Monday, December 21, 2015

Cocksucking Collage

Northwest Indiana—October, 2015

The pressure from work was great enough that it kept sending me back to this new bookstore to relieve my stress.  I sucked a lot of cock.  I certainly let men blow me in return.  I fucked occasionally, but most men there had not prepped for it—so oral was certainly a better choice. 
I am not going to talk about every man I did there.  Let’s say that I was a pig.  I made a lot of older men, who are often ignored, very happy and racked up lots of good sexual karma.  After all, I want someone like me looking for Daddy cock when I’m in my mid-seventies. 

Here are is a sampling of the most memorable…

I can’t believe my good fortune.  On one of the couches is a man, stroking, who is straight from his construction site—boots, overalls that still have sawdust on them.   A handsome working man, stroking a slab of beef tight in his fist.  I sit near him.  He pats the vacant spot next to him on the couch.  My cock is jutting from my pants.  There is a third man around, but he leaves as I walk to the construction worker.

“Nice cock,” he says.

“As is yours.”

“Can I suck it?”   This surprises me still—after all these years.  Men who look like him should want to be serviced. 


He leans over and swallows me down.  The angle is bad.  He moves around to kneel in front of me.  Now it’s feeling great. 

When I don’t shoot right off, he stands up and sticks his uncut beercan in my mouth.  And he starts talking.  “My wife would love your dick.  We do this swinger’s club in Chicago.  You like women?”
I grunt an assent around his thick man meat.

“I love watching her with other men.  I’d love to see you in her.”  He pulls out and sits down next to me.  His phone comes out.  He shows me pictures of his pretty and petite wife—some in lingerie, some with nothing on, some spread-eagled on the bed, and one with a load dripping from her.
I agree that the three of us would have fun.

“Give me your phone number.”

I do.  My phone is locked in the car.  He dials, to leave me his number on my call list.

“I have to get back to work,” he says apologetically.  “Do you want my load?”

I try not to act too eager, but say I do. 

It takes no time with him still talking filth of what the three of us will do together.  I swallow and he goes back to the house he’s re-modeling.  I watch his full ass, bound in tight denim, leaving the room—thinking about the things he wants me to do to him in front of his wife.

I check my phone first thing when I get to my car. 

There is no trace of any call coming in at all.

Another day.  The place is full.  Men are playing in all four spaces.  Don, the ginger haired cocksucker, arrives.  We kiss.  But he won’t play.  There are too many men here.  “I’ve turned down most of these men in the past,” he whispers in my ear.  “I can’t let them see me do anything—much less get fucked.”

He settles on stroking his dick while I play with others.  Don gets off as I suck a tall, rangy guy in his mid-forties.  His dick is long and thin.  I have seen him feeding other men numerous times, but this is our first play.  “Damn you’re good,” he tells me loudly.  And cums.   Buckets.  The jizz won’t stop.   Don stands up and wants to feed me, but I am still swallowing, so Don erupts all over the floor.  And scurries back to work.

My feeder pats me on the head and tells me he’ll look for me.  But we are never there at the same time again.


Another day.  I am alone in the bi-sexual area.  There is a guy kneading the crotch of his polyester pants  in the gay area who has no interest in me.  I jerk lazily.  I have had several loads down my gullet, I don’t need anymore.

A tall man enters, ill at ease of where to go.  He sits in the tranny section.  He is well built, with a full head of brown hair—greying at the temples. He opens his jeans, pulling his carefully tucked Western style shirt out of his pants.  I can’t help myself.  I get up and sit in a chair near to him on the couch, my flared cock head redder than ever.

The guy looks at the screen—then at me.  He pulls his hard dick out.  “My buddy says, just start jacking and someone here will blow you.” 

I stand up.  “I guess that would be me.”

He seems surprised, but pleased.  I kneel in front of him.  My mouth replaces his hand.

“Oh, yeah.  Suck my dick.”  I swallow him to the root.  He’s sizable, but not so big I can’t show off all my tricks.  And he can’t stop talking.

“My buddy has sucked me a couple of times.   You two are the only guys I’ve let go down on me.  Oh, yeah.  Let me fuck your throat.”  I hold still and he bucks into me.  “Damn, that’s hot.”  He pulls out of me.  Long strings of that deep saliva connect us.  “Oh, yeah.  Look at that.  Just like in the porn my buddy has.”  He grabs the strands of saliva with his jerking hand and coats his dick.  I dive for his balls.

“Oh, yeah, buddy.  Nobody has ever licked my balls before.  Lick ‘em.  Get ‘em good and wet.”

He may like what I’m doing with my mouth, but I like his babble just as much—I’m jerking my own cock like mad.  I get under his balls and lick his perineum.  He edges toward the edge of the couch cushion.  “Oh, God— are you an ass eater?  I’ve never had a tongue there. Oh, fuck.  Fuck, man….”

My tongue has found his hole.  It burrows into his straight man hole.  I lick and spit—and jerk my own dick.

“Fuck, man.  No wonder you guys like to get fucked—that feels fantastic.”

Finally his words and my tongue are too much.  “Oh, shit man…”

I just get my mouth up there to catch his load.  All of it.  Another big load.  He shudders with each spurt.  I start shooting all over the floor after his first few shots.

He jerks himself out of my mouth and collapses on the back of the couch.  Neither of us can move.
He is gasping.  I am licking at his dick head—wanting every drop.

“Incredible man,” he pants.  “You just did two things to me no one else has done.”  I finally move up and sit next to him so he can stand up and pull his pants up.  “I want your mouth on me again.  Do you come here often?"

I tell him I’m here on Mondays. 

He thanks me again and strides out of the room.

I sit, watching him leave.  I can’t decide if he really was that much of a virgin to man sex or whether it was all part of a vocal fiction.  And I don’t really care.  He managed what many have not.  He got the cum out of my dick.  


  1. Yeah, honestly I don't mind being lied to in order to get me off. Whether it's a swinger or a virgin experiencing some firsts... But at the same time, it's not necessary. And it's more surprising when I get off hard without those theatrics.

    1. I think what I liked about both these men is that I couldn't be SURE if they lied to me. Did the first one call the wrong number? Did my phone not pick-up fast enough? Or with the other man, had he been rimmed and that's why he moved forward? Or was he just open to it from watching his buddy’s porn?

      Occasionally, I would see a couple at the piss party. They were both tops, both hung average at best. But one would always do this mantra as the other fucked a bud of mine: “Daddy, give him your big dick. Make him feel that monster. Fuck that telephone pole up his mancunt…” I could never look at the bottom when this was happening—for we’d both get the giggles.

      Now THAT is lying I have no time for…

  2. I love being a cocksucker and if a guy is lying to me, that's his thing, I don't care. I just love helping a Stud get everything out of the experience he wants.

    But seriously, I LOVE being a cocksucker! No really, LOVE IT! LOL

    1. LP--Now, how do you REALLY feel about cocksucking???!!!???