Yesterday I did the Craigslist thing. I generally don't like cruising that way, for all the obvious reasons (guys who are not real; guys who just want to email back and forth and get pics; guys who say they are on their way but never show up, etc). Sometimes it works out, though. I posted two ads -- one about how I wanted to eat jizz, and one about getting my manpussy fucked (I know it's not really a pussy, but I like the kind of guys who are turned on by thinking about it that way). I ended up getting three loads out of the two ads. Two of the guys responded to the manpussy ad. One of them responded to the blowjob ad. Nobody fucked me, though.
The first guy was just a kid. He had answered the blowjob ad. He did have tattoos, which you have to be older than 18 to get. Otherwise I'd have been worried. He looked very young to me. It was obviously his parents' house, and it was obviously the bedroom he grew up in, with all his teen stuff still up on the walls -- football trophies and such. He was a thuggish light-skinned black kid with a thick gold chain that went all the way down to his waist. He pulled his pants down, sat on the edge of his bed, then laid back. "You'll have to get me hard," he said. That wasn't a problem. His cock, once hard, turned out to be enormous. I'd say ten inches at least. Started out normal-thickness at the top but got very thick at the base. I sucked it all the way down (he freaked out a little when I did that -- in a good way). I couldn't do it but once. I usually don't have any problem fucking down hard over and over into my throat-chute, but there was something about the angle that made me gag more than usual. He didn't mind. I got his load after a while. He called me "baby" when he came, as in, "I'm about to cum, baby." He gently held my head and tried to push it all the way down again, but I couldn't take it quite down to the pubes. His head was past my throat-threshold when he came, though.
"I got to be discreet about this," he told me, as we were getting dressed.
"Of course," I said.
The next guy was another thuggish black guy who lived in a halfway house or boarding house or something like that. He had a wide face, a white dew-rag, was very friendly and horny. His dick wasn't nearly as big as the other guy's -- just a normal dick, curving up. He laid flat on his bed, wanted me to lay facing his cock and suck it while he slapped my ass. I was happy to oblige. He came a lot. It didn't have a taste to it, it was so thick. He had answered the assfucking ad, but didn't end up fucking my ass.
The third guy -- the only white guy of the evening -- had also answered the assfucking ad. He'd said in his emails that he was a straight dominant top, but I got to his house and it was all fagged-out with decor. You know what I mean? Little cute dog and four-poster bed. He looked kind of like Lurch. I sucked him and got out of there. He wasn't somebody I would have done normally.
That was all yesterday.
Today I went to Theatair X and sucked off a fat guy with a tiny dick who watched gay porn while I sucked him. He seemed straight except for the "watching gay porn" part. I told myself it was because that is what happened to start playing when he put his quarter in (I was already sucking him when that happened), and he was too into the blowjob to change it. But still. He did change the volume.
My standards are slipping. I gotta get a grip.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Where Should I Cruise Today?
So it's the day before Thanksgiving, 2011. I'm hoping that there will be guys in town trying to get away from their families. Here are my cruising options:
1. Theatair X in Indiana. Very cruisy up until recently. They've been remodeling. Thoughts on this: the guys from out of town don't know about the remodeling, so they might show up in droves. On the other hand, most of the guys I suck at this place, when I do suck guys there, are truckers. Truckers aren't likely to be on the road today. Right? Or wrong? I don't know. Hm.
2. Louisville Manor on Dixie Highway. Hit or miss. The kind of place that you can sit in alone for hours, then have three guys in a row come in looking for a blowjob. This is where the two pseudothugs got into a fight over whose bitch I was. If there are no other cocksuckers in there, it suits me fine. If there's even one other cocksucker, the place is useless, because of the low traffic.
3. Showboat. Mostly old men but the occasional spectacular straight working guy comes in, gets blown, leaves. Rarer and rarer lately though.
So tell me. Where should I go? I only have a few hours free.
1. Theatair X in Indiana. Very cruisy up until recently. They've been remodeling. Thoughts on this: the guys from out of town don't know about the remodeling, so they might show up in droves. On the other hand, most of the guys I suck at this place, when I do suck guys there, are truckers. Truckers aren't likely to be on the road today. Right? Or wrong? I don't know. Hm.
2. Louisville Manor on Dixie Highway. Hit or miss. The kind of place that you can sit in alone for hours, then have three guys in a row come in looking for a blowjob. This is where the two pseudothugs got into a fight over whose bitch I was. If there are no other cocksuckers in there, it suits me fine. If there's even one other cocksucker, the place is useless, because of the low traffic.
3. Showboat. Mostly old men but the occasional spectacular straight working guy comes in, gets blown, leaves. Rarer and rarer lately though.
So tell me. Where should I go? I only have a few hours free.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Couple of Stray Blowjobs I Forgot to Mention
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Thursday, November 10, 2011
Hot or Not: Making My Mouth Look Like a Pussy
I can curl my tongue around on itself to make it into a tunnel. Most people can't do this.
Sometimes when I am at the gloryhole, I hold my tongue like that in the hopes of making my mouth look more like a pussy. But I'm not sure if it's really working. It also kind of looks like a dog dick, which is maybe gross.
If you saw this through the gloryhole:
Or this, in person:
... would it turn you on or off? Does it make you want to fuck the pink? Or disgust you?
Also (and this is important), what kind of guy are you? Are you gay, straight, bi, etc? Just there to get your dick sucked, versatile, what? I need to know this because I think it may turn on the right kinds of guys (straight, just there to get off, horny and needing relief), and turn off the kinds I'm not interested in. Or maybe not. I just don't know. That's why I'm asking!
Sometimes when I am at the gloryhole, I hold my tongue like that in the hopes of making my mouth look more like a pussy. But I'm not sure if it's really working. It also kind of looks like a dog dick, which is maybe gross.
If you saw this through the gloryhole:
... would it turn you on or off? Does it make you want to fuck the pink? Or disgust you?
Also (and this is important), what kind of guy are you? Are you gay, straight, bi, etc? Just there to get your dick sucked, versatile, what? I need to know this because I think it may turn on the right kinds of guys (straight, just there to get off, horny and needing relief), and turn off the kinds I'm not interested in. Or maybe not. I just don't know. That's why I'm asking!
I Got Pimped Out!
Here's what happened last night when I cruised. You're going to think I made part of this up. I didn't make any of it up, though. It was weird.
Mid-week still seems to be the most interesting time to cruise for cock. Weekends, the bookstores around Louisville are too jam-packed with swinging straight couples and fashionable bar queens -- two categories of cruiser who tend to scare off my perfect trick, the "straight" guy who a). doesn't want to be seen by women, any women, even the ugly women in these swinging straight couples, letting a guy suck his dick, and b). doesn't want to be reminded of how "gay" what he's doing is, so the presence of silly gossiping queens is a sure turn-off, too.
I decided to stay on the Kentucky side of the river last night, mainly because of the remodeling over at my favorite bookstore in Indiana, which I mentioned in a previous post.
Over on this side, almost all the bookstores went to a similar business model a few years back. You feed a $10 bill into a slot in a door in the back of the store, which gives you entry to an area where there's a movie theater plus a bunch of video booths that play videos for "free" (not counting the ten bucks you paid to get back there, of course). I didn't like it when it first happened because it seriously cut down on the "young guy with only a couple of bucks to his name" trade. I still don't like it, but ah well. The way that it happened all at once, for almost all of the bookstores over here (there's only one exception), makes me think that it was a legal thing. Maybe if there's a locked door between the public and the cruising, the cruisers have more of a legal right to do what they're doing, or a presumption of privacy, or something? The one exception to this scheme, a bookstore I hardly ever go to, actually has a locked front door: you have to ring a doorbell to be let into the store itself. But once inside, you pay individually for booth time and/or to go back to the movie theater, just like the old days. I hardly ever go there. I don't know why.
First I went to a place called "Showboat," where I've been cruising on and off since around 1992 or so. I could fill several books with stories of cruising there, but I don't trust my memory when it comes to any sex story more than 72 hours or so old. They get better over time, I think, and shade into fantasy, which is why I only write about things that have just recently happened.
I was followed in by a fat, ugly guy. More on him later.
At Showboat, there are two gloryholes, but only one of them is unblocked at any given time. It's a random thing. They put boards across the other hole when it's not in use. Since you don't have to pay to use the booths, though, it's rare that the gloryhole is of any use to a cocksucker like me -- generally, some old queen has been camped out in there for hours, eyeball glued to the hole, by the time you arrive.
This time, though, there was a scraggly roofer-type guy with an enormous and beautiful cock on the other side of the hole. I hardly ever actually get enormous cocks in my cruising experiences (most guys, predictably enough, are average-sized), so when I do, I really try to make it last. I took him all the way to the verge of cumming several times, then backed off. He was very expressive. I felt like I was literally playing a musical instrument -- every flick of my tongue or motion of my mouth made a different noise come out of his face, about three feet above me and on the other side of the wall. Mostly sighing, but also little yips from time to time, and even panting like a pregnant lady right before he came.
That, and the pulsing of the vein under his cock, was the only sign that he had gotten off. His cock was so far down my throat when it happened that I didn't taste anything.
After he left (I jumped out of the booth to make sure I saw him -- scraggly, bearded, beat-down looking construction guy -- not the confident foreman type of construction guy, but the one just barely hanging onto a job who gets paid minimum wage, kind of construction guy). Hot.
Then I went into the theater. This place has a lot of old men. Now, I myself am pretty old (almost 50), and I don't believe in being rude to individuals just because of how long they happen to have lived. In daily life, I show a great deal of respect to gentlemen who are in their 70s and 80s. I just don't want to suck them off at an adult bookstore. Fortunately, they're not very aggressive. They just sort of sit there. I see them messing around with each other from time to time. I think the theater attracts these guys because they're retired, and because, as cruising goes, sitting in a plush (but filthy) theater seat is less physical strain than any other way. I imagine in twenty years I'll be sitting here with them, just trying my luck. Why not? But for now, they are of no interest to me.
The fat ugly guy who followed me in was sitting in the back row, on the seat that doesn't have a seat in front of it because the back row is longer than the other rows, with his legs conspicuously spread open, his cock out, playing with it. "Suck me," he shout-whispered across the theater.
I thought about it.
I decided he was too ugly for right now.
I went back to the booth area, but he followed me again. He got into the gloryhole booth.
So, yeah, I thought about it again. At least nobody would see me sucking the ugly guy this way. And it would take him out of the picture (if somebody hot did come in, his aggressiveness could possibly chase them away). So I decided, what the hell. I went into the booth and sucked him.
He had a small dick. It was one of those kind that seems to stay dry even when it's wet. Weird scaly texture. You know what I mean? I sucked and sucked. He was really enjoying it, humping the hole and whispering filthy stuff. Those ugly guys really get nasty when they get some, which is one of the things I like about ugly guys. When I took my mouth off and looked at his cock, he kept humping, kept up the obscenities, just like my mouth was still on it.
So I decided to let the ugly guy fuck me.
As soon as I got his cock in my hole (it didn't take any effort at all), he started cumming. He grunted three times, like a guy at the gym doing the last three sit-ups of a difficult set. I actually heard the cum fill up my ass, a little wet "click" sound (one advantage of a tiny cock in a large ass).
I didn't bother jumping out of the booth because I knew what he looked like.
I waited around for another thirty minutes or so, but nobody else showed up. It was just me and the old men. I decided to try my luck somewhere else. This is always the problem when I cruise the Kentucky side: I end up going to more than once place. It's an old habit from when I used to cruise here as a kid, and they were cheaper. There was a circuit I made, up and down 7th avenue then over to Dixie Highway and back. I can't get that out of my system, even though it's $10 a pop now for each bookstore.
I went to the one out on Dixie Highway, which is attached to a by-the-hour motel. You'd think that the motel and the bookstore would have a lot of crossover traffic, but if there is, I've never noticed it (and, like I said, I've been cruising these places since the early 90s).
This place is one where patience pays off. Hardly anybody goes there, but the percentage of downlow guys in the mix is very, very, very high. Most cruise spots, you're one of a dozen queens waiting for the straight guys to come in -- and when they do, one of you snaps him up and it's the next queen's turn the next time. At this place, you walk in and it's dead empty, but a random guy will come in, let you suck him, then leave you alone in the theater for another thirty minutes until another guy shows up. Ideally. I have been there when other queens were in there, and it does destroy the potential of the place. The traffic is so light, and there's such a long pause in between men, that just one other competitor can really screw with you and take every single cock (unlike the bookstore in Indiana, where there's plenty of cock to go around, usually, even though the halls are lined with fags).
As soon as I got through the buzzer-door, a black queen came out of the theater to get a look at me (when you're sitting in the theater, you can hear the money go in the slot, and it takes a while before the door opens, so this gives you a chance, if you want to take it, of having a look at everything that comes in). He was pretty good looking -- shaved head, beefy body, middle-class type guy -- but I could tell he was a cocksucker by the intensity in his eyes when he looked at me, and the disappointment that hit them immediately when he realized I was a cocksucker, too. He breezed on past. I went into the theater. There was one guy sitting in the back playing with himself, but I've seen that guy here before, and that's all he does.
They have their theater set up so that in addition to the theater chairs, there's an actual sofa sitting perpendicular to the screen at the far end. Usually guys who want to get sucked sit there, since it's more comfortable, and you can really spread your legs out. Since there wasn't any trade here, I sat there (strictly for the comfort) and kind of dozed off.
After a while, another black guy came in -- at first I thought it was the queen from when I first came in, but no. He walked into the theater, came down the second row of seats, which led directly to him standing right in front of my face. Pulled out his cock. I sucked it a while. It didn't get hard. He left the theater.
I decided to follow.
We went into a booth together. He was short, black as black gets, had a Roman nose and very intense eyes. I sucked him a while, then he started reaching behind me to touch my ass. I should mention that I have a large ass -- 46 waist, with almost all of that being in the behind rather than in the in-front. I don't have a special thing for black guys (I like them if they're masculine, just like I like any masculine man), but they often have a special thing for me, because of my big thick round ass. Here's a picture of it:
So I'm bent over trying to suck this short guy, and he's bent over me trying to get his fingers in my hole, while we're both in this tiny booth. It was awkward. I stood up. "Let me fuck that fat ass, bitch," he was saying to me. He was very into talking like a thug, though he wasn't dressed like one. I don't know if he assumed I had a thug fetish, or if he had one himself, but it wasn't very convincing (until a little later -- hang on). I still liked it. I let him try to fuck me for a little while, but he still wasn't hard. I'm loose enough that he was able to bang it in a few times, even half-hard. Then he pulled out, told me he wasn't ready to cum, and said, "clean it off with your mouth, bitch," which I did.
He hung out in the halls after that, playing on his phone (one of those Androids with the very wide screen -- I don't get it; those phones seem too big to me).
After a while a straight-looking white guy came in, went to a booth, and my guy (I'm going to call him Black Guy Number One, or BGNO, to distinguish him from another character who's going to show up in a minute) cruised him hard, knocking on the booth door, whispering through the crack, etc.
I went back to the theater. Dozed off again.
I heard BGNO talking to somebody out in the hall, so I decided to go see what was going on.
He was talking to another black guy -- this one was tall, and very fat in the belly, but masculine. When I came out of the theater, they both stopped talking. I stepped between them to go down the line of booths. They split up -- fat guy went into the theater, and BGNO followed me.
"You ought to suck that guy," he said. "He's got a big cock. Go suck him."
I went into the theater, and Black Guy Number Two was sitting on the sofa, legs spread, cock out. I went over and just knelt down and started sucking, without asking him or making any moves on it. He liked it. It wasn't all that big. It was thick, but short (partially because some of it was hidden in his gut).
"Yeah, suck that cock, white bitch," he said, with special emphasis on the last word.
Just like the first guy, I didn't really take the "bitch" part seriously. This guy seemed middle class to me. He was just playing out some fantasy of his own, or playing to a fantasy he assumed I was having. I thought.
After a while, Black Guy Number One came and stood close by, sort of over BGNT's shoulder, with his cock out. BGNT didn't notice at first. When he did, he stood up, arms out at his side (meanwhile I'm still kneeling there). "Get the fuck off me, N-----!"
BGNO and BGNT yelled at each other for a while, taking turns inviting each other out to the parking lot to fight, and etc. I kept kneeling there. Didn't know what to do.
Finally, Black Guy Number One starts to walk away, and I go back to sucking Number Two's cock. "Suck it bitch," he says, extra loud.
Which causes Number One to come back. "No, you don't get that bitch. That's my bitch." He tugs at my hair and pulls my head toward his crotch.
"Take the damn bitch, I don't want it," says Number Two.
I get up and start to leave with Number One (who was, let's face it, a lot hotter anyway), but Number Two yells back at us, "And I want my money back."
Number One reaches into his back pocket, pulls out his wallet, gets some bills out, hands them to the second guy, then grabs my shoulder. "Come on."
I mean: seriously. He had charged the second guy for my services! I'm just a fat forty-something cocksucker, not some hot little bitch -- this is the stuff of porn stories and lies. But it happened. I probably should have been offended (because a). I suck for free, and b). I wasn't seeing any of that money, and c). I didn't even know that he had done it), but it turned me on, to be honest.
I went into a booth with the first guy, he fucked me until he came, then I went back to the theater. Number Two was still sitting on the sofa.
"I'm sorry that happened," I said.
"It's all right," he said. He was playing on his phone -- also one of those wide Androids.
"Can I suck you now?"
"Better not."
"You don't have to pay. That other guy left."
He said, "I don't think he's gone."
I sat there a while watching him play on his phone, then I left.
He had been right: the first guy hadn't left. He followed me out the door. He followed me to my car. But I ignored him, and took off.
I guess he really did think I was his bitch.
Mid-week still seems to be the most interesting time to cruise for cock. Weekends, the bookstores around Louisville are too jam-packed with swinging straight couples and fashionable bar queens -- two categories of cruiser who tend to scare off my perfect trick, the "straight" guy who a). doesn't want to be seen by women, any women, even the ugly women in these swinging straight couples, letting a guy suck his dick, and b). doesn't want to be reminded of how "gay" what he's doing is, so the presence of silly gossiping queens is a sure turn-off, too.
I decided to stay on the Kentucky side of the river last night, mainly because of the remodeling over at my favorite bookstore in Indiana, which I mentioned in a previous post.
Over on this side, almost all the bookstores went to a similar business model a few years back. You feed a $10 bill into a slot in a door in the back of the store, which gives you entry to an area where there's a movie theater plus a bunch of video booths that play videos for "free" (not counting the ten bucks you paid to get back there, of course). I didn't like it when it first happened because it seriously cut down on the "young guy with only a couple of bucks to his name" trade. I still don't like it, but ah well. The way that it happened all at once, for almost all of the bookstores over here (there's only one exception), makes me think that it was a legal thing. Maybe if there's a locked door between the public and the cruising, the cruisers have more of a legal right to do what they're doing, or a presumption of privacy, or something? The one exception to this scheme, a bookstore I hardly ever go to, actually has a locked front door: you have to ring a doorbell to be let into the store itself. But once inside, you pay individually for booth time and/or to go back to the movie theater, just like the old days. I hardly ever go there. I don't know why.
First I went to a place called "Showboat," where I've been cruising on and off since around 1992 or so. I could fill several books with stories of cruising there, but I don't trust my memory when it comes to any sex story more than 72 hours or so old. They get better over time, I think, and shade into fantasy, which is why I only write about things that have just recently happened.
I was followed in by a fat, ugly guy. More on him later.
At Showboat, there are two gloryholes, but only one of them is unblocked at any given time. It's a random thing. They put boards across the other hole when it's not in use. Since you don't have to pay to use the booths, though, it's rare that the gloryhole is of any use to a cocksucker like me -- generally, some old queen has been camped out in there for hours, eyeball glued to the hole, by the time you arrive.
This time, though, there was a scraggly roofer-type guy with an enormous and beautiful cock on the other side of the hole. I hardly ever actually get enormous cocks in my cruising experiences (most guys, predictably enough, are average-sized), so when I do, I really try to make it last. I took him all the way to the verge of cumming several times, then backed off. He was very expressive. I felt like I was literally playing a musical instrument -- every flick of my tongue or motion of my mouth made a different noise come out of his face, about three feet above me and on the other side of the wall. Mostly sighing, but also little yips from time to time, and even panting like a pregnant lady right before he came.
That, and the pulsing of the vein under his cock, was the only sign that he had gotten off. His cock was so far down my throat when it happened that I didn't taste anything.
After he left (I jumped out of the booth to make sure I saw him -- scraggly, bearded, beat-down looking construction guy -- not the confident foreman type of construction guy, but the one just barely hanging onto a job who gets paid minimum wage, kind of construction guy). Hot.
Then I went into the theater. This place has a lot of old men. Now, I myself am pretty old (almost 50), and I don't believe in being rude to individuals just because of how long they happen to have lived. In daily life, I show a great deal of respect to gentlemen who are in their 70s and 80s. I just don't want to suck them off at an adult bookstore. Fortunately, they're not very aggressive. They just sort of sit there. I see them messing around with each other from time to time. I think the theater attracts these guys because they're retired, and because, as cruising goes, sitting in a plush (but filthy) theater seat is less physical strain than any other way. I imagine in twenty years I'll be sitting here with them, just trying my luck. Why not? But for now, they are of no interest to me.
The fat ugly guy who followed me in was sitting in the back row, on the seat that doesn't have a seat in front of it because the back row is longer than the other rows, with his legs conspicuously spread open, his cock out, playing with it. "Suck me," he shout-whispered across the theater.
I thought about it.
I decided he was too ugly for right now.
I went back to the booth area, but he followed me again. He got into the gloryhole booth.
So, yeah, I thought about it again. At least nobody would see me sucking the ugly guy this way. And it would take him out of the picture (if somebody hot did come in, his aggressiveness could possibly chase them away). So I decided, what the hell. I went into the booth and sucked him.
He had a small dick. It was one of those kind that seems to stay dry even when it's wet. Weird scaly texture. You know what I mean? I sucked and sucked. He was really enjoying it, humping the hole and whispering filthy stuff. Those ugly guys really get nasty when they get some, which is one of the things I like about ugly guys. When I took my mouth off and looked at his cock, he kept humping, kept up the obscenities, just like my mouth was still on it.
So I decided to let the ugly guy fuck me.
As soon as I got his cock in my hole (it didn't take any effort at all), he started cumming. He grunted three times, like a guy at the gym doing the last three sit-ups of a difficult set. I actually heard the cum fill up my ass, a little wet "click" sound (one advantage of a tiny cock in a large ass).
I didn't bother jumping out of the booth because I knew what he looked like.
I waited around for another thirty minutes or so, but nobody else showed up. It was just me and the old men. I decided to try my luck somewhere else. This is always the problem when I cruise the Kentucky side: I end up going to more than once place. It's an old habit from when I used to cruise here as a kid, and they were cheaper. There was a circuit I made, up and down 7th avenue then over to Dixie Highway and back. I can't get that out of my system, even though it's $10 a pop now for each bookstore.
I went to the one out on Dixie Highway, which is attached to a by-the-hour motel. You'd think that the motel and the bookstore would have a lot of crossover traffic, but if there is, I've never noticed it (and, like I said, I've been cruising these places since the early 90s).
This place is one where patience pays off. Hardly anybody goes there, but the percentage of downlow guys in the mix is very, very, very high. Most cruise spots, you're one of a dozen queens waiting for the straight guys to come in -- and when they do, one of you snaps him up and it's the next queen's turn the next time. At this place, you walk in and it's dead empty, but a random guy will come in, let you suck him, then leave you alone in the theater for another thirty minutes until another guy shows up. Ideally. I have been there when other queens were in there, and it does destroy the potential of the place. The traffic is so light, and there's such a long pause in between men, that just one other competitor can really screw with you and take every single cock (unlike the bookstore in Indiana, where there's plenty of cock to go around, usually, even though the halls are lined with fags).
As soon as I got through the buzzer-door, a black queen came out of the theater to get a look at me (when you're sitting in the theater, you can hear the money go in the slot, and it takes a while before the door opens, so this gives you a chance, if you want to take it, of having a look at everything that comes in). He was pretty good looking -- shaved head, beefy body, middle-class type guy -- but I could tell he was a cocksucker by the intensity in his eyes when he looked at me, and the disappointment that hit them immediately when he realized I was a cocksucker, too. He breezed on past. I went into the theater. There was one guy sitting in the back playing with himself, but I've seen that guy here before, and that's all he does.
They have their theater set up so that in addition to the theater chairs, there's an actual sofa sitting perpendicular to the screen at the far end. Usually guys who want to get sucked sit there, since it's more comfortable, and you can really spread your legs out. Since there wasn't any trade here, I sat there (strictly for the comfort) and kind of dozed off.
After a while, another black guy came in -- at first I thought it was the queen from when I first came in, but no. He walked into the theater, came down the second row of seats, which led directly to him standing right in front of my face. Pulled out his cock. I sucked it a while. It didn't get hard. He left the theater.
I decided to follow.
We went into a booth together. He was short, black as black gets, had a Roman nose and very intense eyes. I sucked him a while, then he started reaching behind me to touch my ass. I should mention that I have a large ass -- 46 waist, with almost all of that being in the behind rather than in the in-front. I don't have a special thing for black guys (I like them if they're masculine, just like I like any masculine man), but they often have a special thing for me, because of my big thick round ass. Here's a picture of it:
So I'm bent over trying to suck this short guy, and he's bent over me trying to get his fingers in my hole, while we're both in this tiny booth. It was awkward. I stood up. "Let me fuck that fat ass, bitch," he was saying to me. He was very into talking like a thug, though he wasn't dressed like one. I don't know if he assumed I had a thug fetish, or if he had one himself, but it wasn't very convincing (until a little later -- hang on). I still liked it. I let him try to fuck me for a little while, but he still wasn't hard. I'm loose enough that he was able to bang it in a few times, even half-hard. Then he pulled out, told me he wasn't ready to cum, and said, "clean it off with your mouth, bitch," which I did.
He hung out in the halls after that, playing on his phone (one of those Androids with the very wide screen -- I don't get it; those phones seem too big to me).
After a while a straight-looking white guy came in, went to a booth, and my guy (I'm going to call him Black Guy Number One, or BGNO, to distinguish him from another character who's going to show up in a minute) cruised him hard, knocking on the booth door, whispering through the crack, etc.
I went back to the theater. Dozed off again.
I heard BGNO talking to somebody out in the hall, so I decided to go see what was going on.
He was talking to another black guy -- this one was tall, and very fat in the belly, but masculine. When I came out of the theater, they both stopped talking. I stepped between them to go down the line of booths. They split up -- fat guy went into the theater, and BGNO followed me.
"You ought to suck that guy," he said. "He's got a big cock. Go suck him."
I went into the theater, and Black Guy Number Two was sitting on the sofa, legs spread, cock out. I went over and just knelt down and started sucking, without asking him or making any moves on it. He liked it. It wasn't all that big. It was thick, but short (partially because some of it was hidden in his gut).
"Yeah, suck that cock, white bitch," he said, with special emphasis on the last word.
Just like the first guy, I didn't really take the "bitch" part seriously. This guy seemed middle class to me. He was just playing out some fantasy of his own, or playing to a fantasy he assumed I was having. I thought.
After a while, Black Guy Number One came and stood close by, sort of over BGNT's shoulder, with his cock out. BGNT didn't notice at first. When he did, he stood up, arms out at his side (meanwhile I'm still kneeling there). "Get the fuck off me, N-----!"
BGNO and BGNT yelled at each other for a while, taking turns inviting each other out to the parking lot to fight, and etc. I kept kneeling there. Didn't know what to do.
Finally, Black Guy Number One starts to walk away, and I go back to sucking Number Two's cock. "Suck it bitch," he says, extra loud.
Which causes Number One to come back. "No, you don't get that bitch. That's my bitch." He tugs at my hair and pulls my head toward his crotch.
"Take the damn bitch, I don't want it," says Number Two.
I get up and start to leave with Number One (who was, let's face it, a lot hotter anyway), but Number Two yells back at us, "And I want my money back."
Number One reaches into his back pocket, pulls out his wallet, gets some bills out, hands them to the second guy, then grabs my shoulder. "Come on."
I mean: seriously. He had charged the second guy for my services! I'm just a fat forty-something cocksucker, not some hot little bitch -- this is the stuff of porn stories and lies. But it happened. I probably should have been offended (because a). I suck for free, and b). I wasn't seeing any of that money, and c). I didn't even know that he had done it), but it turned me on, to be honest.
I went into a booth with the first guy, he fucked me until he came, then I went back to the theater. Number Two was still sitting on the sofa.
"I'm sorry that happened," I said.
"It's all right," he said. He was playing on his phone -- also one of those wide Androids.
"Can I suck you now?"
"Better not."
"You don't have to pay. That other guy left."
He said, "I don't think he's gone."
I sat there a while watching him play on his phone, then I left.
He had been right: the first guy hadn't left. He followed me out the door. He followed me to my car. But I ignored him, and took off.
I guess he really did think I was his bitch.
Friday, November 4, 2011
The Cruising Gods Must Be Punishing Me ...
... for having such a good time last Tuesday night.
I went to the same book store tonight only to find that they'd blocked off one of the rows and one of the aisles with plyboard -- basically cutting the whole space down by 1/3. I'm not good at describing spatial relationships, so I'll draw pictures instead. Here's what the space used to look like:
Here's what the space looks like now:
I went to the same book store tonight only to find that they'd blocked off one of the rows and one of the aisles with plyboard -- basically cutting the whole space down by 1/3. I'm not good at describing spatial relationships, so I'll draw pictures instead. Here's what the space used to look like:
Here's what the space looks like now:
With the old layout, there was just more circulation and tactical maneuverability. Somebody could come in and you could double around and catch him coming the other way, instead of following his ass like the desperate old queens do. And so on. With the new layout, cruisers get stuck in the dead ends and collect along the walls, standing in front of the booth doors giggling with each other and gossiping. I find this kind of atmosphere kills the sexy-- it makes me irritable, for one thing, and it also scares off the "straight" guys I like, because the space they're entering just feels too, well, frankly, nellie, when you've got a bunch of cackling queens in a knitting circle. The guys I'm after don't like to be reminded that they're here for, you know, the gay. The only way to get a guy, even if he did run the gauntlet, is if he happened to go into the booth directly beside where you chose to stand -- there's no chasing around corners or out-smarting the followers, with this layout. It's more luck-of-the-draw.
I don't like it.
I left after five minutes.
Hopefully they're doing something interesting with that blocked-off space, though (that it has its own door -- the one that used to be the exit -- is intriguing).
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Last Tuesday's Loads #s 7 & 8: Two Straight Men
My boyfriend called at this point and wondered when I was coming home. I told him I was having fun. He said, "Okay, but don't be out forever."
I didn't mention I have a boyfriend? I have a boyfriend. We both fuck around like mindless whores.
Another occupied booth with a gloryhole, another empty booth beside it. I always check. This time, there was a 50-something Mexican peasant-looking guy in there (big white Zapata mustache, little teensy cowboy boots, bluejeans tucked into them). I sucked him a while out of sheer boredom. He wasn't hot. He wasn't unhot. He was straight as could be (wedding band, watching a chick-on-chick porn), according to my personal definition of "straight" (which is possibly different from yours, I don't care). He pulled out, sat back on the stool, and waved me over before I had a chance to get him to fuck me through the hole. He wanted me in his booth.
I've found that it's harder to get straight guys to fuck you when you go into the booth with them (it always helps to get a little of their tip into a little of my manpussy and let them feel how sweet it is, you know, by surprise -- they often can't resist after that, but the gloryhole is a necessary part of that procedure). So, yeah, I gave up on getting fucked. I just sucked him off to the best of my ability. Then, to my surprise, he started slapping my ass through my pants while I was sucking him.
Hot dog!
I stood up, gave him my ass, he fucked it, he came, the end.
The last guy of the evening had been there for hours: large trucker type guy, very short black hair, mustache, beard, extremely muscular arms. Carried most of his weight immediately under his rib-cage. Obviously a football player type gone to seed (trucking will do that to you). He had been walking up and down the aisles, going into non-gloryhole booths, and generally brushing off any attempt by any queen to cruise him.
He started to leave. He actually walked out of the arcade. As he passed me, I caught his eye and licked my lips. He raised his eyebrows and kept going. But then the wall with the VHS boxes showing which films were playing in the booths seemed to stop him. That's in the transition area between the arcade and the rest of the store. He stood there. I stood close by, kept licking my lips.
Eventually, he went back into the arcades and went into a gloryhole booth. I was right behind him into the one next door.
Then an hour of boredom while he stood there watching a movie, playing with his dick inside his sweatpants.
Maybe not an hour. Maybe more like twenty minutes. Or even five. But it felt like forever.
I knew that he knew there was a gloryhole, because he had gone to a couple of other booths and looked in them before choosing this one.
I knew he knew I was there because I had made a lot of noise getting in.
I was about to leave the place myself. I decided to take a chance I don't usually take.
"Let me suck it," I whispered through the door.
No response.
"Shoot your jizz into my slut mouth," I said.
No response.
But he also didn't stop playing with himself.
"I just hand out here all day eating jizz," I said. "It's all I want. "It's all I'm good for."
Eventually, after a lot of this kind of dirty talk, he half-turned toward the hole. He still didn't take his dick out.
"Please," I whispered. "Please. Oh please give it to me. Just fuck the wall, dude. Nobody will ever know."
Nothing. He kept playing with himself.
I kept it up.
He eventually took his dick out.
Then he slowly started moving it toward the hole.
I cannot express to you how slowly. It took him forever to make enough progress that my lips were barely brushing the head of his cock as it bobbed back and forth while he frigged it.
Then he came, and when he did, he just shoved his cock directly into my mouth and unloaded, grunt, grunt, grunt.
I'm guessing the part about me sitting around wanting to eat cum is what got to him, because it seemed very important to him that I take the load, even though he had not let me suck it or make myself responsible for his actual orgasm in any way. I was just there to catch it.
Which I loved.
Then he left.
Then I did.
I haven't mentioned all the other gay bitches who were there slouching in the halls in quite some time. I should mention them. Those bitches? They were over me. You should have seen the looks I was getting as I walked out the door.
Sorry, bitches.
I didn't mention I have a boyfriend? I have a boyfriend. We both fuck around like mindless whores.
Another occupied booth with a gloryhole, another empty booth beside it. I always check. This time, there was a 50-something Mexican peasant-looking guy in there (big white Zapata mustache, little teensy cowboy boots, bluejeans tucked into them). I sucked him a while out of sheer boredom. He wasn't hot. He wasn't unhot. He was straight as could be (wedding band, watching a chick-on-chick porn), according to my personal definition of "straight" (which is possibly different from yours, I don't care). He pulled out, sat back on the stool, and waved me over before I had a chance to get him to fuck me through the hole. He wanted me in his booth.
I've found that it's harder to get straight guys to fuck you when you go into the booth with them (it always helps to get a little of their tip into a little of my manpussy and let them feel how sweet it is, you know, by surprise -- they often can't resist after that, but the gloryhole is a necessary part of that procedure). So, yeah, I gave up on getting fucked. I just sucked him off to the best of my ability. Then, to my surprise, he started slapping my ass through my pants while I was sucking him.
Hot dog!
I stood up, gave him my ass, he fucked it, he came, the end.
The last guy of the evening had been there for hours: large trucker type guy, very short black hair, mustache, beard, extremely muscular arms. Carried most of his weight immediately under his rib-cage. Obviously a football player type gone to seed (trucking will do that to you). He had been walking up and down the aisles, going into non-gloryhole booths, and generally brushing off any attempt by any queen to cruise him.
He started to leave. He actually walked out of the arcade. As he passed me, I caught his eye and licked my lips. He raised his eyebrows and kept going. But then the wall with the VHS boxes showing which films were playing in the booths seemed to stop him. That's in the transition area between the arcade and the rest of the store. He stood there. I stood close by, kept licking my lips.
Eventually, he went back into the arcades and went into a gloryhole booth. I was right behind him into the one next door.
Then an hour of boredom while he stood there watching a movie, playing with his dick inside his sweatpants.
Maybe not an hour. Maybe more like twenty minutes. Or even five. But it felt like forever.
I knew that he knew there was a gloryhole, because he had gone to a couple of other booths and looked in them before choosing this one.
I knew he knew I was there because I had made a lot of noise getting in.
I was about to leave the place myself. I decided to take a chance I don't usually take.
"Let me suck it," I whispered through the door.
No response.
"Shoot your jizz into my slut mouth," I said.
No response.
But he also didn't stop playing with himself.
"I just hand out here all day eating jizz," I said. "It's all I want. "It's all I'm good for."
Eventually, after a lot of this kind of dirty talk, he half-turned toward the hole. He still didn't take his dick out.
"Please," I whispered. "Please. Oh please give it to me. Just fuck the wall, dude. Nobody will ever know."
Nothing. He kept playing with himself.
I kept it up.
He eventually took his dick out.
Then he slowly started moving it toward the hole.
I cannot express to you how slowly. It took him forever to make enough progress that my lips were barely brushing the head of his cock as it bobbed back and forth while he frigged it.
Then he came, and when he did, he just shoved his cock directly into my mouth and unloaded, grunt, grunt, grunt.
I'm guessing the part about me sitting around wanting to eat cum is what got to him, because it seemed very important to him that I take the load, even though he had not let me suck it or make myself responsible for his actual orgasm in any way. I was just there to catch it.
Which I loved.
Then he left.
Then I did.
I haven't mentioned all the other gay bitches who were there slouching in the halls in quite some time. I should mention them. Those bitches? They were over me. You should have seen the looks I was getting as I walked out the door.
Sorry, bitches.
Last Tuesday Load #s 5 & 6: Two Gays
I usually try to avoid gay guys.
Let me define "gay," since some of you may be confused about this. "Gay," for the purposes of my cruising definition (which may be different from the definition I use when I use the word in other contexts) means: openly acknowledging of one's own homosexuality. I prefer to suck off guys who think they're straight, is another way of putting it.
So: if a guy's watching a gay movie in the booth, no matter how hot he is, I generally avoid him. Because he knows he's gay.
Also: if he wants to suck my dick, or get fucked by me, my interest usually evaporates immediately. Because he knows he's gay.
Last Tuesday, though, after taking four loads, I was on fire with lust, so I didn't care as much as usual. I did two obviously gay guys in a row.
The first was an older guy in a Hawaiian shirt who was watching a gay movie. He stuck his cock through the hole (tiny, curved upward), and I didn't even bother trying to suck on it. I just wanted loads in my ass at this point. I just stuck my ass directly onto his dick, figuring that if he didn't want to fuck me, I wasn't that much into it anyway.
He did want to fuck me.
Or, rather, I should say: he came immediately. I'm not sure if he wanted to fuck me or not, really.
The second guy was super-hot in a hipster way. He's the one I mentioned earlier with the weird Mesopotamian-looking beard that curved like waves. He was in his twenties (I swear I'm not usually popular with young guys -- don't know what was up last Tuesday -- the fish were biting, I guess). He caught my eye as I passed him, then followed me, cruising me heavily.
I went into a booth with a hole. He dropped to his knees. What the hell, I thought. I stuck my dick through. He sucked it for just a second, then stood up and stuck his through.
Again, I was just horned-out on my ass at this point. Which is not my usual thing. But I'd taken so many loads up there, I felt like I wanted to make it a record-breaking night. Not that I actually know how many loads I've had in my ass on an actual record-breaking night. But either way. I was getting ass-greedy.
I stuck my ass to his cock. He groaned. We fucked back and forth. His cock was rock, rock hard, curved and thick. It actually hurt a little bit (another thing that's rare for me), mostly because of how hard it was, and how sharply he was jerking it in and out, not the size. He came, he left, I pulled up my pants and went looking for more.
Let me define "gay," since some of you may be confused about this. "Gay," for the purposes of my cruising definition (which may be different from the definition I use when I use the word in other contexts) means: openly acknowledging of one's own homosexuality. I prefer to suck off guys who think they're straight, is another way of putting it.
So: if a guy's watching a gay movie in the booth, no matter how hot he is, I generally avoid him. Because he knows he's gay.
Also: if he wants to suck my dick, or get fucked by me, my interest usually evaporates immediately. Because he knows he's gay.
Last Tuesday, though, after taking four loads, I was on fire with lust, so I didn't care as much as usual. I did two obviously gay guys in a row.
The first was an older guy in a Hawaiian shirt who was watching a gay movie. He stuck his cock through the hole (tiny, curved upward), and I didn't even bother trying to suck on it. I just wanted loads in my ass at this point. I just stuck my ass directly onto his dick, figuring that if he didn't want to fuck me, I wasn't that much into it anyway.
He did want to fuck me.
Or, rather, I should say: he came immediately. I'm not sure if he wanted to fuck me or not, really.
The second guy was super-hot in a hipster way. He's the one I mentioned earlier with the weird Mesopotamian-looking beard that curved like waves. He was in his twenties (I swear I'm not usually popular with young guys -- don't know what was up last Tuesday -- the fish were biting, I guess). He caught my eye as I passed him, then followed me, cruising me heavily.
I went into a booth with a hole. He dropped to his knees. What the hell, I thought. I stuck my dick through. He sucked it for just a second, then stood up and stuck his through.
Again, I was just horned-out on my ass at this point. Which is not my usual thing. But I'd taken so many loads up there, I felt like I wanted to make it a record-breaking night. Not that I actually know how many loads I've had in my ass on an actual record-breaking night. But either way. I was getting ass-greedy.
I stuck my ass to his cock. He groaned. We fucked back and forth. His cock was rock, rock hard, curved and thick. It actually hurt a little bit (another thing that's rare for me), mostly because of how hard it was, and how sharply he was jerking it in and out, not the size. He came, he left, I pulled up my pants and went looking for more.
Last Tuesday Load # 4: Fat Trucker Came on the Floor
I am not a chubby chaser myself, in that fatness doesn't turn me on. Unlike most gay guys, though, fatness in and of itself does not always turn me off, either. Some big guys -- big, beefy, supermasculine truckers in particular, let's say -- really turn me on. Not because they're fat, but because they're real men. I like skinny supermasculine truckers, too. And normal-sized ones, as long as they're supermasculine. See the common thread? The fatness doesn't matter one way or another.
While I was sitting on the stool in the corner playing with my iPhone, before I hooked up with the titty-fucker (see previous post), I saw one hot fat dude go into the theater. The theater is separate from the arcade (the stool sits in the corner strategically so that you can see who goes in and out of the theater when you sit on it). Paying to go to the arcade does not get you admission to the theater, but paying to go to the theater does get you admission into the arcade. Almost every semi-hot guy who goes into the theater eventually comes out to get his dick sucked in the arcade, so I had made a mental note to myself about this guy.
He reminded me of a fat Johnny Depp. Which is hard to imagine, I know. But ponder on it a bit.
By the time I finished up with the titty-fucker, the fat trucker dude was already cruising the arcade. He just happened to pass me by as I stepped out of the booth, so I stepped right into step behind him. He went into one of the booths with a hole. I went into its counterpart. He stuck his cock through. I sucked it. Yay.
Problem was he was so fat that he was having trouble angling his body so that the cock would go all the way through the hole. His belly kept getting in the way. After a few frustrating attempts to get his cock down my throat, I asked him if I could come over to his booth, and he said OK.
Once I got into the booth, things went easier. He had a nice cock -- the type I call a "rocketship," thick at the base, narrow at the head. The very, very base of it was buried deep in his fat so I had to push my head into his belly to get the cock to break my gag point. He liked that (sometimes they don't). After sucking on it for a few strokes I pulled off, looked him in the eyes, and said that I like to get fucked, too. He nodded absently the way you do when somebody has said something weird an inappropriate, so I went back to sucking him.
I love an appreciative man. Every time I went down, he sucked his own breath in and held it. Everytime I came off, he exhaled and cursed gently under his breath. "Faggot." "Whore." "Cocksucker." Not for me to hear. In fact, he was whispering so low I'm pretty sure he didn't want me, necessarily to hear. But I loved hearing it.
When he pulled me off and asked me if I wanted to take his cum up the ass, I said, eagerly, "Yes sir!"
But as I got up and started pulling my pants off, I noticed that he was already coming. I'm not sure if he even realized it himself before I did. Two good thick white jolts shot to the floor, straight as bullets. I jumped back down, put my mouth on his cock (he screamed in pleasure) and sucked whatever was left. Then I rubbed my fingers on the floor to try to pick up the cum that he had shot there, and licked them.
Since he was still hard, I decided to try to get him to fuck me still. He did get it in, but wasn't able to keep it hard.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Don't be sorry," I said. "That's just what I get for being so good at sucking cock."
"You are good at it," he said.
While I was sitting on the stool in the corner playing with my iPhone, before I hooked up with the titty-fucker (see previous post), I saw one hot fat dude go into the theater. The theater is separate from the arcade (the stool sits in the corner strategically so that you can see who goes in and out of the theater when you sit on it). Paying to go to the arcade does not get you admission to the theater, but paying to go to the theater does get you admission into the arcade. Almost every semi-hot guy who goes into the theater eventually comes out to get his dick sucked in the arcade, so I had made a mental note to myself about this guy.
He reminded me of a fat Johnny Depp. Which is hard to imagine, I know. But ponder on it a bit.
By the time I finished up with the titty-fucker, the fat trucker dude was already cruising the arcade. He just happened to pass me by as I stepped out of the booth, so I stepped right into step behind him. He went into one of the booths with a hole. I went into its counterpart. He stuck his cock through. I sucked it. Yay.
Problem was he was so fat that he was having trouble angling his body so that the cock would go all the way through the hole. His belly kept getting in the way. After a few frustrating attempts to get his cock down my throat, I asked him if I could come over to his booth, and he said OK.
Once I got into the booth, things went easier. He had a nice cock -- the type I call a "rocketship," thick at the base, narrow at the head. The very, very base of it was buried deep in his fat so I had to push my head into his belly to get the cock to break my gag point. He liked that (sometimes they don't). After sucking on it for a few strokes I pulled off, looked him in the eyes, and said that I like to get fucked, too. He nodded absently the way you do when somebody has said something weird an inappropriate, so I went back to sucking him.
I love an appreciative man. Every time I went down, he sucked his own breath in and held it. Everytime I came off, he exhaled and cursed gently under his breath. "Faggot." "Whore." "Cocksucker." Not for me to hear. In fact, he was whispering so low I'm pretty sure he didn't want me, necessarily to hear. But I loved hearing it.
When he pulled me off and asked me if I wanted to take his cum up the ass, I said, eagerly, "Yes sir!"
But as I got up and started pulling my pants off, I noticed that he was already coming. I'm not sure if he even realized it himself before I did. Two good thick white jolts shot to the floor, straight as bullets. I jumped back down, put my mouth on his cock (he screamed in pleasure) and sucked whatever was left. Then I rubbed my fingers on the floor to try to pick up the cum that he had shot there, and licked them.
Since he was still hard, I decided to try to get him to fuck me still. He did get it in, but wasn't able to keep it hard.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Don't be sorry," I said. "That's just what I get for being so good at sucking cock."
"You are good at it," he said.
Load # 3: Did I Mention I Like to Get Titty-Fucked?
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Load # 2: Black Kid with a Goofy Goatee
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How To Get A Straight Guy To Fuck Your Ass Bareback Through A Glory Hole
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