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I was fifteen in 1971 and had just started my sophomore year at the Catholic high school in Spokane. My parents were really hard-assing me about my grades, and I was on a strict curfew. It was Fridy night, and Mom was out of town visiting her sister and Dad had a double-back shift at the foundry, so he wouldn't be home until four in the morning. I had strict orders to be home by ten, but I had accepted a couple of buddies of mine's invitation to ride down to the the college town of Pullman and 'maybe get laid', as they put it. It was only a two hour trip each way so we would easily be home by two or three in the morning.
I had been working on my uncle's farm all summer and was in pretty good shape and considered myself to be a real grade A stud. It didn't occur to us that the college girls wouldn't want anything to do with a bunch of dweeby kids like us. None of us 'got any' that night, and we were just leaving Pullman when the car took a dump. That wasn't a problem for my buddies, as they wern't AWOL like me and could just hole there and fix the car in the morning. I would be in deep shit if I wasn't home by the time Dad got off work, so I decided to try and hitch a ride. I had been warned about the perils of hitchhiking, along with the warnings about sex, alcohol, tobacco, masturbation, and just about eveything else that kids enjoy. I had just about given up when a car pulled over. It was a Cobra, just about the neatest thing on the road. There was even a song on the radio about how hot they were. This guy says that he's going all the way to Spokane. I got in the car and he started off, then he reached behind the seat and fished out a couple of bottles of Olympia and offered me one. Beer! I loved beer, but the only time I ever had any was when my uncle slipped me some behind Mom's back. He finished his and flipped the empty out the top, nailing a road sign. I tried it too, but missed. He had been drinking all evening, and stopped to piss. He finished up, started to get in, then asked me if I had a license. "Just a permit." I answered. I nad been driving an old pick-up and a bunch of farm trucks that summer and was pretty handy with a manual transmission. "I'm sleepy as hell." He said. "You take it, just keep it under ninety and on the road." Man! I couldn't believe my luck! Any kid in school would kill to drive a car like this, and he was offering to ley me drive it all the way home. I was in seventh heaven. I would easily be home by three and I was king of the road in a car that would go at least a hundred and forty. I had her up over eighty when I came over a rise and saw that the road was full of deer. "Oh shit!" I said aloud, and aimed for the biggest gap. I missed them all, but scared myself shitless and slowed back down to sixty. He woke up right after that and had to piss again so I pulled down a side road, shut her down, and we both got out. We had both buttoned back up when he pulled a package of Camels from his pocket and offered me one. I accepted the forbidden treat and he lit us up with his lighter. It was only then that I got a good look at him. He was twenty something and tall. He had no beard, which was unusual back then, and he was real skinny, almost as if he had no muscles. We were ready to hit the road again when he asked me casually if I had ever gotten a blow job. "Sur." I lied. I was a pure, unstained virgin and that pissed me off. I didn't really know what a blow job even was at that time, but I knew it had something to do with sex and that I was forbidden to have anything to do with them. Some of the guy's I hung with bragged about getting them, but I didn't have enough balls to ask exactly what they were. Like every other fifteen year old I was horny as hell and was always looking for an opportunity to have sex, but all I had ever done was jerk off. "Ilove them!" "Well good." He said. "It's your lucky day. I'm going to give you one." Whoa! The Catholic school wasn't coed, and even back then there were rumors about certain young priests. We were constantly admonished about 'pleasures of the flesh' as they called sex in general, and we were particularly warned about the evils associated with 'unnatural sex acts,' such as might occur with another guy. I wasn't willing to push my immortal soul's luck that far. "No way, Man." I said. "Okay, you can just walk the rest of the way. It's only about thirty miles.' He went on to explain that he was the weird one, and that accepting one wouldn't mean that I was a fag. I really needed to get home, and nobody would ever know unless I confessed, so I agreed. He had me lean on the back of the car while he unfasted my belt and pulled down my jeans and skivvies. There was just enough moonlight for me to watch as he started licking the inside of my thighs and rubbing them with his soft beardless chin. I was embarrassed by the situation and slow to rise, but when I did when he took my balls one at a time into his mouth and sucked them. He then turned his attention to my dick. He licked the bottom of it with long, slow strokes for its entire five and nine sixteenth inch length several times before taking it into his mouth. The Catholic philosiphy is that anything that feels good is probably sinful, and come Sunday I would have a whole bunch of repenting to do because that felt great. I was harder than ever and my balls felt ready to explode. My orgasm came way too soon and was so intense that my knees buckled and I nearly blacked out. He didn't take his mouth away, but just kept sucking, like he was trying to extract every drop. He finally pulled his mouth off my dick and started sliding sideways on it like he was playing a harmonica. He then lowered his head and took first one, then both of my balls into his mouth and pushed them around with his tongue. Although I had just came I felt the heat rise and my dick started to get stiff again. Lights flashed by on the road as a truck passed, but we were out of sight from it on the side road. I had been gazing up at the stars and looked back down to see a dark shape hurtling at us. My next sensation was one of bliding pain, and then blackness as my head hit the ground. I came to amid flashing lights. I was strapped to a gurney and was being loaded into an ambulance. A policeman was holding a card and talking to the ambulance attendants. "I have the older one as John Carter, DOB May 6, 1950. The kid doesn't have any ID on him." "Jesus!" Remarked one of the attendants. "I never saw anything like this even in Nam." 'Well take a look here." Replied his partner, lifting the blanket from the midsection of the other victim. "This guy's not all there either." I learned what happened on the way to the hospital. The truck that I had heard hadlost a rear dual tire, which had hit the guy's head with a glancing blow that ended my life as a male. My balls were still attached to my body but the connecting tissue was irrepairably damaged. Surgical procedures that are common today could have saved my manhhod, but thirty years ago they were not available and the doctors chose the safest option and sugically finished the job the guy had started with his teeth. People wern't as open minded then as they are today and the doctors also probably figured that I didn't deserve to have them anyway. John Carter was guilty of a number of crimes, but he was never prosecuted. He remained in a coma for over a year and came out of it with the mind of an idiot. I don't know what ever happened to the Cobra with its ballsy 427 cubic inch engine.
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