The Lonesome Loser
Series. 01 (Part I - The Beginning)
The Story:
The Beginning
The prequel:
My name is Mickie, Michael Combs, or Mickie-boy, to my mom, and Michael to my dad. I have always been pale-skinned and skinny, with dirty, reddish-blonde hair. Mom would let my hair grow out, but once it grew too long, it would thicken and turn rusty orange. Then, once I began Elementary school, my hair would always be buzz-cut or kept short.
Up until I was a pre-teen, I was a mama’s boy and followed Mom around like a kitten.
Growing up in Westbury, Maine, I lived as a mama’s boy, seeing little of my father. Then, tragedy reared its cruel head. I was just eight when my Father was killed in an automobile accident. We packed up once the funeral was over and moved to California to be closer to my mom’s sister.
Life wasn’t so great in Oceanside.
We were broke and knew no one until I met the neighborhood kids, all girls my age.
I could never connect with the boys my age in Oceanside, because they were too rough and bullheaded.
So, most of my pre-teen years were spent beside my mother or with the neighborhood girls. At the time, I wasn’t taught the differences between ‘what boys did’ and ‘what girls did’, which was lucky for me as I associated more with girls. Everything was now fine and dandy, living in Oceanside. During my Elementary and Middle school days, I spent most of my time with girls and even took non-gender-specific, girly classes, such as drama and dance.
Throughout late Middle school, I slowly started feeling anxiety and felt that I was born defective, and was more of a girl-boy than a boy.
In California, Mom was happier being closer to my aunt and my cousin (Bethany). I was not; I thought my aunt was undermining my mom in our own house.
She may have been happy, but I wasn’t totally. I was slowly holding demons inside. No one saw the struggles I was holding inside me. I often second-guessed myself and didn’t know whether I was a Jack or a Jill. It was during this period that I felt weirded out seeing people kiss, and being affectionate with each other, or being kissed myself.
It was probably because I grew up without a dad or a big brother that this fact haunted me throughout my puberty and into early adulthood.
I found answers to my questions, but only after I was over 18.
That wasn’t until I paid a visit to a psychologist, when I was 18 and looking for an evaluation for a job I was applying for. She diagnosed that I was aromantic and part of the asexual spectrum, non-binary, and not autistic. As a pre-teen and throughout my teenage years, I knew nothing about that stuff. Although I was lucky, throughout my tweens, when I breezed through Middle School and entered High School, I felt that, even though I wasn’t a traditional rough-nut boy, I was untouchable as a girl-boy, and everything was cool.
That was a false sense of security that would soon end abruptly.
Until this stage of my life, I was able to act out all of my feminine personas without any drama and be a girly-boy, and mask my Jack and Jill demons.
That shroud ended in my first week of High School. I was bopping along in my own world as one of the girls. So, I had signed up for the school's ballet, gymnastics, and drama programs. Little did I know that the winds of change were about to change all that in an instant. My reality check came when I was confronted by the schoolyard bullies who pushed and provoked me.
That bond I had with those identical girls I had known since elementary school soon ended.
Then, I wasn’t prepared for puberty to start rearing its head and affect my environment.
Being a girl-boy twink mama’s boy in High school, I soon found out it wasn’t a good place to be. After all, I was already fighting with my conscience about my sexuality, and then a bunch of thugs started bullying me. They were bigger than me, and would call me all sorts of nasty words like faggot, and freak while shoving and punching me in the shoulder.
It didn’t help my case that my so-called friends had turned on me and would join in on the act.
So, I had no option but to drop out of ballet, drama, and gymnastics classes soon after.
I never felt so alone in my life. No matter where I went in the schoolyard, these school bullies had this knack of always finding me. All the bullying and mocking caused me to withdraw from people and seek refuge. So, in the end, the mob mentality of bullies won.
I felt like an outcast, and I became somewhat of a shy and troubled teen.
My mental state had gotten worse once the bullying started, so I spent hours, days, if not weeks, pondering dark thoughts.
All the bullying and mocking caused me to withdraw from people and seek refuge. Whether I was a girl trapped in a boy’s body, or a fag, or just a wimp, all my thoughts started heading to thoughts of killing myself. That was until the day I found sanctuary within the school library.
The darkness stayed with me throughout High School and into college.
In the library, I found to my surprise that I wasn’t the only one hiding from the school bullies.
There was no book in the world to help ease the bullying that I and many others would endure. Inside, there was a diverse group that consisted of geeks, loners, and those who felt like losers. I would never have gotten through that period of High School without the library. We found comfort and safety in the school library, and we soon became friends. One of the guys was reading a Stephen King novel called “It”, which is where we got the idea to call ourselves “the Loser’s Club.”
In that early High School phase, one of my library friends was Zayne.
Before I started hanging around with Zayne, I was always in a dark and depressed way.
The schoolyard bullies had turned my world upside down, but Zayne helped me forget my troubles. For the next two years, Zayne became my first real male friend, and he lived just a few blocks away. We lived on either side of this large park, surrounded by woods and with a public BBQ area and restrooms just off the main road.
So, for the next two-or-so years of High School, Zayne and the rest of the “Losers Club” were my salvation.
By the time we were all 18, we would meet on the edge of the park in the mornings and walk to and from school, until mom bought me a Vespa scooter.
Then, one day in late Spring, Zayne showed me what was hidden away within the park near our houses. It was here that I started to express myself and learn a few lessons. They were ‘Bros before Hoes,’ and chicks can't be trusted, and masturbation was Zayne’s solution to depression and everything in life.
By the close of summer, things at school became easier when I started playing school lacrosse.
I was now old enough to drive, but we couldn't afford a car, so Mom had bought me an old Vespa for Christmas.
Masturbation also helped me, too. After school, we would meet up where I’d parked my Vespa, and I would take him to the edge of the park, before going our separate ways home. I didn't have any bike helmets at the time, so we took a chance to avoid crashing.
We were as thick as thieves through that period of High School, and by the time we were both 18, we still were.
This is where the story begins:
I was now 18, and into my final year of High School, and I'd grown out of that skinny, scrawny kid and into one with a much-toned physique.
Also, I was now part of the school lacrosse team. Zayne was still my best buddy, and still, we were virgins, all of us “Loser Club” members were. On a warm day, once school had finished, Zayne met me by my Vespa, as usual. On this day, he made me take a detour down a dirt track deeper into the park's hidden canopy. It wasn’t that far from where he showed me before, but far enough away from our school and the notorious restrooms. There was heavy foliage, so we ditched my Vespa inside some shrubs. We then found our way on foot deeper into the forest. We walked for about 5 minutes through rough terrain until we came across a lagoon oasis.
It took my breath away. This area would become our secret getaway used in many later stories.
From this day onwards, during the warmer summer months, this became our regular spot.
We would be one with nature, ditch our clothes, and then jump in the lagoon. At first, I felt awkward walking around naked in front of Zayne. Eventually, it became second nature to us. We would skinny dip, toss stones naked, climb trees naked, and be free from the burdens of the outside world. One day, after watching a documentary on witches and Salem at school, we started acting out and experimenting on ourselves by our lagoon. Soon, we would be prancing around naked like the witches of Salem. I felt incredibly alive here.
From that day on, we would ditch our clothes by the Vespa, and only wear shoes to the lagoon.
I felt so alive, shedding my clothes, and it felt so soothing.
So, for the next few weeks, we not only felt the freedom to stroll around naked, but for the two hours or so we spent there after school, it was like we were in Neverland. It was as if we were teleported back to the 17th century, frolicking like witches before the Salem trials ruined everything. We’d prance around naked and not be judgmental of each other.
It was with Zayne that I would soon have my first sexual activity.
We, like everyone from the “Loser’s Club”, had both put up with a lot of crap from school bullies and put a lot of effort into our studies, and finally, we could relax.
Now, Zayne and I have found a way to release some of our frustrations. While frolicking by the lagoon, I couldn’t help sneaking glances at Zayne’s cock. I grew fascinated by how much bigger it was than mine. While seated on a fallen tree, I was throwing rocks and twigs into the lagoon. Zayne may have busted me a few times, sneaking glimpses of his cock, but didn’t say anything.
Then one day, Zayne rolled a joint and took a drag before passing it to me.
I had never smoked anything before, so when I took one drag, I felt an instant buzz.
It was then passed back and forth from him to me. I thought it was powerful stuff and must have been laced with something, because I became compliant and relaxed very quickly. I also couldn’t help but lock my eyes on him and his cock. Then I noticed something strange once Zayne passed me the joint again. The tip of his tongue was subtly poking out between his lips, and moving from side to side in a suggestive way.
This played tricks with my head as I took a drag from the joint.
It was then that I realized what he was hinting at, which made me blush and lower my eye contact.
We both had untapped sexual tension that had built up over time. Now my curiosity was running wild, as we both sat naked. I was imagining touching his cock. Zayne had become one of my closest friends, so it was only natural for me to imagine playing around with him, but I was too chicken, too. Until eventually I stared a little too long, and Zayne couldn’t continue his charade. When I glanced back at him, I found his eyes were trained on mine. Oh shit! He caught me. He smirked and let out a sly giggle.
I felt so ashamed and looked away immediately.
Not knowing what else to say, I bit my bottom lip.
“Wow, your cock is so much bigger,” I said, lost for words.
I’m not sure what prompted me to say that. His cock was long and plump, with a thick shaft and a fat head. Mine, on the other hand, was hard and fully erect, but was still smaller than his half-mast. In truth, Zayne’s embarrassed me.
We were within inches of each other, looking at each other's cocks.
“Fuck Zayne, your cock is big,” I said, while Zayne smugly screwed up his face.
“Yeah, small like a bitch’s cock,” he giggled, while reaching over and touching mine.
Then, he showed off by standing up and rubbing the pubic mound above his cock, and making it jump about. So, I rubbed the mound between my belly and above my cock, and tried to make my cock flop loosely.
That was the icebreaker, as we both broke down with laughter.
Deep down, it felt good, but I also felt judged.
I felt relaxed as I continued to make my cock flop around, before sitting back down next to him on the fallen tree. Zayne tapped me on my knee. I smiled back at him before feeling a bit nervous, so I dived into the lagoon. When I raised my head from the water, I saw that Zayne was stroking the lower part of his shaft and watching me.
I’ve heard Zayne talk about masturbation from time to time, but never would I myself masturbate in front of others.
I stopped watching Zayne as I started to rub the lower part of my shaft underwater.
My cock felt the hardest it ever had been. Then, for no apparent reason, I felt like I was about to cum. Just as I did, I stopped immediately and stayed in the pool. I then splashed around and tried shaking it out. Before, I tried to clear my cock’s hole by peeing, but I couldn’t pee before coming out of the water.
Embarrassed, I climbed out of the water and sat back down next to him.
Feeling confused, I looked at him, then his cock.
I subconsciously reached over to touch and tap his cock.
“What’s up?” Zayne enquired.
“Something's wrong with me, I’m hypnotized by your cock,” I replied.
I don’t know why I said that, or why I started toying with his cock. Then I felt eyes upon me and quickly looked at Zayne. I thought he would give me a look that killed, but instead, he had a look of approval in his eyes.
I slowly started caressing my hand over his cock.
Staring at it while caressing it, before looking at Zayne again.
His cock must have grown by a third larger than mine. While I softly caressed and soothed his cock, I heard him give out a huff and saw him lick his lips. As if in a trance, he grabbed my balls.
He muttered something.
I looked at him, puzzled.
He then ran his fingertips under my balls and cupped them, and made my cock twitch. As I started letting out soft huffs, he moved his hands to the back of my shaft, and my breathing became heavier from excitement. Zayne had a soft grip on my shaft and began to stroke my cock up and down. Then, before I knew it, he’d pushed my hand away from his cock, and he started stroking both our cocks.
He only used his thumb and a finger on my cock, but the effect was enough.
I felt my instinct kick in and inhibition leave.
Everything in the world became a fog as I leaned forward and kissed his lovely cock. He didn’t seem to mind, so I started licking the head of his cock with my tongue while kissing it. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I now had an overwhelming feeling, before I acted on it.
I gently took part of his cock inside my mouth, before the bulge of its head went through my lips, and I rubbed the top of my tongue.
Finally, I got to have his cock to myself after weeks of admiration.
It was clean, soft, smooth, cut, with a slight musky scent, and felt like I was sucking my thumb at first. I swallowed heavily before I sent his cock deeper inside my mouth. My mouth slowly filled with saliva as I began to bob on his cock. It started to grow and fill my mouth, and it quickly became apparent how dominant and supreme his cock was.
I thought about taking his cock deeper inside, but I couldn’t get it past the back of my throat.
This was a spur-of-the-moment thing, and I hadn’t thought about taking a cock in my mouth.
So, as my throat clenched around cock, I continued bobbing up and down while caressing his lower shaft. The laced weed in my system, and as I slowly picked up pace, I hadn’t fully realised what I was doing. It was as if I were dreaming it.
Usually, I would have thought that what I was doing was demeaning and humiliating.
The fact that I was naked by a lagoon with cock in my mouth, with saliva oozing out from inside my mouth and dribbling down my chin, I felt confident and in the zone.
The whole time, Zayne never uttered a word. It was as if I was just a warm mouth for his cock to enjoy and step one in breaking me in. When I began to process his silence, I started to feel self-conscious about what I was doing.
Was he even enjoying it, or was I doing a good job?
Then, out of nowhere and for no apparent reason, Zayne grabs the back of my head and holds it firmly but gently.
He says sorry, and then proceeds to force my head down the length of his 8.5-inch cock. With his cock still inside my mouth, I was no longer in control of it. He started pumping my head up and down his cock, I had no say in the matter. So, for the next five minutes, Zayne face-fucked me. I couldn’t believe it. Up until recently, I hadn’t touched another cock, let alone having one now stuffed down my throat.
I must have looked a sickening sight, with saliva escaping my mouth around his cock.
Glancing up at him, I could only assume from the urgent expression on his face and the fierceness with which he was sliding into me that he might finish in my mouth soon.
Zayne started pumping into my face harder and tried forcing his cock even further down my throat. I was still clenching my jaw like an amateur, and struggled to take any more. Once he had his cock down my windpipe, my eyes rolled back in my head as I struggled to breathe.
Once, I had him inside my mouth, I really, really wanted to be like those pornstars girls and take as much of him as I could.
They were professionals, and I was an amateur, and this was reality.
I was almost unconscious until he pulled back out enough for me, so I gulped down some air through my nostrils. In reality, I so wanted it out of my mouth at this moment, so I could cough and clear my throat. Then, Zayne picked up his pace and tried to kill me with his cock for the next 30 seconds. He was making me gag once again.
He relented and released his grip on my head and let me suck on my own accord.
I returned to sucking and licking the head of his cock, then returned to bobbing up and down his shaft.
By now, I was so horny I hadn’t even thought about my cock, while I had cock in my mouth. I was so high and horny, and tried to relax and enjoy his cock as much as I could. Before I could relax enough, I heard him moan, followed by a few more moans. His moans sent my sucking into a pleasuring zone.
“That’s it, my good little slut,” Zayne groaned and complimented me.
I never twigged what all his moans signified.
So, I continued bobbing on his cock, with my mouth drowning me in saliva. Within seconds, all the sucking, licking, and drooling were soon joined by something else. His cock was now convulsing and filling my mouth with a torrent of warm, salty liquid. This sudden twitch made it hard to keep his cock inside without extra dribble escaping down my chin.
He had just cum inside my slimy mouth, and once he pulled out, I didn’t hesitate and swallowed all the liquid down my throat.
After swallowing, I gulped for fresh air, while he smeared his cock over the top of my head.
My only regret was that once he’d let go inside my mouth, I didn’t savor the moment a bit longer. Inside my slutty mind and hungry mouth, I licked his glistening cock and tried not to waste any cum if I could, before sucking on the head of his cock for a few seconds more.
Then reality hit me, I felt so ashamed and used, with a tinge of gullibility, as I slowly wiped off the saliva and cum from my chin.
Afterward, after I dropped him off and rode my Vespa home, my heart was still pumping fast, as I replayed how I was face-fucked by my friend.
I felt confused, and the floodgates had just opened. All night, I replayed the event and couldn’t help masturbating to images of cock. Even in the morning, I was still fantasising about swallowing cock. Suddenly, I thought there was no turning back, or so I thought.
As I arrived at school, the afterglow faded, and as I looked at the other students arriving, I felt crushing shame for my actions.
It was there I swore to myself, never again.
Luckily, Zayne didn’t bring it up until we were back at the lagoon after school. All day, I felt used and ashamed of myself, and the words the bullies used to call me were ringing in my consciousness. I was back in my box, and I couldn’t look him in the eyes or anyone all day.
At the lagoon that night, Zayne started probing with questions as we stripped off.
The one that made me react was, “Are you gay or something?”
His words sank in, and I hung my head down and felt ashamed of myself.
“Uh, I, I, I don’t think so,” was my answer.
After a minute of silence.
I was racking my brain now. How can I be disgusted by the thought of kissing, but I can kiss and swallow a cock without that same disgust?
“Um, are you gay or something? He asked again.
His words shocked me enough that I had flashes of the bullies, Zayne's cock, and naked versions of my old school neighborhood's friends, Amy, Chevaun, Erin, Gemma, Issy, Karen, Michelle, and Nikki.
“What?” I felt anxious.
I felt confused, but before I could utter a word, Zayne had his cock out and shook his cock about near my head.
He teased me with his cock by slowly stroking it before me.
I was at a loss as to what to do. My weakness kicked in, and I snatched at his cock with my right hand and started licking it. Then it went into my mouth. So, I gave in to my weakness and began sucking and licking his cock, until he squirted his seed inside my mouth. I was still licking his cock five minutes after he’d finished in my mouth, making him groan.
This time, I was in complete control, and he didn’t instigate face-fucking my head.
We then jumped in the water and stayed there for a while.
When we both climbed out and sat by an old log, I confided in him.
“Look, I’m not gay,” I said, a bit embarrassed.
“Nor am I, but having a jerky boy as a friend is still much more fun,” he said, putting his hand on my knee.
So, for the rest of the Summer, it began, our daily ritual of jacking off had turned into me sucking off Zayne.
I grew to enjoy sucking his cock and lost my guilt for cock.
(To be Continued)
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