This story is completely true and accurate, or at least as best as I can remember it almost 25 years later...
I'd always been a small kid, more brains than brawn. From junior high through early high school I was very insecure, awkward, out of place. But midway through high school I was introduced to drugs – pot, acid, coke – and suddenly I didn't feel so uncomfortable all of the time. I felt hip and cool and less like an outsider. But it turns out I have an addictive personality, and pretty soon I was high all the time. I was smart enough and had enough structure at home to coast through high school. But when I moved away to college, living in the dorms, with no restrictions on my behavior, I really lost it...getting high pretty much 24/7, going weeks without showing up to class. It is not surprising at all that the year ended with me back at my parents' house, having flunked out of school.
Of course, I hadn't learned my lesson yet and was still getting high all the time. Eventually my parents, in an act of tough love, kicked me out of the house.
The next couple of weeks were spent couch surfing with friends (or, more accurately, drug buddies), but eventually their goodwill was all used up and I was on my own. Having no money and not knowing what to do, I asked one of my drug buddies what he had done when he'd been homeless a few months prior. He said that the state had converted on of the old prison buildings into a homeless shelter at night, where they would give you a sandwich for dinner and a cot to sleep on. That sounded like a pretty shitty option, but being it was my only option, I walked the 6 miles there and arrived that night, too late for supper, but just in time for bed.
Even though I was 19, I was still very small. And despite having spent a few years in the drug culture, I was a relatively sheltered, naïve, innocent kid, with lots of book smarts but very little in the way of street smarts. I was a smart kid from a pretty nice middle-class family; I'd never had to fend for myself before. So being in this old prison building at lights out, laying in a tiny cot in a cold dark room surrounded by about 10 or 15 rough, dirty, homeless men, I was feeling extremely vulnerable and scared. I really felt like I was in prison, that I was the "fresh meat" at the mercy of these big, rough strangers.
My fear must have been extremely obvious to the guy who was in the bed next me. After it had been lights out for about 30 minutes, and most everyone seemed to have fallen asleep, he whispered over to me "hey, are you ok?" I told him I was fine, but we both knew that wasn't the case. The first thing he said to me after that was "don't worry, you're going to be ok" and for some reason I felt instantly better. I didn't know him from the guy on the other side of me, but just the way he said it, and the warm look in his eye when I got up the courage to look him in the face made me feel a lot calmer, like I was safe, like he would protect me.
Even though we were in the middle of a crowded room, we were able to talk quietly while everyone else slept. We talked for a long time about ourselves and how we had gotten to where we were tonight. His name was Dan; he was 52 years old, a Vietnam Vet who had been an electrician. He'd always been a drinker, but when his wife passed away a couple of years earlier, he basically became a full-blown alcoholic and cokehead. His drinking and coke habit had driven away his family and cost him his savings and his house. He'd been homeless and staying at the shelter for about 2 months.
We talked for hours, with him telling me what the routine was like there (they would bus us out to the city every morning, and then bus us back to the shelter only at night), how he spent his days, stuff about our pasts, and so forth. At one point we started talking about sex. When talking about sex with people back then I would usually lie and tell them about the girlfriends I'd had in high school who I'd had sex with. But the reality was that I was still a virgin. And it wasn't like I'd just not had sex; I had only made out with a couple of girls, and had never even gotten to second base or had anyone ever rub my dick through my pants, let alone touch it bare. I was of course very embarrassed about my lack of experience, which is why I always would lie about it, but with Dan I felt so safe that I had no problem at all being completely truthful. When I told him that no one had ever touched my dick before, let alone sucked it or had it inside of me, he told me he was bisexual, that he thought I was attractive, and that if I wanted he would stroke my dick and even suck it.
To this point of my life I'd been completely straight; I don't believe I'd ever thought about sex with guys at all. And when he said it I was completely shocked; maybe it would have been obvious to anyone else that this offer was going to be made, but for me it was totally unexpected. But pretty quickly, it went through my mind: I'm homeless, I'm lying in a cot surrounded by a bunch of smelly dirty guys, I have no friends, no money, no home, I'm a 19 year old virgin...why the hell not? What else do I have to lose? At least it would feel good to have someone touch and maybe even suck my dick, even if it is a 52 year old guy rather than some girl I had a crush on in the dorm...
We went off to the bathroom, which was a large public bathroom but obviously empty with everyone asleep. Still, to be safe, we went into a stall and locked it. He sat down on the toilet seat while I stood in front of him. In the light for the first time I could see him clearly; he looked like a man who had been decent looking when he was younger, but the alcohol and drugs made him look a bit ravaged and older than his years. Still, I was excited. I was tingling from nerves, both still from the lingering fear and uncertainty of the entire situation, the fear that someone would come in at any moment and catch us, and of course from the uncertainty of what it would be like to have a guy play with my cock. But I was more horny than anything else at that point; my virgin dick, which had only felt my hand before this, was rock hard in my jeans.
Clearly my erection was obvious through my pants, because he ran his fingers along the outline of my cock for a few minutes before unbuttoning them. Even that felt amazing, my cock felt electric. When he pulled his pants down he saw I had a big wet precum spot in the front of my underwear which he leaned forward and licked, making me moan as I felt his tongue brushing my underwear right on the head of my cock. He peeled my underwear down and my 6" cock sprang straight out. He looked up at me and told me I had a very nice cock, which made me feel proud and sexy. He stroked the shaft a little bit and ran his hands around my cock and balls and thighs, making me moan more (I kept as quiet as I could) and making more precum leak from the head. After a few minutes he stuck his tongue out to lick up the precum and swirled his tongue around it, making me feel weak in the knees. He then opened my mouth, grabbed my ass, and pulled me into him, taking my cock instantly down his throat. It was unlike anything I'd ever felt before, the wet warmth of his mouth, and I don't think I lasted more than 30 seconds before I was grabbing the back of his head and shooting my cum down his throat. He kept me inside him as I came, swallowing my load, and even after, my cock throbbing in his mouth, my eyes rolling back inside my head, my mind flooded with pleasure I'd never felt before.
After a few minutes, when I returned back to earth, he finally took my cock out of his mouth and stood up. Immediately I felt a very overwhelming feeling of warmth and gratitude to him, and I threw my arms around him, buried my face in his chest and hugged him tightly. I felt safe. I felt protected. A few hours I had felt completely alone and scared and unloved, but now I felt like I had someone who cared for me, someone who would take care of me. The way he hugged me back tight, so strong, so warm, let me know that he felt it to, that he wanted to protect and care for me. I needed a daddy to protect me and he wanted a boy to protect, and somehow we had found each other here.
Another thing I could feel as we hugged each other tightly for several minutes was that Daddy's cock was hard. Even though I'd never even considered touching a guy's cock before, I had a sudden, serious desire to see his, touch his, and maybe even taste his. I wanted to make him feel good. I wanted to show him how good he made me feel. I wanted more than I had wanted anything before to make him feel good.
I sat down on the toilet seat like he had, and looked up into his face to see surprise that soon turned into a big grin. I rubbed the front of pants like he had me, and could feel how thick he was. I fumbled with the button and zipper, wanting to see his cock so bad. When I took it out I couldn't believe how big the head was...although his cock in general was pretty large, the head looked gigantic, so pink and swollen. I was mesmerized by it, hypnotized. Feeling an urge like I'd never felt before, I leaned forward so I could kiss it. I gave it a big kiss and started licking all over it, tasting his thin, salty precum which I hated for about half a second but then loved. I tried to suck him but didn't really know how, and I could only take a tiny bit in before I gagged. So I stroked his shaft with my hand I kissed and sucked and licked on the head until I felt him ready to cum. I wrapped my mouth around his head to swallow like he did me, but the first shot caught me by surprise in my throat and I pulled him out and took the rest on my face, stroking it all out of him, my fingers tight at the base to milk every drop. When he was done I gave him more big kisses on the head until he pulled me up for another hug.
As he held me tight, I whispered to him "I want to do that all the time" and he whispered back "oh, you will."
To be continued...
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