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I warn my beloved readers, incurable wankers, that this story does not contain one but more adventures. Therefore, try not to come to the first one right away but keep reading, at least as long as you can resist.
My mother died when I was little and my father, years later, remarried with a good-looking but deeply false and mean, especially to me. So, talking to her friends, she learned that I liked men and that they all had to be on their guard to prevent me from involving their husbands.
I was only 15 years old and that I liked men was true, but I had never had sex with anyone, not even my friends. In fact, I was trying to keep this secret from them, but many had understood it anyway and had spread the word.
Of course she immediately told my father who, one day, took me aside and asked me if it was true. I confess it only to you, but my father was also among my fantasies. Anyway, I wanted to be honest with him and hoped for his understanding. Instead, instigated by his dear little wife, he resolved to kick me out of the house because I was the disgrace of the family.
My disappointment was great and I found myself, from one day to the next, in the middle of the street. Today I know that I could have reported him for child neglect but then I felt guilty. I thought I was a wretch and I deserved that conviction. It was winter and I didn't know where to go. I huddled in the ravine of a wall along a road and started crying, feeling completely lost and with no future. All because of a sexuality that I felt perhaps from birth and that, until then, I had not even enjoyed. I wanted to die. A distinguished gentleman, in his sixties, approached me.
"What are you doing here sexting. You'll catch pneumonia. Go home."
"I don't have a home," I told him in tears.
"What do you mean, you don't have a home? Did you run away?"
"No, I just don't have one." I didn't want to tell him my business, also because I was ashamed of it. He understood that it wasn't appropriate to go into it.
"All right, then come to my house tonight. You'll stay warm. Then tomorrow we'll see."
I looked at him feeling that I didn't deserve that gesture of charity and tried to refuse, but without too much conviction, so much so that, in the end, I accepted and got into his car. He had a beautiful house. It was an elegant, well-kept cottage. He had some antique furniture, and you could tell he was a wealthy person. He showed up. His name was Pasquale and he was a bachelor and he would have loved to have children but life had not given him any. He asked me how old I was.
"My name is Walter and I'm 18." I lied shamelessly about my age, also because I've always been younger than I am. He believed it or pretended to believe it.
He was very kind to me and was happy because, he told me, at least that night he would have company, he could talk to someone. He prepared a delicious dinner, proving to be a good cook, and we ate in a room with a burning fireplace. He also put a silver candelabra on the table, saying he wanted to treat the guests well. So, by candlelight, we talked about this and that: about his life, about mine (without overdoing it). I felt like I was in a dream, perhaps also because of the wine you drank without paying too much attention to it.
Afterwards we sat on the sofa, in front of the fire and he offered me some sambuca. I confessed to him that, I don't know why, that was the only liqueur that, even if I drank little, got me drunk. He insisted and I had two shots of it. I'm not saying I was dizzy, but it really was like I was in the clouds. Everything was so beautiful.
I heard myself confess everything to him and my voice broke out in pain. He put his arm on my shoulders to console me and I leaned my head back on him, like the understanding father I didn't have or, given the age difference, like a grandfather. He caressed me tenderly for a while, then I lifted my head and we looked at each other intensely. There was no need for words and, instinctively, we joined our lips in a chaste kiss. We looked at each other again with bewilderment, at least on my part, and then it was the turn of a very long passionate kiss.
For the first time I received a man's tongue in my mouth and it was shocking. We were overwhelmed with desire for each other. More furious kisses followed. As his hands ran all over my body, mine (I can't explain why) went straight to his flap and I felt, under the cloth, the hardness of his cock. That's when he reached up to my little ass to knead it hard. Maybe it was the alcohol I had drunk, but I felt like I was protected by him but also willing to submit to his (and my) desires.
When the excitement had reached its peak and he was certain of my condescension, he lifted me up in his strong arms and took me, like a bride on a thalamus, into the bedroom, on the large double bed. She gently disposed herself to undress me of my clothes, and then of hers, as she looked at me with eyes full of admiration and lust at the same time.
He had an exceptional physique, despite his age. Massive, with broad shoulders and a bulging neck, a large chest covered with fur. His arms and legs were also muscular and hairy. He was the incarnation of my lone jerk-off man.
He stood over me and gave me another deep kiss. Afterwards I went to lick his neck, his ears (I discovered that he liked it very much), his armpits smelling of sweat and deodorant. That new taste unleashed my hormones. Then it was he who, after a little bit, went down to lick my nipples and areolas, my hips and down to the balls. He slipped his wide, rough, viscous tongue over my stiff little dick. I couldn't stand it, and I cum on my belly.
He picked some up with two fingers and put them in my mouth. I'd never tasted sperm before, not even my own. I liked it. It was sweet. He got up to ride on my face. He ordered me to lick his big hairy sack of balls. I did it with commitment and devotion, as he deserved, indifferent to the many hairs I had to swallow. I felt him getting more and more excited until he pulled back a bit and pointed the chapel at my mouth. It was all new to me, but instinctively I opened my lips and let it in. Just a little touch of my tongue and, with a guttural scream, he dumped a large amount of cream into me, which I swallowed without thinking too much about it. It was good, different from mine, saltier and thicker, but I liked hers too.
I stayed at her house for a week, during which she always made me drink plenty of cum (after sambuca, of course). But I was unhappy, I wanted more. I wanted him to deflower my ass, but he never wanted to do that. He liked it that way.
In the meantime, I was looking for some kind of job that would make me independent, but it had to be absolutely black because I couldn't show my identity card. A lot of people wouldn't even ask me for it, and if they did, I'd leave.
Since I'm a handsome guy, I thought I'd go to some photographer to model. I found one. A handsome man in his forties, very pleasant, with two big sideburns that reached his chin, hairy (I love hairy men). He had a spirit and artistic and a bit crazy ways of doing things. He took a few pictures of me and, every now and then, he would touch the package as if to make it better. He liked me, not just as a subject, I understood him. Suddenly he came up to me, as if to fix my position. Instead, he held me tight and kissed me impetuously. I didn't back down. So I ended up on his bed, where he grabbed me hard and finally took my virginity, with immense pleasure both his and mine. He filled my ass with cum. He was fiery and impetuous, worthy of his artistic streak.
I was sexting and that man fascinated me, as well as fucking me in a fabulous way. So I left Pasquale and moved in with Angelo (that was the photographer's name). I came to tell him the truth about my age, but he didn't care. He said they were mental limitations of the well-meaning. In short, we fucked like hedgehogs for three years, then he found another sexting and we broke up, while still living with him.
My modeling career didn't take off, or at least it didn't reach stratospheric compensations, so I had to keep on doing other occasional jobs too: as a dog sitter I walked dogs or as a factotum in a gay disco during the summer.
It was just last summer. Helping out the bartender, I learned how to make cocktails and had some success with the customers, making some too. But my attention turned immediately to a bouncer. Roberto was an exceptionally virile 38-year-old male. It's useless to describe the physique, worthy of the work he did. He was frightening both for the size and for the hardness of his eyes, which seemed to always want to beat the shit out of you. He was always very kind to me. A slap from him would make me bounce from one wall to the other. I was dying to have him on me (or rather, inside).
One afternoon, the owners made me go to the club to help unload a truckload of beer. It was just me and him, and the driver of the truck just put the crates down in front of the warehouse door and left. It was a beastly effort, but at the same time as I was carrying one in, he was carrying six, two at a time. He was an animal of fatigue. We got there relatively quickly and, in the end, we were completely sweaty. Being near him, his smell, instead of disgusting me, turned me on like crazy.
I went mad, in fact. He had sat down to rest and I, as if nothing had happened, approached him and gave him a lick on the forehead to taste his sweat.
"What are you doing?" he said in a jiffy.
"Nothing. I just wanted to dry you off."
"Well, do you lick me?"
"It just came to me on instinct. It was to do you a favor." He looked at me grimly, but I wasn't afraid of his reaction. I knew him well. He wouldn't hurt me.
"You didn't do it for your own pleasure, did you?" He got it right.
"Yes, maybe, I admit it," I said. I was ashamed.
"Fatty, I'm not taking it easy. I know you're a faggot, but you know I'm straight and married."
"Yeah. Forgive me" I said in a tone of regret.
"You're forgiven. Come here." I walked up to him and he graced me with life. Sitting there, we were face to face. "But I have to admit, you're quite a piece of work. Almost..."
"Almost what?"
He put me in front of him, between his open legs, and kissed me impetuously. His rough tongue immediately took over mine. I melted like plastic in the sun in his strong arms, which had to support me. I leaned (casually) with both hands on her package. When it came off, a thread of saliva connected our lips. We looked into each other's eyes then, both of us, lowered our gaze to my hands, to where they were resting. I could feel, under the cloth, the beast waking up.
"Fuck. You're having an effect on me," he admitted. "How are you with the mouthpieces?"
He put his hand on my head and forced me to kneel down between his big thighs. He unbuttoned his belt, button, zip. He stood up just enough to pull down his jeans and boxer shorts and he covered me in front of a wonderful cock, almost completely stiff and all covered with purple veins.
I immediately took it in my mouth and began to unbutton it properly. She gave me the rhythm with her hand on my head and blew from the nostrils and teeth. He loved it.
"Fucking... Fuck... You're good, you little cum sucker boy... Aaahhhh... yeah... You wanna swallow my cum, bitch? No, I changed my mind." He took it out of my mouth and said, "Sit down over here. I really want to try to fuck an asshole."
I took off the suit that I had on and I straddled his legs. I touched it to point it at the hole and dropped it on him, impaling myself to the fur. I bit my lips not to scream, but I couldn't hold back a high-pitched yelp. The cock was big and the pain was strong, but it only lasted a moment. Then, it was just pure pleasure. He grabbed me by the hips and made me go up and down at will, like I was a rubber doll. He grunted and grunted.
"Bitch of a whore. What a pussy you got!"
He went on like that for at least five minutes, then he got up and with incredible strength, he made me jump on his marble-hard, column-sized cock. I held myself with my arms around his stiff neck and my legs wrapped around his hips. Finally, he leaned my back against the wall and, always holding me up, he hit me with a gragnola of thrusts that broke me mercilessly, just for his pleasure. He was nailing me to the wall. I was yelping like a wounded bitch and it excited him even more. And he'd go to town on my ass. I had the hole completely ripped out.
"Here, bitch, I'm gonna cum in you... I'm coming, veng...oooo."
A roar at the first beat followed by a series of grunts all through the orgasm. It was a thick, sticky sperm enema. He let go by squeezing me against the wall and resting my sweaty forehead. Just enough time to get my breathing and heartbeat back to normal. With a snap, the dick slipped out of me and only then did it let me put my feet back on the ground, while a whitish rivulet slid down my leg. My hole was irritated and so open that I could feel the air go into it.
"Wow! That's the first time I've ever fucked a guy and, I gotta say, not bad. It was one of the biggest cumshots of my life. We'll have to do it again, but don't get your hopes up. I love my wife."
"I don't ask for anything better. You're gonna be my buttadentro all summer, then whoever's seen himself has seen himself. Okay?"
We had a laugh and that was it. Everybody understood it, from the other employees to the customers. So much for jealous fags. But summer's over. He went to work I don't know where and I found a part-time salesman's job at a mall.
Demetrio, a 50-year-old Neapolitan security guard, works at the same mall. It's a hell of a bono. Not very tall, but he's well-placed. Perfect body, very hairy. Gridrid at the temples and a rather thick lace beard. Wide shoulders and big hands. Despite his tough-guy face, which he knows how to pull out when needed, he is always smiling and makes you laugh out loud when, with the classic Neapolitan way of doing it, he pulls down comments and colorful arrows, often pushed. He is everyone's friend and everyone is his friend. How can you not be friends with a guy like that?
I like him a lot. In uniform he's a hottie, especially when, as is his habit, every now and then you touch the package, which looks very well stocked. Right from the start, he's taken a special liking to me, almost like a mascot. He mocks me because I have a slender physique, more suitable for making women laugh than for making them enjoy (and he did not know how far from me this idea is). Then, however, he puts his arm on my shoulders and holds me close saying that he loves me like a son.
I understand the wife who, to a guy like that, can't rely on fidelity. In fact, he's always surrounded by women (center employees and customers) who enjoy his jokes and, more or less openly, either as a joke or seriously, they're all over him. I used to watch him and gnaw at him. When in doubt, she wanted the separation and he had recently moved to live alone in a small two room apartment.
One day, in a moment of low turnout, he approached me and wanted me to follow him to the warehouse. He wanted to talk to me. I thought it was another one of his jokes.
"Dear Walter - he started - you know that I laugh and joke with everyone and that women would all want my cock (and he squeezed it, as usual). You, however, are my witness that I have never cuckolded my wife, at least since you have known me".
"Yes, that's true. At least, as far as I know, I've never seen you go further with anyone."
"Exactly. But she doesn't trust me, so she wants a divorce."
"Are you asking me to testify for you?"
"No, no, I'm not asking you to get involved in this. It's just... it's... well, you know, I've been separated for three months now and... I gotta admit, I miss the rat. But I don't want to have to deal with another woman, a little so as not to give her evidence in her favour and a little so as not to deceive another woman who maybe suckers me".
"All right, but what can I do for you?"
"Well... I know you're a homosexual."
"And how do you know that? Who says?" I said worried.
"I am, but you know what women are like. They have like a sixth sense and they get it. But don't worry, nobody made fun of you. You're so cute, they all love you."
"I thought you couldn't tell."
"Don't get demoralized. If you're convinced of your nature, the important thing is that you live it peacefully."
"Yes, of course... but I still don't understand. What do I have to do with your situation?"
"I live alone in a house that I don't know if I'll ever be able to fix up. It's not like... you could come over and help me... test the bed?"
I got caught off guard. I didn't know whether to laugh at his way of proposing or to be happy about that unexpected development. In fact, we both laughed.
"I mean, you're asking me to put you through three months of abstinence? I should be offended...".
"No, no, no, please, I don't mean to offend you. I'm asking because, you know, somehow... I don't know how to tell you this... I like you, I've always liked you, and even though I've never been with a man, I think I could do it with you."
"Let me finish. "I should be offended, but I'm more than glad. "I've always liked you, too, and you don't know how many times I've jerked off thinking about you. I just wish it wasn't just a rash for you. Maybe it's too much to ask, but I'd like you to put some feeling into it. Even if it's just for once."
"Sure. I didn't mean to use you as a savage. At least not the first time."
"What? Do you think we'll do it other times?" My heart was in my throat.
"Well, hopefully, I don't see why not. But if I get along well with you, the other times I'd like to be a little wilder. I usually go wild in bed. I'm pretty fiery."
I approached him and hugged him. "If that's so, I don't see why you don't do it from the first time. That's the way I like men," I told him maliciously.
He smiled and kissed me. Just like that, no problem. For someone who'd never done it with a boy before! Of course, this time, it was me who touched his package and, I assure you, I was not disappointed.
We immediately returned to work, otherwise our absence would have been noticed, and in the afternoon I went to him for the test. I tell you that not only was I not disappointed, but I was thrilled. He's got a respectable fuck and he knows how to use it sublime. He takes me, he kisses me, he slams me, he turns me over, he spans me, he bumps me, he bumps me again, he fills me, he catches my breath and takes me back, he kisses me again, he fucks me in the mouth, he makes me drink his juice, he catches my breath again and slams me again, he fills me again, he fills me like before. All in a row, almost endlessly. I like that. He says he likes me. And who leaves him anymore. Not just once. Too bad it's a little cramped in this mini-apartment. Yeah, guys, I moved out.
(This story, being erotic in character, has the sole purpose of arousing our animal instincts but not to be taken literally. The same things can be done with due care. Never have sex without a condom: don't ruin your life but enjoy it as much as possible. Have a good wank, everybody.)
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VIP member of Annunci69.it ssbbw69, Singola Lombardia
a hymn to pedophilia disguised as a social tale pointing the finger at homophobia.
and who talks about pedophilia is a prude?
but hypocritical you who get excited at the idea of a 15-year-old boy in the clutches of an old laido who knowingly and cynically takes advantage of him.
I also notice the usual misogynistic rage (in one of the comments the stepmother is called SOCCOLA, misogyny never goes out of fashion).
1 month ago
jacdap, Gay Emilia Romagna
Well, but I have to tell you... I take the floor again to rejoice with @foro_romano for having raised with a story with a "light" tone a small debate on topics of high specific weight to which, moreover, the commentators have adhered with frankness and education. goods now rare..... (forgive the dots @marmarmarpe). ergo... congratulations to all of us!
1 month ago
Marmarpe, Single Abruzzo
Dots forgiven. Otherwise I don't change my mind, certain topics should not be dealt with. At least, not in this way and here. Anyway, peace & love
1 month ago
superhorsewolf, Single Latium
Here we don't talk about "paedophilia" just because a boy is underage and 15 years old! What's more, there has been no penetration... the story has to be read all over, don't dwell on single points taken at will! Then, I repeat that everyone "has" his maturation time! ... I understand that many do not mature even at 30 years old ... I knew very well what I was doing at 12 and a half years ... but I understand that many people, perhaps married and who have children, the age of "minor" is untouchable (I speak morally) Then of course there are the rules dictated by law, but this is another matter! No one then wants to change anyone's mind ... and as far as stepmother ZOCCOLA I repeat ... since she was the cause of the whole ... by screwing the boy. I have tales of "straight" initiation between mothers and children or between women and girls.... but this does not make a sensation, on the contrary it is "almost approved" by society!.... Anyway, there must have been some comments here if you liked it or not... and even if you don't want to be a "moralist", in fact you do! .... Maybe the stress of the Coronavirus is massacring us ... and without cocks we are at neurosis! Best wishes to all!
1 month ago
jacdap, Gay Emilia Romagna
ahahah well @dick-less superhero you'll be there ahahah
I consider myself lucky because thanks to the quarantine I have a 24 hours a day ass at my disposal so much so that sometimes I have to say: nooo... stillaa? eheheheheh
1 month ago
VIP member of Annunci69.it alexwriters, Gay abroad
A few obligatory clarifications, then I'm going to stop it here.
1) it is not necessary that there is penetration because it is paedophilia.
2) the boy is 15 years old and suffers a blowjob.
3)he is 15 years old and after a week with the 60-year-old he moves to the 4o year old photographer and there is penetration. He is still a 15-year-old.
3)three years later he is of age, he is three years old and leaves the photographer who is looking for other younger sexting.
You do it.
As for the ability of a teenager to make decisions, no he is not able.
He hasn't finished cognitive development yet, his brain is not yet mature, he is overwhelmed by hormones and chemical changes.
He's still in training.
It's up to the adults to protect minors, they're braggy, they're loudmouthed, they're big but they're not yet adults or aware.
I don't like sexting either, and in fact, I stay well away from that category.
But if you want to argue that it is right and normal that a 15 goes with a 60 or a 49-year-old, you are free to do so.
I'm free to think differently.
And it's not moralizing.
1 month ago
superhorsewolf, Single Latium
dear jacdap, if that's why I'm here... but it's "familiar" stuff... ahahah
1 month ago
Frivolousb, Gay Lombardia
The initial introduction recalls a dirty and grotesque version of Manzoni. The only part of the story that I really liked is that of the security guard: smooth and almost brilliant. The rest exudes an out of place and almost irritating classicism (but a limit of my own, as already said elsewhere if I want to read myself a classic, period!). And then, but I dare say, especially as someone else here has already well said "this seems in every way a hymn to pedophilia disguised as a social tale". And apart from that, however, this site seems to me the least suitable to make social denunciation stories. That said, a greeting at 1000miles away from your quarantined, decrepit, and bigoted Duchezza!
1 month ago
Foro_Romano, Gay LazioThe Author
I ask for public forgiveness. I didn't think I'd raise such a fuss and forgive me if, in always wanting to invent new stories, I escape into "classicism" and "social storytelling". I won't do it again.
1 month ago
superhorsewolf, Single Latium
Dear Roman Forum...we all come here to make our fantasies "flutter"...and the fantasies are "slutty" and of various kinds.... Now where's the "difference" between us, too? In sexual tastes... Given that in my life I have been "forced" to have three sexual intercourse with minors (believe it or not I don't give a shit... but if I write it is so!) I also avoid abundantly to "fall" in the circle of "paedophilia"... and the law "does not admit ignorance"... even if we are very ignorant about the law on the subject, because, in truth, it is not really forbidden to have sex with a minor, but under certain conditions and age groups!.... Better to go with the just turned 18 years old ... and I have some of those ... they contact me in chat saying that they are of age ... then after a while they tell you that they are minors ... if a little, I'll drag it out and then we meet at the 18th birthday ... (one made on the day of his birthday), if instead very sexting, I disconnect all connections, telling him to contact me when they come of age! .. Everyone has their own tastes, as I disgust stories of sexting with their mothers, or even grandmothers... but I have never allowed myself to "judge" such a fictional story... indeed I avoid them... or at least I do not comment! Good jerking off to everyone... even moralists!
1 month ago
Frivolousb, Gay Lombardia
Gentlemen, let's not fall for the pear tree, please! I mean I understand that the hope is to fall on the hard, but a minimum of demeanour! I'm still a moralist, right? All this with "inventing new stories" has very little to do with it, as it has very little to do with the social story, which I repeat, in my opinion, in a site like this, would appear rather out of place. I read this story, of which I had read some comments, giving me an idea, I didn't even want to read it, because it wasn't my kind of story, but noticing the ruckus, overcome by curiosity, I read it. And since I wasted time reading it, it seemed to me a sacrosanct right to comment on it, after all, I seem to have expressed my humble opinion with the usual politeness and the usual education that distinguishes me! Also because I too, in my stories, receive negative criticism and I don't seem to make dramas or waste precious sarcasm in vain! Having said that, sexual tastes are sexual tastes, but how do you express yours, I express mine, eh? And then it will be true that the age of consent in Italy is 14 years, but in case the adult takes advantage of the situation of fragility/inferiority of the minor, as for example here I think Mr. sixty years of age of the story (moreover there is alcohol in the middle! ) , I don't think it's very legal, then it's absurd to talk about exquisitely legal issues about a fantasy story, but ... you see, the premise of this story speaks clearly, it invites the reader to get excited not to reflect on a social issue ... I swear that I'm going to plant begonias here and ... as the divine Romina Falcone says: "Good life and goodbye"!
PS: all the dots in this comment are kindly offered to @Marmape!
1 month ago
jacdap, Gay Emilia Romagna
I didn't want to write anymore but you pull me....... (marmarps are enough?) the spring is the countercomment of @foro before those of duchezza and superorso. it's not a fuss that you raised but a real ruckus in which personally i'm perfectly comfortable. i like to read serious comments. and, x answer fororomano, no please continue petting with classicism and palpa also the social stories. you do it very well
1 month ago
VIP member of Annunci69.it alexwriters, Gay abroad
What can I say, unlike many people, that I believe instead of writing denunciation or thought-provoking stories is absolutely online on a site like A69. Unfortunately in this the intent is lost and the message that passes is exactly the opposite of what I believe the author wanted to convey.
I personally believe in freedom of expression but also in the responsibility of what he writes about. Finally, the thought of @Frivolousb does not make a fold, as long as everyone follows the rules of good manners, as I think almost everyone has done, you are free to comment disagreeing or agreeing with the content and themes of a story.
Dissent, however, is not synonymous with moralism, respectability or bigotry.
If you choose to write about complex and difficult issues you must be prepared for the different reactions that the story will provoke in the readers.
Exercising a critical sense is never a waste of time.
@jac, and here what would be the non-serious comments?
1 month ago
Marmarpe, Single Abruzzo
I won't comment anymore. In this place you are not even free to comment or express an opinion because you risk being blocked. We really are at pathetically childish levels. Solve your problems before you bust other people's balls! Obviously I am not referring to the author of this story, who is a great lord.
1 month ago
Icepick7, Gay Campania
Honestly I can't understand (you'll forgive if some points have already been expressed previously, but what follows is my thought. Obviously moralisms-free )
The story opens with a beautiful denunciation of homophobia, a delicate theme that is sadly a reality.
After a few lines, however, we read that the above mentioned 15-year-old boy is being tracked by a 60-year-old, who to all intents and purposes takes advantage of it (with the aggravating circumstance of the "2 little glasses", but whatever); all this goes exclusively in one direction. A boy of that age is not able to discern good or bad in sexuality, even if he is convinced and has clear ideas about his own; on the other hand, that of the "old man" is not affection, nor love, nor compassion (also because he is not aware of the boy's situation when he takes him to his home), so he is indefensible.
As if that were not enough, history repeats itself in the same way, with a figure that:
1) He's obviously used to being with sexting...
2)You don't make any kind of problem even when you tell him that the boy is underage.
3) He lures sexting with a specific purpose, masked with promises, as in this case the model.
So you can't make this story pass for everything it isn't: a story that wanted to deal with delicate themes but that expires badly and purposely in paedophilia, slave of mere perversion.
This is not an attempt to raise further feuds or create feuds or expose moralism, the story is this and must be judged for what it is and is worth.
My mother died when I was little and my father, years later, remarried with a good-looking but deeply false and mean, especially to me. So, talking to her friends, she learned that I liked men and that they all had to be on their guard to prevent me from involving their husbands.
I was only 15 years old and that I liked men was true, but I had never had sex with anyone, not even my friends. In fact, I was trying to keep this secret from them, but many had understood it anyway and had spread the word.
Of course she immediately told my father who, one day, took me aside and asked me if it was true. I confess it only to you, but my father was also among my fantasies. Anyway, I wanted to be honest with him and hoped for his understanding. Instead, instigated by his dear little wife, he resolved to kick me out of the house because I was the disgrace of the family.
My disappointment was great and I found myself, from one day to the next, in the middle of the street. Today I know that I could have reported him for child neglect but then I felt guilty. I thought I was a wretch and I deserved that conviction. It was winter and I didn't know where to go. I huddled in the ravine of a wall along a road and started crying, feeling completely lost and with no future. All because of a sexuality that I felt perhaps from birth and that, until then, I had not even enjoyed. I wanted to die. A distinguished gentleman, in his sixties, approached me.
"What are you doing here sexting. You'll catch pneumonia. Go home."
"I don't have a home," I told him in tears.
"What do you mean, you don't have a home? Did you run away?"
"No, I just don't have one." I didn't want to tell him my business, also because I was ashamed of it. He understood that it wasn't appropriate to go into it.
"All right, then come to my house tonight. You'll stay warm. Then tomorrow we'll see."
I looked at him feeling that I didn't deserve that gesture of charity and tried to refuse, but without too much conviction, so much so that, in the end, I accepted and got into his car. He had a beautiful house. It was an elegant, well-kept cottage. He had some antique furniture, and you could tell he was a wealthy person. He showed up. His name was Pasquale and he was a bachelor and he would have loved to have children but life had not given him any. He asked me how old I was.
"My name is Walter and I'm 18." I lied shamelessly about my age, also because I've always been younger than I am. He believed it or pretended to believe it.
He was very kind to me and was happy because, he told me, at least that night he would have company, he could talk to someone. He prepared a delicious dinner, proving to be a good cook, and we ate in a room with a burning fireplace. He also put a silver candelabra on the table, saying he wanted to treat the guests well. So, by candlelight, we talked about this and that: about his life, about mine (without overdoing it). I felt like I was in a dream, perhaps also because of the wine you drank without paying too much attention to it.
Afterwards we sat on the sofa, in front of the fire and he offered me some sambuca. I confessed to him that, I don't know why, that was the only liqueur that, even if I drank little, got me drunk. He insisted and I had two shots of it. I'm not saying I was dizzy, but it really was like I was in the clouds. Everything was so beautiful.
I heard myself confess everything to him and my voice broke out in pain. He put his arm on my shoulders to console me and I leaned my head back on him, like the understanding father I didn't have or, given the age difference, like a grandfather. He caressed me tenderly for a while, then I lifted my head and we looked at each other intensely. There was no need for words and, instinctively, we joined our lips in a chaste kiss. We looked at each other again with bewilderment, at least on my part, and then it was the turn of a very long passionate kiss.
For the first time I received a man's tongue in my mouth and it was shocking. We were overwhelmed with desire for each other. More furious kisses followed. As his hands ran all over my body, mine (I can't explain why) went straight to his flap and I felt, under the cloth, the hardness of his cock. That's when he reached up to my little ass to knead it hard. Maybe it was the alcohol I had drunk, but I felt like I was protected by him but also willing to submit to his (and my) desires.
When the excitement had reached its peak and he was certain of my condescension, he lifted me up in his strong arms and took me, like a bride on a thalamus, into the bedroom, on the large double bed. She gently disposed herself to undress me of my clothes, and then of hers, as she looked at me with eyes full of admiration and lust at the same time.
He had an exceptional physique, despite his age. Massive, with broad shoulders and a bulging neck, a large chest covered with fur. His arms and legs were also muscular and hairy. He was the incarnation of my lone jerk-off man.
He stood over me and gave me another deep kiss. Afterwards I went to lick his neck, his ears (I discovered that he liked it very much), his armpits smelling of sweat and deodorant. That new taste unleashed my hormones. Then it was he who, after a little bit, went down to lick my nipples and areolas, my hips and down to the balls. He slipped his wide, rough, viscous tongue over my stiff little dick. I couldn't stand it, and I cum on my belly.
He picked some up with two fingers and put them in my mouth. I'd never tasted sperm before, not even my own. I liked it. It was sweet. He got up to ride on my face. He ordered me to lick his big hairy sack of balls. I did it with commitment and devotion, as he deserved, indifferent to the many hairs I had to swallow. I felt him getting more and more excited until he pulled back a bit and pointed the chapel at my mouth. It was all new to me, but instinctively I opened my lips and let it in. Just a little touch of my tongue and, with a guttural scream, he dumped a large amount of cream into me, which I swallowed without thinking too much about it. It was good, different from mine, saltier and thicker, but I liked hers too.
I stayed at her house for a week, during which she always made me drink plenty of cum (after sambuca, of course). But I was unhappy, I wanted more. I wanted him to deflower my ass, but he never wanted to do that. He liked it that way.
In the meantime, I was looking for some kind of job that would make me independent, but it had to be absolutely black because I couldn't show my identity card. A lot of people wouldn't even ask me for it, and if they did, I'd leave.
Since I'm a handsome guy, I thought I'd go to some photographer to model. I found one. A handsome man in his forties, very pleasant, with two big sideburns that reached his chin, hairy (I love hairy men). He had a spirit and artistic and a bit crazy ways of doing things. He took a few pictures of me and, every now and then, he would touch the package as if to make it better. He liked me, not just as a subject, I understood him. Suddenly he came up to me, as if to fix my position. Instead, he held me tight and kissed me impetuously. I didn't back down. So I ended up on his bed, where he grabbed me hard and finally took my virginity, with immense pleasure both his and mine. He filled my ass with cum. He was fiery and impetuous, worthy of his artistic streak.
I was sexting and that man fascinated me, as well as fucking me in a fabulous way. So I left Pasquale and moved in with Angelo (that was the photographer's name). I came to tell him the truth about my age, but he didn't care. He said they were mental limitations of the well-meaning. In short, we fucked like hedgehogs for three years, then he found another sexting and we broke up, while still living with him.
My modeling career didn't take off, or at least it didn't reach stratospheric compensations, so I had to keep on doing other occasional jobs too: as a dog sitter I walked dogs or as a factotum in a gay disco during the summer.
It was just last summer. Helping out the bartender, I learned how to make cocktails and had some success with the customers, making some too. But my attention turned immediately to a bouncer. Roberto was an exceptionally virile 38-year-old male. It's useless to describe the physique, worthy of the work he did. He was frightening both for the size and for the hardness of his eyes, which seemed to always want to beat the shit out of you. He was always very kind to me. A slap from him would make me bounce from one wall to the other. I was dying to have him on me (or rather, inside).
One afternoon, the owners made me go to the club to help unload a truckload of beer. It was just me and him, and the driver of the truck just put the crates down in front of the warehouse door and left. It was a beastly effort, but at the same time as I was carrying one in, he was carrying six, two at a time. He was an animal of fatigue. We got there relatively quickly and, in the end, we were completely sweaty. Being near him, his smell, instead of disgusting me, turned me on like crazy.
I went mad, in fact. He had sat down to rest and I, as if nothing had happened, approached him and gave him a lick on the forehead to taste his sweat.
"What are you doing?" he said in a jiffy.
"Nothing. I just wanted to dry you off."
"Well, do you lick me?"
"It just came to me on instinct. It was to do you a favor." He looked at me grimly, but I wasn't afraid of his reaction. I knew him well. He wouldn't hurt me.
"You didn't do it for your own pleasure, did you?" He got it right.
"Yes, maybe, I admit it," I said. I was ashamed.
"Fatty, I'm not taking it easy. I know you're a faggot, but you know I'm straight and married."
"Yeah. Forgive me" I said in a tone of regret.
"You're forgiven. Come here." I walked up to him and he graced me with life. Sitting there, we were face to face. "But I have to admit, you're quite a piece of work. Almost..."
"Almost what?"
He put me in front of him, between his open legs, and kissed me impetuously. His rough tongue immediately took over mine. I melted like plastic in the sun in his strong arms, which had to support me. I leaned (casually) with both hands on her package. When it came off, a thread of saliva connected our lips. We looked into each other's eyes then, both of us, lowered our gaze to my hands, to where they were resting. I could feel, under the cloth, the beast waking up.
"Fuck. You're having an effect on me," he admitted. "How are you with the mouthpieces?"
He put his hand on my head and forced me to kneel down between his big thighs. He unbuttoned his belt, button, zip. He stood up just enough to pull down his jeans and boxer shorts and he covered me in front of a wonderful cock, almost completely stiff and all covered with purple veins.
I immediately took it in my mouth and began to unbutton it properly. She gave me the rhythm with her hand on my head and blew from the nostrils and teeth. He loved it.
"Fucking... Fuck... You're good, you little cum sucker boy... Aaahhhh... yeah... You wanna swallow my cum, bitch? No, I changed my mind." He took it out of my mouth and said, "Sit down over here. I really want to try to fuck an asshole."
I took off the suit that I had on and I straddled his legs. I touched it to point it at the hole and dropped it on him, impaling myself to the fur. I bit my lips not to scream, but I couldn't hold back a high-pitched yelp. The cock was big and the pain was strong, but it only lasted a moment. Then, it was just pure pleasure. He grabbed me by the hips and made me go up and down at will, like I was a rubber doll. He grunted and grunted.
"Bitch of a whore. What a pussy you got!"
He went on like that for at least five minutes, then he got up and with incredible strength, he made me jump on his marble-hard, column-sized cock. I held myself with my arms around his stiff neck and my legs wrapped around his hips. Finally, he leaned my back against the wall and, always holding me up, he hit me with a gragnola of thrusts that broke me mercilessly, just for his pleasure. He was nailing me to the wall. I was yelping like a wounded bitch and it excited him even more. And he'd go to town on my ass. I had the hole completely ripped out.
"Here, bitch, I'm gonna cum in you... I'm coming, veng...oooo."
A roar at the first beat followed by a series of grunts all through the orgasm. It was a thick, sticky sperm enema. He let go by squeezing me against the wall and resting my sweaty forehead. Just enough time to get my breathing and heartbeat back to normal. With a snap, the dick slipped out of me and only then did it let me put my feet back on the ground, while a whitish rivulet slid down my leg. My hole was irritated and so open that I could feel the air go into it.
"Wow! That's the first time I've ever fucked a guy and, I gotta say, not bad. It was one of the biggest cumshots of my life. We'll have to do it again, but don't get your hopes up. I love my wife."
"I don't ask for anything better. You're gonna be my buttadentro all summer, then whoever's seen himself has seen himself. Okay?"
We had a laugh and that was it. Everybody understood it, from the other employees to the customers. So much for jealous fags. But summer's over. He went to work I don't know where and I found a part-time salesman's job at a mall.
Demetrio, a 50-year-old Neapolitan security guard, works at the same mall. It's a hell of a bono. Not very tall, but he's well-placed. Perfect body, very hairy. Gridrid at the temples and a rather thick lace beard. Wide shoulders and big hands. Despite his tough-guy face, which he knows how to pull out when needed, he is always smiling and makes you laugh out loud when, with the classic Neapolitan way of doing it, he pulls down comments and colorful arrows, often pushed. He is everyone's friend and everyone is his friend. How can you not be friends with a guy like that?
I like him a lot. In uniform he's a hottie, especially when, as is his habit, every now and then you touch the package, which looks very well stocked. Right from the start, he's taken a special liking to me, almost like a mascot. He mocks me because I have a slender physique, more suitable for making women laugh than for making them enjoy (and he did not know how far from me this idea is). Then, however, he puts his arm on my shoulders and holds me close saying that he loves me like a son.
I understand the wife who, to a guy like that, can't rely on fidelity. In fact, he's always surrounded by women (center employees and customers) who enjoy his jokes and, more or less openly, either as a joke or seriously, they're all over him. I used to watch him and gnaw at him. When in doubt, she wanted the separation and he had recently moved to live alone in a small two room apartment.
One day, in a moment of low turnout, he approached me and wanted me to follow him to the warehouse. He wanted to talk to me. I thought it was another one of his jokes.
"Dear Walter - he started - you know that I laugh and joke with everyone and that women would all want my cock (and he squeezed it, as usual). You, however, are my witness that I have never cuckolded my wife, at least since you have known me".
"Yes, that's true. At least, as far as I know, I've never seen you go further with anyone."
"Exactly. But she doesn't trust me, so she wants a divorce."
"Are you asking me to testify for you?"
"No, no, I'm not asking you to get involved in this. It's just... it's... well, you know, I've been separated for three months now and... I gotta admit, I miss the rat. But I don't want to have to deal with another woman, a little so as not to give her evidence in her favour and a little so as not to deceive another woman who maybe suckers me".
"All right, but what can I do for you?"
"Well... I know you're a homosexual."
"And how do you know that? Who says?" I said worried.
"I am, but you know what women are like. They have like a sixth sense and they get it. But don't worry, nobody made fun of you. You're so cute, they all love you."
"I thought you couldn't tell."
"Don't get demoralized. If you're convinced of your nature, the important thing is that you live it peacefully."
"Yes, of course... but I still don't understand. What do I have to do with your situation?"
"I live alone in a house that I don't know if I'll ever be able to fix up. It's not like... you could come over and help me... test the bed?"
I got caught off guard. I didn't know whether to laugh at his way of proposing or to be happy about that unexpected development. In fact, we both laughed.
"I mean, you're asking me to put you through three months of abstinence? I should be offended...".
"No, no, no, please, I don't mean to offend you. I'm asking because, you know, somehow... I don't know how to tell you this... I like you, I've always liked you, and even though I've never been with a man, I think I could do it with you."
"Let me finish. "I should be offended, but I'm more than glad. "I've always liked you, too, and you don't know how many times I've jerked off thinking about you. I just wish it wasn't just a rash for you. Maybe it's too much to ask, but I'd like you to put some feeling into it. Even if it's just for once."
"Sure. I didn't mean to use you as a savage. At least not the first time."
"What? Do you think we'll do it other times?" My heart was in my throat.
"Well, hopefully, I don't see why not. But if I get along well with you, the other times I'd like to be a little wilder. I usually go wild in bed. I'm pretty fiery."
I approached him and hugged him. "If that's so, I don't see why you don't do it from the first time. That's the way I like men," I told him maliciously.
He smiled and kissed me. Just like that, no problem. For someone who'd never done it with a boy before! Of course, this time, it was me who touched his package and, I assure you, I was not disappointed.
We immediately returned to work, otherwise our absence would have been noticed, and in the afternoon I went to him for the test. I tell you that not only was I not disappointed, but I was thrilled. He's got a respectable fuck and he knows how to use it sublime. He takes me, he kisses me, he slams me, he turns me over, he spans me, he bumps me, he bumps me again, he fills me, he catches my breath and takes me back, he kisses me again, he fucks me in the mouth, he makes me drink his juice, he catches my breath again and slams me again, he fills me again, he fills me like before. All in a row, almost endlessly. I like that. He says he likes me. And who leaves him anymore. Not just once. Too bad it's a little cramped in this mini-apartment. Yeah, guys, I moved out.
(This story, being erotic in character, has the sole purpose of arousing our animal instincts but not to be taken literally. The same things can be done with due care. Never have sex without a condom: don't ruin your life but enjoy it as much as possible. Have a good wank, everybody.)
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VIP member of Annunci69.it ssbbw69, Singola Lombardia
a hymn to pedophilia disguised as a social tale pointing the finger at homophobia.
and who talks about pedophilia is a prude?
but hypocritical you who get excited at the idea of a 15-year-old boy in the clutches of an old laido who knowingly and cynically takes advantage of him.
I also notice the usual misogynistic rage (in one of the comments the stepmother is called SOCCOLA, misogyny never goes out of fashion).
1 month ago
jacdap, Gay Emilia Romagna
Well, but I have to tell you... I take the floor again to rejoice with @foro_romano for having raised with a story with a "light" tone a small debate on topics of high specific weight to which, moreover, the commentators have adhered with frankness and education. goods now rare..... (forgive the dots @marmarmarpe). ergo... congratulations to all of us!
1 month ago
Marmarpe, Single Abruzzo
Dots forgiven. Otherwise I don't change my mind, certain topics should not be dealt with. At least, not in this way and here. Anyway, peace & love
1 month ago
superhorsewolf, Single Latium
Here we don't talk about "paedophilia" just because a boy is underage and 15 years old! What's more, there has been no penetration... the story has to be read all over, don't dwell on single points taken at will! Then, I repeat that everyone "has" his maturation time! ... I understand that many do not mature even at 30 years old ... I knew very well what I was doing at 12 and a half years ... but I understand that many people, perhaps married and who have children, the age of "minor" is untouchable (I speak morally) Then of course there are the rules dictated by law, but this is another matter! No one then wants to change anyone's mind ... and as far as stepmother ZOCCOLA I repeat ... since she was the cause of the whole ... by screwing the boy. I have tales of "straight" initiation between mothers and children or between women and girls.... but this does not make a sensation, on the contrary it is "almost approved" by society!.... Anyway, there must have been some comments here if you liked it or not... and even if you don't want to be a "moralist", in fact you do! .... Maybe the stress of the Coronavirus is massacring us ... and without cocks we are at neurosis! Best wishes to all!
1 month ago
jacdap, Gay Emilia Romagna
ahahah well @dick-less superhero you'll be there ahahah
I consider myself lucky because thanks to the quarantine I have a 24 hours a day ass at my disposal so much so that sometimes I have to say: nooo... stillaa? eheheheheh
1 month ago
VIP member of Annunci69.it alexwriters, Gay abroad
A few obligatory clarifications, then I'm going to stop it here.
1) it is not necessary that there is penetration because it is paedophilia.
2) the boy is 15 years old and suffers a blowjob.
3)he is 15 years old and after a week with the 60-year-old he moves to the 4o year old photographer and there is penetration. He is still a 15-year-old.
3)three years later he is of age, he is three years old and leaves the photographer who is looking for other younger sexting.
You do it.
As for the ability of a teenager to make decisions, no he is not able.
He hasn't finished cognitive development yet, his brain is not yet mature, he is overwhelmed by hormones and chemical changes.
He's still in training.
It's up to the adults to protect minors, they're braggy, they're loudmouthed, they're big but they're not yet adults or aware.
I don't like sexting either, and in fact, I stay well away from that category.
But if you want to argue that it is right and normal that a 15 goes with a 60 or a 49-year-old, you are free to do so.
I'm free to think differently.
And it's not moralizing.
1 month ago
superhorsewolf, Single Latium
dear jacdap, if that's why I'm here... but it's "familiar" stuff... ahahah
1 month ago
Frivolousb, Gay Lombardia
The initial introduction recalls a dirty and grotesque version of Manzoni. The only part of the story that I really liked is that of the security guard: smooth and almost brilliant. The rest exudes an out of place and almost irritating classicism (but a limit of my own, as already said elsewhere if I want to read myself a classic, period!). And then, but I dare say, especially as someone else here has already well said "this seems in every way a hymn to pedophilia disguised as a social tale". And apart from that, however, this site seems to me the least suitable to make social denunciation stories. That said, a greeting at 1000miles away from your quarantined, decrepit, and bigoted Duchezza!
1 month ago
Foro_Romano, Gay LazioThe Author
I ask for public forgiveness. I didn't think I'd raise such a fuss and forgive me if, in always wanting to invent new stories, I escape into "classicism" and "social storytelling". I won't do it again.
1 month ago
superhorsewolf, Single Latium
Dear Roman Forum...we all come here to make our fantasies "flutter"...and the fantasies are "slutty" and of various kinds.... Now where's the "difference" between us, too? In sexual tastes... Given that in my life I have been "forced" to have three sexual intercourse with minors (believe it or not I don't give a shit... but if I write it is so!) I also avoid abundantly to "fall" in the circle of "paedophilia"... and the law "does not admit ignorance"... even if we are very ignorant about the law on the subject, because, in truth, it is not really forbidden to have sex with a minor, but under certain conditions and age groups!.... Better to go with the just turned 18 years old ... and I have some of those ... they contact me in chat saying that they are of age ... then after a while they tell you that they are minors ... if a little, I'll drag it out and then we meet at the 18th birthday ... (one made on the day of his birthday), if instead very sexting, I disconnect all connections, telling him to contact me when they come of age! .. Everyone has their own tastes, as I disgust stories of sexting with their mothers, or even grandmothers... but I have never allowed myself to "judge" such a fictional story... indeed I avoid them... or at least I do not comment! Good jerking off to everyone... even moralists!
1 month ago
Frivolousb, Gay Lombardia
Gentlemen, let's not fall for the pear tree, please! I mean I understand that the hope is to fall on the hard, but a minimum of demeanour! I'm still a moralist, right? All this with "inventing new stories" has very little to do with it, as it has very little to do with the social story, which I repeat, in my opinion, in a site like this, would appear rather out of place. I read this story, of which I had read some comments, giving me an idea, I didn't even want to read it, because it wasn't my kind of story, but noticing the ruckus, overcome by curiosity, I read it. And since I wasted time reading it, it seemed to me a sacrosanct right to comment on it, after all, I seem to have expressed my humble opinion with the usual politeness and the usual education that distinguishes me! Also because I too, in my stories, receive negative criticism and I don't seem to make dramas or waste precious sarcasm in vain! Having said that, sexual tastes are sexual tastes, but how do you express yours, I express mine, eh? And then it will be true that the age of consent in Italy is 14 years, but in case the adult takes advantage of the situation of fragility/inferiority of the minor, as for example here I think Mr. sixty years of age of the story (moreover there is alcohol in the middle! ) , I don't think it's very legal, then it's absurd to talk about exquisitely legal issues about a fantasy story, but ... you see, the premise of this story speaks clearly, it invites the reader to get excited not to reflect on a social issue ... I swear that I'm going to plant begonias here and ... as the divine Romina Falcone says: "Good life and goodbye"!
PS: all the dots in this comment are kindly offered to @Marmape!
1 month ago
jacdap, Gay Emilia Romagna
I didn't want to write anymore but you pull me....... (marmarps are enough?) the spring is the countercomment of @foro before those of duchezza and superorso. it's not a fuss that you raised but a real ruckus in which personally i'm perfectly comfortable. i like to read serious comments. and, x answer fororomano, no please continue petting with classicism and palpa also the social stories. you do it very well
1 month ago
VIP member of Annunci69.it alexwriters, Gay abroad
What can I say, unlike many people, that I believe instead of writing denunciation or thought-provoking stories is absolutely online on a site like A69. Unfortunately in this the intent is lost and the message that passes is exactly the opposite of what I believe the author wanted to convey.
I personally believe in freedom of expression but also in the responsibility of what he writes about. Finally, the thought of @Frivolousb does not make a fold, as long as everyone follows the rules of good manners, as I think almost everyone has done, you are free to comment disagreeing or agreeing with the content and themes of a story.
Dissent, however, is not synonymous with moralism, respectability or bigotry.
If you choose to write about complex and difficult issues you must be prepared for the different reactions that the story will provoke in the readers.
Exercising a critical sense is never a waste of time.
@jac, and here what would be the non-serious comments?
1 month ago
Marmarpe, Single Abruzzo
I won't comment anymore. In this place you are not even free to comment or express an opinion because you risk being blocked. We really are at pathetically childish levels. Solve your problems before you bust other people's balls! Obviously I am not referring to the author of this story, who is a great lord.
1 month ago
Icepick7, Gay Campania
Honestly I can't understand (you'll forgive if some points have already been expressed previously, but what follows is my thought. Obviously moralisms-free )
The story opens with a beautiful denunciation of homophobia, a delicate theme that is sadly a reality.
After a few lines, however, we read that the above mentioned 15-year-old boy is being tracked by a 60-year-old, who to all intents and purposes takes advantage of it (with the aggravating circumstance of the "2 little glasses", but whatever); all this goes exclusively in one direction. A boy of that age is not able to discern good or bad in sexuality, even if he is convinced and has clear ideas about his own; on the other hand, that of the "old man" is not affection, nor love, nor compassion (also because he is not aware of the boy's situation when he takes him to his home), so he is indefensible.
As if that were not enough, history repeats itself in the same way, with a figure that:
1) He's obviously used to being with sexting...
2)You don't make any kind of problem even when you tell him that the boy is underage.
3) He lures sexting with a specific purpose, masked with promises, as in this case the model.
So you can't make this story pass for everything it isn't: a story that wanted to deal with delicate themes but that expires badly and purposely in paedophilia, slave of mere perversion.
This is not an attempt to raise further feuds or create feuds or expose moralism, the story is this and must be judged for what it is and is worth.
