A stanger in a Strange Town

 Fuck! ...a strange town.

Know nobody.

And the say, "explore the city, you will love it!"

I was sitting in my motel room, and stepped out to the viewing balcony, down the hall.

Apparently,  though built for "observation," of the new tower, back in the 1960s the Motel owners decided to make it a Smoking Balcony instead.

I stepped out into the twilight view. Enjoyed it, and casually scratched my nuts, in the balmy Summer night air.

After a few minutes, a voice behind me asked, "got a light?"

(I have my father's WWII zipper-light, that I keep filled and operational, in his memory.)

"Yeah, sure."

The lean guy's mild thrombosis veins stood out, in the stark light of the windproof flame, as well as the thick tree-like neck.

"Nice-looking tower. How old's  you sister?" (My dad told me it was a code for windproof lighter conversation. )

"Born in 1942."

He did a trick, or two, and handed it back. "Somethin' special there. I'm Randy." The red-haired stranger intoned.

"Mike, with AmCorps/Galactic..." (damn, I need to shake the business off of me...)

We were leaning against the rail, just chatting.

With no warning, he just unzipped, and poked it through the rail.

Soon, a stream of fluid was on its downfall.

The moon lit the hooded and hairy stubber shoved past the rail.

His red hairs bulging obeying the barrier of the handrail, above his milk-white wand of 4-5", or so, not so much.

"Aaaaa, nothing like having your dork in front of a thousand windows..." Randy proclaimed, "I wonder if Lee Taylor is looking out of any of them?"

"Lee Taylor?"

"Oh, I didn't realize I said that aloud," he blushed. "Lee was the first guy ever to suck on my dick. last I heard he moved here"

It was my turn to blush.

"Ya need to piss?" He said it more like a statement, than a question. "...There's still room at this rail." He offered.

I wasn't sure, but, I was kinda sure he wanted to see mine, so, I did.

When his strong hand reached over and hefted my still dripping  goods, "hell, unless you're talking about smoking pole, I rarely have a cigar..." He bent down guiding my unprepared meat into his Pelican-jawed mouth-cunt.

[I have to admit I first heard "mouth-cunt" in high school when Jody Coshow was describing his cheerleader girlfriend's first blowjob for him....but, I digress]

The sultry night air, the warm deep-throat kiss, of a stranger, in the shadows of a strange city.

The smell of the still-hot sidewalks wafting past, all enhanced the guttural snort-breathing of the hyperactive, definitely randy, cocksucker.

Except for the rare "gulp/ummm," I sorta missed the slow deep drawl of his regional accent.

The head-chew, coupled with the nut-raking, assured me this man enjoys when a dick, even as small as mine, is within the grasp of his lips.

I unsnapped my shirt, top to bottom, in one quick pull.

[Note to self, wipe the forehead-sweat off of my buckle when he's done. ]

His blue, pool-liner, eyes looked up pleading me to cum.

I smiled back, indicating I'm not holding back, when it wells up.

"You're about to get a boatload."

Damn! How can he get his head to move that fast, and not get a concussion?

He was sucking faster, than I can even masturbate! 

My balls' sac, turned from his palm full, to emptier-than-$#!+, in 2 seconds.

I felt him clamp down, bang full-face into my crotch, and sniff a lung-full of pubic air.

He froze, [damn, guy, I'm almost there, don't stop now!]

Randy's tounge gave a base to tip under-milking.

I shot off like a rocket!

The ropes of cream shooting a swath against the back of his mouth.

He wandered back to the hallway door, and never spoke, with his mouthful.

"Damn, ...thanks, Randy."

He gulped.

Without turning, "That's not my name."

"But, ..."

"That's the way I was feeling."

If you enjoy my BJ/JO storytelling,  tell your buddies, (if not shoot me an email.)

If you've  had similar experiences, comment below.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Some oil change

Image
 When he disappeared from work, I had no clue where to check on him, no Facebook, he merely vanished. I don't know how a handsome stud just vanishes, I mean I figured he'd come back and turn in uniforms, be behind the counter at the grocery store, or something. I work in Central warehouse, and he was bucking for forklift operator, wben he suddenly departed.  So, I was bringing him up to speed on the safety courses, before letting him try his hand. ...Then, poof. I normally, by a few months in, figure out a way to see, on every guy I work with, just what he's got to work with ib the package department.  Like, for instance, Jim over there, stubby cut dick with a big left ball,  ...while Mike, on the forklift, is hanging a horsecock and no balls to speak of.   Tony? Well, not ALL black guys have big units.  Terry has a snouted cock, and as it was somewhat cold, I won't complain on his nugget size. But, Denny? Poof. Well, until today. I was getting an oil change kit, some w
Read more

Dan and I Jacked off

Image
 Mom had a neighbor buddy* named Dan, he often visited, and even babysat** for her if she needed. Dan and I were out of town at a Lodgemens' Convention; Mom went to Breckenridge. I was now 19, about to go into the Navy. All my life, I remember Dan was never a modest fella, even back when I still had buddy sleepovers, went camping, or, he took care of our pool; or, if he'd showered, and then trot out nekkid, while scratching his pubes, his dork would wiggle and sway heavily, as he used the Wall Phone, shaved nekkid, or changed slowly. He just never cared to hide it from me or my friends. Dan's puckered penis My sleepover buddies, (after he left our presence,) always commented on his hanging horsemeat. "I Like Dan's... aftershave, ...and his turkey-wattle dick-skin just gave me a stick, ..feel this!" (and, of course, I felt my bud's rod, which was rock solid...hence, an excuse to play with each other's.) So, now seeing Dan in our motel room wandering nak
Read more

Tow Jam

Image
 2nd hour of walking. The heels of my boots are starting to pound through the gel insoles. The day is warm, and I took off the sweat pants an hour ago. I chugged my water bottle.  Air horn, ...thanks asshole, I know you're coming, I heard you a mile back. Air brakes, rush of wind, and the tow truck was stopped, a few hundred yards ahead  I hooked-up, trotting to the passenger door, before he could change his mind. The door popped open, and driver was leaning to pick up an empty Gate-Raid bottle from the modest collection, in the passenger floor. "Climb on in! ...be with ya in a second." In one quick move, shoved a hand into his sweats, flipped his meats over the waistband, and pussy-fucked the mouth of the bottle, ...releasing a torrent of piss into the measurable confines. I stared at his openly relaxed balls, holding up the wantonly open pussy-hole, he lifted the bottle and as his flaccid cock loudly thumped, he screwed on the cap, feigned offering me a guzzle/turn, and
Read more