Color Me Blue

Near Home—May/June, 2014

My next play centered around IML.  I hope you all read the day by day reporting of my sexual exploits with all those leather men from around the world.  (If you didn’t, the first of the seven posts is right here.)

When I came back from Chicago I didn’t want to play--which was a good thing, as my work schedule increased to the point where I really couldn’t have sex even if I’d wanted to do so.  I finally worked out a schedule so I could escape one night a week to the closest adult bookstore.  Maybe it was because I was forced into just one night of fun, but much of my summer play was awful, funny or odd. 

The first time I ventured out I had remarkable good luck at the beginning of the evening.  I got four loads down my throat from three different guys.  They were all rather dark and anonymous.  I haven’t a clue what any of them looked like.  The only note I made was about the guy after those three.  He was tall and skinny and dressed in shorts and a t-shirt—and he’d been in them for several days from the look and smell of them.  He wanted to suck my cock.  I said no thank you.  He offered again.  I said no.  Now he offered to suck my dick, if I would drive him home.  Repeatedly.  On and on.  “Will you take me home?  I’ll suck your dick if you will.”  He drove the one other occupant of the theatre out the door.  It got to the point I finally had to flee and lock myself in the rest room.  When I emerged, a large piss load lighter, it seemed like he had emptied the entire complex.  There was not a man in sight.  I went home blue balled.

*****

The next week started out well, too. 

I am on my knees sucking the big cock of the man with 666 tattooed on his shoulder.  (You can read the first encounter with him here.).  He’s holding my ears and fucking my mouth.  Hard.  The door opens.  A very hot young Hispanic guy comes in.  He stops dead, one hand on the door knob and one hand kneading his crotch.  He can’t take his eyes off of us.  We stop.  We turn our attention to him.  The young man pulls down his pants.  Mr. 666 bends over and sucks his cock.  I get behind the college kid and start eating his cute, brown butt.  He arches his back and grinds his hole onto my tongue.

“Fuck me, Papi.”

Mr. 666 stands.  I push into the hottest man I’ve seen at the bookstore in months.  His ass is hot, his full butt looks magnificent surrounding my cock.  Mr. 666 is in his mouth now.  We are spit roasting him, pumping in perfect time with each other.  Two more men come in and get their cocks out.  The three of them rotate in the boy’s mouth as I fuck.

And then it becomes clear there has been no clean out for this guy.  My cock is not covered, but caked with it.  The stench is over whelming and sends all the players scurrying away.  I wrap my dick in paper towel and head to the restroom.  But I can’t get the smell off of me with the cheap liquid soap.  I have to go home. And shower and shower.  Blue balled.

*****

The next week I am so horned.  I have not jacked off, knowing things have to get better.  I have a massive load for someone.  I drive my 45 minutes in a blur of visions of what I might get to do. ..

I arrive to an empty parking lot.  The bookstore is closed.  There is no power anywhere in this part of the city. 

Blue balled before I could even get it up.