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.