By Mighty Mouth

 I swear to you, dear reader, that everything I say is true and without exaggeration. Our family’s move from the city to our 3rd farm did not diminish my sexual contacts. At times, I would hitchhike home after classes ended at my high school. I continued this practice while at the local university. Only men stopped to pick me up, women never. The drivers could see that I was farm schoolboy with books and probably no threat. I developed a scientific routine. When a car stopped, I asked the driver how far he was going. He would answer ATo so and so point.@ That gave me a chance to get a good look at him. If I didn’t like what I saw, or there was more than one person in the car, I would reply that I was going farther and didn’t want to miss a later ride that would take me to my destination. They usually understood and drove off. If I liked what was inside, I would accept, even though often they weren’t going far at all. I even rejected great-looking guys if they were only going a very short distance. I would calculate how much time I would need to accomplish my ends, and if it were insufficient, I sent them on their way.

Once inside their car, on the passenger side, I would begin my spiel. I quickly brought the subject to sex. If I saw they were uncomfortable, I stopped that conversation. If they opened up, I would press them further. I’d ask if a woman ever gave them a blow job. Many would answer yes. I then would ask, "How about a man?" Some would admit they had, and some would say they hadn’t. If their reaction was hostile, I changed to other topics. If they already had a man do it, I would ask, "Want one now?" The answer was usually yes. For those who answered they never had a man do it, I would ask if they would they do it if they had the chance. Again, a negative reaction ended the questions. If they replied yes, they would consider it, I would close in for the kill.

It was easy to find deserted back roads where I could perform. Often, I made two or three conquests on the way home. No one ever became belligerent afterwards. I choose people well. I estimate my success rate was six out of ten. I began to mark a calendar each day with a number representing my conquests. After a month or so, I was staggered at how many I had accumulated and I stopped keeping count.

One of my mother’s sisters and her husband and son visited us at the farm about 1948. I had not seen this male cousin for about three years. I was near seventeen and he was six months older. He had developed into a gorgeous teenage stud. With sinister thoughts, I invited him to "see the farm." I’m sure we had walked no more than a few yards from the house when I propositioned him. He readily accepted and we both enjoyed it. I felt no remorse at this act of "incest." I’m just happy I didn’t have a brother anywhere my own age.

I had a few sexual experiences with fellow students in my high school. At times I would stay in school after classes ended to wait the hour or two until I would meet my dad to drive us home. I would study in the auditorium, where I was usually alone. Once there was another guy there. He was someone I had seen around school, and I thought he was the greatest. He was ntall, muscular, and handsome. I had wanted him from first sight. I struck up a conversation and quickly got to the point. He accepted and we went behind the curtain on the stage. I had my way with him. This became an off-and-on occurrence. He once invited me to his house in the West End. He told me to enter the side entrance, turn right, go up the stairs to the second floor, and enter such-and-such bedroom. I don’t know how I had the balls to do this, but I went. When I quietly entered the side entrance I could hear the TV in the living room. I imagined that the rest of his family was there, but perhaps he was alone in the house. My heart was in my throat. I was afraid that someone would spot me and call the police to report an intruder. I went to the designated bedroom and there he was. Afterwards he escorted me downstairs, and I was out of the house.

I ran into him on the street a couple of years out of high school and he went with me to my windowless room for sex. By coincidence, my friend Fred had known him in the Air Force. Fred said, "You know, I always wondered about him."


Mighty Mouth


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