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When did you know you were a bottom?


divorcedbottom

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When I was a teen jerking off progressed to playing with my ass. So I was aware of the pleasure that can be had from stimulating my hole yet I never explored it further. When I was 23 or so and worked for an electrical company I went to a service call at the apartment of an older man. He was very dominant and I ended up sucking his cock. When I returned for more he told me to lay on my stomach then he rimmed me until I came without touching my cock. I couldn't believe the intensity and after I began to breathe normal again he started teasing my hole with his cock. I remember lifting my ass and pushing back. The feeling was incredible. He fucked me slow yet firmly until he came inside me. I went back as often as I could for a little over a year. From that day on it was all I wanted.

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  • 1 month later...

Well, I am natural born this way. I remember very well, to feel different. I knew to be gay since puberty. And I think, I was an early starter. At the age of 13 I began to cruise at public restrooms and in parks. And as fresh meat I had quick success. My first man was an guy in his 30´s. I met him at central station and went home with him.

When we got naked, I was on my knees immediately to suck him. It was a natural instinct in me. He couldn´t believe, that this was my first time having sex with a man. Later I offered him my whole to fuck me, even if I was totally unexperienced with that. But I knew, I wanted, I needed it. It hurted like hell at the beginning, but soon I enjoyed it. I felt to have found my place.

Later in my life I tried to top a few times, if a guy was more bottom than me. But it didn´t work fine. I was a lousy top. I learned to follow my instincts and be a true bottom.

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  • 7 months later...

From when I first really started having sexual urges age 13. I still have old notepads that have fantasies I wrote down and all of them were about receiving cock in my mouth and my ass. I've always been effeminate and feel like the woman in regards to sex. Haven't done cross dressing during sex (yet) but I would if a guy desired. I do regularly wear panties and I have a woman's ass (It sticks out so much that I was always so conscious of being seen naked in the showers at school).

Topping is unnatural to me. My only desire is for MEN to fuck me.

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  • 3 years later...

I was forced into it at an early age, before I even knew what it all meant.  It did not take me long to realize that it is my purpose.  Being a sub bottom used by Alpha tops for their needs.  I've known it practically all my life.

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Guest SEPaBBGuy

I wasn't a bottom at first - then came to like it...still switch. But it is fun to give myself to a total top.

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I’ve been sexually active since I was 8. First bottomed at my 9th birthday to a middle aged man servant. That’s when I knew I was a receptacle for dirty hairy Daddy cum. I knew I wanted to get pregnant with a real man’s seed. In my fantasy a super alpha out there will actually impregnate me someday. 

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57 minutes ago, hornybrownbottom said:

I’ve been sexually active since I was 8. First bottomed at my 9th birthday to a middle aged man servant. That’s when I knew I was a receptacle for dirty hairy Daddy cum. I knew I wanted to get pregnant with a real man’s seed. In my fantasy a super alpha out there will actually impregnate me someday. 

Happy to meet another MPREG brother. 

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The first time I had sex with another man, he Topped me. It felt absolutely right, and completely natural for me. All my experience, and my training, since then has just reinforced this core truth about me - one of the purposes for which I was born is to take cock in my ass.

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For me, this isn't a simple question to answer.

TL;DR: It takes time, effort, and luck to get back to who and what you were always meant to be. A thirsty-cunted bottom.

 

I was a sweet, sensitive, and cute little boy.  I can remember having strong feelings for boys in my class at primary school (the blond sports loving rough-houser, the beautiful Italian musician, etc.). Looking back I can see they were crushes and pretty natural ones. I didn't have any similar feelings about girls in my class. Shit happened and my brothers and I ended up in a procession of Catholic children's homes. In the final one, a Catholic boy's home, I spent 4 of my 6 high school years. For reasons too involved to go into, I really, really hated it. It was like "Lord of the Flies".

In my second year there, the dormitory master for that year, a religious brother who ran the Army Cadet Corps (think ROTC) for an adjacent school, put me right across from his room. He gave me some of the affection I'd been so starved of, but some of it made me feel strange. After we'd been sent to bed and the dorm masters had their evening meal together, with alcohol, he'd return to the dorm and come quietly into the room I shared with another boy. Then he'd kiss me on the lips saying "Good night" and leaving the smell of alcohol on my lips and in the air around me. He'd have me in his room and hold me immobile on his lap, his very strong arms wrapped tightly around me as he tried to kiss me as I squirmed over his cock and balls. These things made me feel strange because he was acting as a parent to me and many other boys. I was 13 and very small for my age compared to all the other boys in my dormitory. Puberty had not set in yet, so I wasn't aware of my own sexuality or anyone else's.

During the summer of that year, the dorm master needed to make a trip along the coast to pick-up or drop-off something for the boy's home. Unlike many other boys at this home, we didn't get to go home and have time with our family very often. When the dorm master proposed taking me on this overnight journey on a weekend, it would get me away from a place I thought of as my prison. He got my mother's consent and off we went. I don't remember much about the trip apart from being in the car and feeling the warm sun and wind against my skin and hair. I remember the motel we stopped at to stay overnight dimly. It was like a hundred other coastal motels in other country towns, strange atomic age design and signage, and a fancy restaurant as an anchor to bring in both the locals and out-of-towners to spend their cash.

We ate dinner in what seemed like a fancy restaurant. I remember a lot of glasses on the table and it seeming very fine. We ate and I have a vague memory of him giving me something to drink, or a taste of his drink. When we went up to the room after dinner, I remember being excited to be away. The room had a double bed and a single bed and, for some reason, I was bouncing around laying claim to the double bed. Looking back, that was very unusual behavior for me. We started to get ready for bed and I remember getting undressed next to the big bed and finding him next to me stripped down to his underwear. I was feeling odd by this time, and having the wiry, muscular and hairy adult so close to me with an enormous erection stretching his briefs made me feel even stranger. The last thing I remember clearly is being put on my back on the bed and him climbing over me, his adult sized hard-on hot and firm under his briefs as it brushed my skin.

The first memory I have after that night is the next morning, standing under the hot shower and feeling both a kind of heavy dullness in my head and a powerful throbbing soreness in my bottom. I've thought a lot about why I don't remember what happened in any more detail. Whether, as I strongly suspect, he drugged me, or whether my unconscious mind kept the memories locked away to protect me, I can't say for sure. That made it tough to say with much certainty what had happened to me. Many years later after lots of work with therapists I came out to my mother. As soon as I told her she asked me, "When you went away with Brother X while you were at the boy's home, were you sexually abused?" I was startled, but said "Yes, but why do you ask?"  It seems she had found blood-stained underwear in my travel bag when I came back from the trip. She had seen the proof of what happened to me, never told me, and done nothing about it. She only mentioned it then to say "Post hoc ergo propter hoc" to absolve her of any possible blame for my gayness.

That was the moment I knew without any shred of doubt that I'd been raped until I bled. I'd always carried the trauma of my rape in my body, whether I remembered what had happened to me or not. The prospect of having sex with a man filled me with a kind of terror that was not hard-on inducing. At the same time I was a horny young man who needed something. I had no idea what I wanted. I muddled through my first boyfriend, who made me cum by fingering my prostate and sucking my cock at the same time, and my second boyfriend, who desperately wanted to fuck me but I could not relax and get into the idea. In fact, one night as we were lying in bed together after he'd been asking me for it, I had a full on panic attack. What had happened to me as a boy made sex as an adult feel incredibly dangerous, physically damaging, and mentally and emotionally traumatic. I had even tried getting fucked when I was drunk enough to avoid the terror, but then I couldn't enjoy it or even feel it. Not a good long term plan.

Lots more therapy and personal effort got me over the sex hump through a workaround. When I met a guy we did other things and occasionally I topped. As years went by it just started to feel more wrong to me and my desire to fuck or have any sex at all left me. In the last few years I've been dogged in working to find and understand my kinks, acknowledge their likely sources (including my rape), and explore and accept them as a natural part of me. I also recognized a strong vein of submissive thoughts and feelings in me, and how much I really wanted to surrender myself and be fucked.

Starting a few months ago, I've sought out men to fuck me, and dominant men to explore my submission.  For those of you have been reading my "Last Loads" posts, this won't be a surprise. My past mental image of myself was of a dud fuck who was too traumatized to take a finger in his hole, let alone a cock of even average size. Being penetrated used to connect back to the feelings of being raped. What I've learned in the last three months is that I really, really enjoy having my ass fucked, and that I really prefer being fucked bare and bred. Thanks  to: 1) to a visiting Brazilian bear who had no english but did have a dominant streak and fucked me breathless over a chair, 2) a traveling man who I had an incredible connection with and whose passion and intensity made him fucking me so easy that I had the beginnings of my first ass-gasm, 3) a granddad who treated me like a boy when I needed it and fucked me until I was relaxed and open and encouraging him to go harder, 4) an Hispanic bear who fucked me so well and with such finesse in so many positions that's I'm eagerly looking forward to a repeat, and finally 5) to a very calm and dominant black man who fucked me and bred me 9 times in two and a half hours and showed me that I'm built for, and need, the big cocks in my cunt too.

When did I know I was a bottom? I suspect I always was as a boy, before someone distorted and stole part of my life. When I think back to how I felt about those boys I had crushes on, it connects so strongly to wanting their cocks inside me and fucking their seed into me. But I only knew I was a bottom the first time a man's cock was inside me and making me cum through my ass for the first time. That was about three months ago.

Edited by blackrobe
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  • 2 weeks later...

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