Improbable Pozzing in Phoenix Tea Room

[Hotload84]

I suppose that if it had not been such a hot afternoon (summer in Phoenix can be such a bitch), and had I not had my appointments canceled the last minute, I might have never gotten bored that afternoon.

And if I had not gotten bored, I would never have been POZZED, at least not that day. But as fate would have it, it happened.

How do I know?

Since our company had just been bought out, I’d been working 10-12 hours, 6 or 7 days, for the past three months. In other words, no sex. And continued to do so for another two months.

So I knew when it happened, right to the day, the hour almost. I bet none of you ever heard of a guy getting POZZED through a Tag-Team Event, but it happened.

I was a stranger in town, and had nothing better to do. I figured a movie was better than going back to my hotel room. I was attending a sales convention, and there was no escaping the group.

I picked a theatre that was showing an old Joan Crawford flic that I’d missed the first ten times around. It was on a side street and off the beaten track. I wanted to be sure none of my coworkers would wander in, and we’d be stuck with each other the rest of the afternoon.

I went in about ten minutes early. I had enough time for a cig, so I headed for the john. I’m not above cruising, but I had always heard that Phoenix is a pretty dead place, and what I’d seen the previous four days had convinced me. Just as I suspected, the john was dirty and DESERTED.

There were three urinals and two stalls. I saw peep holes in the stall doors, but no eyes peered back at me. The acrid piss and cum smell and the scribbled porn on the walls gave me a hardon. I hadn’t had sex for 3 months.

I pushed a stall door open and walked in. In place of a glory hole was a rectangular opening bigger than the proverbial breadbox—possibly an ill-conceived remodeling project put on hold. Intrigued, I sat down to see what would happen.

A scrawny Kid, of 18 wandered in. He kept his pants drawn over his knees so that I couldn't see much as he played with himself. Out of the corner of his eye I knew he was watching, so I gave my dick a few healthy whacks that brought ooze to my piss-slit. That was all the Kid needed. He motioned me to stick my dick through. I didn't waste time in complying.

His tongue darted over my cock, coating it with enough spit and slime to lube the tightest of asses. He was driving me mad, as he could tell from the way my dick spasmed. He tongued me down to the balls and mouthed each of them, while sliding his hand along my slick pole. I was afire with his hot tongue and his hand jerking my tool. Afraid that I’d pop in midair, I drew back through the hole to calm down.

I sat there for some minutes till the Kid stood and gave me my first view of his pole. It was a tad longer than mine and straight as an arrow with a heart-shaped head. It looked juicy and thick, and I wanted to suck him. But he seemed reluctant, and when I stuck mine back through, he whispered, "Turn ‘round."

I’ve been fucked many times, but never in a tea room, and was willing to give it a try. I expected to feel this hard shaft force its way in me. Instead his warm tongue dove into my crack. His hands spread my cheeks as he sought out ground zero. I gave him wide birth and pressed my ass to the rectangle as I wiggled my hips and fucked air.

Was it “good”? You don't know “good” till you’ve had it. He kept up his licking and tonguing till I was ready for anything. He lubed his fingers with Vaseline and stuck ‘em in me.

I felt the head of his tool probe my hole as he began the drive home. He plowed me gently at first, an inch at a time, till his meat thrust within me. I figured I’d taken it all, but with each stroke he pressed ever deeper. I gave a quiet sigh when he was all the way in. But I sighed too quickly, for then the real pounding began.

I had to straight-arm the opposite wall to avoid being thrown off balance. He slammed into me like there was no tomorrow. I cried out in agony, but the Kid gave me no respite.

Man, he knew how to fuck! He'd pull it all the way out until my ass would snap shut on the head, and then he'd drive into me with every ounce of strength he had left. I began to cooperate (even if it didn’t always feel so good hurt when he hit bottom).

Faster and faster he pumped, and I could tell from the passion with which his balls slapped my ass, he was ready to shoot. His POZ JIZZ scorched me like fire, and I jumped at heat and intensity of his discharge.

He kept his shaft in me till it softened, and the Bastard started to piss. I tried to pull off (I don't go for that shit!), but he had me by the hips and I had no place to go. When he pulled out, piss and cum exploded all over the place as vainly I tried to get back on the pot.

I was relieved to see that there was no blood, least none that I perceived, so I guessed the fucking hadn't been too severe. But the way my insides burned, I knew my ass had been severely abraded.

He handed me a note: "Got a buddy outside who loves to fuck. He’s got one much bigger than mine. Wanna meat him?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

"What's wrong?"

"I wanna cum, too," I whined petulantly.

"My buddy’ll do ya. He's the best!"

Lured by the stunning endorsement, I couldn’t resist. The kid dressed and left.

*********************************** R-O-U-N-D T-W-O *************************************

I was a little surprised when his friend turned out to be a tall, rangy Black. He dropped his pants and sat down.

"My name's Pat. The Kid says you need it.”

As I debated whether to stay, the dude plopped his dick through the hole. I can honestly say that I have never seen bigger. It was a good 6 inches dead soft. There is a little of the Size Queen in each of us; and as a matter of principle, I had to have this one.

"Suck it, Baby!” he whispered, as I wrapped my mitt around it.

"Eat that big Motherfucker!" The combination of his melodious voice and the pulsing of his hips aroused me.

I shoved my ass up against that big black tool and braced myself for him to shove it in. But like his buddy, he rimmed me. His tongue had to have been nearly as long as his cock, for once he got started, it felt like I had several inches of tongue in me. And after the piss bath the Kid had given me, I was totally clean.

"Fuck my ass!"

I looked over my shoulder and saw him rubbing oil on his cock.

God! How it glistened! How long and black!

He reached through the glory rectangle, grabbed me by the waist, and rammed it in me. The pain was excruciating. I struggled to pull off, and it was all I could do to not scream. My intestines burned like hellfire, but there was no deterring him.

He screwed me like someone possessed. My asshole ached from being snapped open and shut so many times as he plowed in and out. Each time he thrust deeper, pain seared through my gut. I still didn’t feel his balls against me, so he wasn’t in all the way.

From his panting I knew he was close. He lunged at me savagely. Something inside me went snap, and the pain grew acute. At last his black balls came to rest on my ass, and I’d taken that huge piece of meat to the hilt.

My life boiled down to that single moment of passion, and I cared only for his pending climax. He plowed in a frenzy and drove deeper and harder. His throbbing manshaft rearranged my intestines, and cared not a whit for any negative consequences, and didn’t even consider the POZITIVE one.

With one pivotal movement he pulled out and plunged in all the way up to his balls. POZ JIZZ flooded my innards. I closed my eyes and pictured that huge purple snake spitting its poisonous venom into my guts. I grabbed my meat and beat it like hell as I shot the last NEG wad of my life on the opposite wall. I heard the pop of retreating flesh disengaging as he gingerly inched out, and I slumped down on the toilet to recover.

I had a little trouble with my ass after that, but my Doc, in whom I confide, reassured me I just needed rest. By the time I went in for a follow-up visit, things at work had calmed down, and I was back to my normal hours and sex life. It was then that Doc suggested an HIV test.

I was on the road back in Phoenix, when my cell rang and I got the POZ news. After a couple hours of meditation at the bar, I walked over to the little theater. The glory rectangle was still there; and when I spotted the dried blood on the wall, I knew that the Black Dude and the Kid had been at it again. Oh, yeah, I couldn’t waste the trip. I finally saw the Joan Crawford movie, and plowed a fatherly gentleman and a long-haired punk—BAREBACK, of course.