Copyright 2008 Sticky Pen. All Rights Reserved http://www.stickypen.com en-us Fri, 23 May 2008 12:10:30 -0400 webmaster@stickypen.com True Stories http://www.stickypen.com/Stories/True_Stories/Coach-and-the-Snowstorm_1981 True Stories Fri, 01 Dec 2006 09:54:58 -0500
This is a story based upon real events and can be considered as totally true. It happened pretty much this way. Like a lot of guys in these stories, I could have lusted after the football coaches if I had had much contact with them, but most of my time was spent with the basketball staff. My lanky frame had taken time to develop into a tall coordinated athletic status but by the time that I had hit senior year, I was doing well as a starter on the b-ball team. And basketball was king. In central Illinois, not far from the hot spots in Indiana where they make movies with Gene Hackman where the little Cinderella teams in Indiana always seem to end up being the sentimental winner….well, we were a little Cinderella team also, and we were damned good, even if we were not in Indiana. The five of us starters played well together, and we had been playing together for years. Our coach was fairly new to the community, not yet thirty years old, and was the Assistant Principal at the high school as well as being head coach for the team. He was also tall, at 6’4”, and very personable. Handsome. Blonde. Muscular. He looked really good in the sleeveless jersey with nice biceps and pecs that were on display when he scrimmaged and all of us guys liked him in our own way. My way included a physical admiration. My Dad was a strong supporter, and ...

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When I was only a kid, I was forced to live alone and try to make a living for myself. I’d been kicked out of my family's home, because I told my parents that I thought I was homosexual. I really did not know what a homosexual was. But, I felt that I was one. My parents were very right-wing religious people. They didn't have room in their hearts for a queer son. So, I was ordered to leave their house. I only had a jacket to keep me warm - no gloves, no cap, no money, no nothing. Winters in St. Louis, Missouri are freezing cold. I still wonder how I made it through that first awful winter. I was homeless and lived on the streets. I always had to keep an eye open for the police and the truant officer from school. I was propositioned by every dirty old man in the city. But, I turned them all down. If I went to the theater to keep warm, some man would try to play with me. I went to a priest to ask for help. All he wanted was to feel my dick. I knew that if I were to have any life, I had to make it on my own. That was the best education in the world for me. I was so hungry and cold. But, I knew that anything was better than the life I was trying to live back at home. World War II was ...

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I was picked up by a guy in an open top Porsche. He was older than me and had dark blonde hair, a strong thick neck and what looked like a beautifully hard chest under an open necked shirt. We chatted and he would look at me occasionally, and I felt that his eyes scanned over my body before returning to the road. He turned off the highway saying we could take a more scenic route to his town where I could then continue onto the highway. We drove through some beautiful country and now and again he would touch me on the shoulder to point out a building of note or the antics of a group of animals. We laughed and relaxed in each other’s company. Our eye contact became electric for me and, with a nervous constriction in my chest, I touched his thigh to point out a fantastic swathe of wildflowers in a meadow. Before I could remove my hand he put his over mine, gave me a quick glance and a wicked grin as he slid my hand further up his thigh and cupped it over his crotch. I felt so excited and my own cock was bursting to be released from its cramped erection. Emboldened, I massaged his bulging crotch and slid my other hand into his shirt, undid another button, and ran my hand over his chest and stomach. I was not ‘green’ but I had never been in a situation like this before, and ...

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When I was a young guy, I was forced to live on the streets because my parents did not want me. It was an excellent education for me. Street people knew how to live, get along, and to look out for each other. Once the street people knew my problems, they all seemed to look out for this dumb kid. They would warn me to avoid certain creeps and protected me when they could. I would wash dishes in some greasy cafe for my food. I would clean floors in order to get some money. I had to do all kind of jobs to get by. It was a terrible life for a young guy like me. It was freezing weather, but for a little money, I could go to a cheap movie and get warm. Every day was an education for me, and it taught me to take care of myself. I was a street kid, so I knew how to fight if I had to, and there were times that I had to protect myself. I am amazed that I came out of that as good as I did. In l945, I was in the army. I was underage, but the army let me stay in until I was 18, then they sent me overseas, to Japan (1946). If you read my story "1945 - My First Time" you will know about this handsome Cherokee Indian. He talked me into sucking his cock and that was my first gay ...

Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen]]> http://www.stickypen.com/Stories/True_Stories/-A-Cold-Winter-With-A-Hot-Stud--_1996 True Stories Thu, 07 Dec 2006 12:03:46 -0500
During the winter of l947 - 48, I was stationed with the U.S. Army in Headquarters European Command in Frankfurt, Germany.
On a cold and wet evening I was returning to my army barracks in Frankfurt. Although it was early in the evening, it was already quite dark. I was on a streetcar heading for the barracks, when I saw a terrible accident. Two German cars had crashed on the wet streets. I got off of the streetcar so I could help in case anyone needed me. Then the police and an ambulance arrived so my help was not needed.
As I was watching and getting very wet from the rain, I thought I should hop on a streetcar and head back to the barracks and have my dinner at the mess hall. A German guy came by and asked me what happened. We began talking and soon we were chatting about the accident. The more we watched and chatted, the wetter we both became. He was as wet as I was and we both were cold. We both needed to get out of the rain and into a warm room.
He was a very friendly guy and invited me to his home for a glass of "Glee Wine". This wine is heated a little and herbs are added to it. When one gets chilled the people in Austria and Germany often have a glass of this wine to warm them up. So we got into his car and he drove ...

Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen]]> http://www.stickypen.com/Stories/True_Stories/Coach-and-the-Snowstorm-2_2003 True Stories Fri, 08 Dec 2006 12:20:20 -0500
This is a story based upon real events and can be considered as totally true. It happened pretty much this way. “What if I told you that your Coach wanted to bottom for you, and wants that very, very much. Could you handle that?” I stared at Coach for what I thought was a long time before breaking into a wide grin and quietly saying, “Oh yea, Coach, I think I can handle that.” He smiled and said again, “You just do not know how much I want that.” And we drove on home with no other discussion of it, other than the oblique reference to “getting together real soon”. Over the next week or so, we did not have any physical contact, but I wore a constant woody thinking about being with Coach. I must have jacked off several times a day. When I would see him in the hallways or in a classroom, he would always wink, and a couple of times, he groped his crotch while giving me the big eye as well. I would get an instant blue steel boner. I decided to stop by his office to see if we could get something scheduled but was stopped short when I got there. Of all things, my Dad was sitting in Coach’s office and I had this immediate reaction of abject fear that we had been discovered. Coach saw me, and waved me in. My Dad was there to express his appreciation to Coach for chauffeuring me ...

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As I was sitting across from him, I felt an odd desire in my groin, something I had felt before but not this strong. We were all sitting around playing a game and drinking; things were coming to a close though as it was 3am. Since I was a guest, I assumed that I was sleeping in the living room, but he offered to let me sleep with him in his room.“Sure, why not,” I said, as my cock was stirring below.So back to his room we went, both of us eager. He closed the door behind me, making sure to not make any noise. He turned around and looked at me, both of us radiating lust and hunger. Before I knew it, our lips were locked and our tongues exploring. He started undressing me, expertly guiding his hands. By this time I was rock hard, feeling like I was going to pop out of my pants before he got them off.“I want to suck your cock!” I said, panting in lust.“Are you sure?” he asked. “I thought you were straight.”“I like sucking on cock.”He pulled off his clothes, and there was his seven-inch cock, rock hard and ready for some sucking. By this time my cock was throbbing and ready for some action too, so I started kneeling down to suck on his cock.“Hold on, let’s get in a sixty-nine on the bed.”“Ok, whatever you want.”Once on the bed, I started on him like I was trying to ...

Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen]]> http://www.stickypen.com/Stories/True_Stories/Tom-at-the-Pool_2709 True Stories Thu, 11 Oct 2007 12:02:23 -0400
I had recently lost weight. In my desire to keep the weight off, I decided to start swimming each morning. The indoor city pool was right next to where I worked so it was the logical choice.I enjoyed doing laps each morning and like so many of the guys who regularly swam there, looked pretty good in my Speedo. The pool was a regulation Olympic size pool and the morning swim had standard divider ropes to create the various lanes for different levels of swimmers. I usually swam in the middle lane being neither an Olympic-grade lap swimmer, nor a novice at this form of exercise. Almost every morning, there was a guy who swam in the lane to my left. He was in better shape than me and a better lap swimmer, but I sure enjoyed scoping him out as he out-paced me on each lap.I knew his name was Tom. He was about my height, light brown/blond hair cut close. He was in excellent shape but not buffed or ripped. His body was absolutely beautiful. He was broad in the shoulders and had a narrow waist; what we call on line, “a swimmer’s build.” He had an easy smile and a gentle laugh that he didn’t use often enough.While I enjoyed the exercise in the pool, I have to admit I enjoyed the locker room more – for entirely different reasons.The locker room was standard fare with rows of small lockers facing wooden benches anchored to the painted cement ...

Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen]]> http://www.stickypen.com/Stories/True_Stories/Sailors-on-Leave_1570 True Stories Tue, 25 Jul 2006 09:00:49 -0400
SAILORS ON LEAVEThis is a true story of my first time.My brother was five years older and was in the Navy. He had come into Treasure Island in San Francisco and our Mom and I went to greet the ship. He yelled down from the deck to Mom and asked if he could bring a couple of shipmates to our house as they all had an overnight leave pass. Mom yelled back to bring them along. We went on home and about 2 hours later, my brother and 12 of his shipmates showed up with bags of groceries, bags of beer and carrying their civies in duffle bags. After changing into their civies, the festive remainder of the day began. Drinking beer, eating food that they had brought. There were young men all over the house.The evening set in, a couple of the guys passed out on the sofa and easy chair. A couple passed out on the floor just using their duffle bags as pillows. My brothers bedroom had a double bed and I only had a single bed in my bedroom but, they figured 2 could sleep in his bed and they would have one guy bunk in with me.I was sound asleep when I felt the bed move as a young sailor crawled into my bed wearing his white boxer shorts and t-shirt. I looked at my clock and it read 2:30 am. I could barely see what he looked like by the street light that was reflecting ...

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“It sure is warm out for being 2 in the morning.” I said as me and my two friends walked down the dark, forest path. “I hope the water is warm.” Eric said. I saw the trees above me open into stars. The swollen river and distant water falls filled my head with a deep roar as I approached the bank. Night swimming was becoming our new favorite summer activity. “Race you guys to the other side!” I said as I bolted for the river, stripping my shorts and boxers off. The water was a comfortable temperature as I swam across the fast moving river. It was a beautiful night, the moon was full and the air was thick and warm. Perfect for skinny dipping! I reached the sand on the other side and enjoyed the heat it held from the day’s sun. Zach was the last to sprawl out naked on the sand next to me, breathing heavy. The three of us lay there catching our breath starring at the stars.“We should swim over to those big rocks in the middle of the river.” Zach suggested. “They probably are still really warm from the sun.”I was the first to agree and stand up. Zach and Eric followed and we walked side by side in the sand.“Dude, all I can see is floating butts.” Eric said referring to the way the un-tanned portion of our bodies seemed to float ...

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