My first real gay experience happened in high school. Everybody in my friend group started smoking pot at about the same time, and I was pretty young. So when I got used to it, I didn't have a lot of money to go back on. A jock in my grade, Zack, would sell three grams of weed for $30, while I smoked three grams a week and got $20 per week in allowance. Eventually, between buying clothes, dates for my girl, and weed, I didn't have any money. One night, at a party in my neighborhood, I talked to Zack about my situation. I was drunk, so I don't remember the details, but I ended up sucking his cock in the hedges behind the house, and got a few grams for free. Neither of us mentioned it for over a week – then one day he suggested I "pay the same price as last time," when I went to pick up my usual.
I remember that first time very clearly. I met him in a third-floor washroom stall before biology. It smelled like piss. He was awkward, and avoided my eyes. He just stood there, looking away. I was surprised. I had been erect for the past hour in anticipation though, so I got on my knees and pulled down his shorts and boxers. He was rock hard. I took all of him in my mouth, again and again. He cummed really quick. I sucked him for maybe two minutes, then he blew. I spat it into the toilet, wiped my mouth, and he gave me 3 grams. This happened once a week for a few months. We wouldn't even acknowledge each other afterwards, but we both loved the arrangement. After a while, he would get me to meet him after gym, or his lacrosse games - these were the only times he was "available." The more we did it, the more he would get me to do things like lick his balls, and otherwise bury my face in his sweaty crotch. To be honest, I came to love it. I would get hard and stay hard, kneeling on the dirty floor of the high school washroom, tasting the salty sweat on his dick and balls. I sucked his cock for weed for about a year, until I got my first job at a golf course, by that point we both had girlfriends anyway.
I didn't see Zack for five years after graduating high school. One day, when I was back home in the summer, I was eating lunch in a park downtown. I saw him jogging by. He was wearing a blue pair of shorts and a white sleeve-less shirt. His hair was cut into a short brushcut. I could see his cock swinging behind the fabric of his shorts. I waved him over, and after a brief conversation, he suggested we catch up that afternoon. We went back to his parents' place, where he was staying while home from college.
His parents were at a friend's cottage, he told me when we entered. He said he was going to take a shower, and jogged upstairs. He went into the washroom and closed the door, I heard the tap come on. I already had a throbbing erection, leaking pre-cum into my boxers. I couldn't take it, something inside me broke. I rushed upstairs and knocked on the door. He called from inside.
"Fuck the shower man, I want a taste of the old days," I said.
There was a pause, then I heard the shower turn off. He opened the door. He was naked except for his tight, damp boxers. I could see the bulge of his cock. His well-defined muscles glistened with sweat. He had a funny look on his face. I walked in and shut the door behind me. I quickly stripped off my clothes while he watched and got on my knees. I pulled down his boxers. His cock was a bit bigger than I remembered, thick, veiny and slick with sweat. I took the head in my mouth.
I started circling the head slowly with my tongue and then began to take it deeper and deeper down my throat. He moaned and started to rock his hips back and forth, until soon I was gagging on his member.
"Don't forget the balls," he said quietly. I jerked his cock while a popped his balls in and out of my mouth. My slobber dangled in strands from his shaft. I stretched out my tongue and cleaned the sweat away from the corners of his scrotum.
When I'd licked all the sweat from his dick and balls, I unbuckled my pants, sat on my ass, and pulled down my boxers and jeans. While I was down there, I tongued his balls with my tongue. His eyes rolled in his head. When they were off, I got back on my knees and started to deepthroat him again. I gave him a playful look, sucked my finger, and stuck it in my asshole. I moaned around his cock, fingering myself.
"You little bitch," he said with a laugh.
"Want a turn?" I asked. I gave his cock one last swallow then turned around on all fours on the tile floor. Looking back at him, I spat in my palm and wiped it over my asshole.
"You asked for it," he replied laughing. He fingered me with one finger, and then two. Then he put on a condom he took out of a drawer, spat on his dick and stuck it in, really slow. I groaned and grabbed the toilet, feeling the warmth of him fill my ass. He froze with his dick shoved in all the way for almost a full minute, then began to slowly thrust in and out. After my experience in Montreal (see "The Banana Split"), this was almost relaxing, and I groaned with pleasure.
He reached over to his pile of sweaty clothes, grabbed one of his running shoes and placed it in front of me. Then he guided my head toward it with one strong hand. He pushed until my nose was in the shoe. It was still warm from his foot, and every breath I took filled my lungs with the stink of his feet. He plowed me like for a few minutes, then he grabbed one his dirty socks. He pulled my head back up by the hair, reached around and rubbed the sock all over my face until he found my mouth. I opened my teeth and let it in, then bit down on it. His feet smelled foul and tasted worse. I gagged but kept it in. He stuffed it all in then held his hand over my mouth to stop me from spitting it out, all while pushing his cock deep into my ass. The taste of his dirty foot-sweat filled my mouth. The sock was soaked, and I actually swallowed a mouthful of the salty liquid. He then grabbed his damp boxers and slipped them over my head. I couldn't see anything now. My other senses heightened. I could taste his feet even more, and I gagged again. His boxers covered my nose, so I could smell his ass and balls.
"How's that, you little whore?" he whispered. I grumbled around the sock stuffed in my mouth, and took a deep breath of the sweaty boxers covering my face.
After a while, my ass got numb to the latex condom, and eventually he pulled out and got me to sit on my hands. He moved the boxers so the button-fly was in front of my mouth. He unbuttoned it and pulled the sock out of my mouth. He then put his dick in my mouth, still wearing the condom.
"Take it off with your mouth," he commanded.
I tried. It took me a long time, and I had to take his dick so far to get to the end that I threw up a bit in my mouth and had to swallow it. I could taste my ass, and I could still smell his ass from the boxers over my face. I finally got the condom loose, slid it off with my lips, and held my mouth open with it sitting on my tongue.
"Good boy," he said, and plucked it off my tongue.
He had apparently cummed, since he dumped a load out of the condom into my open mouth. I looked in his eyes, closed my mouth and rolled it around with my tongue, then I swallowed it. He smiled. He asked me if I'd still been doing the "gay shit." I told him not really, except for what had happened in Montreal. He asked some questions, and I ended up telling him most of what had happened at John's apartment. He was amazed, but kept laughing in an immature homophobic way, gently stroking his cock. When he got hard again, I made a move towards his dick and he stopped me. He sat on the toilet and gestured for me to kneel next to him, then he pushed my head repeatedly down onto his dick. After a few minutes of his cock filling my throat, he took his hand from the back of my head.
"I can't cum again, but... If you're as dirty as you say, I've got something for you," he said.
Excited, and guessing (correctly) what was coming, I moved slowly into the open shower stall and knelt on the tiles. I had always fantasized about getting pissed on. He took his thick cock in his hand and pointed it at my face. I stretched out my tongue and had just licked the tip of his dick when the first spray started. The stream of piss shot right into the back of my throat, making me cough and sputter. He kept soaking my face and hair while I fought to catch my breath. When I regained composure, I tilted back my head and opened my mouth. I let him fill it, gargled his piss, then let it flow down my chest. The piss was extremely salty. He emptied his bladder onto my face. When he finished, he stood there slowly jerking his cock and looking at me with an amused smile. I felt degraded, and it made me even hornier. I couldn't help but jerk myself off, on my knees, dripping with piss, while Zack watched. I cummed and showered. We had coffee and some awkward conversation, then I left. I haven't seen him since.