By Keith Hernandez
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**I thought Scott and I were finished. But he came back into my life and taught me who was boss by delivering a brutal anal lesson.**
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I scrolled through my facebook and glanced at the well-wishes on my engagement. There were a lot. Getting married is a big deal and I thought the time was right. I was in my 30s and most of my friends had already started families. Gina was a quality woman, rock-solid. Good family, good character. And I loved her.
But I had one nagging doubt about the relationship...and it was big one. Was I straight? Gina and I had a pretty ho-hum sex life. A lot of other things were great, but that one area was kind of vanilla. And I couldn't help thinking about my past homosexual experience with a friend of mine named Scott.
It was a couple years ago that Scott took me roughly in my own living room. He forced his cock down my throat and then bent me over and bred me like a bottom bitch. I can still hear my cries of pain and then pleasure as he forced a huge orgasm out of my ass. He turned me out.
God it was still humiliating to admit...but he did turn me out. Whenever I want, and sometimes even when I don't, memories of him using my bottom for his pleasure come flooding back, the same way he flooded my mouth and rectum with semen for well over a year. He turned me gay.
Or did he? Ever since Scott exited my life I've had to wrestle with the reality that maybe I wasn't 100% straight to begin with. I did let Scott smack my ass. I did admire his masculine physique. And his penis...it was magnificent. Long and thick with a bulbous head. Huge shaved balls hanging unevenly beneath his erection. I was enthralled when I first saw it in the hot tub. I let him take the lead in almost every aspect of our friendship.
Maybe part of me wanted him to top me. I struggled against Scott's advances, yes...but in the end, I gave it up to him.
I would tell him to not do something, but he would do it anyway... "Don't come in my mouth ok?...Don't cum up my ass...just don't breed me again ok?...Please don't make me cum...don't make me cum..I won't have anything left. Leave me something..."
But Scott took it anyway. He took what he wanted and left me very little dignity. I kept trying, I really did. Maybe that's why he ended up moving on, I don't know. He reduced me to a cum dump. But in the back of my mind, the little script I had, the one that said 'he took me by force' and 'he turned me out even though I didn't want it' was kind of slipping.
I drifted further back...to when I was just a kid, living at home, maybe 8th or 9th grade. I had discovered masturbation and watched an old porn tape or two that my folks had. Stuff from the 70s, classics. I watched the girls in those videos sucking dick. I watched them take it up the ass. I experimented. I remember when my parents would leave for the night or the weekend and being the only child left in the home I had the place all to myself. Not content to just jacking off, I wondered what it would feel like to slide something up my ass.
I would lock all the doors, and lay out towels on the floor of the TV room. I would get a jar of vaseline and start watching porn. I would be so hard, so turned on. I jacked off but kept myself from coming.
I would lay on my back and rub vaseline on my little rosebud, feeling so dirty. The sounds of the porn actors moaning and fucking filled the room and when they got to an anal scene I would intensify the rubbing on my own ass. The vaseline made my crack sticky and slick and I would poke my finger past my tight teen ring.
It felt so weird. I didn't like the feeling but I was on a porn high and I wanted more than just regular jacking off. So I pressed my digit in and out. It hurt and I didn't like the feeling from my finger. It was gross and I wished I had something to push in that wasn't my finger. I would cum, blasting jizz over my head, and when I came down I promised myself that I would never do that again.
But a couple months later I was left alone again. And I would end up spread-eagle on the floor, porn playing, jar of vaseline at my side, with a phallic shaped hairbrush handle or some other object lubed up and pressing into my crack, trying to get inside. The first time I penetrated myself fully was when my older sister came home for the summer. I found a vibrator of hers and it's tapered shape was perfect.
I remember I was on all fours, slicked up, with the taboo of porn and what I was doing pushing me to press harder. I was reaching back underneath myself, trying to fuck myself with the vibrator. I lowered myself, my shoulders pressing into the carpet and my face turned towards the TV, the images of a cock pushing into a moaning woman's ass.
The scene built and he fucked her ass harder. I pressed and kept pressing, gritting past the pain and tightness and then...the vibe slid past my pucker. I breathed deeply and took in the strange, indescribable feeling. The vibrator just sat there in my ass, unmoving, as my anus squeezed it.
I pushed it in and out a couple inches without withdrawing it. I wouldn't call it a great feeling, but it was better than my finger. But the vibe was just too big for me at that point and it was really stretching me. There was an aching, a bit of a burn, and a bit of pleasure too. I felt a sense of perverse accomplishment. What a sight I must have been, on all fours, spread out, my tight teen ass upturned with my hand pushing that hard plastic in and out of myself.
The porn scene ended as the cock on screen pumped cum on her back, and I took out the vibe, ashamed and excited. My butt felt open, different. I jacked off and came hard, again promising to never do it again. And eventually, I didn't.
My phone buzzed, snapping me out of my daydream. It was Gina. I answered and when the call was over I drifted back to my dilemma.
I was just a kid...everyone experiments. Everyone does some weird stuff. That's probably all it was. Probably. And the stuff with Scott? All the times he fucked me and degraded me and dominated me? It wasn't my fault. He forced it on me. I had to move on. Gina was the right girl for me. It was time to put away childish things and be a man. Scott took a lot of my manhood, but not all of it. That part of my life was over. My phone buzzed again...it was a text from a number I didn't recognize.
I opened the text and it said, "You've got to be kidding me."
"Who is this?" I wrote back.
There was no response for a few minutes and I almost forgot about the weird text when my phone buzzed again. I opened it up and was shocked.
There, in all its glory was a picture of a fully erect penis. And there was no mistaking who it belonged to. It was Scott. His big thick cock was jutting out from his underwear and dress pants, curving slightly upward. His pubes were neatly trimmed but not shaved with a razor. Two big veins ran along each side of the shaft like an upside down "Y" and his bulbous cut head flared dark red.
I knew that cock. I knew that cock intimately. A moment or two later a text from him arrived.
"What the fuck are you doing getting married? You know you are already married to my cock. Tell me you don't want to put this in your mouth and suck on it until I come in your mouth."
