Copyright 2010 Sticky Pen. All Rights Reserved http://www.stickypen.com en-us Tue, 15 Jun 2010 20:53:23 -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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The honeymoon was a financial splurge. Long-planned, we flew to Barbados to one of the luxury hotels, one that had a reputation for housing international celebrities and the amenities were all geared to that level. Well-heeled paying guests. And us, the newlyweds.On the first afternoon of arrival, we parked on the beautiful sandy beach outside our hotel, with the wonderful clear waters of the Caribbean, so clean and clear that you could see your toes when you were standing in water at neck level. My bride was in her most flattering bikini, and I felt sort of territorial when I knew others were checking her out. I was in a tight Speedo that I knew flattered my masculinity and showed off my endowment. We caused a bit of stir on the beach and people noticed us. But later that afternoon, another couple arrived on the beach. They caused all heads to really turn.She was tall and slim, and walked with that graceful twisting stride of a runway model. (That was no surprise, since it turned out that she WAS a runway model in Manhattan.) Her swimsuit was ultra revealing of her slim and flowing curvaceous body, her sunglasses were artfully perched on her high cheek-boned face, and her straw hat was the kind that you normally only saw in fashion magazines. Her new husband was brawny and muscular, with rough-hewn features, wide bodybuilder type shoulders, beefy biceps, dark hairy fuzz that ...

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 ...

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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 ...

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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 ...

Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen]]> http://www.stickypen.com/Stories/True_Stories/1946:-A-Sailor-In-Need_1945 True Stories Wed, 22 Nov 2006 10:53:31 -0500
I was l8 years old, in the U. S. Army and was bound for Japan. I reported in at Fort Lewis, Washington, and along with the other troops waited for the ship to take us overseas. It took a few days of processing and then we were loaded in buses to be transported to the ship that would take us to Japan.The ship was crowded and we soldiers were in bunks that were stacked 4 high. I was told to be sure not to be in a bottom bunk in case some soldier above me got sick and - well - you know why. I took an upper bunk.From my upper bunk I could check out all of the studs aboard. I watched as they took their uniforms off to get ready for bed. Their old fashioned underwear showed a lump that told me that their cocks and balls were hanging. It made me horny to be so near so many beautiful, horny studs. I got horny and had quite a jackoff session before I went to sleep for the night.After the U.S. Navy had the ship loaded, we sailed out of Seattle and into Puget Sound. This was my first time to be at sea and I thought it was great. After a look at the passing sights of Washington, I then retired to my bunk for the night. Then during the night hours, the ship sailed into the open waters of the Pacific Ocean. What a shock! The ship ...

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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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