"Dear Sir" Part 1 by Sean Maguire seanmaguire@techie.com
When I was 18 years old I was living in Austin, Texas. It was the summer between my first and second years of college. I lived in an apartment near campus, and worked full time in a pizza parlor. I had had a girlfriend in high school, but for whatever reason I just could not seem to make a relationship work with a woman. More and more I began to accept the fact that I was undeniably attracted to guys. And not just any guys, but older men. Finally I decided that I simply had to try it and see whether it was truly what I wanted, so I placed a personal ad in the mean seeking men section of the local entertainment weekly.
"18 GWM HWP disease-free seeks older dominant man."
This was back before internet and smart phone with hook-up sites and dating apps. Once placed an ad, and people wishing to contact the ad placer would mail in their letters to the newspaper who would then forward them to the ad placer. So I placed this small ad just to see what kind of response I would get.
Two weeks later I received a large envelope with 63 responses. About a week later I received a second envelope with 56 more responses.
One in particular stood out for its sheer directness. It was hand-written, short and to the point, and essentially said "when I read your ad, it made me horny. I really want to meet you." The word "really" was underlined. From the handwriting I guess that this guy had at most a high school diploma.
I wrote back the following letter.
Dear Sir,
Think about all the nasty naughty things that you want to do with a younger male. Imagine being in total control of the situation, and training a younger male to be your horny little pet. Feel your cock begin to twitch and throb at the thought of forcing young boy to submit to your will, to your every desire. As aroused as these thoughts make you, I want to assure you that I am ten times as aroused just thinking about an older man, rough and domineering, turning me out.
I was 10 years old when I began to grow pubic hair and stared noticing that my young cock would stiffen for no reason. I had not yet discovered masturbation, but I had noticed that if I pressed my stiff young penis against a soft pillow, it was pleasurable.
One afternoon when I was bored and horny, I found a book in my father's library titled "Sex in History." I skimmed its pages until I found the chapter on ancient Greece and found photographs of ancient Greek pottery that somehow survived all these years later. The pottery depicted a bearded man in a toga seated. Standing before him was a naked boy. He had a smaller frame and no body hair. The man's arm was extended and his hand was wrapped around the boy's scrotum. Their eyes were locked on each other.
As soon as I saw this picture, something in my mind clicked, and I felt arousal. I took the book back to my bedroom, closed the door, stripped naked, and climbed into bed. I stared at the picture of the man and the boy, and imagined the conversation between them as the man squeezed the boy's balls. By this point my own cock was stiff and begging for attention, so I reached down and started to rub and stroke it as I continued to gaze at the picture and let my hormone-fueled imagination run wild. Eventually I experienced orgasm, and shot a copious amount of cum. I had learned how to give myself pleasure. Later that night before going to sleep I again opened the book, turned to that page, pulled out my erect cock, and stared at the picture while stroking myself and imagining that I was that lucky boy in the picture. Again I brought myself to orgasm.
From that moment on I developed the routine of masturbating three times (at least) per day: once in the morning when I woke up, again as soon as I came home from school, and finally at night before I went to sleep. And each time I touched myself, I focused on the picture, and I fantasized about what it would be like to drop to my knees and suck an older man's cock, what it would feel like to be taken doggy-style, of feeling an older man thrusting his hard throbbing cock into my tight little boy-pussy until it explodes and releases cum inside me.
As I continued to grow into adolescence, I found myself in a state of perpetual arousal, always thinking about how much I wanted to hook up with an older man. I found myself having to masturbate four or five times a day just to relieve the tension. The weekends gave me more time to practice my dirty little habit. I remember being able to bring myself to orgasm ten times in one day. I figure that I have reached orgasm some 13,000 times in my life – each time thinking about being in bed with an older man. The association in my mind between pleasure and serving an older man is quite strong.
I also began shaving off my pubic hair and all the hair around my asshole. Eventually I began using Nair to remove all that nasty pubic hair. My crotch remains smooth and hairless.
I'm nearly 19 years old now, and I am horny all the time. I've never had sex with a man, but I know from reading books how to prepare my body for sex with a sex. 48 hours before meeting up with him, I will stop eating solid food. I will take in only milk, juice, water, and protein drinks. A couple hours before meeting up with him, I will give myself a series of deep enemas to flush out completely my bowels. I will then insert a suppository and use an applicator to inject a large amount of lubricant into my ass. In this way my little boy-pussy will be cleaned, lubed, and ready to service an older man's lust.
I want you to call me and tell me where and when to meet. It should be a public park. I will be wearing a red t-shirt. We'll meet and talk and size each other up. If you like what you see, then invite me back to your place.
Once we are safe behind your locked doors, what happens next is pretty much up to you. Perhaps you will want me to strip and stand before you for inspection, maybe turn around, bend over and spread my cheeks. Perhaps you will take a seat and have me stand in front of you so that you can grip my balls and inform me of The Rules. You might order me to drop to my knees and suck your hard twitching penis. What if I said, "No, I don't fuck on the first date"? How would you react? Will you spin me around and place a black leather dog's collar attached to a leash around my neck? Will you force me down to my hands and knees or flat on my belly while picking up your belt in order to discipline your new boy? Will you whip your new boy's ass as you talk to him in a rough and nasty manner, calling him derogatory words? As you whip and spank him, will you inform him that his new name is "Cunt," and that from now on he must learn to answer to it? What if he refuses to accept his new slave name? Will you continue to whip his ass with your belt as you ask, "What is your name, Cunt?" until at least you break his will and he says, "Cunt, my name is Cunt"?
Will you then plop your entre weight on me and push my ass-cheeks apart as you slowly ram your powerful engorged cock into my pink virgin fuck-hole? Will you pull back on that leash as you thrust deeper into my wet little boy-pussy as you continue to talk dirty and press your mouth against my ear so that you can spew that stream of filthy talk directly into my brain? Imagine fucking me doggy-style, thrusting your hard horny cock deep into my little pink fuck-hole and you yank back on that leash and spank me on the ass while calling me "cunt," "pussy," "slut," "whore," "horny little bitch," "faggot," and "punk." All the while I am nodding and agreeing with everything you say, moaning, "yes, sir."
Just imagine sliding your throbbing rod deep into my tight, wet, hungry cunt. Imagine the muscles of my little boy-pussy squeezing your erect penis, trying to milk out its cream, as I moan and squeal like a little girl. Imagine how good it will feel when you finally shoot your cum inside me, slap my ass, and say, "that's it, bitch, your pussy belongs to me now."
So then you relax and pull out and order your new botch to go to the fridge and get you a beer. Now you're lying back relaxed and drinking your beer. You yank on the leash.
"Yes, sir?" says your boy.
"Cunt," you say, "take my cock into your mouth."
"Yes, sir," says your boy.
The boy opens his mouth for your penis, and begins to lick it and suck it as you guzzle your beer. Your new bitch doesn't quite realize it yet, but it's going to be a long fun weekend as you train him to be the perfect submissive little pet.
I mailed it directly to his address, a PO Box.
Two days later I received a phone call. The voice was deep and rough sounding. He told me to meet him the next day at a certain park on the east side of town. He gave me specific directions to follow once I was in the park.
"And listen, boy, don't be late," he said.
"I'll be there on time," I answered.
I showed up at the park at the given time, and followed his instructions to a wooded area near the river. He was waiting for me. I cycled up and introduced myself. Paul was a big bear of a man who weighed 280 lbs. By contrast, I was an avid cyclist with a sleek toned body who weighed in at 170 lbs. I noticed a couple of tattoos on his massive biceps. He was in his mid-40s and had that hard steely look in his eye, but his smile was genuine as he shook my hand. We sat at a stone table and talked for a few minutes. The differences between us were stark. He was a construction worker who had grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. I was a college boy who grew up in the tony neighborhood River Oaks in Houston. He had just been released from prison where he had served 4 years for distribution of a controlled substance (marijuana and cocaine).
"What I'm telling you is this," Paul said as he dropped his voice and his steady gaze met mine. "They don't allow conjugal visits in the joint. There I was doing three to seven years and I had been cut off from my supply of pussy. Well when you're on the inside and horny, you make do with what you get. You understand?"
"Yes," I gulped.
"Good," he said. "Because I have a high sex drive, and in the joint I found an outlet in couple of boys about your age. The first one I was able negotiate an arrangement. I gave him cigarettes and protection from the other inmates, especially the niggers."
What he was talking about was so far beyond anything in my world. All I could do was listen in rapt attention.
"But then he was released from prison," he said. "So I had to find another punk. He was a new inmate, a boy barely old enough to shave. He got popped for possession of 12 lbs. with intent to distribute, and ended up in my wing. My wing was dominated by the Aryan Brotherhood."
He pointed to one of the tattoos on his arm.
"One of the other members of the Brotherhood also wanted him as his punk, so we played a game of chess to determine who got him."
"When it came time to claim my winnings, the boy refused to accept the outcome at first," he said. "But in the end I turned him out, and he enjoyed his role."
"What I'm saying is that I developed a taste for fucking boy-pussy," he said. "So right now I'm horny and you're looking really good to me."
His penetrating male gaze bore straight into me. I was aroused, and the bulge in my shorts was obvious.
"So let's go back to my place," he said. "Put your bike in the bed of my truck, I live just a few minutes away."
We went back to his place and experienced what I had previously only fantasized and written about.
It was 100 times hotter than what I had experienced.
THE END