Date: Thu, 10 Jan 2019 11:12:07 +0000 (UTC)
From: bidaddy5@aol.com
Subject: Greyfriars Fun

Years ago at a huge exhibition of entirely random commercial street
photographers works at the Portrait Gallery, by amazing coincidence, I saw
the image of my grandmother and her sister walking in Aberdeen. Today, by
another amazing coincidence I saw a street photograph of myself, taken in
Edinburgh in the 1950s. To make it even more amazing, it was taken just at
the moment of one of my early sexual adventures began.

It pictures me, in my light flecked tweed jacket and dark respectable
trousers, holding our dog's leash as he drinks from the fountain provided
to commemorate Greyfriars Bobby, the faithful dog who reputedly watched
over his master's grave in the adjacent graveyard for many years after his
death.

To the left are two men, climbing the hill from the Grassmarket, dressed in
dark workers' clothes. One, the older, has a cap pulled well down over his
face, his fleshy lips mouthing what I knew to be obscenities, to his
companion. He, a younger man with no cap and a full head of tousled black
hair, is bent forward, both hands plunged in his pockets, and obviously
wanking in response to his companion's filthy talk.

I often took a walk which coincided with their walking up that hill at the
same time every afternoon, and I knew that they knew that I watched them
closely as they drew near, eyeing me as their heads became visible above
the pavement where I was standing. They usually looked ahead as they came
up, but I knew that I was the object of the older guy's discourse by the
way their glanced sideways from time to time. I stood there most days
imagining their sweaty and no doubt unwashed bodies pressed against my pure
white middle class cleanliness. The photograph was taken just as they came
abreast of me, and it was clear that the younger, who was bent over with
lust, was close to orgasm.

The photo also shows a well built confidant man in his fifties approaching
from behind me. He is wearing baggy corduroys, a cap pulled down at a
jaunty angle, and a jacket buttoned across his obviously flat stomach. He
is staring at me, with a slight smile on his face. He was my school
swimming teacher, a fit and muscled object of many fantasies for the boys
in the school swimming pool whose wall loomed over the very cemetery across
the road where the wee dog had waited for its master so long. I was not
aware of his approach as I concentrated on the two workers.

just after the photographer moved on, the pair, unusually and surprisingly,
turned past the dog fountain and came up past me, eyeing me lasciviously as
they brushed past me, and greeted the approaching teacher with backslapping
familiarity.  I was amazed and excited; my erection which always responded
when I saw the worker pair, jerked to full bone, tenting my trousers, which
I quickly tried to hide, just as the three turned to look at me. All three
smiled at me knowingly, gazing at my groin.

Mr McLeod and the others approached me and surrounded me closely. nothing
was said, but they all stared into my eyes, the youngest withdrawing his
hands from his pockets and showing me the ingrained dirt of his palms was
smeared with what I knew from my own wanking activities to be precum, and I
realised his pockets were bottomless. My heart rate almost choked me, and I
heard myself gasping with lust.

McLeod addressed me by my name, indicating their pleasure at encountering
me, and confidently and outrageously suggesting I might like to join them
in the graveyard for "some fun".  Now. I knew what "fun" was from my times
fooling about there with schoolmates as I moved from school to street over
many adolescent years, and had often been acutely aware of older guys
watching us with their hands in their pockets, and that the more precocious
rowdy boys sometimes peeled off to join the men as they walked down towards
the wooded ancient graves under the lip of the hill. Sometimes the most shy
smaller boys would do the same.

Now I was with three older men seeking fun, and my fantasy life was about
to be trumped by a reality I had never envisaged.  The older guy had lapsed
into silence, apart from single obscenities. The dog was very enthusiastic
about all three, a fact which they remarked on to each other, seeing it as
an echo of my tongue-out eagerness to please. They pressed closer to me as
I assented to their invitation. Hands touched my groin briefly but
forcefully, and also felt my bum, outlined where thick trouser fabric
stretched tight outlining my arsecrack.

We crossed the road in a knot, and entered the impressive entrance to the
graveyard. The house to the left was, I knew, occupied by the sextant, who,
as we approached, came to his front door, and, winking at the schoolmaster,
took the dog from me, and said he would take care of him. We quickly turned
right down a path leading to the lower graveyard. By now, I was intimately
involved with all three, and had learned that the young worker was Tam, the
older one, Kenny, and the teacher was called "Maister" by the others. They
referred to me as "Boy" or "the boy" throughout.. Their different smells
and breaths and textures registering on my heightened senses. Maister
smelled of cigarettes, old tweed, corduroy (a very distinctive odour),
alcohol, swimming pool bleach and mint. Tam stank of sweat, old semen,
unbrushed teeth, and something darker, was it shit?.  Kenny reeked of metal
working, lubricating oil, paraffin, dirty body, unwashed hair and unwashed
clothes. His mouth was now against my ear, mouthing sexual dominance in
which my boyness was reduced to girlness in a way I had never envisaged. By
the time we stopped and stooping entered an ancient stone memorial
structure, I was a bitch, a slut, a cunt and a whore......and wasn't really
objecting.

Their bodies were pressed against mine now. We were all panting with lust,
Maister's hard knob was pressed against my arse. Tam had taken my hand and
pushed it into his right pocket where it encountered his stiff wet prick,
through the crusted fringes of his pocket lining. As we walked down hill my
hand slid in time to our hurried steps along the length of it. Kenny had
pushed his cap into my clean hair where its odour of years of use drenched
my face.

As we reached the low stone entrance, Maister's strong hand thrust between
my buttocks and lifted me clear of the ground as I was carried into the
interior. We shouldered past an old statue, and more or less fell into the
dark space behind. There were mounds of half rotten leaves there, an old
mattress leaking stuffing, stained and curled at the edges. For the first
time in my life a mouth battened on mine. The older thick lipped mouth was
instantly recognisable, not least because of its intense odour. My mouth
opened to meet his kiss, and his stinking tongue thrust well back into me.

We were now all ravening for contact. Mouths were pressed against mouths,
fingers were working on buttons and zips, and in no time we were all half
naked, our chests grinding against each others, our pricks emerging from
folds of washed or filthy underwear, sweat beginning to slime across
muscles. There was a sudden pause. Maister had his tongue half way down my
throat, withdrew and asked for silence. Together then, almost
reverentially, they slowly undressed me, throwing my clothing around me,
until I was standing amongst them, white, young, a virgin in many ways,
beautiful, aching for sex, my unbelievably hard cock flat against my narrow
belly, my small buttocks straining outwards and upwards. They silently took
in my submission, turning me to view their prize, Kenny swearing
repeatedly, then suddenly descended on me with cries of lust. Their clothes
rasped against my smooth skin, dirty smelly hands clutched my virgin body,
hands thrust mine into areas I had never imagined; slimy cock ends,
stinking bleachlike crotches, mouths slavering with lust, and finally, the
clefts between their buttocks, encrusted in two instances with old shit,
and in one with slimy remnants of previous passage. After multiple
mouthing, embraces, clutchings and massages, my body was no longer lily
white, but stained, slimed and glistening with known and unknown essences.
Then mouths descended on my cock and took it to the back of their throats,
whilst lips and tongues entered my innocent hole, as it took on a mind of
its own and welcomed the invasions.

Tam shouldered the others aside and stuck his cock without ceremony into my
open mouth. I had sucked cock before, but boy's cocks are not mancocks, and
Tam's although 6 inches was thick and stretched my mouth almost painfully.
He thrust savagely for a couple of minutes, and then erupted spunk so
forcefully that it shot straight down my throat, so that swallowing and
gagging merged into an amazing new feeling of being filled up with slime
and heat and a strong taste, very different from schoolboy spunk. The
Maister was meanwhile massaging between my buttocks with his big precum
lubed knob, while Kenny was squatting under me with my balls swallowed into
his mouth, sucking and kneading them into a frenzy.

Tam immediatelt stood up, kissed me and tongued the spunk which still
remained in my moth, then he turned, bent down, held his buttocks apart and
shouted to Kenny to help. Kenny immediately took hold of my sraining precum
soaked prick and, pulling it sharply down, guided it towads the mancunt
gaping there in a nest of unruly hairs caked with shit.

My first experience of a man's hole was so exciting I began to tell them
how gret the feelings were of heat, tightness, texture of shit. TAM KNEW
WHAT TO DO with his arse muscles, and my orgasm came quickly as h milked
me. this was the most intense flood of feeings I had ever exoerienced, my
whole body shok with each spurt, my scalp tingled, my are clenched and
opened until I slumped down over his body as knelt on the mattress.

as my cock slid out of Tam's arsehole, I could see that cum and shit were
smeared thickly along its length, and shit had gathered lumpily under the
foreskin. Kenny took the filthy thing almost reverentially between his big
lips and sucked, tongued and saliva'd it with relish.

As he did so, I could feel my prick begin to swell again. I knew I was
capable of several cums a day, but this was a fast recovery........and it
went on hardening in his mouth until he was sucking the full shaft again.
Rough handsI pushed me down over Tam's sweaty back, my legs kicked apart,
and Maister's knob now steadied itself at my hole, which I could feel
flexing open as he touched it with its hot glans. Then, with one big thrust
his massive bellend was past my sphincters, and I howled as the pain ripped
through me. The work on my cock quickly corrected the feeling of
resistance, and I started to feel the whole length of the hard shaft push
the knobend into my guts.