Everywhere

I was 21, wild and looking for adventures. That meant fighting and sex, not necessarily in that order. I took off on a cross-country tour of amateur fight matches.

Miami: My first stop. I had been told not to miss Key West. I took the bus out there and a sailor I met on the ride came back to the hotel with me. What a slam-bam hotel it was: Wood frame, no air conditioning and action all night and day long. Guys, girls, everybody.

The sailor sucked me off and then I rammed my still hard cock into his willing, firm ass. Took a shower with him. We went to the beach and hung out there for a while. He disappeared with some guys. I had to ask another guy for a ride back downtown. The jerk told a cop who then asks me if I am a drifter or if I had a room and money. I said I had both. He wanted to come back with me to the room to check my story.

The cop, a young rookie, drove me to the hotel. We went to my room and I showed him my travelers’ checks. He was satisfied and I thought that was it. But he sat on the bed and just started shooting the shit. I did not mind. I had a hunch that he wanted to go the route. He sat with his legs spread, but I kept my cool waiting to see what would happen. He finally reached for my crotch. I did not need any more encouragement. He sucked me dry but did not leave. I turned him over and ate his ass until he came.

Next stop: El Paso. The Army/Navy Y dormitory. There were a lot of beds but only five of us there. My bed was off to the end of the room by itself. I guessed the other four guys were from the Army base at Fort Bliss. Around midnight I spotted one guy coming over to the bed next to mine. He was butt naked. I waved him over to my bed. He went right to it and sucked and rimmed me. Later, I fucked him long and hard.

Los Angeles: The downtown Y. Had not been there but a half hour when I met this blond beach boy. He sucked me off.

The Embarcadero Y in San Francisco was wild. The orgies lasted until 3 a.m. Sailors, Merchant Marines, truckers. You name it.

Seattle: Downtown Y. Went into the steam room. No holds barred. Wild, horny guys. I set a new record for myself by getting sucked off in the first five minutes.

Outside Chicago got picked up by a blond guy on a motorcycle. He was cool. Had a crew cut. Looked like a G.I. We stopped near Joliet and went into a barn by the side of the road. This guy was about 6 foot 5 and all muscle. He wanted to be fucked.

“Get that big cock inside me,” he whispered. “Screw me silly.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “I’ll ram you until you cry uncle.”

“Fuck me, big boy. Fuck me hard.”

And I did. I couldn’t get enough. I never wanted to leave that big, beautiful Atlas. I caught up with him again a year later in Cleveland.

In San Diego, down by the Naval Training Center, I ran into the Shore Patrol. They roughed me up a bit and I took it. As they were leaving, one of them dropped a piece of paper in my hand. It was his phone number. I called the next day.

The voice said: “I need you.”

“When?” I asked.

“Tonight.”

“Where?”

“Santa Fe train station.”

He pulled up in a Corvette and drove me to a cottage overlooking the ocean.

“It’s a friend’s house,” he told me. “It’s all ours for the night.”

He was a super-stud. Hard as rock but cool. Quiet and easy going. I wanted him bad. We did not waste a minute.

His hot lips were around my cock working it until I dropped a full load down his throat. But I wanted more.

I turned him over and fucked him.

“Ride me, stud,” he called back to me. “Ram my butt.”

I rode the bouncing bronco all the way. I nailed him three times. I had to rest, but he stood over me and started licking my body. He tongued my cock and hole, and licked my feet until my cock came alive again. I fucked him a fourth time. Afterwards I held him for a long time.

“Love me, big boy,” he kept saying.

It was all crazy, man. Crazy. That trip.

Mike

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