Too Big

Louisville--November, 2011

I had spent three nights with family after visitation and services, folding my tall frame into a top bunk bed with my older brother beneath me. Shades of childhood--only back then he insisted on the top bunk. Now his problematic back demanded the lower. As they all went north for Thanksgiving, I drove south to resume my job in Tennessee. I stayed in Louisville in a cheap, cheap motel. I needed some anonymous action at the bookstore. No names, no internet hassles. I found just that…　

“Do you mind?” We are the only two people in the straight theatre. He is good looking enough: longer hair, nicely formed features to go with the roman nose, a t-shirt with a band I’ve never heard of on it and tight black jeans. He’s waving a cigarette, though No Smoking signs are in evidence everywhere.

I make a non-committal noise. He flicks the lighter. He’s on the other end of the back row--a good five seats away from me. He’s one of those who comments on the porn. “Look at the rack on her.” or “Now he is hung.” It’s the latter I know he wants. He takes a fourth puff. It is over powering in the closed space. I button my fly. It’s a pretty limp video anyway--way too much interview time with the girls about to do their first movie. I walk over to the gay side.

Four men. Two older gentleman are carrying on a whispered conversation in the middle of the back row. I catch something about how much his retirement plan has gone down. There is an Italian looking man, asleep in the third row. And a young man in the second row. I sit there, with a good ten seats between us. As soon as I sit, he unzips and starts to beat. He is somewhere between 26 and 30 and a cub in build. His hair is cropped close to his head. He makes my cock stand up like the talkative girls in the porn could not. I stroke openly. The couple behind me leans forward. They look like they are at a tennis match--looking at me to the left; at the boy to the right. The boy looks at me furtively. I just stare at him. He comes over, body crouched as if he was going to get in the way of the projector. It puts his head right at crotch level. He deep throats me without batting an eye. Then he kneels with my cock impaling his throat. Holy fuck. He’s great. He can take me to the root on every stroke. When I see he is getting those thick strands of spittle, I pull him off me and kiss him deeply. He’s taken aback. Then warms up to the idea. He pulls away, diving for my cock again. I guide his head down to my balls. He likes that. He washes each of them, works his tongue between the cock ring and my balls with no guidance from me. Soon he’s back on my cock. About the time I think I might actually cum, he stops and says he needs a break.

He goes back to his seat. We stroke watching a Michael Lucas video. Soon, I go over to him. It’s my turn to surprise him by taking his cock to the root. I spend some time on his cock, but soon, I’m working down to his balls. Then lower. My tongue connects with his hole. I pull his legs up, to really get at it. He strokes furiously. I’ve found his spot. His hole is sweet with soap and fresh exertion sweat. I ram my tongue into him. Repeatedly. He’s panting. I am pretty sure I can fuck him right here. I bend forward. My cock slaps his hole. 

With a loud groan, he shoots. Cum is everywhere. But he doesn’t care. I smile and go back to my seat.

It’s later. Many more men have come in. All ages and types. Lot’s of truck drivers since there is huge lot for them to overnight. A pair of boyfriends who want to show off in the front row. Older men who want to watch. A few active participants.

I move back and forth between the two rooms. I end up next to an older African American. I’ve seen him on both sides. Tall, in shape, hair just going white at the temples. But he hasn’t unzipped, he just plays with himself through the fabric. We are now side by side in the back row on the gay side. I unbutton my camo pants. I’m hard and I stroke, slowly, showing it off. He eyes the screen, not me. Then turns and gives my cock a quick look. Then a scope to see if others are looking. His zipper comes down. A mound of white jockeys. I glance over. Slowly he pulls out his cock-- slightly more than average in length, but truly beer can in thickness. His large hand barely fits around it.

We sit and stroke. In the row in front of us, the Italian has woken up and has slid between the knees of another black man. We lose sight of him, but you can hear his slurping. We watch the movie. My seat mate leans closer to my ear. “Suck my dick, boy.”

Fuck…

I am on my knees. He’s sitting with his legs wide apart, all the material of his shorts and open pants kind of in the way. I lean in and lick the head. I do a lot of tongue around his entire cock before I try to get it all in my mouth. I suck him in. Fuck. I can’t breathe. I can’t do anything with my tongue. It’s the thickest cock I’ve ever had in my mouth. I know my teeth are not covered, but I can’t keep them that way as he pushes into my throat. I pull off and murmur an apology. He seems unfazed. I’m guessing it’s a matter of course for him. His hand finds the back of my head and pushes me back down.

Fifteen minutes later, my jaw is killing me. He has taken to jerking his cock into my open mouth. My tongue is all over his head. I’ve tried his balls, but he’s pulled me back into place. He wants to jerk it into my mouth. He works and works. Finally he just pulls up his Jockeys. “Look for me later.” And he’s out the door.

I get myself together. I go and piss, cool down a little and go into the straight theatre. There are maybe six men in the place. Standing in the corner is a good looking young man. Long hair, pulled back into a ponytail, jeans and sneakers. He has his dick out and is showing it off to the Smoker. He sees me and waves it in my direction. I kneel and take him to the root easily. It’s great to go back to a cock that is effortless after the other. I suck him for while, busily stroking my own dick. Soon he walks around me, and sticks his cock in Smoker’s mouth. I go behind him, work his jeans down and start rimming his hot little butt. He gasps and coats the smoker’s throat.

I look up. The black gentleman has been watching and stroking. He walks over to me.
“Open your mouth.”

I do. He shoots a load that covers my tongue. My beard. My nose.

I shoot right along with him.