Suburban Dad -- He asked me if I like cum

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It was Sunday night, close to 11:00 p.m. and I was hanging out at the local ABS.  I'm not usually there that late, but I had been out to dinner with friends earlier and we had been talking about the Winter Olympics and the glimpses we had spied on the televised coverage of some alluring packages squeezed into the tight lycra outfits of the guys competing in the luge event.  That conversation had reminded me of a hot Russian guy I played with years ago and, in turn, that memory made me hungry for cock and cum.  So, off to the ABS I went, hoping I could get my Olympic-sized craving satisfied.  Although Sunday nights can be good hunting there -- it seems that some guys haven't gotten laid over the weekend and they just want to get drained before the busy workweek starts -- my prior experience there had shown that traffic tends to die down by 8:00  p.m. on Sundays.

Anyway....I was biding time, leaning against a wall in the hallway, randomly surfing the net on my phone.  A few guys were milling about -- none were to my liking -- but I had earlier gotten a good taste of a biggish cock but the guy didn't want to cum yet, so my parched throat was still in need of a slick coating.  My ears pricked up to the jingle of the exterior door opening and listened patiently for the sound of footsteps coming toward the area where I was laying in wait.  I glanced up to see a handsome sliver-haired gent walking past me and I knew I wanted his load. He was a fit, handsome, suburban Dad looking guy, jeans, glasses, windbreaker, probably early-to-mid-fifties .  He looked like one of those middle-aged White studs who has always had a regular exercise routine so he's in good shape and his prematurely graying hair adds a certain distinguished vibe to his overall sexiness.  About six feet past me, he approached the door of one of the vacant booths that shares a glory hole with an adjoining booth and he lingered for a second and turned to look at me.  I made eye contact with him, recognized him as a guy I had enjoyed sucking off once before, gave a slight nod and entered the door of the booth adjoining his.  

Off came my baseball cap and glasses, out came my little brown bottle and down on my knees in front of the GH I went.  "Yeah, Daddy," I thought to myself, thinking how much I appreciate when the universe puts me in the right place at the right time to be of service to a the cock of a handsome man.  Through the glory hole (which I discovered had been enlarged by somebody since I was last there), I saw Dad struggling to get the video machine to accept his dollar bills.  He muttered "Sorry" to apologize for the delay.  Being the helpful cocksucker I am, I dug a handful of quarters out of my pocket, reached through the gloryhole and offered them to him.  As he dropped the quarters into the slot, I smiled to myself thinking "Did I just pay for sex?  $1.50 for Daddy cock and cum!  The best deal in town!"

When he undid the fly of his Dad jeans and pulled down his boxers and lifted the hem of his t-shirt, I was reminded of the beauty of his cock.  It was a beautiful in it's ordinariness -- average in length and girth, minimal manscaping (salt and pepper pubes trimmed slightly, balls still hairy -- just the way I like 'em), he was probably three-quarters hard as he stepped toward the glory hole and presented his cock to me.  The prrevious time I sucked him off, I remember that he lasted a decent amount of time before I earned my creamy reward.   I think his balls were aching for release on Sunday night because a moan of appreciation escaped his lips when my nose first hit his pubes and the swollen head of his now fully-engorged cock pressed against my uvula.  Within a couple of minutes, he stepped back from the hole, pulling his cock with him, and did a quarter-turn of his hips, giving me a side view of his spit-slicked and glistening cock.  He flexed his groin muscles to make his rock-hard cock flex and dance and I realized that he was gettin close and pulled out in order to delay his orgasm for a second.  As my eyes were fixated on his cock, I heard his voice from above (almost like it was God asking me), "Do you like cum?" 

"Hell yeah!" I whispered hoarsely, "Feed it to me".  He turned to face the hole straight on, stepped forward and did as I directed.  With three more quick bobs of my head, I heard his combined grunt and happy sigh and could taste his load flood onto the back of my tongue.  It was an average-size load, one strong gush of warm viscous liquid, very little in the way of a "cummy taste", but I was quite happy with it and swallowed it appreciatively.  I felt like I was handsomely rewarded for very little effort on my part.  (You cocksuckers know what I'm saying -- sometimes you put in a lot of work to get that load, other times it seems like "WOW!  I was just getting warmed up and this guy's already cumming!")

I really would have liked to have kept his cock in my mouth for a couple of minutes more, but he backed it out from my lips pretty quickly after he came.  I realize that, for some guys, their head gets really sensitive after they cum -- and I'm one of them -- but if they would trust me, I'd teach them (if they haven't yet learned it) that gentle attention to that senstive post-orgasm cockhead is the dessert course of the orgasm for us both.  Anyway, I reached through the hole, hoping to guide his cock back toward my mouth because (a) I'm happiest when there's a cock in my mouth and I wanted to continue this brief visit to "my happy place" and (b) I was pretty sure there might be a last little glob of cum in his piss slit and -- call me greedy! -- but I wanted it.  Dad didn't understand what I was after and tried to hand me one of the paper towels he had pulled from his pocket (to wipe the last traces of my cocksucker spit from his genitals before he pulled his boxers back up, I guess).  "No, thanks", I said, declinig the paper towel.  "I just want to lick your cock clean,"  I explained.  His response was, "Oh...!  Uh....nah.  No, I'm, uh, good."  I thanked him (and I truly was thankful) and  got to my feet and exited the booth.  

I made a point of not engaging him in eye contact when he slipped out of his booth a minute or so later and headed toward the exit.  I pretended to be engrossed in my phone's screen because I sensed he would be more comfortable that way -- a smile and a quick nod from me might be a tad too "intimate" for him.  When he was a step or so past me, however, I did look at him admiringly from behind and smiled to myself with satisfaction knowing that I had given that handsome stranger the pleasure and relief he needed and in return he fed me a nice dollop of his liquid essence and --  in that moment -- all was right in my little corner of the world.