For those of you who go to adult bookstores - you know how there is always this guy who borderlines on creepy and sexy?
He's the kind of guy that if others are around you might purposefully dismiss, but when left to your own devices can't stop thinking, "maybe.......".
And that maybe usually turns out that their actual air of sleaziness pays off mostly in big ways. That is if, you like a sleazy, smarmy guy taking out his dick for a guy like you (me) to suck. You might think he's low, but you're the one on your knees.
There is a certain hotness to this.
Such was the case in this bookstore. Pearl snap shirt. I'm guessing in his early 60s. Even his moustache was sleazy looking. Yet, again, that confident air.
I know he looked in on me giving head to at least the second guy I mentioned (Bookstore 2). He stood there, watching my skills more than he was watching the guy feeding me.
I know he saw me walking into the bathroom and I assume he saw the fucker walk-in before me (Bookstore 3). While he might not have known exactly what went on in that bathroom, he probably knew we weren't braiding each other's hair.
Each time I'd walk past him, in my search for cock, he'd leer at me. I still wasn't at that place mentally where I told myself I wanted to go down on him, but internally I knew I was on my way to that place. A few times with me sitting in the booth(s), he stop in the doorway and I'd ignore or shoo him away. It never deterred him coming back.
At one point, I looked at him and he at me. I didn't say no. I didn't wave him away. Encouraged, he stepped in to the booth. I didn't stop him.
I sat on that seat, he stood near me.
No words from me. Maybe saying I wanted it would be too much.
No words from him. If he talked, he might risk the opportunity
No words from him, as I assume he knew his ability to make guys like me put his cock in their mouth was his strength.
And it's not that his cock was spectacular. Maybe 7" thin. Nothing bad, but it was his mindset - or what I perceived his mindset to be - that was his sexuality.
He stood not moving. He knew I'd make the first move. I did. He knew he had to do nothing but supply the meat.
I leaned in, I took him in my mouth. "Good boy" I heard barely above a whisper.....and a hand on the head. Somewhat avuncular, somewhat predatory. Maybe a little of both, not that they are exclusive.
I worked the dick in part to make him hard and get off. I worked the dick in part to get him off so he'd leave. Guys have guilt about sex after they shoot. Sometimes feeders have it during - but the need to suck overrides the guy who might not be as desirable.
Get it done. Get it off. Get it over with.
It took 10 minutes. I slipped from the bench to the floor, his cock never leaving my mouth. He was hard and I knew he'd have a load for me. And I worked it out.
"Oh yeah, that's it" was the only other words he said, and that was right before he shot. I knew he was going to. The load was minimal, but tasty.
Again, it wasn't about physical prowess, it was mental - and his being self-assured. He carried it in the way he walked and how he approached guys. That he had seem my devotion did not hurt his cause, as he knew what he was dealing with.
He stepped out and I stayed a few minutes longer.
Passing through to the other side of booths, he barely nodded as he chatted with the fucking bookstore clerk.
1 comment:
Well I loved your story, not so much for the content, for the subject, but for the skill in telling it. One thing that bothers me; am I, or will I be the creepy guy in your tale? (I've never been to a bookstore, but if I ever visit one, I fear I will be the creepy guy in the pearl snap shirt.)
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