The Gang Which Started It All!

Few people have had their first sexual encounter voluntarily, that too with more than one person in the room. Normal people date first, have fancy dinners, walk by the beach, talk, listen to music, watch movies— and then they have sex.

After the “incident” (if you don’t know what I’m talking about shut the damn book and flush it down the toilet) I became promiscuous, and not with a whole lot of winners, because I’ve always said: my vices are junk food, chocolate and bad men.
I screwed a million really, gross, older, sleazy guys. Is a million a lot?
I’m surprised I’m alive. Particularly since I’m telling you all about it.

Recovering after my “doctor-patient” game, I stopped talking to the T.F.M.N.P. (The Frequently Molesting Neighborhood Pedophiles)
Okay, okay, I didn’t stop talking to them, but I was more careful, and continued my studies and everything was okay and stuff.
Found out that I have not one but two sisters from my dad’s past marriage (he brought them to visit us). Hated them since then. Natural response. Couldn’t help it, sorry.

Eleven was the age when I became seriously sexually active; it was at night, me walking with my neighbor friend in the neighborhood and guess what? It’s caper, the raper!
He came to me and told me that he wants to talk to me about something.
For a moment I remembered our past together and I really don’t know why…!
He took me to one side, a bit far from my friend, where his friends were standing and told me that he wants to “play” with me one more time with his friends— not one, but five!
I was shocked, was like “…okay? But you only? I don’t want your friends to come…”
He said “Fine, they’ll stay outside.”
So I went inside his place and the first thought that cropped up in my head was “I wonder where the hell are his parents?!! Every single time this happens and they’re not around!”
His name was Ali, he was Sixteen or Seventeen at that time. I liked him very much and I trusted him more than the other one (who four years later had a car accident led him into the hospital for more than a month and his back hurts so bad— karma I guess. More on that later.)
Ali’s parents had lots of troubles; you could hear them shouting while you’re walking by their house. I remember that his mom was pretty much crazy and I always wondered why the hell that hot man (Ali’s dad) married her!
I remember her sitting on her plastic chair, her skin was o-kay, tanned, her hair was straight, brown with dark roots, thin eyebrows (just like Kristen Stewart’s in that twilight movie), wearing a hot pink top with dark blue jeans drinking water directly from the bottle (And every time a man passed by she rubbed her pikachu, which made me wonder whether she was having a sexless life?)
Back to my story, and not her dry !@#$s’; I went inside his room. He sat next to me—shirtless I may add— and started kissing my cheeks and my neck. We got naked and he started rimming me (my first rimming experience. Go figure.)

You might think that I looked like a regular eleven-year-old kid, ladies and gays (straight guys probably won’t read this book, too much drama), but I looked much older, so if you’re imagining that moment (which I hope you aren’t you sicko) don’t imagine a young hairless fresh piece of meat, picture something a bit older like Nick Canon with his pubes and teenage angst issues.

Ali was adorable; tanned, sleepy eyes, strong body, and um, drum roll… A thick, clean, juicy big schlong (Don’t pretend you wouldn’t have felt attracted to him. He was the very definition of hot to these eyes at that time).
I enjoyed every moment of it, sucking that piece of meat (I was bad at blowing back then, I wonder if he liked it. Inexperience sucks.)

Then, guess what? What, you can’t? I’ll just bet you can.

His friends came in, all four teenagers, and what’s more two of them were twins. I was horrified, scared and ashamed of myself. They looked at me with a huge lusty grin on their faces.
I stared at Ali who couldn’t make eye contact for a minute, then he looked me with a “sorry” look on his pretty face. I stood up, half naked (covering my hot body with the bed sheet— and I’m not talking about temperature here) and said “What do you guys want?”
One of the twins said “We want you,” while the others laughed.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re going to let them in?” I accused Ali.
“They threatened me and told me that they’re going to tell my dad that I’m smoking,” he said.

He let them inside just because they told him that they’re going to tell his dad that he’s smoking— WHAT A PUSSY!!

I couldn’t move an inch, looking at them and they looked back. The grin was gone by now; they locked the door and turned off the lights.
Imagine this with me for a minute: if someone else was in my shoes, the first thing he would do is tell his parents and let them deal with that mess. I just didn’t want to.
Okay, now you’re thinking that I am sick and need a shrink, but I was scared too and telling my parents about this mess would kill them and make them feel bad about their parenting skills. They raised me well and I just didn’t want to make them feel awful.
Above that, my dad will think that I let this happen. Yes, I could’ve screamed my lungs out to make them stop, but still I was afraid that they’ll hit me or kill me –Remember, my body looked old, but my mind was still innocent, well as innocent as possible in such circumstances– so I kept my mouth shut about it.

The sex was okay for a first time thing, (had worse later) and thank god that it didn’t hurt me. After we finished, I went home, took a shower, had dinner, watched TV and acted like nothing happened.

Why not look on the bright side? I had just spent my very first anal sex evening with five hot teenagers, including twins (Who gets that, even when they’re practically begging for it?!)
This thing taught me lots of stuff later in my life like: if you have been gang banged and the next day you heard all the kids asking you about it, just deny it as much as possible, go to the gang who banged you act cool and say “Suck it.” then ignore them to the rest of your life and Don’t trust a guy that tells you in front of his friends that he’s going to be the only one who’ll fuck you, ‘cause if you did, you better buy a whole month’s supply of lubricants and ready your backyard for a rough ploughing session.