Lansing—February, 2020

Zane, the scent pig, had invited me back for a big sex party in Chicago at the end of the month.  By the middle of that last week of the month I became so horned I knew I had to blow a load before that event.  I had just been to my usual bookstore with Braydon, so I headed a little farther away to the half bathhouse/half bookstore.  I was there for just under five hours.

I arrive right after lunch.  The parking lot is nicely full.  I am buzzed into the dark playland of slings, fuck tables and glory holed booths.  I piss and lock my coat in a locker.  I glance into the big screen gay area.  It is empty save for one man jerking to grainy condomed porn.  I continue to explore.  The three screened straight area has at least half a dozen men, cocks out and stroking to the different films.  I see the upper half of tall black man behind a high backed couch.  He is holding someone’s leg.  I can only guess he is plowing a hole.  I make eye contact with him, smile and continue on my way.

The GH booths, which now have doors instead of curtains, are packed.  All are shut up and you can hear sex happening behind them.  I go into the farthest and smallest room, where I always jerk to the bi-sexual porn to wake my cock up.  I sit—and see the newest room, a darkish room with booths that are wide open.  I let my cock stand up with the porn—and then go into the dark room.  There is tall business type in a suit leaning against the wall with the ubiquitous cell phone.  He taps it off as I lean against the wall opposite him.  My cock is tucked behind the pouch of my jock, but dangling out the side.  The man can’t take his eyes off it. 

I look at him and cup my balls.

His hand dances over the mound beneath his suit pants.

I take out my cock.  I look right at him and slowly run my fist from wet head down the sticky shaft to my swollen balls.

He unzips.  It takes some work to get it out from tight underwear, but he bares a regulation six-incher with a lot of foreskin.

I stroke.

He works the skin off his cock head.

Neither of us will make the first move.

We stroke.  And stare.

Fuck it.  I step towards him. 

That’s all it takes—he comes right to me.  He bends and takes me in his mouth.  It’s a horrible angle—but I let him suck me.  He’s not going to kneel on this floor in that well tailored suit.

He pulls off me.  “Shit…”

I know he’s going to blow a load.  I sink to my knees and manage to get it all in my mouth.  I have to swallow fast.  He cums with the foreskin tight around his cock head.  My tongue pokes in and he winces, retreating to the other side of the room to mop up.  I thank him for the load.  He grunts some appreciative noises.

I go back and sit in the bisexual area.  I stroke.  Balancing my water bottle on the padded fuck table to my right.

The tall Black guy I saw when I came in enters.  He sits on the other side of the fuck table.  Then stands to open his pants.  He’s a good looking guy—anywhere between 30 and 45--tall and lean.  A very long, slender cock plops out of boxer briefs.  He sits and we stroke.

He breaks the silence… “Do you like your feet licked?”

“Sometimes.”

“That’s what gets me going.”  He pauses.  “And you have big feet.”

It suddenly twigs—when I walked in he wasn’t holding that leg up for a fuck but to lick.

“I do,” I say, agreeing with him.

“Take those boots off and let me suck your toes.   You can suck my dick while I do it.”

I think for a second.  Why not?  I take off my boots and the sock of my right foot as instructed.  The pants have to come off, too.  I slip the left boot back on and lie down on the table.  He stands by the side and hoists my naked leg in the air.  His wide mouth engulfs all my toes and over the ball of my foot.  His tongue is velvety and loving.  My cock drools at this different kind of body stimulation.  I turn my head slightly towards him—and there is his hard cock—right in my face.  I have to move only a fraction of an inch to suck him as he goes to town on my foot.  His cock is long—but not too thick—which is perfect, for soon he is fucking my face.  And I can take him all the way down.

With my foot, he is now servicing each toe individually—sucking them like they were precious little cocks.  It never tickles.  He knows the pressure to apply to make it incredibly sensual.  Now as much of my foot is in his mouth as he can take.  Only then does his hand run down my bare ass crack.  But it’s an accident.  A mere brush with his fingers.  He has no interest in my ass at all.

He pulls my foot out of his mouth.  He is panting.  And the speed of his mouth fucking is picking up.  I pull off his dick and go for his sweaty balls.  I can’t believe how fragrant they are from his sexual exertions. 

“Yessss…” he hisses and dives back onto my foot.  He is all but gagging on it now.  I find his cock head and get it to my mouth just in time.

He explodes. 

A big creamy load.  He keeps all five toes in his mouth until his cock starts to wilt between my lips.  I lick him clean and he gently, almost reverently, lays my leg back down on the padded table.

“Thank you, thank you!” he enthuses as he does up his fly.  “Give me half an hour and I’ll do your other foot.”

Off he goes, leaving me lying half naked on the fuck table, my cock dripping, my foot sopping wet and a dollop of his cum in my beard.

End of the first hour.  Lots more to cum…