Catholic Schoolteacher
- 3 years ago
- 25
- 0
My Story Catholic School The Youngest Must Submit free porn video
It was at age 5 I had to grow up fast. My mom had mental illnesses and grandiose delusions and reality wasn't in the cards for her. I was sent to detention where a slap on my face told me to piss my pants when I got KOéd I woke and didn't need to pee anymore but had cold wet pants. They sort of stunk. After 3 foster homes where their c***dren taught me the ropes of slavery. I didn't like that at all. After I went through 2 the last one settled me through 1 grade in school.
I was too cute when I was placed into Maryville. I was 8 then I befriended a guy named Sean but was very naive to gay sex because I wasn't mature enough. Some guy was called a "horny piper,"I asked Sean what that was. He lead me to the basement, Sean wasn't sexual maturity either. He instructed me to pull my pants down and did. He rubbed his soft cock against my virgin hole and scared the daylights out of me. I thought after that how nice it felt to have something soft tickling my butt. I must have scared Sean not to do it again and I was too intimidated. What if he told an older boy horny and ready to dump cum in me. That didn't happen until I became 11. I was in the infirmary and just had surgery done on my foot. A black boy came over and pulled down my pajamas. He washed my but several times with warm water making me like it. The villa where all the priests were on duty were there and I didn't realize how much it hurt when his uncut baseball bat for a cock was pushed through my poop chute. Ohhh daddy "it hurt like a son of a bitch." Pull it out it hurts my cries ignored as he continued invading me. I didn't get fully busted hole when he got caught by a priest. I faked like I was just waken up. I was scared I would need someone to sew my but back together. It made me so chicken to take a dick inside me until 19.
I came out (not fully because if someone told my parents that would be much more scary. I was on my own and I had 2 big black men take me home. I cried like a baby and prayed for cum... Unfortunately they never finished the job. It wasn't until I found another big man Latino. They have much kinder but opening techniques. He licked my hole and not until I begged him to ram his tongue inside made me so hot his whole cock went all the way. Oh my ass ached mut not because I was being drawn and quartered like the previous men. And Jose came inside my tight chute, when my butt inside was contracting he piped me full of thick cum. It was so thick it kind of made like a string with a big rope and it was securely tied to his uncut end of his pipe. I grabbed it and stretched the cum rope that was so tightly joined together from needing to unload. He was a soon to be father. I wish I gave him my number but I would have fallen in love.
I have had many relationships but none that lasted. I didn't enjoy slavery and these me came from parents that when they found out about them treated them horribly. They were very damaged and wanted to hurt me because they were hurt. I even prayed for a good man but I got violent men where the police had to be called. I still pray for a good man I don't care as much about money as I do about someone to greet me in the morning with a kiss and a piss hard on. Hopefully uncut. I've had some good fucking and some bad. Although I look like a guy in his late 40's or early 50's I am 60.
After the three decades of HIV/AIDS I lost every man I had good repour with even my best friend I could have loved better than his heroine addicted jerk whom got Hepatitis C and killed his partner. For the last 16 years I mourned on July 15, 2002. He had me over to tell me he was going to die. I begged him not to die, all of this didn't have time to set right in my mind. I went over the day before and slept over. I was so in love with Johnny but he too was taken away, his partner the carrier. It took me this long to stop trying to kick his partners ass. What good would it do after all. My best memories were when his partner was almost dead he was so high he even looked dead. Johnny wanted some excitement so we went to Boys Town In Chicago, a strip of gabbers one of which hired me to clean. We went to what was a new gay bar called Christopher street after a string of other bars. We were 3 sheets to the wind when we got there. He wanted to dance and so smittened by him I did. That is one of the best memories of Johnny and me dancing together we fell on the floor because when one is so wasted on liquor the floor can be such a slippery place. In reality we were friends. I wanted so much more than I got. I had to settle for the friendship because he was too afraid to leave his nasty partner. I would have taken better care of him. He would still be alive today if the very first time when I was 21 we met at Carols Speakeasy. I was homeless then. I wanted the gay world but had to be so careful then. It was so in style to turn a closeted guy in then and nobody cared why he was that way. I needed responsible men but the 1980s everyone thought being a slut was such a good thing IT WASN'T Most of them are dead now. Men I would considder family I spent Thanksgiving with. I used to save Christmas cards and obits I would staple them together. I would put them up as if I got them that year. It was my way of keeping my sanity. Now I'm so lonesome... after several moves from different states I nolonger have them but the memories are still there. Still I wish someone wanted to build a life. Now I may have one decade or two my folks died just before 80. I'm HIV+ and the last survivor of my beloved friends.
I still say a prayer at night for all I lost and my wishes for a true and enduring love. Yes I will accept any age now. I don't drink anymore as I used to. I'm slowing down but I'm far from dead. I feel lucky when I can suck and swallow cum, sadly it almost never happens. I wasn't what you call a slut. Some of those men tricked me to giving up some butt to them, made them sort of enemies when you think of it they knew they were already diagnosed. I forgive them all. My naivety still makes me sort of giving and wish I had someone worthy to give it to. I now live in San Jose near Los Gatos. (bob.brownjr2016) is my gmail if you want to say hi to me or are in love with my way I just am.
I was too cute when I was placed into Maryville. I was 8 then I befriended a guy named Sean but was very naive to gay sex because I wasn't mature enough. Some guy was called a "horny piper,"I asked Sean what that was. He lead me to the basement, Sean wasn't sexual maturity either. He instructed me to pull my pants down and did. He rubbed his soft cock against my virgin hole and scared the daylights out of me. I thought after that how nice it felt to have something soft tickling my butt. I must have scared Sean not to do it again and I was too intimidated. What if he told an older boy horny and ready to dump cum in me. That didn't happen until I became 11. I was in the infirmary and just had surgery done on my foot. A black boy came over and pulled down my pajamas. He washed my but several times with warm water making me like it. The villa where all the priests were on duty were there and I didn't realize how much it hurt when his uncut baseball bat for a cock was pushed through my poop chute. Ohhh daddy "it hurt like a son of a bitch." Pull it out it hurts my cries ignored as he continued invading me. I didn't get fully busted hole when he got caught by a priest. I faked like I was just waken up. I was scared I would need someone to sew my but back together. It made me so chicken to take a dick inside me until 19.
I came out (not fully because if someone told my parents that would be much more scary. I was on my own and I had 2 big black men take me home. I cried like a baby and prayed for cum... Unfortunately they never finished the job. It wasn't until I found another big man Latino. They have much kinder but opening techniques. He licked my hole and not until I begged him to ram his tongue inside made me so hot his whole cock went all the way. Oh my ass ached mut not because I was being drawn and quartered like the previous men. And Jose came inside my tight chute, when my butt inside was contracting he piped me full of thick cum. It was so thick it kind of made like a string with a big rope and it was securely tied to his uncut end of his pipe. I grabbed it and stretched the cum rope that was so tightly joined together from needing to unload. He was a soon to be father. I wish I gave him my number but I would have fallen in love.
I have had many relationships but none that lasted. I didn't enjoy slavery and these me came from parents that when they found out about them treated them horribly. They were very damaged and wanted to hurt me because they were hurt. I even prayed for a good man but I got violent men where the police had to be called. I still pray for a good man I don't care as much about money as I do about someone to greet me in the morning with a kiss and a piss hard on. Hopefully uncut. I've had some good fucking and some bad. Although I look like a guy in his late 40's or early 50's I am 60.
After the three decades of HIV/AIDS I lost every man I had good repour with even my best friend I could have loved better than his heroine addicted jerk whom got Hepatitis C and killed his partner. For the last 16 years I mourned on July 15, 2002. He had me over to tell me he was going to die. I begged him not to die, all of this didn't have time to set right in my mind. I went over the day before and slept over. I was so in love with Johnny but he too was taken away, his partner the carrier. It took me this long to stop trying to kick his partners ass. What good would it do after all. My best memories were when his partner was almost dead he was so high he even looked dead. Johnny wanted some excitement so we went to Boys Town In Chicago, a strip of gabbers one of which hired me to clean. We went to what was a new gay bar called Christopher street after a string of other bars. We were 3 sheets to the wind when we got there. He wanted to dance and so smittened by him I did. That is one of the best memories of Johnny and me dancing together we fell on the floor because when one is so wasted on liquor the floor can be such a slippery place. In reality we were friends. I wanted so much more than I got. I had to settle for the friendship because he was too afraid to leave his nasty partner. I would have taken better care of him. He would still be alive today if the very first time when I was 21 we met at Carols Speakeasy. I was homeless then. I wanted the gay world but had to be so careful then. It was so in style to turn a closeted guy in then and nobody cared why he was that way. I needed responsible men but the 1980s everyone thought being a slut was such a good thing IT WASN'T Most of them are dead now. Men I would considder family I spent Thanksgiving with. I used to save Christmas cards and obits I would staple them together. I would put them up as if I got them that year. It was my way of keeping my sanity. Now I'm so lonesome... after several moves from different states I nolonger have them but the memories are still there. Still I wish someone wanted to build a life. Now I may have one decade or two my folks died just before 80. I'm HIV+ and the last survivor of my beloved friends.
I still say a prayer at night for all I lost and my wishes for a true and enduring love. Yes I will accept any age now. I don't drink anymore as I used to. I'm slowing down but I'm far from dead. I feel lucky when I can suck and swallow cum, sadly it almost never happens. I wasn't what you call a slut. Some of those men tricked me to giving up some butt to them, made them sort of enemies when you think of it they knew they were already diagnosed. I forgive them all. My naivety still makes me sort of giving and wish I had someone worthy to give it to. I now live in San Jose near Los Gatos. (bob.brownjr2016) is my gmail if you want to say hi to me or are in love with my way I just am.
Elouise
- 31.10.2020
- 15
- 0
