Date: Tue, 24 Oct 2000 06:03:21 EDT From: lesli 99 Subject: young times part 10 Young Times - part X "God...can you believe..I mean..." Donnie murmured as we walked up the road towards where we thought the park was. "Yeah" I sighed, still sexually aroused from what had happened by the tracks "I believe it. Remember, this was the second time for me. But yeah, can you believe they took us out here?" "I've never...I mean, it's never..felt, like, you know, like that." We agreed that our experience tonight was something neither of us would ever forget, such an impact. I mean, these weren't boys - well, maybe by age - they were men. Foul talking, real men, and what they had done to us was so far beyond what any other boys had done to us, or that we had done to each other, that it was like we were virgins before. I don't know how else to describe it. "His cum is seeping out my hole" Donnie exclaimed as we walked along, and I felt the same thing, the warm gooey mess that inside me was running slowly out of my asshole, drenching my underwear. "Me too" I acknowledged "it feels like, like cream down there." We both laughed at the comment. It was cream, we decided, warm cream that oozed out. "Here, stop and smell my breath." "Oooohh, yeah" he sighed as I breathed on his face "strong. And..ummmmmmmm...good. Here, let me let you smell mine." and with that he exhaled a blast of warm, rancid smelling breath which I inhaled deeply, letting my sense of smell be overpowered by the strength of it. It did smell good...I don't think I would have thought so a year ago, but now I knew where it had come from, and the smell took my mind back to Clyde and the other one shooting inside my mouth. That smell, those thoughts, coupled with the steady ooze of cum out my asshole brought it all back. "Why do you think they call it cum?" Donnie was always the inquisitive one. I must admit I hadn't thought about it until then. "Yeah, why don't they call it 'goo' or 'milk'?" I joked. "Do you think queers are supposed to suck people off, you know, like we used to do at the bus station? Or suck them to get them hard and then let them fuck you?" "I've thought about that. I think some let you suck them cause that just makes you queer, but if they fuck you, well they think they might be queer. Like it might make them queer if they did it and liked it." "Do you still like it after you cum? I mean, do you still feel hot afterwards?" He had brought up a point that I had thought about a lot lately. I had noticed, especially at the bus station, that most everyone I sucked had zipped up and hurriedly left after I finished. And I had noticed, after sex with Donnie, or Stephen, or anyone who made me cum, that I still felt hot and horney. Even if my dick was soft. "Yeah" I admitted. "Me too. I think that's how I know I'm queer...I mean, still wanting it and all like that. I seem to want it all the time now, not off and on, you know?" "Yeah, me too. I guess getting off is just a natural thing. I mean, I suppose it comes with growing up. But wanting a cock after you cum..well, that's something different. I wonder if girls are like that?" We both agreed that there was a lot we still had to learn about our new found roles. I assured Donnie that things like that should become more clear as life went on. But one thing we agreed on, no question about it, we both had the same impression of what had happened with the two black boys tonight - and I had experienced it my first time with them too - our roles had been very clear. They had called us 'bitches' and even if we weren't one hundred percent sure what that meant, we did know that we were expected to do anything they told us to, not questioning, not objecting, not complaining. They could hurt us, physically, but even more, they held a mental command over us that made it impossible to resist. We were playthings for them...reduced, or elevated - depending on your orientation - to objects. They used us much in the same way, I guessed, that they used women. To be served, to be excited and then satisfied. And the more Donnie and I talked about it as we walked down that dark road toward home, the more we came to the realization that we liked being treated that way. We both admitted that there was more to it than just getting their cocks. The most awful things they could do to us just seemed to make it more appealing, more exciting . Being bitches, as they put it, was more than alright with us. As it turned out, it was only a thirty minute walk home, and we said goodnight at the park and made our separate ways home. I slipped in without being noticed and went to the bathroom to clean up. The smell of cum was still strong on me, and I took a quick shower so my parents wouldn't suspect, taking care to brush my teeth and gargle afterwards. As I lay in bed, trying to drift off to sleep, the cum was till oozing from my asshole, reminding me of the exciting time we had spent by the railroad tracks, and the wonderful new experiences this past week had brought. These weren't just quick blowjobs, like at the bus station, or with Mitch. These weren't boy adventures, like at band camp. No, we had done something this past week that took us beyond the normal bounds of experimentation, and into the larger world. It couldn't be rationalized or categorized as something young boys just do from time to time because they are curious, or bored, or both. This wasn't something we would grow out of - that much was sure. This was homosexuality, pure and simple, and we had willing accepted our roles in it. It was as much of a defining moment as we would know in life, and it moved both of us in the same profound way. Of course we told Stephen about it, first Donnie then me, then together, and he drank in the details. We all three agreed that the restroom, the basketball court, was a good place to 'cruise', as Stephen put it, for sex. And it was. I went there whenever I had the chance which, with my school and homework schedule, allowed me to go there nearly every evening and during the day on the weekends. Sometimes Donnie, or Stephen joined me and we hung together, casually walking around the park, keeping an eye on the restroom. And the results were worth the effort as word spread that you could get a discrete blowjob there. And Donnie, Stephen, and I were identified as the ones, individually or collectively, who would do that. If I was by myself, which I was on occasion, I would skip the cruising part and go straight to the restroom, picking the far stall in which to sit and wait for someone, anyone, to come in. Not many people just 'stopped' in the park to take a pee, most everyone who came in came for sex, and the procedure was almost always the same. I would hear the sound of footsteps on the concrete floor, the sound of water running in the sink, and I would lean forward to peer around the stall wall. Oh, I had some false alerts, true, but most of the time they would just walk over to where I was sitting, pull out their cocks, and let me suck them off while I sat on the commode. No small talk, few 'thank you's' when it was over, mostly just me satisfying their immediate need and them hurriedly zipping up afterwards and leaving quickly. I tried not to look them in the face, it seemed to make some of them nervous, but I did recognize more than one boy from school. And they recognized me, I knew that. The word was out about both of us, and we enjoyed a certain notoriety among our fellow classmates. It wasn't much more than last year, no real hassle as long as we kept to ourselves during the day, but we were both definitely 'out' now. It was six months or so before I discovered another 'cruising' that went on in the park. I guess I hadn't been a regular enough visitor to the place to know about what went on there, but now that I was visiting there almost everyday now, I was bound to discover what went on there in secret. The park was bounded on four sides by neighborhood streets, and a smaller two lane strip of asphalt wandered thru the middle of it, curving first one way and then the next as it made its way from one side to the other. It served both as a jogging trail and a shortcut thru the park during the day and I noticed, at night, an occasional car driving slowly thru. At first I thought it was just a short cut - like during the day - but eventually I learned the reason people drove there. And for the first time in my life, I was cruised instead of the otherway round. It was quite the awakening for me. I had spent a fruitless hour waiting in the restroom stall with no luck and decided to leave, I had homework for the next day and couldn't afford to spend more than an hour. Sometimes it happened that way, no one came around. I had cut across the park and was preparing to cross the road when I noticed a car coming slowly up it with only parking lights on. I stopped to let the car pass, and as it did the driver stared at me as he drove slowly past. 'Strange' I thought. Stranger yet, he went not fifty feet before stopping. His backup lights came on and he backed up, stopping right in front of me. "Hi" he said. His window was rolled down and he was talking to me. "Hi" I replied. He was older, maybe the same age as my mom and dad, kind of nice looking, but with the nerdiest pair of black rimmed glasses I had ever seen. He was no one I recognized. "Nice night, huh?" "Uhh...sure. Nice night." I didn't know why anyone would stop in the middle of the park, in the middle of the night, and tell me what a nice night it was. I was suspicious. "What are you looking for?" Now what kind of question was that? Definitely more than just a casual conversation. I was still suspicious, but now I was starting to realize that there was something going on here. I mean, a complete stranger, in the park in the middle of the night, with his parking lights on. Something was up alright. I decided to play innocent, even though I suspected the innocence wouldn't last for long. "Looking for?" I tried to sound nonchalant "Oh..you know, whatever." "You want a ride?" "Uh...I mean, where?" I knew what he wanted now. Or so I thought. "You know...uh...you know...." Then he screwed up his courage. Either that or he thought I was the dumbest kid in town. "You want a blowjob?" his voice was barely above a whisper as he asked me. I was floored. No one had ever offered me a blowjob before. I mean, I was the one who....I mean I was the one who had just sat for an hour in a stinking restroom waiting for someone, anyone, to come in and let me do them. Now I was actually being cruised by a homosexual. Talk about the shoe being on the other foot! "Uh.uh..sure" I tried to sound like I knew what I was talking about. The fact was that it fascinated me to see this grown man offer to suck me off. I had never imagined someone cruised the park looking to give blowjobs. "Hop in" was all he said, and I made my way to the passenger side and got in. He drove out of the park thru the neighborhood, heading away from my house. We rode in silence as he made first one turn and then another, finally ending up by the old railroad station. It had been closed since before I was born, a rotting collection of a building and several storage yards that had been used when rail traffic was the thing. So I had been told. But now it was deserted and dark as he pulled around on the far side, between the building and the tracks. We were completely shielded from sight. I suspected he may have come here before. Before I had a chance to speak, or react at all, his hand was in my crotch. The idea of what we were going to do had aroused me during the ride here, and I was rock hard in anticipation. His hand closed in on my erection, massaging my dick and balls thru my pants. Age and experience make all the difference, I suppose, and he obviously knew what he was doing, unzipping me in one swift movement and digging in thru my underwear to claim his prize. He pulled my cock out, the cool night air and his hot fingers worked in unison and I got even harder. If that's possible. His head went quickly down to my lap and I felt his warm mouth engulf me. I was in heaven as he expertly pulled my entire length into his mouth, all the way to the base of it. He withdrew slowly, then plunged back down, then back up, then down. His fingers dug in my underwear and felt along the base of my balls, sending chills thru me as the combination of fingers and mouth worked me to a frenzy. I was humping up off the seat now, trying to keep the entire length of my dick inside him. I was too hot for this to last, and in what seemed like seconds I could feel the tell tale signs of an orgasm building deep in my balls. His fingers there just helped it along, and before I could warn him the first of my load raced thru my penis and burst into his mouth. His head never missed one pistoning stroke as he expertly trapped it all in his mouth. I could feel my warm cum in his mouth as he continued to suck me. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world, getting a blow job. The feeling actually rivalled giving one for pleasure. He sucked me until I was limp and dry, having swallowed my cum sometime in between. I reluctantly withdrew my cock from his mouth and put it away. And then the thought occurred to me. What Donnie had said about cuming and still wanting a cock. How it proved, once and for all, whether you were queer or not. "Now let me suck you" I said. It just came out. If I could go down on him, after just climaxing, it would prove that I was queer. I would know for sure. Well, I knew, I was sure, but this would just prove it to Donnie. Without a word he straightened up and spread his legs. I got on my knees on the front seat and reached over him, steadying myself my placing one hand on the drivers door as I brought my face close to his lap. He had unzipped and his cock seemed to spring from his trousers. Not a massive one, but still decent sized, maybe six inches. It wasn't circumsized, something that has always fascinated me about some men, and he pulled the foreskin back to expose the head. It was purple and slender, and I brought my tongue out to taste it before taking it in my mouth. It smelled and tasted strong, not as strong as the black boys tasted after playing basketball, but strong like he needed a bath. But it wasn't so strong as to put me off, and I worked quickly to bring him off. He must have been horny too, he didn't last more than five minutes before blowing a generous load in my mouth. I took it all, not missing or losing a drop. And I had proved myself, beyond a shadow of doubt. Over the next couple of nights I would notice severals cars cruising thru the park. I would also notice a few park at the far end, near the entrance and well away from the basketball court and restroom I frequented. I guess they stayed away from there, preferring to pick up 'tricks' and drive out of the park. I would come to learn that our local police department kept an eye on these cruisers. The restroom provided a safer haven as the police never seemed to bother checking it, and neither Donnie, Stephen, or I were ever bothered by them. This proved as bad as it was good several weeks later when Donnie was assaulted by three boys there. They caught him waiting in a stall, baited him, and when he responded by reaching out to touch on of them they beat him up. Slapped around is a better term, but the effect was the same - violence - and Donnie was shaken by the experience. Shaken enough to give up going there alone, and went only if either Stephen or I went too. All the cruising I had seen in the park, and all the activity I had observed and participated in at the bus terminal, was obvious proof that there were more queers in town that Donnie, Stephen, and I, but I never once in all the time I was in high school knew of any others that were 'out'. I know now that some homo and bisexual men hide their true identity, but in those days, I expected everyone who wasn't 'out' to be 'straight'. So I was confused to the point of thinking that we three, and the man I had met in the park, were the only three. Stephen had told me that Mr Wade was homosexual but, apart from our intitial conversation about music conservatory, he shown little interest. I dropped the subject when Stephen told me that Mr Wade was too afraid to instigate something because of my age. He had told Stephen, in confidence, that he would probably consider something when I was in Sr High, next year. While I was disappointed, I had enough to keep my mind off him, what with my activity in the park, and Donnie, and Stephen to occupy my time. Donnie and I spent at least one night at each other's house almost every weekend. Neither his or my parents had any idea what went on after they went to bed. Stephen too became a regular and one memorable weekend we spent the night at my house while my parents were out of town, the three of us free to do whatever we wanted, wherever in the house we wanted to do it. We spent the whole night, completely nude, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Someone was hard all the time, and it was just one non stop fuck and suck succession, ending just before noon on Sunday, by which time we were all three thoroughly sated. I didn't think I could could take another cock up my sorely stretched ass hole. But I found my self wanting it, and on Sunday evening, explaining that I was going to the park to shoot hoops, I slipped into the restroom and found the tall black boy, by himself now, waiting for me. The abuse, the dirty language, the slap in the face everytime I lost concentration and let my teeth scrape along his shaft, was all so different from my time together with Stephen and Donnie. It was different, and I enjoyed it. I enjoyed being dominated, and this boy enjoyed dominating me. As I look back on it now, I was beginning to understand the concept of diversity. No one thing, no matter how much I had of it, could satisfy me to the extent I was satisfied by a combination of different types of roles. I would become more and more submissive as time went on, but only because it felt more and more right, that is I became more and more comfortable with a passive role. There would be flashes of dominance, to be sure, but my primary role would be that of a passive, sissy even, role. To be continued. lesli99@hotmail.com