Near Home—July, 2016
It was Fourth of July weekend. I had excused myself from the crowd of my fellow employees who were going out to watch fireworks—and I went out to create some fireworks of my own at the bookstore nearest my house. I had no idea how many men would have the same idea…
I am kneeling in front of a man sitting in the gay theatre. His legs are splayed—waiting for some oral attention. He will be the fifth cock I’ve had in my mouth tonight. I have already gotten two loads down my throat. The only special thing about this man is that he has a hard dick—and tonight I want to suck any cock I can stick in my mouth.
I bend onto him. I feel his hardness glide to the back of my throat. I pull up once and—
“Damn…” he grunts out.
The man is shooting thick, ropy jizz into the back of my throat. He pulls out of my mouth. I try to lick the last drop off his piss slit, but he won’t let me. He stands up, zips up and is gone.
I am alone now in the theatre. The slight crush of activity when I arrived has stopped. No one is anywhere—in either theatre or the arcade. For at least 30 minutes. And worse, it’s third rate, condomed porn. I check the straight side again. No one there and the porn is worse—a whole movie of women and dildos.
I watch the twinks fuck on the screen. I feel for them, their dicks flagging while fucking in tight latex wrappings. No one on this set has thought to give these young men Viagra for the porn shoot.
The door buzzes. In walks a short man I recognize from other nights. I’m pretty sure we have never played. He’s a little younger than I am and in decent shape. He sits down next to the wall, opens his shorts (he’s commando underneath) and pulls out a decent enough dick. But he can’t get it hard with this poor porn.
“This is terrible,” he mutters to me. He quickly pulls up his shorts and goes out. In moments the screen goes white as the disc is changed. The door reopens as the new movie starts. It’s one of the ones made by BBRT—a mix of amateurs and bareback porn stars.
“Now this should be better,” he announces as he sits back down and hauls out his hardening junk.
And it is. It’s a hot enough movie for both our tastes. I know this, for he never stops talking about it.
“Now that’s a cock. I’d love that up my pussy.”
“Look at that ass. Eat it out, you pig. (To the top on the screen, not me!)
“That cute hole deserves a creamy white load.”
“Look at him take that raw dick. Shove it up him, machofucker.”
Normally, I might be put off by the porn dialogue coming from the man next to me, but it’s doing a number on my dick. I’m harder than earlier in the evening and dripping.
Finally, I ask him—“You want that cock sucked?”
“Naw,” he replies, “But I’ll do you.”
I agree—and it will shut him up.
But it doesn’t. He has a comment on my girth or my hardness or my taste or my stamina after every lick or deep throat.
“You fuck with this thing?” he finally asks, pulling off me and rocking back on his heels.
“Well, stick it in my man-pussy.” He stands up and braces himself against the wall. “Fuck me raw.” He wiggles his nicely rounded ass at me. I spit on my cock to add to his saliva. I slide home easily. He’s pre-lubed and ready.
I fuck him with hard, deep strokes. They leave him breathless. And silent.
I’m sure that I won’t have any other options tonight, so soon I ask if he wants my load.
“Not in my ass!”
He pulls off me. “I just like to watch breedings.” He gets to his knees. “Jack it into my mouth.”
So I do.
And head home, only vaguely satisfied.