Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Bookstore Free-For-All

Lansing—January, 2015

After the rather ho-hum motel party which I talked about in the last post, I was ready by the next night to play in a different area of the state.  I advertised that I would be headed to Lansing.  Two favorites from that area said they would try to make it.  We were to meet at the bookstore which has a major play area behind the video sitting room.

There had been changes to the play area—some good, some not.  Many of the booths that you could step into with a partner now had some curtains for a little more privacy.  There was a cage added in a back corner up on a platform (love the idea, but I don’t see it being useful in how the room is currently used.)  There was a contraption for your partner to sit on that would spread his legs wide open—we used it to support a bent over partner as I fucked him.  And they had hung a sling in a brightly lit area.  It was no more than a series of straps the bottom but under his knees and there was one to support his back.  It was hung so high, I had to stand on tiptoe to use it.  And the bottom was terrifically uncomfortable.  (I have heard a proper sling is now at the venue—but I don’t know where they hung it.)  There was still a slurp ramp and many alcoves to lead a willing quarry. 

“Ooh, it’s going to be a hot night tonight.”  The fey clerk gives me a once over and finally takes my money.  “Go get ‘em, honey,” he tells me, handing me my change.

I grin and go back into the play area.  I walk through the video lounge.  Two men watch the screens, motionless and uninterested.  I walk past the couch in a sitting area and into the back room.  No one is there.  At all.  No, I hear a blow job being given behind a drawn curtain covering the alcove nearest me.  I walk around the slurp ramp.  And behind it.  I piss in the bathroom in the back corner.  When I emerge seven or eight people are milling in the half light. 

They need a catalyst.  Me.

One of the men is a good friend—and the tallest man I regularly bend over.  He is good looking, an inch or two taller than me, but you’d never know it as he drops to his knees as I unbutton my jeans.  I pull my cock out of the pouch of the jock.  The Tall One inhales and takes me into his mouth to get hard. 

It works.  Men surround us—but keep their distance.  More arrive.  I see my other f-bud who I have played with here before.  I nod.  He gropes himself as the Tall One pulls off my now hardened cock.  He’s showing it off to the crowd—with a “look what I got” expression on his face.

Another face I know emerges from the shadows.  He a top, with a cock that is long and thick.  The top stands at my side.  We hug.  He unzips and strokes himself to hardness.  The Tall One moves over to sample the new cock.  A younger otter falls to his knees and takes me down to the root.  Other men unzip.  Others kneel.  The room is suddenly awash with cock sucking.  The men in front of the two of us trade off on our cocks.  Soon, I sink to my knees.  I get to suck all three dicks.  The tall one and the other top force both their thick heads into my mouth at the same time.  I can’t take that much.  I gag—a sound that just increases the flurry of activity in the shadowy room.

Partners begin to change.  I stand up and am fellated by a young red head.  The angry red of my cock head looks brighter against his pale skin.  I watch one man making a pig of himself in front of us.  He stands, pushes his open trousers down to the floor and inserts the spit drenched cock he had in his mouth into his ass.  He bends lower and gets another man in his mouth.  I move toward him.  I want some of either end of him.  The other top is undoing the belt of the otter.  The otter bends willing and takes the Tall One into his mouth. 

The man in the new pig’s mouth leaves.  I step up to his face.  The man fucking the pig pushes the pig’s head down on my cock.  I feel the strength of the fuck slamming him into me and making him take me to the root with each stroke.  Suddenly the top has had enough he pulls out.  The pig is a pig.  He quickly spins around to taste his ass on the retreating man.  And I shove my spit soaked pecker into the well fucked ass in front of me.

“Argh!” he grunts around the ass flavored dick in his mouth.  It’s my turn to bounce him onto the cock in front of him.

Partners change in the oral that is happening on the outskirts.  A hot Black man arrives and interested parties shift to see what he has to offer.  I stay in the freshly fucked ass.  The Black man only has eyes for the man I’m fucking.  He comes over and sticks a fairly average sized dick in the pig’s mouth.  He grins at me—“How’s that ass?”

“You should find out.”  I pull out and turn him, knowing the pig will want this cock.  He does.  And to spit shine mine.

Behind me I hear my top friend shoot into the otter.  I know where my cock is headed next.  I leave the pig to the Black man and shove my cock into the creamy remains of my friend.

I fuck him hard.

Just as suddenly as it started, the cluster of men melts away.  My cum filled bottom wants a breather.  My top friend goes home—inviting me to stay once I’ve had my fill here.

I find the other man who said he’d come to play with me.  We fuck in a corner where there is a platform at the right height for him to grab onto. 

I fuck him twice more during the night.

I get the Tall One into the poor excuse for a sling.  We fuck the best we can, but soon retreat to the same corner I used before.

I fuck the Tall One twice more, too.

But I save my load for the cum-filled otter.  Not by choice but the other men have had to leave.  I bend him over the spreader seat.  I think I am going to load him quickly—but the waves subside and we add another man to the mix instead.  We happily take turns in both the otter’s holes.


I have been sucking cock in the back corner for a change of pace.  I know it’s time for me to get out of there.  I find the otter relaxing on one of the couches.

“You want a load?”

He doesn’t even answer; he just follows me to the convenient corner.  He bends, I insert.  I swear that I can still feel my friend’s load deep inside him.  Whether it’s there or in my mind doesn’t matter.  It sends me over the edge—pounding my own load out into his willing hole…


  1. Whoa. And that's a "bookstore"? We need to start calling you Cat or maybe Spark...

    1. Yes, it's a video rental/sex toy store in front. Pay admission and go through a door in the back wall and you are in a video lounge. But keep going into the bowels of this warehouse like space and the playroom is there.

      I don't go as often as I'd like as it's a fair distance from home. I need to go back and test drive the new sling...

      You may call me anything you like...Cat...Spark...Daddy...Sir...

    2. Well, I was gonna suggest Sir Catalyst Fuck Stud, but that doesn't roll off the tongue very well between grunts and moans. :-)