Chapter 1

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, mt/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Reluctant, Coercion, Lesbian, BiSexual, Heterosexual, BDSM, DomSub, MaleDom, FemaleDom, Spanking, Rough, Light Bond, Humiliation, Group Sex, Harem, Polygamy/Polyamory, Interracial, White Couple, White Male, White Female, Hispanic Female, First, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Bestiality, Enema, Cream Pie, Exhibitionism, BBW, Big Breasts, Public Sex, Slow, .

Desc: Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Under the right tutelage, an awkward young man comes to understand his true purpose in life

I was a pretty fat kid right up until puberty hit and I started to develop some muscle. Between my 13th and 14th birthday, I grew 6 inches. I always had a bit of a temper ... being called 'fatty' for the first 13 years of your life will do that. When I was a freshman, I got into a fight with a sophomore on the wrestling team. He beat on me like I was a rented mule but I didn't feel it. I was so mad that I just kept coming at him. I got in a few good licks, myself. I remember the satisfaction I felt when my fist connected with his mouth and I saw blood spurt from his cut lip. Finally, he got me into a sleeper hold and held me there until I slipped into unconsciousness.

When I woke up, I was in the nurse's office and the wrestling coach was sitting there thumbing through a Reader's Digest. My head felt like someone had split it open with an ax. I groaned and tried to rise off the padded table they had me on. That's when I realized that they had taken some gauze bandages and tied my hands to the rails of the table. The wrestling coach cocked his eye with an amused grin when I struggled against my restraints.

"You're quite the scrapper"

"Let me up", I said

The coach shook his head, "Can't do it. You've been tagged as violent"

"What the fu ... VIOLENT!?!?!?! He fuckin' started it!"

"That's what I hear too", the coach said. "I never did like that prick ... always starting fights ... good middleweight though ... lots of promise ... he needed four stitches to close his lip. Just in case you were wondering"

"You can't keep me tied up. It's against the law"

"Not if you've been tagged as violent", said the coach. "We can 'restrain you for your own protection' ... which is what we've done, restrained you for your own protection"

He went back to reading the magazine. "Some of these jokes in here are pretty funny, wanna hear one?"

"So how long am I going to be tied to this thing?"

"Until I think you've calmed down"

"Fuck that!", I said and balled up my fists straining at the bandages that tied me to the table.

"Now, see ... that just isn't the way to show me you've calmed down..."

Both of the bandages broke at the same time, my fists flew to my face and I knocked myself out.

When I woke up again, I was again tied to the table (they doubled the gauze this time) and the wrestling coach was standing over me grinning from ear to ear. He held up a mirror, "Wanna see what you did to yourself?"

I looked in the mirror. I had two of the blackest eyes I'd ever seen and my nose had been smashed so that it was sitting under my left eye. Not only that, it was bent so that, now my nostrils were slightly turned to my left ear. It wasn't a pretty sight.

"Doesn't help your looks any", the coach observed.

I underwent surgery to get it all straightened out. When I came out of anesthesia, I became a bit more than merely belligerent with the nurses and doctors in the recovery room. When I was fully recovered, the doctor asked me if I drank.

"No", I replied.

"Good!", said the doctor. "Don't take it up or you'll end up in prison. You're the meanest drunk I've ever seen"

Because of the after surgery tussle, my nose didn't end up as straight as it might have been otherwise. I felt cheated until I overheard one of the girls in school remarking that it made me look 'ruggedly handsome and a little dangerous'. I guess what they say is true ... chicks dig scars. I got my ass kicked, then I kicked my own ass, and I ended up looking like someone to be feared.

The wrestling coach decided that I needed to work off my aggression and put me on the team. By the time I was a junior, there wasn't any sign I had any kind of a weight problem at all growing up. I was right at 6 feet tall and 170 pounds, most of it was muscle. Still, it's hard to shake the image you have of yourself when you were growing up. In my mind, I was still an ugly fat kid.

Deserved or not, I had a reputation for violence. Guys pretty much stayed away from me and, whenever I tried to talk to girls, they always looked like they were scared to death of me. I didn't date much.

I grew up in a deeply religious family that dragged me to a local franchise of The Church of the Good Ol' Boy every Sunday and made sure I went to all the youth activities. When I turned seventeen, my parents had either gotten tired of arguing with me or they decided that I was old enough to make my own decisions. In either case, they stopped making me get up and go with them to church on Sundays mornings. After a few weeks, I noticed that my mom stopped ironing my Sunday clothes and setting them out ... I was officially a lost cause.

I quit the wrestling team and started hanging out with a different crowd at school. I started to smoke and drink and I even tried a few drugs but quit them all on my own after a few tries. Smoking just didn't ever seem to set well with me. As for the drinking and drugs ... I just never liked the feeling of not being in control of my senses. The doctor's warning about prison was always in the back of my mind.

The people at church pretty much gave up on me ... all except the youth pastor who sort of made it his personal mission to get me back into the fold. He'd call me and talk to me on the phone. Sometimes, he'd invite me over for dinner and a 'chat'. There were a couple of reasons that I didn't just tell him to shove it all up his ass. First, he really was sincere. I never got the impression that he was doing any of this because of show. Other members of the congregation turned up their noses at me the moment I became a stray lamb ... Pastor Stevens never did. He had that rare ability to be sickeningly enthusiastic about my salvation without making me feel like he was a hypocrite.

Before I quit the wrestling team, he came to every one of my matches. My own folks never came but Pastor Stevens was right there every match. I could hear his cheers above everyone else. Youth pastors are selected for their ability to relate to the youth and that usually means that they are somewhere in age between the youths and the youths' parents. Pastor Stevens was about fifteen years older than me and was married to a woman about ten years older than me.

That was the second reason I never told Pastor Stevens to shove it where the sun don't shine, his wife ... There's no other way to put this but, Pastor Stevens married an angel. Elizabeth Stevens was gorgeous and just as sweet and holy as her husband. A teenage boy can imagine all sorts of things but there was no way to imagine Pastor Stevens and his sweet wife engaging in sex as anything other than a ... how did he put it? ... oh yes! ... a 'holy obligation' and a 'sacrament ordained of God for procreation'.

At seventeen, I could whip up a batch of baby batter in five minutes flat with nothing more than my nasty imagination and my trusty right hand. However, whenever I tried to include Lizzie Stevens in my fantasy, all I got in my head was a sweet-looking woman in a modest dress serving up a platter of homemade cookies ... Bupkiss! Many was the time I felt that, if there were a God, he had to have a sick sense of humor because he put the disposition and character of a saint into the body and face of a porn star. "What a waste", I thought. "I bet they don't even get naked to have sex".

I graduated high school and left home. My grades were good enough to get me into college and give me enough of a scholarship that, with grants and loans, I was pretty much covered. My parents gave up on ever trying to save me and, while it was never said out loud, I got the message that they'd just as soon not have me home during the holidays to corrupt my younger siblings; kind of awkward since I went to college less than thirty miles from home but ... what the hell.

Chapter 2 ยป