Sex Histories	Sex Histories Archive

California-- I have been putting off writing to you for some unknown reason for several years. I believe the time is now, so here goes.

I am a 62-year-old cocksucker. I have never tried to keep track of numbers or places. I just enjoy, and I hope those who have had my tongue wrapped around their dick and have shot a load of cum down my throat have enjoyed it as much.

Two weeks ago I returned from four weeks in Mexico. The first three weeks were work related, and I was unable to bring anyone to my room and feel comfortable. However, the last week I sucked 11 cocks and turned away as many.

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Just outside of Merida is a large army training camp. Many Mexicans ages 17 and 18 train as cadets in a program similar to one proposed by President Clinton. These boys work crowd control, traffic, ecological clean up, etc. They are paid about $75 a month and get room, board, and uniform. At least this is what Umberto claimed and I have no reason to doubt him.

He is a handsome guy, probably two-thirds Indian blood, about 5' 4", gleaming white teeth, and jet black straight hair. I was reading in the main square when I noticed him walk by. He smiled and sat down at a bench a short distance away. He looked over at me often, and I at him often, so when he relocated himself on the bench next to me there was little doubt in my mind as to what he wanted and little doubt in his mind as to what I wanted. We just had to work out the particulars, using his almost nonexistent English and my very inadequate Spanish. After awhile it was agreed that I was to give him a blow job and ten U.S. dollars and he would meet me at the hotel coffee shop at 4 o'clock.

The meeting took place. He had a Coke. We went to my room and he stripped down to show off proudly a well developed body. His dick was short but fat, and jutted out of a thick patch of soft, straight, black hair. He had small tufts of hair under his arms, and that was it. His ass and balls were as if they had just been shaved. As I got down on my knees in front of him, he pointed his dick into my open mouth. He pushed my head down and held it as he slowly fucked my face. My nose was buried in his pubic hair. In just a couple of minutes he shot a thick load into my mouth.

He took a shower, dressed, accepted his $10, and that was that, I thought.

I only had one more day in Merida. I went out to the Hermitage church, several blocks from the main square, and on my way back I ran into Umberto with a young girl. He greeted me and asked if I was interested in taking the girl back to the hotel. I indicated that I would be interested if they both went to the hotel with me and let me watch while they fucked and sucked and whatever. He talked to the girl for awhile and she agreed. The price was $15 for two hours.

Later that evening they arrived. After a few sips of brandy, she took her clothes off and then undressed him.

An 'extremely attractive' bellboy

She sucked on his dick for a long time, and then he went down on her. He fucked her in several positions. Finally he came and shot all over her belly. I lapped it up.

He used up three rubbers during the next hour or so. I only regret that I had no Polaroid film left.

In the early 1980s a gay teenager lived down the street. At the age of 14 he ran away from home, went to San Francisco, and became involved in drugs, prostitution, and being taken into and kicked out of homes of various sugar daddies. I gave him a key to my house and told him that the next time he felt he had to run away, he had a place to go as long as he called his parents and let them know where he was. This worked fairly well for the next few years.

One day when he was 18, he was at my house with his sister and her boyfriend. When I got home I opened the door as usual and found the aptly-named Rod fucking a guy on the couch. That Rod was fucking a guy did not surprise me but the fact that he was fucking his sister's boyfriend surprised the shit out of me.

In 1953 I was in the U.S. Army, stationed on an airbase near Trier, Germany. Everything was in tents, and since I was in supply and the company weapons were kept in the supply tent, I bunked in the supply tent alone. There were many memorable events here but one of the very best involved a blond corporal that I really had the hots for. He had a huge uncut cock that always seemed semi-hard. His uniforms were tight and that dick was always pushing out the front. He seemed to know that I was interested in him but I was very cool playing while I was in the service.

One afternoon he asked me if I would let him bring a girl into the supply tent Saturday night. I was so excited at the prospect of seeing his big dick in action that I said OK.

Saturday night came, the time agreed to came, and passed. About midnight there was a tapping on the door front. He was there alone. He said he was sorry, he got stood up. He wanted to come in. He began to tell me how horny he was, how drunk he was, how hard he was. "Here, feel it," he said. He took my hand and pressed it over his bulging crotch. He kept rubbing my hand over his boner, then unbuttoned his pants and out popped the monster. He put my hand around it and started to fuck my hand. Then he put pressure on my head and moved it down over his dick. I opened my mouth and he shoved my head all the way down.

I had never had such a large one in my mouth before. I made love to his joint like it was solid gold. All too soon he was pumping the contents of his balls into my mouth.

It was what he'd wanted all the time and I had three repeats on that monster before he was sent back to the states.

In Burma in 1987, just before the country went to Hell, I had a very memorable brief encounter with one of the smallest cocks I have ever had. We were staying in an overflow hotel; all the regular tourist hotel rooms were taken.

'He was a little rough'

The bellboy who carried the luggage to the rooms was an extremely attractive, very slightly built, smiling knockout. I look at his picture today and get a hard on.

I had to share my single room with the tour guide, because of the hotel room shortage, so I made no attempt to attract the bellboy.

Never did get single accommodations the rest of the trip, so I never got into the pants of those great looking Burmese.

However, things do turn around. We did go back to the same hotel after touring other parts of Burma, the same bellboy was there, and I had a cabin to myself.

I tried to catch the eye of the bellboy, especially so he would know what room I was in, and always smiled at him- even licked my lips in that universally understood sign.

The second day, as departure time approached, I was still playing the game, and I was sure that I would chalk this one up as "It was fun but the game was never completed."

I left lunch early to hurry back to the room and be there when my bags were picked up. They had already been picked up. The bus was to leave soon.

There was a knock on the door. There he was. I looked into his eyes to see if there was an understanding there. He held my hands, but said nothing; then turned and left. Shortly he was back with a friend, one of the cleaning boys, and an eyeful at that. He indicated that his friend would watch, and he closed the door. He stepped out of his sandals and lowered his trousers while I was going down on my knees in front of him.

His dick was like a stubby pencil and hard as steel. I pulled him all the way hard against my face and he fucked it at great speed. His orgasm was loud and explosive. About eight sharp bursts, each just a second after the previous one.

The whole episode lasted less than a minute, but the build-up had been 8 days.

I gave his friend a blow job also. It was not a memorable one, and he was a little rough, but it was a good one just the same. I gave them all the cigarettes, matches, and pens I had, as well as a few U.S. dollars.

I have pictures of them both and they have provided plenty of jack-off memories for the past 5 years.

We corresponded for about two years, but I couldn't give him any hope of getting out of that dreadful country, and I didn't want to provide him with false hopes. I trust he is well.

In 1964 I left the Bay Area to drive to Alaska. It was camping all the way. First stop was Patrick Point State Park, and as I left the park about 8 o'clock in the morning, I saw two young guys hitchhiking. In fact they were a little more than hitchhiking. They wanted me to stop. They had been hitching a ride home in Vancouver, British Columbia, and the driver that had picked them up had just taken off with their back packs and everything but their sleeping bags.

I took them into Crescent City to make a report to the sheriff and then offered to take them as far as Portland, where I was going to stop off for a couple of days to see a friend. I was going to pitch my tent at a camping ground outside Eugene, Oregon, and I would take l them to Portland in the morning. That was agreeable to them.

That's what we did, after I bought some steaks and some beer. After our meal we sat around and talked for awhile. Nothing sexual.

There were a lot of other campers in the area, and the guys had had a difficult time, so I was not about to complicate things. However if they gave any indication of interest, I was ready.

The tall blond guy was tired and hit the sack early. The other one dark-haired and shorter, sat up a little longer.

We could hear snoring from the tent.

'I was awakened by a hard dick'

I was getting tired myself, and crawled into my bag, which was in the center between the two guys. The dark-haired one closed the tent flap and lay down on top of his bag. Slowly and quietly he took off his clothes-- all of them. There was enough light to see that he had a hard on. He lay back on his bag and started to play with himself. Gradually he inched his body further towards my head. He never said a word I slowly moved my body down so that my head was closer to his hard dick. When it was just about in front of my head, he turned on his side. I opened my mouth and he popped it in.

I sucked quietly on his dick for about 15 minutes. Then it really got hard and without a sound from him he poured his cum into me. I took my head off his dick. We both rolled over and I went to sleep.

Later that night, or early in the morning, I was awakened by a hard dick being pushed into my mouth. I thought it was the dark-haired guy wanting seconds. It wasn't. The tall blond had a big uncut cock that he was wanting me to take care of.

This was a fast, but also quiet, suck job. I went back to sleep and neither one asked to be serviced again. Neither one said anything about the blow jobs the rest of the trip. I am not sure of their story or if they knew that each had been sucked off by me.

Author Profile:  Boyd McDonald

Born in 1925 in South Dakota, Boyd McDonald entered Harvard as a high-school dropout after serving in the army in World War II. Jobs with Time, IBM, and several Wall Street firms preceded Boyd's career as a chronicler of gay sex. He was the founder and editor of Straight to Hell (alternatively the Manhattan Review of Cocksucking), and later published a number of anthologies of true sex histories. Boyd died in September 1993, two months after completing his final book, Scum.