Studs: Gay Erotic Fiction (13 page)

 

 

 

 

 

 

I remember, “Shane’s got a boner, Shane’s got a boner!” I remember wrestling John Mattson in the lobby of the movie theater where we worked and desperately wanting him to fuck me. He was heavy and musky on top of me. I remember the jokes the boys at school made about my wanting to suck their dicks, and with some of them I secretly wanted to. I remember Trent standing on top of a toilet while I sucked him off. I remember puddles of cum on the floor. I remember fucking myself with the handle of a spatula. I remember Lawrence Patterson’s asscrack. I remember a tattoo of orange and red flames on a dick. I remember jacking off with hair, scalp and skin oil. I remember kissing my friend Jack Lebowitz during a game of Truth or Dare. I remember regretting that I didn’t dare him to show me his dick. I remember always choosing to tell the truth because I didn’t want anyone to dare me to kiss a girl. I remember Daniel Stewart sucking me off in the bathroom of our junior high school. I remember the bathroom with its black and gold walls, the school colors. I remember his buck teeth. I remember him telling me that we couldn’t mess around anymore because he had a girlfriend. I remember caressing Brian O’Connor’s leg in social studies. I remember Dennis Miller having bad acne and pimples on his back. I remember the two Valentine’s Day cards that Michael gave me that read,
Happy Valentine’s Day, slut.
I remember eating that awful chocolate cake that accompanied the cards. I remember when he kissed me on the forehead. I remember being taken to the Hangar for the very first time. I remember that go-go boy smiling at me and feeling extremely special only to find that Michael was actually waving a dollar at him to dance for me. I was mortified as I stuck the money down into his Speedo. I remember grabbing Greg’s ass as he stepped on the school bus. I couldn’t help myself. He told everyone I was gay. I remember Brian Miller showing me his balls in math class. I remember when Eldridge James caught me jacking off in the bathroom. The entire school knew about it before lunch. For three years everyone called me “Jack.” I remember the teacher’s assistant that told me I had to go slow because he had not been fucked for a while. I remember my ninth grade phys ed coach. He had the cutest butt. I remember wondering what a jockstrap was and what it was used for. I still wonder about it. I remember needing to wear an extra pair of shorts under my sweatpants in gym so no one noticed my hard-on. It didn’t work.

I remember filthy booths with cum on the walls. I remember Alan in an orange toilet stall. He was the first guy that ever tried to fuck me. The pain was excruciating. I remember jacking off to naked boys in
Freshman
magazine. I remember seeing a picture on Kirk Read’s website of him licking someone’s black motorcycle boot. I remember a poem called, “Eat Your Cum.” I remember wondering what cum tasted like. I remember tasting my own.

I remember hot-pink dildos. I remember polishing my nails and trying on my mama’s lipstick. I remember wanting to dress like a woman for Halloween. I remember hearing about drag queens duct-taping their dicks to their legs.

I remember picking pubic hair off my tongue. I remember the sensation of soft, limp dicks in my mouth. I remember the smell of musky balls at my nose. I remember a dick smelling like baby lotion. I remember a set of balls smelling like talcum powder. I remember the odor of unclean dicks, like shrimp or stale piss.

I remember gay personal ads in the
Tallahassee Democrat
. I remember the buzz cut and how hot Jim Carrey looked in tight jeans in
Me, Myself and Irene.
I remember having hot fantasies about Bill Clinton coming on Monica Lewinsky’s navy-blue dress. I remember wondering about the size of his dick, too. I still wonder about it.

I remember a guy asking after he blew me, how good his blow job was. He asked if it was in the top ten or the top five. I had to be honest and I told him it was in the top ten. I remember as I started to take my shirt off while this guy blew me, he said, “You don’t need to be doing that.”

I remember having a crush on Chris Mott after finding out that he was a slut. I remember all the jewelry he wore around his neck and on his wrists. I remember Nik dressed in black with long, brown, curly hair he used to wear in a ponytail. He wore lots of rings and had long fingernails like a vampire. I remember thinking if he were a vampire, I would totally let him drink my blood.

I remember the janitor with a Jheri curl warning me to stay out of the bathrooms or I would get in trouble. I remember the racist, redneck security guard who threatened to arrest me if I didn’t stay out of the bathrooms. I remember looking through the slit of his stall at a guy picking lint out of his pubic hair. I remember a guy with curly hair, a glazed eye and a big dick. I remember his arm reaching over the wall of the stall at me. I remember the only two stalls with glory holes cut in the walls. I remember every stall being full. I remember
tap foot for blow job.
I remember a dick that was too big to fit through a glory hole. I remember a guy that kept saying, “Pull it, pull it.”

I remember seeing a metal ring around a man’s balls and trying to pull it off. I remember finding out later it was known as a cock ring. I remember big, blushing balls in a leather cock ring. I remember thinking that I had a foot fetish.

I remember when Ron told me not to shower before coming over to get my ass rimmed. I remember watching gay porn in Noel’s room. I remember the copy of
Black Inches
he bought from a newsstand. I remember how tight his ass was in jeans. I remember how pissed I was when I found out he was dating someone seriously.

I remember cruising in the woods of Lost Lake. I remember a boy in blue swim trunks. I remember a man driving around in his car naked. I remember when he said he was
all sucked off.
I remember Sonny, who sucked me off on the hood of his Cadillac. I remember when he used to work at the gas station wearing his rainbow necklace. I remember seeing a guy walk stark naked through the woods like it was nothing at all.

 

I remember Collin giving me head in a park across the street from his house. I remember the cum stain I left on his brown pants. I remember how disgusted I felt after we fucked. I remember driving home with shit on my dick and a shit stain on the front of my underwear. I remember swearing that I would never fuck him again. I remember sloppy kisses in the front seat of his gray Mustang with the cranberry-colored seats. I remember making out with Collin in the back room of Panhandle Pet Supply where he worked. I remember the scratches on Collin’s back as I fucked him on his couch. I remember his cat licking my scalp as Collin rode me. I remember thinking that Bisexual Cats would be a good name for a band. I remember shit on my dick again once I was done and not minding it so much. I remember swallowing Collin’s cum and thinking afterward that he was not worthy of the privilege. I remember Collin standing butt-naked in the middle of his living room begging me to give him head (naïve bastard).

 

I remember the first time I swallowed someone’s cum. I remember how I gagged. I remember how happy I was to find someone who was into eating ass. I remember when he said, “Give me that chocolate sauce,” meaning my cum. I remember him sucking me off but stopping whenever he got email. I remember when he told me that he had a place but his wife was always home. I remember the noise we made as he rode me. I remember the beauty marks on his back. I remember how warm his asshole felt. I remember how pale his ass was. I remember pierced nipples. I remember big black boots with lots of buckles and realizing that he was one of those goth guys. I remember thinking
What in the hell have I gotten myself into?
I remember wondering why the walls of the sex arcade were being painted black.

 

I remember when the doctor at the clinic told me that I tested positive for herpes. I remember my cum oozing out gelatinously.

I remember Keerati, a cute boy I worked with at a computer lab. I remember looking over the stall and discovering how small his dick was. I remember a tiny hole in the wall of a stall, and written above it was, CHINESE GLORY HOLE. I remember thinking how rude that was.

I remember really salty cum and really sweet cum. I remember Brian’s cum tasting quite sweet. I remember the cute Mexican with a really big dick he wouldn’t let me suck. I remember a lot of men who were cock-teases. I remember a fat guy dressed all in black with a little dick. I remember a dick with lots of veins. It was gross and I refused to suck it. I remember really uncomfortable sex in my Ford Ranger with a theater major from Miami. I remember a man from Alabama with bad body odor. I remember an ugly Cuban guy with a really big dick. I remember the black-and-white photo given to me of a guy pissing in the woods. I remember gay porn magazines in sealed manila envelopes. I remember smokers’ breath in my face. I remember dirty messages written in green ink on toilet paper. I remember looking at men’s dicks while they pissed at urinals. I remember wandering eyes.

I remember wondering what George Michael wore when he was busted in that L.A. bathroom. I remember the impression soft dicks make through basketball shorts. I remember wondering how big Shaquille O’Neal’s dick is.

I remember my first gay pride parade. I remember half-naked men on parade floats and Brazilian men in gorgeous black and yellow headdresses.

 

I remember when Chris said I have a nice personality and give good head. I remember running my fingers up the crack of his ass. I remember him holding on to my shoulders as he face-fucked me. I remember the blonde girls he brought home. He told me that one of them passed out while the other sucked his dick. I remember feeling pissed off and jealous. I remember riding to McDonald’s in his PT Cruiser. I remember him telling me how good the McRib sandwich was, and trying it, but thinking that it wasn’t all that good. I remember wanting to sit and talk with him all night, but he acted as if he couldn’t stand to be around me another second. I remember when he told me I could come over to suck his dick because his girlfriend was at the movies. I was happy and excited. When I got there he told me that she had called and said she would be over in twenty minutes. I remember that Monday afternoon I gave him a blow job. I remember the black pajama bottoms he wore. I remember watching him through the window of his apartment. I remember his dick was so big he had to jack off with both hands. I remember the first two shirts I bought him from JC Penney. I remember us watching “MTV Jams” in his living room. I remember how happy he was before “she” moved in. I remember a bag of Hershey’s Christmas Kisses and an ashtray filled with cigarettes. I remember notes on windshields. I remember giving him a heart-shaped chocolate wrapped in red foil. I remember when he came in my mouth and how bitter it tasted. I was going to spit it out but there wasn’t anything around so I swallowed it. I remember how scared he was when he caught me standing outside of his apartment like a crazy person. I remember rushing home and calling to apologize. I remember being afraid that he would call the cops. I remember his hairy ass and wanting to give him a rim job. I remember, “Open your mouth. I want to shoot it in your mouth.” I remember leaving because his dick was just too intense. I remember, “Come back. It feels so good.” I remember when he wanted me to use my hand more. I remember, “Faster, suck me faster.”

 

I remember Anthony who sucked me off in the parking lot of a library. I remember Jason who was only available on the first or second of July for sucking, getting sucked and getting fucked. I remember Dale who wanted to go clean his ass before getting fucked. I remember Richard and how his stomach growled as I blew him. I remember Von Ash in green shorts and a stocking cap. I remember making out on the floor in my bedroom and how his dick curled up like a hook. I remember when I wanted to stop having sex with him and how he begged me to continue. I remember pinching Greg’s ass. I remember giving a letter to Thaddeus telling him how I felt about him. He hated me for it afterward. I remember meeting Matt for the first time. He wore all black with black boots and had a shaved head. I remember thinking that he was a white supremacist.

I remember the brown carpet in my aunt’s bedroom. I remember the first time I jacked off. I was twelve, sitting on the carpet in front of her Zenith TV. I remember my cousin and other boys standing under a clothesline showing their dicks to one another. I remember kissing my cousin Darrin on the mouth while he slept. I remember seeing Jarret with his shirt off. He quickly put it back on when he saw me looking. I remember how Matt looked in his black leather jacket. I remember jacking off in the lower bunk below my roommate. I remember finding porn magazines in his desk. I remember attempting to fuck Greg, but he was too tall for me to get my dick up his ass.

I remember knowing so many men named John I began to think I would end up with a partner named John. I still believe that.

I remember jacking off with butter. I remember jacking off with mayonnaise. I remember jacking off with vegetable oil. I remember jacking off with syrup. I remember jacking off with toothpaste, but it burned. I remember not being able to come because I had too much to drink. I remember how pissed off I would be after waking up from a really hot sex dream. I remember the smell of egg custard during sex.

I remember a guy eating my ass, but stopping because he said it was too sweaty. I remember a guy rimming my ass and telling me that it tasted like shit. I remember the nineteen-year-old I sucked off. He wouldn’t stop complimenting me on my blow jobs and said he would tell all his friends how good I was.

I remember Oscar, whose shirt looked like a picnic tablecloth. I remember making out with him outside of Stonewall Bar. I remember a guy walking past and saying, “Ah, true love.” I remember walking into Christopher Street Bookstore, which really wasn’t a bookstore at all, but a place that sold sex toys and videos and had a basement with booths. For ten bucks you could suck and fuck as many men as you wanted.