Sex Histories	Sex Histories Archive

Los Angeles-- I met a guy on the phone lines that I continued to see 10 or 12 times afterwards.

I was on the group line listening to about six guys lying about their bodies and their ages and trying to butch-up for each other for a few minutes two of them were actually talking about a film they'd both seen, so I just said, plainly, "Anyone in LA want a blow-job?"

Well you could have cut the silence with a knife; the two film critics were appalled. The silence continued for awhile until I heard a guy say, "Who said that?" I spoke up again and made the offer once more, and he said, "I do." Well I gave him my number and he called right back.

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We talked for a bit about what we looked like and what we wanted; he described himself like a Greek God, and I'm thinking to myself, "Oh surrrrre." Well as we talked and each of us started to get more and more turned on, I started to reveal more and more of my nasty desires.

I told him that I'd always fantasized about leaving my front door unlocked and giving someone my address then be waiting for him naked, on my back, on the bed, seemingly asleep, and have him walk in and use my face and mouth for anything he wanted.

He liked that idea a lot, so I asked if he got real kinky, to which he replied, "like what?" So I said that when he comes into the bedroom he could feel free to take his clothes off, climb up on the bed, and squat his asshole on my mouth so that I would awaken to the smell of his shit hole on my lips.

He liked that idea too, and by that point of the conversation he had begun to realize that I probably wouldn't be grossed out by much of anything, so he told me to have an empty glass next to the bed, and I thought to myself; "Oh yeah, baby, a guy who describes himself as looking like Lorenzo Lamas, and who wants me to eat out his ass, suck his dick, and be open to the possibility of some hot piss-- this is too good to be true."

So I gave him my address and described the house (and you're thinking "big mistake, right?) and laid down on the bed and waited.

Oh, I forgot to tell you that he suggested I wear a blindfold and he would take it off when he thought it was time.

Well about a half-hour later I heard the door open and my heart was racing, and I was a little bit scared, too. He closed the front door and came into the bedroom. I knew he was standing there looking at my naked blindfolded body and sizing me up. Even though I have always been proud of my body-- and at that moment, that summer, it was in really great shape, tight, defined tan, and bleached-- I still remember being a little worried that he might turn around and walk out.

I heard him right next to my head beside the bed and then heard him pick up the glass, and I'm thinking, "Naw, he's not really going to do this," but sure enough I heard the splash of a pretty heavy gusher filling the glass, and I mean he really filled the glass to the brim. He then just put the glass down, climbed up on the bed, and put a foot on either side of my head, and sat his asshole down on my lips.

He had the most perfect-smelling asshole I've ever had the pleasure of ramming my nose in. Hot, sticky, hairy, with just the right amount of residue from his last, obviously firm healthy dump. I swear I've never eaten an asshole with such complete abandonment as I did his. I must have been sniffing, licking, sucking, tasting his asshole for about ten minutes, at which point he swiveled his body around, never taking his hole off my mouth, so that his cock and balls were resting on my forehead, and took my blindfold off saying, "I want to see your eyes while you're eating my ass."

Well, he wasn't lying he was a God, and yes, he did look like Lorenzo Lamas and his body was tanned and as hard as a rock. His face was gorgeous!

When I looked into his hazel eyes and saw his thick pouting lips, I knew that I would do anything this guy asked me. I guess he saw my eyes kind of roll back in my head when I looked into his, and he gave me a half smile. Well if there was anything I said I wouldn't do for him, it was out the window when he smiled.

Then he said, "Why don't you drink my piss while it's still hot?" Up to this point, I had thought about drinking piss, even played around with some guys who were into it, but I'd never been face-to-face with a God holding a huge glass of his hot piss in my hands. I was a bit revolted by the idea, even though I'd jacked off thousands of times thinking about it, and had promised this guy I would do it. But there he was standing over me now, jacking on his fat cock (even that was perfect, eight inches, thick and perfectly straight with a big shiny head). I lifted the glass to my lips and sniffed it hoping it wasn't going to be real thick and strong. The color was pale yellow. I looked into his eyes and took a big gulp, the glass was still very warm, I didn't think I would have been able to drink cold piss. It didn't taste like much of anything, a little salty and a combination of tea and real weak broth. When I saw his look of disbelief and the smile appear on his face when I swallowed, I was hooked. I took another gulp, then another, and all the time he was stroking his huge cock. I was so into him that I finished the entire glass and could have drunk more. When I was done he said, "Next time I want you to drink it right out of my dick."

Our scene went on for about another hour-and-a-half and consisted of me slurping on his cock, licking his balls, and eating out his tight asshole, during which at one point he was pushing out so hard to open his hole up so he could get more of my tongue inside that he farted right in my mouth and I swear a small chunk of shit came out.

I don't know what happened to the piece of shit, if I swallowed it down without knowing it or if it was on the bed next to my head, but I think I must have eaten it because it wasn't in the bed when he left. I remember him saying, "Sorry, I didn't know if you might like that or not." I ate his ass with him sitting on my face while he beat his cock, then he lifted off, put his cock head in my mouth, and fed me a creamy load. He left after giving me his phone number. We got together a lot after that, usually real late at night after he had come home from his evening, and always at his place, a guesthouse in the back of someone else's house.

When I arrived I was always to begin the same way; I would slide open his door, he would be in his bed on his stomach pretending to be asleep, I would crawl under the covers and sniff his asshole through his white jockeys. I'd then pull them down, and begin eating his asshole.

The first part of eating an asshole is always the best when all the smell and stickiness is still there. I always try to get the smell on my face so I can sniff it while I drive home.

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.