"I Hear You Like to Tongue Ass..."

Near Home—October, 2014

It’s another Friday night at the adult bookstore.

I am watching gay porn on the big screen television.  It’s not theatre seating over here, but about a dozen padded chairs that start the night in three rows, and end up hugging the walls so guys can either watch each other stroke or have easier access for sex.  The chairs have already been scattered before I arrive.  I am in the back corner, farthest from the door.  I am mostly in shadow but, when the screen is brightly lit, my erect cock is visible as I leisurely stroke it. 

Right now I am alone.  An occasional man has come in, hovered against the  back wall for a moment, then taken off when he sees that there is no sex happening. The gay porn is decent for a change—slightly sloppy bareback with pretty young men—so I am content. 

For the moment.

I stroke, watching an Eastern European blond take a huge uncut cock in what looks like his incredibly tight hole.  The top pulls out.  The blond flips over so the top can stroke a huge load into the bottom’s wide open mouth.  I could wish it were my tongue cleaning up that thick foreskin up on the screen.

The door opens.  A man stands framed in the light from the hall.  He shuts it behind him and comes to the chair nearest me.  I look over at him again.  I have seen him before—he has a penchant for fucking college kids here.   He is a handsome Latino, approaching middle age.  His gym built body is evident under his opened leather jacket and clinging knit shirt.  His ample butt fills his jeans.  I remember a bigger than average cock on him, but I’m pretty sure I’ve never sucked it.  And I’ve certainly never seen him go down on anyone.

I continue stroking and watching the movie, fully aware that his eyes are me.  I look over at him again.  He’s kneading the front of his jeans.  I look back to the boys on the screen—some decent rimming action is happening.  I hear his zipper go down.  I wait to look over at him until he pulls his cock out.  He’s rock hard.  His hand stays on the tip of his cock, working his foreskin up and down over the red head underneath.

“I hear you like to tongue ass.” 

I turn to him.  “Oh…?”

“That Mexican kid you’ve fucked told me.”

I have to only think for a moment.  I know who he means—that guy I’ve stopped fucking since he refuses to come to the bookstore cleaned out.

“He told me to look for your combat boots.”

This makes me smile.

He stands up and pulls down his pants to his knees.  “I cleaned up hoping I’d bump into you.  I don’t want to be fucked, just eat my ass like you would some bottom whore.”  He twists the chair around so he can kneel in it and point a very hot ass right at me.

I kneel on the hard floor so I’m directly face level with his slightly furred cheeks.  My hands stroke the hot globes.  I spread them.  I hear him take a hit of poppers.  I spit on his hole.  I hear an intake of his breath.  My tongue plunges into him.  The Latino under me groans and twists his ass into my face.  I grab onto his hard cock and use it to pull myself closer into his ass crack.  He hadn’t lied to me.  He’s fresh from the shower—but I’m making him sweat—so I can taste the real him, a great mix of sweet and slightly acrid. 

His hole is flowering open.  My tongue sinks deeper and deeper into him.  I am jerking my cock—it’s dripping onto the tile.  I stop, pull his cheeks as far apart as possible, and hit home with my tongue.

“Fuck, that feels good.  Eat my ass.”

Amazingly, no one interrupts us as I spend the next ten minutes or so licking his hole

.

Finally I have to stand up.  My cock brushes his ass.

“Go ahead,” he says.  “Just put the head in me.”

“Really?”

“Just the head.  Let me feel it.”

I grab my cock and watch as the helmet head enters his brown pucker. 

“Jesus,” he yelps.  “Take it out.”

I do.   I spit onto his hole.

“Try again.  Just the head.”

“That was just the head,” I mutter.

I stick it in him again.  He is beating his meat like crazy.

“Oh, dammit.”  He’s muttering now, under his breath.  “I have a dick in my ass.  That big dick…”

“You want me to really fuck you?”

“I’m not cleaned out—and I know you hate shit on your dick.”

I think for a moment I might just plunge into him anyway.  But he’s right—with no easy clean up, I’m not going there.  I pull out.

The Latino swivels around and sits on the chair.  His cock now looks huge with its angry, red head as he skins his foreskin back with every stroke.

“I’m gonna…” he doesn’t finish. 

I am back on my knees in no time and get the first jet of his cum shot into my mouth.  He lets go and I take his cock into me.  I suck out all of his load and swallow hungrily. I make sure to clean under his foreskin—just like I saw the cute boy do in the video.

In moments the Latino looks rather sheepish and zips up his fly, thanks me and leaves.

*****

Hours later.

I’m on the straight side.  Gangbang porn has been playing.  I love watching seven guys take turns on the blonde on the screen.  All holes are used repeatedly. 

And it’s a good thing I like the movie for no one else has been around to show any interest in me.  I stroke until I’m on the verge of orgasm.  I hate wasting my load on the cold linoleum.  I edge a little more.

The door buzzes.  It’s a cute enough college kid, a cub who I know is a true cock hound.

 

“You need help with that cock?”  He drops his pants.

“You want it?  I’m really close.”

“I have a load in my ass.  Shove it in there.”  He bends in front of me, holding on to another chair for support.  I enter him easily with his slightly cummy hole, pushing that load deeper into him. 

It’s all about me.  

I pump him only three or four strokes before I shoot my load deep into his gut.