"I'm Just A Fucking Whore"

Northern Michigan—September, 2016

I always cross the Canadian border at Port Huron/Sarnia instead of Detroit/Windsor.  There is less traffic and I can avoid going through Detroit.  Coming home this way after my night at SteamWorks, I realized that I was horny as fuck—thinking about all the sex of my week in Canada.   I also realized that I was closer than usual to a bookstore that I don’t get to very often anymore.  As if the car had a mind of its own, it took the exit north before I had fully decided what I should do.

I had an early dinner, checked into a cheap motel room and went for a night at the bookstore.  It is set up slightly differently.  Your one admission gets you into a gay theatre, a straight theatre (plastic chairs facing a large screen television) and down a hall, there are 14 booths—7 playing gay films, 6 playing straight and one screening bi-sexual porn.

I am in the straight theatre.  I’m sitting in the corner watching two women share an amazingly large dick on the screen.  I am back to watching the movie.  I have been sucking the man on my right.  He is a nice looking older guy—but he stops me and pulls me off his dick every time there is a noise in the hallway or the door opens.  Heaven forbid that another patron see him getting his cock sucked.  After the tenth time (honestly!) I give up.  He looks at me.  Pissed.  And finally puts his cock away and leaves the room.

I stroke.  But I’ve lost the mood.  I get up and sit in the gay theatre.   One man finally comes in—and the foul, unwashed smell of his clothes are too much for me.  I beat a hasty retreat.

The straight side is still empty.

I make the rounds.  Three or four doors are closed and locked tight.  I can hear sex happening behind most of them.  Wet blowjobs are unmistakable through the plywood.

I sit in a corner booth.  I leave the door wide open.  I pull out my cock.  It’s a gangbang movie.  This will work just fine…

I don’t know how much time later, I recognize the fact that absolutely no one has wandered by.  I have heard one door open and bang shut.  One of the formerly locked booths leaving.  I decide to go exploring.  I stand and start to put my cock away. 

And I hear movement.  A man is coming this way.  I sit and concentrate on the screen.  He passes my door.  It’s a new arrival.  He’s late 40’s and in clothes that are much too nice for this place.  He stops at the booth directly across from me.  He opens the door and looks in, studying the screen.  He turns in my direction.  I study the screen and make sure that he can see every inch of my dick.  When I finally turn to him, he all but blushes and turns back to the screen in his booth.

We do it again.

This time he comes over to me, a little unsteady.  One too many glasses of wine with that good dinner, perhaps.  He stands outside my door.  He’s tall, nicely trim and his clothes fit him very well.  He grins.

“You have a big cock.”

I smile back at him.

“I guess guys tell you that all the time.”  He fills my doorway with his body.  “I got a pretty nice one, but not like that.”

“Show me.”

He unzips his expensive pants.  And a thick seven incher emerges.  “Will you suck it?” he whispers.

He steps into my booth.  It’s tight, but we fit if I stay seated.  He fumbles with the door lock, finally getting it latched.  He turns fully to me and I take his cock into my mouth.

“Nice…” he croons.  I suck him to the root.  He groans quietly, then whispers:  “I went out to eat with the family.  They all went home for a nightcap, but I…I needed something.  I’ve been horny all day.”

I pull off his dick and look at it.  The head is very red.  And wet.  I take just the head into my mouth and use every trick my tongue knows.

This time he pulls it out of mouth.  “I’m just a fucking whore,” he mumbles.  “Can I suck you?”

“Sure.”  It takes some maneuvering in the tight space to get me to stand, back to the screen and for him to sit on the bench.  We make it.  And he enthusiastically takes half my dick into his mouth.  I wasn’t expecting much—but he’s good.  He knows what to do.  He beats his own dick like crazy.

“I want your load,” I tell him.  “In my mouth.”

He grunts assent around my dick and goes for the full length.  He gets all but the last inch.  I fuck it into his face.  He instantly stops beating.  I’m obviously doing something right.  I grab him by the ears and begin to deliberately fuck his face.  In.  Out.  All but to the root.  My bush smashing against his nose.

I let go.  And let him come up for air.

“That almost made me shoot.”

“I noticed.”

“I love big dick.  If I’d thought about it, I’d have cleaned up and I’d be sitting on that thing right now.”  This surprises me, but I don’t let on.  “Do you fuck?”

“Sure.”

“I’d so let you load my ass.”

This surprises me much more.   “Let me see it.”

“What?”

“Your ass.  I want to see this ass you’d like me to fuck.”

“But we can’t.  I’m not ready….”

“I know.  I just want to look.”

We do the shuffle around again so he’s standing in front of the screen and I’m back on the bench.  I suck his cock as a teaser, then turn him around.  The expensive pants come down off a very nicely rounded ass.  He lets them drop to the dirty floor.  I push the designer briefs down and run my hands over his butt as he jerks.  He’s mostly hairless.  I pull his cheeks apart slightly.  There’s some hair there.  And a tight, pink hole. 

I lean forward.  My tongue touches it. 

“Oh, shit,” he whispers.  “Eat this whore’s ass out.”  I poke and prod him with my hard tongue.  The guy jerks like crazy.  I tongue him deeper.

He shoots. And it’s not in my mouth.  But he’s very happy.  He pulls himself together and leaves.

I stand up and pull up my jeans from where they’ve been around my ankles.  My thighs are suddenly wet. 

I don’t know how he managed it, but he’s shot his load right into the crotch of my pants.