“Is that a pistol in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

Upstate New York—January, 2013

My time in New York was winding down.   Another business type came to a hotel near me.  We fucked for a bit.  It seemed to be going well, but he finally stopped me mid thrust, claiming I was just too big.  Ugh.

The bookstores continued to be my main release.  I found a couple of rather big dicked, leather-ish looking guys.  Both times we’d exchange mutual head.  We’d then talk about meeting up with their partner---as I inevitably got the line: “My boyfriend would love that up his ass.”  Phone numbers were exchanged.  Or screen-names traded.  But nothing ever came of any of them.

But I do have one last story to share from the bookstores of upstate New York…

 I switch off the radio.  I can’t take any more in depth analysis from NPR about the school shootings in Connecticut.   I swing my car into the parking lot behind the closest of the bookstores in my area.  There are quite a few cars in the lot.  A good sign, but they could be going to the bank or getting Chinese takeout as easily as looking for sex.  I park next to a huge SUV and step out into the slush of January.  I check my pockets:  lube, poppers, napkins, cockring and dollar bills.

It’s hot in the arcade.  I have left my hat and gloves in the car.  I unwind my scarf and stuff it in the inside pocket of my long winter coat.  Three booths have lights on above the closed doors.  I try the first.  Locked.  I can hear the sounds of a blow job in progress.  I try the second.  Locked.  No sound from this booth at all.  I continue around the corner.  The corner booth is lit.  The door is closed.  I try the knob.  It’s not locked.  I push it open.  A bear-ish man looks up.  He smiles and gestures for me to come in.  He has taken off his coat, and shoved it into the back of the bench.  His jeans are open.  A thick beer can of a dick is being jerked by a hand that does some sort of manual labor. His cowboy boots are leaving tiny pools of water on the tile.

I slip out of my coat and hang it on the door knob after I lock it.  I undo my belt.  I unzip.  My cock flops out.

“That’s a big one.”  The man reaches for it and slides his rough hand over the length of it.   But he makes no move to suck it.  Instead he spreads his legs, in invitation for me to go down on him.

I kneel.  I have to oval big.  And work at covering my teeth.  My tongue swirls over his helmet head.  And then works into his wider than usual piss slit.  It’s dripping.  I spend a long time on it, licking the pre-cum out and swallowing.  He grunts in appreciation.

Soon those rough hands are on either side of my head.  He holds me tight and begins controlling my cock sucking speed.  My cock jumps as he pushes me deeper.  He pulls me up the length of his dick.  Then back down.  My hands flail out.  I grab his denim clad hips for support

That’s when I feel it.  It has to be, it can’t be anything else.  He’s wearing a handgun.  Part of me wants to wiggle out of his grip and get the hell out of there.  The other side of me wants him to continue to just fucking use me. I don’t really have any choice anyway.  His hands never let up.  Down. Up. Down. 

Suddenly he holds me down.  I gasp for breath.  Shit.  I don’t want him to cum that deep.  I want to taste his load.  He holds me in place until I choke.  Only then does he let me up for air.  I gulp oxygen into my lungs.  He gives me a second, then it’s back down on his thick, ol’ cock.

When I come up this next time, I am leaking spittle from deep in my throat.  He seems to like that.  He lets me suck it all down before his cock plunges back into my mouth.  Not as deep now.  I am pretty sure he will shoot soon. 

His pace picks up.  And it’s there; his cum is all over my tongue.  I savor and swallow.

He bellows with each shot of his orgasm.  Loud enough they had to have heard him at the front counter.  My own cock belches out a load.   I hold on to him—one hand on hip, one hand on holster.

When he lets go, I pull away and begin the mop up process of my cock.

He grunts a “Thanks” and gets dressed without any wipe down.

We move past each other, letting me stay in the booth as he takes off.  His coat is covering the holster, so I never see his gun.

But I do notice that I have left a large cum load on his right cowboy boot.

Santa's Sex Party

Upstate New York—January, 2013

The day after the pump and dump, I pulled up the party list on that more vanilla hook up site.  It was my one evening off that week.  And last night had made me really hungry for more ass.  Only one group looked promising.  It was in the biggest city in the area, a drive, but not terribly far.  The way the party ad was worded I couldn’t tell if it was latexed or bare.  I was horny enough I didn’t care.  I knew I’d pack the Magnums.  I pulled up the host’s profile—a man slightly older than I, claiming a play area in his basement.  Within moments I got a message from the host saying he’d hoped I could come to his party.  We talked a bit.  He had lots of interests.  Yes, it would be bare.  He wanted my fist and he owned a ton of toys.  I decided to drive up.

Yahoo maps defeated me.  The site got me close, but without an all-important turn.  I was now over half an hour late and in a foul mood.  I had a phone number.  I called.  He gave me the name of the missing street and I found it without any trouble.  It was a typical suburban ranch style house.  I rang the bell.  Santa Claus opened the door.  He was nowhere as rotund as the famous Thomas Nast pictures, but with his snow white hair and beard—well, I couldn’t shake the image.  I followed him down to the playroom.  No one was there.  I was not happy.  I changed into my leathers.  I’d driven this far.  I decided I’d fist him and go home….

The doorbell rang.  And then again.  A small group did indeed begin to materialize.

First in was a bald, bear of a man.  He and the host knew each other.  He was, he announced, an eager bottom and wanted to to see if he could take someone of my size. 

Then a cute young man came down the stairs.  He was tall, thin, big dicked and not conventionally good looking, but extremely playful and loved older men.

A married bear arrived next.

Then a hot construction worker-type with a dick that was just a little smaller than mine.

The cast was assembled…

 We are all in a circle.  The host and the bald bear are on the floor, the rest of us standing around them getting head, playing with nipples and kissing. I’m doing all that plus I have two fingers up the ass of the married bear.  Soon it’s the cutie and I on the floor, sucking the rest of the room.

I rise.  I guide the bald bear away from the group and into the sling.  “Let’s get you opened up.”  He tells me to go slow.  I kneel and stick my tongue deep in his overly hairy hole.  He grunts in appreciation.  The rest of the men have congregated around the sling, watching and idly playing with the dick next to them.  I stand up, and slowly insert my lubed cock.  He’s tight.  Very.  I inch forward.  He huffs poppers and within seconds, I am swallowed by his ass.  I hold.  Then slowly start to fuck.  My slender hips smack his full ass with a sound that reverberates throughout the basement.  It turns the other guys on.  The construction guy is now down on his knees sucking the married bear. The cutie and the host have moved around to work the nipples of the bear in the sling.  I fuck a long time.  He eggs me on.  When I need a rest, the cutie moves around and inserts his long, thin and uncut cock into the well lubed, hot hole.  Santa takes my cock and cleans it murmuring he loves ass to mouth.  I let him have it all.

The bald bear finally signals he needs a break.  The married bear grabs my wrist and tells me to fuck him.  He leads me to the now vacant sling.  He hops in but seems unclear what the stirrups are for.  I get his legs situated, then rim, then rise.

“Oh, fuck.  You are gonna fuck me bareback.  Stick that raw cock up me.  Fuck me bareback, man.  But don’t cum in me.  I want that raw cock….”  He never stops spouting his little mantra.  I work up him.  He’s easier to get into.  For a moment his eyes register panic, then he relaxes into the moment and tells me how hot my raw cock is making him.  He can’t take me for long.  “Don’t blow in my ass,” he keeps reminding me.  I don’t tell him it would take an act of God to get me off this early in the proceedings.  Eventually he asks me to stop.  He gets out and takes his crimson cock to the construction guy, who obligingly deep throats it.  Married bear shoots instantly, making the construction guy shoot all over the linoleum.  Both dress and leave.

I fuck Santa.  The cutie fucks Santa.  I start to fist Santa.  (Now there are sentences I never thought I’d type.)  The young cutie and the bald bear are doing taking turns sucking each other.  As I start to insert my speculum into Santa, the doorbell sounds.  It’s a young man—dark, defined, Italianate, uncut.  And petrified that we are playing bareback.  He lets the young cutie suck him and the old guys get to lick his nipples.  I pry open his tightly clenched ass cheeks and run my tongue up and down his crack.

The host asks if he can rim me.  I get in the sling.  His beard actually feels great on my ass crack.  He loves digging into my ass with his tongue.  He spits and sputters.  I have to remind him of my “no fingers” rule.  He apologizes.  The cutie is working the cock of the dark young man as the bald bear lies on an exam table and jerks, as he watches the scene.  Young cutie is looking kind of bored at the lack of energy and enthusiasm his partner gives off.  When Santa needs to stand up and stretch, the cute young top asks if he can lick my hole.  I answer, by simply taking a hit of poppers.  Then the hottest moment of the night happens.  He is doing a perfectly good job on my ass crack, but Santa doesn’t think so.  He grabs his from behind, an arm around his neck and starts whispering into his into his ear how to do it.  He is forcing the face of the young man into my ass.  Deeper and deeper.  I can see he can’t breathe.  And we are both getting off on it.

“Eat his hole.  Work that tongue into him.  Come on.  Spit on his hole.”  He pulls him back so he can do just that.  I look down to see if he’s happy.  The look of unbridled lust on both their faces makes me jerk my cock even harder.  “Lick him good.”  Santa turns the young man’s head so he can taste me on his lips.  I take my hand off my cock, not trusting myself.  

Then the moment is over.

The bald bear claims he can’t get fucked again.

I eat the ass of cute young man as the Italianate guy watches.  It’s soft, smooth and quite wondrous. 

“I think I want to get fucked.”

I stand up.  I didn’t know he was versatile.

“But I really shouldn’t.”  I just look at him.  “I really want to know what your cock feels like, though.”  I slap my cockhead against his hole.  “I can’t get fucked bare.”  Ever the Boy Scout, I pull a Magnum out of the waistband of my chaps.  It’s rolled on and going into him before he can change his mind.  And he loves it.  He becomes very verbal, too, calling himself such a slut for bottoming for me.  He jerks so hard I am pretty sure he’ll cum.  But he doesn’t.  It does inspire the bald bear to get off all over the chest of the young man in the sling as I pound away.

When he signals he’s had enough, he jumps out of the sling and gives me a deep kiss.

The rest of the night is spent trying to get the Italianate young man to get off.  The cute guy is on the exam table, his head hanging over the edge.  The stud fucks into his mouth—bending slightly to get a better angle.  I kneel behind the stud and lick his ass crack.  He’s wedged between the two of us.  He shoots down the cute guy’s throat.  That causes the cute one to cum.  And that makes me shoot all over the ankles of the stud.

Not a bad Saturday night at all.

Short, but Sweet--the NY pump and dump

Upstate New York—January, 2013

It was short and sweet.  And not how I usually play.  And it was probably the hottest sex I had in New York.

It was 10pm.  I had signed on to one of the more vanilla hook up sites, hoping there might actually be someone who could host.  I’d even told myself I’d break out the condoms, if that’s what it took to get some ass. The menu bar flashed.  It was a guy, claiming late 30’s, with no pictures at all.  Of course.  “Safe Sex ONLY” was his headline. He was in a motel in town for the night.  He was looking to get fucked.  Then, before I could answer, he sent another message, telling me it was really a pump and dump and he wanted to take loads.  I suddenly didn’t care what he looked like.  I even knew where his motel was located.  I was out the door and headed to room 336.

 He’s living the fantasy of so many bottoms.  The door is ajar.  I leave the stark light of the hallway into his dimly lit room. His full ass is in the air.  He’s not sure who is coming through the door.  His arm is thrown across his eyes. I can’t tell much about him, and I don’t care.  It’s been at least 10 days since I’ve fucked a hole.  All my sex since the dirty piss guy has been all oral in the bookstore and I need to breed.

He hears me undo my belt and pull down my pants.  I don’t even take off my boots.  I squirt some lube on my cock.  And kneel to taste his hole.

He gasps.  Not what he was expecting.  My tongue goes deep into his hole.    There is no evidence that anyone else has been here yet.  He flowers open with no work at all.  I spit deep into his ass.  His hole is hairy, which only gets me harder.  I jerk as I eat.  You can hear my fist on my cock in the stillness of the room.  I stand and insert. 

“Holy crap.”  He huffs poppers.  “Fuck me with that thing, stud.” 

I do.  I am pumping really fast and hard.  His ass feels great.  Incredibly silky.  Then I smell it.  Cum.  He’s been seeded.  The big flared head of my dick is pulling it out.  I pull out and taste his hole.  It’s right there now.  I swallow some of the load.

“You taste the fours loads I have up there?”

It’s my turn to groan.  I make his ass incredibly slick with the cum and my spit.  Then I am back up him.  My cock feels bigger and thicker than usual.

“Split me open, man.  Dump your seed in my hole.”

I am actually close.  “Do you want to taste some of their loads on my cock?”  I ask.

He grunts agreement.   

I pull out and bring it around to the side of the bed.  He uncovers.  He has a handsome face.  And a body he has stopped working on quite some time ago.  He grunts and eats the cum off my cock greedily. 

“Now fuck me.  Open me up for this Black guy who’s coming.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.  Claims to have 12 inches.”  This makes me fuck him harder.  I want to be there to see a true monster cock in this great ass.  But I can’t do it.  I can’t last.  Me.  The guy who fucks for hours…this hole has brought me off in ten minutes.  I shoot.  I shoot like I haven’t shot since I got to town two weeks ago.  It feels like I go on and on and on.  His ass is milking me and he is grunting obscenities as I spasm into his hole.  I collapse on his back.  I stay there for a long moment.  Then slide down, my cock pulling out of his hole, leaving a trail of now five mixed cum loads.  My tongue attacks his sloppy crack.

We both hit the poppers and I make a meal of his ass.  He calls me every name in the book.  “You are such a twisted fucker.”  I leave just enough cum to act as lube for the mega cock to come. 

But I am suddenly tired.  I might actually sleep tonight.  I pull up my pants and go home. 

Sated. 

Completely.

Bookstore Sub

Upstate New York—January, 2013

I walked into the closest bookstore to my temporary home and realized that I had no singles.  Nothing but fives in my wallet and there was no way I was going to use one of those in the arcade.  I walked to the other end of the store.  The incredibly hot (and incredibly straight) cashier was waiting on a customer.  He was ringing up condoms, lube, a gay movie rental and something I couldn’t see already in the plain bag—all for a good looking customer.  The customer was maybe eight inches shorter than me and a good eight years younger.  He had a shaved head and piercings in his ears.  His flannel shirt showed around the collar of his shiny blue winter coat.  He turned to me for a moment as I stepped up in line behind him. His smile was nice.  He glanced down for a second, scoping out my bulge.  I smiled.  Our eyes connected for a moment.  He paid for his purchases for what looked like date night with his boyfriend.  He headed to the back door as I got my change.

 I walk the circle of booths.  I push open a door.  Nothing.  Someone has gotten off with a lot of time left on his movie. I can see the puddle of semen on the floor.   I watch the screen for a moment as two leather guys are fucking.  Then I move down to the only other door which is ajar and showing an occupied light above the entrance.  It’s him.  The customer.  He didn’t go out the back door, but ducked in here.  To wait for me, it seems.  His pants are around his ankles.  His stubby, but thick, cock is in his fist.  He grins, nervously.  I smile.

“Lock the door,” he whispers.  “Show me that big bulge.”

I slide the lock shut and dump my coat on the floor.  I undo my belt and unzip. My cock is swelling at the thought of this man taking home my cum, either in his stomach or deep in his gut, to his boyfriend.  He kneels in front of me and takes it down his throat.  All the way.  No pause.  The perfect deepthroat.  The suction is perfect.  His throat muscles start to milk me.  And his hands go involuntarily behind his back, clasped in the position of submission.  It’s all the cue I need.

“Suck me, boy,” I whisper.  “Take it to the root again.”  I shove forward slightly.  His mouth ovals and he does as I ask.  He keeps it there for longer than I expect.  When he finally pulls back, long and glistening strips of spittle hang in an arc from my cockhead to his mouth.  I grab at them, and smear the slime on his face.  His breathing becomes rapid.  I think for a moment he might shoot.  I grab the base of my cock and slap his face with it.  His cheek.  The other.  His nose.  His open mouth as he sticks out his tongue.  He’s making noises in the back of his throat that only make me harder.

“Thank you, Sir.”

I push my cock back into his throat.  He ovals.  I grab his ears and begin a slow face fuck.  After a moment he signals a pause.  I do.  He grabs his bag of purchases and opens a new bottle of Rush.  Ah, the other purchase.  He huffs—and signals for me to really go at it.

I do.  And he’s great.  No teeth at all, even as I batter his mouth and throat.  Finally, I slow and pull out.  Another long string of throat snot connects us.  I gather it up.  He raises his face expectantly, but I reach down behind him.  I find his hole and insert the slippery mix up into his ass.

He’s whimpering.  For a moment I think he might cry.  “Sir, I want that.  Really.  But I can’t.”

I look into his eyes. 

A long moment.

I nod.

I bend low, right to his ear.  “But let me eat it.”

He scrambles around to lean against the bench.  His ass is furry.  The crack is a forest of wiry hair.  I pull his cheeks apart and begin exploring his pucker with my tongue.   He takes a hit of poppers and passes them back to me.  I huff some and then spend what seems like hours, chewing, spitting and tonguing his hole.  I only stop when my knees begin to hurt.

“I’d love your load, Sir.”  He swings around, crawling back on the floor in front of me.  I slowly jerk my cock.

“Lick my balls, boy.  Clean them with your tongue.” 

He does.  Slow and lovingly.  Working deep to include my perineum. 

Suddenly I’m there.  “Open,” I choke out.

I shoot a nice arc of cum.  It lands directly on his extended tongue.  The next shot hits his chin.  The next one is wasted on the floor.  He dives for my dick head so as not to miss another shot.  It’s all I can do to let him suckle the last few drops out of my overly sensitive cock.  But I do.  I can feel him swallowing every drop.

I pull out.  No need for the fast food napkin in my coat.  I’m not remotely sticky.  But he is.  I look down. 

The floor is covered with his cum. 

 ******************************************************************

There was talk about my sharing his hole with his Sir.  But nothing ever came of it….

 

 

Faking It

Just into Pennsylvania—January, 2013

He had a special request:  “Tie me down, stretch my asshole and fuck me as hard as you can.”  His pictures looked hot:  a good six feet tall with a broad chest and dark hair and those chiseled facial features of old Hollywood.  He works a small family farm.  He gave me no name, just an address.  I packed my wrist and ankle restraints with a couple of other toys and quickly crossed the state line into the hills of Pennsylvania. 

He is standing at the door waiting for me.  I walk up to the side entrance with my bag.  He is dressed in nothing but sweat pants.  He actually looks hotter than his pictures.  He holds the collar of a rather nasty looking Doberman who is growling at me through the storm door.  He pulls him back into his small kitchen and gestures me in.

“The bedroom is round the corner.  I’ll lock him in the den.”  I find the small, wood paneled bedroom.  The double bed takes up almost all the space.  I set my bag down on the low dresser.  He has tied rope to the four corners of the bed.  How thoughtful.  And nice to have a man who knows what he wants.  I am stripped to my jock, leather wristband and am putting my boots back on as he comes into the room.  I am sitting on the corner of the bed.  I spread my legs and point to the floor between my legs.  He kneels on the old shag carpet without a word.  He pulls back the pouch of my jock.  My cock springs out, hitting his chin.  “Shit.  You’re huge.”

“You saw my pics.” 

“I don’t know if I can take it.” 

“Shut up and suck it.”

He does.  But it’s not what he loves.  It’s all about his hole—I can tell from his half-hearted deepthroat technique.

I reach into my bag and pull out the wrist restraints.  I take his right hand off of my balls, and wrap the leather around his wrist.  The Velcro holds it in place as I tighten down the strap and buckle it shut.  His eyes shine as I reach for his left.   I repeat the process.

“Stand up.”  I slap the mattress next to me.  “Put your foot up here.” I add a restraint to each ankle.  “Now get your ass on the bed.”  He crawls up.  “Stay on all fours.”  He does and I kneel behind his full ass.  My tongue hits his hole.  He groans.  He tastes fresh from the shower.  I could eat his muscle butt all day. 

But he wants my cock.  “Just fuck me, Sir.” 

I stand.  My hard cock slaps his right butt cheek.  I push my drooling head down his entire ass crack, matting the hair there.  I bend over long enough to lick him clean and then begin working my head into his hole.

“Oh, fuck.”  He moans a continuous litany of profanity and pleadings to go slow.

I am in.  Far easier than his vocals suggest.  I hold my cock in place for a minute.  Then I pull it all the way out and fuck it all the way back in in one movement.  He grunts.  I continue to fuck, pulling my entire length out until just the head of my dick is left in him and then slam it home.  After a few minutes, he flattens out on the bed.  I pull out and yank his leg over to the rope.  I tie his left leg to the D ring on the restraint.  Then his right leg, then both his arms.  He’s is spread-eagled before me.  I fuck back into him.

“Fuck, you’re too big.”

“You wanted your hole stretched, right?”  No answer.  “Right??”

“Yes.”  I slam my cock into him.  “Yes, SIR.”

I continue grinding into him.  When I want to catch my breath, I pull out and reach into the bag.  I root around until I find the speculum.  The stainless steel is cold from the trip here.

“You want your hole stretched?”  I ask as I grease it up.  I let it rest for a moment on his butt cheek. 

“What is that?”  He can’t turn his head around enough to see it.

“You’ll be able to tell in a minute.”

I slip it into his fucked hole.  “Shit, that’s cold.”  I begin to slowly crank it open.  “That’s huge,” he groans.  A twist of the screw.  He moans again.  In a new way.  I think he really likes it.  Another slight twist to widen it another millimeter, and he is back to telling me it’s too big.  I don’t make it much wider; I run my finger over his exposed prostate.  He shudders.  “Please….”

I crank it shut slowly.  Remove it.  I lean over and spit into his stretched hole.  I get a knee on either side of his ass so I can fuck straight down into his hole.  I enter him.  And long dick him.

“Fuck, Sir.  I can’t take any more.”  It’s barely been 20 minutes. “Just cum and be done.”

No words turn me off faster.  Any steam I am building up evaporates.  He keeps up this new litany.  I make a quick decision. 

It’s my turn to grunt.  I thrust.  I groan.  I shudder.  I totally fake an orgasm.  I pull out. I am done with his attitude.  I hate playing with guys who tell me what they want, but when they get it, it’s all been in their head.   

I untie him. 

He sits on the bed as I dress.  “You’re the biggest cock I’ve ever taken.”

“Thanks,” I murmur and reach for my coat.  I get out the door while the Doberman howls in the next room. 

I head to the nearest bookstore.  I have a great orgasm down the throat of some man who I can’t picture now at all.

 

 

Pissing in the Cold

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Bookstores in New York

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