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Dad did what he had to

When Cole Harmon received the phone call, he thought it was a prank.

"Mr. Harmon?" the voice on the other end asked.

"Yes?"

"This is Ray Foulkes, I'm a nurse at County General. Is Wayne Harmon your son?"

"Uh, yeah. What's the problem? Is Wayne okay?"

"Well, that's a tough question to answer just now, Mr. Harmon." The nurse seemed to be searching for the right answer.

"What do you mean, "tough"? I asked you a question. Is Wayne okay?" Cole was getting tense.

"Mr. Harmon, your son was involved in a motorcycle accident this afternoon on Interstate 12. We've been trying to reach someone at his home for the past two hours."

"I just got home from work...wait a minute, did you say motorcycle accident?"

"That's correct."

"Oh, no, that's not possible. Wayne's always been terrified of cycles. My brother took him for a ride on his cycle when Wayne was six. He's been afraid of cycles ever since. Are you sure you have the right kid?"

"We're sure, sir. If you could just come down here, the doctors can explain fully the extent of Wayne's injuries."

Cole was sure this had to be a mistake, but he couldn't chance it. "I'll be right there"

On the way to the hospital, Cole thought about Wayne. The eighteen year old had always been something of a loner. He wasn't unpopular; he just marched to his own drummer. Cole and his wife Laina had always been proud of Wayne. He was adept at sports, but also had an artistic side. The kid was already 5'10" and showed signs of growing even taller. Cole enjoyed shooting hoops with his son. In fact, the two had always shared a close relationship. Wayne was their only child.

Cole couldn't bear the thought of losing him. He was thankful that Laina was out of town at a training seminar for work. This gave him the chance to assess the situation with a reasonably clear head. Laina would have broken down already.

Cole arrived at County General in record time. He rushed into the emergency room and was immediately escorted to a waiting room. A dark haired young man, wearing green surgical scrubs, addressed him by name.

"Mr. Harmon?"

"Yeah that's me."

"I'm Ray Foulkes. We spoke on the phone."

"Yeah, yeah, just tell me, how's Wayne?"

"Well, we know a little more than we did when I spoke to you earlier. It appears Wayne was a passenger on a cycle driven by a friend of his. Do you know Joshua Hunt?"

"Yeah, I think. He's in Wayne's Chemistry class; he's his lab partner. But I wouldn't call him a friend."

"In any event, Wayne was a passenger on the motorcycle. Mr. Hunt must have been showing off and took a curve just a little too fast. The cycle spun out and hit a guardrail. Your son was thrown from the bike and landed about thirty feet away."

"Oh, God...oh my God" Cole was feeling nauseated.

"Easy, Mr. Harmon. Here, have a seat"

The nurse guided Cole to a nearby sofa and sat next to him.

"Now, Wayne was very lucky, Mr. Harmon. He was wearing a helmet. Without it, he would surely have been killed"

"Okay, so exactly what did happen to him? Will he live?" Cole feared the answer.

"No question. He'll live. But he injured his spine, and that means-"

Cole cut the nurse off. "That means he's paralyzed?"

Visions of Wayne shooting hoops, running around the backyard, swimming in their pool flashed through Cole's fogged brain.

"Not likely, sir. But he will require some physical therapy and prolonged bed rest."

"But he'll walk, right?" Cole asked, eyes brimming with tears.

"If the healing goes as expected, there's no reason why he shouldn't be able to do everything he did before today."

"Except ride a motorcycle" Cole said, the tears flowing, both from concern and relief.

"Why don't you take a second to get yourself together, and then I'll take you to see your son," the nurse told him.

"I will, and thank you!" Cole replied.

Wayne's injuries turned out to be as the nurse had explained. He stayed in the hospital for eight days, and then was released, with a promise that physical therapy would be followed up at home.

When Laina heard of the accident, she did break down, just as Cole had expected. She flew home from her seminar and took full charge of Wayne's care. One of the two of them slept in Wayne's room nightly. Laina fed him his meals, read to him and watched his favorite TV shows with him.

But it was on the first day home that Cole's role in Wayne's recovery began to take shape. Laina was fluffing Wayne's pillows, in a vain attempt to make him comfortable.

"Mom?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Um, I have to go to the bathroom"

"Okay, sweetheart. I'll get your father."

Cole and Laina had discussed Wayne's "personal" care long before he came home and decided that, at eighteen, he might be more comfortable if Cole helped him out at such times. Cole came in to Wayne's room, trying to maintain a light atmosphere. He knew that neither he nor Wayne would be very comfortable with this, at least not right away.

"Hey, kiddo. Mom says you need some help, huh?"

"Yeah, Dad. I need to pee."

"Not a problem, kiddo. Let me get the bottle they sent home with you."

Cole rummaged in the bag Wayne had brought home from the hospital and found the urinal. He tried to keep the situation as light as possible. "You think you can fill this?" he said, grinning.

Wayne tried to return the grin, but was clearly uncomfortable. "Dad, c'mon", he said, blushing slightly.

Cole walked to his son's bedside and pulled back the sheet. Wayne was still wearing the hospital gown he had come home in. Cole lifted the bottom of the gown and pulled it back to expose Wayne's genitals. The 18-year-old's limp penis hung slightly to one side, the majority of its shaft buried in thick, curly dark brown hair. Wayne's father gently grasped his son's dick between his thumb and forefinger and placed it inside the opening of the urinal.

"Let 'er rip, sport", he told his son.

Wayne closed his eyes, straining slightly to get the flow started. Cole decided to give the boy a bit of privacy, so he turned his head, while still holding the urinal in place. Unfortunately, his slight turn shifted his body and Wayne's soft dick flopped out of the bottle.

"DAD!" Wayne shouted, but it was too late. The boy's cock was spraying piss everywhere. The sheets were wet and piss landed on his belly, streaming down his balls. His pubic hair was soaked. Cole did not go unmarked by the spurting yellow stream. His hand and arm were covered in piss before he was able to direct his son's dick back into the bottle.

"God, Dad, I'm sorry, I..." Wayne trailed off, clearly embarrassed.

Cole couldn't help himself. He began to laugh. What else could he do? It was his own fault for being overly concerned about Wayne's privacy.

"Don't get upset, sport! You used to do the same thing when I diapered you. In fact, one time you got me right in the mouth."

"Jeez, Dad--way to make me feel better!" Wayne said, but he was, indeed, beginning to smile, as his piss flow ended.

"What's going on in there? Are you guys okay?" Laina called from the hall.

"Don't let Mom come in!" Wayne pleaded.

Cole surveyed the scene. Here he was, covered in his son's piss, as his son lay there, exposed \from the waist down. "No, honey, we're fine. Just a little father-son bonding". Wayne couldn't help laughing at his father's description of the situation. Cole shushed him.

"We've got to get you cleaned up, sport. We were going to have to do the sponge bath thing tonight anyway, so here's our chance to really get up close and personal!"

"Just what I've always wanted. A sponge bath from Dad," Wayne cracked.

"Careful there, sport. Don't piss off the guy who is about to wash your balls."

"Why not? I pissed ON the guy who's going to wash my balls!" Wayne smirked.

"You're a laugh riot, boy" Cole said.

Cole went into Wayne's bathroom and washed up. After filling a basin with warm water, he grabbed a washcloth, soap and a towel. He had never given a sponge bath before and wondered if he could be thorough. Washing the boy's face, hands, legs would be easy. But he really had to do a good job, since Wayne wouldn't be showering for quite some time. That meant washing his son's cock and balls and, even worse, the kid's asshole. It was not something that Cole had been looking forward to. But he had no choice. There was no point in hiring someone to come in and do this. So, he assembled all his supplies and approached Wayne's bed, ready to bathe his son, top to bottom.

As Cole returned to his son's bedside, he happened to catch Wayne lightly fingering his young dick. Wayne stopped as soon as he saw his father coming. "Damn," Cole thought, "what a horndog! This kid's fresh from the hospital and already playing with himself. Man, to be 18 again!"

Cole set the basin, washcloth and towel down on his son's nightstand. He tried to keep the mood light, as he was well aware that neither he nor his son was comfortable with what was about to happen.

"Okay, sport, first things first. We gotta change this sheet." The piss soaked sheet was already a bit rank. Cole rummaged through the bag the hospital had sent home with Wayne, hoping to find some latex gloves like the nurses had worn. To his dismay, he found none. "Aw, shit." he thought, but didn't let his emotion show. He pulled a clean sheet from the pile of fresh linen his wife had left by the bed.

"Okay, bud, you ready?" Cole asked.

"Okay."

Slowly and carefully, Cole rolled Wayne to one side, pulling the edge of the sheet from the bed.

The nurses had shown Cole and Laina how to perform these routine tasks. They had stressed however, that Wayne was to move as little as possible. Any excessive movement of his upper body, even brushing his teeth too strenuously, posed a risk to his bruised spinal cord.

"How you doin', sport?"

"Fine, Dad." Wayne said, though his voice betrayed the pain.

"Almost done, kiddo." Cole walked to the other side of the bed and gently rolled Wayne over. The piss soaked sheet was freed and Cole simply repeated the steps, in reverse, to put the new sheet on the bed. Then he removed Wayne's hospital gown.

Cole couldn't help but admire his son's body. The 18 year old had developed nicely. Not overly muscled, just taut and sinewy. A swimmer's build, some might call it. A light trail of hair began just below the kid's belly button, leading to a thick, dense patch of pubes, which partly concealed his soft dick. Just below hung his balls, lightly covered in the same curly brown hair.

Cole wet the washcloth in the basin and soaped it thoroughly. He began at Wayne's chest, rinsing the washcloth between swipes. He gently raised his son's arm and started to wash his armpit. Wayne drew in his breath.

"Ticklish?" Cole asked.

"Sort of."

Cole moved around the bed and lifted Wayne's other arm. As before, Wayne breathed in sharply, but this time there was also some movement in his crotch. His dick, soft and slung over to one side, began to lengthen slightly and flopped down over his balls. Wayne could tell his dad noticed.

"Sorry, Dad. I'm...umm...it's just that I'm..."

Cole cut him off "It's just that you're 18. No big deal." Cole suddenly realized what he had said. "Not your penis, I didn't mean that it wasn't a big deal, I just meant..." Now they were both stammering. "Let's just get back to business, okay?"

"Sure, Dad"

Cole continued to bathe his son, working his way across the boy's chest. The kid's nipples grew hard as the washcloth moved over them. "Christ," Cole thought, "he's horny as hell. No wonder. First the hospital and now stuck in bed here. This kid hasn't gotten a nut in a while! Oh, man, he's in for a long haul." Cole tried to get his mind off his son's unusual situation and finish the bath. He suspected, however, that the poor kid was going to get even hotter when Cole washed his cock and balls.

As Cole brought the washcloth lower, Wayne's cock began to spring to life, lifting off the cushion of his balls and rising with every beat of the kid's heart. Cole began to feel very uncomfortable.

"Look, sport, maybe we should finish this later, huh?" Cole said, sheepishly. He looked up and saw a tear forming in his son's eye. He knew what the kid was thinking. It was bad enough the poor kid couldn't get his own rocks off, now he was popping a boner in front of his own dad.

"It's doesn't matter, Dad. Now or later, it's still going to be there. I can't help it." Wayne sniffled.

Cole considered his options. Clearly, asking his wife to finish the kid's bath was out of the question. Wayne had blanched at the thought of his mother seeing him naked, let alone like this. And there was no way to get outside help now. Maybe for the future, but for today, they were going to have to tough this out together.

"Don't worry, son. We'll get through this. Heck, I'm just jealous. I wish mine still got hard that easily."

Cole's little attempt at humor was enough to break the ice, and Wayne smiled. Cole wiped the tear from his eye. Then he turned to the job at hand. He soaped the washcloth and reached for his son's hard dick.

Wayne Harmon's dick hovered over his stomach as he lay in bed, pulsing with each heartbeat. His dad's hand paused only briefly, before gripping his son's cock in his washcloth covered hand. He gently washed Wayne's cock, running the washcloth over the shaft, starting at the base and sliding up to the head. As the washcloth engulfed the head of the kid's prick, Wayne gasped involuntarily.

"Easy, tiger" Cole whispered. He knew Wayne's response was purely physical. At 18, Cole had jacked off at least daily, if not more. So, he knew that Wayne was just plain horny, and any hand on his dick just now was going to set him off.

Satisfied that Wayne's cock was clean, Cole moved the cloth down to the kid's plump nut sack. He lathered the balls thoroughly and rinsed the cloth. Then he carefully removed any traces of lather from his son's genitals. Finally, he moved Wayne's legs slightly apart and began to wash below his nuts, dipping down to his asshole. Wayne's body tensed, and Cole was afraid Wayne would do further damage to his spine.

"Sport, you have to lay still," Cole cautioned.

"I can't help it, Dad. I know it's weird, but that feels kind of..."

"I know, kiddo, I know. I was eighteen once, too. But you can't move around too much, okay?"

"I'll try, Dad."

"Alright, sport. We're almost done, anyway."

Cole resumed washing between the boy's legs. It was then he noticed a translucent drop of precum gathered at the tip of Wayne's cock. It swelled and rolled backward, dangling it's droplet onto the boy's stomach. He knew, without doubt, that Wayne would want to jack off the second Cole left the room. Clearly, that was too risky, considering his injuries. But how do you tell an eighteen year old not to beat his meat?

"Hey, sport."

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Um, I can see you're horny and everything."

"DAD!"

"C'mon, Wayne, cut the crap. We're both guys, father or no father. And I know what you're going to do the second I'm out of here. And you can't Wayne. Not just yet. You know what the docs said."

"But, Dad! What am I gonna do? Lie here with a permanent woody? I won't hurt myself, I promise!"

"Sorry, son. No dice."

"You can't stop me. You have to leave sometime."

"Let's ask your mom about that, shall we? LAINA!"

"No, wait, Dad! Okay, okay...you win, I won't do it, I swear." There was a tear welling up in Wayne's eye again.

"Did you call me, hon?" came Laina's voice from the hall.

"Nevermind, sweetie. I'll be down in a minute."

"Okay," and she was gone.

Cole thought the situation through for a brief moment. Clearly, Wayne would be left alone eventually. Can't have a "jack-off guard" in his room. And Cole did not intend to tell his wife about any of this. Wayne was still her "baby" and, while she wasn't naive, she still wouldn't want to hear about this. An idea began to take shape. After all, he had already washed the kid's prick and balls...hell, even his asshole. The barrier had been broken. If he was willing to help the kid pee, wipe his ass, then maybe he could help him out with yet another call of nature.

"Holy Christ!" thought Cole, "where did *that* come from? Jacking off my own son? I'm a perv. A fuckin' perv!"

"You okay, Dad?"

"Yeah, son. Just thinking." Cole continued to wash his son, finishing off his legs and feet. All the while, Wayne's cock remained hard as a rock, leaking precum. Cole looked at his son. He couldn't stand to see the kid so frustrated. He made his decision.

Cole held the washcloth in his right hand and reached for Wayne's bobbing dick with his left. He wiped up the trail of precum now running into the kid's pubes. Then he ran the cloth over the head of his son's dick, removing any traces of juice.

"God, Dad! You're really trying to kill me, arent you?" Wayne cried out, bucking his hips slightly.

"Listen, sport. If you want me to, I can, um, sort of, uh, help you out with your problem here." Cole had not released Wayne's prick, and it throbbed a bit in his hand.

"You mean...?"

"If you want me to."

"You won't tell Mom, will you?"

Cole raised his eyebrows. "Oh, yeah. She's the first person I'll tell. Right after I take out the ad in the Journal. I can see it now: 'I Masturbated My Son' by Cole Harmon, Pervert" Wayne laughed, in spite of himself.

"Look, sport, I can't imagine being your age and not being able to take care of business. I don't see a whole lot of alternatives here, do you?"

"I guess not. I mean, this isn't too weird, is it?"

"Oh, yeah, kiddo, make no mistake, this is about as weird as it gets. But I'm willing to help you out."

"Um, thanks, Dad."

Cole saluted his son, and then set about doing what he had to. The hospital had sent home a bottle of lotion to assure Wayne's skin didn't get too dry. Cole reached for the bottle and squirted a generous dollop into his hand.

"Let me know if I'm hurting you. And for Christ's sake try not to moan or anything. Your mom will think I'm beating you."

Cole reached out and again grabbed his son's hard dick. Wayne gasped as Cole's hand slid down the shaft, into the dense pubes at the base. Cole ran his hand up to the head of Wayne's prick and then began the steady rhythm he knew would get the kid off.

Wayne began to moan quietly, remembering his father's warning. He hadn't come in weeks but, as much as he wanted this to last, there was something a little disturbing about being jerked off by your dad.

"That's it, kiddo. Enjoy the ride." Cole whispered to his son, as he picked up the pace of his jacking hand slightly. He sensed that the kid was still uncomfortable, so he continued to whisper to him.

"I remember my first hand job, sport. I was about your age." Cole grinned at his son. "Close your eyes, son. Think about some cheerleader with perky tits, or that girl you met at camp last summer. Melissa?"

"Yeah, Melissa" Wayne said.

"Yeah, kiddo. That's Melissa's hand sliding on your dick. My first girlfriend was Tammi. Man, she knew how to give a guy a hand job. She'd get her hand all wet with spit, then slide it up and down, tightening a little when she got to the head, like this." Cole moved his hand to the head of his son's cock and squeezed. Wayne sighed deeply.

"Like that too, huh? Must run in the family. Then Tammi would tickle the hair on my balls."

"Oh, yeah." Wayne moaned.

"What the hell," thought Cole, and he played his fingers lightly through the hair on his son's balls, all the while maintaining the stroking motion on his dick.

"What else did she do, Dad?"

"Well, as she was jerking me off, she would lick my balls, and just underneath. The same spot that seemed to set you off, boy."

"Oh, God, yeah"

"Easy there, sport. There are limits to what I'm willing to do for you, accident or no accident."

"Nobody's ever licked my balls. That must feel amazing."

"It does, kiddo, believe me."

"Please, Dad? I'm so close and I need to cum, bad!"

"Wayne, this is getting to deep for me." Cole said, letting go of his son's dripping penis.

"NO! Please don't stop, Dad. I'm sorry I asked. I was just so hot, I..."

"Nevermind, sport. I understand." Cole said, as he resumed jacking his son off.

Wayne closed his eyes and imagined it was Melissa jacking him off. Meanwhile, Cole came up with a compromise. There was no way he was going to lick his kid's balls, hell, he'd probably throw up. But he brought his fingers to his mouth and soaked them in his spit. Then he lowered his wet fingers and lifted Wayne's nut sack. Gently, with a pressure he knew would drive the kid crazy, he began stroking the area between his son's balls and asshole.

"Aw shit, Dad!" Wayne cried, lifting his hips as much as his injured spine would allow. Cole leaned over to quiet the boy; he didn't want Laina coming back to the door. As he leaned over Wayne's cock began to erupt, shooting his young semen over both of the Harmon men. A glob of the thick white cream landed directly on Cole's lips. His tongue darted out in a reflex response and, before he could think, he had taken his son's semen in his mouth.

A slight wave of nausea came over Cole as he realized what had happened. Then, he shrugged to himself. "Well, the kid hasn't changed. Peed in my mouth when he was 18 days old, and now this."

"Thanks, Dad. I cant believe you'd do that for me!" Wayne smiled at his father.

"Anytime, sport. And by that I mean NEVER AGAIN!" They both laughed and Cole began, once again to bathe his son.




Cast party

I could not have been in any steamier place or time for my sexual awakening. Bangkok, Thailand, in the eighties was sin city extraordinaire. Anything went there; everything was tolerated. It was a mai bin rai ("nevermind; whatever, it's OK") place and everything was not only tolerated, but it also was on offer and almost always for free or at a very good price. And it was an innocent time. The mellow follow-on years after the hippy era of "if it feels good, do it" and before anyone had ever heard the term AIDS.

The U.S. government was also partly to blame for my development of an interest in the gay life style. I was a young Air Force pilot of the SR71 photo reconnaissance aircraft, and politics had shut us down for several months of my Bangkok tour and had allowed me to turn my interests elsewhere other than soaring higher above the earth than anyone else could at the time.

I had time on my hands, and, thus, when there was a casting call for the Bangkok Community Theatre's production of the new Ira Leven thriller Deathtrap, to be performed at the Bhirasri Institute off Sathorn Road, I auditioned and won the part of the young protagonist, Clifford Anderson. I had acted through high school and college, and exotic Bangkok had set my creative juices boiling. Opposite me, in the older man's role of Sidney Bruhl, was an expatriate queen in his late forties who I will call Ron. Ron had taught English for years at the American University Association in Bangkok, banished from the United States by his rich family because he had the gall to be gay at a time when it wasn't fashionable, at least flamboyantly and in public. He had outlived his family, however, and inherited their money and was having the last laugh by living in style in a mansion near Sathorn Road with his choice of young men who were interested in his money (and in each other).

Ron had been attracted to me and he regularly gave me expert, soft-mouthed blow jobs in our shared dressing room throughout the run of the play to release the tension we both felt after an exhilarating performance. I also fucked him doggy style once at his request, but I'll have to admit that I found his blow jobs more satisfying. He asked me to move into the mansion with him and his friends then, but I didn't consider myself for sale. Driving a stealth jet paid quite well.

At the time, Ben, a U.S. Army lieutenant assigned to the Joint U.S. Military Advisory Group was living with Ron, and Ben threw Ron a cast party at the mansion following the closing night of the play.

All of the woman and straight men involved in the play departed the party early, no doubt not all that comfortable with the special friends Ben had invited to Ron's party, but I stayed on. I had realized by this time that this was a special time and place for me, sexually, and I wanted to make the most of it. It wasn't long before my wish was granted.

I was returning from the bathroom, half snookered, down a long, dark hallway, when I was accosted by Ron's live-in, Ben. He just turned my back to the wall in the hallway, planted his palms on either side of my shoulders, and came in for a long, wet kiss. Ben was pretty much a hunk, so I just went with the flow. It was a hot evening, and everyone left was starting to shed clothes. I had my shirt open and Ben had no shirt on at all. He rubbed his chest and basket against mine and made me feel pretty rubbery in the knees.

After another kiss on the lips and a couple on my nipples, he told me to turn around, belly to the wall, and I did so. He took my shirt off me and then stripped down my pants and briefs, so that all I was wearing were my loafers. He placed his hands on my hips where they joined my waist, with his thumbs across my butt cheeks, and I remember thinking that this simple gesture seemed to mark his full possession of me, at least for that moment. If I'd ever had the inclination to cut and run, this ended any such thought. He kissed and tongued his way down my back He knelt behind me and must have taken his own pants off then, because I wasn't aware of that happening later, and I felt a hand come between my thighs and signal that I was supposed to open up my stance, which I did. The hand came on through and he pulled my cock back between my legs and stroked it, while his tongue and lips search for and found my ass hole in the folds of my butt cheeks. All the while, the music and laughter were wafting down the hall at us from the living areas of the mansion.

I had my hands raised to either side of my shoulders and my palms and cheek hugged the cool plaster interior wall of the old mansion. I wasn't thinking anything except what a new exhilarating experience I was having. All of my senses were focused on the cock and the ass hole that this handsome hunk of an Army lieutenant were making love to. I was footloose in Bangkok. Everything was allowed as long as it felt good. And this felt great.

Ben was alternating the attention his mouth was giving me between tonguing and rimming my ass hole and sucking and twirling his tongue around the tender bulb of my cock. He was moistening up my ass hole real good, but my cock was getting too stiff to hold the between-the-legs angle, so Ben told me to turn around, and he sucked me off from the front. His right hand was running over my thighs and my belly up to my chest, and he was using his left hand to either work my balls or gently finger-fuck my ass hole.

Meanwhile, there were men going back and forth down the hallway to use the bathroom. One beautiful blond Scandinavian showed particular interest in what we were doing and came back to observe briefly at various intervals of this fantastic experience I was having. But most took what we were doing for granted they all were doing similar things all over the house that evening themselves. Ben was one of the best-looking, and certainly one of the best hung, men at the party, and I was vain enough to be quite assured of my own qualities in both regards as well, so I wasn't at all embarrassed at giving anyone a show who wanted one. What I lacked in experience at that point I made up for in enthusiasm and the willingness to shed all inhibitions.

After I had cum at the back of Ben's throat, he stood back up and kissed me on the lips for a few more moments. Then he sort of stooped down in front of me, braced his arms under my butt, and told me to help lift myself and climb up on his waist. He was very strong and I didn't have to help him raise me up much at all. I hooked my legs above his hips and wrapped my arms around his chest below his arm pits, and I immediately felt his cock head at my ass hole.

He entered me a couple of inches and waited for me to adjust to him. He had two strong hands under my thighs. Then he slowly slid a long, slender cock up my ass canal. It felt almost like I was taking in an eel. I figured he must have been a good eight or nine inches long, but he wasn't all that thick. And then, for a good long time he just fucked me against that wall, using his strong leg muscles and those hands under my thighs to move me. He held his cock steady deep inside me and worked my pelvis up and down for the stroking and pumping action. I moved my arms up around his neck and buried my face in the hollow of his neck and savored the fuck, enjoying his hard, strong body, enjoying the feel of his chest and belly heaving and rubbing up and down mine almost as much as I enjoyed the feeling of him slithering around inside me. After he had jacked off in me, he let my feet back down on the floor and gave me another wet and deep kiss on the mouth. He told me how nice I was and that he'd wanted to do that the entire time the play was rehearsing and that he'd planned this party just so he and I could hook up. Then he said he other guests to contend with, so he'd have to leave me, but that he hoped we could be special friends in the future. (As it turned out, we became very special, close friends in various parts of the world thereafter.)

I was told later that the aging queen, Ron, had seen me together with his live-in in that hallway and had retreated to his room in tears. I don't know if that was the case, but he avoided me thereafter for the rest of my tour in Bangkok. I sort of regretted the loss of that very experienced soft mouth of his.

I returned to the party to find that it had become quite raucous. Many of the guests had wound up nude in the pool, and I joined them there. This certainly was a good way to shop what was available in the Bangkok and who had the longest and thickest goods and the best build. I was happy to see that in that time of my life I measured up very well to the competition.

I found the blond Scandinavian voyeur from earlier in the evening sitting on the side of the pool dangling his legs and very nearly his horse-hung dong as well, I might add in the water, and I swam up to him and sucked his dick until it was hard and was standing at attention. He enjoyed that so much that he hauled me up out of the pool, and almost literally carried me over to a nearby lounge and side-split fucked me for three-quarters of an hour or more. I'll never forget what wonders he could do with a nipple while he was plowing my ass deep and stretching my canal walls to the limit. I was late in learning that the nipple was an erogenous zone for many a man and most certainly for me. I have large aureoles around my nipples and get sent over the moon any time a man takes all of that in his mouth and teeth around it and gives it suck. I think that alone can add an extra inch and a half to my hardened cock. All of these "first discoveries" thrilled me.

Bangkok in the early eighties was perfect for sexual awakenings. Nothing was taboo. Everything was done for the sheer pleasure of it.




My uncle, myself and the spa

This story is about me (David) and my Uncle (Mick). I was 18 when this sexy scene happened. I'm a 6' 6" tall, blue-eyed guy, with short, bleached spiky hair. I'm muscular for my age and have a four-inch floppy cock. My uncle looks a lot like porn star Donnie Russo, whom we both admire. Uncle is 6' 4" tall, with blue eyes and short spiky hair. Uncle Mick is extremely muscular and he has a six-inch floppy cock.

One day, my uncle had a building job to do in my hometown. He found out later on that it was next door to my house. He saw me walking, which is part of my daily routine and we started to talk. After a bit, I invited him to come over to my place on his lunch break. He accepted.

I had my lunch at noon and I was getting into my spa. Five minutes later, I saw him jump over the fence and he spotted me in the warm water. I asked if he wanted to join me.

"I haven't got anything to wear," he said,

I replied, "Neither do I."

Quickly, he stripped off his clothes and climbed in. There was one thing I was longing to see - his cock. I finally saw it. His meat was at least 7- -inches longand it was only semi-hard!

I closed my eyes to relax and put my hand on the armrest. His hand was already there. I moved it away. But, he said, "It's okay."

The pumps went off after 10 minutes and I saw his semi hard cock bobbing in the water. He caught me staring. I thought he would have killed me. But, he asked if I liked it.

I said, "Hell, yes!"

He asked, "Would you like to suck it?"

I looked at him and replied, "Yes. But, not yet."

I leaned over to him, kissed his neck and sucked on his earlobes. I moved to his lap and could feel his now fully hard eight-inch cock. It throbbed every now and then. Our lips locked together and we kissed passionately for about five minutes. I moved down to his armpits and licked them clean.

I targeted his nipples. I sucked and bit the nubs until they were hard. Next, I moved to his cock. I sucked his prong for 15 minutes, while squeezing his balls and finger-fucking him.

"I'm about to cum," he gasped.

I told him, "I want it all."

He filled my mouth with hot juice and I swallowed very drop.

I begged him to fuck me with his entire manhood. I grabbed the lube I'd hidden under my towel. He lubed my asshole and I lubed his cock. He ordered me to stand up and bend over. He positioned his twitching prong behind me. He slowly shoved his cock head in my arse. I screamed. But, soon the pain stopped and he slid the rest of his meat into my aching hole.

I told him to fuck me as hard as he could. He went wild! I was moaning in time with him and screaming, "Fuck me, Mick! Fuck me harder!"

He slammed into my tight ass again and again. After churning my guts, he exclaimed, "I'm cumming!"

"I wanna feel it inside me!" I replied.

He came and I felt a warm liquid in my bowels. It felt so good. He pulled out of me and I licked the rest of his cum off his cock. I told him to lick all of it out of my arse. We started to kiss again and he told me that his lunch break was over. The next time I need a fuck; he said I could go up to his place.




Dreams realized

So when did I first figure out that I had a reality warping, make come true type of "witchy" power? One day I was at the mall and I saw a beautiful, Tom Welling, look a like guy talking to another guy, older but nice looking. I could tell that the two would never get together and I was sitting there wishing something would happen that would allow a meeting when all of a sudden a wallet appeared on the mall food court table where I was sitting. The ID was of the hot, younger guy. Then I see them talking and one paid for the other and the rest I guess is history, when I see them later leaving the mall together. *Note* this story is continued in a story called, Redneck at the Mall Food Court; I mailed the guy his wallet back.

I went home trying to figure out what actually happened. Where did the wallet come from? About that time, my doorbell rings; I check out the window and there is a kid about 15 or so, hot, with a flyer of some sort, probably selling something. Here I'm thinking I wish he would go home. I open the door and he says smiling, "excuse me for bothering you, but I just realized that I need to go home."

Okay, now I know something is up.

The kid leaves and I shut the door. I go to the bathroom and while looking in the mirror, wetting my face, trying to calm down; think to myself; I wish I knew what was going on. All of a sudden in my head are these thoughts; you are a monitor, a watcher. Many like you are created to band-aid or fix problems if reality gets off track. Until you were ready, your abilities were dormant. Once ready you can adjust reality to put things on track. There is major prerogative decision making allowed and any changes you decide off the "track" have no impact on the rest of reality. Consider it a perk for working for the creators of reality.

Okay, now I know that I flipped out, because I am having a major philosophical, pseudo-religious discussion with myself.

No, you aren't crazy, comes the voice again. Just only today has your genetic coding determined are you ready for the information to be released into your consciousness?

Okay, now what. Again the voice, we recommend that as an exercise to learn your abilities that you experiment some. Consider yourself like a "Fairy Godfather," even for yourself. We don't have any rules about self-gain or anything. As long as ruling the world or major domination/destruction; don't play a part in your changes.

I think to myself, sure I'll bite. I go to my home office where I have a full-length mirror. I look in there thinking to myself, what any 41 yr. old, gay man would want; you got it a big dick. I look in the mirror thinking, I wish that my dick was about 8 inches soft and 12 inches hard. I wish my balls were the size of peaches, bull balls. Now what? I ask. Keep thinking says the voice. I watch and think, I watch and think. I feel a tingle. In the mirror, I can see my crotch grow and it looks like I stuffed my shoe in there.

Oh shit; I unzip my jeans, reach in and pull out the most beautiful, piece of meat and nuts that I have seen--instant hardness and horniness. WOW. I just stand there looking one minute in the mirror and one minute down at the reality of it. I am amazed and stunned.

I start to jack off and think now if I can do this Where do I stop? The voice says again, "Think and use your imagination."

I know what I want. My favorite country star is Toby Keith. I want to look like that football build, handsome, country cowboy. I think it, I think it and all of a sudden for a minute I seem to waver out of place. When everything focuses back in; there in the mirror stands Toby Keith. I mean I look just like him; hat, shirt, jeans, boots, facial hair, body, everything. I say out loud, holy shit. There's his beautiful bass voice.

Okay, I know it's like a voyeur and all, but I have to see for myself somethingyep, built like the man bull he looks like. His dick is set up like my earlier wish. I have to know what it's like. I'm already hard, so I start jacking. Man does it feel great. After about 15 minutes of some hard dick play, ball pulling, my load (or Toby's) blows all over the mirror, all over the floor.

By this time its kind of late. It's a Friday night plus. I decide to go out looking like this stud to see what kind of play I can pick up. Then I realize that I might have a hard time explaining Toby at a bar like 2606 or Chambers (I do live in Tampa). So I change some; the hair to a crew cut, the cowboy shirt to a form-ribbed t-shirt (shrinking my stomach some to fit it). I then tribal tattoo my bicep and pierce both nips so that they show through my shirt. Now this is an "Oprah" makeover worth televising.

I decide that the bar of choice tonight will be Chambers. I love country music but need the beat of Club music. When I get there, thank God it's busy. I go upstairs to Gary, my favorite bartender and order my usual, Jack and diet coke. Now I set up shop at the bar to watch the boys dance.

After about 30 minutes of hot, sweaty, crotch grinding dancing; one of the younger, slim guys makes his way to the bar. I move over and he orders a beer. I tell Gary to please put it on my tab. I have altered reality so that Gary knows that it's me, Padgett and that nothing is unusual. The young man says thanks. Holds out his hand and says my name is Tony. I tell him that I'm Padgett. He asks me to dance to thank me for the beer. We dance for hours, breaking once in awhile for drinks and the interruption of the drag show. Around 2am, I tell him that I'm leaving that I'm bored. He looks sad and says can we swap numbers; I'd like to see you again. I ask him if he would like to follow me home. Tony, says yeah, let me tell my friends that I'm leaving.

He follows pretty good and I live close to downtown, so it's not far. When we get to my house, Tony says can I tell you that you look a lot like Toby Keith. Thanks I tell him, he's one of my favorites. Tony says mine too. Although he says, I think that Kenny Chesney is pretty hot also. Yeah, I tell him one of my fantasies is for those two to hook up. Tony says, yeah mine too.

Listen I tell him, what if I told you that I could make that happen. Tony says what, Toby and Kenny. Yeah, sort of I tell him. Just stand there for a minute. I look at him thinking, Kenny Chesney, black hat, tight jeans, tank top, beaded necklace, etc. Then I think a few changes are in order, nice bubble butt, lips a little fuller and just a touch (touch) more muscle all over. There is the wavering out again and holy shit--there's Kenny.

Tony says what happened. I show him the mirror and he goes oh shit, that's amazing. How? So I tell him the story, thinking that later I can wipe it out.

I take the hat off, tossing it to the side. Tony, can I kiss you. I mean a real kiss; tongue and all. Sure he says. We French for a few minutes and I realize that our breaths are like cinnamon. May I get you a drink? We both decide on Jack and diet. I changed that preference too. I altered my patio to include a Jacuzzi. We go outside; both of us strip and get in. After a lot of making out and a lot of old fashioned necking; I have him in my lap. Tony says, Toby (chuckling), "Fuck me, please!" I alter his tight, bubble butt to be self-lubing and for my pre-cum to be waterproof and similar to lube. Tony inches me in slowly and then begins to fuck himself on this big bull dick that I'm sporting.

We go out it forever, and then I tell him I'm going to paint the inside of his hot ass. He says that's okay because that bull dick has me ready to paint your chest. I ask him would he like to cum at the same time. Tony says yes. I bring us both to a mind-blowing, multi-orgasmic, cum overflowing moment that is amazing. While that is going on, we are kissing and kissing and kissing.

We sit there relaxing, finishing our drinks and he says are you going to make me forget. I ask him, do you want to continue seeing me? I change both of us back so that we are ourselves. He says oh yeah, you're hot too. I can read the sincerity in his thoughts.

As we are going to bed for the night; I ask Tony, what do you think about an arrangement between Tim McGraw and Keith Urban? Tony asks, how about Toby, Tim and Keith? My best friend David would be more than willing to be our third. Laughing as we drift off to sleep, I tell him then again, "We can always make our own third, huh?"




Queer eye for justice

Trey Adkins was an Italian Adonis. A charismatic and sexy street-savvy bad boy. 6'1, a solid 165 lbs. His hair was midnight black hair -- he wore feathered back. His chestnut brown eyes were soulful and seductive. He had full lips and a killer smile...He relished in the thought of one day modeling for Abercrombie and Fitch....

Onery as a blue jay, Trey had run ins with the law -- from burglary to arson. Despite his checkered past, a judge decided to give Trey one last chance in light of his age and all too aware of the stark and frightful reality that could serve injurious to him. Given a reprieve he was sent to Baldwin Academy for Men /BAM for eighteen months for vandalizing a soda machine that took .50 from him. And Contempt for smart mouthing the judge at his arraignment. When asked if there was anything that had not been explained to him or did not understand, Trey replied menacingly "What town was this where they shot the Sheriff, but not the deputy ?"...

"Welcome to Baldwin Academy, I'm Stephen Garrett your teacher" Mr. Garrett cordially greeted Trey. Trey softly says "thanks". "Baldwin?...best guess -- what's our name mean?" Mr. Garrett asks Trey. Trey shrugs his shoulders and gives Mr. Garrett a dumbfounded look "dunno" he's says. "Bold Friend" Mr.Garrett says. Again, Trey answers softly "Cool".Mr. Garrett clears his throat "eh 'hem -- it means, here we don't play Ring Around The Rosies.We turns boys into men, we call it tough love" Mr. Garrett says. Trey raises an eye brow and with a smirk says "wonderful".

"Okay guys listen up, this is Trey. Trey is new let's help him out...Chris, why don't you go over the ground rules" Mr. Garrett asks.

" a) Don't be late for class -- automatic detention..it's hell dude"
" b) No cussing -- you'll loose your smoking privileges for a day"
" c) Do what the staff tell you -- or no outings or passes.

Chris explains.

"Fuck this bullshit, this is gay!" Trey cockily states.

"That will cost you son. Let's have the Marlboro's" Mr.Garrett demands "Go fuck yourself you prick" Trey sneers back insulting him.. As Mr. Garrett reaches to grab him by the arm Trey stops him catching his wrist twisting and spraining it. Mr.Garrett yelps in pain..."You lay a fucking hand on me and I'll give your ass to Jesus faggot!" Trey warns.

One of the guys quickly dashes out of the classroom and across the hall to the gym. He sees the coach in his office. "COACH!" he yells. Coach Bill Hastings a staunch and handsome man with the morals of an alley cat opens his office door "what's going on?!" Coach asks with concern. "Come quick man some shit's going down, Garrett's hurt!" the young man says. Coach runs to Mr. Garrett's classroom and swiftly takes charge...."You got a problem?!" Coach asks angrily body slamming Trey against the blackboard. his arm is thrust pinning his neck back. Coach whisks Trey out of the class by his shirt. "Think you're a tough guy huh?...you're a punk!...punks get special treatment" coach yells pushing Trey out of the classroom. Trey falls on the floor in the hall. Just then, Trey could of rested his chin on his boots like a fearful puppy squinting his eyes tightly and waiting for the worst ---OHHHH DADDY! "Get up you little son of bitch!" Coach scowls. Coach forces Trey to his office. "Take a seat Son!" coach orders as he locks the door and draws the shade. "What's your name?" Coach asks "Trey Adkins" Trey replies looking like something the cat dragged in. Coach brings up Trey's record and begins to heckle him about it.

"Stand up and drop your pants"

"WHAT?!.. are you fucking sick?!" Trey snaps back. "One more word out of you Mister and you'll be kissing the floor" coach says slamming his fist on his desk and gritting his teeth. "DO IT!"...

Trey fumbles nervously for his fly and drops his Levis as quickly as he can". "Whip it out Son, let's see what you're working with!". Trey catches himself holding back from cussing the coach out. He complies and pulls down his boxer shorts and takes out his dick holding it in his hand. "look straight head staring at the wall and jack off!" Coach orders. Trey looses it "No way you queer fuck, fuck you, you can't make me do this, you're sick man!". Trey snaps. Coach makes a mean fist and punches Trey in the gut with a powerful blow. Trey doubles over and falls to his knees on the floor. "I don't mince words boy, you WILL do as you are told!" Coach non-chalantly sits back down at his desk giving Trey time to puke and resume his punishment. After roughly ten minutes, Trey stands back up at the side of coach's desk and stares dead-on at the wall and begins to jack off. Coach swivels around in his chair, folds him arms and eyes Treys cock. Coach turns around and picks up the waste basket behind him, turns back around and places it under Trey's long fierce cock. "Cum in the bucket, punk". "Sir, yes sir" Trey moans panting stroking vigorously...."oh my god -- oh my freaking God, Coach I'm gonna cum FUCK, auhhhhhhhhh!" Trey blows his load slinging strand after strand into the waste bucket.

"Another stunt like today Son and you'll be entertaining your peers alright -- just like this...do we understand each other?!" Coach warns. Trey just looks wide-eye at the coach and humbly mutters "yes sir, sorry Coach". 'Get out of my office!" Coach scowls. Trey leaves feeling degraded like a cheap whore. He feels sick to his stomach and heads to the lavatory where he vomits, holding back the tears from the shock of his harrowing.

It was now 2:45 PM. The bell rang and Gym was next. Coach acted as if nothing had happened. He was equally cordial to him as the other guys. It was Wednesday -- Dodge Ball! Coach picks two of the guys as teen captains and they begin selecting teammates. Trey was picked almost immediately for his stellar body and apparent strength. Coach blows the whistle and the game begins.. Trey begins taking out his opponents one-by-one plucking them like chickens... "Child's play man" Trey snickers to one of his teammates. One of the boys on the opposing team shouts a flame and maliciously delivers a blow to Trey's face face with the ball. Trey's head jerks to right and his nose begins to bleed..."That's for Mr. Garrett you fuck!" the boy shouts. Trey ignores his bleeding nose and tackles the awnry twink on the bare wooden floor pulverizing him "Don't FUCK with ME Asshole!"..Trey asserts angrily. Coach grits his teeth and grabs Trey by the back of his shirt and stands him up and pushes him backwards with his hand. Trey throws both his hands up 'It's cool Coach!" trying to defuse the coach, but to no avail.

"Drop em now!" Coach orders Trey. "Trey's face turns tomato red, his dimples were throbbing. His seductive brown eyes turned black with fiery as he dropped his pants to the gym floor baring his cock and firm bubble butt for all to see while standing at attention before the coach...

Coach toys with Trey's cock holding it as he runs his thumb back and forth over the head of it and then scraping it with his nail. Trey's cock sprang out and began throbbing.... "You think you're the cock of the walk?" he asks sinisterly with an evil grin.

Trey is in utter disbelief as not a one protests this. Their eyes all seemed to have the same look, cold and unfeeling. "My God!" Trey thinks to himself at the startling realization they have done this before...

"Whip the birdie!" Coach sternly prods. The guys whistle and there is jeering. Trey nods slightly with a sour look, takes in a deep breath and closes his eyes unable to look at his peers as he begins to jacks off. "I think you owe these guys an apology Son!" Coach implies with an evil grin. Trey continues stroking his cock vigorously. His head is cocked back with is eyes closed. He brings his head up and looks straight on at his peers to see them gawking at him. "I- I'm sorry guys" Trey says short of breath. He closes his eyes unable to look at the guys watching him like a spectacle...."Auhhhhhhhhhh au God nooooo ohhhhhh fuck!" Trey lets out with clamor blowing his load and shivering. "Sweet!" one guys says emphatically. "Oh hell yeah!" another says getting boned.

In a torrent of emotions Trey makes a mad dash for the bathroom. He doubles over trying to catch his breath and get his wits back. "Son of a BITCH!" he says gasping. He pukes violently into the toilet sweating and trembling. He leans his back against the wall and cocks his head back inhaling deep, lowers his head and exhales in a gush "PHEW!" He begins to feel weak and faint, slides his back down the wall until he is sitting on the floor. He puts his head between his legs. Suddenly he hears the door to the bathroom open...

"Trey ?...Trey, man you alright?" Chris asks. "No man, I can't take this freak en shit!" Trey replies bemoaning and nearly crying. "It gets easier if you don't think about it" Chris says speaking to Trey through the door. Trey brings his head up suddenly and reaches up with one arm unlatching the door to the stall and pushed it open. He leans his head back and cocks it's slightly looking at Chris "What's up with that man -- if you don't think about it?!" Trey asks in a faint voice nervously. "Been there man -- all the guys"

"Yeah..well..no offense but I'm not queer" Trey asserts. "Do I look Queer to you?...I used to make like I was strutting it for the ladies -- it's all in the mind man" Chris says. Trey grins "never thought of it quite like that before" Trey says. Chris and Trey leave together and Chris invites him to his room to hang out, grab a pizza and listen to some cd's.

The next day Trey is late to gym class from smoking and shooting the shit. "You're late Trey!" Coach sneers at him. "YEAH?! -- make like a clock and get past it!" Trey sinisterly says with a smirk. "WHAT did you just say to me boy?! "Fuck your sorry ass --compendia--can you hear me now?!" Coach is livid "In my office now!"...

Trey starts to unzip and acts coy and shy "you know you want it -- you like young guys don't cha Coach" Trey says in a patronizing tone winking at the Coach. "You think your smart don't you Son?!...zip up..I wouldn't be showing that to too many people" Coach insults. Trey is slightly taken off guard. "What cha gonna do now, huh Coach?!" Trey says feeling...well..p-r-e-t-t-y damn smart and proud of himself. "You got gym, now Son!" Coach orders sternly pointing. Trey perceives that to be a concession by the Coach....

"Chris, front and center!" Coach orders as he grabs Trey by the back of the neck and holds him. "What's up Coach?!" Chris asks with a look of uncertainty and fear. "You - strip !" Coach orders Trey. "Chris, show Trey here how titillating punishment can be". Chris is taken back "Uh..." Chris starts to say, but his mental mojo kicks in. "You got it Coach" Chris says. Trey is shocked and feels betrayed by Chris. Hoping Trey can read lips "Chris says "pretend to be my girl" Trey looks cock eyed at Chris missing the punt...

Coach forces Trey to do ten nude jumping jacks. Like a traffic accident you couldn't help but stop and look. Trey's erect nipples from the cool air and his bobbing cock has the guys enchanted. "Would you look at that -- that's just nasty" coach sinisterly jokes. The guys laugh. Trey squints and blinks panting as he finishes the humiliating task...

"You think you're a Hot Shot ay?" Coach asks. He orders Trey to stand at attention with his hands behind his head. He hands Trey a basketball, and leads him up to the Marker. "You get one shot -- you miss and I rape you right here -- right now!" The guys are jeering... Trey's hands are trembling. He takes in a deep breath and shoots the ball -- he misses! "FUCK!" Trey sputters frustrated and nervous. Coach winks.

"Coach NO...DON'T do THIS... This is freak en INSANE man!" Trey pleads hopping around franticly facing the inevitable...

Coach snatches him, grabs him by the back of the neck and bends him over "I want some of that sweet ass" Coach menacingly spurts...... "AHHHHHH FUCKKKKKKKK OHHHH GODDDDD DAMN IT AWE AUH NOOOO!!" Trey shrieks in sheer pain as Coach's freight train like cock bore into his tight virgin ass!" "WHEW HEW!" one guy shouts. There's a round of high-fives. Chris traces the curves of Trey's pecs than plucks his pert left nipple "Damn that's a sweet nip" 'Fucker-err!!" Trey mutters gasping look dead up into Chris' eyes. Trey grits his teeth and begins to pant and hiss as coach rides his savaged hole with a vengeance. Like a piston he grinds Trey's ass tirelessly for a long stint. Trey's neck is sticking out like a goose, the veins in his neck protruding out with his thrashing about and gasping. Chris holds Trey's face gingerly wiping away a fallen tear on Trey's left cheek with his thumb giving him a piteous look as coach Hasting's rapes him. "Damn, that's sad" Chris says softly and winks at Trey. Trey just rolls his eyes looking dizzy and gray. "Awe mmm ohhhhhh y-e-a-h uhhhh whew!" Coach hasting's moans feverishly as he thrusts his cock deep into him filling his quivering ass and burning hole with bursts of cum.

Coach smacks Trey on the ass "Hit the shower" he orders. Trey staggers in the buff across the gym past on-lookers and gagging, vomiting just as he makes it through the door to the locker room. Exasperated, he falls to floor and crawls to the drain in the buff cold and shaking, and pukes repeatedly. He feels the Coach's semen oozing out his ass and feels utter disgust and filthy. The long hot shower is unforgiving leaving Trey to feel defiled and scarred.

The brutal assaults and savage taking of his virginity by the sadist disciplinarian broke Trey of his arrogance and defiance instilling respect for authority. Coach had made a team player out of him -- as he did with every bastardly young man. Trey wizened up and played like "The Good Son" until his release from Baldwin the following year. He returned home with his G.E.D. and landed his first full-time job as a nigh stocker with a national grocery chain where he worked his way up to management...

Trey frequently hires a dominatrix to punish him when he fucks up -- from being late to work to voting for George Bush -- he has to buy her gas for a year -- premium!

Coach Hastings was arrested and charged with multiple counts of sodomy, rape and abuse by an authority figure after brutally assaulting a rich kid and putting him in the hospital in a catatonic state. A "bold friend" Trey testified at his trial. Coach Hastings was subsequently sentenced to two consecutive life terms without parole. Baldwin Academy was closed by the state following the indictment and conviction of Coach Hastings.


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