Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Storage Closet

His screen name was ‘Need Serviced’ and he was all of 283 feet away. I mean, what could be more convenient – and straightforward – as that?

Of course, that distance is as the crow flies. If I were in a 28 story tower, he could have been 28 stories below me. But I was on the 6th floor, so it took some back and forth to figure out where he was, as he wasn’t sure how to describe it all.


As it turns out, he was in a sub-basement of an attached building. He was a vendor for the company and had access to a locked area. He was normally here a few days per week, but I had never seen him. But it’s a big place. I mean, we have sub-basements. Plural.

Married, on the DL, 42, 5’10” 170, average body, shaved head. Well….bald. I’m not sure he can grow hair. I am not 100% sure, but at some point in life he might have survived a fire. I think that was scar tissue over his face and head. I’m not sure he’d have been very attractive without that possible accident, but if I’m honest, it was uncomfortable to look directly at him for a lengthy period of time. The good thing was, I’d be on my knees and not looking at that bald head, but his other bald head.

The cock is about 7”. Thicker, but not really thick. A really nice head on it.


After some back and forth, he told me the place he was working was secure and the door locked. I headed his way immediately. I knocked once, the door open and he let me in. Why wouldn’t he? He ‘need serviced’ and who better than to assist?

As soon as the door was shut, he pleaded that he was nervous. His cock betrayed him. It was tenting out his khakis. I barely rubbed it twice and he pushed my hand away to pull down the zipper. #He wasn’t THAT nervous.

Though I had navy suit pants on, I didn’t hesitate to go to my knees. I didn’t even check the condition of the cement floor. I didn’t care.

He pulled his cock out of the unzipped pants, but not his balls. That’s ok. I was happy he wasn’t one of these unfasten my pants and have them fall to the floor kind of guys. I always love a guy who just hauls it out of the open fly. And really, I’m not sure we were in a position to drop his drawers. It’s not like I ever unzipped or pulled my cock out. That’s not what we were here for.

I immediately took him into my mouth and immediately one of his hands went to my head. He was a natural at doing this. DL, Married, or not. This wasn’t his first time. Possibly not even the first time in this locked.

He had good verbal skills too. While he kept his voice low and soft, that actually worked to my advantage too. Not just about not getting caught, but there is a certain depravity / sexiness to a man who talks like that during sex.

Yeah – treat my cock good” was one of those things. “Your mouth feels great on my cock” was another. It didn’t’ slip past me that he never said ‘dick’. It was always ‘cock’. There is a certain sleaziness about that word instead of ‘dick’ – at least I think so.

His cock was super hard. It would flex against my tongue. I would use that tongue with each insert and exit. Lips, mouth and especially tongue. His shaft responded to that.

A second hand went to my head. The grip from both became tighter. His insistence greater. His thrusts harder. His legs got shakier. But he wasn’t quite ready. He sped up. But he still wasn’t ready. The breathing got heavier and I thought he was there, but not just yet he wasn’t. He was speaking, but not really saying words…nothing fully formed anyways.

The legs got a bit shakier and then I felt warmth. And heard a heavy sigh. It was relief on all ends for him. Somewhere in that release was a mention of 4-5 days. The warmth kept coming…and cumming. I let it gather in my mouth, on my tongue before letting it slide down my throat into my stomach. I wanted to feel it, smell it, taste it.

And then I ate it. Every drop.

He wasn’t sensitive, so he didn’t pull away. He let me milk it a little.

When I did pull away, he was quick to tuck himself together. I noticed stains on the cement. They weren’t his cum, but part of my saliva that dripped from my mouth as he used it over and over and over again.

I thanked him and left the locked room. I wasn’t too far out of it when he left too. There was a message later that he’d be back on Wednesday. I’m not sure if that was an invitation or not, but we’ll see. He also said, “that was fucking hot!”

And it was. And maybe it will be again.

Tuesday, March 15, 2016

Volunteer

I know it is probably wrong for me to hook up with an impressionable 22 year old. I definitely know it is wrong for me to hook up with someone who is a volunteer where I work, even if he does not volunteer in my area.

But you know, there he is – 22 years old, strapping, big dicked and all of 425 feet from me. At least according to Scruff.

And for the record, it’s not like I reached out to him, he contacted me. And I get that for a 22 year old to do that, there are most likely daddy-issues involved. But I’m a man and susceptible to hard-ons just because the wind blows, let alone the attention of a college-aged lad.

The first time – oh yes, there has been more than once – he only wanted to suck me. Not my ideal, but I had to gain his trust. So down to his knees he went – in my office, after hours. Well mostly after hours. Some folks were still around, but they were sparse. We had to be quiet and I told him so. I knew I could keep my mouth shut, and though his would be full, I didn’t know his moaning situation.

The kid might have been 22 (I say ’22’ a lot here, don’t I?) but he was no novice. No sir. He had some very experienced lips and throat. In the back of my mind, I thought maybe his daddy-issues stemmed from daddy himself. Or maybe that was my hope. And by ‘maybe’ I mean ‘definitely’….my hope, that is, not necessarily the reality. While he was working on my rod, he pulled out his own. Impressive doesn’t begin to cover it. Big, meaty, thick. While he was barely a man, he had a man’s cock to be sure. I’m sure some in his high school and college gyms gave second looks in awe or envy. Or lust. Or all three.

“Ben” tugged on his meat while he expertly sucked mine.

The thrill of having him there, along with where were doing it spurred me on faster than I would have normally taken. I told him it would be a big load and to be prepared. I also confirmed that he would swallow. He took it all like a champ. Like I said, he was no novice – not by a long shot. Even experienced cocksuckers will gag or eventually pull off my cock before I’m done shooting. Not Ben. Every single drop was ingested. He was good.

Immediately when he was done, he showed signs of being right at the edge of his own orgasm and I do mean RIGHT at the edge. I swooped down as fast as I could and I technically I got it, but there wasn’t much to get. I think the orgasm was mostly internal – and being 22, you know this wasn’t even the first time he had gotten off today, so the volume was minimal.

The second time, we traded sequences. I was the one on my knees first.

The cock was fucking beautiful. And he had big, swinging nuts.



Here is where Mr. 22 Year Old lacked. He was a clumsy feeder. Ben didn’t quite have the movements down most of the time. He could not time his thrusting to my bobbing, no matter how many times I tried to readjust things on my end. I realize that I couldn’t educate him right then, so I took the initiative to change the pace, but to no avail. No matter what I did, his movements were awkward and inexperienced. Clearly, the experience he had was on his knees, not in the feeding category. But this is what your 20s are for………or teens for some of us………to learn how to feed and eat. I considered this part of his education.

I will give him this, he knew how to grab a head and fuck a face. Or he knew the idea to do it, even if the mechanics weren’t all that fluid. This is a skill he will refine over time, no doubt. And I’m happy to help him practice said skill.

His load was ok. Nothing great, but again, I’ll defer that being younger, and remembering what it was like to be that age, the act of getting off was a frequent occurrence, every single day. Still, I took every drop like he had done to me and showed I could do as well as he. I wouldn’t say he was impressed, but guys that age rarely are, or rarely show it.

The third time, it was just me on my knees. No reciprocation. The clumsiness was still there. The face fucking took center stage more often than not, though he allowed me to basically worship his phallus. My tongue would run along the underside of his shaft, then the side, then around the head, all before swallowing him down to his pubes. Then the face fucking would begin again.

Again, the load was ok, but for me, at least with him, it was about showing him what a good mouth can do on a great cock.

He wanted to watch me jack off and shoot after he was done, but you know me, jacking off isn’t really my thing. I played along for a bit knowing I would never shoot. And eventually he had to get back to his volunteering duties. Though if I could sign-off on his learning abilities in this position, I would. I just don’t think whomever he reported to would appreciate as much as some of you.