My name is Martin. I live in Belle River, a small town in southwestern Ontario, Canada, near Windsor where my father is foreman at General Motors, just across Detroit, USA. I have brown hair and chestnut eyes. I measure 5-foot-11 and weigh 156 pounds[1]. I’m in grade 12 at Belle River High School. I will graduate next month, in June 1961.
On my 18th birthday, end of May, I get a new pair of blue jeans. I am so pleased because they are Wranglers, just like the ones worn by Barry, a classmate who plays tough and often teases me by yelling out “come here sissy!”. On one or two occasions, he even calls me “cocksucker”, a word that I do not really comprehend; the term sounds like an insult because it triggers laughter amongst other guys. To be honest, such comments do bother me that much. In fact, I like to stick around and admire Barry. He is well-built. He is handsome. His crotch and his butt wrapped in Wrangler jeans excite me.
“How do you get your denim pants to look so faded and so tight-fitted?”, I ask timidly.
“Mom washes them many times and they dry out in the sun”, he replies with a twinkle in his eyes.
I obviously invite my mother to do exactly that. She wonders why my new Wranglers need to be washed on a weekly basis. I explain that they are too loose, that each wash & dry results in a snugger fitting. I’m not going to say that tight jeans make me feel sexy, but that is the case. Before getting undressed at night, I often caress my crotch, gradually get hard, pull out my rod, and start masturbating. I have never seen another guy jerk off, but my cock seems pretty juicy. I always end up by licking my fingers. I like the sweet and sour taste of my creamy load.
Once, I heard Barry bragging that his hard dick reaches 9.5 inches, and that he can easily shoot six tablespoons of jizz. Pure exaggeration, if you want my opinion. But don’t get me wrong: his bulge remains impressive, his butt also, and I’m definitely attracted to this guy. I think of Barry when I play with my dick. Any hint of reciprocity remains however hard to find. In the corridors, on the playground, in the locker room, and on the high school bus, my grade 12 classmate acts like a perfect straight macho dude.
Graduation is just around the corner. In September, I will attend University of Ottawa, in the nation’s capital, 500 miles north of Belle River. Right now, all the attention is put on the prom dance in the school gymnasium. Barry and I are not dating any particular girl, but decide to attend the event, to socialize around the punch bowl. We are both wearing our tight faded Wrangler jeans. One thing is sure, I’m the only one who is seen as a “fucking faggot”. But I am soon the find out that this is far from being the truth…
Since smoking is not allowed inside the school, Barry sneaks out once in while for a cigarette. I decide to follow him, and he offers me a puff. When my classmate sees how I’m choking, he gets closer to show me how to inhale properly. I first feel his breath on my face, followed by his hand on my butt. He looks around to be sure that no one is watching, then kisses me in a rough manner. I’ve been dreaming of a man-to-man contact for so long, and it’s now happening. Holy fuck, I’m on cloud nine! We embrace and kiss again. I rub my bulge against his, and can’t help feeling that his rod is barely half the size of mine. On the other hand, his ass is so peachy and arousing.
“Martin, I want’ you to fuck my ass! I know you’ve been worshipping my butt ever since we started high school.”
“You are right, Barry. And your tight faded Wrangler blue jeans make your ass even more inviting. Where can we have fun together?”
“Follow me. I have dad’s car tonight; I will drive you to our barn, the perfect place to fool around in the hay stack.”
On that note, we decide to hold our own carnal graduation dance. Barry is amazed by my thick 8.5-inch cut piece of meat. He sucks and gags on my pulsing rod, then lubricates his ass hole with lithium grease[2]. “My older brother Ralph has fucked me a few times, but you are way better endowed, Martin. I want you to shove that mighty rod deep inside my starving ass hole!”
This is all new to me. I have only seen bulls displaying male-male mounts[3]. However, the sight of Barry’s bubble butt acts as an immersion course into gay fucking. Everything feels natural, everything flows as if I am an anal penetration expert. Even if Barry urges me to go in with the might of my powerful tool, I choose a moderate pace at first, then accelerate the pounding rhythm. I want to make the ass fun last; I don’t want to empty my supply of cum in a jiffy or “in two shakes of a lamb’s tail”, as our English teacher would say. Our moans of pleasure gradually become cries of physical sensations. The tension built-up not only leads to orgasm but to a deep connection. I’m officially a fag… and I’m enjoying it behind the barn’s closed doors.
I’m already imagining how we will cock-ass bound next time. I also want to have more oral sex. Barry lets me suck his small dick and tight hairy balls; he loves to ejaculate in my mouth. His creamy nectar has a different flavor, something like grapefruit juice. We mostly meet for a good fuck in the hay stack. One day, Barry tells me that he has a surprise for me... He shared his experience with his brother Ralph and has invited him to our next encounter. My classmate is way more better looking, but suddenly becomes shy in the presence of his elder sibling who is a hairy guy with a medium-size dick. Ralph has a very simple and direct plan: “Martin, you will fuck Barry in the ass while I will shove my cock in your tight little butt.” A threesome is new to me. So is getting pounded. I am suddenly in the fast lane of gay sex, both active and passive!
I am sure that, in the years to come, I will never forget the Summer I turned 18. I will definitely remember how my life has taken a new direction. I’m quite sure that I will never stop wearing tight faded Wrangler jeans. Whoever invented those worn out pants should get an award as important as the Oscars!
[1] Canada is an officially metric-using country that only began a voluntary conversion from the British Imperial system in 1970.
[2] In the 1960s, the best grease for agricultural equipment was typically a lithium grease, which was the most common and effective general-purpose lubricant of the era.
[3] Bulls displaying male-male mounts or buller syndrome can indicate several social and behavioral contexts, including establishing dominance hierarchies, social bonds, or responding to the absence of females during mating season.
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