Date: Sun, 17 May 2009 00:48:27 -0400 (EDT) From: Clark Building Subject: Night Life at the Seashore At the local public swimming pool I had an encounter with four latino dudes. It started because I was going around wearing pantyhose every day and I enjoyed myself enough to shave my legs and use depilatory lotions on my ass. Wearing hose is really nice without all the hair, ask anybody. Anyway, I had the silly idea that a man without hair from the waist down would not be that noticeable. Wrong, I know now. On that particular night, I went swimming at the Belmont Plaza Pool in Long Beach, an evening session, 7:00 PM to 8:45 PM. At the end of the session, I was changing my clothes in the locker room, and, no, I was not putting on pantyhose, when I heard someone say loudly the word "bitch." When I looked around to see who said it, and to whom it was addressed, the only other men in the room were four Mexican gangster looking young guys. They were all looking at me, my bare ass to be specific, and I gathered quickly that one of them, the largest and likely their leader, was speaking to me when he said "bitch." Unwisely, I think now, I just smiled at them and returned my attention to my own business of getting dressed. I remained aware of their continued focus on me, but ignored them. They finally left before I got my shoes on and I thought I was rid of them. Wrong again. Once outside, I started for my car in the dark parking lot adjacent to the pool building. My gangster crew was waiting behind a van and I was taken into their custody, the big guy flashing an opened pocket knife. In less than perfect English, I was made to understand that if I kept quiet and did what I was told, like a "good little bitch," I would live my fagot life, such as it was. They escorted me into the darkness of the beach where distant street lights cast the dim, very dim light. A large plastic trash barrel was tipped on its side and I was shoved onto it, my arms held on the opposite side by two of my captors while the big guy removed my shoes and pants. I thought that by being obedient I had seen the last of that knife, but suddenly I felt the cold steel blade being dragged down the crack of my ass and stopping at my asshole. My new Latin lover, in English barely understandable, told me I was going to get the dick or the knife up my ass, take my choice. "Which one you want, Bitch?" he demanded. "Give me the dick," I begged. "You want my dick, Bitch?" he laughed. "Oh yes, give me your dick, please," I whined in my sweetest pussy-boy little voice. They all laughed, as did I. It was funny, no? My cooperation assured, the knife was put away, I was resigned to my fate and I was actually a little excited about it. The fucking barrel was cold and gritty with sand, but soon I was numb to it and more concerned with the pain of my asshole. My big guy had produced a tube of some kind of suntan lotion, at least it had that smell to it. He greased up my ass and his stiff prick, chatting in Spanish and laughing with his homies, as he moved in between my legs and began shoving his hard cock into my reluctant rectum. He persisted and I yielded as best I could to minimize my further pain. Into my smooth hairless ass he thrust in rhythm to my heavy breathing and I did my pussyboy vocals that men like to hear when they fuck another man. It's a power thing, the fuckee has to take it and like it, or pretend to. They like it when I say with earnest sincerity, "Yes, OH God, YES, fuck me, fuck me." So I said it like I meant it, and, probably, I did mean it When guys are fucking your ass, you might as well try to dig it. I mean what's the point of being a spoil-sport and ruining their fun? Getting fucked in the ass can be fun for you too, if you give it a chance. Well, truthfully, the circumstances were a little uncomfortable, but I was into it. Slow at first, his big dick was the full treat and once the lubricant got spread all over his shaft, it was sliding in and out with delicious friction, my asshole was on fire. I was no virgin, but still tight as hell. Faster and faster, he finally pumped his jizz into me with charming manly grunts and groans, kissing my neck and shoulders in appreciation for my sweet bitchhood. His eager assistant was in me a minute later and I cried out for his best efforts. Sometime about the 2nd or 3rd guy I shot my load onto that nasty barrel. But it was not over yet, by any means. Again and again their cocks violated my little hole, with me loving the lusty attentions and the spurting fluids up my ass. By the time the fourth guy got his rocks off, I was sore in several places, besides my anus, but I felt that I had been soundly and truly fucked. Mexicans can do that for you. I only regretted later that I had not given them my phone number. Now I masturbate remembering that good fuck. I still go to that pool but I'm in the normal hairy range these days. See you there.