Nasty Boys

I was born nasty. I swear I can remember being sexually aroused sliding along the top of my crib's side rail when I started sneaking out to explore the universe around me. Mom thought it was cute when I popped a chubby in the bath when she washed my penis. Oh, yea. No 'wee wee' in our house. Everything about the body, sex, life was honest and open.

The folks let my brother keep his Penthouses and other 'stuff' under the towels in the cabinet under our bathroom sink. I was sneaking them out even before he told me it was O.K. Right off the bat I knew something was different between us. Warren was all drooly over the girls. Me, I was studying the guys. Warren thought the shots of big breasted females licking on each other were hot. I favored shots where a hot mouth was ready to swallow that stiff pecker or where that hard humper was going for some meat. I had wet dreams and hot jack off fantasies about those pricks from the first day I found Warren's stash.

My brother wasn't dumb. He caught on. Sat me down and explained things. Guess he even told the folks that maybe I was going to be different -- gay was the word used on television. Perverted was the one used in church. We quit going after that one sermon. Dad even made a crack about how, if it was such a sin, how come God gave some people those urges. Mom was hugging me a lot trying to convince me and herself that it was O.K.

Warren and I had rooms at the back of the house. The master bedroom was at the front. He got me turned on to horror films -- Halloween, the varied adventures of Jason and Freddie and vampires. The idea of sucking blood gave me a hard on. I'd lie there with my hand in my pants playing with myself. Still do. Just last week I grossed Warren out laying in the middle of his floor whacking away watching 'From Dusk 'til Dawn'. Man, would I love to crawl in bed with George Clooney. So. I had two reasons for squirting that night.

Warren was a cool brother, sometimes. Even bought a few male skin magazines for me. But I knew it embarrassed the hell out of him to do it. He only did it twice before I looked old enough to go get my own. I'd acquired a fake ID that added five years. The family characteristics of early facial hair and broad shoulders made it so I hardly ever got carded -- whether buying porn or cigarettes or beer. Oh, yea. I told you I was born nasty. I was smoking and drinking at twelve. That, even in my family, I had to sneak around with.

Warren wasn't so cool when it came to music. He was all MTV. Me, I'd discovered skateboarding and the punk scene and loved it. Body slamming. The whole anit-attitued. We agreed on some rap but little else. Sometimes it was a battle of decibels with us both pumping up the amps on our favs, trying to drown out the other's 'noise'. Now that brought instant parental disapproval.

Warren bringing home girls, having them stay overnight, pumping away and screaming -- that no one but me made a comment about. So when I finally made a real close friend, a buddy that I found had all my interests in common, I figured everything was going to be cool. We'd met on the streets, skateboarding. He had on this totally awesome glow in the dark 'Misfits' tee and a Mohawk with sideburns. Bobby was as nasty as I was, or more. He lived with his uncle. Ate and slept there when nothing more interesting was available. He had already done all the suff I had just fantasized over. At least he sure talked a good story.

But -- the day we walked in and I announced that Bobby was staying over and asked what was there to eat -- the shit hit the fan in big squishy turds. Dad lost his reserve of understanding and dumped out a lot of feelings he must have been hiding since the first. Bobby made a hasty retreat with a wave and a sardonic smile. "Sounds too fucking much like home. Later, asshole."

I didn't take the crap for long. Slammed out yelling about hypocrisy and how I hated my brother's guts. Knew that was just jealousy as soon as I said it. Was mad enough that, right then, I didn't care. Called dad a fucking Nazi and left him trembling in rage.

Bobby was just standing down at the corner. He'd been waiting. We went to his room at his uncle's place. Defiantly we held hands walking along, boards under our arms. He just told his uncle that we needed the house, wanted to be alone, and it happened. Turned out Bobby gave the guy head ever so often and had him wrapped around his stiff cock, in a manner of speaking. So, with damn little foreplay, there we were, naked and hugging on each other in his bed.

Turned out we weren't as compatible sexually as we were in everything else. Bobby was into sucking cock. No problem. Bobby dug doing 69. No problem. Bobby loved having someone slurp up his balls and slobber all over his hot cock. No fucking problem. Hell, I took to cock sucking like returning to my mother's breasts. It just felt natural. And Bobby tasted so mother humping good. I couldn't get enough. He was a fat dicked dude. It was all I could do to get that mother between my lips. But it fit. Fit fine. Somehow the mechanics of cock sucking just were there for me. Like I'd dreamed about it enough that reality and fantasy were one and the same.

We both were ready to blast off after damn little time. Laid there jerking and twitching, fisting each other's cocks. Another beautiful, totally perfect, just like I knew it would be feeling. I wanted him to shoot. Wanted to seem someone else's spunk flying. Just thinking of what was coming -- Bobby cumming -- make me jerk faster on him and with my hips as he pounded my cock. It was better than I'd dreamed. That torpedo of his blasted away in my hand. It was a totally different display that I was use to seeing erupt from my own cock. His cum squirted out in rapid fire, high flying drops. They were miniature white marbles flung out to splat down all over him, me, the bed, even off onto the floor. It kept shooting out. Not one gush but a seemingly endless shower. When I ejaculated it was the old familiar initial rocketing glob of stringy goo followed by bubbling, gushing thick white pasty cream that pulsed out and dribbled down my cock and coated Bobby's hand.

So, where was the incompatibility. Well that came to the surface after we horsed around in the shower and then, still naked, raided the 'fridge and took our drinks and sandwiches back to the bedroom. Bobby was all hot and hanging heavy before we finished the first pair of sandwiches. Told me he had a constant hard on when prime meat was on display and reached out to lightly caress my face. There was a look in his eyes I hadn't seen before. The feel of his hand and the gleam in his eye bothered me. Bobby was going mushy on me. He started talking serious stuff. Stuff I didn't want to hear. Then he said the right thing, the wrong way.

"I want to make love to you, Clint. Want to fuck your brains out, turn you into a quivering mass of hot begging flesh." The loving gleam in his eyes had hardened up and been joined with a heavy dose of pure lust. But all I heard with the first eight words. It scared the living shit out of me. Hey, I knew I was gay -- but no way was I queer for another guy. Sex I could handle, ached for. Love. That was something else. I grabbed his hand.

"Put a break on it, Bobby. You're going too fast." My voice was quavering. At the same time I could feel a cold chill settling in my loins -- shriveling my cock, pulling it in to hide in my brown bush.

It was like I had reached out and slapped him, hard. He actually got tears in his eyes. He shook his head. Hugging his stiff cock in one hand he looked at me pleading. "But, Clint, I need you. I'll take it easy. Don't want to hurt you, just fuck your ass, lover. It's such a fine ass. Please, Clint."

That word. I shuddered again. But maybe I was overreacting. This sounded like a pretty sexual desire. I did want it. I'd experimented before with my own thumb soaping in the shower. Even squeezed in a cold green cucumber covered with butter once. But. That damn cock of Bobby's. It was so fat. He did try to be gentle in his way. But it hurt. It wouldn't fit and he wouldn't stop trying.

Bobby ended up just humping between my buttocks, reaching around and pinching my nipples, chewing and sucking on the back of my neck. What ruined it was his talking. He was talking that way again. Talking all about how he loved me, needed me, wanted me to be with him. I'd got all hard again when we started. Was rubbing my way to another climax on the cum splattered sheet when he started whispering in my ear. I lost my erection. Bang, like that it was gone. The pinching, tweaking on my nipples just hurt. No pleasure thrills. Those fled with my erection.

Bobby cruised into a hot orgasm., spitting his shower out from between my ass cheeks all over my back. He was grunting, moaning about cumming, nearly tore off my left tit. Didn't feel anything but pain and sadness. It had started out so great. Now all I wanted to do was get away. Didn't know where I could go. Ended up knuckling Warren's window. Told him I was sorry about the things I said. Admitted I got mad because I was jealous. Would you believe it? He understood. Told me to just cool it with the folks, pretend nothing had happened. Said it always worked for him. From then on we adopted the military's policy at home -- don't ask, don't tell.

I avoided Bobby. He was crushed -- for about a day. Now he gives me a hard time calling me pussy boy and giving me the finger. He did introduce me to Juan. He caught the two of us watching each other out of the corner of our eyes. Dollied up and smacked my arm hard. Told me there was no way I could handle that Tex-Mex meat if I couldn't take his plug. Still, he offered to mediate a meeting. The next thing I knew Bobby was presenting his homeboy Juan and telling Juan to watch out 'cause I had a mean mouth.

"Clint can suck the juice right out of your balls, bro," he said with a wink and shot off down the drive, popping high, slamming over the curb. The two of us just stood there and then the humor of it hit us. We were yowling in each other's arms, explaining how we knew Bobby as we tried to catch our breath. Gasping out a sentence or two and then locking our eyes and breaking out in roars of laughter again.

"So, white bread, you ever had any brown meat before?" We were recovered from our laughing fit and sitting side by side on the curb. Somehow I felt at ease. Didn't feel like I had to play games. Admitted that, other than my own hand, Bobby was the only guy I'd been with. Juan looked startled, those brown eyes raking over my face. "So, how far'd you go? He get your cherry?" He fucked his tongue between pursed lips as he waited for my reply.

"Maybe I'll tell you all about it sometime, you nosy Latino hot ass. Right now that's too personal. Information like that I share only with close friends. I just met you. Sharing experiences with Bobby doesn't make us tight. Not to my way of thinking." I wanted to see how he'd react.

He stared at me. A sneer creased his lips. "So, what would, butt breath? Want me to suck your white cock? Would that loosen up your tight white ass? How 'bout I let you give me a blow job? Would that do it? Come on, cherry ass. You are a cherry ass aren't you, Clint? Couldn't take that log of Bobby's could you? Don't sweat it, white boy," he paused, and then winked at me, "neither could I."

Once more we were shaking with laughter. Side by side, writing in the grass we roared, pounding on each other. I finally collapsed on my back. My hand grazed his. His clutched mine. Juan stood and pulled me up. He was all serious and breathing hard between full pouty lips. His hand burned on mine.

"Let's go, white boy. We have business to conduct. I want you. You want me. There's no time like the present." He was still holding tight to my hand, his eyes boring into mine. "Come on. There's an empty house just over here two blocks. We're gonna suck and fuck the rest of this day, until we drop, you magnifico hombre blanco." His voice had gotten deep, husky with passion.

We went down the alley -- all high fences and garage doors. The garage was tagged with three distinctive sets of blood signs. Juan pointed out his. It was a rainbow arc within a florescent pink triangle. It was beautiful. An open declaration of gay pride. We got into the house through the garage. The place had a raunchy smell, a mix of cheap wine, pot and sex. I was gulping in deep breaths, savoring the odor, eager to contribute my part. That stimulation was the final one needed. I was hard as a rock in anticipation.

Whoever owned the place wasn't trying to sell it or watching over it. No 'For Sale' signs were out front and no one had cleaned up the mess in the kitchen that included green moldy plates of who knows what. Juan said it had been that way for four months now as he led me down the hall. We entered what must have been the master bedroom. It was now furnished with a pile of bedding, a portable CD player and a three drawer cardboard chest. Juan unloaded a wild array of rubbers and jels from the top drawer. Then he extracted a fucking fifteen inch realistic dildo from the second and handed it to me.

I stared at it my eyes like saucers. "Some day, muchacho, we will include this beauty in our plans. Just think of what pleasures await." With that he returned that intimidating monster to the drawer, turned and started stripping out of his clothes. He was smooth, lean, swinging a neatly clipped cock between his legs. There was a helmet of gleaming black hair with bangs on the top of his head, the rest, sides and back, had been shaved clean like around that cock. He had a gap between his top two teeth. But, his smile sparkled, like his eyes, as he watched me keep pace as he disrobed.

We walked toward each other. With each step his fiery Mexican blood pumped his cock, lifting it from between his legs until it stood at attention, rising up and snuggling against his tight little brown belly. Juan drank a bit too much beer, didn't exercise except for playing around on his skateboard and doing some serious sex. But, I thought it was cute. My own cushion from which to watch the gyrations of his sex when I played with it. Which I did. Constantly.

We stretched out already knowing what we both wanted to start with. I was fondling that brown poker, diving down ever so often to lick his dickhead. Juan was working his way into my butt crack, spreading my legs, nuzzling in, slobbering and nibbling and licking. When he got real serious, chewing my ass lips and tugging away with his teeth, I returned the favor chomping down on the tip of his cock. There for a while we were both seeing just how far we could go, just how hard can you crunch a guy's nuts between your teeth. We gave in almost simultaneously and settled down to slurping cocks. He was good. Even if the ass was his favorite sex organ, he was no slouch sucking dick. I damn near came in his mouth. Actually think he would have let me.

I didn't. We quit together. When I shoved my hand in to take over the controls, he plopped out of my mouth. Scooting around we lay, arms around each other's neck. We stroked, grinning silly grins at each other, then lifting our heads to watch, lying back down, kissing. Yea, I don't even know how it happened. One moment we're looking silly at each other, the next our tongues are tangling and we're mouth fucking like mad. It was just part of the passion, the sexual fever, the need to be close. There was nothing weird about it, no mushy stuff. I shot my wad first. Old faithful erupted with its one giant spray and then pumped out the usual flow of white steamy lava.

Juan was grunting, whapping hard with his fist. He grunted at me to help him. Told me between heavy gasping breaths what to do. His knees were already up. I spit on my fingers and reached around, feeling for his hole. It got easier when I laid my head back on his plump, quivering belly. I spit again and slid a finger in, then two. He was cursing, I assumed, wiggling his butt and flailing away on his cock. It was right there in my face. I could see the tendons on his hand, the glistening as pre-cum dribbled out of that slit atop his cock's chestnut red cap. He was humping down on my hand, moaning, crying 'mas, mas, mas'. Hey, that I understood and shoved my fingers up, harder. Then he was thrashing, his body shaking, his head banging on the floor.

That cushy little belly got as hard as a board. His hand stopped beating, just held there, muscles quivering, his wrist vibrating. Out of his mouth came this whimpering cry of release as a fountain of milky cum spewed forth. It gushed out in one massive outpouring, a seemingly endless thread of white glistening beads that darted right for my face. I wanted to open wide and catch it, lick it off my lips, clamp my mouth over that spewing organ and swallow him whole. Instead I clinched my eyes, pressed my lips together and reveled in the feel as his juices fell in wet clingy globs on my cheeks, streamed from my eyebrows, ran down my chin. He continued to buck and whine. With my ear on his belly I could hear him, his body churning, breath rasping. It was erotic as hell. I felt a stirring. His orgasmic grunting, wiggling and the cum on my face was getting me hot again.

We lay there. Juan caught his breath, tugged me up and started kissing, licking my face clean. God, what a nasty dude. I'd never have done that. My hand was still all sticky. I snuck my thumb into my mouth while Juan was washing my chin. Well, not anything great, sort of tangy and tinny. Oh, boy. I started squirming because that hot brown stud was now licking and lapping away on my chest. This was a hell of a lot better than Bobby's wild tit pulling.

When Juan sucked hard on a nipple and then started chewing, I was begging him to stop and then pleading for him to do it harder. He didn't stop though until he was slobbering all over my now totally swollen and hard thrusting cock. Then he told me what he was doing. Just getting it ready for a little ass poking. He scratched around with one arm and slapped two rubbers and a tube of jel on my stomach, still sucking my cock. He stripped out a condom, locked it between his teeth and his lips and used him mouth to guide it on. What a sensation.

With a liberal application of jel on himself and me Juan squatted, guiding me into him with a steady hand. It was unbelievable, warm, clinging, as good as a mouth, better. He was bobbing his ass, sliding up and down on my pole, grinning a crazy grin. He was having a fucking ball, giving me a fucking, letting me fuck him. A fucking. It was happening. I, for the first time, was fucking. I went wild, whamming up, banging my butt on the floor. I wanted to try other positions but nothing else could possibly feel this good. I couldn't stop to make any change anyway. Then it was too late, way, way too late.

Juan was riding me like a wild bull rider. What I was enjoying had pumped him back up. He was bouncing and jerking, squirming his ass, twitching my cock all over the place as he slammed into me, grunting, grunting and then lifting up, ah, ah. Juan was a very, very anal person when it came to his sexuality I learned. First my fingers and now my cock got him off. His cum was flying again, stringing out. This time it wasn't such a heavy load, but it was amazing to watch. And to feel.

This time I was there with him. His body locked down on my cock, sucking, squeezing, capturing it in a hot grip that rocked me from head to toe. Little hot worms squiggled up my ass. My balls ached, wound up and tossed off their second outpouring of the afternoon.

Juan flopped beside me. I tossed the cum filled rubber across the room. He scrubbed his hand across my torso picking up a handful of gooey, sticky Latin spunk. He shoved his hand in my face. A nasty move but I loved it. I lay there slurping and moaning.

We were still banging away when it got so dark you couldn't see the globs of cum I shot while Juan humped my ass. We'd done it all and started around again with themes and variations. My ass was sore and my dick was raw and -- for the first time in my life -- I was totally, obliviously happy.

So now I'm a member of Los Hermanos Malo -- the white bread brother with the vacuum mouth and the quickest hand at spray painting in town. Still nasty, just directed, channeled, learning to live with being gay.