Date: Tue, 9 Dec 2014 21:55:28 +0000
From: Jo HOrny <daddyseeker14@gmail.com>
Subject: Horny Young Joe Part 1

I love to hear feedback, especially from horny daddies.

My email address is daddyseeker14@gmail.com


PROLOGUE

I don't regret who I am at all. I can't imagine my life any other way, and
I love my life.

So, I don't have any regrets.

This is the story of how I became a faggot. Oh, I know that the word has
many negative connotations, but I was taught what it truly meant a few
years ago. And the realization that I was a faggot has freed me.

I am not going to lie about the motivations of some of the men I have met;
lots of them wants to use me for sex, and I let them. It's that word that
is the sticking point for many people. Use. If I am used for sex, am I a
victim. Sometimes maybe, but most of the time the use goes two ways. We
both get what we want from the experience.

So will start from the beginning.

And the beginning, for me, is Mr Dodds.

----------------------------------------

Part 1 - MEETING MR DODDS

My parents worked all the time. They were typical middle class LA type:
Mother is a lawyer, and father is a Movie Exec. When they were at home,
they ignored each other, and only barely noticed me. I know some of you
will say this is the root cause of who am.

Of course it is!

We are what our parents make us, until we can control our own destiny that
is.

When they were at home, Dad was coked out of his head most of the time, and
Mom drank wine.

So, from about the age of 9 I was left to my own devices in the house. And
an unfiltered internet.

This was back in 2008.

What really spurred on my situation is that I went through some kind of
early puberty. By that, I mean that my hormones kicked in. I was rubbing
and touching my penis constantly and everything got me horny.

It wasn't long before I started looking at pictures on the web. It was men
that got be excited from the get go, and I began to collect pictures on my
computer to look at over and over.

Older men did it for me.

And then I discovered the dating sites and chat rooms. They all said you
had to be 18 to get in there, but that was easy to fake. I had long ago
taken one of my Dad's credit cards. He hadn't missed it or cancelled it,
and most of the sites just needed a card as proof of age.

I trawled those sites looking for men to talk to. It excited me, not just
in the sexual sense, but I loved chatting to people online. My profile
always said I was 18, but I quickly learnt that I could indicate otherwise
by what I said. Some men immediately stopped chatting to me when they
guessed, and I was booted from a site on more than one occasion.

But others stayed to chat.

Mr Dodds was one such individual. I liked the pic on his profile; is showed
a tall man in a suit. He was in his forties, and had a ruggedly handsome
face. I rubbed at my crotch through my PJs as I stared at the pic, and then
clicked to open up a chat with him.

"Hello Sir," I said. I always pays to be polite.

After a few seconds, he replied. "Hi there Joe." My profile name was
HornyYoungJoe. Joseph is my middle name.

"Do you want to chat?" I asked.

"Sure. Are you horny?" he said.

"I am always horny!"

"LOL!"

The small-talk continued for a few minutes until I said, "I have to go
soon. It's nearly my bedtime."

There was a pause from his end, then "It's a bit early isn't it?"

"My Mom will be up to tuck me in soon." It was a lie. My Mom hadn't tucked
me in for at least three years.

Another pause. "OK, well I hope you sleep well. Have you got school
tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"What is you favorite subject?"

"Math," I said, "We are doing our nine-times-tables tomorrow." It was a
lie. I had done those last year. But it had the desired effect.

"It's great that you love Math, sweetie. that was my favorite subject too."

At the time I thought I was just being friendly. I knew that I felt
something when I chatted to these men, but I was very naive.

We chatted for another 30 minutes before he asked me if I had a pic. I
hadn't put any up on any site for obvious reasons. I had a few on my
computer; safe ones of my face, and one of me playing soccer. I sent them
both over to him.

There was a long pause this time.

Then, "Is this really you Joey?"

"Yes sir".

"Wow! You are cute."

"Thanks."

Another long pause.

"Whereabouts do you live?"

"Mar Vista, by the airport."

"OK. Cool. I am quite near you."

We chatted some more about soccer. He managed to compliment my picture a
lot, saying how nice he thought I looked in shorts.  I was getting a really
nice vibe off him, so when he asked if I wanted to meet him on Saturday, I
said yes almost straight away.

"How about I meet you outside the Museum of Flying at 9am?"

I knew where that was, and it was easy for me to walk to. "Sure. Are we
going to go round the museum."

"Probably not. I just know it has easy parking."

So there it was. An innocent meet-up arranged over the internet. I thought
I was going to meet a new friend, and thought nothing much about it until
Saturday morning came around.

As I was getting dressed that day I remember I thought about what he had
said about me looking good in shorts. I chose a pair of soccer shorts that
were not very long at all, and a white t-shirt. As usual, my parents didn't
care much about what I was doing. I said goodbye to my Mom who was talking
with the housekeeper about something. There was a frown on the Mexican
woman's face as I left the house; I am sure she disapproved of my mothers
parenting style. I made it to the museum in good time after taking some
money out of an ATM with my Dad's credit card.

Just in case.
Who knew what was going to happen?