Thursday, September 29, 2016

Kurt Takes On the Room--Part II--The Aftermath

Near Home—August, 2016

This picks up from where the last post left off when I was left alone in the gay theatre after Kurt’s orgy…


I sit and watch the movie.

A new man walks in.  He’s built, blond and with striking good looks.  I guess he’s in his early 40’s.  He looks at me, sitting in the chair to my right.  He turns to me.  “A guy in the arcade says you feed piss.  Got any?”

“Not quite yet.”  I deliberately open my water bottle and take a hefty swig.  “But soon.”

“Can I suck that thing ‘til you do?”  He points at my cock, which has a new pearl of pre-cum on the slit.

“Sure.”

He gets on his knees between my legs and makes a dive for cock.

“Whoa.”  I push back against his shoulder and look him in the eye.  “Lick the jizz off first.  Savor it.”
His whole demeanor changes.  He takes my cock in both his hands and almost reverently licks my piss slit.  He grunts under his breath at the taste of my pre-cum.  He squeezes my shaft and another drop appears.  He touches it with his tongue and then pulls his head back.  The pre-cum forms a pearly strand.  Just before it breaks, his head dives back down and he engulfs my wet dick.

It’s my turn to grunt.   He’s the kind of cock sucker you hope for.  He understands protecting my big flared head from his teeth.  He knows about suction.  About spit.  About verbal appreciation as my cock keeps leaking.  I can only guess it’s from years of parking himself on the other side of any gloryhole he can find.

He pulls off me.  “That’s a great dick.”  He swallows hard.  “Fuck my mouth.”

I stand up.  I grab him by the ears and hold him still.  “Open.”  I don’t need to tell him what to do, but he responds with a whimper in the back of his throat.  That’s all I need.  I go into Dom Top mode.  I hold him with my left hand, and slap my wet shaft against this cheek.  One side, then the other.  

“Stick out your tongue.”  He does.  I slap it two times before I shove into his wet mouth.

I fuck into him—short strokes at first.  Soon I lengthen them.  Then the test: to the root.  I grind my bushy pubes into his nose.  He takes me all.  And again.  This time he gags.  And he loves it.

“Again,” he grunts as I pull out.  “All of it.”

I give it to him again to the hilt.  And once more.  This time he gags on the third stroke and pulls off me, panting like he’s run a marathon.

“Lick my balls.”

He moves forward and does great tongue action on the sack.  I want it on the right where they join my body. 

“Get your tongue between my balls and my cock ring.”  I force his head down and thrust my pelvis forward.  He finds my spot.  He licks me.  Avidly.  Not just there.  But everywhere.  Leaving me damp.  I sit back down and he knee walks into place to suck all the hair under my balls as dry as he can get it.  His tongue flirts with a descent to my hole.   Down the crack for a bit, but he stops himself just short of tonguing my ass.  He goes back to the base of my cock.

He starts to rear up to suck me again.

“Wait.” 

He freezes. 

“I have something for you.”  I stand up and let my cock rest on his lip.

“Give it to me.”  He knows what’s coming.  “Give me your piss.  Make me your piss whore.”

I will myself to piss.  It takes a second for my body to respond—but it does.  I start spurting piss into his mouth.  He gurgles happily and takes me all down.  When I finish, I thrust into his mouth again.  I hold still and let him go into his cocksucking routine.  He concentrates on sucking the last of piss out of the slit, then cleaning the head and then the shaft.

He pulls off me, holding my dick in one hand right at the base.  Tight.  So it is at its most swollen and red. “Fuck, I want that thing up my ass.”

I’ve been hoping for this moment.  “Sure.”

“But I can’t.  I just came here today to suck a lot of dick.  I’m not…you know…ready.”

Damn.  But I say—truthfully—“That’s a shame.  But better you tell me than I find out.”

“Yeah.”  He nods.  Pleased I don’t seem to want to just end it.  “Drink up, man.”

I sit and chug my water.  He opens his fly, for the first time, to stroke a swollen dick.  He spits in his hand as he leans in and takes me into his mouth.

The next 20 minutes is all about his sucking my cock and balls and his almost rimming my hairy hole again.  Surprisingly, we are alone that entire time. 

I need to change it up.  “Show me that ass you want me to fuck.”

“But…”

“Just show it to me.”

He stands up and unbuckles his belt.   He’s commando under his khakis.  They drop to the floor.  It’s a good sized dick, but I want to see his butt.

“Turn.”

He does.  It’s a full ass—and as gym built as the rest of him—and downy with blond fuzz. 

I slip out of the chair and onto my knees. “Lean on the chair.”  He does.  Jutting that butt out in front of me.  My hands touch it.  I stroke.  I run my fingers down the crack. 

“Sir, I’m just not deep cleaned, but…”

That’s all I need to hear.  I spread his cheeks and inch forward.  My tongue connects.  Right on his hole.  The shock for him is electric.  He jumps—but just as quickly he grinds back onto my tongue.  He tastes great.  And all the hair is driving me crazy.  I get him good and wet.  All I can think about is how hot it would be to fuck him, but I’m good.  I settle for the oral banquet he’s providing.  I reach forward and grab his hard cock.  I pull it down and back.  I hunker down and swab the dripping head with my tongue.  I don’t swallow, but go back up to his hole and push it into him.

“Fuck,” he whimpers.

I finally stop rimming.  I’ll fuck him and be damned if I keep on.  And I have to piss anyway.

“Knees!” 

He senses my urgency and spins around, kneeling before me.  I get my cock in his mouth just as the flow begins.  He gurgles it down. 

“Don’t swallow it all,” I tell him.  “Save some in your mouth.”

When I stop, I pull him up by the armpits.  “Kiss me.” 

He does.  And yellowballs the remains of my piss into my mouth.  I push some back into his.  He squirms in my embrace and shoots his load all over my cock and balls.


I push him down to the floor.  “Clean it up.”  His tongue finds the biggest blob of cum on my nut sack.  But I push his head back and fire my built up load into his open mouth.

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Thursday, September 22, 2016

While the Wife's Away

The Town Next to Mine—August, 2016

After my rest area recognition, I went home, ate dinner and got ready for the party.  It was being hosted by Cam, the top man who usually tosses these gatherings in various local motels.  His wife has been gone for most of the summer and he has the house to himself.  I tossed some lube in my gym bag, my wrist band—as if no one would know I’m a top—and a towel.  I set off on a dark, starless night.  I had no idea who would be there—or how many men had been invited.


I find his house easily.  It seems very dark, but that may be for the neighbor’s benefit.  I know to just walk in the side door.  I do.  No one is around.  There is porn playing on the living room television. I see lube on an end table.  I look into the bedroom where we play when we aren’t in the living room.  No one.  I put down my bag and look around.  Is there a basement I don’t know about?  I don’t see a logical door.  I go back out into the kitchen.  A door there is ajar—opposite the door I entered.  I open it.  Three naked men are outside in the enclosed yard.  All drinking out of huge plastic cups and idly feeling up their own dicks as one of them smokes a cigarette. 

Cam waves a welcome.  He tells me to go in and strip down.  He soon joins me in the living room as I strip off my jeans and shows me another way to join them outside—as the door I used is in full view of a neighbor.  I go out the preferred way, dressed in my jock, through the garage.  I know the other top—he is the thin ginger man, about my age, who has appeared in these pages.  I don’t know the bottom—he’s a new favorite of Cam’s.  He’s in his early 50’s, with dark blond hair cut quite short.  He carries his extra weight fairly well.  And he has a hairy chest.  Nice.

But they are much more interested in their drinks right now than sex.  I chat a bit, then go in and look at the 1990’s porn on the television.  Did I really find this hot back then?  There is very little true passion—and a lot of perfectly coiffed, immovable hair.

The tall thin top joins me.  He’s ready to fuck, too.  We sit side my side and try to stroke to the porn.  Soon his mouth is on me.  When he comes up for air, I go down on him.  He oozes some pre-cum into my mouth. 

I pull off him.  “Let me eat your ass.”

He loves this.  He kneels on the sofa, supporting his himself holding on the back.  He juts out his bony butt at me.  I find his hole with my tongue.  He groans.  I eat and stroke myself happily.

“Sit on my face.”  I lie down on the floor, a pillow under my head.  He happily sits down, keeping his full weight off me.  I tongue his deeply.  He presses down.  He cuts off my air.  I tap his thighs to tell him to get up so I can breathe. 

No response.

I do it again.

Still no response and now I really can’t breathe.  I twist my head and catch a breath.  I push him up.  He reacts like he’s been asleep.  Odd.  I get up as the others come in.

“There’s another bottom coming,” Cam tells us.  He names a name I don’t know.

“I’m not going to fuck him,” the tall thin top tells us.  “I don’t even want to be in the same room with him.”

He grabs the current bottom and all but drags him into the bedroom.  Cam and I look at each other as we hear sounds of frenzied fucking in the bedroom.  Just as we are about to go join them, we hear the sounds of the tall thin top ejaculating.

He is dressed and gone in moments. 

I go into the bedroom.  “Let me taste his load in your ass.”

“Oh, yeah—Cam told me you liked to do that.  Go for it.  Eat me out.”

I hunker down behind the man still on all fours.  He’s dripping—full of seed.  My tongue snakes out.  I clean up all the spillage.  Then I start drilling deeper into his hole.  I add my cock to really open his hole.  When I pull it out, this makes a gush of seed rush out and I lean down to catch it on my tongue.
This is the first time in weeks I have done anything like this…it’s too much. 

I blow my load all over the bed. 

*****

The new bottom arrives.  He looks like an out of shape Harley guy.  They talk about the quick departure of the other top.  It’s too gossipy for me.  But as I dress, they also talk about how earlier that night the top had had a mini black-out while fucking—like he just checked out for a few moments. 

I think back to his unresponsive, heaviness on my face. 


I wonder…

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Hot Pants and Bermuda Shorts

Rural Rest Area Near Home—August, 2016

I was invited to a sex party on a Saturday night.  It was late enough so I could actually go.  The afternoon before the party, I was able to stop at the rural rest area after taking several departing employees to the airport…

I pull in.  It’s always cooler here with the trees and a breeze.  The first person I see is the camisole and panty man from the bookstore.  Today he is in the same camisole with a pair of hot pink short shorts.  He sees me and drops his McDonald’s bag disdainfully into the trash can.  He gets into his little sports car and peels out of the parking lot.

At the moment there is only one other man here.  He wanders over to my driver’s side window.  I recognize him now—I’ve seen him in years past but not this year.  He leans on the car to chat.  He carefully unzips his loud Bermuda shorts and pulls out a rather undersized salami.

“It’s good to finally see you again,” he says as he brazenly strokes his meat.  It hardens—not a centimeter longer.  “The pickin’s have been lousy here this summer.  You’ve been missed.” 

“Well, good to know I’m needed.”

At that moment a semi brakes noisily out on the road.  My personal flasher just has time to cover himself before the trucker pulls in.  I watch the loud shorts waddle away to his car and slink down into his seat so it looks like he’s asleep.

I have a party—I don’t need to wait around. 

I head home. 


With a smile on my face.

Saturday, September 17, 2016

A Bookstore First

Near Home—August, 2016

After all the great fucking I got to do on my last trip to the bookstore, I shouldn’t have been surprised that the next trip would be all oral.  The only time I could go was on a Friday afternoon, which I thought might be quite active, but with an older crowd.   I was right on both counts.  But I did do something that afternoon that I don’t think I had never done at a bookstore before…


The straight side is alive with action.  None of it straight.  I stand, pressed against the door.  I can’t get to a chair.  There is a willowy man with a grey ponytail, dressed in a pink camisole and flowered panties, giving head to a big beefy truck driver type on the back couch.  Sitting next to the beefy guy, is a man who seems very shy.  He can’t take his eyes off the blow job happening at his elbow.  All the while he is squeezing his cock through his pants.  Another man is standing plastered to the wall receiving a sloppy, loud blow job from a man kneeling in front of him.  There are at least three other men with their cocks out, jerking to the scene.

I knead my own growing mound in my pants.  I step over men’s legs and  pick a pathway to a vacant chair—right by where the man in the lingerie is working.  And talking. 

“Your cock,” he says to the trucker, “is harder than my grandma’s dumplings.”

The man he’s sucking grunts, and pushes the cock suckers head back down on his dick.

“Look at this one,” one of the men jerking says to the lingerie guy when he next comes up for air.  
“It’s huge.”  He points to me.

Lingerie Guy swivels on his platform shoes to look at me.

“Mercy, that could choke a hippo, big mouth and all.”  He laughs.  No one else does.  “But I’d give it my girlish all.”

The trucker has had enough.  In fact, once he’s seen me, I am pretty sure he recognizes me as the man who has swallowed his load (with no talking) many other times.  He pushes the Lingerie Guy away—who moves on to one of the jerking guys near the door.  Trucker comes over to me and, wordlessly, sticks his wet dick in my mouth.

He cums in no time, zips up and departs.

Lingerie Guy is keeping up the patter after he’s gotten a quick load.  This time about how semen might fatten up his girlish figure.  The watcher—the one who’d been sitting next to the trucker—comes over to me.

“May I try sucking that before he...” and he indicates the guy in the lingerie “...gets to you?”

I nod. 

He gets on his knees and does a very nice job.  Until he spits out any trace of precum he might of gotten in his mouth.  He thanks me and leaves.

“Well, look who is getting some head.”  Lingerie Guy is in front of me.  “If I asked nicely would you give a girl a treat?”

I nod.

LG goes down on me.  Teeth everywhere.  I can’t believe it.  This guy has likely blown half the city and he still doesn’t know the basics. 

I thank him.  He goes happily to his next hapless victim—a guy who doesn’t know any better.

*****

It’s a karma suck.  He’s very old and by himself, watching gay porn.  I ask if he wants me to suck him.  He nods—eyes lighting up.  It’s little more than a cock head—no shaft at all.  He shakes violently, moments after he feels my tongue.  There is no jizz, but he is incredibly happy and thanks me profusely.

*****

It’s one of those days that I let anyone who offers to go down on me do it.  Most are good.  These men are experienced.

A thick set man in his middle 60’s comes in.  He nods at me.  I nod back.  He’s an old suck bud.  He gets his thick dick out and kneels before me.  He spends long moments buried in my crotch.  Then it’s my turn.  As I suck his cock he scoots his ass forward on the chair.  It’s his invitation for me to eat his ass.  I do, getting my legs under his chair so I can do it properly.  I eat and spit.  Soon I add my finger.  He starts jerking, letting his wet cock head hit my forehead or cheek with each stroke.

“I’m cumming.”  I move up and get all of his load.

*****

I am back on the straight side.  The place is pretty much cleared out.  A new man, one I don’t recognize, is stroking a decent sized cock as he sits on the couch.  I sit next to him.  Soon enough we each have the other’s dick in our hand. 

He bends and tastes me.   He’s good.

I bend and taste him.  He’s a pre-cummer.  I spend a long time down there.

I sit back up.

“I’m Victor.  You are…?”

I tell him my name.

He begins telling me that he’s mostly gay, but very bi.  He knows a straight swinging couple he wants to introduce me to—“She’d love this dick.”  He puts my contact info into his phone.  And takes a picture of me, fully tumescent.  (The couple has never gotten back with their procurer.)

We talk about kinks.  I mention felching and piss and fisting.  He talks about bondage and restraints.  This makes him super hard and he goes back down on me.  Forever.  But a nice forever.  Neither of us are worried about getting off.

I switch to the sucking. 

He’s not as hard now.  “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“I have to go piss.”  He starts up and stops, his hand on the door knob.  “Would you drink it?”

“As long as you don’t do any of the party drugs.”

“Naw,” he comes and stands over me.  “It’s all ice tea and water.”

I slip to my knees.  His soft dick goes into my mouth.  I don’t touch it with my tongue.  He can’t seem to start the flow.  Without warning, he’s suddenly flooding my mouth.  It’s great—and I am swallowing as fast as I can.  I’m not going to have spillage in here.  He releases a torrent of piss that finally subsides just as I don’t think I could take much more.  His cock fully erects again in my mouth.

“That was so hot.  I’ve never done that.  I want to try drinking sometime, too.”  The thought sends him over the edge.  My tongue is now coated with his cum.  I lick the head clean and get off my knees.

Amazingly, after his cum shot, he doesn’t pick up and go.  He drops to his knees.  He’s determined to get me off.  He works diligently and well, but my cum shot seems to recede.

“What would get you off?” he asks. 

“Let me rim you.” 

“Yes!  I never get enough tongue up my butt.”

“Turn over.”

“Wait.  I have more piss for you.”

I take it.  It’s a short spurt.  I leave it in my mouth.

Victor flops on the couch—ass up and waiting.  I drizzle some of the piss from my mouth down his ass crack.

“You nasty fucker!   Eat my hole.”


I dive in, tasting his warm ass and warmer piss.  It sends me over the edge after the long evening.  I spurt rope after rope of cum all over his well tongued ass.

Thursday, September 15, 2016

The Best Asses at the Bookstore

Near Home—July, 2016

My last trip to the bookstore in July…

My eyes are riveted to the scene going on behind me.  I am sitting in the gay cinema.  My friend (who loves to eat my hole and fuck anyone younger than himself) is in the back corner.  The cute Latino bottom has just walked through the door.  When he sees who is in the corner, he stays right there, feigning an interest in the video.  My friend moves forward and hugs the Latino, grinding his fully clothed pelvis against the fully clothed ass of the cute one.

I take a swig of water.  It refreshes the taste of the three loads I’ve swallowed so far tonight.  I take another swig to cleanse my palette.  I want to be ready for what’s happening behind me.  My friend has reached around and is unbuttoning the waist band of the Latino’s shorts.  Now the zipper.  They slip to his calves.  The designer briefs are light colored and contrast beautifully with the darker skin of the wearer.  My friend grinds his pelvis against the ass in front of him.  He then turns the Latino around and pulls him into a kiss, pelvis grinding against newly exposed pelvis.

My friend steps back.  He undoes his jeans.  His seven inches spring out.  He’s commando tonight and hard.  He bends the boy in front of him onto his cock.  The Latino sucks and groans contentedly.
Then it comes.  The signal I was hoping for.  My friend crooks his finger and beckons me to join.  He points to the mound of underwear-covered Latino ass.  I get up and kneel behind the boy.  I peel the underwear off his ass.  He barely registers that I’m there before going back to sucking.  I spread his cheeks and my tongue touches his hole.  He moans around the cock in his mouth.

“Eat him out,” hisses my buddy.  “Get him wet for our dicks.”

I don’t need much encouragement.  I burrow into his lightly haired hole.  It flowers open.  My tongue goes deeper, licking the exposed pinkness.  The boy grinds back against me.  I hear his sloppy blowjob becoming more frenzied.  I lube my dick as I eat.

I stand up.  I spit in my palm and add it to the lube on my dick.  My friend reaches down and spreads the boy’s ass so he can watch me split him open.  I line up, my cock dripping.  I push in.  He takes the head with the first push.

“He’s too big to be first,” the boy whispers to my buddy.

“Shut up and take it, I’ve watched you take him before.”

I inch in.  The boy is distracted by the talking—and takes me to the root easily.

“I’m in.”

The boy grins and goes back to sucking.  And I start fucking. His ass is the perfect size and shape for my hips to make continual slapping noises.  The sound excites us all.

I slow down and pull out.  The boy turns and takes me in his mouth.  God, I love men who know and trust their clean out.  My buddy is up him and pumping.  Driving hard into the upturned butt.  I love the boy’s mouth—something I can never get enough of at this place.

I really want my buddy to blow first.  I think both the guys would get off on me felching the load.  And adding my own.

My Buddy pulls out.  “Your turn.” 

The Latino obediently spins around.  I enter him.  His hole has really loosened to accommodate us.  I start a new round of ass slapping fucking.

And the door buzzes.

The Latino tries to pull away.  We try to keep him in place, but we can’t. We are all standing side by side as the door opens and a nondescript man walks in.

The Latino pulls up his pants and bolts.  My friend follows with a “I’ll get him back.”

But he doesn’t.  I don’t see either again.

*****

I stay in the gay cinema.  Idly jerking.  The door opens.  I don’t bother to turn to see who it is.

“Put that beautiful dick back in my hole.”

I turn.  It’s the Footballer—the top who’s on PrEP.  He looks hotter than last time, if that’s possible.  I follow him to one of the booths we shouldn’t be in.

“Fuck me good,” he whispers.  “I loved taking your load home last time.”

He drops his pants and bends.  I eat this seccond hot hole.  This one hairy and muscular.

I want to fuck.  I can’t wait to get up him.

I push in.

“Fuck me hard,” he pants.  “No mercy.”

I do.


I get off deep inside this hot fuckin’ top.  I stay in place while he jerks himself off.  I love how his ass clenches around my spent dick as he spews all over the floor.

Sunday, September 11, 2016

Cruising Under the Hickory Trees

Rural Rest Area Near Home—July/August, 2016

After the good encounter with the trucker—the post I wrote up with his taste still in my mouth—I made time to get back to the rest area occasionally during my busy summer. 

I am sitting in my car, the radio tuned to the NPR station.  I am listening to the news at noon.   The rest area is busy.   A semi is parked behind me.  Two different pick-up trucks contain older farmers. I recognize them both as potential trade.  The semi driver has been napping.  He wakes and gets out of his cab.  He strides past me on the way to the pit toilets.  He’s early 40’s and I can’t help but notice that his muscular arms, sticking out of his dark T-shirt, are defined and hairy.  His jeans are tight, clinging to his ass.  He nods to me as he passes.  I watch him go into the men’s—not bothering to shut the door.

The old men in the trucks pay attention, too.

I wait.  The length of a good piss.

The trucker steps back out.  He stops in the glare of the light.  He squints as he turns his body in the direction of my vehicle.  And unmistakably squeezes his crotch.

I open my door.  My foot is on the ground.  I don’t care if the older guys watch us, but I’m sucking this guy off.

At that moment a minivan pulls into the lot.  It parks on the opposite side of where I’m parked and three kids and two mothers tumble out to claim the picnic table near the woman’s rest room.

I look at the trucker.  The pick-ups have already started their trucks and are gone.

I start walking to the trucker to suggest his cab.  He doesn’t wait for me to get near.  He lopes to his cab as one of the little boys runs screaming across the parking lot.  The trucker starts his engine with a huge diesel snort and is gone before I can get back to my car.

The play group is here to eat.  There is nothing to do but go home.

*****

Another day.  Around 1pm.

I have closed my eyes for a moment.  I have not seen a soul in the 30 minutes I’ve been here.
A semi roars into the lot.  I open my eyes.  It parks behind me.  I wait.

I hear the cab door open.  The driver gets out.  I have my windows open.  I can smell him before he passes.  And not in a good way.  The man is huge and unwashed.  His clothes are filthy.  He pays no attention to me, pisses and is gone.  Not looking  to play—no need to turn him down.

I sigh and go home.

*****

I am at the picnic table that is nearest the men’s room.  I am reading, sitting in the shade of the hickory trees.  A man drives in.  He looks familiar but I’m not sure.

Then I realize it’s a guy I used to play with regularly.  I would ask him to the playroom whenever I needed an extra cock for a load loving bottom.  He loved to seed whatever man I was fucking that day for my felching pleasure.  I thought he’d moved out of state.

But he’s here now.

We catch up.  I learn he’s back in town occasionally.  And horny.

We go behind the toilets.  He stands on the concrete foundation.  He opens his fly.  It’s a smaller than average dick, but he has big balls.

“I haven’t cum in a week,” he tells me.

“I’ll fix that.”

And I do.  In no time at all.  I swallow hungrily.  The first load I’ve had that week.

*****

Another day.  Listening to the news.

An older man drives in.  His car is huge.  He parks right next to me, country music flooding through his open windows.

“Good to see you,” he says, still in his car.

I turn off my radio and nod at him.  I remember him.  He was regular trade here two years ago.

“I could sure use your mouth.”

Direct and to the point.  I nod.   Then I’m out and locking my car.

It’s been a quiet day. I wait for him behind the building.  He’s a good 10 years older than I, maybe even 15.  His dress is what my dad would’ve called natty.  His cuffed tan pants are pressed.  So is his open shirt with its slightly tropical design.  His gray hair—and there’s a lot of it—is perfectly combed. His mustache is trimmed tightly.  He’s tanned.  And he has just opened his fly to show me his 7 thick inches of uncut dick.  His hygiene is just as impeccable as his dress.  He sighs as I take him into my mouth. 

Oh, I remember this guy.  He can’t get fully hard anymore.  But he loves my oral skills.

“You are the only guy I let do this to me,” he croons.

True or not, I re-double my effort to please this daddy.

In just moments he floods my mouth with gallons of cum.  He can’t stop shooting and I keep swallowing.  I am totally taken aback at the size of his load. 

He pats my head with his soft hands and almost whispers “Thank you, young man.” 

I stay on my knees, watching, as he takes a perfectly white handkerchief out of his back pocket and wraps his dick in it before he tucks it all back into his white briefs.

I could so easily become this man.  He rubs my head once more.  “You know how to do it right.” He heads to his massive, older car.

I stand up and swallow again. 


Still tasting him.

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Talking Sex

Near Home—July, 2016

It was Fourth of July weekend.  I had excused myself from the crowd of my fellow employees who were going out to watch fireworks—and I went out to create some fireworks of my own at the bookstore nearest my house.  I had no idea how many men would have the same idea…


I am kneeling in front of a man sitting in the gay theatre.  His legs are splayed—waiting for some oral attention.  He will be the fifth cock I’ve had in my mouth tonight.  I have already gotten two loads down my throat.  The only special thing about this man is that he has a hard dick—and tonight I want to suck any cock I can stick in my mouth.

I bend onto him.  I feel his hardness glide to the back of my throat.  I pull up once and—

“Damn…” he grunts out.

The man is shooting thick, ropy jizz into the back of my throat.  He pulls out of my mouth.  I try to lick the last drop off his piss slit, but he won’t let me.  He stands up, zips up and is gone.

I am alone now in the theatre.  The slight crush of activity when I arrived has stopped.  No one is anywhere—in either theatre or the arcade.  For at least 30 minutes.  And worse, it’s third rate, condomed porn.  I check the straight side again.  No one there and the porn is worse—a whole movie of women and dildos. 

I watch the twinks fuck on the screen.  I feel for them, their dicks flagging while fucking in tight latex wrappings.  No one on this set has thought to give these young men Viagra for the porn shoot.

The door buzzes.  In walks a short man I recognize from other nights.  I’m pretty sure we have never played.  He’s a little younger than I am and in decent shape.  He sits down next to the wall, opens his shorts (he’s commando underneath) and pulls out a decent enough dick.  But he can’t get it hard with this poor porn.

“This is terrible,” he mutters to me.  He quickly pulls up his shorts and goes out.  In moments the screen goes white as the disc is changed.  The door reopens as the new movie starts.  It’s one of the ones made by BBRT—a mix of amateurs and bareback porn stars.

“Now this should be better,” he announces as he sits back down and hauls out his hardening junk.
And it is.  It’s a hot enough movie for both our tastes.  I know this, for he never stops talking about it.

“Now that’s a cock.  I’d love that up my pussy.”

Or

“Look at that ass.  Eat it out, you pig."  (To the top on the screen, not me!) 

Or

“That cute hole deserves a creamy white load.”

Or

“Look at him take that raw dick.  Shove it up him, machofucker.”

Normally, I might be put off by the porn dialogue coming from the man next to me, but it’s doing a number on my dick.  I’m harder than earlier in the evening and dripping.

Finally, I ask him—“You want that cock sucked?”

“Naw,” he replies, “But I’ll do you.”

I agree—and it will shut him up.

But it doesn’t.  He has a comment on my girth or my hardness or my taste or my stamina after every lick or deep throat.

“You fuck with this thing?” he finally asks, pulling off me and rocking back on his heels.

“Sure.”

“Well, stick it in my man-pussy.”  He stands up and braces himself against the wall.  “Fuck me raw.”  He wiggles his nicely rounded ass at me.  I spit on my cock to add to his saliva.  I slide home easily.  He’s pre-lubed and ready.

I fuck him with hard, deep strokes.  They leave him breathless.  And silent.

I’m sure that I won’t have any other options tonight, so soon I ask if he wants my load.

“Not in my ass!”

“But…”

He pulls off me.  “I just like to watch breedings.”  He gets to his knees.  “Jack it into my mouth.”

So I do. 

And head home, only vaguely satisfied.

Sunday, September 4, 2016

Full Moon

Near Home—June, 2016

The night of the June full moon I got to go back to the bookstore.  It was a night where I couldn’t put a foot wrong…


I am on the gay side.  I am in the back corner, on my knees.  I have the largest, swollen set of hairy balls smashed against my tongue.  I can’t begin to fit them in my mouth.  (I had thought the room was empty when I walked in, but he was in the shadowy corner behind the door.)  An older man, he is stroking his smallish cock and letting those monster balls hang free over the band of his Hanes underwear.  I lick every inch of exposed, hairy flesh.

“Suck my dick,” he commands.

I must have licked his balls just right.  He explodes in my mouth with very little effort.

*****

Minutes after I sit down to stroke, a new man walks in and stands in that back corner.  I turn and look.  He’s hot.  He has an ex-football player build and is still in shape.  He’s in his late 30’s or early 40’s with short blond hair.  Muscles ripple under his tight tee shirt.  He opens his cargo pants and takes out a nice thick cock with a pronounced helmet head.

I get up and kneel in front of him.  I take that big dick head in my mouth.  My tongue is all over it.
He groans.  “Suck me good.”

I do.  It takes concentration to get him down my throat.  But I do it.  His dick is spewing pre-cum like crazy.  I finally have to stand up and give my knees a rest.  He sees my bigger dick for the first time.

“You have to fuck me with that,” he whispers in my ear.  “But not here.  Meet me in the rental booths.”  He means the ones where you can rent and watch a whole movie of your choice.

I find him in the middle one.  He’s naked and waiting.  I can’t believe my luck:  Muscles, big dick, hair in all the right places and now wanting my dick.  I kneel and suck him some more.  Than he sucks me.  The handsomest man I have ever seen here is now sucking my dick.

Eventually, the Footballer stands and shows me his ass for the first time:  huge hairy mounds of flesh.  I stick my tongue right in.  He groans.  And begins whispering.

“I want you in my ass so much…I love big cock…and I want it raw.  Spew your load in my guts…”
I stand up and insert.  He’s tight.  He does not take cock regularly.  I ease in.  Hold.  And fuck.

I am fucking him hard now.  The sound of flesh on flesh fills the tiny space.  I can hear people outside our door.  I am sure they are trying to look through the crack.  I stop for a moment.

Shit.  Literally.  He’s dirty.

And he’s angry at himself.  “Dammit, I spent an hour back there.  Well, I brought my bottle.  I’ll go to the car and get it and re-clean.  Please save that load for my ass.”

I don’t promise, but agree I’ll look for him and head off to wash.

*****

I check the straight side.  Nothing.  Or nothing I want to do.

Back in the gay theatre, the crowd has arrived.  My regular fuck bud is taking the thin man who never admits to blowing his load up an ass.  I watch them fuck for a moment, then unbutton and stick my freshly washed dick in the bottom’s mouth.

This increases the heat in the room.  Five other guys are watching.  They all take their dicks out now.  Stroking of each other soon follows.  Two of them eventually start sucking.

In moments the Stealther stops.  He’s made no sound of orgasm, but I’m sure I will find a dripping hole.  I come around and get on my knees.  My tongue is there just in time to catch the first drip from the bottom’s ass.  I dig in…

*****

Later, I’m sitting in the cock sucker chair.  The bottom  I felched  is now giving me head as another regular has his thick cock  in my mouth.  When the bottom’s jaw tires, two others take turns on my cock—one old man who takes it slowly and another who is all teeth.  I stop the toothy one and the man who loves it in almost slow motion takes me to the root again and again.

The Footballer arrives at my elbow.  He nods at me.  I thank the men I’ve been playing with and the Footballer leads me back to the booth.  He gets naked and I open my pants.  He sucks me a moment, but you can tell he’s anxious to take me back in his ass.  I stand up and tell him to bend over.  His full moon of an ass is again in front of me.  I sink to my knees and tongue his freshly prepped hole.

“Damn, you know how to eat ass.  Make me wet, stud.” 

I spit into his hole and lube my dick at the same time.  I stand and insert.  It’s an easier entry this time.  And he’s now spotless. 

I fuck him.   Harder and harder.   After all the play, I am more than ready to bust a load into him.

“You really want my load?”

“Fuck yeah.   Make that hole your own.”

“You’re gonna get it.   Really soon.”

“I want it.”  The noise of my fucking in this cramped space increases.  “Give it to me.”  I slap his ass.  “Give me your cum.”

I buck into him—spewing the load I’ve been building since I arrived, three hours ago.

I stay in him while he finally touches his own big dick and sprays the upholstered bench.

“Thanks,” he whispers.  We trade names.  “That’ll do me for a year.” 

I laugh.

“I’m a top—but I bend over for big dick,” he continues.  “Yours is perfect.  I just got on PrEP and all I can think about is taking loads.”

We trade phone numbers. 


He can’t stop texting me as I drive home in the light of the full moon.