He was in his late 30s – me, I was 16. Underage, but only by the letter of the law. At this point, I knew what I was doing and actively seeking it out.
I was a resourceful guy and by the time I had my driver’s license, I had scoped out places to find dick. There were no adult bookstores where I lived, so they were a good 30-40 minute drive. But as often as I could, I made my way over to those places.
Either I appeared older than I was, or the clerk looked the other way as he collected my $5 for entrance. I suspect the latter, as years later, I pondered to myself that I was more than likely good for business. Friday nights were the busiest – and most convenient for getting away from my house. As soon as I could get over the nerves of walking through that front door, the rest was a breeze.
I think I’ve mentioned here that I always felt lucky to have experiences with MEN. Not boys. Never boys. And that it only occurred to me years later, that some of these men must have thought they were the lucky ones to be able to use a teenager. And make no mistake, they used me, but I used them as well. I was wise beyond my years.
One night, I ended up leaving with this man in his late 30s. We went in his car, leaving mine behind. A foolish thing to do when I reflect upon it, but a 16 year old is run by hormones and hormones alone. Not a whole lot different than a 36 year old, I suppose….or 46….or 56. We’re pigs. Or at least we don’t think with our brains.
He drove me to a deserted parking lot - one used by commuters to catch the train into town. But on a Friday night, the commute is over, the lot empty and black as pitch. It was there he violated me. Twice. Willingly, but still……….
With both of us out of the car, on the passenger side, he had me turn face toward the door, so my body was against the door, my head looking out over the roof of the car. The penetration was slow and deliberate. It was only spit for lube and I had not experienced poppers yet – and would not for another almost 10 years. Outdoors, night, raw, spit – it was about as au natural as you could get.
He continued to sink into me with soft and continual words of encouragement, but the reality was, he wanted in and the encouragement he was giving was for his own benefit. It’s so easy to see these things later in life. I probably knew then too, but it wasn’t at the front of my mind.
The guy went in and bottomed out, pressing me between himself and his car. It didn’t last long, that first time – about five minutes before he told me he was going to cum and then proceeded to dump his nut in my teen ass. After a minute or so he slipped out and I was there with my jeans around my knees but not moving fast to get them back up and buckled. Even out here, for potentially any to see, I felt safe – with no good reason. He had put himself away.
We chatted for a few minutes about what just happened. He chatted mostly. He asked my age, I lied. He asked if I liked it, I didn’t lie. He told me he loved it and how tight it was. I’d now like to know if he would have been more turned on if he knew I wasn’t legal or scared shitless. At the time, he was turned on by what he didn’t know.
I went to hike my pants up and he stopped me by putting both hands on my shoulders. “Not yet”, he said. Without another word he turned me back to being against the door, my ass sticking out. Never hearing the zipper go down, I soon felt that is must have, as his hard dick was back at my hole. This time he needed less effort to push in me and took more time fucking me.
The grunts were louder, the non-worded verbals were more frequent. The metal on the car was cold, his flesh was hot. The fucking got harder. Harder than when he started and a lot harder than the first go-round. He pounded me against the car – no one to see, no one to hear. He added his load to the first one. They co-mingled and stayed in me.
This time he didn’t wait for it to slip out, he pulled out and zipped up. I got myself together too. I almost thought he might leave me there – a mile from my car, but he drove me back. I considered going back in to see who else was there, but I knew I had to get home – I had a curfew.