A gay story: Cock-Sucker: One-Night Stand
I had already had the experience of exploring my sexuality through sexual encounters with men, but this particular experience had an interesting story behind it. I was traveling and had some challenges along the way, including not having a place to stay and not eating well. In Denver, I was planning to head towards LA, also a porn capital of sorts.
Anyway, I was living with a girl at the time, and while I was engaging in some gay porn online, she walked in on me and became infuriated, calling me names and saying offensive things to me. She even implied that I was more interested in men than in her, saying things like, “you’d rather suck a cock than lick my pussy.” I must say, she sure knew how to make a guy feel good.
I guess I could have taken it a couple of ways, but I thought, why not? I am 20, and gay men are into me because of my slender build, young looks, and barely-legal bratty attitude. The punk rock curls and the lack of body hair except for my pubes area seemed to add to the attraction, so I went for it and decided to explore this side of my sexuality more openly.
This pleasant middle-aged guy in a Japanese car picks me up. He asks me how I’m doing, and I guess by the tone of my reply he more or less judges me right. As he’s driving he keeps eyeing me up in a curious way, and at length he coughs as though he’s building up to something.
He says “Look kid, I don’t want to offend you none, but it seems to me that you’ve got a bad need. Well, it so happens I have needs too which aren’t being satisfied. Perhaps we can come to some mutually beneficial arrangement. Feel free to decline, and I’ll respect that. We’ll be pulling into a hotel stop-over. You come in with me, I’ll get you a meal. We stay overnight. Only thing is, you suck my cock.”
There was a long reflective silence. I could do with a meal. The hotel comfort sounds inviting. I can’t bear sleeping outdoors one more night. So what the hell, I agree. He’s as good as his word. It’s an anonymous Holiday Inn sort of place that could be anywhere. An identikit hotel. Same corridor floor-plan, same carpets and lighting. Same complimentary cosmetic brands in the same bathrooms. Same population of bored transients, lonely and far from home. Their paths criss-crossing and intersecting across the continent. We eat.
And the sex? Well, I can deal with it. I’ll never make Santa’s ‘nice’ list, I’ve always had a nasty side. Just think of it as a trial Porn-run. If I’m ever gonna make that LA poolside Porn-land I must be up for anything and everything, everything that is, except being pissed on, and maybe that would depend on who it is doing the pissing. Although that’s not a true professional attitude, I know. For a Porn pro they say ‘you’re gonna get pissed on’ and you say ‘where do you want me?’ Well — maybe baby.
We go up to his room. It seems strange walking down that long corridor beside this guy I hardly know in full awareness that he’s soon gonna have his cock in my mouth. Odd and unreal. But he also seems a little nervous and agitated, more so than I am, in an amusing way. So I undress, giving him every opportunity to see me naked, and take a shower, cleaning and sluicing my ass, just in case — I know what guys are like when they get horny. When I come out the shower toweling myself off he’s dimmed the lights to a soft twilight and he’s lying on his back on the bed, wearing a dressing gown. Comically, as though he imagines that makes him look like some sophisticated Noel Coward figure. He’s brought a bottle of cheap wine, and pours us both a glass. I ditch the towel, and he watches me as I reach out to accept the drink, then throws me a pair of girl’s panties.
“Put these on.”
I pose for him, acting it out, my genitals bobbing as I bend down to lift first one leg then the other, slowly pulling the flimsy thing up. They are tight, semi-transparent and edged in pink lace. My cock and balls soon clearly visible crushed up inside their tight restriction. I smile at him and let him look. He licks his lower lip in an agitated way, then fumblingly loosens the dressing gown chord, and pulls it aside. A point of no return. If it’s now or never, it’d better be now. He has a nice firm circumcised cock. I smile at him reassuringly, sit beside him, take it in my hand and begin to wank it gently up and down its full length. It feels nice in my hand.
“Good girl” he says encouragingly.
So I dip my head, lick its soft crown, kiss it in a lingering-moist way, slip the knob between my lips and begin sucking it. He rests his hands gently on the back of my head, then a little more firmly as he starts flexing his hips in that involuntary way that guys do when they’re getting cock-sucked. I let my lips follow the silky smooth surface of his shaft as I ease more of it into my mouth. His erection is rock hard, yet velvety smooth against my lips. How can something be so hard and yet so incredibly soft at the same time?
I brush a cascade of blonde hair aside so he can see what I’m doing to him. So he can see just how much of his cock is slithering between my lips and into my mouth. The visual side of a blow-job is important. Seeing me feeding that rigid monster smoothly into me until it’s nudging up against the back of my throat. My tongue slithers intimately around the smooth surface of his bloated cock-head. I’m getting into it, it doesn’t matter that he’s a stranger whose using me, it doesn’t even matter who he is, it’s just raw dirty-sex, and that always gets me fired up.
It doesn’t take too much time or effort until he warns me. “Watch out, I’m close”.
I suck harder, he grunts and moans low in his throat, I can feel it pulsing up against my palette, and there’s a burst of nourishing cum in my mouth. Not a lot of it, admittedly, less than I was bracing myself for. I swallow it, allow a little more courtesy suck-time, then lift my head, using the towel to wipe it clean.
“Thanks boy, you did that nicely” he says in a low husky voice.
“No problem, I enjoyed it” I tell him, not exactly untruthfully.
Again there’s a long, embarrassed pause. I take the opportunity of sipping his wine, then gulp it down and pour myself another.
Then he says “Look boy, I know you’re down on your luck. So I’m going to make another proposition, feel free to refuse if you like. I’m going down to the Bar. You stay here. I’ve got my phone, I’ve got contacts. With your agreement, I’ll send up a couple of other guys. Acquaintances of mine. You do for them what you did for me. They pay me, and we split the proceeds. We all benefit. No-one’s the loser.”
At first I was a little taken aback. But I need the cash. It’s a tempting offer. I’ve sucked him off, and it wasn’t too bad. So why not? So I agree. He dresses and leaves the room. I lie on my back on the bed, naked but for the tight panties, watching a bit of TV. These are crazy days, what the hell am I letting myself in for? But I can taste the traces of his spunk on my tongue, despite the wine mouthwash. It doesn’t taste too bad. Eventually there’s a timid knock on the door. A guy, traveling salesman or whatever, comes in.