Going Too Far

22 Aug

I was just remembering, which can often be as “bad” as thinking, about being a young, horny, wild, and wanton thing back when I was all totally caught up in getting laid and on both sides of the fence.  At some point, I understand now that you can be all buck-wild and just going for all the gusto you can but you also begin to realize that running around and having sex with almost anyone who wants to isn’t always a good idea.  Of course, this is something a lot of people learn but it’s then just a matter of when you learn it and begin to start picking and choosing who you’re going to have sex with and when you’re going to do it; it’s the beginning of learning the lesson that just because you can doesn’t mean you have to and that thinking and doing are not really one and the same.

I was like 13 or 14 and was all set to spend the night at a friend’s house and it wasn’t like I didn’t like the guy or his family but, for some reason, I was feeling edgy as well as having second thoughts about agreeing to spend the night.  It could have been that it was the first time I’d been back to the old neighborhood after we moved and that could have made me feel out-of-place or something – I’m really not sure why I felt the way I did – I just wasn’t feeling the overnighter as much as I thought I would – but backing out and without having a good reason seemed to be a rude thing to do.

The day, despite how I was feeling, was kinda awesome, getting to reconnect with all the friends I left behind when we moved, catching up on all the latest kid gossip and even feeling nostalgic to be back where I spent my formative years and, of course, returning to the ‘scene of the crime’ as it were because, of course, this was the neighborhood that gave me my awakening as a bisexual (even though I didn’t know the word existed at the time).

When it was bedtime – read this as, “You boys take your asses in the room!” – my friend and I went to his room as instructed and began a game that may sound familiar to you when you’re doing a sleepover called, “What Do You Want To Do Now?” which calls for the host to ask the question and for the guest to formally respond, “I don’t know – what do you want to do?”  Now, sometimes, this was easy because the host might have board games, a deck of cards, or other things to keep young minds occupied before being told to go to sleep… but this wasn’t one of those times.  It wasn’t that my friend didn’t have things we could have dived into to keep ourselves amused… but we just couldn’t seem to agree or decide on what to do – it’s a weird sort of boredom that tends to get young men into trouble.

I knew that whenever I was hanging with the fellas and we got to this point, the only ‘logical’ thing to do was to have sex… and I really didn’t feel like it and, yes, this friend was in our little club of fuckers but he wasn’t high on my list of favorite guys to have sex with even though today, I’m not really sure why that was.  Anyway, you could see this coming from a mile away as suggestion after suggestion got brought up and tossed aside and I was even beginning to think that my friend was deliberately nixing ideas so we could get to the “let’s have sex!” deal.

I just wasn’t feeling it but, at the same time, sure, a part of me was – that developing part of my intellect that says, “Well, it is a chance to have sex and you might not get that chance when you go back home…” – and, yep, it was pretty much right on the money because I hadn’t been in my new neighborhood long enough to learn who was down and who wasn’t.  But I didn’t bring it up; my mind had settled into a kind of state where if he wanted to, okay, we’ll do it but if he doesn’t mention it, that works, too, and more so since I was oddly not hyped to have this kind of sex.

In a perfect world, he never brings it up… but you know he did.  For the record, I did say that it was a good idea (duh) but I really didn’t feel like it, words that proved to be ‘fatal’ in that it was the first real time that I allowed myself to be seduced and with something I didn’t have experience with – fooling around.  Up to this point in my sexual life, things were rather black and white – either you wanted to or you didn’t; there was no middle ground in this… or so I thought.

So we fooled around which was really a mock wrestling match and with neither of us wearing anything.  The fun in that is trying to wrestle with each other, our bodies all up close and personal, while trying not to make too much noise and draw parental attention because, of course, trying to explain why we were both naked and with erections would have been impossible to do and would have resulted in some major pain and other things I shuddered to think about like, oh, having to confront my mother while she listened to why my friend’s parents brought me back home early.

So we tussled with each other, our cocks good and hard because there was a lot of dry humping and even a little intercrural going on and, yeah, it was kinda fun but only because I made the ‘contest’ a little fairer by not using my skills as a purple belt in judo – I was letting him get the best of me while reminding him that I did have some skills.  In the course of our tussling, much oral sex was happening, you know, you pin the guy on his back and while he’s ‘helpless’ you give him quite a few good sucks, not enough to make him cum but, well, you get the idea, right?

And I was fine with that and was even hoping that at some point, he’d cum and wouldn’t want to continue; I remember saying to him that I didn’t want to go too far with this but, again, famous last words because he somehow managed to get me onto my stomach and before I could counter his move, he shoved his cock into my ass rather quickly… and a strange feeling came over me, a combination of being pissed that he broke his promise not to go too far with this and feeling the very familiar and comforting feeling of having a guy in my butt and humping away.

I could have gotten him off of me easily enough… but his dick moving in and out of me was feeling good and I was shocked and amazed at how easily I capitulated and went from not really feeling the sex to really feeling it – it was weirdly comfortable and disturbing all at the same time.  When he came in me, I felt the usual good feeling to have sperm being pumped into me… but I was also quite pissed, both with myself and with him for getting me to do something I hadn’t wanted to do.

I was still feeling some kind of way about it as we switched places and roles; I felt that rush of pleasure shoving my bigger cock into his butt, hearing him cry out, the sound muffled by the pillow he had buried his face into, and even saying “Aah…” when I broke past his sphincter and was now officially inside him… but the reluctance to be there remained even though I pounded his ass, which was nice and soft on the outside and almost prohibitively tight on the inside despite very liberal use of Vaseline.

I was having a moment of crisis because I was doing something that I didn’t really want to do; something in my head said, “Well, just stop what you’re doing, dummy!” while another part was more than willing to veto that particular action and, yeah, that veto had much weight behind it the closer I got to creaming his butt… and I did but it just didn’t have that same exhilarating feeling because, of course, I got goaded into doing something I didn’t really want to do.

We spent the rest of the night having sex in some form or the other; sneaking out to the bathroom to clean our cocks and asses wasn’t all that difficult and, of course, quite mandatory, just like the bath we both had to take before all this happened.  I found it bothersome to be having my dick sucked – and even skillfully so – because for the first time in my young life, I was an unwilling participant.  No, it wasn’t rape nor was anything forced – it was just me caving in and I didn’t like the feeling at all.  I stopped being pissed with him because I realized that nothing would have happened if I hadn’t gone along with it so now, with me watching him eating my dick as if he was starving, I was trying to make the best of the situation and, if I could, try to enjoy it all.

It was a restless night; we’d get each other off, clean up, and declare that now we were going to sleep… but it’s hard to sleep when you feel the guy next to you not only spooning you but his new erection is right there, just begging and ready for entry and you’ve resigned yourself to just letting him slip it in, a task made easier after being fucked three or four times already and, while he’s humping away, you’re already thinking about what you’re going to do when he pulls out and turns over to present his butt to you.  I was learning that if your mind is on anything other than the sex taking place, it’s not a great deal of fun or, really, it’s not as much fun as it would be if you were gung-ho to get it on in the first place.

I remember that it was like two in the morning before we both fell asleep and with plenty of space between us… but my sleep was fractured and troubled as my mind tried to suss out just what the hell happened and how I could have gotten ‘suckered’ into doing something my better judgement – such as that was – was against doing.  I wasn’t happy with myself even though my libido was more than sated.  Even when we woke up early and got right into a 69 – he woke me up by sucking on me – it was nice to feel him shooting a load into my mouth even as I shot mine into his – a pre-breakfast treat, as it were.  My reluctance from the day before was gone but not forgotten; it was something I would have to examine once I got back home but, first, it was time to get hard again so I could fuck him as nicely as he fucked me, both of us getting this part in before his father came banging on the bedroom door and hollering at us to get our asses up, get washed, dressed, and to the table for breakfast.

After I got home, I was sullen, my mind feverishly working on how and why I let things go too far.  Sure, one the one hand, I had what normally would have been a night of amazing sex… but I also saw that I had also violated a principle I actually didn’t know I had – if you don’t want to do it, just don’t do it and no matter how much cajoling, pleading, or begging is going on.  Yeah, sounds good on paper but as I grew older, I did find that this didn’t work all that well in real situations because you do get… trained in a sense that when a woman wants you to have sex with her, telling her no isn’t a good idea and only something like being really sick or even contagious – like having the measles or something like that – is a viable excuse not to give her what she wants and when she wants it.  With guys, nah, it didn’t always work… but it taught me to speed up my thinking so I could weigh all the options if and/or when I was propositioned and if the risks were low, well, okay, let’s do this and maybe because I need to get laid like this to lift my spirits or something.

But when I said no, I did mean it and the nice thing about that was having both the muscle and certain skills to make that decision stick… and, yeah, a few times, some mild violence did jump off – but that’s a story or two for another time…

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Posted by on 22 August 2013 in Life, Living and Loving


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