Nasty Habits


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Self Shot

A story that is a little rough, especially coming from me, so take that into account as you begin. As always, feel free to leave your thoughts if so inspired.

***

The smell wasn’t so bad.

I remember thinking that as I stood at the urinal of the bus station, and that was an indication that I had been spending way too much time in the men’s room because I was getting used to the stench of the place.

This was the latest in what was a couple of dozen trips into this vile place, each time following a man in who appealed to me in hopes that when I got in there the man would be standing there at the long though urinal relieving himself.

It wasn’t the peeing that turned me on. It was the sight of a man’s cock I craved, and this bus station’s bathroom was ideal for this perverted pecker checking game I felt I was inventing. With no partitions it was a clear view from end to end.

A lot of guys were like me at the urinal, hiding themselves from view as they did their business, but there were the other guys who simply let it hang out for all to see. Those were the guys I loved to look at, because they invariably were the ones with no need to hide what they were blessed with.

As I was doing the toilet reconnaissance I felt embarrassed, knowing this was no way for an 18 year old to act. I should have been with people my own age doing things that guys do instead of hanging around a public restroom looking at dicks.

The problem was that I didn’t really connect with my generation. I was too square and had no desire to smoke dope and listening to the Grateful Dead. My ideal night would be spent listening to Frank Sinatra and enjoying the company of a guy 40 or so years older than me.

The couple of times I had been with guys my age were lousy. They hadn’t been as kind and understanding as the two older gentlemen who had taken me under their wing, so to speak. They hadn’t cared that I wasn’t very good looking and was certainly not well endowed by any stretch of the imagination.

So that’s what I was looking for that night, following every man who was more than twice my age into the toilet, hoping to meet – who? Daddy? I don’t know. All I knew was if I wasn’t here I would be home with Mom, alone and lonely. Here I had a chance but it was getting late and I was starting to give up hope, not to mention the fact that if they had security in the bus station they would have to notice that I was in the bathroom every five minutes.

Then a man old enough to be my grandfather headed for the men’s room, with me in hot pursuit. I turned into the room and headed for the urinal only to watch the old guy just go to the sink and watch his hands.

Dutifully I stood at the trough with my dick in hand, pretending to pee while reading the graffiti that I had practically memorized by then, and after the other man left I was just about ready to zip up and go back out to the waiting area when I heard footsteps behind me.

This new arrival not only came up to the urinal but he stood really close to be, especially when you consider that the urinal was probably eight feet long and we were the only ones there. He was so close that I could feel the heat from his body as he took his cock out.

Omigod. What he pulled out was a thing of beauty, and after I looked down at the long thick uncut snake that he allowed to hang out unsupervised, I glanced up to see who it was attached to. John Wayne.

Not actually John Wayne of course, but the man had the brawny Marlboro man look to him. About 6’4″ and over 200 pounds and probably around 50, with biceps that looked ready to tear the snug sleeves of the black t-shirt he was wearing that they were encased in. Big muscular hairy arms that could crush me if he wanted to, and a thick 5 o’clock shadow growing out of a ruggedly handsome face.

“Like what you see?” the man asked, his voice sounding exactly the way you would expect coming from a man like that, and he reached down and wiggled that huge cock around for my benefit and stretched it out like it was elastic.

The chill that went down my spine as I watched him manipulate his over-sized manhood was certainly not from the temperature of the muggy room. Neither of us were peeing but only one of us had an erection. I was trying to hide it but that plan went away when the man leaned over and looked at what I trying to shield.

He laughed – snorted actually – apparently amused either by the fact that I had a boner or by the pathetic size of my dick even when fully erect like it was. I was so excited that I didn’t care, and I was just about to cum simply from lightly rubbing my boner while staring at the stranger’s cock that I hardly heard him when he spoke again.

“Got something else to show you kid,” he said, and that’s when I looked up and saw what he was holding now instead of his cock.

A wallet, and when he flipped it open I saw the badge inside a second before I got thrown up against the wall.

***

He let me put my dick away before he frisked me, his hands diyarbakır escort rough and groping hard while he checked me for weapons in every part of me, and then he asked me if I would rather walk out of the station with or without cuffs.

“You make one move I don’t like and you’re a dead man,” he told me as he grabbed me by the back of my shirt and guided me out of the bathroom and through the station.

Outside, he led me to the rear of the station, away from the sight of others, and after he pushed me against the grimy wall he gave me my options.

“Usually with pervs like you I take you to the station and let your parents pick you up and deal with you,” he said. “They won’t put little kids in jail, although I think a night locked up wuith a pack of them horny fuckers might straighten you out.”

“Then again, you might like that. Think your daddy is going to like it when he hears how you spend your time?”

“My father – he’s gone,” I sniffed.

“Mama’s boy, huh? It figures. How the fuck old are you?”

“18.”

“Bullshit. No, really.”

“18. I swear.”

“In that case, you don’t get the kid glove treatment. You get arrested and locked up. Mommy can come down to jail and pick up her little fruit.”

“Please don’t.”

“Either that or I could give you some punishment of my own. Something you wouldn’t get in court,” the cop said as he slammed his massive fist into in his palm. “I could say you resisted arrest. Ever get your ass really kicked?”

“Please,” I cried a second before he grabbed me by the neck of my shirt and lifted me off the ground and back against the wall.

“Don’t cry,” he snarled. “I don’t like the tears. I do like the sissy part through. Want to be my bitch?”

“I just want to go home. I’ll never come back down here. I swear.”

“If another tear comes down that cheek I’m going to really lose it,” he snapped, and I nodded as he let my feet back down to the ground.

“We’re going to take a little walk, you and me,” he said as he led me away from the station, not into a patrol car but down the street into a nasty neighborhood.

***

I thought the block we were in was a row of abandoned houses, but sadly enough there were people living in some of them judging back the lights in a couple of windows that didn’t have boards over them. The cop either pushed his way inside a basement or the door just stuck. Either way the door slammed open and I was brought into a very sparsely and shabbily furnished apartment.

I was surprised when the cop hit a switch and the place lit up a little, only the light really made the place look worse. There was a kitchen table and chair, a stove and fridge that looked as old as the policeman, and a bed. The bed was more like an old stained cot without sheets that was riddled with stains.

“What’s your name kid?”

“Tim,” I said, and then asked what his was, which was not a good idea.

“My name is sir,” he growled while grabbing the collar of my shirt and twisting it, reminding me that a tear was a request for an ass kicking that would involve some dental work I wouldn’t want. “Understand?”

For some reason at that moment my eyes went to the cop’s bicep, which was bulging ever more with his exertion. Finally I nodded because he was cutting off my air supply, but that was good enough for the brute so he let my shirt go and went over to the fridge to pull out a tall can of Schlitz, which looked good but was apparently not for me.

“Strip.”

“Huh?”

“I said strip.”

“Here?”

“How about down at the station?”

I took my clothes off under the close observation of “sir”, and as he drained beer and crushed the can before getting another he took issue with the way I was dawdling with my underwear.

“I already saw your little peanut back in the men’s room. No sense hiding it now,” he said and so I tugged my underwear down and exposed myself completely, but now my dick was not hard and was instead acting like a turtle in trying to crawl inside my intestines. “Put your hands behind your head and keep them there.”

The cop reached down and picked my jeans off the floor to fish my wallet out, and in between looking at my ID and back at me, that scowl returned.

“Son-of-a-bitch!” he snapped. “You are 18. Going on 19, Timothy,” he sneered while derisively mocking the name on my license.

“Let me tell you something son,” he continued after throwing my wallet on the table and turning to face me again. “In my professional opinion that’s the tiniest dick I’ve ever seen an a man. No wonder you tried to keep it hid back in the toilet. It was sad looking then but at least when it was hard you could see it. Put your arms down for a minute and get it up.”

I reached down and started to pull on myself, playing with my equally shrunken balls as well in an effort to get an erection, but it wasn’t working. At least not fast enough for “Sir”.

“Sorry. I’m scared,” I protested as I watched him get mad watching diyarbakiranalatik.com me try to get erect, something I had never needed to TRY to do before.

“You the type that needs inspiration?” he asked and then peeled the form fitting t-shirt up over his head, pausing as it went over his face so I could see him in all his glory before tossing it aside.

He was gorgeous, even if I was hating him at the moment. The man might have been middle-aged but you couldn’t tell by his body, which was tight and nicely muscled. The coating of hair on his chest was jet black and extended down to his tapered waist, and his biceps looked even more massive out of that muscle shirt.

Why couldn’t he be nice to me, I recall thinking as I looked at that profoundly hairy chest, wishing that he would let me run my fingers through that luxurious matt of black fur so I could see if it felt as amazing as it looked.

Then he stepped out of is jeans and pulled down his tight boxer briefs after letting me look at the bulge that snaked almost out of the leg hole. I had seen that incredible cock in the men’s room and it looked no less incredible here in this dingy apartment, or hell hole.

Riddled with veins almost all the way to the tip of his foreskin, the organ looked frightening even flaccid like it was, and the balls that hung between his legs were equally massive. Despite being petrified, my dick was reacting like the man wanted.

“There. It’s still pitiful but at least you can see it now,” the man said while instructing my to put my hands back up behind my head. “Let’s see what it looks like next to a real man’s cock.”

The man walked up to me, so close I could smell the spearmint gum he was chewing, and told me to look down. He had lifted his limp cock up and placed it underneath mine, and if his intention was to humiliate me I guess it worked in one sense but not completely.

My pale erection stood out starkly against the dusky cock it rested on, but feeling our cocks touching with the tip of his resting just above my balls, sent shivers down my spine. The preposterous difference in size, with my erection not even half the length and thickness of his limp manhood, actually turned me on in a way I didn’t understand.

“You like that don’t you?” he sneered when he noticed I was sort of moving my hips to get more contact down there. “You like rubbing your scrawny pecker against my cock?”

“Yes,” I admitted as he moved away from me and went behind me.

“You are a little sickie aren’t you?” he commented, and after I felt the handcuffs put on my wrists again he lifted my arms even higher so that the chain between the cuffs was draped over a pipe above my head. “So am I.”

The man came back around to face me and asked me if I wanted our dicks to rub together some more, and I said yes.

“Here you go,” he said while taking his limp cock by the base and slapping my boner with it, causing my dick to bounce like a diving board from the impact. “How does that feel?”

“Hurts,” I whimpered, which made him start whipping me harder with his cock.

It didn’t hurt. Far from it. It actually felt good and although it sounds foolish to say, the sight of it was even better. Watching my dick get clubbed by that veiny monster was exciting, but if I told me that I liked the feeling I sensed he wouldn’t like that and would stop doing it and then do something I might not like at all.

After drubbing my dick for a couple of minutes he stopped and went back for another beer. His cock had gotten even longer from the abuse he thought he had given me, with the tip of his glans now peeking out from beneath the foreskin, and it had to be at least 8″ long as it was now. How can a man be so large, I wondered, as well as trying to figure out how big his would be when fully engorged?

“My wrists hurt,” I said, and my shoulders were starting to ache as well which served as a reminder that despite how excited I was looking at this man’s amazing body, I was in a bit of a predicament being hung in such a helpless fashion.

“I bet they do,” he commented, and then asked me if I was thirsty.

“Yes,” I croaked, and that had him reaching back in the fridge for a beer.

“Looks good, doesn’t it?” he said as he popped it and came over to me, holding the can a few inches from my mouth and moving it away when I leaned toward it.

“Open wide and tip your head back,” he instructed.

He then poured the beer down my throat, and it worked out about as well as you would imagine. After swallowing the first few ounces my throat got overwhelmed and I started to choke, the beer flying out of my mouth and all over my chest.

“You made a mess,” the man commented. “All over my nice clean floor.”

The floor was far from clean, but at least my mouth wasn’t dry anymore and the cool liquid on my chest felt good. So did his hand, which he used to rub the beer into my sweaty skin.

“Oh look, Timothy has hair on his chest,” he said, noticing that a single golden hair was growing around my left nipple, and as he lightly tugged on it he examined my other nipple and saw it was barren.

“Only one?” he snickered, and after telling me I looked stupid with that solitary hair on my chest he proceeded to pluck it out.

“Ow!” I yelped as my pride and joy fluttered to the floor.

“Don’t be a pussy. It didn’t hurt,” he informed me before continuing his inspection. “You’re sweating like a pig.”

It was muggy in that room and I could feel the sweat pouring down my sides from my armpits. Sir leaned over and took a whiff under my arm, and after rubbing his finger in the little wisp of soggy hairs he rubbed the finger under my nose.

“Starting to stink a little Timothy,” he informed me.

“It’s hot in here.”

“You’re right, and it’s going to get even hotter too,” he informed me. “I’m sweating too. Here, let me show you.”

Since he was about a head taller than me, all he had to do was stand on his toes a bit to stick his armpit in my face.

“Do I smell, Timothy?” he asked. “Tell the truth.”

“A little,” I said as I looked at what seemed like the hairiest armpit in the world.

His armpit hair was so thick that I couldn’t see skin underneath the jungle but the slightly sour aroma could not dampen my arousal, having long been attracted to hairy men.

“Then you better clean me up then,” Sir said, and he proceeded to grab the back of my head and push my face into the steamy jungle. “Suck it. Lick it good.”

I struggled a little because I suspected he thought I was offended by being forced to lick his armpit, but the fact was that I had been introduced to this form of foreplay by one of my older lovers and found I enjoyed it a lot. Now, being “forced” to I didn’t have to be embarrassed about doing it.

After I had slobbered under his left arm for awhile, he pulled back and asked me how much I liked it.

“Disgusting,” I informed him, and so he laughed and shoved his other armpit in my face.

I devoured his other armpit forest enthusiastically while offering some token resistance, as after he pulled away from my flushed face he said that he got the impression that I wasn’t disgusted at all and in fact it seemed to him that I liked it.

“You want me to do that to your pits?” he asked while toying with the soggy wisp of hair under my arm. “Would you like that?”

“Yes,” I answered, which was the wrong answer.

“OW!” I yelled after a brisk yank pulled out quite a few of the meager crop I had to begin with.

“Shut up pussy. It didn’t hurt.”

“Did too.”

“Why is your dick still hard then?” he asked before slapping my boner with his palm.

That didn’t feel anywhere near as good as his cock had, but I didn’t say anything in hopes that he wouldn’t do that again.

“Time for some fun. You like toys?” he asked.

He went over and got a bag from the corner, reaching in and pulling out brightly colored clothes pins.

“Please don’t,” he whined, which I knew wouldn’t help even as I was saying it.

Sir took my nipple and twisted it hard, his eyes twinkling as I moaned, and then he clamped the clothes pin on the tender flesh and did the same thing to my other nipple before stepping back and admiring his work.

“Nice, now let’s see what we can do with your twig and berries,” he said as he pulled out a couple of elastic bands of some sort.

“I guess I’ll have to double these over because they’re built to fit on a man,” he informed me as he secured one of these bands around the base of my dick, making my erection even harder and the pale color start to redden.

My balls took a while to band up because they were contracted and tight, but after his hand cupped my balls a moment the sac relaxed which allowed him to wrap the band around the top of my scrotum. It didn’t feel real bad but I suspected that might not be the case if these things stayed on long

“There!” Sir said as he played with my nipple clamps, making them hurt even more. “Having fun?”

“You are,” I sniffed.

“You’re right. I am,” he said. “Can’t you tell?”

He nodded down and I saw what he meant. His cock was now erect or nearly so, and while it hadn’t grown as much as I had feared it might, what was sticking out in front of him was scary enough.

“You’re liking this too I think, and even if you aren’t maybe this will teach you not to hang around men’s rooms anymore.”

“I won’t. I swear.”

“Easy to say,” he said as he went into the bag again. “Here we are. You like?”

He was holding up a purple rubbery looking dick, and to emphasize how big it was he held it next to his cock to show me that they were almost the same size.

“Time to get you ready for the real thing,” Sir said as he lathered some lotion on the thing, and after he greased up most of the 9 or so inches of purple rubber he hit a switch.

The switch caused the upper end of the cock to start undulating like some sort of hula dancer, and while I knew in my head that protesting and begging would only make it worse I couldn’t help myself.

“Please don’t,” I begged. “I’ll do anything…”

“I know,” he said. “Stop the tears and unless you want to get gagged, don’t scream. Understand?”

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