The following is excerpted from Raunch, Boyd McDonald's
11th volume of true sex histories
Florida-- Your letters about gay life between 1940 and 1980 have reminded me of so much! I live and have lived a circumspect life; my position in my community prevented me from developing a close relationship with
It has always amazed me how many men are willing to fondle themselves to erection if they have an appreciative audience. And many of these are willing to be jerked off. I developed "a great hand."
he following story is true-- no exaggeration, no embellishment.
Having just bid good-bye to house guests who had stayed with me for six weeks, I went downtown one evening in the early 60s to see what I could see. I was disappointed when I reached the men's room to find that only
four or five pot-bellied, middle-aged men were standing at the urinals, each there for the same reason I was.
The urinals faced the wall which divided the sinks and showers from the toilets. The booths lined the back wall so that everyone standing at the urinals had his back to the doors of the booths. I was standing at a urinal
when one of the booth doors slammed shut. Everyone turned around to see who had slammed the door so loudly.
An incredibly handsome young man stood irresolutely, red-faced because of the noise he had made. He was tall and powerfully built, wearing a plaid shirt and the tightest jeans I've ever seen. His forearms were corded
with muscle and his chest strained his shirt. He had a bulge down one thigh that led me to wonder whether he had just come from a booth. I would never find out. To my astonishment, he came to the urinal next to mine and
pulled out one of the thickest semi-hard cocks I have ever seen. Slowly he worked it to full staff. It was so long he had to step back from the urinal to avoid touching the porcelain.
One of the older men saw it, gasped, and exclaimed. About that time the young men reached for me but the sight of his huge hard on set the men to jockeying for position, all of them trying to get a good look at the horse cock.
The young man paid no attention and continued to masturbate very slowly. His cock got stiffer and stiffer but his rhythm stayed the same. His huge fist moved slowly up and down the long, thick shaft.
Suddenly he came-- a huge load, but neither his breathing nor his stroking increased in speed.
After he had come, he matter-of-factly stuffed his cock back into his jeans, washed his hands, combed his dark curly hair, and walked out
I followed him and struck up a conversation. We talked awhile and it was clear to me that in spite of his incredible body and handsome face, he was unaware of his special sexuality. And in spite of his clothing, he was a
I drove him home and on the way I jacked him off. He got hard again very easily but he didn't want to come again.
He said he guessed he did have a big cock because when he lay on his bed in his rooming house someone was always looking in the door.
I saw him a couple of times around town after that, but he seemed to prefer to stand inside a booth with the door cracked and let someone reach in and jerk him off.
He was one of the most exciting visual experiences I've had. As you commented, sometimes desire alone and in itself can be thrilling.
|Author Profile: Boyd McDonald
||Born in 1925 in South Dakota, Boyd McDonald entered Harvard as a high-school dropout after serving in the army in World War II. Jobs with Time, IBM, and several Wall Street firms preceded Boyd's career as a chronicler of gay sex. He was the founder and editor of Straight to Hell (alternatively the Manhattan Review of Cocksucking), and later published a number of anthologies of true sex histories. Boyd died in September 1993, two months after completing his final book, Scum.
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