An Angler Pops My Cherry

My mother always marched to the beat of her own drum. Mum grew up in a blue-collar family with two ultra-masculine brothers. Both siblings, as well as her father, were as rough as a bear’s arse. Grannie was hardly a dainty flower and down to earth. I had little recollection of granddad, who passed away when I was six.

When mum was in her early twenties, she had a brief relationship with a man twenty years older than she was. He was a thuggish individual and the father of my older brother. After three months of pregnancy, mom realized that the thug was a waste of time and decided to raise my brother alone.  

My mother was always industrious. In time, ended up owing a pub and grill setup. When my brother was fifteen, mom again fell pregnant with me after a one-night stand. My biological father, however, remained a mystery. This scenario was unlike my brother’s dad, and Gordon would bond with his dad as a teenager. 

By the time I was born, my mother had mellowed, and I became the apple of her eye. Unlike the strict upbringing, my brother, Gordon, had endured, I could do no wrong. In addition, according to everyone, I was the cutest blond boy imaginable. This situation further irked Gordon and made him resentful, and I had to endure a fair amount of bullying. Fortunately, my mother and grandmother, who later moved in with us, were always at hand to come to my rescue. I loved Gordon, but he was a phlegmatic individual who grew to become somewhat of a binge drinker and hell-raising drunk.

Gordon frequently got kicked out of the house when mum grew tired of his bullshit. Much as I enjoyed these respites, Gordon invariably returned home because he was a shit-magnet. Keeping a full-time job always taxed him. What irked Gordon the most was when my mother told people that I would one day run her business because Gordon would not be capable of doing so.

Other than the drama with my brother, I had a happy childhood and got on well with my mom’s earthy friends and their rough children. Although I was somewhat of a mommy’s boy, I was never a sissy and realized early on that I was gay and I loved fooling around with the other boys. I will not elaborate on that because it would be inappropriate on this site. As puberty advanced and I grew older, however, the fooling around waned when the other boys became cunt struck. A sinking feeling of isolation began for me during this period in my life.   

Little did I realize that a change was about to happen. One of my mom’s school friends was a man named Scully. Scully was rough, coarse, and loved fishing above all else. Whenever we popped into his home, there were always angling magazines lying around. Scully was not ever married and never spoke about his private life. He had always been cordial towards me, and despite his skankiness, I had always liked him.

When Scully popped into the pub and grill on my sixteenth birthday, he gave me a fishing rod.

“Maybe now you can start catching fish for your mother’s business,” he joked.

My brother let out a derisive snigger at the suggestion.

“Gorgon, don’t be so rude. I could teach Mark to fish,” Scully countered.

“Mmm,” Gordon dismissively countered.

“Well, what do you say, Mary…? Do you think I should teach Mark to fish?” Scully contested, addressing my mother.

“Yes,” my mother said, flustering her annoyance at Gordon. “I do believe Mark will do just fine, Scully.”  

“Cool, so Mark, are you up for the challenge?” Scully inquired.  

Although fishing was not my thing, caught up in the moment, I replied, “Anytime,” giving Gordon a look of defiance.

“Great, I’ll pick you up on Friday afternoon,” Scully announced.

As promised, Scully picked me up in his truck with his boat on a trailer. I had no idea what to expect but found the adventure very exciting. In my mother’s inimitable fashion, a cooler box with sandwiches and salad ingredients materialized for the excursion.

En route, Scully told me we would be sharing a tent and using the ablution area at the beach and the outdoor showers.

As we travelled the fifty miles to our destination, Scully also told me that he had never liked Gordon. “Your brother is a real prick,” Scully asserted. “Your mother is lucky to have you… I have always adored you,” Scully concluded, as his icky left hand squeezed my leg. It had been a year since my last interaction with another male, and his gesture sent shivers up my spine. Much as I had never imagined any action with him, I found myself becoming overwhelmed with lust. As his hand remained on my leg, I gently placed my hand over his and caressed it. To my amazement, he did not retract his hand, and soon it started moving up my leg before his little finger commenced flicking my crotch.

“I have always believed that you and I have a lot in common,” Scully huskily murmured. 

Unable to restrain my horniness, I salaciously muttered, “I look forward to you being my daddy this weekend.”

Scully now instantly pulled off the side of the road with his eyes were ablaze with lust as the vehicle stopped. Next, his lips fervently attacked my mouth, with his tobacco-flavoured tongue sloshing inside my mouth, as he hornily grunted.

In that instant, my former infantile sexual encounters got elevated to a new level of intensity as I succumbed to his ardent onslaught.

When his mouth finally relinquished my lips, stands of lubricious spittle connected us.

Scully was hyperventilating as he said, “Let’s get to our destination, so I can set up the tent and fuck the hell out of you. I am so glad you are over sixteen because I have waited very long for this.”      

Fortunately, we were only ten minutes away from our destination.

With darkness beginning to fall once we arrived, Scully worked at the speed of light erecting our tent.

“We can eat later,” Scully gushed, “But now I need to fuck… Have you ever been fucked before?”

“No,” I nervously whimpered.

“Oh, baby, now your cherry will always belong to me,” he growled as he encapsulated my body. “Don’t worry, Mark, my cock leaks slime like a faucet, so you won’t feel any pain.”

As Scully vigorously kissed me, clothes magically evaporated from our bodies, and soon we were only wearing underpants. My curiosity by now got the better of me, and I could not wait to push my hand in his underwear. As my fingers encapsulated his long unctuous snake, I got overwhelmed by a greasy swamp of moisture. In reciprocation, Scully’s hand slid into my crack as fingers vigorously tormented my pucker.

“Jesus, I’m going to fuck the shit out of you,” he snorted before placing me on my back and ripping my underpants off me. As he lifted my legs and my arse raised upward, my view of him was obscured. To my delight, I got introduced to what I would only later learn was rimming. Scully mashing lips and gnawing teeth now went ballistic on my balloon knot. Anxious as I was, I was beyond caring as I got enveloped in an erotic wonderland.

It did not take too long before his soggy serpent began snuffling at my lair. In a primordial ritual, the snake then entered my burrow robustly, as if in pursuit of its quarry. I let out a high-pitched groan as my backside finally learned its future purpose. The discomfort was delirious heavenly as I succumbed to his ardent machinations. As his energetic hips began their conquest, I was in complete ecstasy.

With Scully’s icky hands in control of my head, his thick tongue in my mouth, and probing cock in my backside, unequivocally underlined their supremacy, as I became the receptacle of his domination. I was in such a state of euphoria that time stood still, and I had no idea how long bliss lasted until Scully seeded my arse.

When I finally had a good look at Scully’s cock the following day, I have to admit that it was the ugliest dick I had ever seen. His cock looked like a translucent eel from the depths of the Mariana trench, laced with purplish veins. It had a downward curve and a phimosis pucker overhanging the head of his dick. My voracious backside, however, unequivocally approved. The ugly eel, however, proved to be a hit in my receptive throat. I love sucking his dick! 

My angler’s weekend was the pinnacle of my life, and the two days I spent with Scully were incredible.

We also caught a shitload of fish, which impressed my mother.

Upon our return, Scully waxed lyrical about my efforts. Initiating many future trips, thereafter. 

“I am glad you enjoyed your outing. Scully is a nice person, and I am pleased you have a father figure in your life,” my mother gushed once Scully had dropped me off.    

“Me too, mom,” I answered, with a huge smile, before adding, “I have always missed having a daddy.”