WARNING: I’m going to be discussing something of an adult nature. I am whipping this out as it comes to mind and will be thoughts that are raw and uncensored – I may or may not use vulgarity. Oh, and it may have tons of grammatical and spelling errors too (Oh, the horror!?!?!). This post is intended for mature audiences. Also, names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.
I’m on a weird work schedule at the moment, and my thoughts tend to get sporadic when I struggle with my sleep. Today, my thoughts drifted back to a time when I thought I was a “Fag”. So, I thought, I would make an entry as part of my Sexual And Relationship Development set of posts.
Being “bisexual” wasn’t a norm – and certainly unheard of in males, right? Well, there was a distinct experience I had when I had someone refer to me as a “Fag” right after he and I shared some sexual experiences. I can’t remember my exact age – maybe 12 or 13 – I was pretty young when I began experimenting with some of my male friends. Well, I had one friend at the time, his name was Mike, that I had hung around with quite a bit, but we had never done anything sexual with each other up until this particular incident that I’m bringing up here.
When I was younger, I was kind of an outcast at school, and as a result, I made friendships with other outcasts. Mike was one of those. There was nothing particularly attractive about him, and I hate to say anything mean, but he also wasn’t the smartest person I ever knew. I think we formed a friendship, simply because we lived in the same neighborhood and neither one of us were among the popular kids at school. As you can imagine, he and I hung out quite a bit together – and often at my house, since I was a latchkey kid. Both of my parents worked and only Mike’s dad worked.
If I remember correctly, this occurred during the summer between my 7th and 8th grade years of school. Mike came over to my house and I’m sure the play began with some sort of dare between the two of us. We would often challenge each other to do silly things – like eat read dipped in pickle juice and drizzled with chocolate syrup or something. And truthfully, I don’t know who’s idea it was to look at each other’s dicks. But one of us challenged the other to show it off and there were looking at each other, with our shorts around our ankles and our stiffening cocks pointed straight out. Well, mine was straight; Mike’s kind of shot our and curved down slightly.
Honestly, I was amazed. He had a very big dick. I think it’s the biggest I have ever seen – and I don’t mean at that time, I mean ever. I’ve never thought mine was very big to begin with, but his certainly dwarfed mine. At one point, we kind of approached each other and began swinging our own dicks at each other, as if to fight with swords. It became readily obvious he was a long longer than I was, although I had a tad more girth. Eventually, I reached out and grabbed his penis and began to rub it a little. I didn’t think it could get any harder, but it did. Mike was already breathing hard and reached out for me and kind of turned me around so that my rear end was facing him. He rubbed himself up against me and pulled me in close as he reached around and began to stroke my smaller cock. His hand looked different on my cock than mine on his cock.
All in a rush, I pulled away. It seemed fun at the time, as I ran way from him and he chased me around my house. It was completely gay and I’m sure if anyone would have walked in on us, it would have looked completely gay. Occasionally, I would let Mike catch me and let him rub his big cock along my butt crack and he would stroke my comparatively little penis. The excitement was intense.
At one point, I turned around and got on my knees and noticed his monster sized cock staring me in the eyes. I had an inclination to put it into my mouth, but it kind of scared me and I was worried. For what, I do not know, but it was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. Instead of putting it in my mouth, I kissed the head and began stroking his huge dick. I couldn’t believe this was happening.
And then, all of a sudden, Mike quit thrusting himself forward and back and pulled away from me and looked down at me and said, “You’re a fag. You’re a faggot.” It saddened me and I got up and pulled my pants up.
My cock beginning to go limp as I looked at him and said, “I thought we were having fun…”
He pulled his pants up and sucked in a sudden deep breath, obviously a look of lost control on his face and repeated, “You’re gay. You’re a fag. I’m telling everyone at school.”
Now, remember, I mentioned Mike wasn’t very smart as I felt the need to explain to him, “You know, everyone will want to know how you know I’m a fag, right? You’ll have to admit you were trying to hump me.” – ‘Fuck’ was bad word and I was raised to not say it (Yes, I realize the irony of what I’m saying at this exact moment).
Our friendship ended that day. Mike left my house and we and I never hung out again. He never told anyone at school I was a “fag”, but occasionally, he would walk by me and whisper, “You’re a fag”…