No Longer Bi-Curious (11)

For a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, my surf and turf was prettier darn good. The ribeye was tender and just the way I prefer: medium rare and coated with coarsely ground black pepper. The half dozen shrimp were jumbo, deep fried in a light tempura batter. I?m not a big potato guy, but the rosemary seasoned wedges were a pleasant surprise. Toss in a creamy Brussels sprout slaw and this was a meal fit for a king. As you might imagine, I needed another Miller to get me through all this food.I don?t like driving with a buzz, so I ordered a cup of joe and a slice of pecan pie to stall before I hit the road. I really wanted the pie ala mode; but at forty-five, I?m watching my waistline.As I sat in the F150 waiting for the cross traffic to clear, I had a decision to make: turn left and head home to an empty house or turn north on Old 25 toward the ABS. North it was. That unsettled feeling in my cargo shorts told me I needed some guy to polish my trailer hitch ball and release my pent-up tension.This would be my first ABS visit after dark. I?m not sure what I expected, but the parking lot was pretty much full. I actually considered turning around. What if I ran into a neighbor or Pastor Rick? The answer was obvious. If they were visiting an ABS with an arcade, they were there to suck or be sucked, same as me.I forked over a five and received five tokens in return from a clerk I didn?t recognize. My pretty boy, girly-lipped clerk presumably worked only the day shift. I avoided eye contact with the four or five guys milling around near the dildos and butt plugs and was buzzed back into the arcade.The small amount of light remaining as the door shut behind me, allowed Malatya Escort me to navigate around two guys getting it on immediately to my right. A twenty-something (snood, hoodie, and with his pants around the ankles) was leaning forward with his hands up above on the wall. Pouring the coal to him from the rear was a massive biker dude, MC vest and all. My timing was perfect, I suppose. As I squeezed behind the breeding duo, Mr. Big violently humped forward and moaned: ?Bitch, take my cum.?I cracked a smile and headed around the corner. I was greeted by a wall of heat and that almost overwhelming, earthy aroma we all associate with sweat and day-old spilled jizz. The brain is a weird thing, as the question mine posed was: ?Just how much more stink would be added by that leaking load from the biker?s bitch at the arcade door?? Mental note to self: avoid the puddle. To my relief the central booth was unoccupied.I plunked in two tokens and unzipped. I navigated to the CD/Tranny sites. The first video was beyond perfect. I beautiful young T-girl was slowly removing her bra, garter belt, thong, and sheer hose. Her movements were ultra slow and deliberate; looking up coyly at the camera the entire time. Just prior to rolling down her stockings, she turned her back to the camera. She kicked off her four-inch stripper heels and slowly bent forward to tighten her tiny ass and expose her hairless rosebud. An involuntary gasp arose from my chest, perhaps louder than ideal.While leaning forward, she shifted her hands from her knees to each cheek, excruciatingly slowly pulling them apart to the point a tiny glistening gap appeared in Malatya Escort Bayan her guy pussy. Another gasp: would I fuck that? Damn straight, back to the Stone Age.She arose, slipped back into her CFMs (Come Fuck Me heels) and once again turned toward the camera. This may sound like hyperbole, but she was stunning: pretty face, maybe 5?7? out of her shoes, 5?11? in. She weighed no more than 110 or 115#. She was smooth and had zero ink. Her titties were perky at perhaps 32A with rock-hard jelly bean nipples. I could almost feel the peach fuzz on her belly and almost smell her talc. She had a cute little prick, maybe three inches long when erect, and a small vestigial ball sac. All in all, a ten out of ten.I must have truly been aroused. When I looked down, I had been jerking my sausage to its full eight inches and there was a two-inch drip of precum seemingly in suspended animation, dangling from its head. This activity presumably caught the attention of the next booth occupant, as there was a shift in the glory hole lighting and two fingers slid in and out.I was super horny and wasted no time turning and pointing my meat toward the aperture. I could see the bottom half of my servicer?s face: white male with a well/trimmed goatee, lips parted. A grabbed the handles some thoughtful person had installed up above, right, and left. As an aside, these have pros and cons. On the positive side, these allow a person to go full boat with both balls and cock pushed fully through the GH; but negatively, the arching position kills my low back.Anyway, back to the action! My sucker?s technique wasn?t bad at all. He took his time: Escort Malatya first licking up and down the shaft. He lifted my balls and thoroughly licked the adjacent taint, then shifted back to what I interpreted as kissing the entire length of my sex toy. The moment of truth came soon after, as his warm mouth slid around the precum-lubricated head. It felt heavenly, actually too heavenly. I could feel that rumble somewhere deep behind my scrotum and knew I was close to shooting a big load. He must have sensed I was close, as he disappointingly stopped sucking altogether. Before I could complain, there was a hand once again around my kielbasa. Somehow this stroking was different: almost tentative. But, any port in a storm. Right?The slow, light stroking continued for a minute or two and thankfully a warm mouth began sucking in earnest. Then my servicer added a hand to my balls, pulling them downward to the point of discomfort. I withdrew somewhat back to my booth. Two things occurred: first, my balls (to my relief) were released and second, I could see bright red lipstick on my dick! What the fandango? A quiet female voice said: ?Join us.?I figured I had two choices. I could stay in my booth and give myself a predictable manual extraction or I could venture next door into an unknown environment. I chose the latter.I heard their door unlock as I exited mine. Thankfully (actually I didn?t really care) no one was in the corridor, since I hadn?t bothered putting my semi-hard pecker back in the barn. Upon opening their door, I was pleasantly surprised. Instead of a troll and his inbred sister, a smiling middle-aged couple greeted me. She was probably my age and he five years older, making them forty-five and fifty respectively. They were tan, healthy looking, and dressed like they?d just finished a round of golf: both wearing Bermuda shorts, collared polo shirts (hers, sleeveless), and deck shoes. She pulled the door shut and locked it.