SausagewithGirth

Good story/caption from  realhankmccoy - a tumblr blog

My bro Jake and I used to be kinda inseparable, right, having met at the gym.  We were always working out together.  And then a funny thing happened.

See, we started fooling around.  We didn’t call ourselves gay or anything like that, certainly wasn’t the lifestyle we were interested in.  At least I sure didn’t believe in all that gay lingo and all those parades right out in the open all the time.  You know, that identity has just never seemed to really fit me, or Jake either.  We had a conversation about it pretty soon after figuring out we were into each other.

You see, Jake was a good-looking guy.  And it was a lot of fun, for a while, to be always sneaking off to watch each other in the showers, and sometimes I’d even be putting my hand on his leg in the jacuzzi when nobody could see.  We’d fooled around in a bathroom stall at the gym, after-hours.  Let’s just say we had a lot of fun.  In the end, after getting to know each other, we had a crazy lot of fun. Flexing for each other became routine, kissing, and soon we were doing more than even that.  Even sucking dick, man, when no one was around. We both did it a lot with each other, actually.  We didn’t swallow those loads, we’d spit, more for the effect than anything, because some always probably gets in your stomach, you know.  No homo, I’d say. He’d laugh and say it back at me.  Great times, all in all.

Thing is, Jake wanted to push it further, further than I was willing to go.

“Man, I just don’t know,” I said, worried about trying anal with a guy.  “That’s definitely not natural, when it gets to anal and everything past that.  I mean, I think just hanging out and having fun we do now is perfect, you know?  I’m just wondering if it’ll ruin everything if I ever put my cock up your shit chute. I don’t want to lose what we’ve already got together.  I don’t want that, man. I really like what we’ve got,” I said, kissing him, strong and gentle.

Jake’s beard always felt so good against mine.  Nothing like a real bro who gets it, you know.  A masculine dude.  I was glad to have found him.

“It doesn’t have to change anything, Ryan. So don’t worry. Plus if you don’t like how it feels, you can always pull out,” Jake said, smiling at his own joke, kissing me back, fiesty and quick.

Jake continued with his persuasion effort.  “I mean you trust me, right man?  It could be a great life experience that you’re missing out on.  It’s probably worth trying at least once in your life.  Don’t knock it til you try it, they always say.  I’ve never gone there with a guy.  I wasn’t really planning on it.  But I know with you it’d be good and it definitely won’t have to be gay at all.”

“Yeah, but Jake, bro,” I go, feeling his firm pecs, kinda staring down at his hot treasure trail as I thought about how to answer him.  Jake had a really hot body, and well, we both did.  He was more than attractive enough for sure.  But I was uneasy about the way the whole convo was headed. So I told him that.

“So, here’s how it is.  For one, Jake, I’ve just never done that before.  Ever.  For two, think about what everyone says about going there.  Guys just don’t normally do that with each other.  Hell, that’s where diseases come from, and I definitely don’t need anything like that in my life.”

“Ok Ryan, but think about what we’ve already done.  And bro, I’m all good on being tested.  I’ve never done that with anyone, like I told you,” Jake says, “and, like, I just got my bloodwork done for my annual biometric screening at work three months ago. I checked out good.”

“Yeah but dude, uhh…you know what they say,” I sort of groaned, just trying to get him to change the subject, even.  “I’ll be straight up with you, dude.  What if I start thinking of you as a fag or something like that after we fuck?  You know how we’ve made fun of guys like that, even. I don’t want to mess up what we’ve got going on. I respect what we have right now. I like what we have right now. I feel like I’ve got a bro for life, you hear me?”

“You do have a bro for life.  I think it’s all bullshit, what those guys say, and what they say probably just needs to be shut down, even. It’s misinformation. Just don’t worry. With those guys it’s all just bullshit about domination or humiliation, something like that. Nothing will change between us at all.  You’ll see,” Jake said.

“Yeah but Jake, you know my background,” I said, kissing him firmly, a tight peck on the lips.  “That’s why I’m worried, bro.  I mean, I respect you, bro, even though we differ on some things.  I know it’s just because your family and background are different than mine are.  I don’t take it personally. Honestly, though, I really don’t think nearly all the guys I know online and have ever talked to about it would just make a bunch of stuff like that up for no reason.  There’s gotta be at least some truth to it.  Just look at it logically.  I mean, really look at it rationally, bro.  Cocks don’t belong in asses.”

“Yeah bro, but logic, ok, that’s one thing, but also, the other thing is, who even cares what they say?  A mouth’s a mouth.  We have fun all the time.  We trust each other.   If it doesn’t feel good, we can just stop.  You can just pull out and tell me it feels too fucked up. You can say you’ve changed your mind and decided you don’t want to,” Jake goes.

“I guess that makes sense,” I go.  “But I don’t know, man. It’s just that everyone pretty much knows anal is fucked up, you know?  It’s different than when we’re just horsing around. The whole idea sounds like it could be a big mess to me.  And like, I don’t want shit on my cock, haha.  So you’d have to make sure about that,” I said, pausing.  I realised it just sounded like I was starting to agree to something, probably.  So I continued, “I gotta admit I am curious.”

“Me too,” Jake goes.  “Just to try it once at least.”

“Yeah. Thing is, you’re my bro, man,” I go, giving him a nice bear hug.  “I really value the good times we have and the way things are. I honestly just don’t want to fuck any of it up.”

“Ryan, me too. Things are great now. And I’ve gotta say, I do totally trust you, and also, I really do think you’re a really good guy, a way better guy than most people will ever know,” Jake tells me.

“I think we should experiment just to find out how it goes,” he says.  “Then you’ll find out nothing will change at all.  Best case scenario, most likely scenario, is that maybe all this hot as hell stuff between us gets even hotter,” Jake goes.  Then he kisses me, smoothly, lots of steamy breath, his very mouth almost seeming like he’s drooling with anticipation.  I start to figure I’m gonna really have to do this for him.  That might not be so bad.

“Imagine how a kiss would feel after your first fuck,” Jake goes. He kisses me again.

I’ve got major wood tenting in my pants.  I’m rock hard.  Jake’s so fucking beautiful.  It is tempting.  He’s clean.  I know I can trust the guy.  What do I have to lose?  I’ve never done… that.  And I should probably try it at least once for the life experience.  At least for the experience, I tell myself.

So I agree.  I trust the guy, so let’s see for ourselves. And so it was set.

We aim for Saturday, and the week passes in a blur, excited, flirtatious texts to each other, texts that we both know we’d never let anyone else see.  We start the night out at the pub, getting some brewskies, watching the game.  The glint in Jake’s eye tells me he’s just as darkly, illicitly titilated about this as I am.  We’re obviously both thinking about how it’s going to go down, talking just a little, under our breath so no one can hear, about when we’re gonna break away from this all later.  I’m half or even fully hard multiple times in the pub.  Nobody can really notice it under the table, so that’s part of the fun, thinking about what we’re gonna do while we’re still out enjoying ourselves.

Then we get back to my place. Jake closes the door behind him.  And right away it’s the two of us kissing, steamy, whiskers on whiskers.  Bliss.  Clumsy awkwardness as we grapple with each other’s clothes and muscles, a bit, and both of us trying not to show it.  Taking off each other’s shirts…

I think it would be hot to do it standing up, with Jake’s ass bent right over the edge of kitchen counter.  The bed would be far too sappy, too obvious.  Lights on, a little dim as I work the dimmer switch.  So we’re getting naked, and soon we’re doing just that, getting prepared to fuck on the counter.  I’ve got a beer cracked open, and one for Jake, too, on the counter next to us.  I take a sip.

“Man, we’re really gonna do this,” I go, setting my bear down, wiping foam off my upper lip. And then I’m kissing Jake, on the mouth, and then soon I’m flipping him around, arms against his back, and kissing him, almost licking him, between the shoulderblades.  He tastes great, clean and just a hint of salt on his skin. What a stud, and lucky me, I’m thinking.

“Hope you can take it all,” I say, and then to tease him a little further, I’m rubbing my hard cock against one of his asscheeks.  He likes it, I can tell right away, so I keep it up, still kissing his back a little.  The feel of it seems to be driving him wild. I’m hoping he’s liking it. Then he’s talking to me.

“Stick it in me, man.  Do it.  Fuck yeah.  Put it in me, bro,” he goes.

I don’t really know what I’m doing for sure, but want to take charge of the whole situation as best as I can for him, handle it like a man. It’s his first time too and I want to make it a good one for us both… so, well, I take my firm cock in hand.  I’ve got my other hand on his shoulder for balance.  I can feel my bare feet on the carpet.  I can feel the warmth of his body radiating off him.  I can feel we’re both ready. The whole room feels like it has so much positive masculine energy.  It all feels fucking hot.  It’s now or never, I think.

I stick it in, just the tip at first.

Then I push forward with my pelvis, and it just slides in, halfway in.  Jake grunts.  I pull back again, and thrust forward again.  Halfway in again, a little more.  It feels good.  It feels really good, like it’s meant to be there after all.

Holy fuck.

So I grip onto him, tight, with both hands, pulling out just a tad. Then I sink it all the way in.  I push hard.  A hole’s a hole, right?  A hole’s a hole, I think again, and I’m fully inside Jake.  “I’m in you, man,” I say, almost without thinking.  “I’m in,” I say, my voice low, sounding hoarse.  He feels fucking hot to me. He’s kinda panting, pushing his ass backward to meet my cock, in a way, our legs up kinda pressed up together for the moment.

I can definitely fuck a hole like this guy’s, I’m thinking.  The amount of pleasure I’m feeling from my cock being fully sunk in and encased by his flesh is almost overwhelming.  I’ve got my head titled upward towards the lights just enjoying the feeling of being fully inside for the first time.  But pretty soon, I can tell my hips almost already want to draw back, almost on their own, again to increase the friction, the sensation.  There’s this puling sense I have of the energy inside me wanting to be sliding out and in of his hole.  So I do, almost without thinking. I’m starting to fuck him, to honestly fuck him. I push it my cock in all the way up to the hilt again. I’m looking down, seeing my pubes connect with his bare ass, and it just makes me even harder, if that’s possible.  It’s so hot.  His ass is just lightly furry, almost as scant as peach fuzz, but it’s even hot to just notice that, too.

Jake moans at me. Something about the tone of it… I don’t know how to put it, exactly, but it almost kind of irks me for the moment.  I don’t mind that he moaned at all. It was something about the way he moaned, something about the inflection, I think is the term for it.  It was kind of female in a way, or maybe like how a gay guy might moan.  I don’t know.  So I thrust forward, wanting the friction again and to forget about the way he sounded, but he does it again.

“Dude, don’t moan like that,” I say, not wanting to be rude, hearing the annoyance in my own voice, figuring it’s better to just address it.

“Sorry, bro,” he goes, lowering his voice, trying to sound less femme already, and I can almost feel him blush with embarrassment.  I feel bad for having said that, now.  But something about his response, or maybe the way he’s still enjoying this too much or something, is just bothering me, so much that it’s almost even ruining the whole fuck for me.  I can’t exactly put my finger on it.

I’m looking down at his broad back and powerful shoulders, trying to clear my head and tell myself this is on me to get right. I’m probably just imagining it.  This is Jake, the guy I’ve known for so long.  That’s how a moan fucking sounds, so get over it, I tell myself.  But instead of totally driving forward into the hotness of the fuck, my first fuck… instead, I’m starting to worry that Jake’s gonna fuck this up on me. Or that I’ll fuck it up if I don’t make it really clear that he needs to man up hard, or something like that.  But how can he man up when he’s bent over, if I remind myself.  So it’s gotta be me who’s overthinking this, I figure, and try to put it out of my head.

So, I’m kissing his back again, cock still sunk in his ass, just enjoying the sensation.  He reaches to grab his beer, reaching for another swig of beer as I stand leaning against his back, my hands sort of massaging his shoulders, enjoying the feel of the knots of muscle.  Such a stud, this bro.

So I’m watching Jake drink his beer as I’m enjoying being balls deep in the guy, right?  He’s not doing anything wrong, here. He’s not doing anything gay or femme in the least. But get this: I’m figuring out that I’m still annoyed at him, anyway. I’m not sure why. Maybe I’m feeling like this isn’t what I expected for some reason. I’m trying to work it out in my head.

To me it’s like, right now, in this moment, Jake seems to think he can just do what he wants.  But I’m not feeling like that’s ok right now.  It’s hard to explain.  I reach for my beer, myself, and as I do that I realise that I’m feeling a whole different set of feelings all of a sudden.  Like I’m feeling like Jake is probably kind of a brat. I know that’s weird to say. I think maybe it’s just something about the look on his face, the way he’s enjoying his beer. I honestly want to rip the bottle away from him so he knows who’s boss. I want to do that right now. And it’s like he doesn’t seem to understand that or even be aware of that.  He should at least be made to know I’m in total command of his ass. It’s fucked up, but something about his attitude, or mine, not sure which, is angering me.

And then that’s when I realise, looking at him, taking my swig, that I don’t really see a bro in Jake at the moment.  It’s crazy but I truly don’t. That’s fucked up.  It’s even more fucked up that I finally see that I see this, if it makes sense.  And so I realise it’s not me that’s fucked up at all, it’s him.  He’s just having a good time tonight with no shame at all. He’s drinking a beer like it’s normal that I’m balls deep in his ass. That is the only truly fucked up thing about this situation.

But I let it go for now, because maybe he just doesn’t get it. I maybe don’t think of it this way, but I decide to just channel my anger instead and start fucking him good, kind of riding the lightning, you know, since we’re probably going to be fucking for a while tonight now that he got me into this.  I wasn’t sure yet if I was going to want to stop and pull out or not.  I thought for a second maybe I should tell him how I felt, and then thought, nah, we’re in the heat of it already.  He sets down the bottle, almost spilling it as he tries to set it down, as I start fucking him in earnest a little harder.

I’m starting to notice that even though I think my cock looks really hot sliding in and out of his ass, and that it’s hot when my pubes hit the fuzz on his butt, Jake does look kind of ridiculous as he’s getting fucked.  In fact, he actually does kind of look flat out ridiculous.  His ass is hot, muscled and all that, but it’s bouncing as I ram him, almost like it could be a bitch’s ass or a pair of tits or something. Plus the way he’s spread against the counter is a position of total subjugation, total humiliation.  I could never allow myself to do that, I realise.  And I’m realising any guy who would allow himself to do that, to offer up his ass, must be pretty messed up.

I don’t even see Jake as a bro at all anymore, I start to think. I push that thought away so I can focus on enjoying myself but I keep thinking it anyway, again and again, which is crazy. It’s totally crazy, because just minutes ago I was even a tad nervous about wanting to perform well for my bro. But now it’s all really clicking for me. It’s clear to me that I’m the only man here. I’m the one who’s gotta be in charge. It’s clear to me that right now he’s not my bro, who wouldn’t be in this position. I feel like it’s rude to think it, and I definitely wouldn’t say it, but right now Jake looks far more like some fag than anyone’s bro.

I pick up the pace, getting into a good rhythm, and then it’s really dawning on me. This guy’s not really a guy like me. He probably never actually has been or we wouldn’t even be here doing this. He’s more like a fag, really, or maybe he even really just is a fag.  It’s rude to say, I think, but it’s the truth.  He’s a fag for asking me to do this, for wanting this done to him. He’s a fag for the whole subject even coming up. My cock’s a hard piston pumping in and out of him. It feels so good. He’s a fag and I’m a man fucking the hell out of him. That’s hot to know. I grab onto his shoulders tighter, gripping and squeezing the muscle, feeling like this is what it’s like to ride a faggot. Hot damn. That’s a hot thought.

I can hear my balls slapping against his ass, and it’s also the sounds of my pelvis connecting with his ass, a lot going on all at once. And then I’m looking down and watching my cock slide in and out again. It looks so incredible, this hard rod of mine going in and out of a fuckhole that it shouldn’t really be in.  But it’s so fucking hot, though.  Fuck.  And I’m not the one taking a cock.  It’s this faggot up against my counter. I keep fucking him.  I want to flood him with cum.  I want to flood his hole, I think, a hole has been turning before my very eyes into just a cunt.  I want it to hurt when I fuck him, I realise.  I want him to know what a man feels like.  I want it to embarrass him.

And them I’m ramming him fast and hard, again, again, grunting and lowing at him in a gritty, masculine voice “I’m gonna cum, you fuck,” as I start to spurt.  I press in hard, hard as I can, and I hear myself saying “Oh God, oh God, oh fuck,” I’m saying as I’m spurting it into him, load after load.

I can feel my sweaty chest up against his shoulders as I’m almost holding him down against the counter as I cum. I’m wanting to grind my cock in real good right up until the end, wanting to enjoy every last inch of this experience.  I cum and I cum. Nothing has ever felt so hot as spraying down this cherry I busted open with this white hot seed, a real man’s seed, I realise. That’s when I knew for sure that I’m meant to cum in holes like his after all. That’s when I knew, knew in my gut, why everyone knows only a fucked up fag would submit to being humiliated up the ass in such a way. No wonder you have to get them drunk to do it, usually. It was all true this whole time. And now I knew why, and now I knew how. It was blowing my mind.

It’s so amazing, though, the feeling of filling this hole up with my seed until it’s a newly minted cunt, my sperm dripping out onto his asscheeks and the carpet. The unwinding of a job well done, I thought, as my breathing started to return to normal. Jake’s was too. There was no coming back from this now, I saw. I’d harvested that cherry. Whatever bumps in the road we hit going forward, I’d always be far more of a man than this fag, this newly cunted faggot who had just let me pin him up against the counter without even a struggle.

Then it’s done.  He’s still panting, breaking for another sip of beer.

I take one too, finally. To me it’s more of a quick swig to wash out my mouth.  I’m starting to feel kind of disgusted by what had just happened, which makes sense to me,. And I’m wanting to get it all wrapped up for the night.

“Aww man,” he goes, in between sips.  “Wow,” he just says.  I must have made him see a few stars, I consider. He sounds stupid to me right now. I was really packing it in hard.

“Well, that’s that, bud,” I go, clapping him on the shoulder and then taking my hand off. Jake’s still hard, I can see. Asking for a fuck was a lot of him to ask, I think, and a pretty sick thing for him to want to get involved with to begin with. I sure don’t plan on worrying about him tonight.  But I don’t want to be rude. “You did good,” I blurt to him, casually, friendly, my voice sounding so much more assertive to me than his did just now.

I’m trying to find something reassuring to say to him.  Fuck if I know what to say after something like that though. Instead I just start laughing a little about how crazy it all is.  I’m handing him his pants.

“What’s funny Ryan?” Jake goes, smiling, friendly but a little awkwardly.  It makes him look kind of dorky, like a little lost puppy, and at that thought, I realise I’m laughing even harder.

“I don’t know,” I say, “It’s just that sex is crazy, you know?  I almost feel like I just cunted you, man,” I said, wondering how he’ll take that.  “I mean, that’s what it felt like.  I don’t know how it felt from the front, probably you just saw the counter or whatever, right?”

“Yeah pretty much,” he laughs. Then he leans forward as if he wants to embrace and kiss me. I just say “pants, bud” which catches him off-guard. I hand them to him.

He puts them on, pulls them right up over his boner.  I almost feel sorry for the guy.  He’s still a good looking guy, and honestly looking kind of sexy, barefoot and topless in blue jeans, his very tented jeans.  But I’m done for the night.  He’ll just have to take care of that himself later.  Part of me rationalises that this was too much for him to ask of me, and that if we was going to do something as sick as bend over for a cock, he’d probably enjoy, in his own strange way, beating his own cock off to thoughts of being cunted out by me when he gets home.

But another part of me, a new part that hadn’t been there before, a rapidly growing part that feels like it’s taking my whole mind over, is thinking that I just cunted a faggot. This part is thinking that my bro is gone forever. This part is thinking this faggot is sick and this faggot needs to learn his place.

I’m honestly trying to restrain myself, but the laughter just starts pouring out of me anyway, probably because I don’t know how to just tell him he needs to leave now and that I don’t wan anything to do with his boner.  It’s like the more I know I should stop it, the more I want to laugh at him.

Some part of me, some flailing, losing part, was telling myself to be reasonable.  “This guy was once your bro, man, so at least don’t be a dick tonight.”  It felt like this part of me had already almost lost, though.  It felt like maybe this part didn’t even exist anymore, wild as that sounds.

He leans forward towards me again with a small step.  I block it with one arm.

“Hey, Jake, I know what you’re probably looking for now, but, hey, sorry, man. I’m done for the night. I came, and I hope it was good for you. We can talk later,” I say, knowing it sounds blunt but oh well.  There’s no way I’m in the mood for anything sentimental with him.

“Bro,” he goes, “Ryan, hey, bro, ok but just listen to me for a second. I want to tell you…”

He’s putting his hand on my chest, leaning in, and then moving in to kiss me again.  That pisses me off, I realise.  He was half naked and sweaty, and I wanted to just shower off and wash this all of me and hit the hay. I had made myself clear two times already. I cut him off. In fact I shoved his hand away from my chest just then.  I grabbed his shoes, socks and shirt and handed it all to him.

“Don’t you call me bro, bud,” I said, knowing that was a dick thing to say and feeling strangely excited that I just said it exactly what I wanted to anyway.  I was feeling anger rise like an anvil in my chest.  It was hard to explain. It’s like when you know you’re so much better than another person that there’s not even a comparison. It’s like when you’re adamant that you’ll never let them put you in your place, not for an instant.  There’s a thrill to it, I was learning. There’s a power that’s worth holding onto.

I looked at Jake, firmly, as angry as I was, and continued, “Look, I’m gonna level with you flat out so that we’re clear here.  You’re the one who wanted to do this shit tonight. And I did it for you. And now I’m not in the mood for anything more.”

“Yeah but–”

“There’s not gonna be a ‘yeah but’.  I told you many times that it was probably a bad idea to try fucking. Obviously it was since already looking for more. Just get dressed, dude.”

“Dude what the fuck is wrong with you, bro?” Jake goes.  “You don’t have to order me out of your apartment, like, immediately after you’re done.”

It’s my apartment and I can order this faggot to march down the hall naked if I want, the way I see it.  That’s what I’m thinking so I just laugh in his face at that sassy remark from him. I’m noticing he’s still not even throwing his shirt on. If he thinks he’s entitled to any sort of answer from me at all, he’s sorely mistaken. I shouldn’t have lowered myself to fool around with him to begin with.

“Get dressed or you’ll be doing it in the hall,” I say now.  “Look, Jake, I didn’t even want to fuck you. Clearly I shouldn’t have.”

“Bullshit you didn’t!” he almost squeals at me.

“I didn’t,” I just say, flatly.  It’s the truth.

Then why’d you do it bro,” Jake said, fuming.  He’s still not ready to back the fuck down, apparently.

“Listen, you’re never, ever going to be calling me bro ever again, Jake. Listen to me loud and clear,” I said, suddenly snapping.  "The Jake I knew before tonight, the bro I had, that guy is gone now. He committed suicide when he bent over and took it up the shit chute from another man like a worthless fucking cucktard beta bitch.  You’re not going to be a bro to anyone anymore, Jake, you’re…”

Control your temper, don’t say anything you’ll regret, I try to tell myself…

"just a faggot, Jake,” I continue.  “You’re just a fucking faggot, ok!  You just bent over and took it like a fag. So now I see you and know you for what you really are.  Everyone else will pretty soon too, I’m sure. It obviously turned you on a lot and I’m sure you’ll beat off to it for weeks, probably, until you find you’re begging for real men to fuck you up the ass again and again, just like the fag you are. It’s all you are. And you know what? You’re poor white trash, too. I can’t even be friends with fags like you, so just get out. Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

If jaws could drop, and maybe sometimes they do, his would have. Or maybe I just looked fuming to him. Lord knows I sure let it fly. I felt red in the face. I must have looked pissed, because I see he’s even fumbling to put his shirt on. He’s not even looking at me anymore.

He was still fumbling to get it over his head and pull it down when I just decided I’ve had enough of him. He was making me sick just by being here, still. As he got his shirt down around his neck and torso, I started pushing him out the door. I threw his shoes and socks right out into the hallway floor for him to pick up. And then I slammed that door. I was pissed. Fucking faggot, as if he was going to lip off to me on my home turf. As if I’d respect myself if I permitted that. I wanted to puke just thinking about what had all happened, what I had let myself do tonight. I should have never let him suggest any of it.

Well, and that is just about it with the story of Jake the faggot. Enough was enough. I did not return a single one of the guy’s text messages. Not the angry ones and not the contrite ones. I didn’t have to answer a single one of them, because to me it was pretty clear that he was just a fag with an entitlement problem.  I have not seen him since then and if I ever do I think I’d probably make it clear that I’d try to kick his ass if he so much as looked at me.

There were rumours around town, pretty soon after, that he was a faggot. Rumours, quite a few of them in a town like ours, that he’s been taking it up the ass from various guys, that he’s actually gay and that he has raw, unprotected sex, and that it’s only a matter of time til life catches up with him, so there you have it. That’s what became of Little Jake. Pathetic, right?

That’s a wrap, I guess. The story of how I cunted a fag.

I mean, it was a fucked up mess, but I’m glad I did it.  No regrets.  Never regret.

Just sitting here, relaxing by the beach today and remembering it all.  I’m glad I told you about it.  I cunted a faggot.  It still blows my mind.

I still find it hard to believe I really cunted one.

Sick as it was, crazy as it was, somebody had to cunt that guy.  Doing that did us all a favour. It’s just too bad he had to be so ungrateful and difficult about it in the end.

Guys like that really should be cast out of the fold, man.  If I had known earlier, I wouldn’t have wasted so much time thinking he and I had anything in common.

Sometimes I’d wonder what I’d all do differently, knowing what I know now.

For starters, I wouldn’t have gone easy on him.  I would have made it clear who’s boss right from the get-go.

I definitely wouldn’t have fallen for his bro act so early on, either, and that might always be my biggest regret.  I probably should have called him a fag right in the middle of cunting him. If I could do it again, I’d want to choke him for a while, maybe even make him choke on my long cock for a long ass time until he gags and pukes. I wouldn’t even care if he did puke because he’d be the one getting the rag and cleaning up his own sickness.

But that’s life, I guess.  Live and learn.

Next time I have to cunt one, at least I’ll have some experience to fall back on.  In fact, my boy Ben’s been telling me he thinks something’s up with his roommate Dan, so I might go check out if it’s real or if he’s just imagining things.