Jackson—August, 2023

After the very mixed bag of sex that I wrote about in the last post, I was still wanting to get off before the big house party.  The very next day, I went to the bookstore with the remodel—hoping to find the release I needed…

I arrive right around 11:30 am.  I like the lunch crowd here (and I’ve packed mine into the cooler for later.)  The parking lot has a few scattered cars in it.  Two of them have men sitting in them—waiting to see who goes in.  I walk past them, pay my admission for the lounge and head in.  It feels darker today after the bright, hot sunshine outside.  I do a quick look around.  One man is watching trans porn and another seems to be changing his clothes in the gay area.  I sit down on the big couch where I can see several different screens—each showing a different genre of porn.  I unbutton and stroke myself hard.  It’s easy to do with the anal sex happening on the mammoth television screen affixed to the wall in front of me.

I feel movement to my side and turn.  The cubby young man has changed from his shorts and tee into a long, flowing, flowered caftan.   He tells me it makes him feel sexy, as he kneels in front of me.  I love his beard on my balls and his mouth is hot and wet.  He gets me dripping, but I don’t think he is thinking I’ll shoot.  We are both just enjoying the moment.  He stops when his knees get tired—and other men start arriving.  Many of the newbies look at my cock, but there are no more takers.

I roam and settle in the gay room.   One of the new arrivals takes advantage of the more private setting and kneels.  He is around my age and I expect good things from his years of experience.  Not so much, as it turns out.  No teeth, well, almost none, and just rather dull—very little passion as he goes through the motion.  He can’t stay on his knees for long, so I am happy to help him up.

I move around again.  Lots of men.  I see men going into booths with glory holes and there are actually men on the back ramp for them to suck.  There is one of the three holes open, so I stand between two men who are also being serviced.  The guy doing me is good with his tongue—but he won’t even try to take more than the head into his mouth.  His hand is wrapped around my shaft so I stand and let him work my piss slit and cock head.

He grows tired quickly.  I guess I should have instantly shot my load.  I pull out the moment his hand releases me.

I wander.  I head into the trans area.  A guy around my age is getting head from the talkative Black man who is here every time I visit.  I start to back out to give them some privacy, but instead the man getting sucked loudly gives up his load.  I watch as he lets his cocksucker lick him clean of semen.  He smiles at me and says “Next!” as he leaves.

I unbutton and sit down.  The talkative man crawls over to my cock.  He starts a conversation—but barely gets out two sentences before he starts to devour my dick.  He’s great.  He has done me here many times in the past.  Great suction, easy deep throat, no teeth…everything about a blow job I love.  He only takes a break on my shaft to start nuzzling my balls with his very thick and wet tongue.  He groans at the taste of the morning’s sweat on them.  He licks and moans and does each of them individually, never trying to crowd both of the bloated sacks into his mouth at once.

He pulls off me, and rests on his haunches.  “That is one mighty fine cock.”  He sighs and takes me down again.  To the root.  Repeatedly.  He knows me well enough to know that I’m not likely to shoot.  And indeed—his legs tire before I do.  I help him up.  He promises to come find me when I’m ready.  And I want just that…

*

I wander.  In the straight corner, both chairs are occupied by daddy types.  One is my age, tall and spare with a highly trimmed goatee.  The other, slightly younger, is a barrel chested man.  And both are stroking very respectably sized cocks. 

The goateed daddy recognizes me from somewhere.  “You suck, right?” he asks, point blank, with no games.

I nod.  I go to my knees and take his dick in my mouth.

“Damn, you’re good,” he breathes. 

I work for maybe three minutes before he gives me his load—sweet and creamy.  He is too sensitive to let me clean him up and he ruins a pair of Calvin Klein white briefs as he stuffs his still oozing cock into them.  I stand up.

“You aren’t going anywhere, are you?” says the barrel-chested guy who has watched and stroked to the whole thing.  I kneel again.  He is thicker and not as long.  And he’s close.  He liked what he saw—and likes what he’s feeling now even more.  I get another load in under two minutes.   He lets me get every drop…

*

A lull.

I eat out in the car, happy for a break.

I go back in.  The crowd has thinned.  I look for the great cocksucker, but he, surprisingly, is not there.  I sit and stroke.  I don’t want to just shoot on the floor, but I would like the balls empty to start making fresh jizz for the weekend.

“May I help you with that?”

He’s a good ten years older than me, likely in his high 70’s.  Smoking has not been kind to his creased face—but the great bone structure is still there.  He also carries himself, still, with that ‘I have a big cock’ aura.  And he does.  It is sticking out of his pants.  He would have been that unattainable stud at the disco when I came out. 

He uses my knees as support to get down to the floor.  His mouth is great.  Not as roomy as the talkative guy, but damn good and just what I need.  He is good about working the head, shaft and balls in rotation.  I am sure that I have found my guy.

But he can’t stay down on his knees.  I help him up—and sit back down.  I bend to take his cock.

“You don’t have to suck this old thing…”

“But I’d like to…”

I swallow him down, the biggest dick of the day.  His incredibly soft hands grab my ears.  He begins pumping into me. 

“It’s been so long…” he groans.

He’s there—I can feel it.  And he pulls out of my mouth and shoots on the floor…

*

I look around, but I can’t imagine finding what I need with the men who are left. I go home, and just save those full balls for Zane when I get to the house party…

The original is here:  From My Side of the Sling: Still Looking (felchingpisser.blogspot.com)    September 5, 2023