Jamal Craves my Tongue Once More (Part One)

 Near Home—August, 2024

 

I saw Keith on a Monday.  He left me in a very happy, satiated state of mind.  But, of course, that changed by Thursday.  I needed to be on the prowl again.  I went to the remodeled, all-in-one-room theatre at my local bookstore…

 

I go through the door, closing it firmly behind me.  There are men sprinkled around the room.  Maybe eight.  I don’t bother to count until I sit.  I find there is a man in the shadowy corner, too, so I am the tenth man here this afternoon.  One man is openly stroking to the straight porn.  Others are either kneading their crotches or adjust themselves occasionally.  I unzip.   My cock stands up at the mere thought of some play.

I stroke.  Mostly to the straight porn, but I keep turning and checking the gay video as well.  It keeps my attention until condoms magically appear as they begin to fuck.  As I turn back, an older man (white, over 65 and rather paunchy) has moved next to my chair.  I nod to him.  He nods back, with his eyes focused on my cock.  His fat fingers squeeze his own bulge, before reaching for mine.  His fingers encircle me and he begins to jerk.  He is not squeezing too tightly.  It’s actually rather pleasant.  It feels even better when he spits into his hand.  It now glides over my cock.

“You like that?” he whispers.

“Sure.”

He continues.  He never changes speed or the motion.  It becomes a little boring as he works it…and works it…and…

The door opens.  Jamal, the hot young man who’d fucked Braydon and had sat on my face in this very room, walks in.  He smiles as he sees me.  He comes over and sits on my other side.  The old man lets go.  He wanders off to the restroom to wash my precum off his hand.  Jamal gets up and pulls me up.  He playfully drags me to the more secluded corner by the gay screen.

“I want you to rim me again.”

I smile.  I can’t believe my good fortune.  And I love that he brought it up.  He stands and slips off his shorts and his boxer briefs.  His thick, black snake of a cock is beginning to swell with blood, just from being exposed to the air—and everyone’s eyes.  He sits.  I go to the floor.  I begin by licking his big balls as he jerks himself to full hardness.  I love the kinky hair covering them that holds every drop of my saliva—so I have to go back and lick it up again.  I lift them and my tongue finds the top of his perineum.  He scootches forward slightly on the seat.  I lick up and down it, deliberately not touching his tight pucker.

My tongue traces up from his crack to over his balls.  He lets go of his thick cock and lets me lick the underside.  I reposition, raising myself a little, so I can suck him.  I oval my mouth and take the first half of his cock deep into my throat.  He groans.  I hear men open their flies and begin to jerk.  I can fit almost all his cock in my mouth and throat.  The last inch remains untouched.

But sucking his cock is not what he asked me to do.  I move, getting off my knees and sit on my ass.  I slide my long legs under the chair.  Jamal rolls back in the seat, exposing more of his full ass cheeks.  He pulls them apart—giving me easy access to his hole.  My tongue connects with the target.  He groans.  He lets go of one side of his ass so he can stroke his cock.  I burrow in, relishing the tight curls of hair that ring his hole.  I keep prodding his pucker.  And it’s opening, slightly, with each thrust.

Jamal is whimpering.  He’s lost in sensation.  I push once more, my tongue hard and pointed, and I go into him.  He groans and his stroking gets faster.  I spit and keep prodding him.  But it’s still an awkward position. The chair is low enough that I have to be quite hunched over.  I can’t sustain it for as long as I want to.  I stand up.

The look on his face is priceless.  He thinks I’m stopping.  I sit in the chair next to him.  “Sit on my face like you did before.”  He is up, straddling me, facing out.  His feet step up onto the arms of the chair.  I tilt my head back so it rests on the back of the chair. He lowers his full ass onto my upturned face.  It’s perfect.  My tongue finds its way into his now slightly open hole.  He groans.  And begins jerking in earnest.  He can cover me with his jizz if he wants to—I am in clothes I don’t care about at all. 

My tongue goes from his hole to up and down his hairy crack and back into his hole.  His ass lips are becoming slightly puffy—just as if I were fucking him with my dick. I suck first one and then the other into my mouth.  Massaging them with my tongue.  Over and over and he moans and jerks.

I feel a hand replace my hand on my dick.  It’s not the guy from before.  I have no idea who it might be.  He strokes me for a bit.  Now his mouth replaces his hand.  I groan into the butt I’m eating.  This is fucking perfect—getting really good head as I am eating this glorious wet ass.  Jamal squirms on my face.  He is actually moving so that my tongue can work deeper into him.

But it can’t last.  His legs tire.  Jamal stands on the arm rests and then onto the seat of the empty chair next to us. The guy blowing me is back in his own chair before I can see which man it was.  Both of us are breathing hard.

But I want more.  I pull the chair our of the corner.  “Stand against the wall,” I tell Jamal in a hushed voice.  He does.  “And bend.”

He seems confused.  I pull his ass towards me, making him arch his back as supports himself against the cinder block.  “Arch that back like you make your bottoms do before you fuck them,” I whisper in his ear.  He whimpers.  But he likes to please Daddy.  He stands, his ass jutting out.  Breathless.  And vulnerable.

I slap my cock on his upturned butt.  He gasps.  I go quickly to my knees and bury my face in his wet ass crack.  His hole is gaping.  Not a lot, but enough for me to tongue fuck it with ease.  Jamal groans again and starts to madly stroke his dick.  I have so much more control like this.  It is the perfect position for me to really tongue-ravage his hole.

I force myself to stop stroking myself and hold his cheeks apart with both hands.  I go deeper yet.  He squirms and moans.  My repeated tongue assault is making him whimper again.

“Tongue fuck me, Daddy…” he whispers so low that only I can hear him.  I spit on his hole.

Jamal spins around.  His big cock is about to explode.  He gets the head into my mouth just in time for the first blast.  He pushes deeper into my throat.  He is deep enough I can’t taste any more of the jizz shooting out.  My mouth is stretched by his thickness—and it feels him pulse with each spurt.

He holds onto my shoulders.  He pulls back slightly.  He lets me tongue up the last drip coming out of his dick, before he pulls away altogether and sits across from where we were sitting, still half naked, his cock wet and glistening…

 

The onlookers in the room are galvanized into action...but that’s part II…