My Sexual Autobiography part 2


Jerry was a small boy with feisty eyes and crooked teeth. He was an artist
but also fairly immature -- at fourteen or fifteen you don't like to admit
that you still collect comics and war toys, but Jerry did. I really don't
remember how Jerry and I got started having sex. I think that the first
time was in the shower together at the local pool. Only one shower had hot
water so we shared it. As we bathed, we both began getting massive
erections. For his age and size, Jerry had a huge cock, hairless, thick
and beautiful. Of course I longed to touch it and suck it. Jerry was
appraising my own erect cock in the same way. We began playing around,
"pretending" to rub against each other or "accidentally" touching each
other's cocks. Finally, I offered to soap Jerry down and he accepted. He
turned his back on me and I soaped up his shoulders and back. I let the
head of my fiercely hard cock touch his buttocks. "What was that?" he
laughed. "Uh, the soap," I said, and we both chuckled. We knew what was
going to happen, but we were too afraid to actually ask for sex. So I
soaped his ass, too, very slowly, lovingly caressing each cheek and
running my finger up his crack. I soaped the tops of his legs and then the
knees. I was eye level with his small, boyish ass, and I could see his
tight nuts dangling between his legs. I stood up and said, "Now it's time
for your front. Don't turn around." I stepped up to his warm body and
pressed against him, letting my cock nestle in the crack of his buttocks.
My chest and stomach were rubbing against his back, and I let my toes
tickle his instep. I reached under his arms and rested my head on his
shoulder. He leaned his head back against my shoulder and began caressing
 and stroking my ribs and hips with his hands. I soaped up his chest and
stomach, and then, finally, I was rewarded with his massive, sexy,
throbbing, erect penis. I soaped it up thoroughly and then dropped the
soap. I jerked him off with my right hand and squeezed his nuts with my
left. He was squeezing and caressing my ass. We stood like that for
awhile, the hot water from the shower blurring our vision, then he
murmured something to me.
"What?" I said, stepping away from him, afraid he was rejecting me.
Jerry seized his cock and stroked it very lazily, looking into my eyes. "I
said, I think you better pick up the soap."
I couldn't believe it -- it was such a stereotypically "gay" situation
that I had to grin. "Sure," I said, taking a step forward right next to
him. I bent over and pressed my hands against the wall.
He gently slid a finger into my ass and rubbed my nuts with his other
hand. It felt so good. After less than a minute of this he easily slid his
cock into my ass. I don't know why it was so easy and so painless the
first time. Every account I have read of first-time anal sex involves pain
and sometimes blood, but there was none of that. There was just the rigid
heat of his cock in my tight young ass.
I'm getting an erection just writing about this. I consider my
relationship with Jerry to be my first and only genuine homosexual
relationship, as opposed to the series of youthful experiments and shy
one-time-only sexual events. It's the only gay experience that I still
fantasize about almost regularly, although I have loads of gay fantasies
about things that haven't happened to me.
Anyway, he didn't cum in my ass but he did fuck me for about ten minutes,
then pulled out. This was the first and last time any man would ever fuck
my ass, so it has definitely been a fantasy fixation since then. We both
washed his cock off and then I sucked him off until he filled my mouth
with his semen. It was tasteless and thick, and I spat it out, but I loved
sucking him off. He then did the same to me, but he took my cock out of
his mouth as I was ejaculating and took my sperm on his face and neck,
which was immediately washed away by the shower. We got dressed and
without mentioning the incident, we left the public pool.
Some people might not consider this relationship a "real" gay
relationship, because both Jerry and I acted straight, considered
ourselves straight, and actually discussed the girls we'd like to have sex
with. There were even times when we'd be jerking each other off in bed and
talking about women we'd like to fuck. Maybe it was denial, maybe it was
fantasy fulfillment -- I don't know. I just know that I enjoyed it.
Nonetheless, at school and at play I still joined
in the homophobia and fag-bashing. I didn't consider myself gay.
Jerry and I had a lot of great sex together. Let me detail a few
occasions. We really liked to 69 so we did that frequently. We were only
fifteen so we didn't have any privacy -- we'd have to initiate sex when
nobody was home or when we could sneak it in without getting caught. And
we never did get caught. We had a mutual friend who was a very devout
Christian and an obsessive musician. Jerry and I actually sucked each
other's cocks while this Christian boy was not ten feet away from us,
concentrating on a song he was writing. We didn't have orgasms but we were
very turned on by this daring exhibitionism. Jerry went to take a shower
and I said I was going to take a piss. Of course I got in the shower with
him and we took turns sucking each other off. There were two times I
 remember when Jerry's mom was in the house and we had sex. Once, he was
kneeling in front of me jerking me off and I came all over his face and
hands. We quickly cleaned up and went down to breakfast. The other time,
we were in the shower together and I didn't feel like sucking his cock, so
he jacked off right in front of me. Before he came, I knelt down in front
of him and helped him masturbate, and finally he ejaculated onto my face
and shoulders. I washed off and presented my cock to him, but he didn't
want to mess with it.
In fact, that's how our relationship finally ended. Jerry just grew 
disinterested in the whole situation, particularly when he got a
girlfriend with whom he was, I think, sexually active. The last time we
had sex was in my
bedroom while we were waiting for his mom to pick him up from my house. I had
just sucked his cock and swallowed his sperm. He was sucking me off, very
slowly and gently, no teeth and plenty of tongue. Jerry was an excellent
cocksucker. As I ejaculated into his mouth, he threw up all over my bare
cock and my pants. (We were both fully dressed and had only taken our
cocks out of our zippers.) We were both disgusted and I cleaned the
combination of sperm and vomit off my pants with a sense of resignation.
After that, Jerry and I never had sex again. We masturbated in front of
each other a couple of times, but we never touched each other. I think
that Jerry was having sex with me to get his rocks off, but once he got a
"real" source for sex -- a woman -- he left me alone. I forgot about Jerry
for awhile when I first started dating women, but I think that if he were
to offer himself to me right now, so many years after this happened, I
would accept and take him to bed.
So when I was fifteen, I was having a lot of gay sex with my friend Jerry.
At the same time, I was having sex with the family dog.
Most of you are probably saying "Gross!" right now, but read on. Yes,
you'll probably think it's disgusting, and I can understand how you would.
In fact, before I tried it, I thought it was nasty too. It probably is.
But let me tell you about it anyway.
We had two dogs -- a collie/Black Lab combination and a German
Shepherd/Black Lab combination. In other words, two mutts. The collie/lab
was old and female; the shepherd/lab was young and male. I had always
thought the young male dog's cock was fascinating. I'd touched it a few
times, and wondered about that huge knot at the base. As I got bolder, I'd
masturbate the dog and myself at the same time, watching in awe as he
would shoot copious amounts of dog cum onto the carpet. Of course, I'd
have to clean up both his cum and mine. He enjoyed licking up the puddles
of both human and dog sperm. Seems that dogs really will eat anything.
I never thought of letting the young male dog fuck my ass until two things
happened. The first was when I let Jerry fuck my ass. The second was when
I came home from school and found the young male dog desperately trying to
fuck another young male dog in our backyard. For some reason, this excited
me enormously and I separated them and took my dog inside. I stripped
naked and let him lick my asshole and rapidly growing cock. Finally, I got
down on all fours and invited him to mount me. He licked my asshole very
thoroughly for a few minutes. He stuck his dog tongue very far into my ass
-- it was the best reaming I've ever had. The dog lost interest and moved
away. I got frustrated and crawled over to him. I pulled his forelegs up
over my shoulders and then reached between my legs to jerk him off. His
hips started to twitch of their own volition, and then I felt his sharp,
thin dog cock poking against my buttocks. I reached back and guided his
cock to my asshole, and without any sort of prelude he shoved it in,
pounding my asshole with a painful intensity.
Jerry's cock was bigger than the dog's, but the ferocity and speed of my
dog's attack made it hurt. Yes, it hurt, and it hurt a lot, but I am here
to tell you that it felt great, and I would do it again if given the
chance. Here I was on my hands and knees with this big, black,
shepherd/lab mix riding my back, fucking my ass ferociously, digging his
paws into my shoulders. I was moaning and grunting with pain, pleasure,
excitement and fear all at once. It seemed like about ten minutes, but it
was actually about ninety seconds after he started when he abruptly pulled
out and flopped down on the carpet to lick his dick. I also sank to the
floor and immediately masturbated to an orgasm. As the dog licked up my
semen, I noticed that his cock was still erect but sliding back into its
sheath. I wanted him to do it again, but my asshole hurt. Thus concluded
my first sex act with an animal.
There were many successful sessions with my dog and even once with a
neighborhood dog, an Irish setter, that wandered into our garage. I closed
the garage doors and slid my shorts to my ankles. This dog knew what to do
and immediately mounted me. I guided his cock by hand to my asshole and it
slid in effortlessly. In about a minute the knot at the base of his cock
was in my asshole too, expanding it tremendously. I was delirious with
ecstacy. As the setter began to fill my asshole with dog sperm, I began to
ejaculate onto the cold, oily garage floor. He pulled his cock out before
he was finished coming, and I turned around to let him ejaculate into my
mouth. I held his ribs and took his cock into my mouth, and he continued
to cum. I swallowed it because there was so much. It didn't taste very
good. I guess he didn't like me to suck him because he snapped at me and I
let him go. I opened the garage door and let him out, then ran upstairs so
I could shit out all the dog sperm in my asshole. I brushed my teeth to
get rid of the taste. Then I went back downstairs to look for my dog so I
could get fucked again.
For about two years I let my dog fuck me and I sucked him off when I
could. This activity continued into the years when I began dating girls,
which began when I was fifteen.
I met a seventeen-year-old named Grace when I was fifteen. We dated for
two weeks without ever kissing, and then after I kissed her for the first
time, you couldn't pull us apart. It was a very strange relationship --
seventeen-year-old girls don't normally date fifteen-year-old boys, for
one thing. It's usually the other way around. She was beautiful and
intelligent and kept me laughing all the time. I thought she was great.
She even had her own car, a 1966 Mustang. No kidding. Of course, the whole
time I was dating her I was also having sex with Jerry and letting my dog
fuck me, so I wasn't putting any sexual pressure on her because I was
having plenty of sex elsewhere.
As it turned out, she was far more hung up on me than I was on her. But
that's another story.
The second woman I dated, and the first woman I ever truly loved, was
Sharon. She was a natural blond, a born flirt, and the best kisser I have
ever known. I thought it was a miracle, a hallucination or a practical
joke when she kissed me at a mutual friend's party. Why would she want me?
I thought. For three months we were very happy together. Her parents were
very cool about it -- one time her dad actually caught us on the living
room floor. My shirt was off and she'd unbuttoned my pants. She was
sitting on top of me, her own shirt unbuttoned and her hair all messed up.
Her dad stood behind us, but didn't turn on the lights. I guess he
couldn't really see what was going on, but I think he knew. He said,
"Sharon?" She replied, "I know, Daddy. I'll turn off all the lights and
lock the doors when he leaves. He's not going anywhere, right now." I
swear that this is exactly what she said. Her dad replied, "All right,
honey. Be good. Good night." I have always envied the relationship that
Sharon has with her dad. How could he be so calm about his daughter
attacking a helpless sixteen-year-old like that?
That summer I also met a guy named Mike. Mike was gay, and told me so on
the third day I knew him. He really wanted to get me in bed, but I didn't
want to
fuck him because he seemed so emotional and dangerous. He was a fat,
bug-eyed guy who was quite passive in bed. He told me that all I would
have to do was fuck his ass or let him suck me off, and I could pretend it
was a girl, but I couldn't. Mike definitely had problems and I didn't want
to get involved with them. Mike was also unattractive and I couldn't deal
with that. If it had been Jerry who'd wanted me to fuck his ass or 69 with
him, I would have immediately said yes. But not Mike. Unfortunately for
me, Mike was a real sicko and he was also best friends with my ex, Grace.
At this point it had become clear that Grace was obsessed with me. I have
no evidence of this, but I can easily imagine Grace and Mike sitting
around fantasizing about controlling me. Maybe I'm just paranoid. But Mike
and Grace cooked up a fascinating campaign of disinformation about Sharon
when they found out how much I loved her. It was a bad situation, and it
was made worse when Mike almost killed me in a car crash. After that, I
would not speak to him. He threatened to kill himself many times, but I
never believed it. Even if he had killed himself, was it really my
responsibility? He was sick and I didn't want anything to do with him.
Later, he joined the Marines and saw active combat service (I won't tell
you where). The experience of combat pushed him over the edge, and as far
as I know, he's a total alcoholic psychopath by now. I'm glad that I know
a lot of gay people who are relatively normal. Mike was definitely a bad
example of mental health.
Of course, I had my share of psychopathic activity this summer when I
tried to kill Grace. A lot of my friends were in the park together, and I
was hanging out with them. Grace and some other people showed up, and I
moved away from the group so I could get away from Grace. She basically
pounced on me, trying to kiss me and touch me, and without thinking I
grabbed her neck and squeezed. She looked frightened and then angry, and
she kicked me in the stomach. I think I deserved it. We separated and
glared at each other. She cussed me for awhile and then stomped away. It
was the last I spoke to her for a very long time. Eventually we
reconciled, but again that's another story.
Anyway, Sharon and I had a fantastic summer together. Unfortunately, she
broke up with me as soon as school started, and for most of the school
year I was quite fucked-up about it. I was a full of rage and pain, and
nobody could help me. I had no idea why she broke up with me. It didn't
make things any better when she started dating one of my best friends and
sleeping with him as well. (It wasn't considered evil or immoral for girls
to sleep with their boyfriends back then -just unusual. All of us, male
and female, wanted to do it, but we were afraid to because of the
conservative atmosphere. Plus, it was a big city and not many of us could
drive, so there weren't very many opportunities to have sex anyway.)
Nonetheless, Sharon will always occupy a place in my mind as the first
woman I ever truly, romantically loved. I still love her to this day and
would do anything for her.
After Sharon I dated a woman named Liz. Liz was a mystically-beautiful
hippie girl. She was perpetually bored, even during our lame attempts at
sex. She would never touch me but permitted me to touch her as much as I
liked. So I ended up performing a lot of oral sex on her and that was
about it. I speak of this relationship in brief and clinical terms because
it was a brief and clinical relationship. It certainly did not have the
puppy-love feeling of my relationship with Sharon or the illicit sexual
feelings of my relationship with Jerry. It ended uneventfully.
When I was seventeen I began dating a sixteen-year-old woman named
Rebecca. She was a sexually experienced, wild, punk-rock, drug-taking,
ass-kicking, cock-sucking, leather-wearing woman. She had very short,
bleached-blond hair, ice-blue eyes, a cute nose, freckles, very large
breasts, a soft belly and ass, a posture with attitude and dozens of heavy
rings on her fingers. She really enjoyed telling stories about kicking
people's asses and her drug experiences. Her favorite tale was the one
about beating up the most popular girl in school, using soccer cleats and
class rings. She was a real bad-ass. She was the one who took my
heterosexual virginity -- she was the first woman I really had great sex
and orgasms with.
Rebecca was unbelievable. She would squeeze my head between her thighs as
I was eating her pussy and pull my hair with her hands. She'd demand that
I spank her
when I was fucking her doggy style. She loved to suck my cock and always
drank my sperm down, squeezing my balls and milking my cock for as much
sperm as she could get. She loved to lick and suck my ass -- she enjoyed
sticking two or three fingers in my ass while she sucked my cock. (She did
not enjoy anal sex.) Rebecca liked it when I told her about the times that
I sucked cocks, and she really got turned on when I told her that I had
been fucked in the ass by another boy. She had never had a lesbian
relationship but told me that she'd often fantasized about other women. We
liked to talk about swapping with straight, gay or bi couples, but we
never did. We fucked everywhere we could. We fucked in every room of her
house, even on her mom's bed. Once, she was in the bathroom with one leg
up on the sink, inserting a tampon. I came in the bathroom naked and
fucked her while she had the tampon in. I inserted only the glans of my
penis and moved it in and out rapidly, masturbating her at the same time.
She told me that when she took the tampon out later it was covered with
blood on one end and sperm on the other. We fucked on the roof once while
a party was going on in the house underneath us. A most memorable occasion
was the time that I dropped her off at her house late at night. We both
had to pee and she couldn't find her keys. Finally, I just took my
half-erect cock out of my pants and urinated right there in front of her.
This turned her on and she dropped to her knees as I was pissing, holding
my cock with one hand and catching my piss with her other. When I was
finished she wiped her hands on the lawn and then sucked my cock until I
came into her mouth. Then she shoved her jeans down to her ankles and
pissed right there on her front doorstep. I watched excitedly, then as
soon as she was done I knelt, licked the piss off her pubic hair and slid
my tongue into her soaking wet pussy. She stood up, bent over and leaned
against the house, thrusting her ass out at me. I sucked her pussy and ass
for a long time, manipulating her clitoris with my fingers until she came.
She pulled her pants up quickly and after a brief search for her keys and
a quick, cum-soaked kiss goodbye, let herself into her house. I went home
and of course masturbated. Later that week she showed me the panties she'd
worn that night -- soaked with piss and her cum. It excited us so much
that we fucked again, right there.
The way we started our relationship was weird. There was a big punk rock
show in a city about an hour from ours. I barely knew Rebecca at this
time. A bunch of kids went to this show, and I wasn't even in the same car
as her. After the show about seven of us went to get a hotel room. Rebecca
slept on the floor and I slept on one of the two beds. As we were trying
to sleep, I dropped my hand over the edge of the bed to her body. I
touched her face lightly, and she took my hand and began to suck on my
fingers. I got an erection almost immediately. I let my hand drift away
from her mouth down to her breasts, smooth stomach and abdomen. I rubbed
her nipples through her t-shirt and gently stroked the light fuzzy hair on
her belly. I was so nervous -- I almost didn't dare to do it -- but I
somehow got up the nerve to touch her pubic mound. When her hips rose to
meet my touch, I knew that I was OK. I slid my hand under her shorts and
panties and began to rub her thick clitoris. Her hips rocked and bucked to
meet my hand, and soon she had an orgasm. I stuck two fingers inside of
her, pulled them out and tasted her cum, then I did the same for her. She
eagerly licked her cum off my fingers and then sucked my fingers heavily,
as if she was sucking my cock. Finally I had to draw my hand back up to
the bed because we had to get some sleep. The next morning, she and I
wordlessly went to the nearby breakfast restaurant. We talked about it and
she was very enthusiastic. She said she'd always liked me, found me cute
and wanted me sexually, and this puzzled and excited me, for reasons that
I will explain later. Thus began our passionate, thrilling, roughhouse,
hardcore sexual relationship.
A couple things I'll mention: Rebecca's breasts were so large that they
caused back problems. At age eighteen, she had to have breast reduction
surgery. Also, one of our biggest, favorite fantasies that we shared was
that we were really brother and sister, committing frequent and unabashed
incest. This turned Rebecca on a lot (as well as me) and throughout
several sexual encounters we called each other "sister" and "brother".
Later, after we broke up and continued to call each other that, nobody
else got it.
At this point I should explain why I found it so miraculous that girls
actually liked me -- and even wanted to have sex with me. All throughout
middle school and high school, even when I was having frequent sex with
boys, I wanted to at least
date a girl. To me, boys and girls were very different, and my sexual
urges for boys had nothing to do with my romantic feelings for girls.
Nowadays I know that sex is sex and romance is romance no matter who you
feel it for, but then I didn't know better. Sex was something I enjoyed
with my male friends, romance was something I saved for girls. Yet no girl
was interested in me romantically or otherwise. This included most of high
school.
During my junior year, I quit caring about girls liking me, mostly as a
result of meeting two great people who I am still very close to today.
Their names are Andre and David, and I'll talk about them at length soon.
For now, suffice it to say that they convinced me that I didn't need some
girl to fawn over me in order for me to be a good person. This wasn't some
kind of elaborate homosexual recruitment -- this was just two good friends
building up my self-esteem.
The funny thing was, almost the very same week that I decided not to spend
my time wishing that some girl would want me, it happened, and it happened
in such volume that I couldn't deal with it. I began dating Rebecca, and
while I was dating her I knew about, suspected or heard of at least seven
other girls who wanted to date me. It was very frustrating but quite good
for my ego, let me tell you. By the time I left high school I considered
myself to be quite a ladies' man.

to be continued in part three


