Billie's Sore Ass: Sexual Fraternity Hazing
[Readers, be assured all events take place between men who are 18 and older. There are no minors or Appalachian miners depicted here. Most are college guys who range from 18 to 32 years old. A few older men do appear towards the end of the story to add a mature balance. All characters in this story are based on real people. If you recognize yourself please sign yourself in under the comments section.]
Of course I am gay, just look at me; tall and slender, long bleached blond surfer boy hair, a redone bobbed nose, a bit of dental cosmetics to cure an uneven saw toothed smile and an earring in my right ear. I love to wear tight spandex muscle t-shirts with the 'V' neckline as if I had tits. I do have nice pecs and a great ass if I must say so. I wear long tight pants that show off my legs and ass. Baby, I can talk the gay lingo with those important pauses and inflections when I want too without resorting to the limp wrist. You know what I mean?
My name is Billy Bush, no I'm not that guy on TV who got fired for just listening to some crude presidential pussy talk. Shit, it wasn't even his fault. My moniker is just a common name.
I grew up in San Diego, my Mom raised me. My Dad went off surfing with a boyfriend when I was two years old and never came back. I don't mean he drowned, I mean he took off with his gay lover. With the exception of few postcards from Brazil years ago, I don't know if he is alive or dead.
My mom started me in school a bit late because of my birth date, so I was always a little older than the other kids. My grandfather, Grandpa, my Mom's Dad, dyed to have me int to private church school for high school. Gramps always referred to my Dad as 'a fucking faggot run off.' If gayness is an inherited gene I guess that's where I got it from.
Sensing I'd be bullied, Grandpa sent me to Jo-Lu's Karatee Academy (I don't know why there is an extra 'e' in Karate but Jo-Lu didn't speak much English). I studied under Jo-Lu for 4 years until I learned how to protect myself.
When Winston Kedrow started picking on me that summer I gave him a straight arm that broke his ugly nose. After that the bullies left me alone although I thought some of the rougher guys were attractive. Gramps had to pay off the Kedrow family to keep it quiet.
I had done did my senior career paper on communication. I particularly wanted become a TV weatherman. I fell in love with Don Segal, the San Diego Weatherman. He was the cutest mustached guy I'd ever seen, with his tight pants and shapely ass. God I must have masturbated every night to his 11:15 weather report on WSWB, so close to the screen I blipped him in the face with cum more than once. My mother would ask why the screen was so smudged, I just rolled my eyes.
One of that old gang was a guy named Rod Hartower. I thought he was very sexy. He was often with his 'daah' cheerleader back then. He was tall, big boned, curly brown hair and a slanted smile where he'd stick his cigarette when it wasn't behind his ear, sort of looked like a young Nick Nolte. By now we were all over 18 and I was working as a fry cook in that last summer at the McDonald's when he spotted me. Oh, he certainly remembered me. He didn't order anything, he just sat for a while . When I had my break I went to the bathroom. He followed me in. Asked me nicely,
"Do you remember me?"
Oh yeah, you used to run with that gang of bullies"
"Yeah, that was a long time ago."
"Could I ask you a favor, your gay aren't you?"
"So what?"
"Would you please to blow me."
"What about your girlfriend? Why don't you ask her?"
"I did. She's a lousy cock sucker, guys are the best,"
Sure I blew him. He was adorable and had a great 6 inch thick cock even though it smelled like a cigarette. But I wasn't up to swallowing his secret sauce just yet. I don't swallow on first dates. I kind of caught it in my cheek and let in dribble out afterwards into the sink. Just the same he left with a big smile on his face and a wet spot on his tight jeans.
Rod returned a bunch more times, He'd say,
"Baby, (he always called me that) I need it now, right now."
He was always very horny. If his girlfriend was away or if he just wanted my lips on his cock he'd show up, nightly. It was as if my blow jobs were therapeutic. At a certain point the manager figured out what was going on and barred him from coming in when I was doing the late night shift.
This required a change of plans. Rod would show up at closing time and park his old Ford on the far end of the parking lot where I'd meet him. Then he'd drive us to a secluded dark street where he would unfurl his gorgeous cut cock, that sprouted from a mountain of bushy blond hair. He'd lean back and he'd get erect almost instantly and I'd get to work. After he'd cum we'd both smoke a cigarette together and he would play with my hair. I was on cloud nine. That was, until he decided to share me with his cousin.
His cousin was in his mid 20's, he'd just finished a tour of three years in the Navy. According to him the Navy was one big boat of gay sailors. He described the living quarters on the cruiser he was stationed on as a gay sex club. Everyone was fucking ass and blowing each other. No wonder so many of our Navy ships crash into other boats at sea.
Cousin Harold was visiting for two weeks with Rod's family. Rod obviously told him about me and Hal insisted on coming with Rod. I was totally surprised but I was so in love with Rod that I couldn't refuse him anything. I had such a strong crush on him. Hal sat in the back seat observing me as I blew Rod. This time Rod didn't show me any affection and that hurt. He switched seats with Hal so I could work my magic on Hal.
Hal moved up front and said to me as he pulled down his pants,
"Listen you queer fagot. My dick is very sensitive. You gotta go real easy on it."
When I looked at what I was supposed to service I understood something was wrong. His foreskin was attached high up at the top of the shaft so in order to get to the head you had to push the foreskin back but it didn't budge. When I tried it with my hand he screamed. I tried again with my tongue and that lubed it a bit but after about a minute he pushed me away.
"Ok faggot, let me help you some."
He began to masturbate by holding the shaft of his small, maybe it was a three inch er at the base and working up and down without disturbing the foreskin. When he was ready he grabbed my head and shoved it into my mouth. Rod from the back seat shouted, "Swallow it you queer," which hurt me. Hal said,
"Can I jerk you off Billie? In the Navy we say one good hand deserves another."
"I'm ok, but thanks anyway."
That was the last time I saw either of them. I left to start college the week after.