Being born in a rural area with little excitement might have had a lot to do with my friends and I being entertained with things that others might find trivial and other things that might seem odd.

Swinging on an aged willow branch over a stagnant pool of water was one our favorites because we all hoped that the next one to give it a try would have the branch break and they would plummett face first into the stagnant water. That only happened one time when I was at the willow tree and the victim it claimed was me. It was embarrassing, but it also entertained the others and I liked that.

Another of our entertainments was hunting birds and rats with bb guns and pellett pistols.

But I suppose the most curious of our fascinations came when we ran across dogs who did “that crazy, funny thing” that male dogs do. We would see them at various times and sometimes they came around to where we were and they would almost always make some attempt to humpy-dance our legs.

We had no idea why they did that because we were completely clueless that the world of sex even existed. It wasn’t as if that world was invisibile to us; it was more that we had absolutely no awareness of it whatsoever. It might as well have been in a different universe. So when the dogs did their humpy thing, we just thought it was funny and weird and crazy and entertaining and amusing.

Usually, someone in our group would be daring enough to let one of them mount their leg and humpy-dance at least for awhile. That person was like a mini hero for being bold enough to volunteer so that all of us could laugh. We found it funny because the male dogs were so easy to dupe into such a thing. I can’t remember a single time when one of those humpy dogs didn’t mount a leg that was offered. We also were humored by the vigor and froth with which they did their thing and because their eyes became more and more hazy the longer they went.

I was particularly fascinated with it. I didn’t know why, but I always wanted to see it and I always encouraged someone in our group to offer their leg. If none did, I felt almost compelled to put my leg out there. But I seemed different from the others when I did it because while the others only did it for a brief time, I let the dog do it til he was through, which never took very long. At first that made me a hero for daring to go so long and also because I was the first to come away with “sticky leg”, an event that became a premier marvel and wonderment for us for days.

I enjoyed the recognition of my daring and how it seemed to set me apart from the others, but after a while, I began to hear comments that I was weird or strange because I did it more than all of the others put together. To them, I seemed less normal than before and I must admit, I seemed that way to myself as well. I couldn’t understand why I loved doing it so much. If no one was around, I would do it over and over again. I found it humorous because of how rabid the dogs seemed as they went at it and I found it amazing how eager they were to do it and I found it crazy how their eyes hazed over when they did it like they were in a distant world. And–over all–it just was endlessly amusing to me.

But, I didn’t want to be labelled a weirdo or thought of as a not-normal person. I wanted to keep my friends and fit in with them and have things go back to the way they were before. So, I stopped doing it when they were around. Instead, I waited until I was alone and then I went to one of the few haunts the dogs tended to inhabit. I usually found them across the culvert behind the turn-of-the-century boot store on Old Cannon Road. I would sneak around the building and slip through holes in the wire fence and go down into the culvert, up the other side, and into the wooded brush. It wasn’t the only place to find those humpy dogs, but it was the most common place.

The area was concealed enough that I could do what I wanted without the fear of being seen. I could do it as often as I wanted and as much as I wanted. I was free to just be amused and not have others judge me. I could indulge and over-indulge and not feel like an outcast.

I went there often, sometimes 4-5 times a week and I always came away so fascinated. Why did they do that humpy thing? Why were they so eager? Why did they do it like rabid animals? I had no idea what motivated them but in a small rural area with not much else to do, it had surely become my favorite thing.

It was common for me to have four dogs at once and some often did it more than one time. I recall a time when I had seven which I think was the most ever at one time. I was especially fascinated when I tried two at a time, one on each leg, and my head shook and my face smiled big with how crazy it all seemed. Two of them humping my legs like satanic whirling dervishes. After those seven, I left feeling a little guilty but not because of letting them hump my leg because that was just fun and games. Rather, guilt came when I estimated how many times I had done it with those seven dogs, because some went more than one time. The number I came up with was eleven! But, it might have been 14. I just don’t know for sure. Doing it that much in one session seemed excessive and I worried for myself and I felt guilty for that amount of excess.

I had hoped that after doing it hundreds of times, I would somehow discover why they liked it so much, but that didn’t happen. I just didn’t have a clue.

One thing I did notice was a growing sense of pride. It took me awhile to figure out why, but that pride came from the knowledge that I was giving them what they wanted so very much; something they weren’t getting from others, and that made me feel very good. Not only would the others not do it often, but they never did it long enough. They only did it for a half-minute or so before they laughed and then shook the dog from their leg.

But I was different. I was the dogs’ friend. I did it a lot and I never pulled away until they were done. It was like I was their special friend because I did what they liked and they knew they could do it with me and that just made me feel so good and special.

I suppose that it might have been that I lived in a backwards area or perhaps because I was a bit of a late bloomer that I had no awareness of sexual things. I had never heard anything about the subject. I’m not sure if the others knew or when they might have found out but I certainly knew nothing about it. The word “sex’ might just as well have seemed like a misspelling of the word “six” to me. So, the humpy-leg thing was just good time fun and games and amusement.

It did lead to other things though.

I was down by the creek with a boy who lived down the road. We weren’t the kind of friends who hung out together, but we knew each other and, with little else to do, we decided to walk along the creek and see if there was anything interesting. After some time, he brought up the humpy-leg dogs and asked why I stopped doing that. After some conversation, I admitted that I still did it but never with others around because I had been teased too much. He shrugged and seemed to accept it and not really think it was very important.

About a half-hour later, three of his friends were coming up the creek side toward us and we sat on logs and rocks and talked. They were a few years older and they talked a bit dirtier than I was accustomed so I didn’t say much. Then, one of them asked the same question as my friend had before–was I still letting dogs do the humpy-leg thing. I suppose since I am naturally quite passive and also because I had not spoken, my friend felt he needed to speak for me. He related very well to his friends what I had told him. Then, one of his friends said, “Hey, we got nothing else to do. Why don’t we go find some dogs and watch Brynn do his thing.”

The idea caught fire and I suppose because I am passive, I found myself being led behind McCurdy’s dilapidated barn by the three newcomers. My friend had left the group. I could not see any dogs but a few whistles and calls by the others brought one into sight and then another and then another. I was prodded and encouraged and they said they had never been critical of me in times before when I had done it in front of others and they flattered me by saying I was the best and they wanted to laugh and enjoy the weirdness of it. Their flattery got to me more than anything and I naively believed that they thought of me as some kind of star.

I don’t remember if any of the dogs did it more than one time but I do know that it took less than 10 minutes from start to finish. It never took very long. The boys hooted and encouraged and laughed and patted my back and made me feel like it was something special. I wasn’t fully convinced of their sincerity but their flattery kept me going for the full time.

Then, things changed.

The scruffiest of the three said that the goo on my leg proved I had made those dogs very happy. I asked why that goo had anything to do with it and he said, “Because they got off.” I asked what “got off” meant and he replied, “You know. Sex.”

I shrugged. “I don’t get it. What does ‘sex’ mean?”

“You don’t know about sex?”

I shook my head.

The three of them laughed.

“Then why do you do that with the dogs?”

“Because . . . I don’t know . . . it’s funny and it’s crazy and because they go after it so hard and so fast and they cling so tight and because they like doing it so much and no one else will let them do it like I will so I feel special.”

The scruffy one looked at me for a few seconds before speaking. “But, you have NO idea why males like doing it?”

I shook my head.

“You just do it because they like it.”

I nodded. “Yeah. But I don’t know why they like it.”

He looked at his friends and then back to me. “Well, we’re males too and … uhhh …. there’s something very much like that that we LOVE. Maybe you would feel good about helping us like you do those dogs. We would think you’re very special.”

His statement confused me but I responded, “You mean you doing humpy-leg?” I laughed. “Now that would be funny. I’ve never seen or heard of that before.” My laughter came from finding his statement very odd but also as an attempt to lighten a situation that seemed to have become a bit heavier.

“No. Not exactly.” He looked again at his friends. His hand lightly rubbed a bulge in the front of his jeans.

“I . . . I don’t get it then,” I replied.

He stepped forward and his hands went to my head and he pushed his bulge to the side of my face. “Like this. It’s almost the same; just a little bit different. You like making those dogs happy. Be even better for you if you know you’re making us happy, don’t you think? This would make us all very happy.”

I was stymied. Frozen. I had no idea how to react. I had never imagined doing anything of the kind with any one. I thought it only mattered to dogs. Yet, it wasn’t altogether off-setting. In fact, his flattery and eagerness and the fact that I could make him happy like the humpy-leg dogs made me realize that it might be a new window opening to do even more of what I had always loved to do, only I would do it with guys as well as dogs. I could at least try it, couldn’t I? If I didn’t like it or didn’t see it the way he did, then I just would stop and not do it again.

“Yeah, just like that,” he gruffed.

Another of the boys leaned down and spoke into my face. “Don’t worry, no one will know. Long as we’re getting what we like, we’re not going to tell no one. Hell no! No way! No one else is going to horn in on it. Only ones who will know is us and a couple other buddies.”

Then the sruffy one stopped. He held my face tight to his groin but he was no longer moving. “You know, them dogs don’t wear pants. It’s better without pants. They do it bare so I wana do it bare. Be better for you too. You’ll see.”

Almost instantly his warm cock was against my face and he was doing the humpy thing, not as fast and furious as the dogs but with the same kind of desire.

Honestly, there was nothing sexual in it whatsoever for me. To me, it was an extension of letting dogs enjoy my leg except it was guys enjoying the side of my face. It was fun and games and being popular and appreciated and liked by them and flatterd by them.

I let all three of them do it that day and I felt so proud and warmed. When they were done, my face and hair were quite sticky. But they said they loved seeing me like that and they flattered me some more and I continued to feel as warmed and favored as I had with the humpy-leg dogs. Two days later, I let those three plus one other of their friends do it and from there, it became a rather regular thing with the original three and sometimes their other two friends. They loved doing it a lot and I must say that was a big part of why I loved it and let them do it. Since no one else knew about it, I felt free to enjoy it often.

After several days, they showed me something new. They showed pictures of a boy letting it be done in his mouth and other pictures of him swallowing that sticky stuff. The three scruffers told me that was something that would make me a superstar if I would let them do that. They argued that it was no different than dogs on my leg; it was still just males doing the humpy-thing; just that it was a little different. And they said they would really like me if I did it and that I should at least try. Their eagerness and flattery and near-pleading was stronger than my passive and compliant nature and I agreed to do it. Their craving for it made me eager to do it well and in no time, I found that I was very good at it.

In another few days, they said that I would be a mega-superstar if I could take it all the way down like other pictures in their porn magazine and they pleaded with me to try. Once again, their eagerness and acclaim motivated me to try it and I followed their directions on relaxing my throat and “just let it happen”. In less than five minutes, his cock was all of the way down in my throat and their complimentary statements of how great I had been in learning to do it filled me with gladness. After just a few times, I became able to do it without choking or gagging and they were full of flattery. And, the eagerness of their movements convinced me that they really liked doing it. Whatever apprehensions I might have had in the beginning were relieved when they explained again that it was the same thing as humpy-leg, just in a little different form.

A week later, they began a new routine. Instead of me being upright, they had me lay flat on my back with them taking turns getting on top of me and doing the humpy thing all the way in my mouth. They explained that the new position was almost identical to those male dogs who mounted female dogs in the fields and did that other kind of humpy fun and games I had never thought about that before but it seemed to be right enough. I had always laughed with amusement at those males mounting the females. I had no idea what they were doing, but I found it funny and fun to watch. So now, I could participate in a different kind of humpy-thing and those scruffers really wanted me to do it and they talked me up so much that I became eager. I found it as fun and funny and amusing as everything before.

Fun and games— just a different form of the same thing. And, I felt special for doing something special that others wouldn’t do. The fact that it was easy to get me to do it often and for long periods made me popular which I really liked.

When our family split up, I had logged nine months of doing the humpy-leg thing with those dogs. I had been quite prolific. I would say that in those nine months, I did it at an average of four times a week and almost always four times per session. That meant I did it about 16 times a week or about 65 times a month. Therefore, in those nine months, I did it at least 585 times!

At the same time, I had haen doing the humpy-mouth thing with those boys for seven months. I would say they did it to me at least nine times a week or about 40 times a month. So in that seven month period, they did humpy-mouth over 280 times.

Adding those things together right now, I am astonished by the numbers! I had no idea! 585 plus 280 means I did those things over 865 times– in just nine months! Wow! Right now, I don’t know whether to feel proud or embarrassed.

It is with great relief that I can report that no one ever knew about my private times sneaking away for the humpy-leg dogs and the humpy-mouth boys. The boys never told anyone–or at least I never heard anyone say they knew about it. There was not one minute nor one thought that ever entered my mind about any of it being sexual because at no time was i told about sex. Instead, it was all just fun and games and funny and amusing and flattering. That’s all it was to me. Fun and games. Watch the crazy males do their weird thing and be endlessly amused.

——–

My time in the rural backwoods ended when my parents divorced and moved to separate cities. I was disillusioned by both of them and didn’t want to live with either of them. Instead, I lived with an aunt who really didn’t care about my coming or going as long as she got enough support money to keep her liquor and smokes in stock. I came and went pretty much as I pleased.

She lived in Pinewood, a small old town with shady streets and small old homes. There was a convenience store down the block and a park with swings, but I didn’t know anyone and wasn’t sure I cared to. Besides, I would make friends at school when the school term started in a couple of months.

But, I had a problem. And, I think you can guess what that problem was.

There was no way I could expect to get into any humpy-leg or humpy-mouth scene in a town where I knew absolutely no one and leash laws kept dogs from randomly wandering the streets. It was a weighty problem because I had enjoyed so very much those great times that had entertained me so much. Were they gone forever?

On my way to the convenience store one afternoon, I passed an older man who was watering a flowerbed with a hose. He nodded, then tilted his head as if to call me over to talk. He said his name was Chuck. He was easy to talk to. He asked many questions.. The second time I was at his place, we were inside his small home and sipping lemonade and he was asking questions and then —- then, it all came spilling out of me— not the lemonade, but rather the stories of the humpy things back in the rural land. He nodded and seemed understanding and then admitted he was “one of those”. When I asked what he meant by “one of those” he replied the humpy-mouth kind.

I spent the night.

It was completely exhilarating. I loved it all. He was as rabid as any before him and I was amused more than ever. Fun and games with him were very fulfilling. He was so avid and eager and pratically frothing. It was funny and amusing and flattering. By 4pm the next day, we had done it many, many times. After that day, I spent a lot of time at his place. He was always wanting to do it and I found that so fascinating and I had a great sense of warmth knowing that just as I had pleased those humpy-leg dogs and those humpy-mouth boys back in the rural land and they had favored me so much, I was now doing the same for this older man. I felt special just like I had with the dogs and the boys back in rural land.

Like all of the times before, I had no concept of any part of it being sexual because I still had no awareness that a sexual world existed. Chuck only spoke of our times in the “humpy” terms that I understood and he called our times “fun and games” and I continued to be so very fascinated with why males liked doing that. I was so amused and glad that I had met him.

Of course, there is much more to my experiences with Chuck and others but this story can only go for so long before it must end. Perhaps I can tell more in another writing, that is, if you like hearing of such strange things. If so, please leave me a message here or at brynnboi a t juno dotcom

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