This part of my story comes after My Girlfriend’s Best Friend Part 4…
My senior year of high school, ’77-78, had its ups and downs. Up- my dick stayed very happy because I had an abundance of willing sex partners.
Jocelyn was my Sunday, Monday and Tuesday girl. She was in her first year at Hartnell College in Salinas and we fit together well. She might have been able to tame me, but I was a long term project that was never going to fit into her life.
Jocelyn was spoiled. Her wealthy parents gave her everything. Even though she didn’t Lord it over me, she also never asked me to go places with her on the weekends when she mainly hung out with other rich brats. I was only the ‘Bad Boy’ of her rebellious youth, not her future. No, she was the kind of girl that was going to wind up marrying a doctor or a lawyer, maybe even a politician. I just had the magic cock she needed for the time being.
Sheryl, my Island Goddess, was the girl I always thought that I would end up with. Beautiful, great bod, bubbly personality and we got along really good. She was pushing me to spend more time with her and I was happy to do so. I could see a future with that girl.
Michelle, my married older woman, was beginning to take a back seat among my regular sex partners. It wasn’t because I didn’t like her; it was mainly due to the fact that I just didn’t have time on my increasingly busy fuck schedule. I still spent time with her, but usually only when my other girls were dealing with their time of the month.
Ruth had pretty much stepped up as my go to girl. If I didn’t spend the night with her, I still went over early before school for morning sex. And 2 or 3 days a week we would go back to her house for ‘lunch’. Then almost every day after school I would take her home and we would fuck again. And since her parents were always happy to see me, I spent nearly every weekend with her. Even if I had a gig and didn’t get in until 3 or 4 a.m., Ruth always welcomed me to her bed.
And Ginny… what can I say about Ginny that I haven’t already said. Jocelyn had made me promise to see Ginny more often and I kept my promise. Once every couple of weeks I would go see my little brown bitch, get the absolute best blow job and fuck her super slippery slit. Then I wouldn’t think of her unless I didn’t have one of the other girls available.
Plus, there were always the hot chicks hanging out back stage wherever my band played. Even though we were doing well, had gigs all the time and were even the opening act for a number of popular bands based out of the S.F. Bay Area, we were still playing all cover songs. I was trying to get the other guys interested in writing original music, but they all had families and were comfortable doing what we were doing. I didn’t just want to play music, I wanted to make it.
Down: something happened in March of ’78 that would change my life. We opened a show in Concord for a fairly popular Bay area band (initials PC) and I was kinda blown away by them. I had never been impressed with their music on the radio, but watching them that night really opened my eyes to their talent. The after party was a killer and I sampled one of the beauties that were available. But we still had to drive home so I didn’t drink or do any of the drugs that were set out except for a little weed. I would be thankful for abstaining.
We headed south in a three vehicle caravan with my truck bringing up the rear. We were in the far left lane going through San Jose when out of nowhere I saw a flash of light. The next thing I remember is my band mates trying to find a way to get me out of my truck, but I was stuck. I had been hit by a drunk driver.
The driver’s side of my truck was pushed up against the cement center divider. The truck that hit me had come up an on-ramp at about 100 MPH, veered left across the four lanes of freeway and slammed the front left of his big truck into the passenger side door of my smaller pickup. My truck was now kind of V shaped, with that passenger side door trapping me against my door, which was against the divider. The steering wheel was against my chest but not crushing me, just kind of holding me in place. I couldn’t move my legs very much and I couldn’t feel my right arm at all.
One of the guys drove up to the next exit, found a phone and called 911. The days before cell phones, right? The first person on the scene was a San Jose PD officer. Since it was on the freeway, he called for the CHP., Fire Department and Ambulance. It took a while before everyone got their shit together, and the whole time I was still trapped in my truck, half my face a bloody mess and not knowing if my right arm was still attached.
Eventually a tow truck arrived and hauled out the drunk’s truck so mine could then be pulled away from the cement divider. Once that was accomplished, then they were able to cut me out of the front seat. My right arm had been pierced by a long metal rod that had been driven through my shoulder, the seat, the back of the cab and through the front of the bed of my pickup. That’s when I got concerned about the welfare of my drums. No one else seemed to give a shit about them and I really started to get pissed off.
It would turn out that my Ludwig Vistalite Blue (clear blue) set would be fine. Only one drum was damaged, a minor crack that made no difference whatsoever. I, however, was a different story.
The right side of my head had a lot of glass embedded in it, as well as my right arm. I had lost a patch of scalp and forehead to my dashboard somewhere along the way. My right arm was still attached, but the firemen had only cut the front and back of the metal rod (I think it was my hood stand) and left the rest of it in me. It needed to be surgically removed. My right leg suffered a few cuts, but for the most part I was going to be fine once the surgeon removed that rod.
Salinas was only 50 miles south of San Jose. Since I wasn’t 18, the hospital had to call my mother and get her up there to sign the consent form. No matter how much I tried to convince them to just get the fucking thing out of my shoulder, they kept telling me I was a minor and needed a parent’s consent. What a bunch of bull.
It was almost light out when they finally wheeled me into surgery. I didn’t want to go under general anesthesia but was over ruled by the surgeon. Since I still couldn’t feel my arm, he said that once the rod was removed I might need to be worked on further, depending on what they found.
A nurse had steadily been working on removing the glass from my head, face, neck and arm. Along with the cuts on my leg, I ended up needing over one hundred stitches to close all those wounds. My shoulder ended up needing work other than just removing the rod, but the surgeon was convinced that I would regain most of the feeling and use of my arm, although it would never be as strong as it previously had been. And my entire right side turned black and blue for a week from the trauma of the accident.
I ended up staying at the hospital in San Jose for five days before being discharged. The first day, the day I was brought in and underwent surgery, all I wanted to do was sleep. I remember a couple of the guys from the band came to see me that night. I remember saying hi, then I was watching them leave. When I asked why they were taking off so soon, they told me they had been there for fifteen minutes and I had fallen asleep after saying hi. That’s about all I remember from that day.
The next day when I finally woke up, I wanted to know what the fuck had happened to my drums. No one at the hospital knew. I was pissed. I didn’t even give a shit about the asshole who hit me or the condition of my truck; I just wanted to know where my drums and cymbals were. I would find out the next day that my truck was sitting in a salvage yard and nothing had been removed. The CHP had prevented my buddies from unloading them at the accident until the investigation was concluded. Just pissed me off even more.
But not all of my hospital stay was bad. That second night a nurse came into my room and asked if anyone had bathed me yet. I said no and figured she would wrap up my right arm and shoulder so I could shower. Instead she told me she was going to give me a sponge bath. I had no clue what that entailed so I said sure. She closed the door to my room and helped me out of that stupid hospital gown.
I sat on the edge of the bed while she washed my back first. Then she had me lay down and she washed my chest and stomach. She pushed the bed cover back and started washing my legs, having me roll on my side to get to my ass cheeks. Finally, there was only one more place to wash.
When I rolled onto my back again, I had an erection. I was embarrassed but couldn’t help it. The nurse was pretty and her soft hands rubbing over my body had triggered the inevitable. It didn’t even phase her when she saw it. She finished washing my genitalia then proceeded to squirt some body lotion in her hands.
I never really cared much for having an oily product smeared all over my body, but since I was laid up I decided to go with the flow. She followed the same pattern as she did before, except when she got to my cock, she started stroking it. I couldn’t believe it.
“You are right handed, aren’t you?” pretty nurse asked. I nodded in agreement as I stared into her green eyes. “Since you can’t use your arm for a while, I’m going to help you out tonight. A young man like you will probably have a nocturnal emission if you aren’t properly relieved. And nobody wants to clean up that type of mess when we can prevent it in the first place, right?”
I could only smile, nod and kind of ‘mmm-hmmm’. Sounded very clinical but felt so very erotic.
“You have a very nice penis”, pretty nurse remarked. “This is the kind of cock that really hits a woman’s g-spot. Did you know that?”
I kinda mumbled, “So I’ve been told.”
“I’ll bet the girls are all over you. Your chart says you’re only 17. That’s hard for me to believe. I’ve never seen muscles like this on a 17 year old before.” She started stroking faster and stronger, gripping my raging rod with a strength that seemed beyond her size. “How does this feel?”
“Oh fuck!” was about the only response I could muster. She just smiled and her hand moved even faster.
She had laid a towel on my abs to catch the semen, and I knew I was getting close to busting. She had my dick in a position where it was curving up but not back into the belly button. Her mistake.
When she made me cum, the first shot was almost the consistency of piss and spurted all up and down my face and chest. The next few ropes shot over my head and on the wall. She finally pointed the head of my cock into the towel and kept squeezing it until I was empty. When I looked up at her, she was looking at the wall, the towel and my face and chest. Her eyes were big and her mouth was open like she was in shock. But I was feeling better than I had been.
When she spoke, it was in a reverent whisper. “When was the last time you ejaculated?”
“Friday night I hooked up with a girl at the after party of our gig.”
She looked stunned. “You mean to tell me this is only two days of build up? This is a lot of fucking cum! I’ll bet you have a medical condition where your body produces more seminal fluid than normal. Holy shit! Now I’m going to have to bathe you again and disinfect the wall. Wow! That was really exciting! I’ve never seen anything quite like that. So much for preventing a mess, huh? I’ll be back in just a minute.”
She finally let go of my dick and left the room, making sure to close the door on the way out. When she came back she was all smiles. She cleaned me up, then the wall and floor, changed the pillow case and asked if I had been given any pain meds. I said no. She left again and returned quickly with a needle which she plunged into my hip. I remember that The Rockford Files was on TV. When the pain meds hit, I saw double. Pretty nurse said she would check in on me during the night, but once I was out I didn’t wake up till morning. A new nurse was on day shift and was the no nonsense type. Shit!
Jocelyn was the only girl who found out what happened and where I was. She knew she wives of the guys in the band and called Sunday night when I didn’t show up at her house. She came up Monday and spent the afternoon and evening until visiting hours shut down. She worried over me worse than my mother. I was pretty sure that I would get a lot of sympathy sex when I was able to leave. I probably could have talked her into hospital sex if she had been allowed to stay past visiting time. I called Sheryl and Ruth after Joc left to let them know I was alive, just in case they were wondering. Ruth seemed a little miffed that I hadn’t called sooner, saying she was really worried when she hadn’t heard from me by Saturday night. Not much I could do about it at the time so she forgave me.
I was finally released on Thursday and even though I was still in a lot of pain, I was glad to leave. Pretty nurse had come back on Tuesday night but didn’t give me an encore performance from Sunday. She must have had other patients to take care of.
My mom took me to the yard where my truck had been towed. Standing there looking at it, it seemed like a miracle that I not only survived, but was basically able to walk away without super serious injuries. My shoulder would never be the same, but looking at that ’73 Datsun pickup, I knew I was lucky just to be breathing.
With mom’s help, I got all my stuff into her Impala. Then I signed over the title of the totalled truck to the salvage yard and went home. The insurance company of the drunk driver paid out about twice as much as I had paid for the truck, so I got a ’74 model to replace it. All my hospital bills were paid, and a settlement was reached for the permanent shoulder injury several months later. I had to go through about six weeks of rehab just to be able to move it.
And I got a shit load of sympathy sex, and not just from my regular girls. A few of the girls I had ‘dated’ from school made sure I was more than comfortable, along with a few that I never thought would be with me. I guess serious bodily injury has some advantages.
But not when it came to my rock band. One of the other drummers from school filled in for me with the school jazz band until I could play again. But my other band needed someone to fill in right away so they didn’t have to cancel any gigs. When I was able to play in April, they told me that the new guy was a better fit for them. He was their age, was satisfied playing cover songs and had a family like all the other guys. I got a thank you, hope everything works out and fuck of. At least, that’s how I took it. Play with a group of guys for nearly five years and get told you’ve been replaced by a mediocre musician. Yeah. Fuckers.
So, while I was not playing music, I had a whole lot of free time on my hands. I had never really been a party animal, but that close to graduation I was surrounded by people who were now asking me to party with them. Unfortunately, I dove in face first. I had never done anything except alcohol and weed, but all of a sudden I found that everyone seemed to be offering me cocaine. I got offered mushrooms by a jazz band buddy, then tried acid. And I pretty much stayed stoned from the moment I woke up until I fell asleep.
Ruth was the first one to say something about the change. We were in bed one night and she said she was worried about what was happening to me. I tried to convince her that I was the same guy. Maybe I was just trying to convince myself. She didn’t threaten me by withholding sex, but she knew I was struggling with something bigger than I could deal with by myself. She didn’t know what else to do, so she tried to fix me with sex.
Since that one accidental anal fuck, she had withheld her ass from me. After my accident she was very liberal with it, urging me to fuck her in the ass again and again. I think she was trying to pull me back from the edge that drugs were taking me by offering me a different kind of edge to fall off of. I kept doing the drugs as well as fucking her ass.
I had never taken Ginny’s ass even though she had given me carte blanche to do with her what I wanted. Until I got hurt. When Ruth began telling me that she wanted it ‘back door’ more often, I began wanting it more as well. One night when Ruth wasn’t available, I went to see Ginny and get her to fess up her virgin ass.
Ginny was like a mommy, wanting to take care of me and nurse me back to health. All I wanted from her was sex. And when I told her what kind of sex I wanted, she looked very worried.
“I’ll take it real slow and easy”, I promised. “It might hurt just a little at first, but then it’ll start feeling better than regular sex.”
I told her anything I could think of to set her mind at ease. I knew she wouldn’t refuse me for anything, but I was hoping that she would want to try it instead of thinking that she ‘had’ to do it for me. I thought it would be better for her to go into it with a positive attitude instead of fear.
Once we got into a fuck, Ginny’s juicy pussy made gallons of natural lubricant. It always ran down her ass crack and this time was no different. I kept one hand down beneath her ass and kept pushing more and more of her lube into her pucker hole. It didn’t take long to know she was as ready as she would get and I slipped my hard cock out of her puss and held it against her ass.
Ginny let out a gasp as I pushed against her sphincter. The head of my cock pushed past the pressure and she cried out in pain.
“Ah, ah! No, no, no!” she begged. “Please, stop, baby! It… it hurts too much…Oh, God, no more, please baby, no more!”
I didn’t care. I pulled back an inch then dove deeper. She screamed again. I was glad no one else was home at the time. I eased back then went deeper. She had plenty of lube so my thunder stick kept sliding deeper with no resistance. Except for Ginny asking me to stop, the rest of her body was giving every indication for me to go deeper.
I got my thick prick all the way in her ass and held it there. I was aware once again of Ginny’s presence and that she was crying.
“Ginny, it’s gonna be okay, I promise. I won’t move again until the pain goes away. Pretty soon you’ll feel better and when you do, it’s gonna feel like nothing you ever felt before.” I kept telling her these kind of things, mainly hoping that it would be true, but not really caring. I just wanted to fuck Ginny’s round, fat ass.
Just like at summer camp when I was thirteen and she was twelve, I could feel Ginny’s body relax underneath mine until she wasn’t crying and clinching her ass so tight. I kissed her and whispered in her ear, sliding my tongue and and out of her mouth, pushing against her ass without moving my desperate dick in and out yet.
We were in the middle of a deep, wet kiss when I pulled back and shoved it in to the hilt. Her hips bucked against mine in protest, but that only gave an extra measure of thrust and she moaned deeply into my mouth. But it wasn’t one of pain; it seemed to be one of ultimate satisfaction. And by the way she greedily sucked my tongue, I knew she had discovered at least the beginning joys of anal sex. Now it was time to broaden her horizons.
Part 2 coming next
Thanks,
Rocky J.