My right hand found my boner as I glimpsed someone standing in the aisle to my right, watching me. I told myself, just continue, finish, and get out. I ignored the voyeur but was unable to ignore my throbbing cock. I moaned as my pre-cum coated my aching cockhead and knew I would come in seconds.
“Don’t you fucking cum on my clothes cocksucker!” commanded Malik. With a slap to my head, he continued, “Focus on your work. You can jack off when we leave, bitch!”
I did as commanded, and cradled his boner in both hands as I licked his length, resisting the urge to plunge him into my mouth each time his pre-cum touched my tongue. My zipper was rubbing my hard-on, and I wanted to take my pants off to let it out. But I needed to complete the task at hand first. I licked harder and faster, feeling his veins and swirling my tongue on the rim of his head with each pass.
“Damn, he’s good,” said a deep, gravelly voice from the aisle.
“Damn right,” said Malik, staring down at me. “Ken loves him some Black dick, don’t ya.”
I ignored the question, not sure what the answer really was. I was forced into it, but my cock pulsed with a throbbing, aching tingle that felt like I was on the verge of orgasm, without it even being touched. My mind created the fantasy of imagining my fiancé doing to me what I was, in fact, doing to a complete stranger. I was terrified and hard as a rock at the same time. My senses were on overload, and I needed a chance to think. But little did I know, my night was just beginning.
The stupid zipper was really biting in, but it did not deter my raging boner. Touching him continued to pass his hardness to me. I kept eye contact with him as I would have wanted Lexie to do.
“I’ll be outside,” said Markus, as I saw someone sitting in the row behind us also watching.
When my eyes glanced up at him, I saw another Black man that looked to be my age with his hands gripping the back of the seat I had been sitting in earlier. He smiled at me hungrily, and I glanced away quickly. As I did, I saw a wedding ring on his finger and a cell phone in his hand.
Somehow, the wedding ring made me think of Lexie, not as the fantasy Lexie delivering the hungry blowjob, but as my fiancé, who I was to marry once the business took off. I insisted on a proper wedding with all the trimmings.
I forced that thought out of my head, as it was too much to take. To complete my mission, I needed the thought of Perfect Blowjob Lexie to get me through.
It was her eyes looking hungrily at me as she serviced my cock, not me looking at a random dude that I was sucking off in a spunk pit with people watching. It was her getting aroused by the musky scent of man-cock, not me.
I swirled my tongue around the thick rim of his cockhead before pressing the head into her mouth for the first time. My eyes closed, as Malik moaned, loudly and deeply. I wiggled my tongue against the sensitive cleft of his cockhead, making him groan. A strange feeling of control crept in again as I realized how he responded to my actions. The salty, sweet pre-cum flooded my taste buds as saliva rushed into my mouth.
I bobbed slightly up and down, letting my tongue work as his groans intensified along with Dr. Everhard, who apparently was still pounding the hell out of Honey Dew’s candy striper ass. I could only imagine, as my back was to the screen, but it sounded like he was ready to blow on her round little ass.
I slowly worked him deeper into my mouth, teasing his head with my tongue on the upstroke. He was bottoming out in my throat on the downstroke. It reminded me of Lexie, who could barely get half of me into her mouth and no matter how hard she tried; deepthroating was not possible for her. I made her gag one intoxicated night when I tried to go balls deep. That thought pushed me to try, and I began to push deeper, varying the angle and bobbing faster and harder.
“He’s a hungry mothafucker, ain’t he?” said the man in the aisle.
“Oh fuck, go deep Ken, go deep,” groaned Malik.
I tried faster and slower, pushing as far as I could take him, until the gag reflex began to kick in.
“Oh fuck, Ken! You hungry for it.”
His growing excitement shot straight to my balls, building the aching need for a release. My cock pulsed with every heartbeat and felt like it weighed ten pounds, screaming for attention.
Saliva ran down his cock in waves, as I tried to take all of him. If I couldn’t take him all, then I needed to make it up with speed and power. I sucked hard, out to the tip, tongue contacting the sensitive cleft and plunged him in hard and fast. I imagined Lexie devouring my cock like Honey Dew to Dr. Hardcock.
I could sense him getting close and my cock begged for relief so bad. I pressed it against his leg, only to get a head slap.
“Faggot’s humping my leg!” he said, as he pulled his feet back under him.
Frustration hit me hard. I was so close to ending this and I had distracted him. I needed to get it done so I could make my escape, put this all behind me, and regroup in my hotel room.
I worked his cock harder and faster, head bouncing frantically, as Malik soon returned to his deep, rhythmic groans.
“Oh fuck, yes, take it bitch, fuuuck!” His hand rested on my head. “Don’t fuckin’ stop.”
His pre-cum flooded my tongue, and I braced for his jizz, readying myself to swallow as much as I could.
“Fuck, gonna come!” I could hear the watchers mumbling, as his cock sloshed in my mouth.
He gave a grunt and pulled out suddenly. I tried to plunge him back in, but he yanked my hair.
“Wear it bitch!” he grunted, as a rope of cum fired onto my face, from my nose to my hair, followed by several rapid blasts on my cheeks, forehead, lips and hair.
As the intensity subsided, he rubbed his pulsing cock against me, smearing his jizz over my whole face. Then he plunged it back into my mouth, and I caught myself moaning as his cum coated my tongue. He moaned softly; eyes closed, as I sucked him clean. It felt oddly fulfilling that I was bringing him so much pleasure. I watched his face as I slowly slid him in and out, sucking harder as I pulled out to the tip.
Then I think he remembered our audience and opened his eyes. When he saw me looking up at him, humming on his cock, he pulled it out and pushed me back. Then he reached awkwardly for his pants.
“Thanks, cocksucker,” he growled and stood up, buckling his pants.
“Can I borrow your cocksucker?” asked the voice in the aisle.
I glanced up, with a growing sense of doom, to see a tall, middle aged Black man grinning down at me. My eyes drifted toward his crotch to see a bulge in his blue custodian-looking pants.
“Yeah, I think he’s still hungry, ain’t ya Ken? Take care of my cuz.”
“And me too?” asked the married guy.
“Looks like ya got mo’ work Ken. Take care of my cuzzes, cocksucker,” said Malik, as he walked out.
The buzz of the pot and tequila still had me firmly in their grip. It was like a bad dream that I would hopefully wake up from soon. But as I saw the married guy still gripping the seat, ogling me like a porn house perv, it was apparent there was more to be done before I could make my escape.