as Greg pulled himself together I waited for a few seconds, listening for any sign that our roommates had woken. All clear. I found my underwear and slipped then on as I made my way out of the bedroom to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, I let his seed drip out of my crack, thinking but how lucky I was to have a fuck-buddy in this program. My time here was going to be a piece of cake!
The End.......
Lots of people make a big deal about their sexuality these days. It's as if it's set in stone, whether a person's gay or straight. I think everyone experiment's and that's ok. Every now and then I get an urge to fuck a guy or two, and I'm married with two kids. My wife had a girlfriend before I met her and I'm sure lots of people swing both ways I'll try to recall all my other adventure's and write them down here in the future. Sort of like Dav''s kinky chronicals. Feel free to use my material in any way you see fit. I just get off on knowing people are reading my work! I've been in so many places and situations that I have loads of material to draw from.
Ok, it was 1998/99 and I was 22. I had gotten myself into a bad scrape with the law on account of my speed addiction and the judge decided that I needed hugs, not drugs. So he sentence me to a hard-core inpatient drug program for a year, in lue of 16 years prison time.
Now this program wasn't strictly just for drugs, but for any type of addiction or high risk individuals that needed close supervision. We had two SOs' that I knew of, a few serial car thieves and a sprinkling of gangbangers. Dirty Dave is my name and I've seen a thing or two. We'll start off easy. The program's name was Highways and Byways, it was ran by a short little guy that fancied himself a street preacher and he had connections with the local court system. So I guess you could say there was kind of a pipeline from jail to the Charles Ham interprise. We referred to ourselves as Hamonites and as such, we operated a slew of shady businesses from Paul's transmission shop to a pair of thrift stores and even a snowcone cart called Mr. Freeze. All staffed by drug addicts, thieves and paedos. On Sundays after church, we would chase hookers off the streets and shut down crack houses with nothing more than picket signs and a bull-horn.
If you didn't do exactly what the pastor wanted, he would, "hook you up". That would usually involve some poor sap being sent out to sweep the stoop only to be swarmed by PD and taken away.
Ever got a blow job from a toothless old queer, in a four man bed room at midnight? I did. Had to work with this guy on one of our moving businesses, and he was always wanting to fool around. Sucking me off at random locations and times as he felt the urge. In the bathroom of this old lady's house, that we were moving- for example. I can remember the look on her face as we both exited the john, me zipping up and Greg putting his teeth back in. She had a look of total horror as she realized what must have taken place. Didn't tell on us though. Greg was black-mailing me because he knew I liked to sneak out of the program most nights to visit my girlfriend. Had to pay the piper, or at least give the piper a flute to play every now and again.
Greg was one of those angry bitter people you meet in life sometimes. The glass was always half empty for that guy. He blamed his homosexuality on his former wife. Said she cheated on him and took him to the cleaners in divorce court. Now he could Never trust a woman Again!
Slowly, as I listened to this guy's rants, I began to pick up on some interesting details. If you just let a person talk long enough, they very often end up telling on themselves.
For instance, Greg lost all of his teeth because of a meth and coke addiction. That must have been fun for his wife to live with! Also, Greg was a masseuse by trade and had gotten into trouble with the law for giving a 17 year old boy a rub-down that ended in a blow job. It was a not-so-happy ending for the boy - as he felt guilty and confessed to his angry parents, who then pushed the issue as far as it could be pushed in court.
That might have had a lot more to do with why Greg's wife left. I guess the judge felt that even though 17 wasn't quite the age of majority, it was plenty old enough to know what was going on when another man starts stroking your knob. So Greg was sentenced to a year in the program for his sex addiction.
Ok, it was 1998/99 and I was 22. I had gotten myself into a bad scrape with the law on account of my speed addiction and the judge decided that I needed hugs, not drugs. So he sentence me to a hard-core inpatient drug program for a year, in lue of 16 years prison time.
Now this program wasn't strictly just for drugs, but for any type of addiction or high risk individuals that needed close supervision. We had two SOs' that I knew of, a few serial car thieves and a sprinkling of gangbangers. Dirty Dave is my name and I've seen a thing or two. We'll start off easy. The program's name was Highways and Byways, it was ran by a short little guy that fancied himself a street preacher and he had connections with the local court system. So I guess you could say there was kind of a pipeline from jail to the Charles Ham interprise. We referred to ourselves as Hamonites and as such, we operated a slew of shady businesses from Paul's transmission shop to a pair of thrift stores and even a snowcone cart called Mr. Freeze. All staffed by drug addicts, thieves and paedos. On Sundays after church, we would chase hookers off the streets and shut down crack houses with nothing more than picket signs and a bull-horn.
If you didn't do exactly what the pastor wanted, he would, "hook you up". That would usually involve some poor sap being sent out to sweep the stoop only to be swarmed by PD and taken away.
Ever got a blow job from a toothless old queer, in a four man bed room at midnight? I did. Had to work with this guy on one of our moving businesses, and he was always wanting to fool around. Sucking me off at random locations and times as he felt the urge. In the bathroom of this old lady's house, that we were moving- for example. I can remember the look on her face as we both exited the john, me zipping up and Greg putting his teeth back in. She had a look of total horror as she realized what must have taken place. Didn't tell on us though. Greg was black-mailing me because he knew I liked to sneak out of the program most nights to visit my girlfriend. Had to pay the piper, or at least give the piper a flute to play every now and again.
Greg was one of those angry bitter people you meet in life sometimes. The glass was always half empty for that guy. He blamed his homosexuality on his former wife. Said she cheated on him and took him to the cleaners in divorce court. Now he could Never trust a woman Again!
Slowly, as I listened to this guy's rants, I began to pick up on some interesting details. If you just let a person talk long enough, they very often end up telling on themselves.
For instance, Greg lost all of his teeth because of a meth and coke addiction. That must have been fun for his wife to live with! Also, Greg was a masseuse by trade and had gotten into trouble with the law for giving a 17 year old boy a rub-down that ended in a blow job. It was a not-so-happy ending for the boy - as he felt guilty and confessed to his angry parents, who then pushed the issue as far as it could be pushed in court.
That might have had a lot more to do with why Greg's wife left. I guess the judge felt that even though 17 wasn't quite the age of majority, it was plenty old enough to know what was going on when another man starts stroking your knob. So Greg was sentenced to a year in the program for his sex addiction.
