“And I’m a murderer. I’m about to go kill someone,” I replied.
“Your friend didn’t say anything. I was standing two feet behind you when you said I looked like an insurance agent. Don’t be embarrassed. I thought it was funny.”
That wasn’t all that Shel found funny. I’m sure he finds my present humiliation hilarious.
I wonder if Shel has already arranged this meeting via a chat-room. Nevertheless, the walk to the bar is one of the longest in my life.
I move in to the left of the man with the beard. “Excuse me,” I say.
He’s talking to his friends, seated on the right. I have to repeat myself before he acknowledges me. “Yes?”
I lean in close. His cologne smells lemony. “I want… I want to suck your cock.”
An interminable moment passes before the man responds. He looks at me, thick eyebrows raised, like he’s not sure he heard me correctly. His eyes travel down my body and back up to my face. Then the man with the beard smiles.
We meet in the alley behind the restaurant. A sagging chain-link fence separates the alley from a neighboring vacant lot. Clouds hide the moon and there’s the chance of rain in the air. Except for a pool of bluish-white light emanating from the security lamp above the restaurant’s back door, the alley is dark, ominous—and exciting.
We move behind a Dumpster.
“Take it out.” My voice is a whisper over sandpaper.
The bearded guy says, “Why don’t you take it out for me?”
On my knees I face the sizeable bulge in his khaki pants. I’m so eager that I rip open his fly, yank down his underwear and pull his cock into the night air.
I’m speechless.
The moment reminds me of the astonishment at seeing Shel’s cock for the first time, when I was “dating” Aaron. Aaron took me back to his place, a condo in a luxury high-rise I couldn’t imagine someone in his early twenties affording. It wasn’t Aaron’s place, it turned out. And Aaron wasn’t a date; he was bait. While I was fucking Aaron, pounding his petite ass doggie-style, in walked the condo’s real owner, Shel, a lewd tent pitched in his black silk pajama bottoms.
His intrusion startled me, then pissed me off. Aaron was unfazed, of course: Shel was expected, and Aaron was expecting the middle-aged accountant’s cock in his mouth. Shel, ever the gracious host, untied the drawstring to his pajamas and let them fall around his ankles.
“Jesus Christ,” I whispered. Shel had the most perfect cock I’d ever seen: long and thick, crowned with a dark, rosy helmet glistening with precum. The sight of Shel’s cock made me forget my initial anger. It made me forget about Aaron. I watched Aaron slurp on the older man’s fat tool with such obvious delight that all I wanted was to wrap my mouth around that monster and worship it, too.
Just like I want to worship the bearded man’s cock now. His cock isn’t as thick as Shel’s, but it is longer, though not by much. It’s also uncut, the foreskin rolled back to reveal a shiny, succulent head. I prod the folds of foreskin with my tongue, and from there I glide along the rim of the cockhead. He watches me intently as I rub his swollen dong across my face, across my mouth. I savor the smoothness of the skin and its vaguely musky smell. A thick drop of precum lands on my cheek, and I rub it in with the crown of his cock. I cup his balls, feeling their weight in my hands. When I nuzzle the hairy scrotum I get another whiff of his manly scent.
I take the cock into my mouth—deep, until the tip of my nose is brushing his pubes and his cockhead is hitting the back of my throat. The man with the beard grunts as if he’s just been punched. His grunts become moans as my lips travel up and down that magnificent cock, as my tongue massages the shaft and laves the head.
My own cock is aching with a pain that’s as enjoyable as it is excruciating. I want to jack off as I suck this well-hung stranger, but I have to wait for my release. So I keep my hands busy with his prick, one gripping his shaft while the other circles his nut sac and tugs, just enough to make the man’s body twitch and his cock pulse.
The space around us becomes crowded and the man suddenly withdraws. His two friends have joined us. One is tall and broad shouldered, with short blond hair retreating from his temples. He dresses like he wishes he were ten years younger. The other man is tall, slim and looks like he’s of Indian descent. His black, curly hair is gelled into submission and small, delicate glasses shield his dark eyes. The men’s expressions make it clear their cocks are doing all the thinking, and a glance at their crotches tells me they’re thinking real hard.
Behind the two men, in partial shadow, stands Shel.
“Go on,” he says, and I return to sucking the bearded man’s cock.
The man is self-conscious now, but I quickly make him forget our audience. I swallow his cock in a single, lusty gulp. He cries out and I suck his dick harder, only pulling it out of my mouth to tell him how much I love sucking his cock. He grips my head with his hands, pulling my hair while he fucks my mouth. Thunder rumbles in the distance.
The bearded man announces his orgasm in fast, shallow breaths. “All over his face,” Shel says. “Cover his face with your load.” I think of that time, months ago, when Shel walked in on Aaron and me, when Aaron sucked Shel’s cock until he was rewarded with a thick load that coated the left side of his pretty face. I’d wanted to lick Shel’s cockhead clean, but he told me to stay put, to just watch as Aaron gently—lovingly—brushed his tongue against the oozing crown of Shel’s prick as the older man stroked Aaron’s golden hair. Shel had then looked at me as if he’d just discovered my presence. That’s when he told me that if I wanted to taste his load I could lick it off Aaron’s face. And I did, happily.
Now I’m about to get my face covered in the bearded man’s cum. But he doesn’t pull his cock out of my mouth in time, if he intended to at all. The bitter taste erupts in my mouth and I pull back, his exploding cock popping from between my lips. The other men cheer—“Oh, yeah!” “Shoot that load!”—as spunk splatters my chin. I turn my face to catch another splat along my left jaw. The man groans loudly, shaking the last drops from his cock. I lunge forward, grabbing his dick and slurping the jizz off the pulsing head. “Damn,” says one of the men, sounding simultaneously shocked and impressed. But I’m only interested in impressing one man, and so far he’s keeping quiet.
The man with the beard lets out a final, satisfied groan. He smiles at me, shakes his head and steps away, stuffing his cock back into his pants.
I’m sorry to see that cock disappear, but there are two more to take its place. Both the blond and the Indian have pulled out their hard-ons. Their cocks aren’t as big as the bearded man’s, but I want to suck them all the same. The blond guy’s cock is cut, curves in the middle and tapers to a point; it resembles a pink, veined banana. The Indian’s dick is two shades darker than the rest of him, except for the plump head, which is a pink-hued tan. Shel remains in the background, wearing a Mona Lisa smile.
The Indian steps up and bats me in the face with his cock. “Stick out your tongue,” he hisses. His aggressiveness startles me. Because he wears glasses and—I’m ashamed to admit—because of his ethnicity, I’d expected him to be shy. The Indian squeezes a fat tear of precum onto the tip of my tongue. I want to close my mouth, savor the taste, but he has other ideas. Suddenly, my mouth is filled with his cock.
“Oh, yeah, suck it,” the Indian sighs.
The blond guy moves in beside his friend, stroking his stiff prick as I suck off the Indian with deep gulps. My arousal is torturous—my cock is really hurting. I reach between my legs to squeeze my crotch, only to hear Shel snap, “Not yet!” I reach instead for the blond guy’s cock, playing with it while his friend thrusts his dick down my throat. Lightning crackles through the clouds, chased by thunder.
The restaurant’s back door opens. The blond guy spins around, frantically trying to get his cock back into his pants. The Indian freezes, the proverbial deer in headlights. The bearded guy has long since disappeared. A waiter stands in the doo
rway, an unlit cigarette inches from his lips. It’s the same waiter who took our drink order earlier. He’s young, well built and as embarrassed as we are.
Correction: as embarrassed as most of us are. Shel says, calmly: “Instead of sucking on that cigarette, how about letting my friend suck you.”
A beat goes by before the waiter chuckles. He returns the cigarette to its pack and ambles toward us.
I return my attention to the Indian’s cock. He’s not so aggressive now, the waiter’s appearance having broken the sexual spell. Likewise the blond guy remains a little out of sorts, cautiously pulling his cock out into the night air but poised to stuff it back in should someone else surprise us.
Shel, of course, loves surprises, especially if he’s the one doing the surprising. Several weeks ago he had a guest from out of town—Loren, a guy he used to work with, about the same age as Shel but, truth be told, a whole lot hotter. On Loren’s second night in town, while we were lounging in the living room, chatting after dinner, Shel began discussing what a hot fuck I am. I’m used to Shel bragging, but with Loren he got uncomfortably graphic: “I’ll shoot my load into a bowl and he’ll lap it up like a dog.” Then Shel told me to suck Loren’s cock. Loren, already mortified by Shel’s conversation, protested. “C’mon, this is going too far.”
But Loren never tried to stop me as I unzipped his fly.
Perhaps Shel caught me checking out Loren, or maybe he saw Loren looking me over. Or maybe Shel planned on me sucking off his friend before Loren ever showed up. Regardless, my shock delighted him, perhaps even more than watching his friend cum in my mouth.
Back in the alley, Shel watches as the three men surround me. Once the waiter unzips his black trousers and pulls out his cock—still soft but getting into the spirit of things—the Indian and the blond guy relax.
I move my mouth from the Indian’s cock to the blond’s, sucking fiercely first one and then the other before switching dicks, leaving them both hard and wanting while I shift my attention to the waiter, who is now hard. His cock is on the skinny side, but what it lacks in girth it makes up for in length. The tip of my tongue bores into the piss slit, and he trembles. I look up at the waiter, and our eyes meet before he looks away. My eyes roll back to his crotch, and my mouth travels down his shaft. I gnaw on the folds of his shaved nut sac, suck on his balls and then quickly return to the head of his cock. He shudders and his cries reverberate down the alley: “Oh, man! Goddamn, that’s—oh, yeah!”
I return to the Indian, who’s resumed the role of sexual aggressor. “Suck my cock,” he commands, cupping the back of my head and ramming his dick so deeply down my throat that I gag.
“Oh, shit, I’m gonna cum.”
It’s the blond, jacking off, losing control. A crack of thunder drowns out his cries as he coats the right side of my face with his load. I turn to him to receive another shot, this one in the center of my forehead. I guide his cock into my mouth for the final spurts, sucking even after he’s drained his balls, until he finds the sensation too intense and pushes me away.
The blond slinks into the shadows. The Indian and the waiter are now waving their cocks in my face, begging for my services. I wolf down the waiter’s, sucking him hungrily—desperately. My dick throbs painfully in my jeans; my precum has soaked through the thin denim. The quicker I give the waiter and the Indian their release, the quicker I get mine.
The Indian’s cock swats the waiter’s, and I make room for it in my mouth, sucking on both simultaneously. The two men say something, but my slurping drowns them out. Even the sound of thunder is faint.
A strangled exclamation—“Oh, god!”—cuts through the din. It’s the waiter. I spit out his cock, and my hand takes over for my mouth, pumping. In seconds hot jizz splashes the corner of my mouth. The waiter’s load isn’t as copious as the others; after two forceful spurts his cock is dribbling. I lick his dick’s dripping head, eliciting a loud grunt from the trembling young man.
The Indian butts in, roughly grabbing the top of my head and turning me toward his quivering dong. He yanks a handful of my hair and jerks my head back, making me wince in pain. I’m so turned on I’m squirming. The Indian jacks off furiously. I hear his rushed breath hissing between his clenched teeth.
“C’mon,” I whisper, “give it to me.”
He does. Aiming his cock at my mouth, he fires his load onto my lips, onto the tip of my nose. I open wide for more, catching his thick cream on my tongue.
Squeezing the last few drops of cum onto my lips, the Indian steps backward. His eyes are glassy, his expression dazed, like he’s just awakened and can’t figure out how he got here.
Shel steps into the Indian’s place. He’s grinning as he studies my jism-streaked face. His hard-on pushes at the front of his gray pants. I lick my lips, tasting the remnants of the strangers.
Shel likes to make me wait for it. He made me wait when he intruded on Aaron and me those many months ago, when he made it clear I was intruding on Aaron and him. And he kept me waiting. I continued seeing Aaron, meeting him at Shel’s high-rise apartment. Shel would be there, of course, sitting on the sidelines as I fucked Aaron. When Shel finally joined in he gave his attention—and his cock—to Aaron. Then I showed up one night and Aaron was out of the picture. Shel undressed, slowly, while I knelt at his feet, my cock hard and vibrating as I waited to satisfy this man I’d flippantly dismissed at our first meeting. Once naked, Shel still wouldn’t allow me to touch his magnificent cock. Not without making me beg first.
In the alley behind the restaurant Shel unzips his pants. He’s as horny as I am: his dick quivers, precum beads on the swollen cockhead. “How bad do you want it?”
“So bad my cock’s about to explode.”
“That’s all?”
“I’d suck a hundred dicks just to get to yours.”
Shel chuckles. “Only ninety-six to go.”
“I’d… I’d drink their piss if you’d let me eat your cum.”
His cock jumps. Shel moves closer, until his hard-on is directly over my face. A sticky thread of precum touches down on the bridge of my nose, and then Shel’s dick presses against my cheek.
“You’re a mess,” he says, the head of his cock dabbing a gob of cum. Shel moves his dripping dong to my mouth, the creamy head nudging my trembling lips. “I should give you a shower.”
I moan at the prospect, closing my eyes and opening wide. “Yes, yes,” I whisper, anticipating his deluge.
But Shel pulls away.
“Stand up,” he orders. I do, and he marches me across the alley to a chain-link fence. Things take a violent turn when I’m pushed against it so hard it rattles all the way to either end of the alley. I cling to the fence, looking across the garbage-strewn vacant lot as Shel, behind me, caresses my butt. He finds that hole worn in the fabric, and his fingertips brush against the crack of my ass. My sphincter contracts; my cock throbs.
Suddenly, viciously, Shel rips open my jeans, exposing my ass to the night air. Moments later a spit-lubed finger works its way between my asscheeks and into my hole. I moan loudly as his finger burrows into my chute. When that finger finds my prostate I scream. “Fuck me,” I blubber.
Instead I get another finger, two digits inside my ass making me shiver. I don’t know if I can take much more….
Shel withdraws his fingers briefly, and when they return to my asshole they are covered with lube. Shel always carries condoms and a small tube of lubricant, ready to fuck me whenever and wherever.
Seconds later Shel’s cock replaces his fingers. No matter how many times I’m rammed by that monster, it’s always a shock when Shel plunges it in. I cry out as my asslips stretch around his huge cock and his rod fills my chute. By the time his dick is buried up to the hilt, when I feel his pubic hair brushing against the skin of my butt, I’m hanging off the fence like a limp dishrag, sobbing.
Lightning flashes, thunder cracks and finally the rain comes, falling in sporadic, heavy drops.
Obscenities fa
ll from Shel’s mouth as he fucks me in hard, sharp thrusts, pushing my face against the chain-link each time he sinks his cock into my ass. Still, I beg him to fuck me harder.
For an instant I wonder if the Indian is still hanging around, watching. Then I feel Shel’s weight against my back, feel his hot breath in my ear as he snarls something filthy, and no one else exists.
The ass-pounding slows as Shel reaches around my waist and fumbles with the top button of my jeans. I reach down to help him. Together we free my aching prick. When Shel touches my hard-on I almost shoot.
“Jack off into my hand,” Shel says, cupping it beneath my engorged cockhead.
I’m shooting my load in less than five strokes. I’m howling ecstatically while Shel coos in my ear, “That’s it, baby, give it to Daddy.”
And then “Daddy” gives it to me. My body is still wracked in orgasmic throes when Shel raises the handful of cum to my face and feeds it to me. “Every drop,” he hisses, and I lap up my own load.
The fucking resumes in earnest, Shel grunting with each deep thrust till, with a brutal roar, he announces he’s coming.
I’m suddenly aware that it’s raining harder, but I don’t care. Shel pulls out of my hole and spins me around. His eyes are shining with emotion, though I can’t tell if he’s crying, or if it’s just the rain streaming down his face. Shel seizes me in a hug so tight I think we might meld into a single being. Our cocks are crushed together between our bodies.
Shel kisses me: deep, passionate and hard. He pulls his lips away. His eyes bore into me.
“Say it,” he whispers.
“I… I love you,” I whimper.
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