SLEAZE
Has there ever been a guy you've seen at the baths, park, or
rest stop who you vowed you'd never have sex with?
That's what I thought about the old Trolls in the park. They hung around the urinals, rubbing their
crotches, exposing themselves, whispering obscene innuendoes beneath their
foul-smelling breaths.
The old reprobates utterly appalled me, and I vowed never to
have anything to do with them in a million years.
I saw their type each time I went cruising. Mind you, I wasn't looking for sex; but
the rabble so intrigued me that I felt compelled to study the flotsam—from a
safe distance, of course. The old
creeps so freaked me out that I always made sure I was home before dusk. I was convinced those miscreants
would resort to physical violence if aroused.
Yet safe at home I wondered what it would have happened if
they had groped me or I had sucked their Cocks. I began to beat off to those fantasies,
never suspecting I had begun to transmorph.
Then one day, I was sitting in a stall beating my meat when
I noticed an eyeball peering at me through
the peephole. I looked again and
it winked. Lo and behold I yanked
up my britches and sprang to my feet, but to my surprise Eyeball beat me to the punch. When I opened the stall door there he
stood, trou down around his ankles, sporting an enormous 10 inches.
I kid you not. I know lots
of guys who claim to have
been with a "10," but he was truly that big. I gawked and my mouth fell
open—exactly the wrong signal to send.
Fantasies of sucking that "10," of swallowing his Load, and being
impaled on that pole coursed through my mind. I felt my knees weaken and feared I'd succumb on the spot.
Employing my best "Satan, Get
Thee Behind Me!" persona, I made my way to the door. The guy
plying that Monster Shaft followed,
How I wished he would have raped my Ass then and there!
"Cum on! Let's get it off!
Ya know ya want it!"
Yeah, I did want it.
But I just couldn't accept that I'd grown so sleazy that I'd fuck in
public with a Sleazeball like him. So with nary a word, and without glancing back, I walked off
to my car.
The horny Fucker, probably anticipating "Your place or mine?" pursued me. We exchanged furtive glances. My heart skipped a beat as I was tempted to yield to my
baser instincts, but from deep within came the nag, "start your engine!"
I drove home dismayed by my cowardice and misanthropy. My penchant for denying myself
had begun to grate on my soul. For
months to cum, Eyeball
invaded my fantasies; and I jacked off nightly contemplating what might have been.
Spring turned into summer before my sexual urges again
overwhelmed me and I returned to the park. At last I had cum to grips with my needs. Conditionally I allowed guys to touch
me and even more conditionally touched them back. Thank god Safe Sex was
just a passing phase.
Among the men whom I once found so repulsive, I eventually
barebacked with ALL who would have
me. Yeah, a lot of them turned out
to be POZ,
and some (bless their souls) have since died of AIDS. Some of my current aficionados are so SICKLY and SUNKEN
(whether from HIV or the Meds) that they repulse most of
cruisers like me.
Actually I now find "FRAIL" kind
of sexy—cause it shows a guy's been around.
It's my willingness to service any Mouth, Cock, or Asshole, REGARDLESS OF STATUS,
that has earned me the reputation I have today. How many times have the brothers commented on how much I've evolved and what a HOT SLUT
I've become.
If I have one regret, it's that I waited so long to give in to my fantasies. God, the fun I missed as a teen!
I've found a lot of the guys I once regarded as sleazy are
just pussies at heart; and I bet a lot of the Newbies, who see me fucking in
public, vow to have nothing to do with someone so sleazy—not in a million years.