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Subject: Boston Beach Man The following is a true story; I love to meet men all around the work who enjoy hearing about my experiences and have some of their own. Bostontravler21(at)yahoo(dot)com is my email (one E in Bostontravler) Please donate to Nifty; we come together as a community because of the fine people at Nifty and thanks to them, and the first amendment, we can share stories as as my first time with a man. Boston Beach Man by Mario Wallace I moved in with my uncle in Boston at the end of my sixth-grade year. I was nervous. I was a skinny blonde-haired California boy with absolutely no interest in sports and I was moving to my mother’s rough-and-tumble hometown. I heard stories growing up of the wicked-tough kids that hang at the corner, the drug-dealers I’m meant to avoid if ever approached, and the tightly packed neighborhoods that ensure everyone knows everyone else’s business. It was a lot different than I expected. My Uncle worked full-time, so he was barely home, and I was expected to, essentially, take care of myself. He cooked dinner (usually ordered food), cleaned, all the adult work, but I got myself to-and-from school, and also ‘babysat’ myself until he got home from work long past sundown. He encouraged me to make friends but I didn’t know how to do that without school as a meeting ground. And, also, I wanted to blow all of the boys at the corner, not hang out with them. I realized I was gay shortly before my tenth birthday. I watched the movie Cocktail and later that night, I fell asleep picturing Tom Cruise laying on top of me. I didn’t know what we were going to do, but he did, and it was going to be good. There’s a lot more to this moment, but for the sake of this journal entry, that’s how I figured out I was gay. The next year, I was playing with escort kocaeli my cousin in his bedroom and he dared me to touch his boner. I was so nervous that I thought my chest was going to explode inside of my body and push itself out of my nose. “Okay,” I said quickly, grabbing a hold of his rock-hard penis. He grabbed the back of my head and inched it towards his dick. He dared to me to suck it, I did, and two minutes later, I walked home gleaming with the accomplishment of sucking my first dick. I began masturbating a few weeks later and that meant I was always trying to hang out with my older cousin. His five inch erection was thick, his head had a constant drizzle of precum dripping out, and his hand smelled like the cigarettes he sucked down before we did the things we did; me sucking his dick, balls, and tongue. I was a “sucker” he said, in every sense of the word, because even though he said he was going to suck me back… he never did. Believe it or not, I think I wore him down because after a couple months of steady feedings, he was suddenly to busy to hang out. I turned to my friends at sleep-overs for sexual release, but they were closer to my age and didn’t have a clue about what to do. I didn’t either and all I really wanted a guiding hand to teach me the ways of my body. I left California having put two dicks in my mouth, and three in my hand (not including mine) on a mission to step up my game… I was going to meet a man. It was the Tuesday after my arrival in Boston. I learned pretty quickly that it wasn’t a rollerblading town when I struggled to wheel myself up a very steep hill. When I got to the top, I saw an ocean on the other side. It was beautiful; in California, you have to drive for hours to go to the beach, but here, it was only ten minutes away. izmit yabancı escort I took my shirt off and skated up and down the two mile long beach when a Man caught my attention. He was wearing green basketball shorts, no shirt, and sunglasses. He had bulging arms, a hairy chest-and-stomach, and I could see his head follow my direction when I passed. I could smell his sweat and the masculinity stopped me dead in my tracks. I pretended to be enamored with the ocean and sat down. I took off my rollarblades to give my feet a few minutes to rest. I was tall for my age, already five-nine, and I was in a size nine men’s shoes. It was difficult to find men’s skates that fit well and the best that I could do were eight-and-a-halfs because anything bigger sliced into the back of my calf. “Wicked hot out, huh,” the man standing in front of the bench next to me said. “Yeah, but the breeze is nice.” He took off his sunglasses and flashed his emerald green eyes in my direction. He looked me up-and-down, fixating on my unsocked foot for a moment longer. I could see the bulge in his shorts; it was pushing them forward more than most men I’d seen before. I knew he saw me look because a moment after I glanced down, he grabbed his package very briefly. “Why aren’t you in school?” he asked. “Oh, I, ah, transferred.” “Yeah, right,” he laughed, walking closer to me, “you’re probably skipping, aren’t you.” “No, really, I’m from California and I already finished the year.” “I wouldn’t tell if you were,” he smirked, sitting next to me. I could see the sweat glistening off of his hairy shoulders; I wanted to lick it up. “What? You going into High School?” “Yeah,” I lied, “are you in school?” “Me? Ha! No, I’m old enough to be ya’ dad. I’m forty-two.” “Wow, izmit eve gelen escort you look like maybe you’re in college.” “Nah, I work out,” he flexed with bulging biceps, “I’ve been here for an hour now, starting to burn.” “I live on E st, and bladed here. I didn’t know the beach was so close.” “You gonna go in the water?” “Nah, I don’t have a bathing suit.” “So what! Go in in ya’ underwear. Men do it. Wouldn’t be a bad sight,” he laughed, loudly. “I don’t even have a towel. Did you go in the water?” “I just come to get some sun and look at the boys,” his eyes zeroed in on my slim chest, hairless, “but they’re usually at work or in school.” “Yeah, I’m lucky I have this week off. My uncle’s always working so he wants me to make friends… which isn’t easy.” “Nah, it’s not that hard. Look,” he extended his hand, “I’m Mark.” “Jason,” I said, putting my hand in his. “Now you have a friend. We can hang here sometimes if you want, or you could hang at my place. I have some pretty cool comics that my nephew left. I don’t really read ’em.” “Cool,” I wanted to climb on top of him, “yeah, we can hang out.” “Awesome. So, what do you like to do Jason?” “Blade, comics are okay. I play video games, and I like music a lot. Do you know if they have a bathroom here?” “A bathroom? Oh, no, but, my house isn’t that far away.” That’s how it started and ended. The minute he answered with an invitation to his place, I was as good as his. It wasn’t that far, only a block-or-two, and when we got there, I rushed to the bathroom. He was waiting in the living room, sitting in the middle of his couch. “You want to chill here for a few,” he asked, clicking on his air conditioner with a remote, “it’s pretty hot outside.” “Yeah,” I sat next to him. Our knees touched and I could feel his hand on the back of mine. He didn’t have to guide my hand to his groin like he perhaps anticipated, so, instead, he kept his hand in place and rubbed my reaching forearm. “Wow,” I said, amazed at the girth and unexpected curvature of the foreign member in my hand.
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