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Louisville—October, 2012

Every year, my job takes me to Nashville for a few weeks. I left a day early, right at the end of the month. I really wanted to bed (well, perhaps I should say, sling) the man who was the first entry in this blog—so I made sure that I would overnight in Louisville. He proved to be unavailable, so after I got into my motel, I got online. There was next to no one cruising. I changed into old clothes and went to the great bookstore in the area—ready for anything—and got a little of almost everything a bookstore can offer…

It’s Friday. Both theatres are open. I get the combo pass—I can go back and forth between the gay and straight theatres. The door buzzes to admit me into the straight one. I hear a woman’s high pitched moan. The screen is ablaze with James Deen thrusting balls deep into a slim blonde, while he throws her around like the proverbial rag doll. There has been work done to this room since I was last here. Chairs look repaired and there is now a convenient shelf to sit along the back wall. There is one man in the back row of the seats. He is kneading his crotch through the fabric of his pants. Another man slouches against the side wall, staring at the screen. I sit on the new shelf, right in the center, so the man in the back row can turn and see me undo my jeans. I take out my growing cock. The man on the side wall takes off. The sight of my hardening cock emboldens the man. He looks to be slightly younger than I, trim, and with a large mound in his khakis. He unzips. Now his hand is on striped underwear.

The door buzzes. He covers himself. I get harder and stroke deliberately. The guy who walks in, I recognize from my last trip there: a hungry cock sucker I’d turned the tables on. He’s a little older than I, with a pronounced nose and olive colored skin. I notice he is graying around the temples. When he sees me he removes his jacket, sits down beside me and, pulls his track pants down. His curved cock is rampant. He also hoists his tee shirt up, hooking the bottom of it around the back of his head, revealing a mass of dark curly hair and stand up nipples.

And he’s down on my cock. Instantly to the root. An oral master. He moves off the bench and kneels in front of me. He wants a better angle. I let him suck for a bit, then stand up and fuck his face. This makes the man in the back row get up and move closer to us. He’s now stroking his cock through the fabric of his striped underwear. Eventually I pull my cocksucker up. I kneel and give him a little head in return. Before I can really get going, he bends over so I can’t keep on his cock. I know what he’s doing. He has the other guy’s cock deep in his mouth. I squirm out from between them. The man who was hiding his cock has a monster. The sucker is taking him as deep as he can work down on it. Finally he stops and says, “You try.”

I kneel again. I take the monster cock in my mouth. I think I get about half of it down my throat. I need air. I pull back up. The sucker bends over and takes it in his mouth. I go for the balls which are retracting on the monster. He grunts and shoots the first few jets of cum into the sucker’s mouth—then pulls away. “Don’t waste it,” I bark, but it’s too late, he empties the rest on the floor. The sucker turns my head to him and gives me a cummy kiss…

Monster cock pulls himself together and leaves. The sucker settles on the bench, playing with his nipples. He must need to leave, too—it’s his signal he wants to cum. I settle between his legs and take his slightly hooked cock easily down my throat. In no time at all he is blasting a load into my gullet. He kisses me and exits…..

All in the first 25 minutes…..

I go over to the gay side. There is a new build out there too. Behind the seats is a wall that is about chest high….perfect to stand at and stroke if you are shy---or to lean against for support during any action. It creates a dark space—so you can barely see the cock you are playing with…

I suck some cock.

Guys suck me.

An hour or so passes.

The door buzzes. I am sitting in the back row of the gay side. A pretty good, leatherish, All World’s Video is on the screen. In walks a young man. He is in grey sweats and a maroon hoodie. College age or just out. He looks at me in the back row. He looks at the man standing against the wall. Then at the 20-something jerker in the front row. He ambles down the four rows of seats—he’s headed to the young jerker. No, he passes him. He walks all the way around the 2 dozen or so seats, and makes his way to me in the back row from the other side. He sits right beside me. My cock is dripping pre cum just looking at him. He slides his sweats down, showing off a nicely curved 7 incher. His hands grope for my cock. “Jesus.” He starts stroking it—just as my hand finds his dick. He tugs at me—“Come back here.” We get up, barely pulling ourselves together to walk behind the partition. The man leaning against the wall looks at me with absolute hate in his eyes….and stomps out of the room.

The boy is leaning against the wall, his cock out, his hoodie unzipped. I run my hands over his chest and abs—he could be a gymnast. His cock is dripping now as much as mine. I go down on him. He sighs and relaxes against the wall. When I feel he’s close, he stops me and pulls me up. He kneels in the gloom and engulfs my cock. Or tries too. His technique is toothy. But I grin and bear it. When he stands up, I go back down on him, but almost instantly I turn him around. He has a great gym-worked ass. Hard and fuzzy. I pull the cheeks apart. He bends, supporting himself on the wall. My tongue finds his furry ass crack. He moans. We are joined by the jerker—jerking. I’m right there. My tongue enters his young pucker. Now he groans. He lets me eat him out for a long time.

I come up for air. “Fuck me,” he whispers. I am about to tell him I don’t have any Magnums on me, when he adds, “Raw.”

I just nod. And drop back to eat him a little more. I work a ton of spit into his hole. I grease my cock with just a small smear of lube. I am going to have to be careful that I don’t blow instantly—I’ve had a lot of play and a lot of time there.

I stand up. I slip into him. Like he was made for my cock. No stress at all—but tight and clingy.

He moans.

The jerker jerks.

I fuck. Slowly—more for myself than for him. But soon I am slamming into that hard bubble butt. I am getting close. Fast.

And he cums. It must shoot all over the new wall, but I can’t see it in the blackness. He pulls off me…and my own potential orgasm subsides to nothing. He lets me clean his cock a little. Then pulls himself together, thanks me and takes off.

If this was fantasy--- I would have bred him—or taken him home for an all night rut in my motel. But, no…but damn, he was hot….

Another hour or so passes. More head given and gotten.

I go back in the straight theatre. It’s late. I know I should leave. I stand just inside the door way. Two guys are sitting on the new back ledge. Both are stroking. Both near my age. The one closest to me has a mustache and is in dress clothes. The other, slightly more portly, has on jeans and a flannel shirt---straight from the semi I’m sure he’s parked in the overnight lot behind the theatre. Both have nice cocks. And wedding bands that glint in the light from the projected video. They don’t eye each other. They just stroke and make an occasional comment about the girl between the two men on the screen.

I watch them for a while. They seem oblivious to me. Finally I sit down between them. I pull out my cock. I stroke with them. Comments have stopped. Just the sound of our hands and lube on cocks.

Finally—“Help a guy out?” It’s the business type. He’s looking at me. He has stopped stroking to show off his cock. Wordlessly I slip down to the floor. I take him to the root. I begin to suck in earnest. He cums. Silently, but for a slight intake of breath—from all those years of making sure not to wake the kids when he shoots. I am aware of the trucker watching us as I clean his cock. I stay on the floor as the business men zips and leaves.

“Come here, man.” He says it low. Not a command, but asking for service. “Give me some of that hot mouth.” I expect him to want me to rinse my mouth out from my water bottle, but no. He just wants head. Now.

I have to work really hard to get him off. He occasionally touches my face—and seems thrown when he encounters a beard. But he shoots. And whimpers for a second. Then—“That was really nice. I’ll sleep well now…” He does up his jeans without cleaning his cock off. He ambles out into the hall.

I’m left alone on the floor, my cock rampant. I hear James Deen behind me, fucking loudly and about to shoot across the blondes face on screen.

I look down at my cock and let one large drop of saliva mixed with jizz fall on the shiny shaft.

I close my eyes.

I stroke…

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