If you are not of legal age to read stories that contain adult subject matter or you are offended by adult subject matter do not read any further. All rights to this story are retained by the author. Although this story is fiction certain events in the story are true. The story parallels young John's life from birth through adolescence into adulthood. All names, dates and places have been changed to protect the innocent. This story is protected under applicable copyright laws and may not be reproduced without the express written permission of the author.
Email: richardlickerish "at" yahoo "dot" com Subject line: Blue Collar Sex
Blue Collar Sex
Somewhere in the Heartland of America a healthy male child was born to Mr. and Mrs. John Miller. Nine months after the end of World War II a six and half pound baby boy burst forth from the constraints of his mother's womb, kicking and screaming for freedom. Maybe it was that unbridled enthusiasm at birth, that quest for unchained freedom that would define the baby boy as he grew into a young man. The boy would be the only child for the decorated World War II Navy veteran and his wife.
The ill-fated post war marriage didn't last long; however, the high-spirited lad would spend his formative years growing up around fertile farm lands and industrialized centers in the Midwest where he would evolve, learning his core Christian values and work ethic from church, schools, family and friends. His father would transform from a blue collar worker into a successful entrepreneur over the years. As John, Jr., grew into adolescence he would quickly discover the ways of sin: pleasures of the flesh. This is John's story.
Chapter 1: Pleasures Of The Flesh
By 1955 my mother was long gone from my life. She had deserted my dad and me for some drifter she'd taken up with at a local roadhouse while dad toiled his ass off when I was about five or six. Dad was a hard working Christian man. One might even call him a workaholic. According to dad, mom would rather carouse the bars and lie up in the bed with men of ill repute, rather than stay at home being a housewife and mother. She was an alcoholic nymphomaniac according to dad. Basically, she never got enough dicks, drugs or alcohol to satisfy her. Eventually, she ran off with a low life scoundrel after they cleaned out dad's bank account heading west for Las Vegas.
Mom was one of those free will free love original hippies who wanted to become part of the beatnik generation that would eventually settle in San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury district. She stayed in Las Vegas working cheap clubs as a cocktail waitress and who knows what else for a few years, long enough to divorce dad. Then it was off for the bright lights, stentorian sounds and lurid sex of San Francisco and then tinsel town. As a single parent during the next few years dad tried his best to raise me to become a good Christian as well as a productive member of society.
However, by the time I entered my teen years I'd developed into somewhat of a wild child. Oh, I wasn't a gangster or thug by any stretch of the imagination. I was just guilty of breaking certain rules occasionally, along with my lustful desires of the flesh. No major issues with the law other than infractions for riding or driving too fast. Dad always managed to get those infractions quashed, but there was nothing he could do to stop my deep seated desire to indulge in pleasures of the flesh.
By the time I was seventeen I thought I had to be the horniest teenager in my town: my lust for pleasures of the flesh was uncontrollable. Plain and simple, I'd had developed an insatiable appetite for sex with both boys and girls since the onset of puberty. The passion for sex grew within me each year thereafter. It seem as though my dick stayed hard 24/7.
In fact, my friends would kid me saying that I'd fuck a knothole or suck off a doorknob if there was hair around it or there wasn't a live person around for sexual gratification. I'd had sex with good many girls in our community by the time I was fifteen as well as the boys that were doable or I felt were worth doing, and some in outlying towns.
A couple of us had even gone so far as to engage in sex in the hidden recesses of the church. I knew from my Christian upbringing that seeking pleasures of the flesh outside marriage was wrong, but the enjoyment and pleasure I derived from sex overrode what I'd been taught in the church, school and by society. There was only one boy in town that had eluded the grasp of my seductive behavior: Jimmy Smith.
Jimmy was, as they say now, a hotty. He was almost twenty when I was seventeen and had been working construction since he graduated from high school two years earlier. He wasn't a large guy, but his body was sculpted like one of those bronze statues. I wanted him in the worst way. I saw him sometimes whenever I visited with his younger brothers Darrin and Donny, and definitely had been seeing him in my dreams of late. For some reason every time I was around Jimmy I became sexually aroused. Jimmy had never made any overt sexual moves towards me, but I wished he had. I can't put my finger on what it was about Jimmy, I'd never even seen him fully nude, but I wanted to.
I wanted Jimmy in the worst way, but I knew he was straight or at least that's what he portrayed so that was not going to happen. All I could do was fantasize about him. Both of Jimmy's younger brothers, Darrin and Donny, had made my "A" list of secret sexual conquests. But I'd broken away from the younger brothers the summer before my senior year for some reason that I don't even remember. After I got my driver's license I gained a new sense of freedom. I had a steady girlfriend, but I was still managed to engage in clandestine sexual trysts with boys.
Since before high school the two younger Smith boys had been two of my favorite male sexual partners, but I'd been expanding my stable of studs and studettes. Maybe it was because the Smiths lived within walking distant, the next street over. However, both the younger Smith boys were becoming too clingy. I wasn't interested in any type romantic relationship with guys. All I wanted was pure raw ass sex with anyone anywhere to get my rocks off; however, I much preferred a warm wet mouth female or male covering my cockhead over a dry hand job any day.
My girlfriend was great at making out and giving head, but she was away at college. We'd been engaging in sex since early years of high school, but I need to satisfy certain needs with boys. Back in the day there were two rules for guys engaging sex: you didn't kiss another guy on the mouth and you didn't cum in another's mouth or ass. The two younger Smith boys had begun talking about wanting to start doing these things.
Maybe my unbridled desire for sex was a genetic thing. After mom deserted the family to become a lose hippie woman my dad had a string of lady friends that he entertained. My dad never remarried. I was his number one priority in life after mom left. He was a handsome man who was well-endowed in many areas. When two males share a house with communal bathroom there isn't much privacy.
I'd caught my dad on more than one occasion at home or work with a lady in one of those compromising sexual situations. I first remember hearing those salacious sounds coming from my dad's bedroom when I was around eleven and twelve. I was young but I wasn't stupid. I knew hearing those lustful moans through the thin walls he was fucking some young lady's brains out in the next bedroom, making her moan for more.
As he was in his bedroom fucking his lady of the night I would lie in bed letting Rosy Palm and her five daughters caress and massage my cock and then beat it into submission. I began engaging in sexual activity about the time I began puberty, somewhere between eleven and half to twelve years of age.. However, I'd come to know the pleasures of touching my penis as early as eight or nine, maybe younger.
My dad discovered early that I was a sexual creature who enjoyed beating my meat. I remember the first time he caught me in the act. I forgot to close the door to my bedroom one afternoon after I got home from school. I was about eleven when unbeknownst to me he entered my room while I was whacking wood, okay maybe more like a splinter. It scared the shit out me. Instead of chewing me out dad simply sat on the side of the bed and began explaining that what was happening and what I was doing was natural, but I needed to use greater discretion while masturbating. I think it was at that time that I developed a great bonding with my dad. During that conversation he also warned me to protect myself and my partner from diseases and unwanted pregnancy.
After the big powwow in my bedroom I never forgot what he told me that day. My youthful inquisitive years during the 1950s made me a curious cat when it came to sexual pleasure. It seemed as though all of us kids were curious about what others looked like beneath clothing as well as sex, again both boys and girls. I soon discovered that my pathetic little pecker, no bigger than a breakfast link sausage at the time, would spontaneously pop up erect while in the company of certain boys or girls. By the time I was twelve my pecker began throwing up, spiting out this whitish thick fluid.
Curiosity brings out different behaviors for different people. For me, curiosity extended well beyond what was beneath other kids clothing. I was more interested in touching and feeling those taboo body parts. I also wanted to know if other boy's peckers spat when they played with them.
At first, my male sexual encounters were limited to comparing and fondling other boy's hard dicks. From there we moved on to measuring and mutual masturbation. This was always a consensual thing. We would get together in our secret hideaways to conduct this type behavior. I must interject to say that not all boys were guilty of that type behavior.
I remember the gratification I got looking at girls with nice hooters, hoping to cop a feel, and the same for a boy's penis. I knew that girls didn't have a penis from an early age, but by eleven or twelve girls I knew were developing breasts and they were interesting things for me as well as other boys. They also were beginning to get hair around the pussy area. For me boobies that bounced and jiggled were the topic of many conversations, from what I remember, among us preteen boys.
Of course if boys and girls were naked their bodies were even more wonderful images to gaze upon. I remember I was thirteen when the girl down the street who was a year older told me if I'd show her my dick she'd show me her titties. I unzipped and gave her a peak. She ended up becoming my steady girlfriend and playmate. She let me play with her titties all afternoon that first day as I would many afternoons thereafter. For me playing with her breasts that afternoon was like getting a new toy. I was fascinated by her nipples; how they grew becoming hard little nubs. I played, chewed and sucked on them while she fondled my penis inside my pants to a point where I ejaculated causing a large wet spot to soak through the front of my Levis, very embarrassing.
She taught me about touching. She showed me where to touch her and how to make her moan and groan with pleasure. I soon discovered when aroused her clit would swell up the size of the tip of my little finger, becoming very sensitive. She taught me all about touching her vaginal area; how to rub the lips, flick the clit and massage the "G" spot just the right way. By the time she was sixteen and I was fifteen I was eating her pussy as she blew me. We got to a point where we could bring each other off simultaneously. When I questioned other boys none of them knew any of that stuff.
For me touching girl's firm titties, her clit or another boy's erect penis was better than going on a picnic or to the circus. My first sexual encounters with other boys in the neighborhood and school began with simple mutual masturbation exercises when I was around eleven years of age. Of course this was all done in secrecy.
During those hidden rendezvous all participants swore pacts of secrecy when engaging in comparing and touching each other's private parts. Back in the day for a young man to be discovered acting in a homosexual manner was considered not only inappropriate but illegal behavior -- a societal death knell. The outed individual would many times be banished from the family as well as ostracized by friends, gay or straight.
I remember a couple of times hearing about boys getting caught in compromising homosexual sexual situations. Unlike today the boys weren't hauled off to jail and then tried in court to be labeled for life as sex offenders. Whenever boys were caught the parents usually sought help through the church to cleanse the sins from these boys, and if a girl became pregnant she was sent away to have the baby that was then put up for adoption. There were not only laws prohibiting homosexual behavior it was also the unwritten law of the land back in the 50s and 60s; however, there were those adventurers who would test the limits to the max in the name of sex. I was one of those thrill-seeking boys when it came to anything I did in life, including sex.