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Two Rants Disguised as a Trip to the Bookstore


Near Home—August, 2023

My furry fuck bud (and fellow scent pig) Zane had invited me to Chicago for a massive house party.  I was excited and ready for one.  But it was at the end of the week.  By Tuesday, just thinking about going, was driving me up the wall.  I knew I needed to empty my balls.  I ate an early lunch and went to see what trouble I could find at the bookstore nearest me…

 

I start, as usual in the straight theatre.  There is a man a little older than me sitting about halfway down.  I sit even with him, along the other side wall. He is looking only at the screen.   Every time the door opens or a chair scrapes, the things that naturally make men turn to look, you can see him fight against it and concentrate harder on the sex happening on the big screen television.  He is masturbating.  His hand is inside his fly.  As I occasionally check him out, I see his dick head emerge from the top of his fist.  Even in this dim light, it looks angry and red.  And thick.

I try to get his attention, but he will not look in my direction or at my very exposed cock.  I stroke to the better than average porn.  Through the grate in the common wall, I hear the door to the gay cinema opening and closing.  A lot.  No one else is in here, so I button up and go over.

I can see why the crowd is here.  A man I have never seen before, around 50, white, and very good looking in that old Hollywood way is sitting along the side wall.  He is kneading a nice sized bulge in his pants.  I recognize the six other men in the room.  I may have actually had sex, one way or another, with all of them. 

I sit in the cocksucker’s chair, which is, surprisingly, open.  I nod to the man who I have fucked countless times.  He is sitting in the corner, stripped and jerking his soft cock to the porn and to the new guy.  A guy standing behind the new guy is a man who has sucked me on numerous occasions.  Oh, and the man seated next to the guy who I usually fuck has been on my dick a lot.   There is a younger guy in front of the new guy, who let’s me blow him when no one is looking.  All these men have their dicks out.  And not one of them is hard.  I am the only hard cock in the place.

And none of the cocksuckers seem to want to show off their skills in front of the new man.  I would think of it as an audition for him—to turn him on, to get the ball rolling.

No, they sit and they flog their soft cocks.

Eventually, out of boredom, the guy I usually fuck stands up and gives me his soft cock to suck.  I work tirelessly to get him to harden.  I grease up a finger and slide up his ass, hoping that will do the trick.  It doesn’t get him hard—but it gets him off.  He is as surprised as I am.

Ok, first off—with the now incredibly low price of generic erectile dysfunction drugs, I do not understand men not finding one that works for them.  If you are coming to the playroom to get fucked, I don’t care if you are hard or not.  But in a situation like the bookstore, when you are asking for head, you seem to want to be hard.  It must be important to you—so fix it.   I use a generic Viagra for group sex—and it costs me less than a dollar.   I am sure a number of the men there thought that ‘my dick will get hard this time’ and the disappointment must be far worse than taking the bull by the horns and finding one of the many options to help.  And if you aren’t taking it, because poppers are more important to you than your dick, that’s another whole problem…All right, I’m done.

Also surprisingly, the Man I Usually Fuck, went down on me after he shot.  He licked and sucked.  The man who often sucks me standing behind the new guy, offered me his limp cock to suck.  It never got hard either.  Nor did he shoot.  He actually looked embarrassed by it and left.

And the new guy never showed his cock to the disappointment of everyone. 

*

I go back to the straight side.  The guy is still there.  Jerking like crazy, just showing his cock head above his big hand.  I sit opposite him again and haul out my cock.  He never glances at me.  Not once.  No slight head turn for a quick look.  No nod meaning, ‘I’m interested.’  Nothing.

I debate what to do.  I’d be happy to suck this guy, but does he want it?  Everything says ‘no’ to me.

OK—and another thing.  If we are watching straight porn, I can’t be a mind reader.  In the gay theatre, I would have just asked this guy by now.  I don’t really do that over on the straight side.  I never want straight men to feel ‘hounded by the gays’ as I heard one guy express it, years ago.  There are plenty of straight men who do want a willing mouth, and they know how to communicate.  But you have to engage with me, one way or another.  That nod, a look, or heaven help us, say what you want…

I suddenly stand up.  I am going against my own better instincts.  “Do you want help with that?” 

He does not look at me.  He looks rigidly at the screen.  His hand quickens on his dick.  I step towards him, my hard cock swaying.  Something about his refusing to answer suggests he does want some help.

I go for it, wondering if I’ll be screamed at or punched.  I kneel in front of him.  Finally, he does something that says ‘yes’—he takes his hand off his big angry dick.  My mouth covers his cock head as he erupts into my mouth.  It’s a huge load. He leans back in his chair, looking like he’s had a heart attack.  I linger long enough to make sure he hasn’t and take off.

Never once did he actually look right at me.

 

The original post is here:  From My Side of the Sling: Two Rants Disguised as a Trip to the Bookstore (felchingpisser.blogspot.com)   September 2. 2023

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