From Confused to Convinced
Chapter One
In the early 80's, I lived in Boston while attending a community college, which was located on one of the main subway lines, "The Orange Line".
The trains run extensively throughout the city and into the suburbs and a person can pretty much get to anywhere they want to go.
I always wanted to go downtown where the adult bookstores, strip-joints, adult-theaters and glory-holes were located.
Many days after class I would take the train, just a few stops further down from the school to an area called "The Combat Zone", a nefarious neighborhood located on the edges of China Town and the business and hospital districts, not far from the main shopping district of the city.
In the summertime, you would find hookers walking the streets, practically naked, never wearing panties or bras, flashing their cunts at the potential "Johns" stuck in traffic.
The cops were all "on the take", so they mostly looked the other way, as long as the prostitutes just did their jobs and didn't cause any trouble.
One day after classes, I'd headed into downtown to see if I could find some hard cock to suck on. I was still very much "experimenting" with the idea that I enjoyed sucking cock.
It wasn't long before that I had begun giving guys blow-jobs and I had only ever received blow-jobs from other men, mostly older men, but also from some college kids experimenting with their sexuality, just like myself.
I'd made the usual rounds at all my favorite places on Washington St. that day, which is the main drag, but didn't find any promising prospects.
I'd gone to all of my favorite cruising spots, a bookstore that also had an arcade filled with glory-hole booths and featured a round stripper-stage, surrounded by booths in which men would jerk-off while watching.
Most of the ladies were just a bunch of sorry looking sluts grinding away on a circular stage, fat asses and stinky cunts pressed against the clouded and dingy glass windows, which were only revealed after feeding coins into a machine.
There were also several other bookstores that were basically just filled with video booths, and I'd cruised all of them without any luck. I'd saved my very favorite place for last, though.
It was located on the 2nd floor of what appeared to be an office building, accessed from a dingy, old brick entrance way off the main street, and didn't even have a neon sign or anything telling you it was a "club" of any type.
Only the truly hungry and adventurous cocksuckers like myself and those needing blow-jobs just as desperately, would have found it.
You had to be at least a little brave and probably a lot stupid, just too even explore this darkened, old, dingy and piss stained brick stairwell, leading seemingly to nowhere.
The homeless slept there at night and everyone else used it like a public toilet to take a quick leak on their way to where ever, during the day.
The stairway actually led to a very small glory-hole club on the 2nd-floor, only 10 booths altogether, eight joined by glory-holes and two others which were private, without glory-holes connecting them.
I happened to be the lone cocksucker that day and the booth across from me was like a turn-style, one hard cock after another poking through the hole one after another, for a good hour or so.
At one point, one of the guys came into my booth to get serviced directly and the next thing I knew there was a line formed outside my booth, five or six dudes jerking their cocks and waiting their turn; all accept the last guy in line, who was in his mid-forties.
He had salt-n-pepper colored hair, of Italian heritage (I later found out), wearing a "wife-beater" and a pair of jeans which clearly outlined his huge hard-on. Those other cocks belonged to boys but this guy was a man.
He had muscular arms and a hairy chest with thick legs, and he was over six feet tall. He wore a mustache and goatee and like most Italian middle-aged men, he was balding.
I'd decided to take a break after the fourth or fifth cock and made my way out of the booth and through the crowded aisle. There was hardly any light in that place other than that which was coming from the television screens in the vacant booths, so I was almost blind coming out of the booth.
I carefully squeezed my way past everyone until the "Italian Stallion" brushed his hard cock against me as I half-heartedly attempted to get past him in the dark, rubbing my ass across his groin.
He'd worn a cock-ring and his erection was standing straight up in his well-worn jeans. His long, thick, hard cock bulged obscenely and those fat balls were held up tight and pushed to one side and his thick, hard shaft, topped off with a perfect head were clearly outlined on the other side of his jeans.
Even in the dim almost non-existent light of the club, his cock stood out.
I pretended not to notice, but my cock jumped in my shorts and as I lingered for a fraction of a second, allowing his erection to settle briefly between my cheeks, I looked back over my shoulder and found the intense glare of his brown eyes, seeming to bore a hole into my head, as he grabbed my ass possessively.
I reached down to grab his pouch, running my hands up and down all over it before pulling away to enter one of the private booths.
I purposely left the door unlocked and had just put some tokens in the machine when he quickly entered the booth behind me, pulled his hard cock out of his jeans and ordered me to, "Get on your knees and suck it, boy!"
His tone of voice and demeanor conveyed a man-in-charge and not to be disobeyed. He placed his strong hands on my shoulders and pushed me to my knees, the head of his cock and hairy balls only inches from my parted lips. He thrust his hips forward, as I knelt on that filthy floor and opened my mouth for him.
He grabbed a handful of my hair and rubbed my face in his hairy loins, shoving my face between his muscular thighs, smothering my mouth with his scrotum and feeding me his hairy, musky smelling balls. His masculine aroma filled my nostrils. I was getting cock-drunk from his smell.
He began to get pretty rough with me and grabbed my ears, shoving his cock down my throat and fucking my face and calling me "pig" over and over again. And as he fucked my throat and slapped my face with his cock, I truly felt like a "pig".
After about twenty minutes of him skull-fucking me, he pulled his cock out of my throat and told me, "Let's go to my place for a cold beer and some privacy."
I looked up past his hard from my knees on floor and simply replied, "Okay".
Chapter Two
We hopped on the train and about 45 minutes later, we arrived at his place, a small 2nd-floor apartment on the North Shore of Boston in a town called Salem. His apartment was a small two bedroom on the 2nd floor of a very old house which I later found out he shared with a young "straight" guy.
After a drinking a few beers and smoking a joint he ordered me to, "Stand up and take off all your clothes." After removing my shirt and dropping my shorts to the floor, he ordered me too, "Get on your knees and chew on my crotch, Pig. Use your teeth and bite it."
I placed my hands on his thighs and hesitantly placed my mouth on his balls and nibbled on them through the denim, but he wasn't at all satisfied with my feeble efforts and lowered his voice and repeating, "I said bite my cock, Boy! Chew on it harder! Harder!"
Eventually I got the idea of what he was looking for and began to really chew and bite on his bugle and he responded with moans of pleasure. This went on for maybe ten minutes before he grabbed me by the hair and pulled my head back tightly and ordered me to, "Get my cock out and suck it, Boy."
After I had noisily slurped on his big cock for quite a while, he stood up and ordered me to not let his cock slip out of my mouth, as dragged me by the hair all the way down the hall.
My kneecaps ached as I shuffled on the hardwood floors, trying desperately not to let his delicious cock slip from my lips per his orders.
His steps quickened as he coaxed me along. "Don't let go of my cock, pig. Hurry up! Come on, boy! You can do it! Come on! Don't let it slip! Don't let it slip out, Pig! Good boy!"
I'd felt a strange sense of pride in being able to endure the pain just to suck his hard cock all the way down the hall. As he opened the shower door and adjusted the temperature and the spray.
I waited there on my knees, my lips still firmly wrapped around the now leaking head of his cock, submissively looking up at him and waiting for his next command.
After leading me into the stall, he handed me his razor and said, "Shave my cock, pig. Make sure it's nice and smooth when you're done, no stubble."
I carefully lathered up his cock with shaving cream, carefully and with great attention to detail, my hands slipped up and down the shaft, cupped his balls and generally behaved like a young school girl seeing a penis for the first time, my eyes wide in amazement and I fell into something like a trance, his soapy cock and balls inches from my mouth.
It was an incredible turn-on to be on my knees with his big, hard, hairy cock and balls in my face. As I carefully began to shave his balls I thought about how wonderful it was to have total privacy for the first time in my life.
No one would interrupt us or come knocking on the door.
For the first time in my life, I was in complete and total privacy with a naked man I was having sex with and suddenly realized that no one knew where I was!
What if he had turned out to be a serial-killer who preyed on young faggots, luring them/me to his apartment only to make me service him before chopping me up into little pieces and stowing me in his freezer? Was sucking a hunky guy's fat cock worth the risk?
And after I had rinsed off the soap and double-checked for any rough spots and made some adjustments with the razor and I'd checked and double-checked every inch of his cock and balls, he finally just grabbed my head and started face-fucking me.
He also fed me a steady dosage of poppers and I began to suck his cock with reckless abandon, like a video whore, moaning and groaning and swallowing him deep down my throat like my life depended on it.
All of my inhibitions were gone and all I wanted was to taste his hot sperm erupting from his manly cock. But this man had extreme control and was more than a little determined to make me work hard for it. A piss hard-on can do that for you.
My head was spinning and drool and spit dribbled down my chin as I struggled to keep from choking, which only inspired him to get rougher with me. When he finally pulled my face off his twitching cock, he turned away from me, spreading his muscular hairy cheeks and ordered me to, "Lick my asshole, Pig!"
