Thursday, November 10, 2011

A Moment in the Dark

Near home--March, 2011

I was horned. No one was on online near me. For once, I couldn’t take the time to drive very far away. So I’d settled on cruising the porn theatre. This is the one I’ve mentioned where you buy a combo pass for a big screen straight theatre and a smaller gay lounge with sofas (where I’d fucked the boy in “The Request”). A third room is also an option, though it’s hard to use, as it feels like three booths with no doors, but not really enough room for two people in any of them. I paid my admission and hoped for a selection of men…



 My eyes adjust pretty fast to my dim surroundings. The big theatre is as empty as the other two spaces. No, there is someone sitting in the back row. I go up the two steps to get to him. He’s tucked into the farthest corner. I can see his pants are open, but he’s stopped stroking with my entrance. I still can’t make out much about him. I sit down, with two seats between us. On screen, two men are using every available hole on a tiny Asian woman. I open my camouflage pants. My jock is only slightly swollen as my cock has had no stimulation. This signals the other man to return to stroking. I still can’t make out facial features or much about him.

I just watch the screen. One man is being the anchor in her pussy and the other man is slowly working his monster cock into her ass. He stops occasionally, to pull it out, bring it up to her mouth and have her get it dripping with saliva. My cock stands up. I glance over at the guy a few seats away. That seems to really be working for him as well. I can see his dick now. It’s impressive. I can also see he is closer to my Dad’s age than mine. He has a mostly bald head, with a fringe of grey that is distinguished. He is trim. His clothes, including a cardigan, are neat. His cock is hard and dripping.

And he looks sideways at mine. I show off. Stroking long strokes. Pausing for a moment at the base to show off the full length without my hand covering it. I spit into my palm and just play with the head. But he’s staring back at the screen.

We sit.

And stroke.

Stolen glances.

He is obviously not going to suck my cock. And this was not what I came for. I almost get up to go. But I stop myself. Why not? I turn to him. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the screen and see her ass get cream pied. He likes the unusual cumshot for a straight movie too, and jerks vigorously. As the new scene starts he becomes aware of my looking at him. He turns to me.

“Um,” my voice sounds lighter than usual, suddenly youthful. “You want some help with that?” My stroking hand stops and gestures towards his cock.

His answer is to undo the waistband of the corduroys and pull them, and his regulation white shorts, down past his knees. I go over, kneel, and carefully take his cock away from his stoking hand. I feel like a kid with his first cock. I look at it. Then up at his worn face. My mouth covers his moist cock head. The tasty of his cum is strong. Salty, but good. My tongue covers his cock head in a million little twists. He moans. I slide down his length. He’s giving me free rein. No hands telling me where I should be.

My cock is forgotten now, but it never goes down. I am doing every trick I know to please this man. His breath has become ragged. But I don’t think he’s close. I finally pull off his cock and lick his balls. One. The other. Both in my mouth. His sigh fills the theatre. I work my way up his shaft and sink down on his shaft again. Out of nowhere, his soft, soft hands touch my shaved head. A finger traces a path to my right ear. He reaches down and finds my right hand on his balls. He pulls it slightly away and to his side. He simply holds it, delicately lacing our fingers together. His left hand is now kneading my shoulder. Lightly, but giving more pleasure than he likely knows.

“May I cum in your mouth?” His voice is soft, but the unexpected words all but reverberate in the big, dark room. I don’t answer. I just show how much I want this man’s seed. This man I almost passed up for superficial reasons.

He shoots. All but noiselessly. I swallow. I clean his cock. I keep his cock in my mouth. I don’t know how long we stay linked together.

Finally, he speaks again. “You’re the first man to touch me in almost two years.”

I look up at him.

I don’t know what to say.

So neither of us say anything. He stands, pulls himself together. And exits. I’m still on the floor. I slowly realize I shot right with him. His taste is still strong on my tongue. I wipe a long drip off my cock and bring it up to my mouth, mixing my sweet cum with his salty spray.

I need to move.

But I stay an extra minute--wondering if in 25 years there will be a man to offer me a touch in the dark.


Just a moment.

A moment to hold on to…

8 comments:

  1. In twenty-five years I imagine I'll still be on the look-out for some serious cock, so don't even think I'll pass you up. Of course, I've never made a habit of saying no to older men in my past...

    -Ace

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  2. His comment says so much of our culture that we don't take care of people who get to a certain age as we should whether it's their sexual need like you did in that theater or whether to visit, call, and check to see how they are doing. Since I moved to Florida and started this blog I have been with older men than I ever thought I would be; I have found some amazing sex partners of being more open to people of all age as long as their legal and above I am willing.

    I hope that we all help each other as we get older.

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  3. Ace--there was never any doubt...but you are an open, caring guy. People of that description are not universal. And I know you recognize the bigger question.

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  4. VRPBottom--Thank you for the thoughtful comment. I have often been a sucker (literally and figuratively) for grey hair. It seems like such an easy thing--to take care of each other. Frankly one of the reasons I love the piss party I go to, is that it is cross generational. I have seen true porn stars play with well dads they might never look at anywhere else.

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  5. Beautiful post, FP. The beauty is in the giving. You gave this man something he needed, with the attention, skill and love -yes, love - that most others do not have the understanding or the capacity to give. I'm glad it was you. You are one of the exceptional, the gifted, the mindful and I feel priveleged to read you.

    Much love,
    Drew

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  6. Thanks! I wasn't fishing for a compliment there, but I'm happy to get one. You're of a pretty rare type yourself.

    -Ace

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  7. Drew--Thank you. I worried that the stripped down style I seem to have fallen into for writing on this blog would not communicate all that happened that afternoon. I guess some of it came through. And thank you for those kind words...

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  8. Ace--I didn't think you were fishing either...

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