Surprise Break with a Busy Bookstore.

Near Home—June, 2018

Maybe I’m finally learning to delegate authority in my real world job, but I found that I had more free time this summer than in previous years.  This was especially true in early June as work was just beginning to ramp up.  I found I had a window of time to get to the bookstore, mid-day.  I arrived just after lunch hour and ended up staying almost 4 hours.

There must have been a crowd right at noon.  The floor in the gay theatre is covered in dried jizz.  But no one is here now.  I go over the straight side.  No jizz on the floor, but two condoms are stuck to the rim of the waste basket.  But I’m alone over here, too. 

I unbutton and sit on the comfortable couch by the door.  The porn is good if not spectacular.  I stroke happily and listen for the cash register.  I am alone for maybe seven minutes.  An older man comes in—still decently built.  He stands against the wall next to me.  He looks like he’s taking a break from doing yard work.  He smells of the outdoors and is sweaty in a good way.  And his dick is hard.  It’s in my mouth moments after he takes it out.  It’s a very regulation sized cock.  He lets me take charge of it.  My tongue is moving like crazy—and he sighs every time it flicks over the underside of his engorged head.  He is cumming down my throat in three minutes at the most.  Of course, his dick is jizz free as he finally pulls it from my mouth.  He reaches for a bandanna—and realizes he has no need of one.  He thanks me, puts it away and goes back to his yard work.

I wait—taking a swig from my water bottle.  I want a clean palette.  I know the next guy.  He reminds me we’ve played not only here but when we both were visiting relatives farther north.  He is younger than I am, anywhere from 40 to 55.  The dim light makes him look younger yet.  He has that Peter Pan quality so many aging gay men acquire with a lot of moisturizer and a set gym routine.  He drops his pants around his ankles and kneels in front of my rampant dick.   He deep throats me with ease—then pulls off it and spends extra time on my leaky piss slip.

“Take me deep,” I whisper, though there is no one else anywhere around us.

He does.  Over and over.  He finally pulls off me, leaving a lot of spit on the head and shaft.  He grabs a chair and bends over the back, one knee up on the seat.  “Fuck me, man.”

I slide off the couch into a kneel behind his cute, almost hairless ass.  I tongue his hole.  This make him groan into his clasped hands, where his head rests.  I poke and prod.  Has he been fucked in the arcade?  I can’t decide.  I stand up and push my wet cock head against his pucker.  He’s a no poppers guy and proud of it.  I sink in slowly.  Inch by inch.  He pants and grunts out encouragement.  I hit bottom.  I don’t hold for long.  I fuck him with all the pent up sexual energy from so little play in the weeks preceding today.  He grabs his dick.  He beats off in time to my cock going up his ass.

I feel his ass clench.  He’s shooting.  All over the chair seat.  I slow down.  Is he done?  Or can he work through it and let me keep going?  He asks for a break, but promises he’ll be back.

He gets up, does himself up and scurries out.  I doubt I’ll see him again.

I have heard noise next door on the gay side while we were fucking.  I go find out who’s there.  I find a cub and shaggy haired guy.  The shaggy haired guy has obviously been feeding his dick to the seated cub, but they have separated, looking guilty as I walk in.  I sit in a chair next to the cub.  I haul out my dick.  They both look at it.  I look at them.  The Shaggy Haired guy sticks his thick knob back into the Cub’s mouth.  I go to my knees and wrest the Cub’s tiny dick from his massive paw.  Shaggy grabs the Cub’s ears and begins to face fuck him.  The Cub is ready to explode—I can feel his balls contract and his dick expand.  He suddenly pushes me off him, stands up and fires on the floor.  

Wasted.  He leaves.

I’m still kneeling on the floor.  I nod to Shaggy.  He comes over and sticks his wet dick in my mouth.  He grabs my ears, too.  As least I’ll get this load, I tell myself.  He’s building fast—no telling how long the two of them had been playing before.  “Oh, fuck!” he barks out.  And he pulls out of my mouth and shoots on the wall next to us.  What the fuck??

I go back to the straight side.  A rather out of shape guy is jerking to the porn.  I sit next to him on the couch.  He stops jerking and hides himself until I get my cock out.  He resumes beating his meat once I start doing my own.

Five minutes goes by.

“God, I need a mouth,” he mutters.

I’m back on my knees.  I want a load to swallow.  I get it, fairly easily.  He lets me lick him clean, too.  He lingers, but doesn’t want to return the favor.

Peter Pan comes back.  I’m jerking in the same place he last found me.  He goes down on me, again, my legs splayed wide.  He opens his pants as he sucks me.  Soon he pushes them back and down, exposing his ass.  The chair is still in place.  He kneels, right in his own spunk.  I go back to rimming him.  Now I know he has been fucked by someone else.  I am tasting cum in his hole.  My cock drips more.  I am sure I’m going to add mine to what’s already in his ass.

I stand up and enter.  No hold for him to adjust this time.  I just plow into him.  His cock is hard again.  He jerks in rhythm with me.  I am building nicely.

And the door opens.  The cutest man I’ve seen there in ages walks in.  Tall, slim, 30’s.  He registers what’s happening and without missing a beat unzips and delivers a long, slender dick into Peter Pan’s mouth.  The new arrival pulls up his t-shirt and yokes it behind his head revealing a very hairy chest.  He works his nipples as I plow.  He watches my raw dick fuck the cute butt.

Finally our eyes meet.  He smiles.  I smile.  I offer him a turn fucking.

Abruptly, he pulls out of Peter Pan’s mouth and sits on the couch, his dick tucked away.   Peter takes it personally and gets off the chair, doing up his clothes.  He says goodbye rather huffily and leaves.

I look at the Otter.  He pulls out his dick.  “You need to suck my dick,” he says.  I kneel in front of him.  He’s long but thin enough he never cuts off my air supply.  I want this last load so I can shoot, too.  I work hard.  On his shaft.  On his balls.  On his taint.  Almost to his hole.  And back to deep throating.

“You want my load?” he grunts.

I nod as I keep sucking.

“Here you go…”

He pulls out of my mouth.  He grabs his dick and jerks out spurt after spurt onto my beard.  And nose.  One on my forehead.  And more on my beard.  When he’s finally done shooting, he won’t let me clean him up.

I rock back on my heels.  I need to shoot.  But he leaves—oblivious that I really want that moment together—to at least have a witness if not a participant. 

I stick out my tongue.  His cum drips onto it from my soaked mustache.  It’s all I need to finally fire my own load onto the linoleum.