Finishing the Job

 Near Home—May, 2023

I have two meets in May to write up before we get to my IML reporting.  Here is the first.  It was just a quick trip to the bookstore—wanting to drop a load before I went to Chicago…

 

It’s a Saturday afternoon.  The sun is bright through the windshield of my Focus.  I park between two huge pickup trucks in the partially full lot.  I go into the dimly lit store, buy my ticket and go into the even darker straight theatre.  It takes me a moment to see there are several men here and I can sit in the back row—in the infamous cocksucker’s seat.  I sit—and unbutton.

I hear jerking in front of me.  It must be the older man with a very large bald patch.  His shoulders are shaking to the rhythm of his self-abuse.   Scattered around the room, three other men are kneading shorts or pants.  One looks at me—and not at the screen.  He is new to me, a big ex-footballer in build, Caucasian and wearing a ball cap.  He stands up and comes nearer.  He stands next to me.  Now I can see, in his face, that he’s older than I first thought.  Late 40’s or early 50’s.  He continues to grope himself as he watches me stroke. 

Finally, he leans down, close to my ear.  “Let me suck that thing.  Sir,” he adds as an afterthought.   

I simply spread my legs.

He goes to the floor and takes me deep, the very first moment.  He is a very experienced cocksucker.  I sigh and knead his shoulder as he goes to work.  Everything is right.   No teeth, great suction and a sloppy wet mouth with incredibly versatile tongue action.  At the five minute mark I tell him how good he is.  He doesn’t stop—he just keeps going.

The guy down front stands up and shoots all over the floor.  This makes the man on his knees start a repeated deep throat on me.  He is sure I am going to fire off at any minute.  There is a moment that I think I actually might.  But as soon as I think it—the tide of potential cum recedes.

Did he feel my cock head swell and then go back down?  He gets up, acting like he’s wasted his time.  I tell him again how good it was and that it takes me forever to get off anymore.  He grunts.  I suggest he check back later.  He goes out—letting the door slam.

I sigh.  The room empties out.

I do up my fly and go next door.  A burly Black man, who I see here all the time, is actually getting head.  He usually just strokes.  The man doing him is another regular.  I leave them to it, as they seem to have no interest in me joining.

I go back to the other theatre.  There is a new man, jerking.  He is all about the video.  The one time I catch his eye, I do the nod to his hard cock—does he want help?  He shakes his head and never glances at me or my dick again.

I wait for the good cock sucker to come back—but I never see him again.  The large Black man comes in.  He stands against the back wall and jerks—obviously and man with the beard did not get his load.  We make eye contact.  He shows off his cock, but seems to not want me to do anything with it.  He eyes mine—but just as bate fuel.

A very old man comes in.  He sits on the bench in front of me.  He pulls out his cock.  I can’t see it, but I can tell.  He jerks—looking only at the threeway on the screen.

The door opens again.  I pray it is my cocksucker—but no.  It is a man with a long hipster beard.  The hair on his head is cropped close.  He must be in his late 30’s.  He would look totally at home behind the counter in a trendy coffee shop.  Except he is kneading his crotch.  He watches me—and then the Black man against the wall next to me.  Back and forth—with an occasional break to watching the screen.

Finally, he unzips.  This makes the man against the wall jerk faster.  I actually slow down.  The three of us nod to each other—but neither man moves to me.  I start to get up—and the bearded boy instantly turns back to the screen.

We stroke.  And stroke.  We are now watching each other, not the movie.  I assume the two younger men are going to go for it.  I wait for one to go out the door and into the gay theatre so they can be in faux-privacy in the darkest corner behind the door.  And guess, what?  Bearded Boy shoves his regulation sized cock back in his pants and goes out.  The man on the wall does the same. 

I stroke.  I hear the gay theatre door open through the adjoining wall. 

I wait. 

I do myself up and go over. 

The Black man is nowhere to be seen.  Bearded Boy is stroking more openly to the anal sex on the screen here.  He nods to me again.  And at that moment, the man I think of as the Cock Kisser moves into my line of vision and to his knees to ‘suck’ Bearded Boy.  The guy is a horrible sucker—I know from years of him thinking his ‘kisses’ are going to get me off, with just my cock head in his mouth. 

I go back to the straight theatre and stand to the side so I can watch the guy who was in front of me jerk.  Finally, I sit back behind him.

I hear the door open and close next door.  I go back.  Bearded Boy is still there, his pants done up.  We nod again.

“He get you off?”

Bearded Boy shakes his head.

“Let me do it right.”

I go to my knees and he unzips.

He sighs the moment my lips and tongue envelop him.

I suck.

I tongue his balls, eliciting another groan.

“You swallow?”

I grunt a ‘yes’ and he gives me the size load most young men shoot…

He thanks me profusely—finding his tongue after his orgasm.  I have my left hand around his nuts, holding him in place so I can clean his cock.  He thanks me again as I finally release him.

He leaves.  I do one more check.  Now both theatres are empty—and looking out the front door, I see the only cars in the lot are the clerks and mine…

So much for dropping that load…