![turned gay porn stories turned gay porn stories](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1607354876i/56199349._UY1200_SS1200_.jpg)
"Was that so bad?" Max asked, a touch of humor in his tone. The release ws exquisite, as I felt the thick shaft withdraw from my ass, and we both lay panting on the bed, exhausted.
#TURNED GAY PORN STORIES TORRENT#
I felt Max explode inside me, and a torrent of cum shot from my cock, which hadn't been touched. He pumped harder and harder, grunting and puffing, and suddenly I was moving toward one of the most powerful orgasms I'd ever had. "You're going to cum, Jack," Max whispered. Nor that what had started with pain was now filling me with pleasure! Oh, God, I was liking this! It felt.wonderful. I hated it!Īnd yet, my own cock was starting to betray me by getting harder and harder as the forceful thrusts continued, and there was no doubt that I had become aroused. I no longer felt manly I felt like a woman being raped. It was a sensation like nothing I'd experienced before, not really that unpleasant once I adjusted to what was happening.
![turned gay porn stories turned gay porn stories](http://th4.dirtypornvids.com/th/JDx/78971795.jpg)
He was all the way in, and began moving, rocking, in and out. Slowly, as if feeling its way, the shaft of his cock followed the glans in, an inch at a time. I felt myself being stretched, and cried out, but suddenly his glans penis was all the way in, and the pain subsided a little. The head of his cock probed my ass hole, gradually insinuating itself inside me. Something cold and greasy-lube-was being spread over my anus, and then none too gently pushed inside. I felt him pull my boxers down with one hand, while another arm held me in a vise. I was pretty buff, but Max was much bigger and obviously strong as an ox. I felt his cock against me, almost fully erect now, and big. Or were the rumors about Max being gay true? Could I be moving up the corporate ladder? Single malt Scotch.īeyond doubt, Max was taking a special interest in me. Earlier, he'd paid for my dinner, filet mignon and an incredible French red wine, a vintage Bordeaux, and later, drinks at the bar. He had made the arrangements for this Wisconsin sales meeting, which is why I was in a king size bed with him. He was a big guy, a body builder type, and an ex-wrestler. Max was my boss, Area Sales Manager for the corporation that owned the sporting goods store I managed in Ohio.
![turned gay porn stories turned gay porn stories](http://th6.dirtypornvids.com/th/sJx/79266981.jpg)
He moved even closer, and I could feel his cock against my ass, and it was semi-hard. So I do.I had almost fallen asleep when, to my horror, I felt Max snuggle close to me, put his arms around me. If they don’t, then may stern justice prevail over mercy.Īs for me, I remain straight to this day, though I occasionally spice up my sex life with homosexual encounters. Life is messy, but I had to pick myself up from the dirt and live. If perceptions diverge, then these distinctions should be acknowledged in educating young males about their gender privilege. I would like to merely question the perceptions of penetration upon male and female bodies, and also upon white and colored bodies. I share my experience not to challenge the authenticity of rape traumas or condone the atrocity of perpetrators. The global obsession with chastity seems driven not only by evolutionary biology of genital infections and paternal uncertainty, but by the patriarchal structures that sought to ensure male domination over female bodies. In contrast to Dionysian Greeks, Christians espoused sacrosanctity of the body and paranoia over organs of pleasure, while also preaching confession and forgiveness. I don’t think the ancient Greek philosophers and Japanese samurais who were anally penetrated as boys developed lasting psychological traumas. But I suspect that the intensity of psychological distress may be culturally amplified. I don’t presume to know what it feels like to dwell in a woman’s body and psyche. I did not go through the gauntlet of sterilizing medical and legal procedures. I returned to the Mother Teresa House the next day. The world is not all roses, and the crooked timber of humanity will deflower you if opportunities arise. Curled in a ball and still high, I passed out.įor whatever reason, I haven’t been scathed. I shared what had transpired with fellow Americans at the hostel, and they sympathized by offering more weed.