Saying Goodbye to Evan's Insatiable Ass

 My Playroom—November, 2025

I didn’t have long to wait for good sex.  Evan, the fist pig who comes to visit from Illinois, was due on Friday.  I was looking forward to seeing him, but it was also slightly bittersweet, as we both knew this was likely our last meet for a long time.  He was moving to Florida sometime before Christmas.

As usual, he arrived late in the afternoon.  He made himself a drink and told me about how the plans for the move were coming along as I sipped my hot tea.  Soon enough, he went off to the shower to prepare.  I took the lube downstairs and turned on some fisting porn…

 

Evan sits on the bed.  He spends a few moments sucking my dick.  But the pull of getting his hole stretched is just too much.  I can see it in his eyes—so I suggest he get on the fuck bench.  He does.  I hear the poppers open as I kneel behind him.  He ass crack is still warm from the shower.  I dig in, my tongue instinctively burrowing into his soft flesh.  He groans as I begin tongue fucking his hole.

I stay there for quite some time.  Teasing him, standing up and wiping my leaking cock on his hole but not going inside him.  But I love the taste of my precum on his hole.  I work it inside with my tongue.

Finally, I stand and slip my cock into him.  I slide right in—I have made him so wet.  I pump.  His head comes up as he looks at the large mirror in front of him.  He sees me thrusting into his ass.  I point to the mirror on the side wall that is positioned so he can actually see my dick as it plows into him.  He groans—and shuts his eyes so he can concentrate on working his hole.

His ass loosens up easily after all these years of play.  I want to add something to my cock.  The Ballistic Butt Bomb is right next to me on the shelf.  I stick the stainless-steel head into the coconut oil and grease it up.  It slides in with just a little pressure.  I add my cock, so the long thin shaft is under my dick.  My cock head now batters the bulb—inching it deeper into Evan’s wet hole.

I pull my dick and the toy out.  I eat his hole once more.  I grab the Seahorse and slather it with lube.  I work it into him, curve up.  He gasps.  But he takes it.  Deep—almost the full toy.  I slip it out and it re-enters him with the curve going down.  His hole flowers open and he takes the toy until the big balls are slapping against his ass.

We move to the sling.  I spend a few minutes eating his hole again.  And fucking.  Again—I want to tighten him down.  I use the eggheaded dildo—the toy I use the most for double fucking. He is back to feeling as tight as the moment we started.  

I move to the speculum.  I crank it open slowly.  Turn after turn—making the stainless-steel flippers stretch his hole.

“Fuck me,” he pleads, knowing I love to stick my dick in between the metal phalanges.  I stand up and push my rampant cock into him.  We both groan as I bottom out inside him.  I pause—and then begin a slow in and out, thrusting deep into his spread open ass…

*

I have done a little true fisting, mostly with my left hand.  Now I use my Crisco covered paw to grease up the Ass Grommet.  I slide the open cylinder over my hard cock.  I grease up the outside of it—and push it into him slightly gaping hole.  Evan’s eyes light up.  He loves how full he feels—my big cock has doubled in girth.  He moans.  I love that my cock head is free of the toy so I can feel his wetness as I fuck.

We move on.  I know we will be running through the toy shelf.  I insert the black butt plug.  His hole snaps shut, just like it should on the more slender base.  I pick up the Ballistic Butt Bomb and use it as a mallet.  I strike the exposed base, sending vibrations through his body that make his whole frame shake.  Now it’s the bigger three-tiered plug.  He takes it all—and I pound on the base of this toy, too.  Evan moans in sheer joy.

I do another round of fisting.  This time using my right hand as well as my left.  This leads to me grabbing the 18 inches of chain.  I work it up his hole—link by link.  Slowly.  Each link inserted adds to the weight in his ass.  He takes it all.  I have just three links left to hold onto.  I wait a moment.  I begin the slow pull out.  Each link widening his ass lips to get out.  He moans the entire time I work it out.  The last few links come out in a rush with gravity taking over.

“Do it again!”

I do…

*

The new toy shelf is all but bare.  I have used the toy in the vague shape of a hand.  It is very firm and unforgiving and Evan’s ass is one of the few who takes it.  He has loved the clear dildo with a handle.  But right now, I have the long black dildo that has three humps in it.  I use the handle to maneuver it inside him.  He takes it but for the last inch.  As it comes out, he asks for it once more.  I let him take his poppers before I work it in.  I wonder if the fumes will help him take the last little bit, but it bottoms out in the same place.

I have promised Evan a new toy.  It has sat in its box for over a year, waiting for the man who brought it to come back to the playroom.  He was a hot construction worker who saw me regularly while he was in town, first at the bookstore and then in the playroom—but his local job ended and so did his visits.  We never got to the toy he brought.  It is another variation of balls on a string—but instead of balls, the humps are shaped like flared cock heads.  I grease it up—and Evan’s moans tell me that it will be a good toy in rotation with the others.

Evan asks for one of the two biggest toys.  I fetch the Sex Machine, the toy that looks like it is the giant dick of a robot.  I grease up the shaft, which is more like a triangle than a column.  I work it slowly into him.  A quarter.  Half.  Three quarters.  All but the last inch of this toy, too.  I pull it slowly out, cover the tip with more grease and we do it again.  This time he takes every last inch of this mammoth cock.

We take a break.  We watch of little of Pigs at the Hoist.  Then Evan’s back in the sling.  I do a lot of hand work—before I work most of the toys we’ve used, into his insatiable hole one last time…

*

I hope that this is not goodbye to Evan.  Maybe it will be a good excuse to get me down to Florida…

Poor Excuses and Missed Chances

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History: My Dad

 I’m going to pause in my progress of coming out (and finding sex) to back up a little.  Here is the post about my father…

 

I fully believe that I am on this earth because my father knew how to type.

You see, Dad was drafted into World War II the moment he graduated from high school in 1944.  He was 17.  He suddenly went from being a soft-spoken, small town boy who loved his dog and worshipped his mother, into being fast tracked for basic training.  Fortunately for me, somewhere early on, he told his Sargeant that he knew how to type—something that many men didn’t do in the 1940’s—but he’d braved being the only boy in the class during high school, wanting to learn how for college.  He completed his basic training and really didn’t see the combat that the rest of his unit did.  The war was winding down and he was told to start typing discharges—and his would be the last one he’d do.

Both my brother and I heard this story—and took a tying class for college.  What we didn’t hear about for years and years were details about his being in war-torn Germany and helping open the concentration camps.  At 18.  I can’t imagine.

After the war, Dad went to a small religious affiliated school on the GI Bill.  He stayed in the dorm—and his roommate became a life time friend.  Oh, and he met my mother there, too.

Remember the post where I came out to my brother and we were talking about Dad and his porn?  One of the things that came up that night was Dad’s college roommate.  We went to dinner at his house in Detroit, just before my brother graduated high school.  Dad’s roommate lived openly with another man who was from central Europe.  Even I, in my early teens, could tell they were partners not friends.  That night of my coming out, my brother told me that the European had followed my brother to the bathroom and started to come on to him.  He quickly shut the door.

After my telling my brother about the porn novels (and their evolution from straight to gay) there was another story we shared that night.  Back in high school my brother asked to take the family car for the night.  Fine—but it needed gas and Dad told him to use the Sunoco credit card.  Being helpful, I got up from the table and went to Dad’s wallet (where he always left it on the buffet) and pulled the only plastic card I saw in there and handed it to my brother.  He blanched and said I had the wrong one, and got up to find the correct card.  All those years later, my brother told me I had handed him my dad’s membership card for the gay bathhouse that had branches in both Detroit and Toledo.  (Dad choosing the Toledo branch.)

There was little that was overt, but with Dad teaching at a high school 30 miles away—it gave him a lot of time away from the family.  We can see now, he was obviously bisexual—with two sons to prove it. It’s what men did before Stonewall—and what some still do.  ‘I can quash these feelings by getting married.’  We think of someone like Oscar Wilde as gay.  He wasn’t—he was bisexual with a family…

Did my mother know?  I can’t say for certain.  At first, I doubt it.  Twenty years in, maybe.  What I do know is that they loved each other.  They were best friends.  True soul mates. 

There was an incident in the late 1970’s.  I was home from my first year of college and we got a call from the police.  Dad had been picked up and was at the police station.  Mother, her voice shaking, asked why, for what?  The officer’s answer was: “I’d like him to tell you.”

Dad came home shaking and my mother not believing a word he had said.  He had stopped at a rest room in a public park (that was notorious for gay sex, I soon learned—though I never had any luck there).  He told some story about how the police were looking for a car just like his—and it was all a huge mistake.  I am sure he propositioned an undercover officer.  I made myself scarce as they talked it out.  By dinner, there was a wary truce.  The porn books disappeared from under the front seat of his car.  He was home a little earlier each work day.

I believe he still had ‘some time away’ after the arrest.  There was a man, who became a family friend, who stopped just short of telling me he and Dad had a relationship.  I do believe Dad stopped altogether the moment the ‘gay cancer’ was all over the news.

Much of the strife between father and son of my brother’s coming out was not that my brother was gay—but Dad was afraid that it would out him as well.  Though it was never put into words.

I mentioned the loosening of my mother’s tongue as she fought memory issues.  The other thing she told me, after the tale of my coming out of the womb pissing, was the fact her mother did not want her to marry Dad.  “But darling, he’s so obviously a mama’s boy…” 1950’s speak for well, you know…

*

There is another wrinkle here.  My mother’s only brother was a hell raiser.  He got a girl pregnant in high school and had to marry her.  Soon a divorce.  Another marriage and divorce a decade later.  He was a military nurse and went to Vietnam for a long tour.  He came home and drove up to see my brother at college.  He arrived outside the TKE house in a loud convertible, blaring the latest disco song of the moment and wearing a flamboyantly colored faux fur coat.  He had found men.  And loved it.  He eventually married a lesbian in a marriage of convenience to fool the military brass (at least on paper…)

I should also mention that the two children of dad’s only sister, my cousins, have both married and had children.  In the next generation, there are for sure two gay men and I am pretty sure a budding lesbian.

So, you know that nature vs nurture debate…I totally believe there is a recessive gene somewhere for our gayness.  And I got it from both sides…I didn’t stand a chance…

He Knew What He Wanted

 My Playroom—November, 2025

 

I had been corresponding with a gentleman who wanted something a little different.  He loves having his ass dilated.  He asked if I enjoyed speculums.  I told him I had two.  He agreed that I could stick my dick in him as well.  And he might like to try sucking it.

We conversed for quite some time on Recon.  Finally, we set a date.  He arrived right on time, the Monday after my All Saints Day revels.  He wanted to check his clean out after his drive.  All was good.  I gave him a bathrobe to get downstairs…

 

He’s a good-looking guy, in his late 50’s.  He is wearing a thermal knit shirt to hide the slightest of guts.  Below, he has thermal underwear, with the ass and crotch cut out for easy access.  He has a bag of goodies.  First out is his own homemade lube—made from xanthan gum.  It is a very large tub of it.  I place it under the sling.

Next, he pulls out his speculum.  It is a Collins, just like mine.  We opt to use mine so it will be one less thing for him to clean later.  Then lube syringes.  Maybe a dozen of them—from pencil thinness to fat cylinders.  I select one that is twice as fat as the one I own.  I put it near the lube.

He is sitting on the bed.  He asks to suck my cock.  I offer it to him.  It is not something that I think he does very often.  Not bad, just inexperienced.   I don’t let him spend too long on oral—I can see he is eager to get in the sling.

He gets in and I move the stirrups to a comfortable position.   I kneel and begin to rim him.  He groans—and open the new bottle of poppers he got on his trip in to me.  I eat his hole.  It begins to expand, just with the pressure of my tongue.  I get some of his lube on my hard cock.  It is slick and cool.  I stroke and lick his butt.

I add a finger, dipped in the vat of lube, before it worms its way into him.  He takes me easily.  I play with his prostate and his cock gets very hard.

I fill the lube syringe.  I work it into his ass.  I depress the plunger and empty it all deep inside him.  Some escapes.  I push it back in my finger.  He’s told me he loves to be filled with it—so I do a second injection.  I condom up (per an earlier request) and slide into him.  He is totally poppered and his cock is drooling.  I fuck—and suddenly he is gushing out a mega load of cum. 

I pull out.  He moans.  I ask if I can lick it up—and he moans out a ‘yes’.

“Can you keep going?”

“Yes…”

I grab my speculum and cover it with his lube, thinking too late that I should have used his cum.  I work the cool metal into his hot ass.  I begin the slow crank.  He loves that I know how to open him correctly—slowly, with incremental turns of the thumbscrew.  I get it open wide enough that I know I can add my dick.  A different Magnum goes on—and I do just that.  I don’t think he’s ever had anyone fuck him with the speculum in place.  His cock erects once more.

After some minutes, I pull out and crank him closed.  I grab the Seahorse, the curved, ridged dildo that has a very small head and a gentle increase of girth as it goes deeper.  He loves it.  I try it with the curve down.  Then the curve up.  He takes it both ways easily.

My fingers do a lateral stretch—the same move that the speculum does.  He groans—I think appreciating the warm fingers over the stainless steel. 

I go for the chain with the smallest links.  It is 18 inches long.  I dip it in his vat of lube and work each link into him.  Slowly.  Precisely.  His breathing changes as the weight of the chain, now 11 inches inside him, weighs down his gut.  I add three or four more links.  I have just two left in my greasy hands to hold.

“Ready?”

I let him popper up.  I begin the slow pull out.  Link.  By.  Link.  He moans and touches his cock.  The first six inches have come out of him very slowly.  Now the weight of the freed chain is pulling the rest out.  It comes out in a steady flow—each link bumping his prostate.

He groans louder now.  He’s shot a second time.

He knows to stop.  It’s only been 30 minutes, but he knows his ass won’t take more having shot twice.  He’s satisfied—and so am I.  I invite him back anytime…

All Saints Day -- but Only Sinners in Sight

 Near Home—November, 2025

The night after my Halloween adventure was supposed to be a young man coming to my house to ‘suck Daddy’s dick.’ I was not surprised in the least when that morning he got on the app and told me it was too far for him to travel, at least, that night.  I am not foolish enough to think he will ever make the trip—but was actually happy that he had the decency to bother to tell me.  So many don’t.

You can guess where I went…

 

There are quite a few men in the room—and they are men I don’t recognize, but for the Crossdressing Latino.  I am able to sit in my usual chair—as these new men seem to like sitting in the darker corners.  But they aren’t playing—they are just groping themselves.

I settle in and take out my dick.  I stroke it to full hardness.  Men eye me, but no one makes a move.   I watch the straight video, occasionally turning to take in the gay screen when the men on it get vocal.

The door opens.  A straight couple, both in their 50’s, walks in.  He’s a big guy—in every way but his cock, I learn very fast.  His wife is average looking. They are followed in by a man I have seen every time there is potential straight sex happening here.  He sits a few chairs from them—and they seem to know each other.  (I have yet to crack how these men know ahead of time…)

They dominate the room for some time.  She sucks his tiny dick.  She sucks off two men with large cocks (two of the guys I’ve never seen before.)  She finally gets naked, and the guy who trailed them in, gets to eat her out and fuck her.

Half the room is agog with her having sex.  The other half, myself included, are waiting for them to leave.  They are out the door maybe an hour after their arrival.  All the straight men leave with them—leaving five gay men, who are now intent on getting each other off.

The Crossdressing Latino has gotten his dick out as the straight entourage leaves.   He stands up and feeds it to me while at the same time fingering a Magnum in his hand.  I suck him until he’s dripping, then take the condom and roll it on.  He bends over his chair and I push into his ass.  The other three men in the room take their cocks out and begin to stroke.

I pick up the speed on CDLatino’s hole.  He is stroking himself in time with my thrusts into his hole.  I speed up again.  His hand flails on his cock—and he erupts all over the floor.  I pull out—and for the first time ever, the condom is clean.  I rinse off anyway.  CDLatino is gone by the time I emerge.

A good-looking guy in his 40’s comes over to me as soon as I sit down, his average sized cock swaying as he walks.

“May I suck that beauty?”

“Sure.” 

He kneels and begins to suck.   Almost at once he begins to stroke himself.  I like his tongue work—so much so that I suggest he lick my balls.  He flicks it down my shaft and stops.  He inhales the sweaty fragrance of my hairy sack, moans and digs in.  But it’s all over in moments—he’s shooting between my boots.  He apologizes profusely as he stands up and moves to the restroom.

There are two men, both likely in my age bracket, left.  One looks slightly familiar and the other is a dapper man—with a gorgeous seven incher.  The guy who looks familiar kneels in front of me.  If that previous guy was good, this guy is great.  And he has a beard.  I love how it caresses my balls as he sucks.  He’s in no hurry at all.  He gives me a luxurious blow job—moving unasked to my balls and back.

I glance to the side.  The dapper guy is stroking faster.  I nod to him.  It takes him a moment to sink in—then he’s on his feet and bringing me his dick.  Is there a better feeling?  Having a dick in your mouth while yours is also being sucked.  It is just what I need.  His length is perfect to go deep into my throat, but he’s thin enough I don’t have to worry about my sharp canines.  He is watching me suck his cock one minute and then focusing on my dick disappearing down the bearded guy’s throat. 

Suddenly I feel his shaft plump.  He’s going to cum.  I pull back slightly so he will unload on my tongue and not down my throat.  He grabs my head and holds on.  Three or four big blasts of seed splatter on my tongue.  I swallow quickly, letting his cock drain out the rest of his cum.  He lets me clean him up.  Every drop.  He smiles and takes off.

“Hot!” murmurs my cocksucker.  “Now if I can get you to do the same…”

He doesn’t have long to work.  I am loving his tongue—and the load I got and can still taste.  I take a hit from his bottle of poppers when he offers it to me.  I inhale, re-cap the bottle and…Holy Shit!  I am there.  I am spewing my load into him.  And he is doing just what I did:  letting my first shots pool on his tongue, swallowing and cleaning me up until I am squirming and begging…but not really wanting him to stop…

History: Losing It

 

The fact that I still have my ‘coming out’ journal is really helping me write about these years.  I recorded events, thoughts, desires—and sometimes even dialogue.  Here we go with the next round of my checkered history…

 

What started out as a simple steak dinner ended up giving me much more to digest than just the beef.  The discussion, the confessions, the disco and the neighborhood bar all swirled in my brain as I lay awake the next night.  It felt good to have someone in my corner, but the disco and the bar were so far removed from anything I knew.  Were they going to become my regular haunts?  I couldn’t see that at all.

I didn’t have long to worry about it as my summer job was coming to an end and before I went back to the University, I was taking a camping trip with a young man I knew from my high school drama club.  Yes, I was pretty damn sure he was gay—and I was going to do my damnedest to get to ‘know’ him better.

Theo was two years behind me in school.  He would be going into his senior year in September. We had been good friends in high school and I had gotten a lot of vibes that suggested he was more interested in boys than girls.  I had gone back to see his performances that first year away.  I had suggested he might like to come with me on a camping trip and see three shows at the Stratford Festival in Ontario. He jumped at the chance.  He even talked me into adding a day in Toronto to the itinerary.

On Monday, August 23, 1976, we were packing his car with a tent, sleeping bags and all the gear we thought we’d need either to camp or to sit in the theatre.  I was in charge of fitting everything in his trunk.  But I kept stopping just to look at him.  He was a short guy, with dark hair that tended to curl if he let it get a little long.  He had a quirky smile and a wicked sense of humor.  He also tended to be very intense and passionate in whatever we were talking about.

We had a flat tire somewhere on Highway 401 as we drove into Canada, but it barely slowed us down.  We found the campsite and pitched our tent.  We weren’t seeing a show that night, so we fixed dinner and made a campfire as the sun went down.

And we talked.  And talked.

Coming out to Theo was a breeze—barely any nerves for me at all.  He told me he, too, felt bisexual (that old stepping stone down from straight to gay.)  He had done some mutual masturbation with a friend I didn’t know.  He had tried to have sex with a guy I knew from the drama club and the guy ended up treating Theo like shit.  I told him about meeting our mutual drama friend at the disco.  He was floored—not once ever thinking the guy would be gay.

We talked forever.  If we stopped talking, God help us, we might have to do something.  The fire burned low.  We had no more wood.  We brushed our teeth, pissed and got ready for bed.  Our sleeping bags were on problematic air mattresses on either side of the tent.  It was a warm night, but we both lay inside our sleeping bags.  To disguise our erections—well, at least in my case. 

Finally, I found the courage: “Let’s try…”

Theo shook his head and said he was too tired, but tomorrow would be good. 

I barely slept at all that night.

*

The 24^th was a full day.   Getting a new tire took forever.  We strolled through quaint, though slightly touristy, Stratford.  We saw Antony and Cleopatra that night, starring Maggie Smith in her first of three seasons in Canada.  We were elated—good theatre does that. 

We went back to our tent and got ready for bed.  It was late—no campfire tonight.  He crawled right into his sleeping bag.  Shit, I thought, he doesn’t want to do it after all.

We lay there in total silence after all the babbling back and forth about the production.

Finally: “What are you doing over there?”  Theo’s voice held genuine surprise.

“I thought you had changed your mind…”

“Don’t be stupid…”

We moved the air mattresses, so they were touching.  I rolled over, as did he.  We kissed.  Tentatively.  My first real kiss.  Awkward.  Where does my nose go?  How much tongue?  Yikes.  We came up for air.  Now what?  Theo made no move. 

“What do you want to…”  My question hung there for a long time.  “Well, I’m just gonna…” and I put action before words.  I tongued my way to his neck, his nipples, stopping in his fresh pubes for a long time.  Finally, I took his hard cock into my mouth.  It felt familiar and strange at the time.  It was so much easier to suck than my own when I was self-fellating.  And he was smaller—I could really work my tongue all around his shaft.

I sucked him forever.  We tried a 69.  You read about young men shooting instantly, but surprisingly, neither of us shot that night.  We just fell into an exhausted sleep in each other’s arms…

*

I loved waking up holding on to a man.  We were both hard—but we ignored our dicks and got up and had a late breakfast.  It was a two-show day.  The Merchant of Venice with Hume Cronyn as a brilliant Shylock.  Then in the evening, A Midsummer Night’s Dream with Cronyn as Bottom and his wife, Jessica Tandy, as Titania.   Magical.

It was also magical, that once back in the tent, I sucked Theo to orgasm.  I loved the explosion of semen in my mouth.  I swallowed without a moment of debate—the most natural thing in the world.  Theo said he wanted to reciprocate—but he was too tired.  I fell asleep easily.  I didn’t care if I got off.

I sucked him again that morning and got another mouthful of cum.  He tried to get me off, but even then, I seemed to take so much longer to get there, that he gave up.  I didn’t care.  We were headed to Toronto—and had to pack up the tent, anyway.

On the trip in, he was in a bad mood.  I tried to coax it out of him.  But nothing.  Lots of silence on this leg of the trip.

We found a campsite out of town.   After set up, I was tasked to go buy whiskey.  Theo wanted to drink.  I found a liquor store and bought the pint.  After dinner, I had my Canadian whiskey with a splash of water.  Theo added Coke to his…and then orange juice.  He kept mixing and drinking it, no matter what it tasted like.

Suddenly he said, “I know I’m gay.  I love men.  But I hate sucking cock.”

I pointed out there were other things to do.  Eventually, he was back to his usual self, but a drunk version of it.  We had no sex that night.

We were meeting high school female friends who were also in the city.  Dinner and then went back to their hotel.  It all felt odd and all parties were glad when we took off for our tent.

Which was flooded.  A gloriously sunny day in the city and a rainstorm where we’d set up camp.  We were young.  We slept on his sleeping bag, the drier of the two.  And I sucked him off one last time.  Perfecting some skills.  I got him off even faster.

We went home the next day.

In less than a week, I was back to a new dormitory, with new roommates.  But I had an even better friend; someone I could now tell everything—even easier than my brother.  I wondered if I was in love.  Maybe.  I knew he wasn’t—but I could live in hope…

Halloween Evening: The Revels Ignite

 Lansing—October, 2025

(This picks up right where the last post left off…)

 

I eat my dinner, packed in my travel cooler, out in the car.  I find coffee a few blocks away.  I actually nap a little.  I drive back to the venue and re-enter around 8pm.  Things are picking up.  There are more people around.  Mostly men, but a few women as well.

I do the tour.  In the first room, with all the couches and porn, there are a number of men stroking.  I walk down the hall to the other main area.  Men are on the roam around the gloryholes.  A few are watching the sole television back there, now with a porn loop that doesn’t freeze up.  I check the new maze and walk in on a blow job.  The guy on his knees, who happens to be wearing a black corset and hose, gestures for me to take out my cock.  I do.  I am not hard—but he swallows me down as he holds the other man’s stiff dick in his left hand.  I harden up in his throat.  He chokes and pulls off me.

“Holy fuck,” he moans.  “You need to fuck my wife.”

And he goes down on me again.  I let him go to town on my dick, then push him back to the man he was sucking when I came in.  The other guy grins at me and hefts my balls.  When he comes out of the sucker’s mouth, he shakes his head and takes off.

The corseted man stands up.  “Will you fuck my wife?  I really want to eat your cum out of her.”

“We should ask her.”

He leads the way to the first room.  I assume she’s out there.  But no.  The guy is too distracted by my dick.  He sits on a side couch and sucks my cock once more.  But the angle is bad.  His solution, and a great one, is to remove his bridge.  His whole mouth becomes so much roomier.

“You should fuck me.”  He wants to be on his back on the low platform that is in front of the couch.  I tell him my legs won’t bend so deeply for so long.  He settles to be on all fours.  I go right to fucking.  He moans.  Men stop and watch.

“I need to take a picture to send to my wife,” he says, twisting away from my bucking hips. 

“Fine.” 

But he can’t find his phone.  We search the couch, but I never saw it with him.  We go back to the maze and try to find it.  Nope.  I send him to his locker—but he gets distracted and shows up back to where I’m waiting for him. Without the phone—or even looking if it’s in the locker.  He finally goes and looks.  Nothing.

I suggest the door attendant call his number to see if the phone is in the building.  He hates that idea.  We search everywhere we’ve already looked one more time.  He decides he left it in his car.  I suggest he gets dressed and go to look.  But he doesn’t.  Or won’t.

I am fed up and walk away.  I never find out if he found it.  But I did see his wife…and I’m not sure if she was a man in drag or the real thing…

*

I roam.  I stumble on a hot oral threeway.  One man holds the other still, pinioning his hands behind his back, as a third man services the guy. They aren’t looking for a fourth, so I keep moving.  I go into the dark room.  My eyes adjust faster.  I can hear heavy breathing behind the partition that has a glory hole in it.  I move closer, standing slightly out of the way.  A young Asian woman (or a remarkable CD) is sucking a white Daddy, who is sitting in a chair.  He is wearing a sweatshirt from one of the Michigan universities.  I have seen him around.  His thick cock is being expertly serviced.  Also watching is a tall, skinny Black guy in a hoodie.  He is stroking to the scene.  As am I.

Sweatshirt bends and says something to the young woman.  She nods.  Sweatshirt motions for us to come closer.  We step in.  She continues to suck Sweatshirt, but is now making a show of it.  I am surprised when Sweatshirt reaches up and feels my dick—and begins stroking it.  Hoodie stares at the young woman.  In another moment, Sweatshirt guides her head to Hoodie’s dick.  I am really surprised when Sweatshirt begins to suck me.  He’s good.  And hungry.  He moans out his pleasure.  Hoodie is breathing harder now that he has a mouth on his cock.

Sweatshirt pulls off my dick.  “Suck this one,” he commands.  She moves over.  She’s good, too.  She lifts my hand from my side and places it on her head, so I can ‘force’ her to suck me.  I know how to pick up my cue.  I go from enjoying her mouth to using her.  Hoodie is not put out by not having a mouth on his cock.  He is stroking hard and fast.  He loves the idea that in just these few moments, she’s had three dicks in her mouth.

Sweatshirt, is sitting right there, his face is right next to hers.  He watches her suck me—as if he was still doing it.  He is beating his cock, too.  And moaning.  The young woman is making sounds of real exertion—and loving it.

“I’m gonna shoot,” Sweatshirt moans.  “Take my load.” 

She leaves me and finds his dick just in time.  She gags as he fires into her mouth.  Then she’s back on me.  Her mouth is still full of his cum and my cock is covered.  She proceeds to lick it all off.  Once she’s cleaned me up, she begins trying for my load.  I let her think that for a moment, but it’s not going to happen.  With my hands on either side of her head, I ‘force’ her back onto Hoodie.  He gasps.  Sweatshirt stays there to watch the show.  Or maybe he is her Master.  I watch her service the long thin dick next to me—and then leave them to it…

*

It's getting late.  What I’m not seeing tonight are people on the fuck bench or the sling.  I really want to drop my load and go home.

I move into the maze.  There is one man there who has no interest in me.  He leaves.  I find a glory hole I hadn’t noticed on my previous cruising.  My dick is semi-hard and I push it through.  At that moment, a very tall CD in a short blond pageboy wig arrives with a 20-something Black guy.  I have seen her service a number of men in the public spaces.  She is likely my age, but hides it well.  She does a double take on seeing me there, but then mutters “Join us.”   The CD kneels and begins sucking the young man.  I turn away from the hole.  My cock hardens up.  I love that s/he has hiked up the short skirt and is beating a fat beer can of a cock as s/he blows the guy.

“Suck his dick,” says the young man.  The CD does just that, really sucking me deep.  The young man jerks his cock.  I guide the wigged head back to the young man.  And then back to me.  The three of us are nicely in tune.

“Can I fuck you?” he finally asks.

For a moment, I think the CD is going to say no.  After a tiny pause, s/he stands up, pulls down the panties and displays a hot, shaved bubble butt.  The young man takes my offer of lube, covering his cock and pushing in.  The CD grabs the wall for balance, taking his hard thrusting like a champ.  He shoots inside 50 seconds, he is so turned on.

“I don’t know if I can take you,” s/he mutters, “but I’m damn well going to try.”

“You’ve got that extra lube in you now,” I murmur as I go to my knees.  I push my face between those freshly shaven butt cheeks.  The young man’s load begins to drip onto my tongue.  I groan.  So does the person I’m felching.  The beer can is so aroused, s/he pushes it back for me to lick the dripping head.  I do—and shove the precum up the hole in front of me.

I stand up.  I enter that cum dripping hole with ease.  I begin to fuck, rather shallowly, then slightly deeper with each stroke.

“Fuck, yes!”

I slap the ass in front of me, making it tighten around my cock.  The cum squelches as I fuck.  I know I’m close.  This is better than I’d hoped for—having a big cum load to fuck in.

“You want it?”

“Fill me up.  Sir!

That does it.  I begin firing away.  Blast after blast.  It’s a terrific orgasm after all the hours of stoking the fire.

I pull out slowly.  I go to my knees and lick up some of our mixed cum.  Not much, just a little clean up.  I stand—and without any coaxing, my cock is sucked clean from that cum-hungry tongue…