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Ron’s Journal 04

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Author’s note: My uncle Ron died recently. While sifting through his files, I found journal folders marked MY STORY, writings about his life. I have edited these accounts and will post them when I can. These stories include bisexuality, incest, interracial and mature and group sex, etc. All sexual activity depicted here involves persons at least 18 years old.

I highly recommend that you read all previous chapters before starting on this piece.


7: California: Irresponsible Life

My pregnant new wife MariLyn and I hitchhiked from N.Y.C. back to California that autumn, first to the Los Angeles area to see our families, then to San Francisco.

We got a tiny apartment in the Haight-Ashbury. We got on AFDC welfare. I went to adult high school, and graduated, and attended college to learn broadcast electronics; our daughter was born; I got round wire-rim glasses, and a vasectomy; all paid for by welfare.

When welfare expired after 18 months, I could not find work other than more day labor. Those 1st and 2nd Class FCC broadcast licenses were not worth much here.

We moved to a cheap room in the Fillmore slum. Junkies everywhere. Schizophrenic fellow tenants. We were not much better, staying drunk and stoned much of the time.

MariLyn and I found we were shitty parents and lousy lovers together. I only used her as a sex toy suitable for fast pounding. We finally decided to do the only responsible thing: we put our under-two-year-old daughter up for adoption. I would not see our daughter again for almost 30 years.

MariLyn and I informally separated and re-engaged. She shacked up with various of our doper/wino friends, and sometimes with me again. Then we thought to start over in the early 1970s. We relocated to Hollyweird.


The vibes of Los Angeles and San Francisco are rather different. S.F. is energetic while L.A. is totally manic. And Hollyweird is quite over the edge.

MariLyn and I were given an apartment by a black banker who liked to watch us fuck each other. MariLyn got a job doing phone sex. We were given an 8-foot-long Columbian Rosy Boa, Noah The Boa.

I made money as a mime, working on the corner of Hollyweird and Vine. Not a Marcel Marceau type mime in black and white with cropped hair, no, not me. I was 6’5″ tall, shirtless, in short cutoff jeans and sandals, face clean-shaved, long black hair flowing, with Noah The Boa wrapped around my neck.

And I wasn’t the strangest sight on the street, not by far.

(FLASH FORWARD: 25 years later, I was in a supermarket in Sacramento. Walking through the produce aisles, I saw a group of younger people. One was a skinny guy about my height, long black hair, shirtless, short cutoffs, with a big Columbian Rosy Boa wrapped around his neck. I felt like I had been reincarnated.)


Street performance is fun.

I had regulars. Almost every day I was there, a car would pull up to the corner, the darkened window would roll down, and an arm tossed a 50-cent coin into my basket. The car was a new Hemi-Cuda with high spoilers, painted metalflake lime, and on the door was a name in gold script: Lawrence Welk.

A black guy a half-foot taller than me, wearing a leopard-skin wrap, a crown, barbed-wire sandals, huge sunglasses, and carrying a big Tiki stick, always dropped me a quarter. Some crowds of young school kids always threw in a nickel each. I depended on the regulars.

I had imitators, including a short Chinese girl who mimed my miming while wearing an almost transparent leotard. And she was GOOD. But she never got closer than 6 feet to me.

I had groupies. One cute little chick ran up to me, soul-kissed me, pulled my hand down to crotch level to feel… his package. Hmmm, I was not really into transvestites then.

A tired-looking Latina in her 50s kept asking me to fuck her. One day she took me to a nearby hotel room. We undressed. We tried foreplay, fingers, oral, spit. She was DRY! She stayed dry. I needed half a jar of Vaseline to gain entry, and her arid cunt scraped like hell on my poor cock. We couldn’t cum. I think of her as Sandpaper Sal.

Other groupies were much better, some even for intermittent long-term relationships. Sharona and Yoko were short-termers; Mir and Keri were in my life for years.

SHARONA was a gorgeous tall big-titted blue-eyed blonde who loved to rub my muscles while I mimed, trying to distract me. She looked a bit too sluttish to attain starlet status. She cursed when she came.

Sharona had the most cavernous pussy I have ever experienced! I am a big guy, with big hands. I could fist Sharona’s pussy with no trouble, and even double-fist her with a bit of squeezing — after some serious slobbering cunnilingus, of course. And when she came, she flooded.

I felt almost like I could stick my head into her pussy and crawl straight into her womb. Is that your dream, guys? We were hot together for some weeks; then she disappeared.

YOKO was a small Nisei girl who lived with her partner Robert, upstairs from us in Escort bayan the Yucca Flats apartment building. Yoko was a toe freak. She squatted and played with my toes when I was in a frozen mime position on the street. Yet another distraction, hey?

At home, she plopped Robert and me onto her bed and sucked our freshly-washed toes. We sucked her toes, me on one foot, Robert on the other, and switched. Then we double-ended her, and switched, before going back to toes. Whomever had their cock in her cunt had to play with her toes. Whomever had their cock in her mouth had their own toes fondled. Whomever didn’t fondle her toes adequately got slapped, hard.

I joined them for playtime sporadically over a few months. Yoko sent me postcards years later, covered with her beautiful pen-and-ink art, the same designs she painstakingly painted on her toenails.

KERI was a thin English girl, mid-20s, medium-height, long dark brown hair, perky nose, strong chin and cheekbones, tiny breasts with small aureoles and long dark nipples. She always wore a dark plaid flannel long-sleeve shirt and long black corduroy pants, with nothing underneath either.

Keri teased me on the street for weeks before dragging me to her bed.

Keri was acerbic and snide, and she WANTED me. I lived in her apartment off-and-on for a few months. She teased me about reading CONAN THE BARBARIAN comics (especially the classic Barry Smith issues) saying those were for faggots. That usually led to me bending her over a chair and pounding her pussy raw while she screamed “Crom! Crom! Crom!”.

Keri and I hitchhiked together, sometimes to San Francisco or San Diego. She liked to fuck in public, usually on beaches or in parks, 69ing awhile first, then mounting me cowgirl-style and riding me into nervous exhaustion.

Keri wanted to marry me, but I was still married to MariLyn then. Keri didn’t much like that.

Later, after I joined the Army, I learned Keri had also joined, and also as an electronics technician. She kept track of my locations. Our assignments sometimes found us at the same bases briefly, and we always spent our off-duty time together, fucking incessantly.

I never heard from her after 1976. I heard a rumor that she maybe died from a congenital heart defect, but I do not know if the rumor was true. I miss her.


And then there was Mir, a tall dark Russian Jewish girl with strong features and ample breasts topped with large chocolate aureoles and fat thick red nipples.

Mir was a senior at Hollywood High. She would bring groups of her classmates along to watch me perform. I was always good for a few laughs.

One day Mir laughingly asked me if my cock was under as much control as the rest of my body. “Shalom!” I said, “Come with me and find out.”

We walked the two blocks to my Yucca Flats apartment, me miming her pacing, still mirroring her as we climbed the stairs and reached my door.

“That’s enough of that,” she said, and pushed me into the room.

Then she said nervously, “I’m not on the pill.”

“I’ve had a vasectomy,” I said, and she brightened, and then asked, “But how can I believe you?”

“Just feel my scrotum. You can feel where the vas deferens was cut, feel the scars at the cut ends of the tube.”

We undressed rather quickly. It was a hot, sweaty day. I wanted us to be clean. We took a quick shower, and she squeezed my balls.

“Where?” she asked.

“Not yet,” I said, and toweled us off.

I stretched on the bed and placed her fingers above my balls, making her pinch my scrotum slightly, as she traced the severed tubes.

“Oh yes, there’s the cut,” she said. She looked into my eyes. “OK, fuck me now.”

I was happy to comply, but I said, “First, we need a bit of lubrication.”

I licked her. She licked me. We both licked, mutually, la la la. This sounds like a jingle.

Wet or dry, Mir’s pussy lips were always puffy. When wet, she blossomed like a rose. I loved licking those fat, juicy lips, and the territory around them.

Mir’s dark bush wasn’t as rough as a Brillo pad, not quite. Her clit was like a small fingertip, very fun to play with, very sensitive, and it wiggled when she got excited. Her hole was deep and tight.

Mir’s pussy was simply a joy to taste and touch and tantalize.

But we didn’t go slow and romantic, not this first time. She wanted a fucking and that is exactly what she got. Wham, bam, slam, jam it in, whip it out, make like a jackhammer, until she cried out her pleasure, her eyeballs rolling back in their sockets; and her strong cunt muscles squeezed my cum out of me.

No dangerous little wigglies in those shots of seminal fluid, nope, only pure unadulterated joy juice. As hoped, my vasectomy would help make me a popular man.

Mir lay back and almost hyperventilated as I spooned her and fondled her magnificent breasts covered with tiny brown freckles. She seemed to enjoy the experience. I sure did! But then she started moving.

“Ron, what time is it? I have to get home. My parents Bayan escort are expecting me.”

Mir lived over towards Griffith Park. She could *just* catch the next city bus in that direction, without getting home late. We dressed, kissed, kissed some more, walked down the hall, down the stairs, down to the corner bus stop.

“Ron, I really liked that. I want to see you again. Soon. Very soon.”

Mir kissed me again.

“Anytime, Mir. I’ll be here for you.”

We had a few more hot after-school sessions. We tried to make more time. Once, we only had time to duck into a coffee-shop’s restroom for a fast standup fuck. We usually were not so rushed, nor so desperate.


A couple weeks later I stood at my corner talking with my friend Don. Don had deserted from the Canadian Special Forces. He talked about their winter pre-graduation exercise, being dropped naked in the Northern Rockies with a dull knife and given a week to survive and reach civilization.

Later Don dropped LSD, became enlightened, and snuck across the border to the USA, never to return.

Don did not look like the equivalent of Green Beret material. He was scrawny, with a short lion’s-mane beard and hair, and a perpetually surprised expression.

Mir and another girl approached us as we stood there. The girl was a little shorter than Mir, not quite up to my shoulders, a taut-looking dirty blonde with sufficient breasts and hips visible under her tight pullover and skirt.

“Ron, this is my best friend, Lori. We want you to fuck us.”

Don’s ‘surprised’ expression moved on towards ‘astonished’.

“Hmmm, is Don invited too?” I asked.

“Errr, I gotta be going,” Don said with his head and torso shaking.

I could hear his mental gears grinding.

The apartment could be raided by cops. He could be caught having group sex with high-school girls. He could be fingerprinted, identified as a deserter, sent back to Canada for a long stretch in prison. Don strenuously avoided all potentially illegal activities. He did not even jaywalk.

(I had recently spent a day in jail for jaywalking in L.A.. They locked me up after breakfast, gave me a dry sandwich for lunch, and threw me out before dinner, to keep costs down.)

This was too high-risk for Don. He sidled away nervously and disappeared around the corner.

“Mir, what’s up?” I asked.

“I want to see my best friend being fucked by my lover. Especially my lover who is an older man, a married man. I want to see how she feels you.”

Older man? Well, they were 18 then, and I was all of 22. Was I old enough to seem mature?

“Wait up a minute. It’s time for Larry Welk again.”

Sure enough, I saw that very bright lime-colored muscle car approaching. I struck my pose; the window lowered, the arm tossed the coin. And then we all took off.


We went into the apartment. Lori sat on the edge of the king-size bed and looked at me.

“Mir, you’ll have to help me here. We all need to shower the smog off us.”

Lori and Mir undressed each other while I slipped out of my shorts. (No snake now — I’d had to donate Noah to a zoo when local pet cats started disappearing.)

We showered, washing carefully and solemnly, and toweled each other off. I led them back to the bed and had us all sit cross-legged, knee to knee, as with Linda and Dale back in N.Y.C., but without the pot and the full-lotus posture. Mir on my right, Lori on my left.

We drank from a chilled bottle of cheap Italian white wine, one buck from the local deli. I filled my mouth, formed my tongue into a nozzle, put my lips onto Mir’s, squirted it into Mir’s mouth, then the same for Lori.

I passed the bottle to Mir and said, “Your turn.”

Mir paused, considered, decided. She gave a squirt to me, and then to Lori, both slowly.

Mir passed the bottle to Lori and said, “Your turn.”

Lori looked into our faces and quickly took a drink. She squirted into me, then held her mouth on mine for a minute, pushing her tongue in, tasting me. She did the same to Mir.

I reached down and rubbed Mir’s dark pussy, then Lori’s lighter bush, then my cock. I saw some pre-cum glistening atop my hard little head. The girls shivered slightly. I reached a finger into Mir’s pussy, pulled it out, put it in my mouth, tasted it. And then the same for Lori.

“Mmmm, you both taste so good. Your turns.”

I looked at them both. They looked at each other, then at me. Lori reached to my cock, scooped off some of the pre-cum, tasted it, smiled. Then she reached into Mir’s pussy for a fingerful of her flavorful juice. She tasted it and smiled again.”

“You taste a little salty but good, Mir. Your turn.”

Mir slowly repeated the action, probing, tasting, then relaxing a little, murmuring “Oh my.”

I leaned over, slowly kissed Mir’s left breast, then her right breast, then back to the left. I pulled back a little.

“Lori, help me here,” I said as I resumed kissing Mir’s left breast.

On cue, Lori leaned in and took Escort Mir’s right breast into her mouth. She suckled briefly, then ran her tongue around the nipple, then sat back upright, her dirty blonde hair hanging to her tits.

I turned to Lori, leaned in to her right breast, then her left breast, then the right breast again. I looked at Mir and raised an eyebrow. Mir quickly moved to Lori’s left breast and suckled and licked for half a minute, then sat back up.

“Mir, lie down, I have a treat for you,” I said as I straightened my legs.

Mir lay back, stretching her legs on either side of me. I crawled up her body, kissed her mouth, then down to her breasts, then between her hips, then her bush. I put my mouth in front of Mir’s pussy. I reached up my right hand to cup her left breast, softly kneading it.

“Lori, I need your help again,” I said.

Lori straightened out, then curled up at Mir’s right side and started suckling. I worked my tongue onto and into Mir’s pussy and kneaded her left breast, twirling the nipple, thumbing around her aureole. I licked and slurped harder, faster, tonguing her clit. Lori sucked harder. Mir shook and moaned.

“Lori, turn around so Mir can suck your tits while you suck hers.”

Lori moved behind Mir’s head, bent over her, and they fed their tits to each other. I put both my hands on Mir’s inner thighs and rubbed her soft skin, then slowly put two fingers deep into her hole.

Mir was bucking now. The girls slurped and kneaded each other’s tits, changing sides, both moaning. Lori pressed her tit down hard into Mir’s mouth. I licked and fingered faster, sucked her clit even harder.

Mir came hard, excruciatingly hard and wet, and screamed as if prodded with hot pitchforks. Her screams were thoroughly muffled by Lori’s breast in her mouth. Mir screamed again and again but only loud moans emerged from that soundproofing.

I kissed Mir’s pussy gently to bring her down, then climbed up to kiss her flushed face with my wet face, then turning to kiss Lori with my faceful of Mir’s juice. I pulled back and looked into Lori’s eyes.

“Your turn, Lori,” I said.

Lori fell back onto the bed with her legs spread. She pulled my head down between her legs, then pulled Mir’s head to her for a deep kiss.

“Mir, move back behind me,” Lori whispered.

Mir knelt behind Lori and they shared tits as I inhaled and adored Lori’s smaller paler pussy. Her bush was thin, soft, like glowing short angel hair. I applied all my oral tricks. Lori was soon yelling silently into Mir’s breast. I softly kissed her pussy to cool her down.

“And now, Mir, here is what you want to see, what you asked for. Watch closely.”

I moved up on Lori’s body and placed the head of my well-stiffened cock at the opening of her vulva. I slowly pushed it in just slightly, then pulled it out, then back in a little deeper, then out again, and then all the way in and out.

I repeated these long slow strokes maybe a dozen times. Mir stared as my glistening thick rod slowly pistoned in and out of her best friend’s cunt.

“Do you want to watch the cum flow?” I asked Mir.

Mir nodded shakily, “Uh yes, please, please.”

“There’s something you can do to help. Sit on Lori’s face.”

Mir look startled, then looked at her friend.

“Oh yes yes yes, come here Mir, I want you!”

Mir straddled Lori’s head, facing me, leaning forward a bit, her great breasts hanging down and swinging gently, then straightened up and looked me in the eye. I leaned to Mir, kissed her mouth, fondled her breasts.

“This is what you were waiting for, Mir.”

Mir gasped as Lori’s tongue ravished her pussy. I resumed pistoning Lori’s cunt, faster, harder, my hands on Mir’s breasts as we kissed, Mir’s hands on Lori’s breasts, Lori’s hands moving up my sides and brushing my nipples.

I pounded faster into Lori, and faster yet, and then the chain reaction started.

Lori thrashed and came, her screaming muffled by Mir’s pussy. Mir came wetly, screaming into my mouth sealed over hers. And my lifeless cum squirted into Lori’s cunt, shot after shot after shot, an accumulation of many horny hours unleashed for almost a minute.

I pulled my face back from Mir’s, told Mir to look down as I slowly pistoned, long strokes revealing an almost bubbly wetness.

“Oh wow,” Mir breathed, “that’s amazing.”

“Mmmmph mmmph mmmph,” Lori said, trying to unseat Mir from her mouth.

Mir rolled aside and Lori gasped, “Holy fuck!”

I kissed Lori’s wet face. I grabbed a towel. We wiped our faces and crotches, and snuggled.

“Was this the interaction between your lover and your friend you wanted to see, Mir?”

Mir rolled her eyes and said, “Holy shit Ron, just what have you done to us?”

“I think the phrase is, ‘Thoroughly fucked.’ Do you want my cock now too, Mir?”

Mir shuddered, “I think I’ll wait till tomorrow. I need some time to digest this. It’s time to go home now anyway. Wow, this has been more than I expected.”

We showered again, and dressed, and headed back out into the real world.

The girls went their way. As I walked down Yucca Street, Keri saw me and grabbed me and dragged me to her apartment and pounded me. When she finally released me, it was evening.

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