Date: Sun, 1 Sep 2013 21:19:50 -0700 (PDT)
From: L M <l121happy@rocketmail.com>
Subject: No Old Trolls

No Old Trolls

I read these words from some twenty five year old crying out to have
someone give him anal.  I thought to myself what a different time we live
in.  Back when I was twenty you met men furtively in parks and under
bathroom stalls for what you hoped would be getting to see another guy's
dick, maybe a touch or if things went really well a blowjob.  You ran big
risks; not only from cops or security but also that you'd make a mistake
and make a pass at a straight guy who would flip out.  You could get the
living daylights beat out of you for that kind of foul up.

The idea of opening your legs to receive a guy's dick up the ass was
unfamiliar; you fantasized about dicks but not the idea of taking one up
the backside.  We had guys in school who I now know were gay but I was so
naïve I couldn't figure out why they were so popular.  The girls loved
them—I was so jealous, but now I realize they were considered to be just
like one of the girls to the others.

My discovery that I liked the other white meat than pork came soon after I
had my first sex with a girl.  I was almost nineteen years old.  A friend's
girl who was also nineteen had broken up.  I was hanging out for
companionship with her and another guy.  I was using her as the safety
screen to hide behind which allowed me to be very near him.  He'd ride me
around on his motorcycle and I loved putting my arms around his waist so
close to his dick to hang on.  He had a nice dick that I saw once in the
shower when we went swimming at a friends house.  He had this unusual
laugh, an extra loud hiccup of a laugh that went like Hyup, Hyup, Hyup
which made going to comedy movies pretty embarrassing.  I was too busy
reading the outline of his jeans to mind. Yet he seemed clueless so I was
unable to figure out a way to go further.

The girl we hung out with had her own place.  I was hanging out watching a
late night movie alone with her and made advances which she didn't
reject. She was quite heavy-set but I was so frustrated from never actually
getting to make love she was my target.  The next day we went to my house
and in front of her my brother confronted me since he saw our attraction.
He said "so are you two boyfriend and girlfriend" and I was embarrassed and
stammered, "not really yet".  She was very hurt and though we stayed
friends it was never the same.  She married my friend and little was ever
said about it again.  She even introduced me to my future wife.

Soon after the abortive affair I was seduced by a much older male
co-worker.  We were riding around doing work things and he kept making
suggestive remarks like "blow me", "fuck me running", and "God I'm horny"
and he spent a lot of time rubbing his dick in plain sight.  We all worked
together in an office with other people.  The light in my head dawned that
he was coming on to me.  I looked at him and he looked at me.  There is a
point in any male attraction where you both drop your guard and go for it.
We adjourned to a fold down couch that was in the back room; nobody else
was in the office that day.  He orally introduced me to man love right
there on that two- tone fold-down naughahyde couch and I was hooked.

This was a one-time thing.  We would meet again later and talk like old
friends about the culture but he was a mentor to me who I could bounce
ideas off of.  It was the framework for a lifetime of guys meeting, hooking
up and then moving on; like two travelers meeting on the trail.

I soon married and thought that marriage would satisfy these strange
desires that I felt for men.  That lasted for a while until one day when my
wife was waiting for me outside the men's room at a JC Penney's.  I was
stuck with the handicapped stall and the seat was hooked up to the flush
valve.  When you stood up it automatically flushed.  That was fine but the
problem was the sanitary paper gasket that you put down to sit on.  Every
time I would sit down on it the darn thing would flush away the paper seat
cover before I could land my butt on it.  I tried about three times.  By
the third time I was frustrated to the point of amusement so I began to
laugh.  I finally landed on one that I managed to keep in place.  Gathering
my focus for the job ahead I realized that there was a foot extended from
the other side of the stall, and the foot was tapping.  Feeling a little
confused about what that meant, I read the scrawl on the stall wall that
said "tap foot for sex".  Ah ha, that is what he is interested in.  I
tapped back.  The foot stopped tapping, slid closer and began to tap again.
I tapped again.  Now the foot touched all the way under the stall wall,
right up against my shoe.  I sat there watching.  I knew something was
going on but I didn't know what to do.  A hand extended under the wall and
rubbed my bare leg above my pants.  Then a finger reached under the wall
and beckoned me.

I realized this fellow wanted me to have sex, I got down and was helped
into position by his hands and he stroked my penis, the touch felt
electric.  He rubbed a few moments and then I felt something completely
different as his mouth enveloped my dick.  It was warm and wet and he slid
all the way up against my pubes with me inside him.  I was completely
erect, his hands were around my balls gently and one hand was behind them
touching that skin fold that runs from them back toward my backside.

My wife had never imagined giving me something like this; she gave oral sex
kind of like some people eat ears of corn.  She worked up and down my dick
using way too many teeth and in fact had a jaw problem that we later had to
treat called TMJ.  That once corrected allowed her to open her mouth fully
but in the early days it was rough.

The fellow under the stall had hairy legs, he had one up against my leg as
he blew me with great softness; tenderness that was amazing.  He would let
my dick out of his mouth for a moment and stroke which made me strain
forward to get him to resume the sucking.  In fact if I could be sucked off
the rest of my life like this I would die a very happy man.  My heart was
pounding and I could scarcely hear a thing, just the waves of feeling that
flowed through every fiber of my body.  Then he'd go right back up on my
dick with his lips-- so gentle, now that I think about it he was flicking
his tongue on that most sensitive under part of my penis head.  His mouth
felt like my dick was inside a soft, wet, velvet-filled rubber ball that
gently absorbed my manhood, leading, encouraging; needing my climax.

I realize now that we were linked together in that moment, he was giving, I
was taking. In another blink of time it was reversed, I was giving, and he
was taking. Still with my dick in his mouth I totally lost it, erupted into
his mouth, ropes and ropes of snowy white sperm.  He gulped down every
drop.

In later sessions other men would let it shoot right on the floor but this
fellow took it all.  Some guys torture you afterward with their mouth,
holding on too long, forcing your dick along like a wayward step child
using a Hoover vacuum cleaner on you.  My unseen friend this time let me go
just beyond the edge of perfection and I collapsed like a burst balloon on
the other side of the wall.  As outside sounds returned to me he left.  I
never saw him again; never saw him that time but I owe him a debt.

In just a moment I realized that the rest of my life was still waiting
outside the door.  I pasted my sorry ass back together, legs still wobbling
and went outside to my wife.  She was perceptive enough to know I was
taking forever but she could never connect what it all meant so she soon
forgot and we moved on.  I learned that day what I had inklings of before,
I was bisexual and I can control the act but not the feeling.  I can make
love to a woman, be thinking about the man, then mount the man and be
thinking about the woman, just everything turns me on.  I'm not deviant, I
spent years being told just how bad I was by this or that measure.

My wife finally forced the truth out of me; incorrectly labeled me as gay
and dumped me thirty years later.  I had kids and a life.  Now I sit
waiting and some young guys would call me an old troll.

I love to give blowjobs and do sixty nine.  It seems like there is a great
divide of men in the life we live.  I am fifty something.  For some reason
my age bracket is very inactive.  There is a crowd in their sixties that
chase you and there is a crowd that is twenty to thirty that seems to
either like to tease you or when times are tough they do you.  Why do they
call you a troll, which is an insult and then call you to fuck them in the
ass?  Call me confused.

When I do it with a young guy I am reminded of my first time and I try to
make it very good "star sex" for them.  These guys seem to really focus on
them getting anal sex from me.  I don't mind anal sex as a giver but I have
never received.  I practice safe sex and frankly anal is a step further
than I am really into.  I can do it but a blowjob is fine.  I try to remove
that "take it in the ass now punk" sensation that lots of pornography seems
to program us for.  I don't care a lot for that part anyway since it is
risky and way too dramatic for my tastes.

A lot of guys seem to prefer hookups like some kind of sex machine; you'll
receive texts at 3:30 in the morning.  These guys want no talk, they want
no kisses and to give them a feeling that they will remember as different
and won't feel it is dirty is very hard to do.  I never answer these texts
till later in the day since I think they just have blue balls from their
girlfriend.

If they do contact me later and we get together I show them how to pace
themselves. I show them that they heighten their own sexual experience by
sucking me as I suck them, the energy flow that just goes between the two
of us, how to play safe in risky times.  I try to help them to understand
when someone calls you a name like troll it hurts and create some
sensitivity.  I don't have to believe it myself.  Someday I believe it will
be enough just to remember but even trolls have feelings.  The ability may
fade but the desire continues on.