It Started So Well...

Near Home—August, 2025

I didn’t need to look for sex for a few days after my marathon fuck and suck detailed in the last two posts.  But I was horned and ready to go again by the next Tuesday.  I went to my usual bookstore.  The lot has a sprinkling of cars and pickups in it…

 

I sit in my usual chair.  There are a handful of men here.  No dicks in evidence.  Yet.  The older man with a headful of grey hair pulled back in a ponytail is in the corner.  He moves to sit near me.  Perfect—I would love to get into his smooth ass again.  We nod to each other.  His rather delicate hand strokes my dick for a moment, before he goes to his knees to suck.  I sigh.  He’s good—and truly loves having a cock in his mouth.

I feel a tap on my shoulder.  A regular I have known for over ten years is standing to my side.  His cock is inches from my face.  I open my mouth and take him in.  Damn, this is perfect.  I love working on a cock as mine is being done the same way.  I glance down and Grey Ponytail is working even harder to please me, now that he sees I have a cock in my mouth.  He pulls off my shaft and begins licking my balls—and softly moaning out his pleasure.

I concentrate my tongue work on the guy’s head.  It works.  With a few more flicks, he pushes deep into my throat and begins to gush.  He’s always been an easy load, but this is even faster than usual.  I swallow and clean him up.  He grips my shoulder by way of thanks and heads to the door, tucking in his cock as he goes.

Grey Ponytail stops licking and looks up at me.  “Will you fuck me?” he whispers.

I nod.  He stands up and drops his trousers.  As they hit the floor, his phone goes off.  Loud and insistent.  He looks at the number and quickly steps out of his pants.  He moves to the restroom to answer it—but is back in a flash.

“My daughter.  Sorry.  Gotta go.”  He gets his pants back on and is gone.

I stroke.  None of the other men look at me.

Ten or fifteen minutes later, the cross-dressing Latino arrives.  He sits next to me.  He begins to strip down.  The feminine attire is not under his jeans today, just a blue jock.  He strokes. 

“Suck?” he asks, standing up and waving his uncut dick in my face.  Nothing else is happening.  So I do.  Briefly.  As it just makes him want to get fucked.

He pulls out of my mouth and digs out a Magnum from the pants left on the chair.  I hate the latex, but I know he wants it covered—and it keeps my cock clean as he barely cleans out.  He goes to a post in the middle of the room and leans against it, jutting out his ass.  I know not to rim him.  I grease up the latex and slide in.  His ass, what I can feel of it through the latex, is nice.  I keep thrusting.

The five men left in the room actually unzip and stroke to the live fuck.  CDLatino strokes himself.  Fast.  I know he’s close.  He suddenly pulls off me and shoots all over the floor.  I look at the filthy condom and peel it carefully off me, tossing it in the trash on the way to the restroom to wash up.

The Latino is gone by the time I emerge.  The other men just look at me.  Some even go so far as covering their dicks with their hands.  As if I might ravage them.

I sit and stroke.  Nothing else happens.  I go home, rather blue balled.

And it started so well…