Wednesday, October 23, 2013

The Cellar

Toronto—August, 2013

My trip to Canada was almost over.
Each morning that I was in the Niagara area, I would finish breakfast and go to the public library to take advantage of their internet connection.  There was never anyone online in that area, but guys from Toronto would often chat with me.  There was one man who struck up a conversation with me each morning.  He was fascinated by my screen name and wanted to meet, so I could put both the felching and the pissing into action.  In his hole. 

We had talked enough that I broke down and said I would go home (out of my way) back through Toronto.  He didn’t want to piss at his apartment, so I suggested we meet at the Cellar, the sleaziest of the bathhouses.  He agreed.  I finished up in Niagara by late afternoon, and arrived in TO right on time at 8:00pm.

It’s dark in the corridors—so dark I can barely see.  I wind through the dingy halls, turn a corner and finally find my room.  It’s small with the regulation bed, locker and a shuttered gloryhole in the door.  The grilled window in the top of the door, reminding me of a 1920’s speakeasy, is open.  I leave it.  I know I’ll want to show off tonight.

I change into my harness and combat boots.  I’ve told him he’ll find me by the yellow jock.  I arrange my swelling, cock ringed dick into the distended pouch.  I add the leather wrist band to my left wrist.  I get out my travel lube and stick it in the waistband of my jock.  I leave the poppers on the shelf by the bed.  I lock the locker and head out to find the eager Hole.
He’s not there.  I check the time.  He’s 30 minutes late.  I sigh.  And turn my attentions to who has come out on a Thursday night.  Not very many, it turns out.  On a quick cruise through the halls I count about eight men. 

I go to the back hallway.  There is not a trace of light.   I feel my way along the back wall until I bump into someone.  A totally anonymous hand squeezes the bulge in my jock.  I reach out and find a nipple, then it slips away as the mystery man kneels.  He pulls my jock to one side and takes me to the root.  Christ, he’s good.  It’s perfect suction, the perfect amount of tongue.   I find his ears, hold him in place and fuck into his mouth.  He grunts his satisfaction.
Other men reach for me.   I have hands on my chest.  Another on my ass.  I bat away the finger that is trying to squirm up my ass.  A mouth is on my right nipple.  He kisses his way down to kneel beside the cocksucker.  I pull out of one mouth and plunge it into the other.  This new guy is not as good, but I spend quite some time pulling it out of one mouth and feeding it to the other.  The best moment is feeding it to the great cock sucker and letting the other man work on my balls.

When I don’t shoot, the guys eventually move on.  I make a circuit of the facility and end up back in the hallway.  It’s still deserted.  I see a flicker of light in front of me.  A man has opened a gloryhole from his room.  I move forward.  I shove my cock through it.  I am instantly swallowed.  Oh, yeah.  It’s the great cocksucker.  Of course he’d ask for the only room that has a gloryhole opening to the dark area.
We play off and on for most of the night.

There are new arrivals. 
I jerk in wide open video area.  I have several mouths taste my cock out in the open.

I work a public gloryhole sucking two different cocks.
Then the right man walks in.  I don’t see him until he emerges from his room.  His boots clomp toward the video area where I am sitting.  He is mid-30’s, with strong, sharp features and closely cropped dark hair.  He is dressed in chaps and harness.  His biceps are the size that makes me feel weak.  Our eyes lock.  I get up and go to my room.  He follows me. 

We kiss, leaving the door open.  He begins chewing my pits, made fragrant from all the play.  Then it’s back to kissing me with that acrid taste on his tongue. 
“Get on the bed,” I say hoarsely.

He does.  On all fours.  His full ass perfectly framed by the chaps.  I kneel behind him and sink my face into that ass. It’s totally hairless.  I dig into his pucker.  He groans.  I grab the poppers off the shelf and toss them to him.  I can hear him huff and I drill my tongue as deep as possible into him.
I stand up and slap his ass with my cock.  “Wait,” he grunts out.  I stop.  “I want to eat your hole first.”  I pull him up.  We kiss.  He loves the taste of his ass on my tongue.  He pushes me down on the bed, on my back.  My feet rest flat against the wall.  He kneels and spits on my asshole.  He scoops it up and swallows it down.  It’s my turn to huff the poppers.  His tongue drills me.  I go very verbal, calling him names and telling him to eat me.  Faces appear at the door to stroke and watch.

My partner stands up.  He has a raging hard-on.  For a moment I think he wants to fuck me.  But he pulls me up and kisses me.  Then he whispers in my ear, so the guys watching can’t hear.  “Fuck me raw—but cum on my face.”
I nod.  He gets back on all fours.  I rim briefly, but I want into his ass.  It doesn’t disappoint.  He’s hot and wet.  And tight.  He squeezes down.  I wonder if I’m going to be able to keep my promise to not shoot up his hole.  I press into him slowly.

“Fuck him,” says someone in the door.
I start my accelerated fuck.  He is groaning, hitting the poppers.  His hard cock is being worked by his hand. 

I fuck him hard.  The guys in the door egg us on.
It’s by chance that I notice that he’s shot all over the floor of my room and on the toe of my boot.    He wiggles out from under me and flips onto his back.  He spins around, so his head is under my cock.  I push my cock, which was moments ago in his ass, into his mouth.  His drooling dick, spits more cum into his pubes.  I pull out of his mouth and jerk.  The first splatter hits his chest, but the next one I can direct into his wide open mouth.  I cover his nose, chin, and tongue.

I lean against the wall, my lungs gasping for air.  My partner sits up, looks at me and brings his cummy mouth to mine.  We kiss.
I look over by the door.  No one is there now.   But there are two distinct pools of cum on the black linoleum.


  1. Hot. And good thing you arranged to meet at the Cellar. Otherwise, you might have gone out of your way just to knock on an unrelenting closed door.

    1. You are right. I was kinda thinking of that potential outcome when I suggested the Cellar, but not really. I'm thinking now, that even he might have been thinking that. He wrote me two days after--saying next time I was in town we'd fuck at his house. Right......