Date: Wed, 24 Nov 2004 13:57:48 -0800 (PST)
From: gloryhole junkie <ghj_4u@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Letters From Home" 1

LETTERS FROM HOME 1

By Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE
ghj_4u@yahoo.com


DISCLAIMER & ADVANCED WARNING:

What you are about to read (should you continue) are genuine life
experiences culled from a number of your fellow readers and "fans" of the
author. These "letters" depict actual sexual encounters, which occurred
during the childhood of a wide variety of these male readers.

Each true experience has been sent or otherwise related to the author by a
vast number of Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE "fans" over a period of years.

None are certifiable in their veracity but let it be stated that each man
claims the story which he tells is a completely true one.

For clarity of storytelling, all letters have been slightly modified and/or
re-told by the author although the situation, details and spirit remain as
true to the originals as is possible.

All of the following "Letters from Home" depict direct and, at times,
extremely hardcore sexual acts, which have actually occurred between men
and very young boys.

Do not read if you are offended by such true-life stories.
Do not read if you are offended by sexually explicit material.
Do not read if you are offended by behaviors of a decidedly homosexual nature.
Do not read if you are offended by the reality of sexual acts, which at
times occur between men and boys.
Do not read if you are offended by incest in general.
Do not read if you are offended by homosexual incest between fathers and sons.
Do not read if you are offended by Internet all-male erotic literature.
Do not read if you are a minor.
Do not read if you reside in a locale where such material is prohibited.
Do not read if you are easily "inspired to action" by others' stories.
Do not read if you are a male babysitter looking for stories to read to the
boys at bedtime.
Do not read if you are in an airport terminal waiting room. Fellow
passengers, many of them families, will notice the tent that the erection
within your slacks will create.
Do not read if you are at Christian Bible camp for thou shalt surely wander
into a pup tent and break a Commandment.
Do not read if you are a dad whose wife is away on business, leaving you
all alone for a week with only your two-year-old son. Oh, you know why.
Do not read if you are a wife or mother easily upset by the reality which
just might be lurking within your own home (not to make you all paranoid or
anything).

Never engage in sex with a minor.



PREFACE:

Being an "erotic literary figure" has its perks. As "Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE",
I relate detailed accounts from my own salacious childhood and in return,
numerous men share their own similar experiences with me.

It's not so much that I solicit such intimately personal exchanges.
Instead, it is simply that men need a "someone they can trust" - a someone
to whom they can (at last) tell the true story of, what I call their hidden
essential sexuality.

I feel quite privileged to be what may be that one person out there on the
peripheries of their life, with whom these guys can open up and "get off
their (hairy) chests" the secret reality of what they (and so many other
boys and men) think and experience sexually.

And its ironic how oftentimes those on the periphery of someone's life are
the ones most capable of getting to the heart of that someone's life. For
what is tossed to the periphery is often that singular revelation which
ranges from what is their "simple perversion" to the deeply psychological
core of their very being.

Some men use the opportunity to drop me the one-liner variety of e-mail to
tell me (to tell someone) the biggest secret of their whole, entire life,
"Hey guy, I'm in the NFL and I never told this to anybody before - but I
love sucking big, juicy, uncut cocks!"

Hmmm. And how sad that some football wife is out there spending her entire
life trying to figure out what color she can dye her hair in order to make
him "happy".

And, it's staggering the slew of those regular guys out there (YOU guys)
who tell me, "I'm straight. Well, 99% straight. But what guy doesn't get
off in the campus showers or Y sauna? Hell, I love my wife/girlfriend but
you can't beat m2m sex for pure, animal hot fun."

Ah! And girls always seem to think that jocks are only buddies with other
jocks in order to better pick-up women at bars!

Other male readers (the dads out there) often write of far more secretive
truths - darker things, such as: "Father of three here. I'd never touch my
kids but I sure do fantasize about seeing all three of them in a motel room
with a bunch of nasty, strange men. You tap into what we dads are thinking.
Continue the valuable work you do."

And you have to laugh because you just know that every time they drive past
a Motel 6 and he springs a rod in his slacks, that his wife starts her
way-off-track grilling of, "You are sleeping with Mindy, aren't you? You
tryst with her at motels! Don't deny it! I can see what the mere sight of a
sleazy motel does to you!"

Then there is the simply enormous numbers of men (Wow-factor numbers of
you!) who send me letters along the lines of: "If I could do anybody, it
would be my dad. What a fucking hot cock on him. I always wanted to suck on
my dad's cock and eat his sperm. Man, you were lucky. I wish I had had the
guts when I was seven years old to grope my dad while he slept. My ONE
regret in life is that I never sucked off or got fucked by my own father."

Golly, wouldn't it be amazing if all the dads out there knew they had
someone in their own household who would blow them anytime and anywhere
they needed it? If only as many dads realized that their own sons want to
suck down their seed as there are sons willing to do it (my, but we'd all
have fabulous Thanksgiving family get-togethers, wouldn't we?)!

Meanwhile, still other men send off far more luridly calculating e-mail to
say, "My wife and I just had our first. I never really thought much about
my son sexually before. But you now got me thinking. And you know what? He
does look like a little cocksucker the more I watch him sucking on that
pacifier."

These sorts of notes and letters most usually relate those things that men
fear they can never share with anyone else - on the entire planet. And
worse than that simple fear, these men more deeply fear that they perhaps
never will be able to share these things - things which they know are at
the foundation or are the essence of their very being.

People want to be understood - even if it requires someone else doing all
the work to figure them out. Men hold a secret to their innermost self. And
they want someone to know it. But sadly, while some "inner most secrets"
are merely rather depraved, other secrets are so socially unacceptable,
that they are expected to disappear - misunderstood, uncirculated and
most-hopefully, never even spoken.

That is perhaps why there is so much turmoil in the world. Men carry an
enormous amount of baggage with them. Baggage they feel they can never -
because they are not permitted - to unload.

It is perhaps why women may never understand men. And why men will always
on some level think that women are "stupid" - stupid for never getting to
what is at their core.

Why does that well-hung corporate exec only wear Hanes boxers? Want to know
the real reason why?

His wife thinks its because he's cheap. After all, he could afford better
stuff. And his son thinks its because his dad's a fuddy dud. And his tailor
thinks its due to the way he "dresses to the left".

But if you really...really...want to know, its because it's the same brand
and style his old man wore all the time. When he was kid, lying on his
tummy with a boner, he stared at his own dad wearing and bulging in the
same type of Hanes boxer. Heck, to get down to it - it's the first
underwear he ever stuck his hand into as he was permitted to fondle his
dad's meaty cock through its fly.

And now, in a sense, as a man, he's psycho-sexually stepped into his own
dad's boxers - and well-hung masculinity - by always wearing those same
sort of Hanes.

They are what make him feel "manly" and "confident". They are the reason
he's a power broker at work. They are what make him "feel" sexual. They are
what he knows catches the eye of other men on the train. And they are the
calculated method he employs to show off what he's got to his own son.

He knows all of that - even if no one else does or cares to ever know the
truth. Those Hanes boxers, in a sense, are at the core of his being.

Whodda thunk such a thing?

And see? Now that YOU know, you can understand why he's never-ever going to
tell anybody within his sphere the real reason he wears them.

But he might tell you or me - men lurking on the sexual periphery of his
life - men who understand the power of big dick in underwear and of a boy's
early encounters with such power. And as he tells us his "secret", we
profoundly know more about his intrinsic self than does anyone who lives or
works or eats or sleeps or even breeds with him.

And this need to share such "secrets", which would otherwise be kept in a
box (one with a very tight lid on it), is the real driving power of the
Internet. For suddenly such inner truths about men have sprung out of that
box...and into Society's lap.

Forget Bill Pay and amazon.com and surfing for booby-porn. The real power
of the Internet is in the fact that the inner lives of men, vast
incalculable numbers of men, secretly held until now...are revealed.

And its shocking the things that have been revealed by hundreds of millions
of men around the globe. Let's think about it for a nano-second. What is
the one thing almost everyone immediately says about men and the Internet?

Yup: "Man, there are tons of pervs in the world, aren't there?!"

But, you know what? All those "pervs" are just regular men - and all were
walking the Earth before the Internet. Nothing intrinsically has changed
about the nature of men.

Instead what has changed is that Society can no longer remain ignorant of
or deny the nature of men and male sexuality. Women can no longer slip into
easy-thinking mode that their husbands cheat only with their bosomy
secretaries. Now these wives know that the odds are ten times higher that
when he's late from the office, he is getting his big dick sucked by other
men in some adult bookstore.

And a mom must now consider the possibility that no matter how big a
Wonderbra she's slung into, her husband just might be masturbating in the
bathroom upstairs while sniffing their son's Underoos.

That's right. Society cannot hide any longer behind the old thinking that
there are only a "handful of perverts in our nation's parks" or that there
is but "one dirty old man in the public toilets shoving cock into the
mouths of little boys". And Society knows it can no longer easily say that
there is only "one in a million fathers out there who are diddling with
their owns sons in the bath tub".

The Internet has proven that most males have a very deep, dark, inner
sexual self. Therefore, Society cannot blame everything on one
masturbating, unknown molester on the playground. For on the Internet, one
sees that millions of other men freely or hesitantly share the fact that
they, too, would love to be on that playground with that masturbating,
unknown molester. And, gosh, if one were to cram all the men who want to
watch a father have sex with his own son on the kid's twin bed, well, that
kid's bedroom had better be the size of the Astrodome.

Yeah, behavior and nature hasn't changed. Instead, what's been shocking has
been the revelation that droves of men - men all around us - everywhere one
may go - are doing (or wishing to do) such things.

What's most shocking about the Internet is not the lurid fantasies at which
it grabs, but, rather, the lurid truths it reveals.

Because of the Internet, a man in Vienna can tell a man in Virginia all
about his own toddler son's tiny, well lubed bottom.

Because of the Internet, a man in Virginia can tell a man in Venezuela all
about the tiny, well-lubed bottom of some toddler son of a man in Vienna.

And because of the Internet, that boy's mom must face the fact that men on
three continents are all beating off "together" as they discuss her toddler
boy's tiny, well-lubed bottom.

And that "news" can be eye-popping. Not because these men have invented
something new in order to amuse their libidos. But, instead, because it is
"secret information" which general Society has never before known or
considered about its men.

The same can be said of sex between fathers and their own sons or between
strange men and a tot. Some blame the Internet for bringing this phenomenon
into the world. Well, it's an easy target - and Society loves an easy
target since complexity is, well, too complicated to muddle through.

But the man of seventy damn well knows that the men who gangbanged him when
he was two-years-old certainly had never even dreamed of an Internet. And
the handsome dad of forty can easily assert that the Internet had nothing
to do with all the times his dad mounted his small butt whenever they were
alone. And, bottom line, what has the Internet really got to do with some
poverty-stricken dad in the trailerpark who, without the "aid" of a
computer or Internet connection, still unzips and has his kid suck on his
cock all day while watching re-runs of "Leave it to Beaver"?

It's these realities between men and boys which guys have experienced and
yet have so few opportunities or outlets to share them. After all, most men
are purposefully ushered past looking closely and truthfully at these sorts
of experiences in their own lives. Or perhaps more accurately, they are
ushered past sharing them...sometimes with anyone...under any
circumstances.

There often seems to be an unspoken rule that a boy should lay still, let
dad squirt seed into him...and then "fo'get aboudit" (or simply absorb the
experience into their life without ever telling anyone). And if the boy
enjoyed it on any level, all the more reason to silence him. Sometimes this
"rule" is foisted upon males in our Society and sometimes its
self-imposed. A boy, a young man, a middle-aged man, even an elderly man
becomes conditioned to keeping such things secret.

But, everyone needs a safety valve and that, of course, includes men who
want to share the stuff they cannot tell anyone else.

And we're in luck - because they will tell me.

What follows are completely true stories told to me by all sorts of men -
YOU GUYS - true accounts of sex which you guys, as boys, experienced with
men (and in these cases, with your own dads).

These are not related verbatim since some men share things in bits and
pieces, or can't write a coherent sentence, or have related their stories
casually to me over the years.

In the same way that I have had thousands of men ejaculate in me over the
years, I have also heard the childhood sex stories of thousands of
men. What is rather stunning is that few of these true childhood incest
stories are ever heard by anyone else in these men's lives. Thousands of
powerfully, life-forming incestuous encounters with their own fathers which
thousands of men could never before tell anyone.

And as the recipient of such personal stories, it is amazing what a
position that puts a guy such as myself. My understanding of men and of the
world cannot help but be "enlightened" by such knowledge - knowledge of men
and of what men have experienced. Things, which for numerous reasons, they
have felt could never before be relayed to anyone else. Its powerful and
humbling to be that one person whom a man of eighty can (at last) tell of
his molestation by five men when he was only a toddler. That man has told
neither of two wives, nor three children, nor ten grandchildren nor six
great-grandchildren nor any friend, war buddy, co-worker, neighbor or
psychiatrist or minister in all these seventy-eight years. But now we'll
read what those men did to him in 1926 when he was just two years of age.

Some of one's amazement can be attributed to the sheer quantities of sex
between men and boys (and mostly between dads and sons). And some of it can
be attributed to the fact that so many men, years and decades later, still
find that sexual encounter - despite marriages, kids, divorces, multiple
lovers, etc...still resonates and proves to be the most intensely erotic
within their life's experiences. It's sometimes the experience, in fact,
which most shaped their lives.

What follows are the first of many true accounts of sexual encounters,
which various men, when they were boys, had with their own fathers. They
have been related to me, the author, over a period of years. Each person
has consented to have his tale told and, therefore, each personal account
remains as close and true to the original telling as is possible. Some
stories are very brief while others are lengthier. They vary in their
levels of sexual contact and/or sexual awareness and consent.

All names have been changed to protect the nastiest dads among them.




LETTERS FROM HOME 1





Robert, age 49, Tulsa, Oklahoma

I was nine when this happened. We were raised in a fundamentalist Christian
house. My dad was a minister; my mother baked and played the organ. My
older brother, who is twelve years older than me was Youth minister at my
dad's church.

Saturday mornings I'd help clean the church for Sunday services. Polished
the pews, mopped the floors and general stuff like that. I'd help mother
sometimes do it. Some Fridays she couldn't make it and I'd do it alone. Or
sometimes a lady of the congregation came to help.

This was a Friday when mother couldn't be there. She called a lady to help
but the lady could not be there until noon. I got to the church at eleven
and I thought I was alone. Our house was next door to the church and I
thought my father was writing his sermon at the house.

When I turned on the lights in the church I heard a noise in the room that
was just off the entry. I didn't think anyone was really in the church
since I had to unlock it and then it was quiet. But I figured I'd go into
the room anyway. Sometimes a bird and one time a squirrel got into the
church.

I opened the door to the room used as a mix of storage and business account
files. It was very quiet and I saw my dad standing at a window. The shade
was down but the light came through. He was facing the window; his back was
to the door. I made some noise of surprise because I wasn't expecting to
find anyone in the church. My dad turned around and had the most surprised
look on his face. It was hard to see him because the lights weren't on and
the sunlight from the shade made contrasty shadows on him when he turned.

But I could see that his pants were down at his knees. My dad was
masturbating which was something I was scared was sinful and evil when I
was that age. My dad never said too much about masturbating but mother
often referred to the dirty deed boys must never do. And my big brother who
was 21 would yell at me if he ever saw even a hint of an erection on me.

But here was my father with his pants down. I looked hard into the shadow
and saw his penis was exposed. He had his underwear down too.

I remember saying I was real sorry. My father yelled at me and told me to
come into the room and to shut the door. I did it fast because when my
father told you to do something, you did it. The room smelled of dust and
paper. It was warm in there since the window was closed.

My father came around this one big desk that was in there. I watched his
penis coming near me. I had never seen it before. My dad was modest like my
whole family. I never even had seen it when he'd shower. It was the first
time seeing it and he was half-hard.

To me at nine years of age, his penis looked real big. I was circumcised
but I saw that my father's penis looked a little different. I came to know
he was intact and I was looking at foreskin.

He yelled at me for sneaking up on him and said that he bet I was trying to
catch him with his pants down. He started screaming something about the
perversion of Noah's son and that I probably wanted to do that to him.

I didn't know what he was talking about. At nine, I just knew Noah and his
ark. My dad accused me of wanting to have sex with him the way Noah's son
seduced Noah.

He then told me to look at what he had been looking at and yelled at me to
come to his side. He was carrying a magazine that he spread open on the big
desk. I had never seen anything like it. It showed a woman and a man both
sucking the cock of some other man.

My father pointed to the picture and said how wicked the people were. He
pointed to the woman and called her a harlot. And said the men would burn
for their abomination. He flipped pages and the man was eating white cream
from the penis of the other man while the woman shoved something between
her legs.

I was horrified but was sexually aroused. My father began masturbating in
front of me and said I was like the man eating the white cream. I didn't
know what the cream was and I was confused. But he kept looking at me as he
masturbated saying I was like the one sucking and eating the cream in the
pictures.

I stood there looking at my father masturbating in front of me not knowing
what to do.

He asked me if I was like Noah's son and I remember shaking my head. He
said that Noah had a son who sucked his penis. I didn't know anything about
sucking cock then (I learned since). My father yelled at me to kneel. And I
did it without even a flicker of hesitation. My father was boss of the
church, our family, of me.

I had his penis in my mouth before I knew what was happening. He was big
and looked a lot like Roy Rogers. Everybody always joked calling him
Reverend Roy although his name was Stuart. I was sucking my dad in the
church. I couldn't even move because he had a grip on my head. I suppose it
wasn't that firm a grip but if you knew my father, any grip he had on you
made you do what he wanted.

He came in my mouth that first time and I was scared. I thought he was
dying or having a heart attack. All this salty stuff was in my mouth. I
coughed because I hated the taste and it scared me. I didn't think a father
would do that in his own son's mouth. And I especially would never have
thought my father would do such a thing.

He came and then pushed me away. I got up, watching him pull up his
pants. I was terrified that I had done something real wrong. I knew it had
to be something evil I did to my dad. He said it was wicked what the people
in the magazine were doing and that Noah's son was evil. But I had just
done the same thing to him.

I shook out of fear still tasting his cum. When he closed his pants he took
the magazine and folded it into some papers he had with him. He came up to
me and I was expecting him to yell at me but he kissed me instead. He
kissed me on the lips. My father never kissed us boys. And he was kissing
me like I saw him only kiss mother. His tongue went into my mouth, making
me lose my breath because I wasn't expecting it.

He told me to say nothing about what I did to him because I would get into
trouble for doing such a thing to him. He then told me to get to cleaning
the church.

END.




Bo, age 52, Malmo, Sweden

I was put to work when I was only three years. My work was sex with my
dad. That may sound funny but was quite real. My father was employed at a
state liquor store and was always home in the morning. My mother was a
teacher and was at school before my father would even be awake. It was
during those morning hours that my father had what was his side business
with three other men. They had sex and took pictures when having sex with
their children. This was 1953 and nobody then knew much about such a
business and no one did anything about it. My dad and these men could do
anything they wanted at that time and knew that it was okay with most men
then

I was sucking my dad's cock at that time, at age 3. And either he would
take pictures or the other men would. He would fuck me then. Some people do
not think such a thing is possible but it is. He was fucking my bum at age
3 because I think it is what men who shared such pictures wanted to see. I
was a good fuck from age of 3 until today.

This went on for many years until I was age eleven and too old for the
pictures. No one ever knew this before.

END.




Ronny, age 26, Brooklyn, NYC

My dad's a big Sicilian. He's 61 now. Like me, he's beefy and hairy. Big
noses, too. Fortunate for us we don't got the fat gene that my ma's family
has. But we do got the fat cock gene. I saw my dad's cock all the time from
when I was a little kid up. It wasn't anything we talked about. He was just
always swinging his fat bat in the bathroom or when we'd go hunting
upstate.

I knew I was a cocksucker by age 10 because I was sucking my older
brothers. All three of them from when I was 5 on up. I never in a million
years thought my dad knew anything about that though. It wasn't like I was
sucking my brothers in the living room or nothing. It started when I was 5
and I shared a room with my older brother Joe who was six years older. And
then our older brothers, Sal who was 15 and Tony who was 17 at the time
started having me suck them. We had sisters between us in age.

So it was going on a while that I was sucking cock. I even ate cum from the
first time sucking Sal and Tony. They always came into my room
separately. I hardly ever sucked my brothers all together. It was always
separate and kept quiet that they'd want a bj.

And like I said, I never thought my dad knew. Fuck, I think I would have
died had I known at the time.

So this happened when I was 8. My brother Tony had been married about a
year and Sal had left to go to college - the first to go to college in our
family.

That left me to sucking only Joe who was had 14 and had a pretty big dick
like all the Baio Boys - as we were called then.

I kind of missed sucking three cocks every day I got to admit. I was
sucking them since age 5 so you miss all that when one brother marries and
another goes to school. One day, it was after school but before suppertime
and Joe was out somewhere, with his buddies most likely. My ma was
cooking. She was a housewife and home most of the time.

And this one day my dad comes home early. He managed a store that sold
blinds and draperies. He was home maybe a half an hour earlier than
usual. So my ma is cooking and I'm upstairs in my room, which now had been
my older brothers' old room. And I hear a knock on the door. My dad asks if
I want to take a ride to pick up some ice cream for dessert. I jumped up
and we went out to the grocers. It wasn't far to this one place but my dad
liked the gelati at a place that was a little further walk. We were walking
and it was busy with people as was normal in our neighborhood. People
coming home from work and just Brooklyn living, you know?

We walk and I have no idea where we are because I had been to the gelato
place many times before but this was no where near it. I smelled fish,
which was weird, and we rounded a corner and it was a fish warehouse we
were next to. I asked why we were there and my dad just told me to follow
him. We went to the back of this warehouse building, just steps from the
busy street and there was a fire escape type of stairway up. It wasn't a
fire escape but looked like one - a metal staircase to the next floor from
the alley but it was high where it should have been a 3rd floor. We climb
this thing and go inside a metal door. I smell mops and fish and cleanser.

We walk down this empty hall and into a bathroom. It had one of those signs
on it marking it was for men. It was dumpy - just a stall, urinal and
sink. My dad peed and I figured he somehow knew of this bathroom since it's
hard to sometimes find a bathroom you can use freely (without buying
something) in Brooklyn.

But instead of putting his cock away when he was done peeing, he asked if I
liked his cock. I almost died I think. I loved his cock but was shocked my
dad asked me that. I couldn't even answer him I don't think.

He looked at his cock hanging out of his pants and stroked it a little, all
the while looking at it. He said I must miss sucking cocks since Sal and
Tony were out of the house. I, of course, denied knowing anything he was
talking about but he had me. He knew and stopped me from my continuing
denials. He said it was okay to suck cock if that's what I liked. He had
known I was sucking my older brothers ever since I was 5 because he saw my
oldest brother come into my room one night with an erection in his pajama
bottoms. He said he knew I must have been sucking cock because Tony snuck
out of my room without the erection only like three minutes later. From
then on, my dad was onto me.

I looked at his cock in this fish warehouse bathroom and he was hard. His
cock was a lot like my older brothers' cocks. Really was. Fat Sicilian
cock, not cut, hairy as hairy can be.

He said I could suck his cock for him now that I was down to just one cock
to suck in the house. I asked him if he was teasing me. And he said he was
100% serious but nobody better know. He said he'd kick me out of the house
if I ever told anybody, including Joe.

I was a cocksucker, ghJ. So you know what I did. Eight years old and I
sucked off my dad in this oddball bathroom. He had me go into the stall
(first time I ever was in a stall without a door on it) and he throat
fucked my face while he had me sit on the shitpot.

We'd "take a walk" whenever he felt the need for some head. He'd grab the
housekeys and tell me to grab a jacket saying to my ma, "We're goin' for a
walk. We'll be back in a few. Keep the pasta til we get back."

She never knew that he'd be taking me down to that fish warehouse for a bj
before we'd stop to pick up gelato. I sucked him like that until I was 11
and then the door to the fish place was locked. He then would take me to
this open basement that was beneath a banquet hall. It always had a door
that was unlocked. I later came to know it was where a lot of guys would go
for a quick one. Even some hookers took their johns down there. We'd
sometimes be down there and there'd be two or three other couples going at
it in various corners. But it was just an easy place for my dad to get me
to blow him. He never liked it if anybody approached us. He just didn't
want to ever do it back at the house.

END.





Perry, age 60, San Francisco, California

Mister Gloryholejunkie, even my dad doesn't know this. But I played with
his cock all the time between the ages of four and fourteen. How didn't he
know? He'd be sleeping, that's how. Like you often have said, a sleeping
dad can sometimes be a boy's best sex buddy.

This was back in early 50s when it was still easy for men to play around
with boys. But I was the aggressor in this one. He'd been in WWII and had a
great body. He was slightly wounded in his right leg. It really just
required him to lie down for a while on those days it would be acting
up. My mom kept her job even after war so she was a working mom, 9 to 5. My
dad was a glazier and so he'd work for months straight and then wouldn't
work for perhaps a week or two. He always enjoyed those mini vacations.

Today, I am a slut for cock. I am a cumpig like you. I moved to San
Francisco when I was 18 just so I could live on dick. I was spread open
throughout the 60s and 70s at bathhouses. There were nights I'd be bred by
upwards of 70 men. And that would sometimes be like 7 days of the week at
my peak. Fucking amazing I'm still around to tell about it.

I guess I'm like you that I believe some boys are born that way. I know I
never chose to be a cocksucker. I never had anything happen to me that made
me a cumpig. I was just always that way. I knew I loved cock.

I don't even know where I got the balls to play with my dad's cock. This
was maybe '50-'51 when I started it. He was home and laid on the couch
listening to the radio. And he fell asleep as he often would. He'd nap for
about an hour and awake with his ankle feeling fine again.

I was four. I had to have been four because when I was five I went to
kindergarten and this was before then.

My dad had no problem with me climbing on the couch with him to snuggle. A
lot of the vets then were young men who wanted that closeness with their
family and children. He'd let me hop in beside him on the big blue couch we
had in the front room. I'd be snuggled to the inside, against the back of
the couch.

When I was four, I already had a different purpose for wanting to be that
close to him. I found my dad sexy. Sounds weird for a four year old to be
thinking along those lines but I did. I loved touching him - all over. He'd
be asleep within minutes especially if he'd tuned to some classical station
on the radio. That's when I'd get to work.

I didn't just run my hand along his chest or pants bulge. I would put my
hand up under his shirt. I loved the way his hairy chest felt. I'd squeeze
his bulge. I couldn't even tell you how hard I did that. I figured that
since he was sleeping, he couldn't feel anything. I even learned how to
unfasten his pants. I just could never re-fasten them. But I wasn't
thinking. From ages 4 to 14 this went on. When I got older, I'd pretend to
be reading on the floor beside the couch until he fell asleep and then I'd
get to work.

I suppose, technically, I was molesting him. When you think about it. Here
he was sound asleep and I was opening his pants to play with his cock.

I don't know why I stopped at 14. No, I do. I remember getting real nervous
because even though it was ten years of my being able to open his pants,
and his awaking all disshelved (he had to have had to hitch up and tuck his
shirt in each time), this one time after I played with him, I was in my
bedroom and he came staggering over to my door. He was tucking in his shirt
and asked me if I knew why his belt buckle was open. I said I didn't know
and he looked groggy as he said he guessed it must have happened while he
slept. He walked away but gave me a weird look. And I got nervous after
that. And besides, at 14 I started sucking cock elsewhere.

END.





Cedric, age 78, Santa Monica, California

I'm an old man enjoying your dirty, dirty stories. You are a man after my
own heart. You get even we old geezers shooting a load. I won't go into the
things I have done with boys all my life. It would be far too lengthy. But
that is for another time.

I want to tell you about my own experience, which happened, when I was not
much more than a baby. It was both traumatic and pleasurable at the same
time and is something I have never told anyone. I was married for 38 yrs
and after being widowed, I married again for another 19 years. But I never
told either wife. I never told anyone this before. I have children and
grand- and great-grand children. I belong to veteran's group and never told
any of them. But I want to tell you because I think you will understand all
the complexities of the experience. You seem to know both the pleasure and
confusion that a small boy goes through when sexualized early on.

As I said, I am almost 80 and this happened, I cannot believe it, but
already over 75 years ago. I was 2 so that would make it 1926 when this
happened. My mother died of tuberculosis when I was one years of age
leaving my dad to raise me and my older sister, Bridget. Because she was a
girl, my aunt, my mother's sister, took her in. And that left me with my
dad. His mother helped out best she could. We lived in a two-flat so my
grandparents, my dad's parents, were always around. But I lived with my
father in the 2nd floor apartment.

My dad loved to smoke cigars, drink and play poker and all those things
most working class men did back then with no shame. Sometimes I'd be
downstairs with my grandparents those nights but sometimes since I'd
already be asleep, they'd leave me in my bed upstairs while my dad played
poker with his friends in the dining room.

I was two as I said and one of these nights a man came into my bedroom. He
never turned on a light. I don't know why I didn't scream or cry. I may
have thought he was my father at first but more I think of it, I didn't cry
because when only a father raises you, you are not scared of adult male
forms. I think that's why I didn't utter a sound. Or maybe I did and no one
responded.

He came to my bed and put this very salty, wet thing to my
lips. Spontaneously, I sucked it into my mouth. You know it's simply what
babies do at that age. He was in the room for no more than a very short
time and that's when I started making noises. I was coughing because of the
warm salty stuff that had come out of him. I remember him making a dash for
the bedroom door back into the kitchen. A minute or even more later, it
seemed forever, my dad came in, turned on my light and changed my top
without saying much.

That happened again the next time but this is what I have never been able
to tell anyone before you. It was not one man who came into my dark room
that second night. I don't know how many took turns coming in, even my
father did at the end to put his penis in my mouth, but if five play poker,
it was five men. If seven play poker, it was seven men.

I was coughing all night long with the salty stuff they put in my mouth,
which, now, of course, I know was cum. I never could say anything then
because of my age. And in the mid 20's there was no one to tell anyway.
Boys never spoke of such things. Men did whatever they liked to us yet we
knew it was a worse thing to tell. We'd be labeled a queer or a sissy
forever if we said anything to anyone.

Although it was strange and scary thing to have happen, I enjoyed it. I
suppose that is also why I have never told anyone, including my spouses. I
feared I would have to also acknowledge that I enjoyed it and think its
something good for a boy to experience. And as we all know, that could
never be said out loud. And then I was a father to boys so I knew it would
be too dangerous to ever speak of the episode, especially in an embracing
way.

My father was not a pedophile as we know of them today. His friends were
not. Back then it was that men did not have the outlets for sex which young
men today have. It is hard to explain that to people. Until I was seven,
and my father remarried, I provided this service to him and his friends.
Then I stopped for a great long while. I did not even suck cock during the
war and there were many, many opportunities to do so. Coney Island had many
cocksuckers awaiting on duty in the rest rooms to suck all of us young Navy
men.

I only started sucking cock again when I was married for nearly eighteen
years believe it or not. I was in the city (New York) on a job and found a
peep show place on Times Square which startled me the way in which it was
jam-packed with men all hours of the day and night getting and giving
blowjobs. (You'd have loved it). Who can resist such a tempting place and I
went back to cocksucking during that week in the city. And haven't stop
sucking cocks at every opportunity since.

You would be surprised at the numbers of young men, even quite young, who
like being sucked by us old guys. I can't complain.

I appreciate your reading this. I have never had the courage to sit down
and write it down until I read your stories. I think it is important that
young boys know it is okay to suck cock and eat cum and that we old men
even did it in the Dark Ages and we turned out okay. I am widowed twice now
but find great joy and comfort in my many children and grandchildren (I
think you'd like my sons - they could be your dad. LOL).

END.


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PERHAPS MORE "LETTERS FROM HOME" TO COME
By Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE
ghj_4u@yahoo.com