Sex Histories	Sex Histories Archive

California -- I love your books and remember when they only came in pamphlets. Boy, did I look forward to every new issue. The first time I saw one was when I answered an ad in the Berkeley Barb back in the 70s for this guy who was looking for a "cocksucker-slave." Well I was a cocksucker, but I wasn't a slave just a young man who thought being told what to do was a real turn-on.

Anyway I went to this guy's house in San Francisco and was real nervous. He was built great and was about 26 years old. I was 22. I wanted it real bad but I was so nervous that I couldn't get turned on. He must have sensed it and was very patient.

H

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e brought out a stack of your STH pamphlets and asked if I had ever seen them. I said no and started to read. They were the nastiest books I had ever read in my life. All the cocksucking, rimming, piss etc. soon had me really turned on, but I was still real nervous. This guy just let me read while he took off all his clothes and sat on the couch in just a jock strap. What a sight.

I kept reading but snuck looks at him while he rubbed his crotch. He was about 5 feet 10 inches, brown wavy hair. I don't remember much about his face but his body was trim and really well defined, especially his chest and stomach, and completely hairless.

I guess he saw the hard-on in my jeans and told me to stand up and get undressed. I did, but I don't think I won any seduction awards that day because of my timidness, although I was quite a dish, 5 feet 8 inches, 134 lbs., curly blond hair, blue eyes, tight body with sun-bleached hair on my chest, 28 waist, and a fat cock.

He led me to his other room where there was a workout bench. He told me to lie down on it on my back. He turned his back to me and straddled me with his thighs and ass over my face. He squatted a bit and told me to relax and just smell his ass crack as I stroked my dick. His ass was lily white and smooth with some fuzz filling his crack, and it smelled just right-- not like shit but like just the right amount of pent-up sweat and shit residue.

I quickly started getting into it. He asked if I was ready to eat his hole. I said yes and he pulled his cheeks apart and squatted more, which planted his asshole right on my lips. I remember how warm and sticky it was. It kind of stuck to my lips.

Everything I did that day he instructed me to do, from licking his hole to sucking his balls to slurping his cock, which was only about six inches but had a great shape.

I was so turned on by him using my mouth that I came before he wanted me to. He got pissed off and said that I had to get him off, too, and made me tongue-fuck his asshole until he came.

After I cum I'm usually ready to quit and I didn't really want to rim him more, but he insisted and I was too nervous and inexperienced to do anything. He really took advantage of that after I shot my load, because he was mad and wanted to go longer. He started to get real nasty. He said that I promised he could piss on me and I said that I would do it next time and I wouldn't be as nervous.

Well, as I said, he made me eat his ass while he jacked off and then without telling me, he pulled his asshole off my mouth, turned around and shot his load all over my face-- the biggest load I have ever seen to this day. It went all over my lips, up my nose, in my eyes, in my hair. I couldn't believe it. I didn't think it would ever stop. There was so much of it and my eyes were closed, I thought he was pissing on my face.

When he finally stopped my face felt like it was covered with glue. I couldn't wait to wipe it off and asked if he had a towel. He started to get even nastier calling me cocksucker and butt-licker. He pulled me up and swung me around in front of his mirror and said, "Look in the mirror, cum-eater."

I looked and if I wasn't so scared I would have laughed because my face was literally covered with sperm. It was dripping from everywhere, not just wet and shiny but huge globs of white sperm.

I asked for a towel again and he grabbed my clothes and threw them out in the hallway of his apartment building. What a shit.

Then he pushed me out, too, and closed the door.

I had to get dressed as quick as I could before someone came down the hall. He kept my underwear and my T-shirt. All I had was my jeans and my sneakers. He even kept my socks.

I got my jeans on and my shoes then tried to wipe the cum off my face with just my hand, which only made it worse. So I had to walk to my car without my shirt on and with this shit's sperm all over my face and hair and my car was three blocks away.

Then this asshole had the nerve to call me three days later and persisted in calling for the next three weeks to talk filthy over the phone.

I never saw him again but somehow wish I could go back in time knowing what I do now, because the whole scene in my memory still turns me on a lot.

I have some stories of this guy I met on a phone line who used to call me at 2 A.M to come over and service him blindfolded. I would go inside his dark house get naked put the blindfold on and kneel. Then he'd come out and use my mouth. He was really nasty but I used to put the blindfold on in such a way that I could see out the bottom of it. He didn't know this but I got some good looks at him. He looked good, like Fernando Lamas's son. I'll tell you about his kinks sometime. He was the first man to piss in my mouth then get mad because I couldn't drink it fast enough.

Author Profile:  Boyd McDonald

Born in 1925 in South Dakota, Boyd McDonald entered Harvard as a high-school dropout after serving in the army in World War II. Jobs with Time, IBM, and several Wall Street firms preceded Boyd's career as a chronicler of gay sex. He was the founder and editor of Straight to Hell (alternatively the Manhattan Review of Cocksucking), and later published a number of anthologies of true sex histories. Boyd died in September 1993, two months after completing his final book, Scum.