Lansing—August, 2025
On the last Saturday of
the month, I went back to the cruisy playspace that recently re-opened after a
fire. Once again, I made a day of
it. I packed dinner, made sure I had
plenty of lube (and even a few Magnums) and arrived there in the
afternoon.
The lot is not as full as
my last visit. I go in and pay my
admission. I make a tour of the entire
building—the television lounges, the dark room, the glory holes next to the
sling and fuck bench. I see perhaps
three men on their phones who look bored…so much so that they don’t even look
up as I pass them. I go back to the main
lounge where there is a good bisexual video running. I open my pants and pull out my dick. I stroke.
A tall, thin young man
comes out from one of the play alcoves in the corner of the room. He sees my dick—and walks over. He sits next to me on the couch with a ‘Hello,
Daddy.’ He has longish dark hair, pulled
back in a ponytail. He kneads his own
crotch as he looks at my dick. I smile
at him and look back at the screen.
A moment.
“Does Daddy fuck?”
I turn to him. I was expecting his mouth, but I’ll be happy
to start with his ass. I nod and he
leads the way back to the alcove. He
pushes down his jeans, exposing a very white, very thin ass. He bends, supporting himself on the back of a
chair. “Put that big cock inside me.” I don’t know why I don’t rim him—I really
want to—but I just follow his directions.
I lube up and push into him. He
sighs. His cock is thin with a sharp downward
curve. He starts stroking it the moment
I begin to fuck. He has a dirty mouth. And he uses it. He tells me how good it feels. How I can fuck him anytime/anywhere. How he loves cum in his ass. How it tastes better after it’s been deep
inside him.
I fuck him harder and
harder. He beats his cock in time to the
fuck stroke I’m delivering. I build to a
real butt pounding tempo. I thrust hard
and hold as deeply inside him as I can get.
I pull out slowly. He groans and
spins and takes me, for the only time, into his mouth…
*
I wander. Nothing is happening at the gay screen or the
gloryholes. Yet. I settle down back in the main lounge and
stroke to the bisexual video. A new
arrival. A man I saw here on my last
visit. His wedding ring catches the
light from the television screen. He
passes me, nodding, and continues on down the hall to the gay screen.
I stroke.
He’s back. Nodding to me and sitting in a chair, near
me. He pulls out a very regulation sized
cock and strokes to the same video I’m watching—and occasionally to the trans
video in the corner. He makes small
talk. It takes about five minutes, but
he is soon kneeling between my legs and sucking my cock deep into his throat. He’s not bad.
I wish he’d been here earlier to really get me warmed up. He takes me to the root repeatedly. And only stops when his knees give out. He tells me he wants more later. And he does suck me again—several times—throughout
the afternoon…
I stroke a little, using
his spit. A transwoman arrives and
struts past me with a flowing auburn wig and a flaming red skirt. I stroke a little more, than decide to wander. There she is—on the fuck bench, no less, the
skirt up around her waist. The ass is
plump and shaved. I go into the cage
where the bench is located. I kneel and
eat her ass. I get the slightest of
sighs out of her. I stand up and slap my
cock on the upturned butt. No
reaction. My finger touches her
pucker. Her cock, hanging there, lengthens—the
only reaction that I am doing something right.
I line up my cock and push into that pucker. I glide in easily. Pre-lubed and ready. I fuck. Slow. Then
hard. And fast. Waiting to get some sort of reaction. There is none. At all.
I pull out and leave her
to it…
*
I go back to the big lobby
and stroke to the same video. A handsome
man enters. He is around my age, and
built much like me—tall and thin with a big bulge in his khakis. He makes the entire circuit, passing me without
a glance. But he’s back. He passes me, looking at my cock. He stands in the door of the dark room. Looking at me. Then disappears into it. I follow, not bothering to shove my cock into
my pants.
Damn. It’s pitch black. I work carefully to the far wall, bumping
into a chair on the way. My eyes
adjust. The man is standing behind the room
divider with the gloryhole in it. He has
his dick out. I can sense it more than
see it. I move closer. He reaches for my cock. I do the same. His is just hardening up. Long and thin, with an amazing amount of
foreskin.
“Do you suck?” he
whispers.
And here I thought I’d be
on the receiving end. I don’t answer, I
just go to my knees. He is the perfect
girth to go all the way into my throat without any risk of gagging. He groans as my tongue begins exploring his
foreskin. He instantly erects the rest
of the way. I have worked the flesh off
his cock head. My tongue is in his piss
slit. He gasps. He grabs my ears and begins face fucking me. Making me take every inch of him. He shudders.
His cock expands. And nothing
comes out. He is having a totally dry
orgasm. And loving it. I keep him buried in my mouth until he
chooses to pull out. He thanks me. Repeatedly.
And leaves me still on my knees in the dark…
*
The crowd is
building. Three or four hetro couples
have arrived. One rents a room. They do a bondage scene visible through a barred
window. Men congregate there to watch—and
one to openly jerk. I check how it’s
going each time I pass.
At the end of the
corridor, I watch men play with a very large cross dresser who has rented a
room and is allowing anyone to use either hole.
I head back to the gloryholes. I see a closed door so I head to the hole
opposite that compartment and stick my cock through the hole. It is immediately enveloped in a hot, wet
mouth. He, I assume, suckles it. Then pulls off me and strokes it with a
calloused hand. He sucks me a second
time.
The gloryholes here are
not really good for my height. I am
doing a knee bend to get my cock at the right level. Finally, I just have to straighten up, so I
pull out of his mouth and go out the door.
Instantly, the guy sucking me comes out of his cubicle and finds me in
the back corridor. He all but drags me
into the biggest of the gloryhole cubicles, sits me on a chair and goes to his
knees. He is a really good sucker. And I do prefer to touch him as he sucks my dick. And now, in a much better position, he takes all
of me down his throat.
Finally, he pulls off me. “I love your cock,” he whispers.
We briefly reverse, with
me sucking his hard six-incher. But he
really wants me to stand and fuck his face.
I do just that. When I pull out
of his mouth, I bring a long, loopy strand of deep throat spittle. I wrap it around my dick as he says:
“Can I see you again?”
I offer him my phone
number.
“I can’t. Married.”
I shrug.
“Well, what do you drive? I can stop by and see if you are here…”
I tell him and he leaves
happy. As if…
I walk the corridor and
stop at the window of the bondage scene.
She is no longer tied to the fuck bench, but lying on the bed, her legs
splayed. His head is buried in her. Wonderfully wet slurping sounds fill their room.
I decide it’s dinner time…
(So much more to come
after my meal…)
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