“Fuck the Shit Out of Me”

Near Home—July, 2017

A word of warning…you may not want to read this post as you eat…

I had a surprise night off.  I only had a couple of hours to play as I had a big day starting early the next morning.  I headed to the bookstore.

There actually seem to be more people here than usual.  Maybe my being here on a non-weekend night is a good thing.  I sit for a moment in the straight theatre.  About 7 men are constantly moving.  They sit for a fraction of a second, then get up and go out, more often than not letting the door shut with a bang. 

I go out myself.  Men are milling all over—in the toy section, at the entrance to the arcade, the parking lot—no one settles.  Are they waiting for a couple to arrive and entertain them?  I go off into the gay theatre.  There is only one occupant here.  An older man; he is likely a good ten years older than me.  His grey hair is cut close, he has maintained a healthy body weight and his cock is out and being stroked.  I sit next to him.

He smiles at me and says “Good movie.”

I open my jeans and pull out my dick.  It’s hard, well hardening.  It extends to its full length when I look over at the guy’s cock.  He’s not fully hard either.  He has a ton of thick foreskin that he is pulling back and forth over the very red head of his dick.  He notices me looking at it.

“You want to taste all that skin, don’t you?”

I can’t lie.  I do.  I slip to my knees and take him into my mouth.  I love the feel of his foreskin gliding over his creamy dick head.  He’s a very heavy pre-cummer.  I work diligently on his dick—but I can’t get it to fully erect.  But the amount of skin mixed with his pre-cum is working just fine.

His phone goes off next to my ear.  Loud.  I pull off him.  He looks at the screen.  “Gotta go.  Thanks.”   He zips up and leaves quickly.  And that was that.

*****

I walk back to the straight side.  A few men are in the room now…but the men who were here when I arrived have scattered.  I stroke—but no one is interested.  I hear the door open to the gay cinema through the wall that separates the two.

I go next door.   A cute kid, with really exquisite arm tats is standing in the back corner, behind the entrance door.  He’s late 20’s, nice face, dark hair, and has way more excess weight than he should around his middle.  He has his dick out and is fisting it in time to the fucking on the screen.

I’m not a body fascist.  I sit in front of him.  I pull out my dick.  He doesn’t move.  He eventually looks, but turns his head away the moment I catch him at it. 

Soon it’s a stare down.  Our eyes hold. Who is going to do who?  He makes no move—he even stops stroking.  I stand up.  I walk to him.  My hard cock pokes into his doughy middle.  He grabs it in his fist.  Tight.  Then, in a whisper:  “Please suck me.”   Barely any sound at all.

I wait the briefest moment and drop to my knees.  I take his rather slender two and half inches into my mouth.  I use a tremendous amount of constantly moving tongue.  He sighs.  I’m pretty sure he has not had anyone down here lately.  I press into his gut.  I get another 2 inches into my mouth.  Damn.  Wouldn’t that be enough incentive to drop some pounds—to end up with a bigger dick?

As I guessed, he suddenly is bucking into my face.  It’s a good sized load.  Creamy and nice.  I clean up his cock and he tucks it away.  He’s gone in no time at all.

*****

I spend some jerk off time in the straight room.  Alone.  It’s getting late—I need to head out soon.

Once again I hear someone go in next door.  I give them a moment.  They don’t instantly leave, so I go to investigate.  I step in.  I see no one.  A shuffle of feet behind me makes me turn.  Standing in the same corner is a middle aged man in seemingly nothing but sandals and faded overalls.

He nods to me.  I step back and share the back wall with him.  We both grope our own bulges.  He moves forward.  He is now two steps ahead of me.  His ass looks amazing in the overalls.  Full.  Pressing against the fabric.

And now the right strap is coming off his shoulder.  I watch its descent.  It's a hairy back.  I run my hand down his spine and give his left cheek a squeeze.  He reaches behind him and fumbles with the buttons on my pants.  I help him get in.  He jerks me, with the roughest, most calloused hands I’ve felt in a long time.  He jerks me, as I move the other strap.  The overalls fall to his ankles.  His ass is as hairy as his back.  I pull away from his rough hand and kneel.  I want to pry those cheeks apart with my tongue.

I do.  He pulls them apart still more.  I tongue his hole.  I get it as wet as I possibly can.  This is perfect.  I spit on my cock and stand up.  He grabs my wet dick and guides it so it pushes against his pucker.  It resists for a moment.  One more push and I’m in.  The man grunts and whispers to: “Fuck the shit out of me.”

I am more than ready to give him a load and get out of here.  I plow him deep.  He bends—pushing his ass onto me even deeper.

And then I smell it.  He hasn’t cleaned deep enough for me.  I start to say something.  He registers—and pulls off me.  He whirls around and swallows my cock.  He takes my filthy dick deep down his throat.  It stays in his mouth until he has sucked me totally clean.  He moans as if I am giving him the best possible treat.

I am on the brink of leaving, but quickly think "To hell with it."  He stands up and turns. I plow back into his fouled hole.  It takes me just a few strokes to get off in that ass.  Spasm after spasm.

“Clean my stinking dick,” I mutter.

He does.  Lovingly, kneeling between my combat boots.  He looks up at me.  “Can you go again?”

I shake my head, and tuck my spotless dick into my jock.