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.


  1. So, you'd think that in a big city like LA that'd everyone would be jaded but it's actually pretty rare to chat with someone unabashed about kinks... even in the context of a bathhouse or ABS. Go figure.

    1. That's interesting. I love that confessional feel after you've had sex--or are in the middle of it--and you suddenly need/want to talk. I love listening. I love comparing. And it certainly played a role in why I write this blog.