I always seem to be either making the wrong choices or just plain manage to be in the wrong place at the right time or the right place at the wrong time, depending on your perspective. I feel like I am a piece of meat that nearly everyone seems to want a taste of. A lot of the time that I will be somewhere alone, I see guys staring at me. Some of them follow me around either staring at me or trying to catch me in an area that would be private enough to make a move on me.
It makes me feel like I am a perverted little bastard when I have a guy follow me around, even when I try to lose him. I can’t run off somewhere if I am in public, but I can try to out wait him. I would be hoping he had to leave before I compromised myself, by going to the bathroom or getting in an elevator or some place where he can safely stuff his hands into my pants or touch me near my crotch to see how I react.
Is the whole world fascinated with little boys? I have had a lot of guys approach me in public areas and feel me up when they think no one can see them. It made me think that all men liked little boys and just didn't want anyone else to know that they did. Don't get me wrong, I didn't get felt up every where I went nor did I get felt up every time I went somewhere, but I got felt up a hell of a lot more than any boy should have.
I still didn't understand how they could tell that I would do it for them. ( I read in some psychology magazines that one out of every two girls and one out of every three boys are sexually molested to the point of orgasm by either party or both (usually the molester if the molestee is too young to orgasm, by the age of eighteen. Also boys are less likely to report being molested, so the number of boys is probably closer to one in two.)
From what I've seen, it is probably true, because someone always seemed to be after me and I wasn't able to tell anyone until I was nearly forty.) Almost every child that I have had sex with when I was a child, had more than one person molesting them. Usually it was a family type thing. The whole damned family. Other times it would be an uncle or maybe the baby sitter.
Sometimes like in my case, it would be almost anyone who could get me alone. I am always afraid of them when I don’t have any one around. I get scared that they might cut my dick off if I don’t do what they want me to do. David has threatened to do it on several occasions. He even pulled on it and put a knife under my balls close enough where I could feel the sharp edge of it on them.
When he told me he was going to slice it off clean, I thought I was going to die. I really thought he was getting ready to do it. I couldn’t move a muscle. I was scared stiff. I had visions of myself lying on the floor trying to stop the blood from squirting out of the hole that I would be left with. I imagined that even if I had been saved that the doctors would have to give me a pussy. Then I would be a dick sucker for sure.
Everyone would be after me to fuck. Hell they already are. I stayed confused all the time. I dreaded doing the stuff and yet I believed it was just a part of life. Something all kids do, but don't talk about except with trusted friends. I felt like I was a queer when I did a guy, yet I sometimes couldn't get enough of him if he was a turn on to me. There were just some guys that had what I had learned to perceive as pretty dicks.
When I found one, I had to suck it. It usually wasn't a problem getting the guy to let me suck it as very few men allow little boys to see their dicks unless they want the boy to suck it in the first place. The boys my age were a different problem. I have seen boys in the locker room at school take a shower that had the perfect dick. I obviously couldn't approach them with all the other boys in there.
I was always afraid I would get excited and get a hard on. Trust me, the last thing I wanted to happen as a 13 year old was to have all the guys see me gawking at some other boy in the nude, let alone see me doing it while I'm sporting a hard on. I would never live that down.
Sometimes when a guy would “get me“, he would just feel me up or jerk me off into my pants. Other times he would force me to perform oral sex for him. What they did would depend on how big their balls were and on how stupid I was that day. Usually I managed to be pretty stupid. Most of the time it was a quick feel or a quickie hand job that only lasted a few minutes. In public they had to be quick.
Sometimes if they got me in the bathroom or on the elevator it would be a half hour or so and a blow job for him or an anal fuck for me. Either way I felt screwed. When they got finished, I would either be scared that someone was going to smell his juice on my breath or I would have to walk around with my pants wet hoping it wouldn’t soak through. Usually it did.
It was very embarrassing walking around in the mall with a wet spot in the front of your pants. Everyone could see it, but no one ever said anything to me about it. I would feel like I was worthless and I needed to be treated bad because of the things I had done. I always felt like it had been my fault. If I hadn’t been so pretty or I hadn’t had my ass twitching that certain way, maybe it wouldn’t have happened.
I don’t know what my Mom thought about the stains in my underpants. I don’t even know for sure if she noticed them. They were pretty hard to miss, but then again I knew they were there. I wondered if she knew what they were or if she thought I was dribbling pee into them. I found out much later that sometimes parents find out things that their kids are doing and think it better not to confront them about it. A good example was when one of my therapists found out her son was masturbating.
She said she didn’t actually see him, but they had raised him and his sister not to put a big emphasis on nudity and privacy. They left the door open when they went to the bathroom and when taking a bath. She knew he was doing it, because he started closing the bathroom door and he and the bathroom both smelled like Jergen’s hand cream.
She could hear him going at it. He really gave it a work out when he did it. Her son would hide store ads, that had women or young girls modeling underwear, in various places in his room. He would sneak them into the bathroom with him. Occasionally he would get so excited that he would forget to flush the toilet. She could see his ejaculate floating in the bowl.
She had been surprised at how much there was when he did it. The boy could make a family sized bottle of Jergen's dissappear in short order. He started when he was twelve and continued until he was about sixteen. She said, that he probably was still doing it, but was being a little more discrete about it.
The therapist had assured me that it was a normal part of childhood. Even though she was a little concerned about the frequency and the urgency. She decided the best thing to do was just make sure he had plenty of Jergen’s so he didn’t make himself sore and to stay out of his way so she didn’t traumatize him by catching him. She wasn't too keen on the idea of seeing him do it anyway. Maybe my Mom had felt the same way. I don’t know.
There were those embarrassing moments like when Paul and I were in the bathroom at one of the restaurants on Route 16. He was sucking on my meat when this guy walked in and caught us. I turned beet red. I was very afraid that he would take us inside and tell somebody what we were doing. He told us to go ahead and finish. When I popped my load into Paul’s mouth, he said he wanted us to do it with him too.
When I reached over to open his fly, he said that he didn’t want to do it here in the bathroom. There was no lock on the door and he was afraid someone would walk in on us. He was staying at the little motel across the road. He gave us his room number and we agreed to meet him there in about ten minutes or so.
The guy left the restroom and headed to his room to get things ready for our arrival. Paul and I went outside and Paul started in the direction of his room. I asked him if he really wanted to do it with this guy. Paul replied that he didn’t like to suck other people’s dicks. I told him that there was no reason to go over there. Paul was worried that he would tell on us. I reminded him that the guy didn’t know our names let alone where we lived. By the time he realized we weren’t coming, we would be long gone.
Paul was still worried that somehow he would get the word out. I couldn’t alleviate his fears and I couldn’t let him go over there by himself. I followed him to the guy’s room. We stood outside for a couple of minutes. Paul reached up to knock on the door. I grabbed his hand, pleading with him.
"Please. Let's just leave. This guy has no idea who we are. He can't tell on us even if he wanted to. He certainly isn't going to risk anybody finding out he asked us to do him. Please Paul, don't make me do it with this guy. We really don't have to do it. I would just die if I had to do him. Come on. Let's go." Paul hesitated. Finally he said, "Okay, I don't want to do it either. Let's go." We turned around to go home.
Just as we got to the road, the guy stuck his head out the door. It was easy to see he wanted us to come back, but he couldn't yell at us to come in as he couldn't afford to draw attention to himself trying to get us into his room. Paul and I took off running. When we got to Paul's room, Paul thanked me for talking him out of it. He said he was just so scared that he wasn't thinking straight. Then he showed me how grateful he was as he took me into his mouth. God, I loved Paul so much.
I had a guy following me around at Lindsay’s supermarket. I would take all kinds of zigzags through the store, trying to lose him. Somehow he always managed to anticipate where I would show up. He was gawking at me pretty hard. There was no question as to what he would like to have happen, but he just followed me around. He didn’t say a word to me. He didn’t make it obvious so that anyone in the store would notice.
I noticed it, because he would make an appearance everywhere I went. I went outside and he would go outside. I go back inside and he goes back inside. At first it bothered me. I felt like I was a faggot. He made me feel like faggot bait, which a lot of times I really was. I couldn’t risk trying to go home with him following me, because of all the woods between there and home. I was afraid he would drag me into them and Lord knows what he might do to me then.
I had started thinking about how nice it would be to be slobbering on the end of Paul’s dick right now. I would be in seventh heaven and this guy wouldn’t be following me around. Unfortunately, Paul was out of town and that wasn’t happening today. The more I thought about Paul, the more excited I became. I began to wonder just how much I could tear this guy’s nerves up.
I had learned a long time ago that I could drive most guys bananas with my body. I didn't like it, but I knew it was true. If I dressed kind of skimpy, almost any guy would take extra glances at me. That was why I usually wore long pants and long sleeve shirts, unless I was in the mood to let someone have me. What I meant by that was that if I was feeling extra horny any particular day, I would wear a tee shirt and short pants. Of course I was always horny. I only dressed that way when I really felt sexy.
It wasn't like I was going to go out and find a guy, it just made me feel good when I had on shorts when ever I got that way. I always felt queer when I got that way, but sometimes I liked the attention, when someone liked what he saw. If the guy was clean and halfway sexy, I would sometimes actually have fun doing him. Especially when his juice tasted good. I know that makes me seem like I am a queer, but at the same time, I have had to eat so much of it that I have acquired a taste for it to the point that I know the difference between semen that is delicious and cum that sucks.
They all seemed to enjoy looking at me, even those who didn't really want to have sex with a little boy. Hell, the majority of them would look at me if I was wearing a duffle bag. Sometimes I liked that. It sometimes made me feel sexy and it kind of gave me a little power over some guys. That made me feel special. Other times I felt dirty and fucked up having guys stare at me. Knowing they wanted me.
I decided to have some fun and tease him a little. I was going to see if I could cause him to wet up his pants. Actually I knew I could, I guess I was really trying to see just how quickly I could wet them up. I went outside and removed my pullover shirt. I tucked one corner of it into the back pocket of my jeans shorts. They weren’t super short, but showed about half of my thighs. I leaned against the front of the building and waited for him to show.
I had also started wondering in the back of my mind how he would feel between my lips. Would it taste sweet or would he be sour? He didn’t disappoint me. He showed up within a few minutes. When he saw my chest, he almost drooled on himself. His dick was poking at his pants. I said hi to him and asked him if he was enjoying the weather.
At first he was a little embarrassed and wasn’t sure if he should risk talking to me. He eventually decided that it wasn’t going to cause him to get into trouble just talking to me. We were talking about various subjects while he got his eyes full staring at me. I could see his eyes move from my chest to my legs and then back to my chest. I reached down and absentmindedly started rolling up my pant legs to expose more of my thigh.
Then I would casually bring my hand up my body, letting it brush across my nipple. My nipples had gotten hard and my dick was poking at the front of my shorts. There was no way he could miss it. I could see it poking out myself when I looked down at my crotch. I knew he was going nuts. I could already see a wet spot soaking through the front of his pants. I think it was then that I had decided to suck it for him. It wasn't as if I was going to see if he would let me suck him, I already knew he wanted me to. I finally asked him if he liked what he saw. He told me that I posed quite a lovely sight. I couldn’t believe I did what I did next. I heard myself tell him that I suck.
He looked like he was in shock. Now he was asking me all kinds of questions like do I swallow and the like. I felt fucked up again because of what I’d done, but I answered his questions anyway. He was getting hornier by the minute. When I told him that I swallow, he got all choked up and couldn't say anything for several minutes. Finally, he asked me if I would like to suck him.
I told him to let me think on it for a while. In the mean time he could enjoy looking at me. His wet spot was growing by the minute. I let him look at me for about twenty minutes, until I was sure that his pants were soaked. I told him I didn’t think I was ready to suck him just now. I told him good bye. I put my shirt back on and went back in the store. I left my pants rolled up.
I walked around in the store to see if he was going to start following me again. I knew he would and he did. I let him follow me around for awhile before I went to the bathroom and stood near the sink waiting for him. He didn’t come in, so I went back out. He was outside the door, and was pretending that he was waiting to use the bathroom. The restroom was in the warehouse section in the back of the store. None of the customers could see us from the store and the employees could only see us if they came down to the hall. I stood there for a few seconds with a wanton look on my face and went back inside.
He still didn’t dare to come in. I went back out again and reentered the store. I let him follow me around some more and decided to try the restroom one more time. If he didn’t take the bait this time, I was going home. This time I waited outside the restroom until he arrived. I shoved my hand into my pants and spent a few seconds rearranging my shit. I looked him dead in the eye while I had my hand on my thing and licked my lips before going into the restroom.
When he came in, he locked the door behind him. He asked me if I had changed my mind. I told him to take his pants off so I could see what I would be dealing with. When he took off those pants, I was surprised. His legs looked nice. I really wouldn’t mind licking the smooth looking skin on them. He had shaved the hair from his dick and balls.
This wasn't unusual. Many of the guys who were attracted to little boys shaved their dicks. I shave mine on occasion. It makes me feel smooth and sexy. Little boys tend to be less leery about sucking a guy with no hair on it as well. I decided that it wouldn’t be difficult to handle it for him.
I told him to just stand still while I felt it with my hands before I made my decision. I was still teasing him. I had already made up my mind that I would suck it for him. I touched the tip of it so I could watch it hop up in the air. I was getting very excited now. I kissed his chest and started sucking his nipples. I dropped down to my knees and started licking his legs. I was right, his skin was so smooth and soft. I could have licked them all day. I proceeded to lick his balls. I slowly moved up his shaft until I was running my tongue around in the tip of his penis. I let my tongue rest in the tip for several minutes, then I pulled away from him.
I was already sick to my stomach. Not because of thinking about sucking the guy's dick, but because I wanted to suck him. I was a faggot. I wanted to die, yet I had to have his thing in my mouth. I asked him if he sucked. He told me that he didn’t. I told him that was too bad. I don’t suck anybody unless they suck me first. Actually I was bluffing and was going to suck him regardless of whether he did me or not. I wanted to come and come bad.
I headed for the door and he told me to wait. He asked me to give him a minute to think it over. Finally, he told me to take my pants off so he could look at it to see if he could do it for me. When I took my pants off, he was the one that was surprised. My little pencil dick was sticking straight up at him and there was only a little hair around it. He dropped down on his knees and started sucking on my dick.
He was awkward about it. I guess this really was his first time. I tried to train him by telling him what felt best, but he just didn’t get it. He thought that sucking meant you were supposed to pull the guys balls up through his shaft. Still, it was better, than nothing and I still got to shoot off. It was funny watching that look on his face when I started squirting it into his mouth. He had that what the hell do I do with it now look. I helped him out. I told him to start swallowing. He swallowed it all.
I got him to kiss me and when he was breathing so hard that he was panting, I went down between his legs and did a number on him. What a pleasant surprise, he wasn’t sour. He wasn’t sweet either. Well, not sweet like Paul’s Dad, but it tasted good anyway. I decided I wanted a little more. I sucked him for a long time after he went soft. I sucked him until it got hard again and he shot off again.
I was upset with myself because it tasted good that time too. Then I sucked him some more. I sucked until he got hard another time. I guess he probably thought I was a nympho by now. I pulled back and told him to sit on the toilet. I wet up my ass with my spit and got up in his lap, letting his shaft slide slowly up my rear end as I wrapped my legs around his waist.
I felt so strange. There was that I am fucking queer feeling and yet I felt so warm and cuddly in his arms. I kissed him, fervently sucking on his tongue. I sat still until my muscles started contracting and he finally shot off in there. He stood in front of me and watched me shit him out. He watched me wipe and get dressed. I told him I was leaving. I told him to stop following me. I left wondering what the hell was wrong with me for doing that. I felt so fucked up. My dick was sore from him sucking it. I looked at it later in the day. No wonder it was sore, he had sucked it so hard that it had a hickey on the tip of it.
I wish there were some way I could get away from David. I hated that bastard. He had started a new kick. He would take Paul and I “Trolling“. The way it worked, was he would take us to one of the plaza's and we would split up and find some young boy that was either alone at the plaza or that could slip away to the van for a half an hour or so. David always borrowed one of his friend’s vans when we went “Trolling“. That way no one could see what we were doing in the parking lot and there would be plenty of room to do our thing.
We didn’t have to approach them for sex, but we could if we felt it was safe. Our job was to get them into the van. We would usually talk with them for a little while and then tell them we had a neat new game in the car and would be glad to show them how to play. Whichever one of us found one first would go get the other before we took the new recruit to his debut. Once we were in the van, David would take over.
The guy would end up sucking everyone and would get his butt fucked. He would usually protest, but by the time David got finished talking to him he would be so afraid of David that he probably would have done it with Mr. Donkey. We didn’t go “Trolling“ too often. When we did, we tried to find guys that wouldn’t be too repulsive. It was too hard and took too long to find guys that were a turn on, although sometimes we got lucky.
Usually we found young boys about our age. We never got any real young ones like he asked us to, because they always had their parents hanging around pretty close. A couple of times we were shocked to see the same kid at school. It was really weird. We had all had sex with one another and we all knew it. The boy couldn't tell anybody, because he was deeply embarrassed about it. We weren't going to tell anybody either, but the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
They would avoid us like the plague. I guess they were afraid that if they hung around with us, that David might get them again. They were most certainly right. I couldn't imagine a boy that David knew we had sex with, hanging around with us, and not ending up at his place. David would see to it that it happened.
The boys had every right to be concerned. That was cool by me. I hadn't wanted to do it with them in the first place and damn sure didn't want to do it now. Sometimes when we couldn’t find a young boy, we would bring him a guy in his early twenties that showed an interest in us. David would work up a trade. Sex with him for sex with us.
We got this guy in the van one time. He wasn’t actually a guy. He was a kid too. He was a little bit older than we were, but he was still cute and innocent looking, which was a real turn on for David. It didn’t exactly hurt Paul’s or my feelings any either. Not that either one of us wanted him, but if you have to do it, he may as well be cute. I also found out that to satisfy David's idea of finding a really cute boy, I didn't need to get even close to my idea of cute.
When David got him really scared, he popped a load up the poor boy’s butt. David told Paul and I to fuck the kid when he got through with him. The boy had to go to the bathroom like right now, but David told him to hold it for a little while and then he would let him out. After we all got to suck him a little bit, David let him get dressed again. I could hear his stomach rumbling when I was sucking him and knew the poor boy was struggling to keep his cheeks together.
I had been there and done that. I was really disappointed. To be so cute, his juice was about as nasty as the boy was cute. It was a real chore to swallow him. As a matter of fact, it was one of the few times I threw up in the car after David had whipped me. I can’t tell you how sick I had gotten licking the vomit off the floor of that van. At least David waited for the boy to leave before making me do it.
I remember the grossed out look on Paul's face when he got his turn. David on the other hand slurped it up like cotton candy. David then got him to do all of the usual stuff to him and us, like sucking us all over and such.
David would tickle the young boy quite frequently. The kid looked like he was going to blow out at any time. When we could hear him shitting all in his pants, David let him get out of the van. The common bastard made the boy do the hershey squirts all in his pants and then leaves him at a crowded plaza, so every one would see him. When the boy was walking away from the van, I could see a big brown patch soaking through in the back of his pants. I felt so sorry for him.
I do not know how “Trolling“ made Paul feel, but I felt dirty and used. I would want to be alone when I got home. I hated myself for a long time after it was over. Part of it was because of the queer shit I did in the van and the other part was the guilt of putting the young boy in the position where he was forced to have sex when it was obvious that he didn’t want to.
Many young boys don’t mind having their dicks sucked. When a boy reached puberty, he was horny all the time. I know, I was one. If he was able to achieve orgasm without it being too embarrassing, he probably would. Sometimes curiosity would get them to do things with the other boys. We have had circle jerks with several of the boys in the neighborhood. It had to be their idea. Paul and myself couldn’t take the chance ourselves, yet we had to make a reasonable attempt to at least appear to be like the other boys.
They never did each other, but I could tell that a couple of them would have. I know some people can’t understand what I am trying to say, but when you have been abused like I have, it isn’t hard to spot desire on someone’s face. I can see it in their eyes. I never tried to find out because I simply did not want to do it with them, besides, I had already sucked most of them when they were standing in front of the box already.
I don’t like it when someone pees in my mouth or in my butt. I prefer the later, given the choice. If they have been awhile without peeing, it is extremely nasty and hard to swallow. It almost burns your throat. It is very humiliating to have them hold your head while you gulp it down, especially if some one else is watching. You have to gulp it down, because it comes out so fast it will squirt out of your mouth and make a mess if you don’t quickly empty it. Especially if you are doing it in a car while the guy is driving. When you gulp it down, it cuts down on how much you taste it as well.
The way Tim did it, it wasn’t so bad. The first time usually had a heavy piss taste to it, but each time after the first it started clearing up until it was like drinking water. The last weekend I spent with him, he was drinking a big glass of water every five minutes and was pissing on average every twenty minutes or so. After he peed in everyone else's mouth once, it was all mine every time he had to pee.
Friday night, well actually late Saturday morning, surprisingly, I spent the night with Tim’s boys. Of course, by that time, we were all fucked out. Saturday night I spent the night with Tim and Carol spent the night with the boys in their room. God only knows what she did with them in there.
Tim pissed my mouth a couple of times during the night. Trust me, it wasn’t as nice as when he had been drinking all of that water. He didn’t piss my butt anymore after everyone had the thrill of watching me shit it all over the place. Of course he did a lot of stuff to me before we got out of the bed, but that is for another part of this story. If of course I decide to tell it. I felt pretty used most of the night.
Sunday was my night with Carol. You get three guesses where the boys stayed and the first two don’t count. I would have thought I would be excited about having Carol after me. I wasn’t. I felt dirty and used. It was like okay kid, I am going to do this with you and you don’t matter.
Her pee was pretty damn hard to swallow. It stunk like piss. To make matters worse, I didn’t know how to block her pussy hole off and swallow at the same time. We had to change the sheets and flip the mattress when she tired of watching me try to drink her pee.
We laid in the bed cuddling up close, actually I was cuddling and she was sucking my upper lip. When my heart beat gave me away on being horny, Carol told me to stand beside the bed. I was already naked. She went to the closet and got out a bag. She reached in the bag and pulled out a clothespin. She put it on the bottom of my nut sack so that it pinched my skin just between my balls. It really hurt, at first. After a few minutes, it started to feel kind of exciting. It was similar to that stop please don’t stop pain that I experienced when David first started working on my butt.
The next pin went on my sweet meat, with another on the other side. There was one for each nipple of course. At first my nipples hurt so bad I cried. Not out loud, but the tears were rolling down my cheeks. It seemed like forever before they quit hurting and started feeling good. I was too damn scared to take them off. Then there was one on each side under the folds of my armpits.
Carol placed one on the tips of each of my fingers. Carol told me to open my mouth and when I did she put a clothespin on my lower lip. Carol made me stick my tongue out, clamping a clothes pin on the tip of my tongue. When I screamed from the pain, she took that one off. Carol placed one edge of another pin up my butt and clamped it to the rim of my ass. Finally she clamped one on the end of my dick sealing my pee hole shut. All of the pins hurt, but that one really got my attention.
After I looked and pretty much felt like a porcupine, Carol started to kiss and lick me all over my body in between the clothespins. It was incredible and yet I was unable to shake the feeling of being used. I wanted her to stop messing with me. I was afraid to say anything. I think that hurt me a lot as well, the fact that I was too plain damn chicken shit of a bastard to protect myself by speaking out about how worthless it made me feel when people were taking advantage of me.
The more Carol licked, the more excited I became. It was an absolutely fantastic experience having her tongue probing my body all over. The sensation I felt when it got close to where the clothespins were pinching me drove me wild. I was ready to shoot off and she hadn’t even got around to licking on my dick.
When she finally started sucking on one of my balls, I started coming almost immediately. It had to squirt out through the closure where the clothespin had me closed off. It squirted all over her face and the top of her head. It hurt like hell and felt so damned wonderful at the same time. I felt like the end of my dick was going to pop off.
After it was all over, Carol took off all of the clothespins and we got back in the bed. When she removed the pins from my nipples, it hurt worse than when she put them on. I shrieked in pain when she removed the two pins from my privates at the same time. After Carol removed the pins from my nipples, the others weren't so bad. She got me to do an around the world on her. When she finished coming, she decided that she would suck me to sleep. I must have crashed and burned sometime later. I don’t remember anything after going soft the second time I came in her mouth.
When I awoke that morning, Carol was still gently sucking on my meat. She was still being gentle, but I was sore. She must have sucked it all night. I told her it was sore, but she kept sucking it until she finally came up off of it and gave me a kiss. She said it was time to fix breakfast for the boys.
We had bacon and eggs for the main course. Carol decided to fix cinnamon rolls with icing for desert. She decided I was to flavor the icing and sucked me until I told her I was getting ready to come. She caught it in a bowl and mixed it in with the icing. I had thought I was being original shooting off in the cookie dough at Paul’s, but I guess it wasn’t so original after all. Berry and Barry came downstairs and said that Tim was taking a shower. Carol sucked them both into the icing as well. I guess she got off on eating those rolls. Both of the boys were wild over them.
Sometimes I wondered if I’d ever grow up. Would I become an adult? Or was I so fucked up that I would remain a child forever and be everybody’s little bitch like I am now? I think I heard it put best by the guy who grabbed me in a mall restroom. After I finished swallowing his load, he grabbed my face. Looking dead into my eyes, he said, “Life sucks and then you die.” Then he crammed his tongue into my mouth. I guess he’s right.