Near Home—May, 2015
After meeting up with
Derrick, I went to IML that weekend.
Faithful readers should remember my daily posts about fucking in the
host hotels, the IML piss party and making some more porn.
I didn’t need to play
when I got home. Nothing. Not until the very last Saturday of May did I
venture out to the bookstore.
It was an odd night.
There is excitement in the air from the moment I walk into
the store. Buying my ticket to the
cinemas, I hear two guys behind me talking in hushed tones about the eminent arrival
of “this woman.” One of the cute, fully
straight guys I know by sight stops me on the way to the theatre. He pulls me aside and tells me to be prepared
for the best blow job tonight. “She has
the hottest mouth.”
Not surprisingly the straight theatre—newly in the larger
space—is packed. I take the last chair.
And we wait. Most of
us stroking to some hot anal porn.
The door opens. A man
I’ve never seen announces “They’re here.”
We wait.
In they come. Husband
and wife: both pushing 60 or more and
absolutely dumpy. He is in Bermuda shorts
and an open shirt of a tropical print.
His wife is in a denim wrap around shirt and a buttoned up white
blouse. Two guys in the middle of the
row opposite me get up and make room for them to sit together. The husband kneads his cock through the
fabric of his shorts for a moment and tells the assembled room that she will
suck off any and every man there. “Don’t
be shy. We travelled quite a ways to get
here.”
One of the men who gave up his seat is right there. He’s unzipped and ready.
And she goes to work.
I can’t tell much about her technique, but knowing some of these guys, I
know they have no fuse at all—they shoot the moment they are in a wet
mouth. And sure enough, he quietly grunts
and is gone.
She unbuttons the top button of her blouse and does numbers
two and three.
She unbuttons more, showing off a rather worn, dis-colored bra.
Four, five and six.
She pauses and takes a slug of water from the bottle her
husband hands her.
Seven. One man can’t
decide—then stands up gives her his dick.
Eight.
She has done everyone in the room save for me and a chronic
jacker.
The cute guy who gave me the heads up finally comes into the
room and unzips. It’s nice to see his
cock hard.
He gives her a work out, but finally gives her a load. He sighs contentedly and zips up. Nine.
“You should let her service that big ‘un of yours.”
I shake my head. The
husband turns to the jerker—who panics and races out of the room unzipped.
They wait. And
wait. The husband occasionally looks at
the screen. She drinks more water. When it is clear that they have cleaned out the
theatre, they adjust their clothing and head out the door.
I head over to the gay side, thinking I might find a group
of men who weren’t interested in what I just witnessed. There is just one. But the right one: The tall slender top who stealthed my friend
the other week. His long and thin cock
is out. I go down on him. He groans in pleasure. Something that was almost universally missing
from the marathon next door.
He pulls me off his cock.
I stand and he unbuttons my pants.
He must be horned---he blows me for a change. And he’s good. I fuck his face for a bit—holding his head
still.
“Eat my ass like you did that tramp’s the other night.”
He leans into a chair and I fall to my knees. Getting his ass eaten really excites
him. His jerking accelerates. I eat him out until my knees can’t take the hard
linoleum any longer. I stand up, making
sure my hard cock brushes his ass, hoping…
“Sit down.” He wants
to be in charge. I let him. And sit.
He stands on my seat, straddling my lap.
For a second I think he’s going to sit on my dick, but instead he begins
fucking my mouth.
And he’s not silent when he shoots down my throat…
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