Sex Histories	Sex Histories Archive

New York City-- Have been reading your latest Raunch and I have to tell you once again how wonderful, cozy, juicy, brilliant these books are. And of course they are more significant as comments upon American culture than any scholarly tomes with which the repressed further repress themselves within university walls.

You published an experience of mine under the heading of "Great American Terlets" in the book Juice, I believe. Have been intending to give you more of my experiences as a denizen of men's rooms.

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Scene #1: Hunter College, NYC. Long L-shaped toilet. Enter by short leg and a line of booths stretches down. Glory hole booth on the end.

I 'm 6' 2", light skinned, 45-year-old black.

I enter glory hole booth and wait.

A young, short, dark-haired white kid enters. Looks about 19. I look through hole, see nothing happening. Concentrate on jerking off, eyes closed. I hear rustling in adjoining booth but pay no attention. Finally peek through, staring into an eye. He stands up. Has taken off his pants, unbuttoned his shirt. This deliciously nasty boy has piled his school books neatly on far side of booth, pulled down his jock strap, and leaned back against the wall to jerk off.

After a bit he kneels down again to get a look at me. I stand up and jerk off. Then he opens the door of his booth and stands in front of mine, gesturing for me to open up.

I do. He immediately goes down on me. To my surprise a similar scene is going on down the way. A tall, skinny, sandy-haired white student is on his knees before another younger white guy, really slurping on his cock. The cocksucker on his knees is pumping his own big hard tool in rhythm with his tongue worship of the younger guy.

My cocksucker really goes to work on me, playing with himself, slurping all the way down my seven inches, tonguing his way back up the shaft and around the head. I tell him I'm close and he increases speed and really goes for it. I begin to pump a goodly load down his throat and he gets really serious out sucking. Pumps.me dry and grabs my balls and won't let go. Sucks out last few drops and lets me pull away.

Before I can say thanks, he turns around and walks down to the other two guys. Mind you, he has no pants on, his shirt is open and his dick is at attention-- in a public toilet at Hunter College.

He plops down on his knees and starts sucking the cocksucker, who gives up his dick to him. I go back in the booth to get myself together, etc. When I emerge my cocksucker is on his knees alternating the two cocks in his mouth. The original cocksucker gets the most attention, and he has a truly noble shaft which is stiff as a cucumber.

The other, younger guy, who seems a bit nervous, is getting his balls played with and, occasionally, his small dick swallowed.

I watch and wait so as not to disturb the scene. My cocksucker steps up his pace and the guy he's working on arches his back and-- it's Showtime in the T-room. The guy shoots his load with lots of grunts and groans but my original cocksucker just gets serious. No sounds, just increased speed, concentration, and, again, he grabs the balls and won't let go until he is satisfied.

When he's done he immediately switches over to the other guy and, of course, you guessed it, the door opens. We all scramble for cover.

I flush, then come out to leave and see a young guy at the urinal. I leave and turn to look back when I'm down the hallway. Sadly, the young guy who was about to be tongue worshipped by that courageous young cocksman is right behind me. Probably scared, he ran down the stairs ahead of me and out of the building.

Sad, sad. Those were the pre-AIDS days when cocksuckers were crawling over each other in those johns.

I've since gone back to check them out. All the glory holes sealed. Timid guys peek through little peep holes. Air heavy with fear instead of lust. No scenes. No action. No sex. They're winning, I'm afraid. AIDS is destroying our breakthroughs. Anti-sexual America wins another.

Scene #2: Another T-room in another university. It's still active so no names.

I check; out big, main T-room in basement of student union. No action, except... a tall, ordinary looking dark-haired white kid walks in, takes a piss and then leaves casting a blank glance at me sitting in a booth with the door open.

I wait some more. No action at all. Desert my post. But ... on the way out decide to check out a small upstairs john. Nothing ever happened there but I often thought it would work well for cocking around if the right people ever collided.

Enter, sit in single booth. Shortly thereafter someone else comes in and goes to the urinal nearby. Can't see through crack in door but when the urinal user extends his stay I decide to open the door and check him out.

You guessed it. It's the kid from downstairs. And he leans back to allow me a true whopper. About eight inches. I immediately beckon him to booth, etc. He shows the cock some more and starts toward the booth only to hesitate, start to wash hands and zip up.

No way, as far as I'm concerned. I come out of the booth, grab his crotch while he's drying his hands and pulling away. I assure him that I just want to give him a fantastic blow job, that he has only to lay back and enjoy.

In good straight-male fashion he responds to this exploitive approach to sex and picks up his backpack and enters my booth.

Now I didn't mention the best part yet. He's wearing a plain white T-shirt and dark blue shorts with an insignia on them which reads "St. John of the Cross Catholic Boys High." These are not your fancy designer shorts with all sorts of nips and tucks. They're the plain little stretch shorts of light cotton cloth, much beloved by the brothers, no doubt, because of the way they highlight crotches.

My biggest thrill was pulling down those Roman Catholic shorts. Underneath is another bonus. Cheap, shiny polyester briefs, with a really tasteless color design; something that would only be chosen by a member of the working class trying to desert his heritage under the tutelage of the Roman Perverts. He tugs those down himself and I slurp up the dick.

He lurches back against the wall, thrusting his crotch forward, really giving up the dick to me. I proceed to swallow it. I actually have about eight inches of cock down throat.

I thrust all the way forward until my lips are in his pubic hairs and I just stay that way. I begin working my tongue, and get the idea to see what effect swallowing action will have on him and on me. Can I do that and not gag? Well, discovery, when you swallow with a big cock down your throat your mouth automatically tends to open a bit and you breathe in. The cock in the throat seemed to open up the passage and so no gagging. Just undulating, moist flesh and tongue caressing a divine shaft.

He stood still, then began to shiver and turn his head from side to side and murmur something I couldn't understand.

He pressed his hands against the wall behind him and thrust his cock forward. This messed the action up for a moment but I discovered I could open my mouth wider and get the dick into my throat tighter. Gradually I began to slurp back and forth, eventually going all the way up to the head then slurping all the way back down.

I licked, sucked, tongued, ate, swallowed for a good 20 minutes non-stop, which is a long blow job for a young guy like this.

As he got hotter I grabbed his balls but suddenly he pulled out and said, "I'm gonna shoot it!"

Not to be outdone, I jumped up and grabbed him around the waist and grabbed the cock in my hand. This threw him off balance a bit so he was leaning back against the wall with his cock thrust forward. I started jerking him and he recovered enough to put his hands on the wall in front of him, lean on them, and stand on tiptoe. This too made his balance precarious. I jerked a bit and the cum started.

Since he didn't seem to.want to put it in my mouth, I let the first couple of spurts go by, but the lush, bright abundance of the ropey spunk got me really hot and I bent over and thrust the dick in my mouth, pumping all the time. Still holding him around the waist, I was now in complete control of his body since he was off balance and ejaculating in big heaves. He put one arm down on my shoulder as if to push my head away and I just shrugged it off and went all the way down on the dick, grabbing his balls the while.

I got one last tasty spurt of chunky, well salted, dick nectar, then a dribble of clear liquid, then I came off the cock.

He caught his breath and stood up, eyes a bit wild. The dick was dripping so I put my mouth under the sticky stream and he pulled away, as if revolted. So much for Roman, lower middle class arrogance. I grabbed his dick and got a good tight hold on it and thrust it back in my mouth. He tried to push me away but I held on. Fuck the bourgeoisie! Fuck sexual "niceness"! Any religion, class, or grouping which can cause a kid to think of spunk as distasteful or bad has really fucked things up. And I want to do my bit to set things right.

After a bit, I got off the dick. He stood there gasping for a bit, then he leaned over to pull his underwear and shorts up.

I bent down and pulled them up for him, restoring his crotch to its former look of innocence.

He smiled and thanked me. Reached for his backpack and the door handle. Then leaned over and kissed me full on the mouth. Hope is not lost. The Church has lost one, maybe.

I have lots more to report-- T-room sex over a period of 30 years, sex in the old vespasiennes on the streets of Paris, endless glory hole action, porn movie house scenes. The 16-year-old who asked, "If I blow you will you let me take your piss after?" Groping by the Catholic priest. Hand jobs given and received on the back platform of one of the old Parisian buses. All that for another time. Keep up the good work. **

Editor's Note: This man is an inspiring role model as well as a great belletrist. I want more of his memoirs but can't ask for them; he didn't sign his name and address. - B. McD.

Excerpted from Lewd, Boyd McDonald's 12th volume of true sex histories.

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.