Penguins Preference a Toby Wakefield story Chapter 8
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Penguins' Preference (a Toby Wakefield Story)Chapter 11 free porn video
Just after Christmas break during the first year I worked at St. Bart’s (it was 1952) I went out for the track team at school. My coach found out that I was a good middle distance runner. I did well in the half mile and the mile, so well that he put me on the varsity track team (I was a freshman).
We took group showers back then and after practice I would go into the shower, a large room with six shower heads. In those days we didn’t cover up in any way. There I was naked as a jaybird amid six older boys. Having never been naked with anybody but my brother I was naturally interested in what was sported between my teammate’s legs. Trying to be discrete I always worried that someone might notice me staring at other boys’ cocks.
At the time there wasn’t a lot of talk about homosexuality, any gawking was considered mere curiosity. But I got the feeling that the other boys were spending more time gawking at me than I was them. I knew that I was better endowed than my older brother—his was normal sized but I was bigger. Having measured it a couple times when I got a boner, I found that I was just under eight inches. Even though I was younger than all the boys I was larger than most of them. In my estimation I wasn’t huge, but the boys began calling me “young TC (tremendous cock).”
As I’ve related to you my first summer job turned into period of intense sexual involvement with the “sisterhood” of St. Bart’s Convent. When I was seduced into having sex by Sister Natalie (Mother Superior at St. Bart’s) she told me that I was more generously endowed than most men which I didn’t believe at first. But after another of the sisters told me the same thing, I began believing I might be. By virtue of group showers, I appreciated what they said as true at least in my circle of awareness.
Before school was out during the spring of 1953 the weather turned quite warm. Practice was after school which I had ridden the bus to get to in the mornings. But the busses left when school ended and those of us who didn’t have cars or parents to pick us up hitch-hiked home. I lived six miles from school. After practice I would hitch on the highway in front of the school and usually getting a four-mile ride to the junction where the highway crossed Burling Road. St. Bart’s was on that corner. I lived another two miles down the road and often walked unless someone picked me up when I stuck out my thumb.
It was a particularly balmy afternoon that day. School was out at 3:30, track practice finished at 5:30. I was hitching about twenty minutes after practice, had my thumb out for about ten minutes when a newish tan Dodge convertible stopped beside me. “Where are you going?” the driver asked.
“Burling Road,” I said.
“Hop in.”
The driver was probably in his late 30s to early 40s. He was a tall, dark haired man with a large Adam’s apple ... fairly skinny and light complected. He was dressed in white shirt, dark suit pants and a bow tie which many businessmen wore at the time. His suit jacket was laid neatly across the back seat. Cars at the time didn’t have bucket seats up front so the driver’s seats stretched all the way across with no divider, same as the back seat. There were no seat belts at the time. Most cars were standard shift with the gearshift on the steering column.
When the car started, we made a little conversation for the first half mile or so, just something that would usually make two strangers more comfortable with each other. In between the driver and I was a white towel that covered something on middle of the seat. He’d driven less than a mile when he pulled off the cloth and exposed a stack of maybe five magazines. When I looked down it was as if someone had punched me in the gut.
“What do you think of the magazines?” He asked.
At first, I was too stunned to think. On the cover of the brightly covered, glossy magazine was an astonishing picture the likes of which I had never even imagined. A gorgeous, naked blonde woman with her large breasts hanging down was bent over an equally naked man with his cock plugged into her mouth. My ears buzz and at the sight and my breath seem to be stuck in my lungs. The four magazines were pornographic, something I had never seen ... didn’t even know existed.
The driver said, “Pretty cool don’t you think?”
I was too gob-smacked to respond. I felt strange, scared like I should say, “STOP THE CAR AND LET ME OUT.”
He was obviously aware of my reaction, as if he expected it. He knew I was shocked and embarrassed, but he just continued by saying, “They’re new. It’s a new kind of business called pornography. I sell them to newsstands. Men go nuts over em and so do quite a few women. I bet you’ve never even thought of anything like this, have you kid?”
“Na (trying to be nonchalant) then ... no.” It was like I was in a surreal dream. I had no idea what kind of newsstands would sell these kinds of magazines, but I knew my mother was on a grand jury that had heard a case involving an arcade in downtown Cleveland by the name of Jerry’s Fun House. The grand jury case was on “pornography.” So, I figured that it must be illegal.
“It’s ok if you pick one up and look through it,” he said.
Competing with the static white noise that was going on in my ears his words sneaked into my head as I found myself reaching for the magazine on top and pulling it in front of my face. It was magnetic ... like I had been hypnotized. My eyes felt like they were bugging out. Acutely aware that my penis had surged to an erection that was straining against the fabric of my pants, opened the magazine over the bulge. Turning the page, I saw another large picture that started an article. It was of the same man on the cover who was standing over the same woman who was on a couch with her bare feet up on the cushions. Her legs were spread wide. Her hands were pulling her crotch apart, showing the huge, pink gash of her vagina which was centered by her gaping hole that seemed to be a dark, ragged abyss that disappeared as it went deep into her body.
“I see that you have a boner,” he said eyeing the bulge in my pants. “Looks like a big one for a kid your age.”
I didn’t know what to say. What was worse or more surprising was his bare cock poking out of his fly that he stroked as he drove. Having had mine in my hand so many times and having measured it I could see that it was roughly the size of mine. In a way it equalized us and eased the fear I had been feeling. There was a strange togetherness that I remembered during my circle jerk day with my buddies.
“They’re the best things in the world for jacking off with,” (referring to the magazines).
What was happening was surreal, but I didn’t really feel in any danger. I wasn’t being threatened. I had gone through puberty and had jacked off with my brother. I did it with my neighbor Ray too and had at least one circle jerk with my buddies in the neighborhood. I thought about how Sister Natalie had seduced me and how natural that felt. But I never ever considered that a grown man would be encouraging me to be doing something like this with him, a stranger. With the porno magazine in my hand, it felt like I was doing something wrong, I mean illegal. At the same time, I felt like I was in league with a conspirator, something which strangely excited me.
“It’s okay if you want to Jack off too kid,” he said. “Why don’t you just pull out your cock and go for it?”
Without a moment of hesitation, I unzipped my pants, took out my cock and started stroking.
His eyes were on the road, but I knew he was taking it in through the corners of his eyes. “Nice looking cock kid. I bet you flog that thing a lot don’t you.”
I don’t remember if I said “yes,” or just nodded. But I kept looking over at his cock in his hand then at mine ... they were strikingly alike and strangely like the man’s cock on the cover of the magazine ... but not quite as big. We all had veiny shafts and purple heads that were shiny and shaped like helmets.
“Would you like for me to suck it?” he said.
I couldn’t believe that a grown man was saying that to me. I wasn’t a stranger to blowjobs. Sister Natalie had sucked mine more than once and I loved it. With her it seemed natural but, though I had done circle jerks before with kids, I never considered that I would be hard like this with another male and since then never ever considered having a man or another male suck mine. But in the moment, I said, “Yes.” I remember breathing hard as I said it and remember how nervous and excited, I was at the prospect of his mouth being on my cock. I had no idea how he would go about it.
Elouise
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