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For some reason we got off the track in "Tranny Listings & Events" and started posting riviting sex stories. Joel in particular astounded us. We had to start a new topic called "Book Of Joel" ( Forums > TransNYC > Book of Joel). This is where we left off...
All of this great filth reminds me of the BRILLIANT magazine STH (Straight To Hell) from the 80's. I know Bobby and Hattie will remember it. It was a magazine filled with stories just like these that real people sent in. Then genius "National Inquirer" type titles were added like "Sucked Black Cock Till He Was 72" (I can't really remember any of the titles now but they were fabulous) It was also a night at the Pyramid Club. Maybe we should start a STH tribute topic. People write about their hottest expirences.
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Rose Royale:
Hey guys
This topic relates to all things related to transexuals and their admirers. It's very interesting how guys who are into the gender variant population got started, and a good way to begin to understand the phenomenon. They're really an underclass that needs to be heard in a way that is not associated with "filth." Most are very shy and don't need to be discouraged from posting.
So please start a topic on filth somewhere else. One would think that you get your fill of filth at those places you frequent!

I stay away from the boards for one day and look what happens!
Gets Sucked Off by Disneyland Janitor
Johnny - there are compilations of all (or very nearly all!) the STH stuff from Leyland Publications -- titles like 'Boyd McDonald's "Cream", "Juice" etc..' I think there are @ 7 volumes out - for lovers of true literary raunch (i.e. 'Wound Up as the Meat in a Sandwich'). Of course there's lots of editorializing by the old perv himself too!

ps. make sure it says S.T.H. - or you might not get the real thing - there are lots of copycats.
Could I? Me the Vurgin queen that I am I could say a few words reagarding my adventures... There was one time a few years ago I ad met an EMT worker thru aol, and he picked me up at my parents house in yonkers at 8:30 am , my father asked where are you going like that at this hour? I said a photo shoot, well it was sort of ..someone shot.. si we go to a wefare hotel in the bronx and had sex 3 times within 2 hours, by 10:15am I was home makeup wasked off, standing in the kitchen, my mother had just woken up an says why do you have eye makeup on I said eell I was playing with makeup last night and never washed it off.. they never knew what hit me but my legs were shaking for hours, til later on that night I was walking ever so gingerly down some damn street in the west village with white thigh high stockings and a miniskirt, with a gstring on I was bending over in the middle of the street to pull up my stockings, and a boob popped out of my blouse, oops wella young latino guy approached me and we were making out and such, but looking for an alley way or something. We ended up in a porta potty on the west side highway, facing the highway, the lock was broken it could have swung open at anytime, btu thank godit didnt, and again I hwas deflowered! all that in one day!
I nabbed this from "Lucky Bitches" It's from Goblin.

hey gays!!

i'm fresh off short mt. where i had (i think) my best time there EVER!! keep reading and you'll understand why...

so, instead of putting these lil' tales in "it happened last night" or something, i thought i'd open up a frank, honest discussion of the young boyz who have made our lives so sweet. praise them! adore them! ABUSE them!!! (as long as it's consensual.)

i had second thoughts about posting such a "brag." but my third thoughts said GO FOR IT! and so did sammy jo. and besides, i'm as amazed by it as i am proud of it. if i could bottle whatever it is i'm putting out there i could make a million. (mebbe thru an advertisement in freshmen mag.)

let the tales begin...

the first one was ameh.
18, half costa rican, absolutely GORGEOUS.
met him at the oregon country fair, then saw him again at burning man.
he walked up to me and started chattin' me up with a twinkle in his eyes.
asked me how old i was...
"wow! that's old!"
"it is not!! how old are you??"
(i crossed my fingers) "20???"
"ha ha! no. i'm 18.," he casts a look my way and then says, "just legal."
"oh REALLY??"
so he became my burning hot burning man boyfriend (you shoulda seen us tear it up on the dancefloor) and i saw him a coupla more times around san fran and santa cruz. the sex was incredible (i LOVED watchin' his eyes roll back in ecstacy) and he liked it to last for hours.

at the mountain i got to see rayn. he and i have had an ongoing long distance romance for over a year now.
it's been about that long since i had seen him and we had never - how do you say? - consummated our relationship. he's a cute, lil' 20 yr. old southern twink. super sweet. and so we took care of some unfinished business.

then there was wally. another 20 yr. old. 6'4", hair dyed into a yellow and green spiral, pretty cute. he lives at ida - a neighboring community that booze-wah used to call home.
he ended up being a great lay but not really anyone i wanted to talk to very much. and with so many others around i didn't want to get caught up in him. so i let that one slide.

but the hottest was shadow. oh shadow.
i had met him in s.f. he was a straight street kid that got taken in by my friend antler. they became sorta boyfriends even though he's still more into girls. well, antler had told me that he didn't find many boyz attractive.
so antler asked him, "well then, what boyz DO you find attractive?"
he answered, "texxx." (that's MY name in certain circles.)
with that in mind our flirtation got more and more intense but he was antler's boy and there was never an opportunity for anything, y'know?!
he dropped by my apt. unannounced the day before i was leaving. (hmmmm...) i told him to talk antler into bringing him to the gathering.
well, lo and behold, one night i'm
sitting at dinner and i get called over to another
table and who should be sitting there but antler and shadow. i was happy.
i spent ALOT of time on the drums this time around and that night was no different. shadow came out to the fire and before long had his shirt off - his body is SLAMMIN'!!! - and had EVERYONE'S attention.
(did i tell you he's an incredible poet, didj player, and breakdancer????)
we made eye contact across the fire and he started
dancing over towards me. he planted himself right in front of my drum and started WORKING me with belly dance moves. rollin' his tummy, shakin' his ass, droppin' to his knees and then rolling all the way down on his back and back up again...
the faeries were SCREAMING and CHEERING the both of us on.
i was totally hypnotized but i never missed a beat.
it was epic.

a day or so later he asked me to paint his face. so i did - blacked out eyes and white lines and dots, full on tribal style. we headed off together from there to sit on the couch in the main cabin.
before too long the tents in our trousers sent us running back to my tent in the woods.
it was Magic.
watching this BURNING HOT naked tribal boy do his thang. i was thanking the goddess throughout and plan to offer some gifts on my altar (maybe some mcnuggets?) once i get settled here in houston.

we spent most of the rest of my days there together. finishing up in a hot three-way on my last morning with rayn.

ahh, short mt., tennessee.
where the goods are odd and the odds are good.

so who wants to cum down in the spring????
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Walked into the mensroom at Union Station in Washington DC and was pissing at the urinal when a small deminutive white man about 35 wearing glasses and an ill-fitting suit shuffled up to the urinal
next to me and unzipped his fly. Reeling out an extremely over-sized ( both in length and girth) cock, he let it swing loose and it came to rest on the edge of the urinal. Pissing like a racehorse and moaning loadly at the same time, he glanced over at me and smiled. I commented on the amazing size of his flaccid member and asked if it got larger as it got harder. He said it rarely got fully hard but when it did it was twice the size as when it was soft. Now hanging there soft it appeared to be about 8 or 9 inches. I asked if I could get a closer look and he suggested we go some place more discreet. Following him to a back stairwell in the train station and down the stairs to an empty basement area, he stopped abruptly and turned around to face me with his already hardened prick in his hand. It had trully doubled in size. It looked like a small baseball bat. About 16 inchs long and as big around as my fore arm and with a fat dickhead like a peach. The piss hole was an open slit big enough to stick my little finger in. I quickly reached under him to feel his balls which were average but full and round. I dropped to my knees and attempted to get it in to my mouth but to no avail. I jerked it and smacked it and gave it several little nibbles and then licked the fat head until it started to drip pre-cum like a leaky faucett. The next thing I knew he bent over and with his face next to mine, stuffed about half of it into his own mouth. I worked on the remaining 8 inchs and his balls and together we succeeded in getting him to shoot his load. I watched as he swallowed every drop. I wondered later if he could also get that thing up his butt. I wish I had asked.
Alot of you Jackie 60 regulars might remember my friend Jane (from the BBC). She was the one in the DJ Booth always with some piece of Latino eyecandy or some exotic Arabian knight. She would usually be the one reaping the benefits of late-night "Party Naked". I recently found out that she keeps a journal of her (s)exploits. I read one chapter about Redline Richie that was incredible. She also has one on Flowrider. I've asked her to start posting here. You will drool!
One of her obsessions for years now has been professional boxers. She knows them all! Chi Chi and I ran into her the other night as she was dragging ****** (had to delete his name, unbelievably devastating middleweight beauty) into her love-lair. Even Mommy gagged! Jane is a true Jackie legend. I hope I can get her here to show you why.
(Baldwins right away!)

[This message was edited by daddy on 10-16-01 at 01:13 PM.]
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being back at my dad's house for the start of STH is just TOO perfect. AND the current news stories to boot... let's begin.

when my dad remarried (the first time) i got a new stepmother and two stepbrothers. l****, the older of the two, was a year younger than me and lived at my dad's house with his mom. and it was his bedroom - the bottom bunk to be exact - that i would stay in on my "bi"-weekly visits to that house. (every other weekend, natch.)

we were at a very curious age. and even before our parents married we were learning together the joys of masturbation and the excitement of ejaculation. it was all so new!!

neither of us considered ourselves gay so we approached it through "truth or dare" - always including both of us daring the other at some point to "suck my dick." this relationship went on for YEARS - me, between 14-17; him, 13-16. we would jerk off together, jerk each other off, watch each other jerk off, suck each other's dicks... but NO kissing and NO anal anything. (i remember one time i almost came just laying naked next to each other.) and we would do it over and over again each night that we were together. and our parents were asleep on the other side of the wall. we did it in hotels on family trips, in the boathouse at our lakehouse, in a guestroom at my grandmother's...

i just this week found out that i was the first in a string. he and his school friends were playing the same kinda games when he would go spend the night out. (that little boy whore!!)

what i wouldn't give for one more night with him. especially now when i think of him in his new job... (can you handle this???)

George W.'s personal assistant!!!!
as in, the smithers to his mr. burns.
as in, when laura calls her husband my step-bro answers the cell phone.
as in, he's got the president's "pilot" in his palm!!

hmmm, maybe i could talk my way into a night in lincoln's bedroom. but only if he came along.
get this...
my sister told me about the other boyz!
she still runs with some of his old friends.

AND she told me that there's an article about him in the current issue of TALK magazine - the one with herr rudy on the cover. (i'll post the page number as soon as i see it for myself.) just look for the picture of him carrying the "first dog."

then ask yourself - which one in this picture is really BUSH'S BITCH??!!
A few years back I gave up a broom closet share on Seventh Street & First Ave and moved to a huge, two bedroom apartment in Park Slope with a plutonic gay male friend. (I only stayed there a year before deciding I couldn't deal with the commute and fled back to Manhattan). Anyway, my roommate and I agreed to have separate phone lines, and I used a pre-existing one in my bedroom. But my roomie had to have a brand new one installed, so he arranged for a NYNEX guy to come out on a Saturday morning.

Low and behold, it's Saturday morning, but my roomie never came home Friday night (he forgot the appointment and crashed at his boyfriend's pad). I'm sleeping in my bed wearing only my boxer-briefs when the door buzzes. I get up, put on my robe and see it's the phone guy. He's alone, about 5'6" and a total Guido, black hair, green eyes, a goatee, about 30 y.o. Stocky build. Big lips. Instantly I'm hot, I usually have raging hard-ons first thing in the morning anyway. I let him in and show him to my roomie's bedroom and he gets to work. After a few minutes of course I go back in there and offer him some water, but this time only in my boxer briefs with my 7 1/2" hard-on clearly visible. He looks me over and says "yes" to the water, which I bring back in a moment later. I wait in the living room some more, then he finishes installing my roomie's phone line.

Then I told him I'd like to give him a tip for his trouble. He asks in his best Bensonhurst accent, "what did you have in mind?" at which point I start to unzip his fly. He says, "wait a second", drops his toolbox, goes to the sofa, drops his jeans and briefs, sits down and spreads his legs really wide and this fat, ultra-thick hard 7-incher is staring back at me. I drop to my knees in front of him and he installed the real tool into my hungry mouth. I devoured that pole like it was the last one on Earth, until he got so aroused he stood up, grabbed my head and starts fucking my mouth! Then he pulls out just in time to shoot a thick wad of jism all over my neck and chin.

We didn't say a word as he dressed, but when I unlocked the door to let him out he says, "thanks for the tip".
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Once when I was in Rome at the train station, I stopped into the men's room ( again!) and was standing at the open urinals when a young male hustler came in. Walking up to the urinal next to me he quickly flopped out a perfect example of an italian sausage. Long and thick and an endless foreskin, he let it hang there as he rolled his big brown eyes at me and smiled. He put it back in his pants and walked toward the door looking back at me to follow him. We walked to an empty train parked to the side of the trainyard and entered an empty car. He quickly unzipped my fly . Dropping to his knees he started sucking my dick and not to well I thought. He had both hands on my butt and was moving his hands all around furiously. Suddenly I was aware that he had taken my wallet out of my back pocket and had put it in his boot.. I let him continue to suck my dick as I fucked his throat and held him tightly by the hair until I shot my load down his throat. He stood up, smiled and wiped his mouth, muttered something in italian under his breath and ran out the door. I counted to three and followed him. He never looked back once to see if I was behind him. I followed him out of the station and down the avenue. Turning up a side street he ducked into an alley to count his booty. As he had my wallet open and was just about to examine the contents, I reached around behind him and grabbed it out of his hand. He swung around in disbelief and his jaw dropped when he saw me. I said in italian " Wrong! I'm from New York City baby and where I come from we will pay for it but there's no need to steal." I handed him the italian eqivelent of $10 and said" That's about all that sloppy blow-job of yours was worth but if you wanna make another $50 drop your pants and bent over." Without missing a beat, he dropped his pants and bent over, revealing a beautiful ass and an already greased hole. I fucked him in the alley for at least 20 mins until he, jerking off as he rode my big dick, collapsed in a heap shooting his load all over his leg. I gave him the fifty and a big wet kiss on those full lips and told him to stop stealing from his tricks. He was sitting on the ground smiling up at me with his pants still around his ankles when I walked away.
This past weekend, I went up to the Adirondacks to get a brief respite from war-torn Manhattan. I took Amtrak to a small town in the foothills, then a taxi to the cottage of an old friend. I had been given the keys, so I had the whole place to myself. I had forgotten that 1) It's 20 degrees colder in the mountains this time of year, and 2) hunting season is at full throttle right about now. Well, since I neglected to bring anything red, I was not going to venture into the woods at all, so I settled down with a few good books and a full fridge.
One morning, I got up and was sitting out on the verandah, catching a few rays of sun, when a brown pickup truck drove by, then came back and stopped. A guy got out, maybe in his forties and introduced himself to me. Very weathered and huge hands. A few broken teeth in his mouth. He knew my friend and said his name was Bill. Nice blue eyes. He told me he was just starting a goat farm nearby and had lived in the area all his life. As soon as he found out I was from New York, he began to tell me how his wife didn't understand him. I, of course, took that as a cue and invited him in. Soon, I got sick of listening to the particulars of goat farming, and went for the gold. His body was nearly hairless and and built from, I dunno, pullin' a plow himself. His dick was about 10 inches and uncut and fat as a tree limb. Wotta logger! And he sure knew how to eat ass. Guess there really is gold in them... Anyway, we must've carried on for six hours. Then he got up and said he had to pick up his 19 year old son who was out hunting. I said, well feel free to send your son over too. He smiled and said we'll see.
The next day the same truck pulls up and a young guy gets out, about 19 or so and introduces himself. All I can say is, like father, like son. In every way.
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an AGGIE?????
you've got to be bullshittin' me!!!!
well, you know what they say...
ain't nuthin' in texas but steers and queers.
guess he didn't have no horns.

for those of you who weren't fortunate enough to be reared in this the largest of the 48 contiguous states - A & M stands for agricultural and mechanical. it's where you go to major in animal husbandry and tractor engineering.

i guess these farmers have a thing for old goats.
(sorry, hattie. i couldn't resist.)
When I was 13, my mother and father took a day trip to Ohio to see my uncle and my brother closest to me in age was suppose to keep an eye on me while they were away. He did a really good job by getting me totally stoned. Later in the evening he had his girlfriend named Andrea come over, and they went downstairs in our family room where my brothers best friend Chris and I could hear her getting the life fucked out of her from where we were upstairs in the livingroom. Well at 13 almost anything can set you off, and the sound of this chick getting fucked so fierce was almost too much for me to handle. My brothers friend Chris was sitting in my dads big leather kings chair and I was laying on the couch. It was summertime and I could smell the patchouli oil mixed with pool chlorine coming off of Chris as the whirr of a big window fan blew his 17 year old smell in my direction. It was about 1 in the morning and the only cable channel in my town at the time put on a soft core movie called Lady Chatterly's Lover. I felt so strange watching this incredibly sexy period movie in the warmth of my summertime high with real sounds of fucking soming from downstairs and me being alone in the room with a boy I had thought about so much. Chris was the drummer in a local WHO cover band, and was by far the freakiest of all my brothers friends. It was 1978 and at 17 Chris had a full chest of super soft black hair, that he loved to show off almost as much as the huge dick he always stuffed in too tight Levi cut offs never with underwear. His hair looked kind of like Slash from Guns n Roses, and he wore a gold Italian horn around his neck. In the summer you never seen Chris with a shirt or shoes. He was totally tannned except for the parts that would peek out from his shorts when he would bend or sit down. His upper body was totally fine with really toned arms and pecs. I thought at one time I wanted to look just like him, he was so fucking sexy and so fucking groovy. Chris always spoke to me like an equal, where my bothers other friends always looked at me as the little brother. I was getting really freaked out because the movie was getting really graphic, showing hard dick and open pussy. I looked over at Chris to get his reaction, and he was kisked back in my dads chair with his big hard cock sticking out of his shorts, and it just stood completely upright and jerked back and forth all by itself. Chris looked right in my face and then moved his eyes to his cock and smiled. I didnt think, my mind completely went somewhere else and i got off of the couch, walked over to the side of the chair, took hold of probably a good nine inch horse dick and started playing with it and feeling it jerk really hard in my hands. I wanted to suck it soo bad, and I knew he would have probably let me, but I started to get scared. I sat on the arm of that big leather chair, layed my head on his furry chest and teased his dick for almost an hour, keeping my eyes on the movie, pretending everything was normal. Chris was breathing really hard and kept rubbing his hand on my hair. I had had orgasms of my own, but when his dick all of a sudden started to shoot, I couldnt believe it. About eight good thick squirts shot on my face and chin and hands, and when I moved his dick away from my face, it splashed on the right side of his chest. I got up, went to the bathroom, washed my face and went back and layed back down on the couch. We never talked about it EVER. When I see him at holidays and visits home, I always wonder if he remembers it as perfectly as I do. I bet not.
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It was Thanksgiving nite 1993 and Faux Pas and I had just had a scrumptious meal at my friend Sara's place in Grammercy Park. I was full of fabulous food, fine wine, and fierce herb. What more could a single twentysomething fella want in New York City at midnite? What? Sex you say? Why yes in deed, don't mind if I do. The nite was that kind of cold that was actually refreshing from being in a pot filled apartment for several hours. The air had that healthy quality, that made you enjoy each crisp breath. I jumped in a taxi and headed to Times Square where I thought I would take in a midnite "movie" at this genius place called The Hollywood Twin at 48th st and 8th ave. Two theatres, one side straight porn, and the other side queer. Well of course I took my seat on the straight side. (For some reason "straight" dick always tastes better than queer cock.) Well the place was filled with all of those people who did the obligatory family thing that day and now needed to blow off some worked up steam, plus the "regulars" that would be there during flood or famine. Nobody was waving their welcome flag at me to join them, so I decided a little trip to the potty and soda machine might be a good thing. The bathrooms were down a staircase in the lobby that was right in the middle of the two theatres. I was busy trying to lite a cigarette and didnt notice I was barrelling down the steps right in the path of where someone was coming up the stairs. We collided, the hots off of my cig exploding onto both of our shirts. After taking care of the immediate problem, we looked at each other. You know that kind of glance into someones eyes that starts off fleeting, but gets stuck, and you can't escape. Without another word, he stepped up to meet me on the stairs and put his mouth against mine. I closed my eyes and let those fat juicy Dominican lips devour my mouth. I thought if this dude fucks like he kisses, I am in some serious danger. I might go absolutely cock crazy. His name was Edwin. He was a little taller than myself, tannish brown skin, big brown eyes, soft curly hair and a fucking monster trying to rip its way out of his pants pressed up against me. After several minutes of tongue hockey, the shiftless, old security guard made his way past us and told us to take it inside. Still without a word, I took him by the hand and led him not to the theatre, but around a corner where a staircase led to a desserted projection room. Edwin took his place about 3 steps above me, and hauled a thick, brown, uncut, 11 inch Dominincan "moronga" from his jeans. He had one of those fat, long, heavy cocks, that even when it was rock hard, had a genius arc to it that made it so fierce to push down my throat. Like the weight of the meat wouldnt let it stand completely up. I sucked that cock for a good two hours, knowing just when to slow down, when I felt it kinda pulse and jerk in my throat. My face was wet with spit and tears.(I love when its so big it makes you cry.)I kept eating that dick, like I had never tasted anything as good in my life. Edwin had huge nuts, and was more than happy to take over blowing himself if I could just help him out by giving his balls a good slobbering. I had never in all my life seen a man who could swallow so much of their own dick, especially with the crazy arc it had. He sucked just like me, like he was THIRSTY. I felt his nuts starting to tighten up, and knew it wouldn't be long. He let that huge cock kinda flop out of his mouth just in time for me to reposition and catch it like a dog in my mouth. Papi's cock started spraying and not knowing why I felt safe in doing it, I drank every drop of his sweet load and then stuck my tongue in his mouth because I knew he was the type that would want to taste his own milk. Edwin was my Papi for almost 2 and a half years. Thru all the lies, and mountains of coke, that dick had me hooked and blind for one hell of a long time. I sucked his dick about 2 months ago. Eddie is older, and for some reason it's like a totally different piece in my mouth. I know thats psychological on my part, but for as FIERCE as that shit was for so long, the spell is sooooooo broken. But memories are usually better than the real thing anyway. Don't you think?
I love the word as well. It is a very backwoods, country Dominican slang word that has a translation as the unsheathed cock of a horse. Other spanish speaking countries are not really familiar with the word, and Dominican people consider it very low brow. You see I am capeable of offending in more than one language. i guess I can forget a job with the U.N.
Well..I have lived a long and prosperous life and I have never come across that word...Now I will be forced to go out and get a taste of some "Moronga"
Thank you Sweetie. I wanted some of that Edwin Moronga for the longest time but left it alone because:
1) He was the property of my good sister Sweetie.
2) He told me I wasn't a big enough gal. That I should go put on an "extra" hundred pounds or so and maybe he might think about giving me a taste of that "Moronga".

It seems it would have been quite worth it. I love a man that can blow his own horn.
I am really shocked that the two of you NEVER REALLY had Edwin. True he is a notorious chubby chaser, but he also has a fierce fetish for old men. I was his youngest lover ever. All either of you would have had to do is flash a little liver spot and that huge dominican snake could have been yours. See botox, male girdles, and sheep placenta are good for the over fifty crowd in one respect, but not everyone goes for that super moisterized, clinique bronzed, dye job "mature" man effect. Discard those Pat Field victim duds and opt for more age appropriate wardrobes. I hate to see two wonderful old timers missing out on hot latino dick. Take a trip to The Townhouse and take a peek how other men your age look, you could go together and maybe they would think you were really long in the tooth hustlers. Wouldn't that be cute? By the way Johnny, we found your truss in the Cheez Whiz bathroom, I don't know if the urine stains were already on it, or if it got too close to the toilet. I saved it in the bag with your extra set of teeth.
Well sure JD I know it's rotten when they take away your years of experience and wisdom by comparing you to some young chicken like me. Don't be too hard on Sweatie, she's getting old and senile and can't tell people apart. I think it's the fact that you still look so young that she compared you to me. And I have a surprise coming for Sweatie real soon..when she least expects it too! You'll see....
Its awesome! I have been having the best sex ever, it started off lasting 1 hour now its 3 , 3 hours of nonstop thrashy slapping, bitting pinching screaming madness, I am going to have to get a new hip with this one! I must tell yoy for a little guy he is sure another story!! he has power ans stregnth, he throws me around and I am a big girl. but let me tell you boys and girls... my neighbors have heard it all I am not a quiet one not at all I am a huge screamer, and sometimes noises come out that I never knew existed!
my first m2m experience happened last year. My former landlord (a divorced tall 40 y/o german stud) accidently found a stack of fetish mags that I had left out one day. He was in the rental to fix the sink and I forgot. That weekend he came by and asked me not to leave my personal stuff lying around. I was so embarrrassed. He was cool though and we struck up a discussion about desires and fetishes. What I didn't realize was that he was bisexual and into kink. I was into heel worship, B/D and sexy women, BUT have a strong bi-streak. He admitted that he thought I was sexy and liked that I was into fitness and dance. We talked for hours about life,women/men, sex and experiences. He admitted to having a serious male foot fetish and being a TOP. I wasn't sure what to say but we parted on good terms. A week later he came by around 3pm on a rainy day. He brought me a surprise. I opened the bag he handed me and found a shoe box with sexy 6" black patent stilletto high heels!!! I nearly passed out. He watched me carress and admire them. Then asked me to worship them for him. I closed the blinds sat on the couch and started licking and smooching the sexy shoes. He smiled and told me he liked the way I used my toungue. We talked about fantasies and I pulled out my stash of rubber, bondage, TV/TS, legshow mags and we looked through them. I was so touched and turned on. He admitted to being in lust over my feet and legs and begged me to take off my sweat pants. I smiled and exited to my bedroom. I stripped off my clothes and slipped into a RED THONG I had bought in Mexico. I walked out and he just turned all shades of red. I sat on the counter and started flexing my legs, pointing my feet and spreading my toes. After several awkward moments he dropped to his knees and started sucking my toes and licking my soles. It drove me nuts. I kept thinking how it was so wrong but it really felt HOT. I slipped down and moved across to the fridge. We spent two hours exploring how things tasted on my feet, squishing stuff that he would lick off as he played with himself. Eventually he got to his feet, pressed me against the fridge and started toungue-kissing me while carressing my ass. I squirmed and begged him to stop. I turned away in shock and he came up behind me wrapping his arms around my waist, kissing my neck and groping for my cock. I arched and twisted begging him to chill out but loving his desire. He begged me in turn to use my feet on his cock (which I did). He came all over and I couldn't believe how turned on we both were. Whenever I see him now he whispers about me wearing toe rings, walking on my tippie-toes and/or tying up my ankles and licking my soles.

It was unreal. and I loved it...
I've been here less than 3 years and I am just starting to explore fetish and kink. I admit I am str8 sexually. But I do get off on m2m fetish and bondage. I also fantasize about Being Dommed by a Masc Queen in sexy heels...

I'm also really interested in trying out stocking and heels myself. I have muscular "frog legs" and thick curvy calves, soft, high arching size 11 feet and (I'm told anyway) hot even "square" toes. I like wearing flip flops and walking on my tip toes. I guess high heels is the next logical progression.
Hello everyone, I was at the Pink Slipper and promised Johnny I would post. Hi Johnny.. Anyway as soon as I have a new story to share I will post it. Went to the the Smack Party with Dale and Champagne after PTM around 3:30, it was still fairly delish and so was this cute boy I met, alas that might of been a story but I promised the gurls I would drive them home. Till next time.
Hello. Right off the bat - I am a genetic girl. I could not resist posting after I read some of these encounters, though I realize you boys don't care much about the puss. Softsoles, darling, you inspired me to spill. When I first came to NY (8 years ago, I am 25) my experiences prepped me for times to come.
I used to pick these testosterone puppets up out side of bars (bouncers, oui) and get them to take me home. A schoolgirl skirt will do wonders. But, here in NY, these "str8" men require more than what's under mine. The first guy was wonderful. Muscular, dumb, and very inventive. So inventive he pulled out a strap-on when we got home. Every 17 year old girl's dream. So, I strapped it on and made him crawl around and lick at it like the hungry puppy that I had been earlier that night. What's a girl supposed to do then? He squealed like I should have. What makes this story intriguing, though, is how he told me afterwards he has to confess (as in Catholic) every week about his "weakness". I think that was the binding factor. I assumed the weakness was not the young chick-with-a-dick, but the dick under a Catholic-school veil. Welcome to New York. Straight To Hell.
Suddenly I feel a bit feverish...Did I ever tell you about the time I was in Miami and all oiled up and sashayin' down the beach in that gayish zone around 20th street and two Cuban mamis snatched me up right off the beach. I was 21 at the time and I had just imbibed an organic ciggerette and had washed down a mandrax or two with a shaker full of Martini juice and I'm bare foot and in only a skimpy speedo headed towards the ocean for a dip...
Well these two young ( 18?) hot cubano girls who look so much alike they could be sisters,
walk right up to me and as one leans into me and kisses me on the mouth, the other presses herself into my back and reaches around and grabs my cock. Right on the beach, in broad daylight, in front of hundreds of people. I was floored. They lead me off the beach and back to their apartment a block away and fucked my brains out. I ate more pussy and fucked more times than I ever had with any women before. Completely wasted and exhasted they let me take a well deserved nap for about an hour.They woke me up and they had made me lunch. As we were eatting, their two brothers arrived. They sat down and ate too. Juan was about 20 and Hector was older about 24 or 25. Both Cuban Gods with beautiful bodies and huge pingas which were visible in their thin summer shorts. As we ate I kept looking down at Hectors dick in his pants and it kept getting noticeably bigger and bigger. I glanced over at Juan and his thick hands were already at work in his lap.. he simply unzipped his shorts and out flopped this huge moronga. Hector by this point had expanded out of his pants leg and the fat uncut head was dripping pre-cum as it hung there.
I was hard again too now and both of the girls suddenly cleared the table, put the dishes in the sink and headed out the door back to the beach. The oldest of the two said to me " Stay here and enjoy Hector and Juan. We will see you later maybe. They each kissed me goodbye and they were gone. As I turned back to the table Jaun already had Hectors fat dick in his mouth. They both reached for me at the same time. We fucked, sucked, rimmed,slurped and laughed our way from the kitchen to the living room to the bedroom to the outdoor terrace to the bathroom when they pissed and shot all over me in the shower and then licked me clean. Ahhhhh...Miami. Pinga rica en mi boca papi. AAAIIIIEEEE!!
Travel sex is the best sex, don't you all think? You don't have to pretend to take someone's name and number.
I went to Vegas right after high school graduation, and met up with a girlfriend. She and I decided to hit a party. When we got there, there seemed to be quite a few hard male bodies in attendance. Whaddya know? A Brazilian futbol team! I found myself in a hot-tub filled to the brim with naked, tan, AFFECTIONATE men. Now, you must understand, I do have some sort of modesty. So when things start to heat up, I will take it to the bedroom (Definition of modesty: I will not scramble for a dick out in public. Not when there are too many to keep track of.) Finally my girlfriend and I wrangled the choice beef to an uninterruptable location. The carpet was very soft on my knees, but holding on to more than three slabs of meat is near impossible if you're the only one on the ground.
The darlings obligingly threw me on the bed with my friend. I could smell the testosterone in the air, and, I suppose, so could they. Do you know they are very comfy with each other? I guess when you shower everyday with a man, he doesn't mind when you grab his hips from behind. My girlfriend seized her opportunity with me. Girls are softer than boys, ya know? Did I mention this was my boarding school roommate? But, no, I digress. I am not interested in things I can do every day. Roomie is to Everyday as South American Stallions (plural) is to Once in My Life. Having seen the affectionate nature of the teammates, I kindly assumed the middleman. Okay, I confess, I love it. One standing behind, one standing in front. LOVE IT. I about lost my mind.
I was a little sore the next day. Ah, Vegas.
I�m not a writer so please pardon the grammatical errors. I had an adventure last nite I wanted to share.

Last night at Kitch Inn I noticed a girl sitting alone with a sad look on her face and went over to cheer her up. Her name was Simone, it turned out she had a fight with her husband. Anyway we danced and drank the night away and she was so loaded I had to drive her home. All night she had been touching me and we were kissing each other lightly, she was so pretty. When we got to her house, I had to help her inside her husband answered the door. He was definitely surprised to see a gurl like me, but not freaked out. We went inside and she was starting to feel better and insisted that I stay for a while for a drink, her husband Mark also insisted, I wasn�t sure If I should stay but Mark was gorgeous, a musician and DJ, he was wearing these boxers and t-shirt and I could notice his tight stomach, his body was fabulous and I noticed that his cock was now a little hard. I wasn�t sure if it was from me or his wife turning him on. I sat there on the couch with them smoking a cigarette sipping on some wine and we were chatting about my lifestyle. Marks cock was now growing harder and I could see it coming out from the bottom of his boxers. Simone could see that I had noticed his cock, Simone started rubbing his cock and looked over at me and started to kiss me and pinching my nipples, which turns me on to no end. I new that the fun was about to begin, All I could think about was sucking Marks cock and feeling his hard body all over me. Mark got up from the couch came over to my side and sat down I was still kissing simone, but as soon as he sat down he took me in his arms and started to kiss me he was so strong, kissing me so forcefully I submitted totally to him darting my tongue deep into his throat, I reached down to grab his cock it was hard as a rock, I tried to break away from the kiss but he was too strong, he picked me up and carried me to the bedroom I hadn�t noticed but Simone had left the couch while I was kissing Mark, she was on the bed wearing this fabulous Hot-pink strap-on. Mark put me down on the bed and took off his t-shirt and boxers revealing his gorgeous body to me, he laid down on the bed and I ran my hands all over his smooth muscular chest and stomach savoring every touch, I reached down and grabbed his cock and looked into his eyes as I wrapped my lips around his cock, he smiled and I started to suck his cock feverishly, I was in heaven, 7 inches, I couldn�t get enough and I wanted this moment to last forever, at that moment Simone had greased up her strap-on and started to fuck my ass pussy. I was so engrossed in sucking Marks cock that I had forgotten Simone, slowly she fucked me, with this pink cock and then it started to vibrate inside me, deeper and deeper she fucked me and with every stroke I sucked mark harder and deeper into my mouth. Well you can imagine how the rest of the night went. I made two new friends who I know I will be enjoying pleasures for some time to cum.

Gawd I luv Kitch Inn�.
I was just doing my posts on the boards and kinda browsed thru these last pages of awesome smut. I had a GREAT DAY TODAY!!! Only in New York children, only in New York.

I recently moved into a larger room in my apartment. I've totally gotten into this new space because the back door to my patio and backyard is in my room. It also leads to a special entrance to the laundry room downstairs. Today I was laying in bed waiting for my EX- to come by for some delicious EX- SEX. Mind you, I had already been up, showerd, cleaned my livingroom and put fresh sheets on the bed. With this magic back door in my room, sometimes I like to think I am in a little cottage some place in Europe. (Oh my imagination) ANYHOOOO I am laying in bed watching Family Feud and I see a shadow come across the window of my back door. I share this huge backyard with 2 other apartments, but I have never seen them on my patio EVER. I got out of bed and looked out the window of the door to see who was out there. Sitting on the concrete, like 3 feet in front of me, reading a book was this total like hippy looking dude. He looked up, noticed me in the window and waved. I kinda waved back, opened the door and asked if I could help him. He said he was waiting for his clothes to dry, and went out the basement door and found my patio and thought he would wait there. By his accent I knew he was probably from Israel. I was right. His name is Ari and he just moved to my building the begining of february from Tel Aviv. As he's telling me how much he loves New York he very nonchalantly starts to play with his cock thru his very worn fatigues. Ari has this incredible boyish smile, and he gave it completely as he knew I was noticing his big boner starting to take up the legnth of his thigh. As if on cue we both laughed out loud and I opened the barred security door and let Ari in my bed room. Just inside the door he pulled down his fatigues and started stroking his dick telling me he hadn't cum in almost 2 weeks. Say no more. I sat on the edge of my bed, and started swallowing inch after inch of his beautiful tanned cock. His cock, balls and ass were completely shaved smooth, but his dick definitely had that wonderful mannish cock taste about it. I turned him around, made him bend over and gave his tight little butt a fierce tongue bath. He has those kind of great butt cheeks I just wanted to bite over and over. He went totally nuts and said nobody had ever eaten his ass before. I decided to really give him the works and pulled his thick cock between his legs and started sucking him backwards, while i took time to french kiss his butt as well. After 15 minutes of that he turned around and gave my face a fierce proper fucking. Ari busted his nut all over my t-shirt. He stuffed his cock back in his pants, thanked me profusely and said he had to check his laundry. Our hot little session ended on such a cozy, neighborly note. Very friendly. He took my number and took off thru ther back door. about 10 minutes later Jon the EX shows up and is totally not ready for how ready I am to have him. In my mind I loved kissing him with Ari's dick, and hot little ass fresh on my breath. He must of picked up on something too because we had FIERCE sex as well. Right in the middle, my phone rang. It was Ari thanking me again for my hospitality and giving me his apt # and phone number as well. Good neighbors are "HARD" to "CUM" by in this city. I am so happy I live in New York!!!!
Last weekend I went to Seattle for a visit. After seeing the usually family I went to find some late night fun. I ended up initially at a fetish modelling place called X-otic Tan. Unique and kinda pricy for me but worth it. The first night (Friday) I got a private dance and went crazy while kissing the models soft sexy feet. the next night I went back (after raiding the ATM) and had another session. While waiting in the lobby I talked with this middle aged truck driver type. He was talking about the models he liked and how often he came. Then he says "too bad they don't have guys too..." I just looked at him and he started commenting on my feet (I had on flip flops...) One thin led to another and I had my session. After leaving I deicided to wait for this guy, Pete to finish. When he came out I hesitated to stop him but did. We chatted and ended up at a Denny's over coffee. Talking about fetishes, erotic play and kink. Then I took a chance and started rubbing my foot on his shin when the room was bare. He stiffened up (In more ways than one) and eventually asked if I wanted to FUCK. I told him "no", but said I would love to tease him for a while. Basically he paid the tab and we got into his SUV in the parking lot. I was damn nervous but we ended up in the pasenger compartment (he had tinted windows) and I agreed to let him touch as long as he played nice. I stripped off my jeans and Let him kiss, lick, massage and tickle my feet. I curled my toes and arched my soles for a goo twenty minutes. The damn windows fogged up so bad!!! He was licking and kissing and mumbling to himself. He begged me to suck him off, but I offered to let him jack off on my soles...which he did!!!! I rolled around giggling and wincing as he bucked his hips and jerked his cock between my soles...It was exciting but very NERVE RACKING at the same time. I kept expecting someone to knock on the windows!!! He managed to spurt out a minor wad and groaned like an old man. I had to stifle laughing as his legs kicked and shook involuntarily. We just sat there and he asked if I would meet him again. I declined but did get his cell number. He started in with this bit about having an unhappy marriage and stuff. I just nodded and kept wiping off my feet. He kept tracing his fingers along my thigh and calves telling me how cut I was. Man, it was an experience. I should have suggested a motel room I guess. Or maybe I just lost my SENSES temproarily due to the excitement factor. Who knows...!!!
D3.12.1-3. flesh

We were locked in an underground cavern.

There was some sort of starlet leading our decent. She had long brown hair. Straight, silky, thick, red highlights and parted in the middle, it was very seventies -- it was very seductive. She would stop sometimes and turn to see if we were still following her. Then she'd giggle.

I'd have been scared I think if I'd been alone. But, although I could see no one else, I felt the presence of others. It was like that 'watching' you feeling you experience in a dream.

Even though I kept slipping on the rocks crumbling beneath my feet, she tread with ease. She would turn back and encourage me to continue on with a smile. This was exciting her. In the dark murk, she glowed, long eyelashes, imp smile and the soft serene shine from her legs, everything glowed. This was her destination.

She didn't really speak it -- she just pointed to the other side. She motioned that we had to cross the water; but, when she looked at me, I knew this was the place we had traveled to come.

It smelled like her, not pretty or sweet; but spicy and exciting.

She went in first. I watched the water slowly devouring her legs, sucking them up gently. To her knees, to her thighs, so white was her skin against the opaque dark of the water. She stopped, then.

The water just lapping at where she herself grew dark. She smiled and took off the long white shirt she had been wearing. The water glistening in her pubic hair. Her eyes closed.

She disappeared, letting the water swallow her up completely. Then a few moments later, her head came back up.

She summoned me. I took off my jacket and realized I had no shirt. She must have been wearing mine. I also

realized I was alone with her and she was hungry. I felt her needing: I felt her wanting. It was echoing in here, coming at me from all sides of the cavern.

I felt my penis begin to rise. It throbbed inside my trousers, it began to burn as it rubbed against the thick wool. It was in control. It wanted to feed her. I tossed my pants aside.

Her eyes followed them momentarily as they disappeared into nowhere and then she returned her gaze to me. She looked at my feet. Then slowly she brought her gaze up, pausing only for a moment when her eyes touched where I was swelling. She parted her lips and I could see the saliva inside her mouth come alive.

I went forward into the water. I went to her. I was blind. The murk of the water was thick and warm and before I could see again I was there. I was touching something soft. I could make out the white of her shoulder as she led me to the far cavern wall. Then I had her, against the wall. She laughed at me as if she had read my thoughts. She thrust her tongue into my mouth. Her hands were digging at my shoulder blades as she gripped my tongue with her teeth and sucked it into her mouth holding it, pulling it, until I could taste my own blood.

I could not hold back, you see, I felt pain. The cool of the water dissipated into fire as I drove myself into her.

The heat. Aghh, the heat. I was inside and she wrapped her legs around my ass and clenched tighter with each thrust. The strength of her gripping made me go faster. I heard her gasping. I wanted to hear more. I wanted to feel more. I could taste the blood in my mouth and her flesh contracting around me.

She was a bitch to me now, and I thrust harder. She gasped louder. There was only this for I don't recall how long. Then I saw her gleaming teeth, as she came. She gurgled. Into the bitch, I thrust again and again. She shrieked and pulled away, I grabbed her and then I came.

My body went weak against her. It was only then that I felt the magnitude of her strength.

She sank her teeth into my neck.

I was frozen. I was swimming. Floating there in the red, pulsing darkness that was my heart in time with death.

I lost consciousness then of this odd place I had been. I was in heaven. I was in hell.

I was hers.
I heard her laugh in ecstasy...

Echoing ...

Echoing ...

As I went down with her into the water, forever.

Take a breather. Have a coke ... and a smile.

Isn't it amazing what a little Anne Rice can do to someone on a rainy day?

Oh how I truly yearn for such mastery of words and emotions as to send minds reeling into forbidden and forgotten places... to have the ability to rip someone right out of their life, unbridled by thoughts of self... to provide just the right inspiration nestled into tantalizing imagery as to set minds ablaze... adventure, allure, lust, new realms, new states of matter... Oh how badly do I want to be a writer who can do all that - one who tears you into a thousand amazing new thought directions at once - releasing the thinker to hunt, explore and learn ... ahhh, to truly be... by Anya Hard

©2001 TonyaKnudsen's Anthology of Inspiration - Original Photograph for Flesh - Deise Barbaresco, Boston, MA - 1993
I guess almost everything revolves around sex, and well, money too, but that's another forum entry all together. I leisurely mouse-clicked into a Maui gay chat room tonight on the World Wide Web, barefoot, topless, holding my java in my hand, wearing nothing more than a pair of tight faded Levi's with a paint stain on the crotch and a rip in the left knee. I'm not one for online chat programs really. ICQ and Yahoo Messenger sit tranquil upon my desktop collecting Internet dust and most of my friends have given up on trying to contact me with these methods, but tonight I was bored to death and sauntered into Gay Maui for something to do, with my avatar picture you see now, as my profile. I click the mouse. I'm in. There are approximately 15 or so people online, nobody is saying anything on the main channel, all enwrapped in cyber sexed private messages I'm sure. Then it happens. I get messaged. I have in my profile that I do not want sex, I make that very apparent because 95% of gay chat rooms are meant for sexual hookups, those quick, simple suck-off sessions in a car, only to meet back up on the chat the next day to repeat the process over with another "sucker". I've done this only once in my life, a long time ago and wish I never had, but I was horny, not to mention bored after a guy typing me 101 ways he make me ˜explode in his reciprocation required'. I'm a male of the species therefore blowjobs are always high quality in my life and I ended up taking him up on the offer. He picked me up in his car at around 1 AM, drove behind an old school, I unbuttoned and hauled my pants to my ankles in the front seat, leaned back with my arms above my head, let him hungrily attack my crotch until I came in his mouth. He got what he wanted, a ˜dessert' of sorts and I could finally be able to sleep that night. It was all good except for that disgusted feeling afterwards of suddenly feeling like a typical chat line fag whore. I've never done it again and I never plan to. That's not my forte, never was, never will be, but some people just can't comprehend that there may be a person that comes on a chat line to actually CHAT. Besides, the greatest orgasms I've ever had in my life have come from my own hand and my own deliciously polluted psyche.
It's not really easy to get someone like me off. I'm pretty desensitized sexually not to mention I'm not into the typical "suck, fuck, cum, sleep" type normalcy. Even if I wanted to fuck, I doubt very much I would find the type of person into the same things as me or at least be honest enough to admit it. Besides, sex is way over-rated, not to mention it can kill you in the year 2002 just as fast as a switch in an electric chair. Got to be careful folks, and safe.
I'm also very fussy on who I sleep with. For one, the guy usually always, 99% of the time MUST have longhair and a goatee or look purely rock-n-roll. That alone pretty much wipes out the majority of the gay community which is why in my past I've mostly slept with straight men secretly behind closed doors who have hit on ME, wanting to ˜experiment', knowing that I was not only very trustworthy, but also gay and a ˜different kind' of gay guy. I was like THEM, which made them feel comfortable. My close friends that know me in person will tell you that I'm usually always deemed the "if I ever slept with a guy, it would be Johnny" type dude (a heterosexual guy even said that out loud once at a bar here in Maui and shocked the fuck out of everyone at the table, not to mention made me the envy of a lot of gay men there LOL), and that's cool, and a damn awesome compliment as well that I very much appreciate. But I've never hit on them EVER, I wasn't feminine, I listened to heavy metal, fought and wore leather rocker jackets, ripped jeans and longhair and have dived into a mosh pit with the best of them. The only difference between us was that I sucked dick, nothing more. They capitalized on that factor and believe me; I had no problem with that whatsoever. I got my ˜type' (longhaired rocker boys), and they got to cum whenever the hell they wanted, with absolutely no hang-ups or nagging girlfriends. We both walked away happy and partied our asses off afterwards. It was all good.
I've had a lot of opportunity here on Maui to get laid, some even from longhaired surfers and hippies from Little Beach, but the most that has ever happened was just simple making out at the drum circles at night there when I first came to Maui. It could have went farther if I let it. It's not the actual act of ˜cumming' I have a problem with (believe me I do THAT many times a day by my own volition LOL) it's just that.... well.... It has to be super filthy in order for me to actually enjoy it.
Luckily, I was always privileged enough to get my ˜brand' of boy and Crystn-James was the perfect embodiment of such. Bad ass, longhaired, tattooed, vocalist in a local rock band and he was a self-absorbed asshole that tried to mask it with a coy smile and malleable voice. The instant I laid my eyes on him that night we met, I seen past the bullshit he so adequately pulled over everyone else's eyes, but it was tolerable because he had a personified rock star attitude, and that's what made my dick hard.
When I met him he was 20 years old. I was 16 years old and ran off from the secure precincts of small town living to the metropolis of the steel city where he seemed to waiting in a backroom corner of a coffee shop, legs spread, cigarette dangling from his mouth sporting a thick goatee and a coy grin. I was new meat so to speak, a 16 year old, small town rocker queer with long dark hair and attitude, the young Johnny Depp clone, the artist with so many possibilities he had seen that I was completely blinded to at the time. I remember him just sitting there studying me and my body language, taking it in with a big cheshire-cat grin on his face.
There was a moment when I once thought, in my teenaged uncertainty, that I loved him like he loved me. Yes, we had eventually spent two and a half years together as a couple but ultimately, the basis of our relationship was pure sex and man, did we ever fuck. Two young pieces of trouble tightly wrapped up in longhair and ripped jeans, brash attitude to match a self-destructing lifestyle, the nightly finale always ending up in a sweat-sopped inferno of hair and metal music, room sweltering and fragrant of fresh cum and wet leather. It was the first time I truly smelled the invigorating stench of boy the moment I shoved my face in his ass and I never looked back since.
He would reach over and place the butt end of a lit cigarette in my mouth, lean back and sigh, my jizz still strewn across his chest running down his ribcage onto the soaked sheets.
"You're dripping baby", I'd mutter in between hauls of the nicotine stick.
He'd run his ringed finger through the thick load on his skin and place it in his mouth, running his other hand through his hair, away from his face.
I would glance over at the slayed meat that lay beside me. Long dark wavy hair down the center of his back, neck riddled with silver chains and wrists to match. Tattoos of a black panther scrawled across his leg, a cracked heart in the center of his chest, black tribal art over his right arm and an arm banner on the left. Two words inked into his beautiful flesh:
His real name was Jamie; he changed it legally once he started singing in the band. Thought it was a more appropriate ˜stage name'. Whatever....
I'd get up, tie my hair back in a ponytail and walk over to the window naked. Open it as I felt him come up behind me and nuzzle into my neck. Another drag of the cigarette....the cassette of Black Sabbath's ˜Born Again' album or something similar would flip in the stereo.
I think I came once halfway through the guitar riff of ˜Digital Bitch'. Funny the little things you remember as your shooting off....
The last time i heard, Crystn was still in Canada, chopped off all his long locks and is now a practising Buddhist.
I really need to start fucking again, it's been way, WAY too long. haha
Damn boys, with their unwashed hair and shabby, tattered faded
Levi's, sauntering around the concrete jungle reminiscent of a
slimy serpent slithering in between the cracks of right of wrong,
black from white. Blood stained lips sucking the last haul from the
butt end of a borrowed cigarette, flipping the nicotine stick with a
snap of the wrist into the chaotic heart of a hectic intersection,
legs spread eagle on a gravel sprinkled sidewalk, drumming a filthy
boot on the ground to the sound of a passing car and spittin blood
onto the cold stone sidewalk.

Fuckin bad boys I love them so.

I'd sit and watch as a youngster in the 1970's at my
brother's buddies fuckin around on the weekends, talking their
around his killer black SS Nova, long hair clad in denim splendor,
Deep Purple ripping out of the thunderous speakers of the car
stereo, and right then and there I knew what I wanted for Christmas.

My childhood was filled with the sickening sexual splendor of
fantasies of rock and roll boys. I'd snatch my brothers Black
Sabbath records, slap the headphones over my own mane, blast the
volume to 10 and lay back with my eyes shut; visions of dirty rock
club bathrooms became my subsequent home away from reality, humid
and grimy with the sickly sweet stink of discolored urinals and the
residue scum of cocaine particles leeched onto the back of a cracked
toilet. I'd visualize snorting the first shot of snow up my
ripping out my cock and pounding off over the stall wall, the two
week long unwashed stench of dick hammering in my head and filling
the stale air.

I think I was about 10 years old.

It only got worse. Nothing was filthy enough or dirty enough to get
me off. There was no boy on this globe that could defile me to my
liking. I always rose up, licked the jizz off a shit-stained finger
and left unsatisfied, out onto the boulevard with a lit butt hanging
out of my lips and a pack of smokes tucked tightly up the sleeve of
a white t-shirt.

Useless fucks. But yet, I couldn't stay away. They were like

I flicked my smoke up against a graffiti splattered wall and was
lured into the cellar by the invigorating stench of man and spilled
whiskey, skull pounding. The type of annoyance that starts at you
forehead, just above the center of your eyes and creeps its way into
the rear of your neck and festers there. Smeared the snot from my
nose with a blooded sleeve and heedlessly saunter down the stairs
into the dim basement; a solitary light on in the distant darkened
corner gleaming orange just above his head as he sat unconscious in
the bulky, tattered chair.

A vision of splendid perfection in my eyes. A grimy, decomposing
junkie in the eyes of others.

Hadn't bathed in over a week, long blond hair hanging sweat
sopped and filthy over a pale face sporting a dark goatee, a
blackened eye and a nostril caked with crusted blood. He sat
shirtless, moist, slimy and cold; soiled ripped jeans unbuttoned,
slightly exposing a dark tuff of urine scented pubic hair.

The room was hot, clammy, and smelled sour and musky, not unlike
rotted damp clothes stuffed in a dusty attic room. Shattered beer
bottles and needles riddled the cement floor and dried vomit hung
crusted on the walls and in a puddle at his bare feet.
A true vision of self destructive majesty spread out like meat, lain
in front of me, the sinner with nine lives half naked and pleading
to be mounted, fucked and put out of his misery.

His head slightly turns downward as I kneel down in front of him; a
crooked smile stretches across his face as he becomes aware of my
presence between his legs on the soiled floor.

A large shiny cockroach scurries across his chest, stops to taste
his nipple ring and takes cover inside the cushions of the chair.

Maybe....just maybe I actually WOULD be able to sleep tonight after

Man, I just have to share this really fun experience I had last weekend. I went to Tigard
to help a friend with an errand. She stayed there and I decided (before hand) to "meet up" with a couple from there. We had met in a Feet Chat room
and they had kept in touch a few times via e-mail.

They are an older D/s couple with the the wife as DOMME and the hubby, bill, as sub. They liked our cyber(s) and had sent me pics as well. We agreed to meeting and talking. They are members of
Janus(?) and some other D/s groups. Bill is a submissive CD and his wife loves leather/pvc. I met them at Denny's and we chatted and ate pie. After a bit I agreed to follow them to their nice rambler style home. I was a little nervous, but BILL was quite laid back, older and heavy. I didn't see him as much of a threat. We looked at some fetish clothing, talked more about experiences and tastes. Bill admitted to being bi and attracted to me. His wife told me they liked cuckold fantasy/play. To make a long story short I ended up staying til late in the evening having such kinky play. It was AWESOME...I got to wear a pair of her stilletto thigh highs, which were a little tight on the toes, model my thong underwear, sit on Bill's face as the MRS. slapped and whipped his balls, Both Bill and I played with gags and massaged her feet, AND I got to slip on (AND KEEP!!!) a sexy pair of tan thigh high stockings they gave me. I got to walk around on my tip toes flexing my legs and working the hose as BILL followed me on all fours kissing my heels and calves. The night ended with me and the MRS. sitting cross legged next to each other on their couch as BILL sucked my toes and posed my feet to his fetish/liking. Then I turned around and let him jack off onto my cupped nylon feet (which was a trip to watch) as she stood behind him and whipped his back. IT was awesome and I plan on hanging out with them again soon. I never thought of meeting someone from a chat room before. Now I'm glad I did.
Maybe on eBay they are, daddy, but our distributor (Billy, the new editor) sells them to us at a price and we just do the normal markup. No gouging at all... honest.
Besides, STH is such a work of art that it needs to be disseminated to the young'uns at a low price.

But...though we usually don't sell "used" items... what is going for over $100 is the complete "Scent" issue of Visionaire that I found put out in the garbage out front. Go figure!
Maybe we should just move that decimal point over a notch, hmmm?

Seriously, though, STH is one of the greatest sources of modern gay writing. I found them when I first moved to the city, and I relished every dirty detail that writers would share (even the really uncomfortable ones). It was very all glamorous and Jean Genet to a new kid on the block, trust.

I urge readers to subscribe to Dean Johnson's myspace blog for a 21st-century dose of Straight To Hell-style writing. We all know Dean is incredbly prolific; his wit and wisdom are unmatched in accounting for the day-to-day minutia of being a rock star/40+ year-old hustler. What a genius he is. I can't figure out the exact link so that it makes sense, but if you go into Rapture Cafe & Books myspace, clikc on Dean Johnson under our friends, you'll get there.

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