A New Side to an Old Trick

Near Home—August, 2017

Sometime during the last week of August I pulled my right hamstring.  I don’t know how I did it. I had kept up doing more yoga since I’d taken the classes at CLAW this last April, but I am pretty sure that I didn’t over stretch.  I could walk with no problem, but if the leg was bent a certain way the pain was intense.  (It’s better now—but not completely gone.)  I am so rarely sick or hurting, it is always a shock to my system to not be able to function as I always do.

But it didn’t stop my dick from being in overdrive.  I was packing and planning for my annual trip to Canada.  I was timing it to hit Cum-Union in Toronto and I was excited.  My dick was constantly reminding me that he had been underused this summer.  Tonight I needed a break from getting my camping gear together.  I had the house to myself—but no one online was interested.  I went, reluctantly, back to the bookstore.

It’s a weeknight.  The pickings are thin.  Two older men on the couch are just finishing up from sucking each other off as I walk in.  They zip up, wink at me and leave.  I sit on the couch.  Nope, the seat is high enough to press on my thigh right where it hurts.  I move to a chair.  It’s lower and I can angle my leg out to take any pressure off it.  I get out my dick and concentrate on stroking.

The porn is good.  It’s pretty nasty straight porn.  The guys are Latino, hung and hot as fuck; the pretty women want to be used—that kind of porn where their make-up goes from perfect to dripping down their cheeks from all the spit and cum.  Not only do the men eat pussy and tongue ass, they do it even after they fuck in those holes! These Latin men also expect their asses to be eaten by their partner.

And thank goodness the porn is good; for the first 30 minutes of my visit there is no one else around.  I stroke happily—with no twinges in my leg.

The door opens.  It’s a man I have played with many times.  He’s usually been mentioned in passing.  He’s African-American, mid-40’s I would guess.  He likes to stand next to me, knead his trousers and eventually pulls out his seven-incher.  He loves my mouth and usually gives me a load very fast.  He is surprised I’m not in my usual spot on the end of couch, but he walks up behind me and stands at my shoulder, kneading the bulge in his pants.  He unzips.  I turn slightly and take his cock into my mouth.

“Damn, you’re good,” he sighs.  “Suck me.”

I don’t need encouragement.  It’s the perfect sized dick for my mouth—big enough to feel full, but no so big that I can’t do all the tricks with my tongue.  I feel him tense.  This is even faster than usual.  I am ready for him to explode.

And he pulls out of my mouth. 

“I can’t stand it.”  His pants drop to his ankles.  He spits in his fingers and, as he walks around in front of me, he pushes his wet fingers into his ass.  Before I can say anything, he sits on my cock.  He takes me to the root in a single stroke.

“Argh.”  I grit my teeth.  His weight has ground my thigh against the chair frame.  I shift it more to the side and the pain lessens.  He rides my cock like a pro.  I have seen him here easily half a dozen times and he’s never done anything but get his dick sucked.  Once I saw another man sucking him—but he pulled out of that guy, walked over to me and stuck his wet dick in my mouth and gave me the load.  And now he’s riding my cock like a whore in heat.

His legs tire, just as I’m about to say I can’t take any more (for a very different reason).  He stands up.  He grabs a grubby bandanna out of his back pocket and wipes my cock off.  He kneels and begins sucking my dick.  I am in shock.  I was sure this guy was trade.  His technique is enthusiastic more than practiced.  But I am getting off on his role switch.

There is a sound outside the door.  He is up off the floor in a flash, pulling his pants up and sitting in a chair near me before the door can open.  An old man shuffles in, barely able to make it to the couch.  My role reversal guy looks to heaven, sighs and takes off.  I wait a moment.  Yup.  I hear the door to the gay cinema.  He’s gone there.  I stand.  I have a flash of pain, than am fine as I pull myself together.  I go next door, too.

He’s there, right inside the door.  And another regular sits along the side wall:  a thin man who usually tops with others but has sat on my dick more than once.  I make the assumption that the guy I pursued in here won’t get back on my dick.  And indeed once I’m seated, he stands up and starts to fuck my face.  The other man pulls out his dick and jerks as he sees that black dick being thrust into my mouth. 

Once again, I’m sure he’s going to blow his load in a matter of minutes.

And once again, I’m wrong.  He moves around and sits back on my dick in full view of this other guy.  He rides me, grunting out his pleasure.  The other man strokes harder.  I nod at him.  He gets up and I think I’m going to get his cock to suck as I’m being ridden.  Wrong again.  He decides to spit roast the man on my dick.  He sticks his dripping cock in the Black man’s mouth.

There is only a moment of our three-way connection.  Suddenly the man riding me pulls off both of us and shoots all over the floor.  The man in his mouth fires at the same time.  His load goes on the floor too, after the first glob lands on the bigger black cock.

We all clean up—they with napkins—I need to wash.  By the time I’m out of the bathroom, there is no one in either theatre. 

At all. 

For the rest of the night.

Even the good porn has deserted me.  It’s now a terrible point of view flick—more talk than fuck.

I wait awhile…and go home.  But rather pleasantly surprised by the turn of events.