Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Bookstore Safari


Near Home--June, 2012

We met online.  It’s early June--work hasn’t mushroomed out of control yet, but I’ve lost the use of my playroom for the summer.  (It’s had to become a bedroom again.  And it makes me smile every time I think about the straight couple bedding down in there on that well used bed.)  This guy online is hot for my cock, but he can’t host either.  What to do?

 “We could meet at the bookstore,” I suggest.  “Would you like to get fucked in front of other guys?”  He loves the idea.  Then he’s nervous.  But he’ll be there.  We agree to meet at 8pm.  I tell him to make sure he goes into the theatre not the arcade—two people barely fit in the arcade booths—certainly not much room to fuck.  I describe the theatre—all 13 seats of it.  I suggest we take the back row, where a seat is missing and I’ll have lots of room to maneuver as he leans over the seat in front.  I tell him I’ll be in my army issue shirt and black 501’s.  He’s excited.  He’s scared.  I wonder if he’ll show…

The door buzzes.  I push and enter.  Barely.  It’s dark.  And a crowd is right at the door.  Likely I’ve interrupted a blow job in the corner behind the door.  I push in a little more.  Yeah, two guys are pulling clothes together.  It’s too dark to see anything about them.  I grope along the wall which is barely lit by the TV screen.  It’s auteur porn showing.  The Director/Videographer is talking to the barely 18 year old girl from behind his camera.  Soon she’s sucking his cock…..all from his point of view—we never see his face or full body. 

 My eyes adjust.  He’s there.  Sitting in the farthest of the three seats in the back row.  He’s Germanic, with a high forehead and a close crop of what blond hair he has left.  He’s in an A-shirt that gleams in the gloom and jeans.  His arms look like he’s been pouring concrete all day—big, thick and muscled.  He glances around nervously.  He looks at me, trying to decide if it’s me.  I step towards him.  He smiles sheepishly and I sit next to him. 

His hands are on my bulge.  He kneads me.  My cock responds.  He’s being very careful not to do anything overt.  I smile at him and look at the men in the room.  There are two older men in the front row.  I know them—regulars who are always on the edge of any action.

 He opens the buttons on my jeans as I look around to the door.  The two guys I interrupted must have moved back into the corner, out of my range of sight.  Two other guys lean against the wall—both younger, in shorts and t-shirts, one in sandals and other in flip flops.

 He pulls out my cock.  “You’re sure it’s ok?”  I nod.  “If a cop….”   He leaves it unfinished.  I don’t tell him, that the only cop I’ve ever seen here shot a huge load down my throat.  I place a hand on the back of his head.  Just steady pressure—urging him to go down on me.

 “Fuck.  That’s nice.”  His last words before his mouth engulfs my dick.  He’s pretty good, but the angle is bad.  I lean over and whisper in his ear, telling him to get on the floor.  He tries, but he can’t fit.  He crawls back up into his seat.  I stand and, with my erect dick swaying, move in front of him and stuff it in his mouth.

 The boys on the side wall are now watching us.

 He’s mortified.  And delighted.  I fuck his face.  Angle is everything--and now he is really making me feel good.   He opens his own fly to stroke as he swallows me down.

 I want his ass.  I have promised him a long rim job since he swears he’s tight.

 “Come on,” I tell him.  “I want to taste your hole.”  He just stares at me.  The reality of doing it in front of these guys is sinking in.  He looks at me.  I just nod. 

 And wait.

Finally, he rises, and stepping into the seatless area, jerks his trousers and underwear down with one swift motion.  I get up into the seatless area as well.   I push him forward, bending him over the seat in front of him.  No one is in the middle row.  I kneel behind him.  His ass cheeks glow white--they are brushed with blond down, but I can only tell that from the feel of them on my face.  His hole is hairy and smells of soap.  And a little fear-induced sweat.  I lap it away.  He’s responding.  Even groaning softly as I rim.  One of the 30 year olds comes into the middle row and gets out his cock.  My partner—what the fuck is his name??!!—looks at me over his shoulder in panic.  I look up and nod.  The guy just strokes near his face, he won’t let him suck it.

 I go back to eating.  His hole is opening.  I really want to sink my cock in him.  I stand up.

 “Remember the Magnum,” he hisses.  I sink back down and eat some more.  I fish in my pocket and find the foil packet.  I roll it on as my tongue sinks as deep as possible up him.  I open my lube as I rim and pour it on liberally.

 And I’m up him.  He reaches back to make sure I have it on—not believing I can do it so surreptitiously.  It’s a contract, dude.  I’ll honor it. 

 His ass is tight.  It even feels pretty good through the latex.  What’s better is having all 6 guys watch us.  The two in the front row, make no attempt to watch the screen with a live fuck going on behind them.  The two from the corner have moved out into sight now, and the other young guy has joined the stroker.  Soon he’s actually going down on the stroker, pissing off my boy who really wanted one of them in his mouth as I fucked.

 And the door buzzes.  He starts to get up.  I push him back.  And in walks a hetro couple.  Fuck—it’s couple’s night here on Saturdays.  The suckers separate like a lightning bolt came between them.  The guys in the front row rise and mutely offer their seats. 

 The man and woman are in their 50’s, well dressed and looking for something naughty.  He’s a little drunk.  She nods to the men and starts to the front row….then hears my hips slapping on bare ass.  She stops.  Her eyes have adjusted just enough.  She gestures towards us, and in a voice I’m sure she thinks is a whisper, says “George.  Look.  Gays.”  And she stands watching me long dick my hairy piece of ass. 

 My boy turns his face away from them to the wall.  His look pleads with me to stop.  But I’ll have none of it.  I fuck.  Harder and louder.  I even slap his ass.  She’s transfixed—watching this alien species as they rut.  What luck to catch such wild game on their urban safari.

 Finally she pulls her husband along to the front row.  I slow and eventually pull out.  My man grabs for his jeans and sits down quickly.  My cock juts forward, as hard as ever, as I roll the latex off.  She glances back.

 Her whisper carries right to us.  “My.  He’s a big one…”

 My partner sinks into his seat, wishing the floor would open. 

 I just smile.

4 comments:

  1. FP,

    Hopefully one day he will let you slide in bare.

    I am imagining the wife telling her husband later I wish you were as big as the gay man fucking in the theater. He had a great tempo going....you could learn a thing or two. (I have such a naughty mind!)

    VRPB

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    1. I hope she did, too. They must have saved something for when they went home---they didn't even grope each other in the cinema.

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  2. Like VRPB, I imagined the couple too. After “George. Look. Gays.” I saw them as George and Martha from "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" And not just any Martha, I saw her as a blowsy-and-bawdy Elizabeth Taylor. Somehow, that didn't take away from your fuck at all.

    A really hot scene. I (too) hope there'll be a repeat performance with the big-armed blond soon. You showed him off well and gave him just what he needed—whether he knew it or not. His palpable and anxious unease added to his (ultimate) enjoyment—and mine.

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    1. As for thinking of her as Martha....well, after looking around at all the fast food napkins littering the floor stained and crusty from mopping up jizm, the used condoms in the back corner and the slight odor of locker room and stale piss...she could be forgiven for muttering "What a dump."

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