"I've Heard Guys Are Better..."

 Near Home—December, 2022

I didn’t do anything sexual for a full week after the CumUnion party with Osvaldo.  I was sated.  I monitored myself for exposures of all sorts.  And was quite content to stay at home with a good book.

I was ready to play again by the next Saturday.  I went for an afternoon session at the bookstore.  Historically, this was a busy time…

 

The parking lot is all but bare.  I think about just heading home.  But I remind myself that all it takes is just one man.  I park and go in.  No one is in the gay theatre.  There are two men in the straight one.  A man who looks vaguely familiar is in the cocksucker’s seat.  A man I don’t recognize is sitting in the seat in front of the regular.  He is my age, or maybe a little less.  He carries some extra weight.  His hair is cropped close and he has a tightly trimmed beard.  He’s hot.  And he is really enjoying the movie.  He is masturbating a good looking seven incher.

I sit across the makeshift aisle from him.  He nods to me as I sit down.  I nod back, pleased he acknowledged me.  We watch the screen.  I dig my cock out.  It is a good three hole hetro film.

There is movement behind me.  The guy in the cocksucker’s seat is on his feet and coming our way.  He looks first at the new guy.  Obviously, he wants fresh meat, too.  SevenIncher shakes his head.  Cocksucker turns to me.  I shrug.  He goes to his knees and takes me deeply into his mouth.  SevenIncher looks surprised.  Before long, he’s watching me get sucked just as much as the hard driving sex on the screen.

I notice my Cocksucker is beating his own dick as he sucks.  He tries for a deep throat and sprays his load between my boots.  He mutters something and takes off.

We watch the movie.

“That was hot,” SevenIncher says, glancing at my wet dick.  “I’m surprised.”

“At what?”

“That you let him do that.  I couldn’t.”

I turn to him.  “Couldn’t what?  Let your dick be sucked?  Or suck a guy?”

“Neither.”  He goes silent.  Then: “Sure not in public.”

I am quiet for a long moment.  “You like your cock sucked?”

He’s surprised.  “Yeah, my wife is pretty good.”  Pause.  “I’ve heard guys are better.”

“Our mouths are bigger, less chance of teeth.  And we know what feels good on our own dick—so we do that.”

He thinks about that.  “That makes sense.” 

Silence.  Just the sounds of our wet, slick dicks being stroked.

“Do you suck dick?”  His voice is softer now. Almost a whisper.

I turn to look at him.  “Sure.”   A beat.  “You want me to?”

“I dunno.   Not here.”

“Nobody cares.  And nobody’s here.”

We lapse into silence, stroking our cocks.

“Ok.”  This is a whisper.  “Are you just gonna kneel here?  What if someone comes in?”

“Why don’t you stand here to the side—if we hear the door, you can just step away.”

He likes this idea.  He takes a deep breath and comes over, his cock held firmly in his hand.

I hunch down a little in my chair to be at the right height. 

He stands ready.  I look up at his face—it’s a mix of need and fear.  I open and take him into my mouth.

He lets out a low hiss of pleasure.  My lips are tight on his shaft and my tongue is working madly all over the underside of it.  I take him all the way down my throat, twice, before I pull off and lick his tight, pulled up testicles.

“Damn…” he breathes.

I go back down on him.

“Oh, fuck, no!” he whispers.

And he pulls his cock out of my mouth and showers the linoleum. 

“I swallow,” I blurt out.  “Let me clean you off.”

But he is already stuffing it into his khakis. 

“That was amazing,” he whispers and goes.

I look at the wasted load on the floor.  It looks very white, pooling on the dark floor.

I go back to stroking.

I don’t see anyone else all night.

And I have never seen him again.