Hey, me again.
So, this time I thought I'd actually go back to the beginning. Not as far back as the day I was born, but far enough to when I was getting called a lot of names before I paid my three-year debt at Folsom Penitentiary. But these names, they weren't as fun as 'Crisco'. Nah, these names were pole dancer, fudge packer, Tinker Bell… you know, the usual shit from unimaginative Middle America fuckheads who barely squeezed through high school. But I guess it was to be expected coming from a small town outside of Kansas City, Misery. I can't tell you much more than that though; because I've still got some family and friends there that I ain't interested in "outing" as my family and friends. I may like my life as an open book, but they don't seem to appreciate it much. But this'll be the only secret I keep from you. I promise.
Anyway, speaking of high school, remember before, in my first memoir, when I mentioned Mark Gorman and I said I was gonna tell you about him later? Well, now is later. I said he taught me everything I know, which is mostly true. I did pick up a few tricks of my own though after we went our separate ways after graduation. Mark went off and joined the Navy because he didn't have no where else to go or know how to do anything else but serve burgers for any kind of work, and he heard that out of the four military branches, the Navy did the most cock-sucking and ass-licking. I don't know how true that is though. I heard there was more man on man action in the Marines, but I ain't seen or talked to Mark since we split ways almost twenty years ago, to find out if it was true or not. Unless word got out where we grew up, he probably don't even know I did time.
But I wanted to write about Mark because he was my first and only love; although, I guess you always think you're in love when you're that young and horny. But I'm pretty sure it was love because Mark was the only guy I'd been with when I didn't want to be with anyone else. Yeah, that's right, this hard-ass ex-con who still dabbles in a little "criminal activity" (more on that later), was happy having a monogamous relationship at one time. In fact, the day Mark went off to basic training was, and still is, the worst day of my fucked-up existence.
I tried to get Mark to go with me to either New York or L.A., but he didn't want that. He was determined to be more than he could be, which I kinda understood, even though to me, he was already perfect just as he was.
Well, it don't fucking matter. What's done is done, right? I've got a lot of good memories from the time we spent together, which is why I want to get this shit down on paper before I start to lose it.
As I mentioned before, I dropped the football team once I saw the hot action of a wrestling match. This was a time in any boy's life when it was difficult to keep your fuckin' hard-on from poppin' up whenever you saw a hot guy or felt a gentle breeze glide across your crotch.
Jason Wells was on the matt, in a middle weight match against our rival high school, and his opponent was this skinny, but toned guy who lost to Jason that day. This other guy was cute, but I didn't think anything of him until the match was over and he was walking away with a bulge that was screaming, "come fuck me now, I'm horny as hell."
I remember being surprised that he wasn't wearing a cup. Why the fuck wasn't he wearing a cup? And no matter what the guy did to try to cover up his excitement with his hands or a towel, it didn't work, so I guess it was a good thing that Jason won and all eyes were on him. My eyes would have been on Jason too if it hadn't been for the massive distraction trying to rip through his opponent's red latex. And that was the first time I laid eyes on Mark.
I signed up for wrestling the next day. It was now my goal now to wrestle Mark. But even though I had been on the football team, I was still eight pounds too light to make the middle weight section of the team, so I had to bulk up and fast.
I had always been a skinny kid growing up, and even after I managed to pack on the extra muscle, I was still a scrawny little twinkie. At least, that's what I think every time I look at an old school picture of myself. I remember having pubs, but not like what I got now. I was pretty smooth back then and even if I grew a little hair somewhere other than in my pits or around my cock, it had to get shaved because of the sport.
Anyway, the time finally came when we were playing against our rival school again, and me and Mark had been paired up. I paid attention to his package to see if he was wearing a cup this time, and although he wasn't aroused yet, I could tell by the way the spandex wrapped around his flaccid cock that there was no cup protecting him. That's when it dawned on me that he was strictly a "no cup" guy. He was purposefully keeping it off so he could feel the other guys brush up against his dick.
I excused myself from the bench by telling the coach I had to take a piss and ran into the locker room to take out my cup too. I wanted this to be a signal to Mark that I was just like him, and I wanted him to rub up against my cock as much as he would want me to rub up against his.
When we walked out on the mat to meet and shake, Mark noticed my package immediately, and I knew he knew. I could tell when he cracked his cute fuckin' smile at me. Like him, I wasn't hard yet, but my yellow latex molded around my pole, right down to my low-hanging balls.
We got down on our knees and into the position. Mark wrapped his arm around my back and placed his open palm across my torso, and that's when I felt his pinky finger graze the tip of my growing shaft.
The whistle blew and the distraction gave Mark the advantage to slam me to the mat. Even though neither of us said a word to each other yet, we both knew we were playing a game of who would be on top of who and fought each other with all our strength, but at the same time, trying hard not to pin the other down as to end the match too soon. We wanted this wrestle to last as long as possible.
The constant flip-flopping on top of each other helped mask our protruding manhood's that the spandex molded so perfectly and showed every wrinkle. But the time came when we needed to end the match before anybody got suspicious, so me and Mark got began to fight each other more aggressively. We really got into it too, and this anger and determination began to build up in each of us. Suddenly, the foreplay was over and all I wanted to do was win the match. I could tell that he did too as his prick had gone soft, just like mine.
Eventually, Mark pinned me to the mat with a clean finish, and won the match.
To this day, he swears on his life that he won that game fair and square, but the truth is, I decided to let him win because I wanted him to know I was ready for him to pin me down whenever he wanted.
After the competition was over, I didn't see him, and I looked too. Since it was a Saturday and his school was close by, most of the students were allowed to drive themselves to our school instead of taking a bus, so I figured he had driven himself then bailed as fast as could. I thought I might have been wrong about him, maybe we wasn't comfortable wrestling with guys off the mat.
But that didn't stop my horniness. I had a build up of juice that needed relieving.
The coach hung around after everyone had left, which I thought was odd at the time, but now, I know better. (More about him some other time). So, I couldn't take care of business in the locker room like I wanted, and I couldn't wait until I got home. I was about to fucking explode!
I went to the bathroom across campus, the furthest away from the auditorium. Being a Saturday, no students or teachers would interrupt me, not that I needed much time. I was so revved up, all I needed was a few good strokes and this load would be expelled.
I walked across the courtyard, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching and slipped into the boy's room. I remember how quiet it was. I was so used to hearing the school bell and other students outside the thin walls, it gave the place a kind of eerie feel; kinda spooky. It also amplified every little outside noise and just as I sat inside the stall and got my pants down to my ankles, I heard footsteps walk up towards the door. Someone did follow me...
