I was taking my time to get to my destination in upstate New York. I left Cleveland surprisingly rested after the hours of play at the bathhouse. I made it through Erie, PA a few hours before a mountain of snow was dumped on the area. I couldn’t move into my company housing until Sunday, so I drove until I got to the second biggest town in the vicinity of the smaller one where I would be working. The company was paying for an overnight—and I wasn’t going to submit my bathhouse receipts—so I got a motel. I knew there was a bookstore with an arcade in town—one I’d not been to the year before. The explorer in me was roused.
I walked into the arcade about 9 o’clock on a Saturday night. It looked like all the others I had visited the year before, but slightly larger. There were 16 booths—eight doors on each side, with a corridor around the outside of them all. The white doors were yellowed and rather grubby from sticky fingers opening and closing them. But that meant there was traffic. There were maybe four booths with the red light above the door glowing which meant the room was occupied. One older man was surveying the cover art of the various videos that were playing. It was fluorescently white in this area. As I walked down the hall, the corridor got darker and darker. One man lounged on the back wall. It was now dark enough I couldn’t tell much about him. Except that he was squeezing his crotch…
I pause and lean against the wall near the corner. I am standing right next to the emergency exit. I am lit by the red exit sign above me. He unzips. I can’t see the cock that I assume emerges. His fist covers his entire dick. He takes a step towards me. His hand picks up speed. Doors open on the far side of the corridor---the side of the ring I haven’t walked down yet. Footsteps are headed in our direction. I expect the guy to zip up and ignore me. But no, two guys round the corner. They stop—watching the guy play with himself. One moves around to be close to me, the other stops across from the stroker. I can’t see much about the new arrivals, though they seem slightly younger. My cock is stirring. I think the guy who’s moved near me will make a move. But he simply leans against the wall, staring at me.It’s the original stroker who walks over and feels my hardening cock in my jeans. This makes the other guys start feeling themselves up. The stroker unbuttons my fly. I’m in shock. I thought he would lead me to the nearest booth. I have never played in public in a bookstore in this state. My fly is open. My cock is out of my jock pouch. The stroker is now the sucker. He’s on his knees and giving me expert head. The guy nearest me twists my nipple. The man farthest from me pulls out his cock. He loves showing off for me—the new guy. The nipple twister unzips, but doesn’t pull his cock out.
Out of nowhere, there is rush of air over our heads. I jump, but the guys with me are oblivious. An overpowering smell of disinfectant is in the air. I look up and see the automatic dispenser. It spits again. I look at the guy working my nipple. He is my age. His hands are calloused and rough. The sucker grunts. I look down. He has pulled off my cock to enjoy his own orgasm. I hope he’s missed shooting on my pants leg.The nipple twister pulls me into the nearest booth, my hard cock bouncing. He locks the door and goes down on me in one smooth move. He’s good, but no match for the skills of the older man. When it’s obvious I’m not going to shoot in the first four minutes, he struggles up. He looks at me.
“Suck on this.”He undoes the top button of his jeans and spreads them open. No underwear. A short, thick cock juts out from his crotch. I feel his hands on my shoulders pressing me down. I take him to the root. It’s a stretch, but a good one. He grunts in pleasure. I work hard. My tongue finds his piss slit. Jesus. I go incredibly deep into it. It must be huge. He likes my tongue there. Precum drips from it. He pulls out of my mouth. He fists his dick with his right hand. With his left he works the tip of his pinkie into the huge piss slit. He strokes his urethra, plunging his finger into himself, deep enough that most of his finger tip disappears into his cock.
Then he sticks his cummy cock back in my mouth. I suck. He pulls out and does it again.“Get up.”
I do. He goes back to sucking me.We trade blowjobs repeatedly—each time with moments of him sounding his cock with his finger. We finally stop—knowing neither of us wants to get off so early in the evening.
*****I am back in the hallway. New men have filtered in. A young man in his mid-thirties, his hair buzzed short, his body hidden by a quilted jacket, makes his way into the dark end of the corridor.
We look at each other.We look at the two other men who are there with us.
He makes no move.We wait for them to leave.
And wait.Finally they amble off.
I go over to him. He tilts his head to the end booth. No public play for him.He’s all business. He’s unzipped and his cock out by the time I follow him into the booth. He has a beautifully shaped dick, with a very wide silver cock band at the base. He has no interest in my cock. He wants a quick blow job and to get home before his boyfriend.
His jizz is down my throat in record time.
*****There’s no one here. All the guys have evaporated while I was playing with the cock ringed guy. I wander out of the store and get a coffee. I spend some time sipping and making notes about the night before for the blog. When I am down to the dregs, I go back to the bookstore. A very young man is the first person I see. He’s at the arcade entrance himself as I walk in. He moves quickly to the dark end of the corridor. He’s maybe 26 or 27. His designer coat is open revealing expensive clothes. He is waiting under the exit sign. The red light does odd things to his ebony skin.
I lean against the opposite wall.His hand brushes his fly.
I do the same.His hand lingers the second time across his crotch. Kneading.
I make the move. I open my pants.He pretends not to look. He studies an ancient porn poster on the wall as if it were 17th Century Master.
I stroke.He looks at me.
I wait. And stroke.He saunters over.
He leans into my ear and whispers “That’s big, daddy. I’ll suck it if you will suck my big cock.”I nod.
He hunkers down, careful to not let his knees touch the sticky floor.He’s good. I really need to blow a load and go home. But I don’t want to shoot first. I hold off. I help him up. His cock is big—but not all that big. It’s a nice mouthful. I deep throat him repeatedly, then change up by licking his balls. That’s all it takes. “Here!” he hisses. And shoves his cock back in my mouth. He explodes.
I swallow all of his cum—which makes me shoot all over the floor. He pulls me up and kisses me—something I didn’t expect. I let him taste what little of his semen in still on my tongue.I am suddenly exhausted—finally feeling the lack of sleep the night before. I head back to the motel, pleased that the exploration found one more bookstore, and one where guys are willing to play in public…