No Old Trolls
I read these words from some twenty five year old crying out to have someone give him anal. I thought to myself what a different time we live in. Back when I was twenty you met men furtively in parks and under bathroom stalls for what you hoped would be getting to see another guy's dick, maybe a touch or if things went really well a blowjob. You ran big risks; not only from cops or security but also that you'd make a mistake and make a pass at a straight guy who would flip out. You could get the living daylights beat out of you for that kind of foul up.
The idea of opening your legs to receive a guy's dick up the ass was unfamiliar; you fantasized about dicks but not the idea of taking one up the backside. We had guys in school who I now know were gay but I was so naïve I couldn't figure out why they were so popular. The girls loved them—I was so jealous, but now I realize they were considered to be just like one of the girls to the others.
My discovery that I liked the other white meat than pork came soon after I had my first sex with a girl. I was almost nineteen years old. A friend's girl who was also nineteen had broken up. I was hanging out for companionship with her and another guy. I was using her as the safety screen to hide behind which allowed me to be very near him. He'd ride me around on his motorcycle and I loved putting my arms around his waist so close to his dick to hang on. He had a nice dick that I saw once in the shower when we went swimming at a friends house. He had this unusual laugh, an extra loud hiccup of a laugh that went like Hyup, Hyup, Hyup which made going to comedy movies pretty embarrassing. I was too busy reading the outline of his jeans to mind. Yet he seemed clueless so I was unable to figure out a way to go further.
The girl we hung out with had her own place. I was hanging out watching a late night movie alone with her and made advances which she didn't reject. She was quite heavy-set but I was so frustrated from never actually getting to make love she was my target. The next day we went to my house and in front of her my brother confronted me since he saw our attraction. He said "so are you two boyfriend and girlfriend" and I was embarrassed and stammered, "not really yet". She was very hurt and though we stayed friends it was never the same. She married my friend and little was ever said about it again. She even introduced me to my future wife.
Soon after the abortive affair I was seduced by a much older male co-worker. We were riding around doing work things and he kept making suggestive remarks like "blow me", "fuck me running", and "God I'm horny" and he spent a lot of time rubbing his dick in plain sight. We all worked together in an office with other people. The light in my head dawned that he was coming on to me. I looked at him and he looked at me. There is a point in any male attraction where you both drop your guard and go for it. We adjourned to a fold down couch that was in the back room; nobody else was in the office that day. He orally introduced me to man love right there on that two- tone fold-down naughahyde couch and I was hooked.
This was a one-time thing. We would meet again later and talk like old friends about the culture but he was a mentor to me who I could bounce ideas off of. It was the framework for a lifetime of guys meeting, hooking up and then moving on; like two travelers meeting on the trail.
I soon married and thought that marriage would satisfy these strange desires that I felt for men. That lasted for a while until one day when my wife was waiting for me outside the men's room at a JC Penney's. I was stuck with the handicapped stall and the seat was hooked up to the flush valve. When you stood up it automatically flushed. That was fine but the problem was the sanitary paper gasket that you put down to sit on. Every time I would sit down on it the darn thing would flush away the paper seat cover before I could land my butt on it. I tried about three times. By the third time I was frustrated to the point of amusement so I began to laugh. I finally landed on one that I managed to keep in place. Gathering my focus for the job ahead I realized that there was a foot extended from the other side of the stall, and the foot was tapping. Feeling a little confused about what that meant, I read the scrawl on the stall wall that said "tap foot for sex". Ah ha, that is what he is interested in. I tapped back. The foot stopped tapping, slid closer and began to tap again. I tapped again. Now the foot touched all the way under the stall wall, right up against my shoe. I sat there watching. I knew something was going on but I didn't know what to do. A hand extended under the wall and rubbed my bare leg above my pants. Then a finger reached under the wall and beckoned me.
I realized this fellow wanted me to have sex, I got down and was helped into position by his hands and he stroked my penis, the touch felt electric. He rubbed a few moments and then I felt something completely different as his mouth enveloped my dick. It was warm and wet and he slid all the way up against my pubes with me inside him. I was completely erect, his hands were around my balls gently and one hand was behind them touching that skin fold that runs from them back toward my backside.
My wife had never imagined giving me something like this; she gave oral sex kind of like some people eat ears of corn. She worked up and down my dick using way too many teeth and in fact had a jaw problem that we later had to treat called TMJ. That once corrected allowed her to open her mouth fully but in the early days it was rough.
The fellow under the stall had hairy legs, he had one up against my leg as he blew me with great softness; tenderness that was amazing. He would let my dick out of his mouth for a moment and stroke which made me strain forward to get him to resume the sucking. In fact if I could be sucked off the rest of my life like this I would die a very happy man. My heart was pounding and I could scarcely hear a thing, just the waves of feeling that flowed through every fiber of my body. Then he'd go right back up on my dick with his lips-- so gentle, now that I think about it he was flicking his tongue on that most sensitive under part of my penis head. His mouth felt like my dick was inside a soft, wet, velvet-filled rubber ball that gently absorbed my manhood, leading, encouraging; needing my climax.
I realize now that we were linked together in that moment, he was giving, I was taking. In another blink of time it was reversed, I was giving, and he was taking. Still with my dick in his mouth I totally lost it, erupted into his mouth, ropes and ropes of snowy white sperm. He gulped down every drop.
In later sessions other men would let it shoot right on the floor but this fellow took it all. Some guys torture you afterward with their mouth, holding on too long, forcing your dick along like a wayward step child using a Hoover vacuum cleaner on you. My unseen friend this time let me go just beyond the edge of perfection and I collapsed like a burst balloon on the other side of the wall. As outside sounds returned to me he left. I never saw him again; never saw him that time but I owe him a debt.
In just a moment I realized that the rest of my life was still waiting outside the door. I pasted my sorry ass back together, legs still wobbling and went outside to my wife. She was perceptive enough to know I was taking forever but she could never connect what it all meant so she soon forgot and we moved on. I learned that day what I had inklings of before, I was bisexual and I can control the act but not the feeling. I can make love to a woman, be thinking about the man, then mount the man and be thinking about the woman, just everything turns me on. I'm not deviant, I spent years being told just how bad I was by this or that measure.
My wife finally forced the truth out of me; incorrectly labeled me as gay and dumped me thirty years later. I had kids and a life. Now I sit waiting and some young guys would call me an old troll.
I love to give blowjobs and do sixty nine. It seems like there is a great divide of men in the life we live. I am fifty something. For some reason my age bracket is very inactive. There is a crowd in their sixties that chase you and there is a crowd that is twenty to thirty that seems to either like to tease you or when times are tough they do you. Why do they call you a troll, which is an insult and then call you to fuck them in the ass? Call me confused.
When I do it with a young guy I am reminded of my first time and I try to make it very good "star sex" for them. These guys seem to really focus on them getting anal sex from me. I don't mind anal sex as a giver but I have never received. I practice safe sex and frankly anal is a step further than I am really into. I can do it but a blowjob is fine. I try to remove that "take it in the ass now punk" sensation that lots of pornography seems to program us for. I don't care a lot for that part anyway since it is risky and way too dramatic for my tastes.
A lot of guys seem to prefer hookups like some kind of sex machine; you'll receive texts at 3:30 in the morning. These guys want no talk, they want no kisses and to give them a feeling that they will remember as different and won't feel it is dirty is very hard to do. I never answer these texts till later in the day since I think they just have blue balls from their girlfriend.
If they do contact me later and we get together I show them how to pace themselves. I show them that they heighten their own sexual experience by sucking me as I suck them, the energy flow that just goes between the two of us, how to play safe in risky times. I try to help them to understand when someone calls you a name like troll it hurts and create some sensitivity. I don't have to believe it myself. Someday I believe it will be enough just to remember but even trolls have feelings. The ability may fade but the desire continues on.