Blowing Adonis - A Glory Hole Dream

He changed the channel. He was watching the same movie as I was. I looked past him. The pushy fucker kept running his finger on the bottom of the hole. The little bit of a gut guy ignored him. He glanced my way. I leaned back and stroked my dick. He leaned forward and watched. He looked to be in his thirties. He blocked my view of pushy fucker; I didn't care. I wasn't sure what he wanted. To watch? To suck me? I stood up. He didn't gesture. I stepped closer. He didn't move. Okay. Watching is fine but I was hungry for more cock before my money ran out. If he didn't make a move, I'd leave when my time expired.

I put my finger on the bottom of the cut out. He stood, unzipped and pulled out his cock. It was respectable enough. It wasn't as magnificent as the mechanic's but it was respectable enough. He stroked it but didn't step forward. I put my hand through the opening, palm up. I didn't think he was going to do anything but finally he stepped forward and let his dick rest in my hand. I pulled at his cock, milking it. I didn't get a lot of precum so I licked my hand. When my spit-slicked hand moved over the head of his cock, he shivered. It occurred to me that he might be newer at this than I was. I urged him forward with my hand and every so slowly he responded. We both had to drop another token. When I turned back from the machine, I went to my knees again. I held my hand out but on my side of the partition. He hesitated, then stepped forward and offered me his cock. I stroked him a few times, hoping it would help him relax. When I took him in my mouth, another shiver ran through his body. I could see it and the partition vibrated.

I went slow. I deep throated him, then came off his cock slowly, pressing my tongue against the underside. I pressed the tip into his slit and then went to work on the head. Without warning, my mouth filled with his cum. "Oh, jeez. I'm sorry. Fuck." He started to pull away but I held onto him, one hand on his cock, the other through the glory hole and on his hip. I held onto him until he finished cumming. I held on to him, softly, as his dick deflated in my mouth. When I finally took my mouth away from his dick, I kept my hand on his hip and leaned to the opening. "You've got a beautiful cock. That was amazing. Thanks." Feeling sort of dumb, I licked around the head of his cock and let him go. As he was putting himself together, I saw the booth beyond him was empty. Pushy fucker was either gone or had moved to another booth.

After beautiful cock left my old booth, I returned, sacrificing the last couple of minutes of my token in the other booth. There was a light on over prepster's booth and the one next to it. I glanced through the crack. It was him. There was a cock shoved through the hole to his left but he was ignoring it. My guess was that it was pushy fucker but I didn't care enough to check. Maybe he'd flush the prepster to my side of the aisle. I returned to 'my' booth and dropped a token. Each token bought me four minutes as I recall. Four tokens to a dollar. I had put a twenty into the token dispenser. I had another ten, that I couldn't afford to spend, if the situation called for it.

I had dropped a second before someone entered the booth to the left. I turned the volume up on my movie, figuring it would move things along if he knew I was watching gay porn. When I glanced over I groaned inside; it was pushy fucker. He didn't say anything. He just sat down and beckoned with one finger. Manners should be rewarded. I stepped to the hole. He was a 'put his mouth over the head of your dick and give you a hand job' kind of cock sucker but he made the effort. When I got bored I stepped back and dropped to my knees. The door of my booth opened in this direction, even if I opened it the prepster wouldn't be able to see much, I'd be behind the door. I glanced at the door. The crack on this side of the door was smaller but there was someone there. I glimpsed the Big Gulp cup. Well, I figured I might as well give him a show for his efforts. And I might as well reward pushy fucker's discovery of common courtesy.

I used every trick I knew to suck his dick. Deep throat. Head pop. Stroke. Ball cupping. Ball sucking. Slit tonguing. Crown swirl. The works. When I felt him getting close, I stroked him, tongue out, just like the first guy. For all the work I'd put in, his ejaculation was a tad disappointing. Maybe he'd just jerked off or something but based on what had just occurred, no one would label him a big shooter. Still, it was cum and that's what I was here for. Pushy fucker zipped up and left.

Someone else entered before the door closed. It wasn't the prepster. It was another cum dumper. He didn't have as nice a cock as the mechanic but, again, it was respectable. Prepster had to periodically hop back in a booth and drop tokens to keep the A.J.-monster sated. When his eye appeared at the crack, I reached behind me and open the door to my booth. I couldn't open it much, it hit my feet but I hoped it would be enough for him to take the hint and come in. If nothing else he'd get a better view. To my surprise, he took the hint.

I looked over my shoulder and there he was, bulge, two polo shirts and all, standing in the corner, watching me suck a cock. I took my mouth of the cock and tilted my head, sucking a ball into my mouth. That earned a groan from the other side of the wall. It also allowed me to get a better look at the prepster. He had brown curly hair and dark eyes. He was cute enough but not particularly memorable. I've already told you all I can remember about him, except his body. I haven't gotten to that part yet. I switched from sucking on the guy's ball to stroking his cock with my lips, just like with the first guy but this time the prepster had a close-up view. I held up my free hand but didn't want to spook him so I didn't reach for him.

He stepped closer. I touched the bulge in his shorts with my fingertips. He pushed his hips forward. I closed my fingers around as much of the hard shaft beneath those ugly fucking madras as I could and squeezed. His dick was a piece of hot granite. I let go and pressed a fingertip to the head of his cock. His shorts were wet. I can remember wanting to yank his fucking shorts off and taste his dick, his precum, but I already had a dick in my mouth, or close to my mouth. I turned my head back and swallowed the glory hole cock. One hand, my left, cupped the glory hole sack. The other was stretched behind me, rubbing a hard dick trapped under ugly shorts. I took all the cock down my throat and held it. While I was holding still, the fingers of my right hand found the zipper and slowly started to pull it down. I went slow giving him plenty of time to stop me. He didn't.

I began to bob my head up and down on the cock, while my fingers probed inside the now opened fly. No underwear. My fingers touched hot skin over hard flesh. I groaned around the cock in my mouth. Hearing that, the glory hole cock began to thrust. I timed my mouth and my hand to his thrusts. When he started to cum, I pulled back and gave myself my first deliberate facial. I turned back and babied his cock with my mouth until he pulled away and began to zip up.

I swiveled on my heels to face the hipster. He stood there, fly unzipped, tantalizing flesh visible between the copper teeth. I extended my hand and stroked the flesh with a fingertip. He wasn't wearing a belt. I debated between fishing his cock out through the fly or unbuttoning his shorts. As I debated, he opened the door and walked out of the booth.

Son of a bitch!

I hopped to my feet, frustrated, and watched as he crossed the aisle, back to his booth. He dropped a token and turned. I expected him to close the door. He didn't. He sat the Big Gulp cup on the floor. I remember hoping he wouldn't pick it up later and keep drinking out of it. Why sucking anonymous cock didn't bother me but drinking out of cup that had sat on that nasty floor did is something I cannot explain. When he straightened up, he pulled off the two polo shirts, folded them nicely and put them on top of the stool.

Even in the dim light I could see his body was smooth and hairless. It was obvious his armpits where shaved. I could see that when he had his arms up, pulling the polo shirts over his head. Whether his chest was shaved or he simply didn't have a lot of chest hair, I couldn't tell. Men shaving their body hair in Lincoln, Nebraska at that time had to be rarer than a prepster in Lincoln, Nebraska. As I was processing the information that my eyes were feeding my brain, and my cock, he unbuttoned his shorts. He slipped them off over his shoes, balancing first on one foot then the other. I completely understood him wanting to keep his shoes on. Well, I understand it now. I probably wasn't wondering about it at the time because my attention was fixated on his cock.

If any cock can compete with the mechanic's for top spot on the 'all-time greatest cock' list, it was the prepster's. It was a glorious piece of meat. A work of art. His whole body was a work of art. As I've already mentioned, his face was nice but not one that is lodged in my memory, not so his body. He was ripped without looking fake. On him, his body seemed to be perfectly natural. The muscles of his arms were defined, his pecs, his abs -- nobody I knew talked about six-packs back then, but his six-pack was fine. He had a ridge of muscle that ran from the top of his hip down toward his dick. Thighs, calves, all displayed ropes of muscle. He could have been sculpted by Michelangelo.

His dick was shaved.

I might have staggered. I hope not but I might have. I couldn't have been more surprised if fucking Clark Kent had transformed into Superman in front of my eyes. The prepster had the body of a demi-god but not one of those Greek gods with their tiny wangs. The prepster was packing some serious fucking dick.

It wasn't grotesquely huge. Like the rest of him, it fit. I'm sure if you measured his head, torso, dick, legs, and arms, they'd come out to some sort of golden ratio of perfect proportions. His balls hung perfectly in their smooth sack. I couldn't tell it from where I was standing but I wasn't surprised later to discover there wasn't a bump, a pimple, not a single blemish on his ball sack, hell, anywhere on his smooth body.

He was uncut.

His cock was already hard, so the foreskin was pulled tight over the head. I could just see the head peeking out, wet and glowing and begging to be sucked.

I lost my mind. I dropped five or six tokens in the machine and then pulled off my clothes. My jeans were too tight to pull off over my shoes. I took them off and stood on the sticky floor in my bare feet -- and I didn't care. I dropped my clothes in a heap. My wallet was still in my jean's pocket, holding the back-up cruising ten-dollar bill and the five I'd need for gas to get back to campus. I left everything in a pile on that nasty floor and walked across the aisle in my bare feet, naked. If A.J. had seen me he'd have had the cops out there in a second. He'd look the other way as much as he could, he wanted the money, but he expected the patrons to play their part in the charade. Part of my brain still knew that fact. That was the part that had dropped the tokens, in order to keep the light above my now empty booth aglow.

The prepster stepped back enough for me to enter. He didn't close the door. He moved back. I could have scrunched in and closed it but I didn't. I don't recall now if that was because I didn't think to do so or because I wanted it open. My best guess, is that the latter is closer to the truth. I went to my knees. He held his cock up with one hand and I leaned forward and wrapped my lips around it.

Instinct, or divine command, caused me to hold his dick just behind the head, keeping the foreskin from sliding back when I pushed my tongue under it. I'd never done that before. In my limited experience with uncut dick I simply sucked it like any other dick. It seemed to me there was a cup of precum nectar trapped under his foreskin. I swirled and lapped and there always seemed to be more. The more I licked and sucked and probed, the drunker I became. I was high as fucking kite on his precum.

He shifted and I followed his lead. It put us perpendicular to the door. I knew before I glanced that someone would be standing in my booth, their back to the video playing on the screen, eyes on me, naked and kneeling, sucking off a demi-god. There was. That's all I can tell you. I don't remember a single other detail, except there was someone standing in the booth across the way, door open, pants down, dick out, stroking.

I relaxed my hand as I pushed my head forward. A hand rested on the top of my head, as if he were giving me a benediction. My mouth slid easily over the hard, smooth cock. My nose touched smooth skin. Perhaps it's my memory playing tricks on me, but I don't recall any stubble. Maybe he had one of those rare conditions where you don't have any hair but then he wouldn't have had any on his head either. Maybe he was a very early adopted of the male Brazilian, or maybe I'm just not remembering it correctly. I do remember his cock tasted like cock and smell liked cock.

I may have elevated him to god-like status in my mind but that didn't keep me from grabbing his ass with both hands and pulling him deep into my throat. I held him there, massaging his shaft by pressing and relaxing my tongue. I tried something for the first time that day. I hummed. I hummed with his cock in my throat. The fingers resting on my head tightened and my heart soared. I had pleased him. I'm not exaggerating for effect. I was on my knees worshipping, worshipping his cock, his body. I was desperate for his approval.

His cock was large enough I could use both hands to stroke him while I sucked him. I'd stop to play with his foreskin. I was fascinated by it. The other uncut guys I'd blown at that point in my life hadn't been nearly this interesting. On the other hand, they hadn't seemed to be anything other than mere mortals. I played with it with my fingers, my lips, my tongue. I pushed it back and gloried in the shiny head. Of course, I was more eager to suck it. I did plenty of that. I don't know how long. I heard him drop more tokens. I glanced over at my old abode. There were now two guys standing in it, giving each other hand jobs and watching me suck cock. They were feeding the machine tokens. My clothes were shoved into one corner.

The hand moved from my forehead to under my chin and urged me to my feet. I was reluctant, very reluctant, to surrender his cock but I obeyed. He turned, put one foot on the lower rung of the stool and leaned over the seat. He licked the fingers of one hand, spread his ass with the other and rub his asshole. His asshole and crack were as smooth and hairless as the rest of his marble-like body. He nodded toward his own ass. I understood. I'd never done it, I was a cock sucker, but I'd seen it done in the videos.

I had to stand, the stool put him out of my reach. So, I stood, and bent forward in an obsequious bow, and pushed my mouth against his sphincter. I didn't consider not doing it. I didn't stop to wonder if he was clean, would his ass taste bad. He offered, or commanded, to this day I'm not sure which, and I obliged.

His ass didn't taste bad. I'd discovered a new passion. I laved the pucker rim of muscle with my tongue. I pressed my nose against it. I stiffened my tongue and pushed beyond it. He moved against my face and I felt another surge of pride that it was within my power to satisfy him.

"Put your cock inside me."

Those were the only words I heard him speak. I straightened and walked closer. He twisted and took my cock in his mouth. I still regard it as a miracle that I didn't shoot my wad on the spot. He wet my cock with his mouth and then turned to lean over the stool again. He bent his knees slightly, lowering his ass. This was something else I had never done. I'd never even fucked a girl. I had sucked dick and had my dick sucked. That was it. I recall a sense of panic. I'd seen ass fucking in plenty of videos but what if I screwed it up?

His hand reached around and wrapped around my dick. He guided me forward, rubbed the head of my cock over his spit-slicked orifice, and then pushed against me. As hard as my dick was I didn't see how this could work. His asshole was closed tight. He pushed, holding me firm with one hand. I pushed to meet him. Then I was inside. Just like that, the resistance disappeared and the head of my cock slipped inside him. I felt him stiffen and held myself still. He pushed back. His hand left my dick. He kept pushing and suddenly, my belly and thighs were pressed against his ass and my cock was sheathed by his body.

It was so warm, unbelievable warm, as if I soaked a washcloth in hot water and wrapped it around my dick. The inside of his ass had something of the same texture as a washcloth, not actually rough but not actually smooth either. He moved his hips back and forth a few times, then stopped. I took that as my clue to start doing my part. So, I fucked the prepster demi-god's ass. I thrusted slowly at first, still unsure of what I was doing. As my body awoke to the sensations it was experiencing for the first time, I gave it the reins. My body fucked him; my mind simply went along for the ride.

I moved faster. He began to move, matching my rhythm. My dick popped out. I pushed back inside him. Later it popped out again, when I pushed against him my cock slid up the crack of his ass. I pulled back, steadied my cock with the fingers of my right hand and re-entered him. I realized our bodies filled the dark, dank back of the store with the sounds of flesh on flesh. As far as I am aware, I never once gave A.J. a thought during this time. He could have been up front with an entire precinct and I wouldn't have known.

He seemed to sense when I was close. He started shoving back against me so hard I had to brace myself to keep from falling backward.

I've never cum that hard in my life, ever, not before, not since, ever.

Once I started cumming I was unable to keep fucking him. He did that on his own, slamming into me time and time again. He fell forward on the stool. My conscious self was starting to stir, the dream was ending. It was done.

He turned and took my cock in his mouth. His eyes smiled at me as I gasped. When I'd grabbed my dick to push it back inside him, I'd seen no mess. My cock was slick but not dirty. Still, when he swallowed my cock, fresh from his ass, I was surprised. I've never done that.

His mouth was agony, sweet agony (so it's a cliché, fuck off) but agony nonetheless. Every nerve ending in my cock was singing. My brain was overwhelmed with sensation. It couldn't sort hot from cold, pain from pleasure. Still, I didn't push him away. The sweet outweighed the agony. I dared to run my fingers through his hair.

He stood up and my now mostly limp cock fell between my knees. I shook my head, trying to clear it. He leaned back, his bare ass against the stool. I could see my cum running down the inside of his legs. I knelt. (It wasn't until the next day I realized how abraded and bruised my knees were.) I ran my hand up the inside of his right leg, from the knee all the way up to his ball sack. When I pulled my hand away it was shiny with cum, my cum, that had leaked from his ass. I licked my fingers. All I tasted was cum. I ran my hand up the inside of his left leg, licked my fingers again. Then, I grabbed his cock and finished what I'd started.

He moved with me this time. Soon, he was fucking my mouth more than I was sucking his dick. His cum filled my mouth so quickly that I gagged a little. Cum went up into the back of my nose. I snuffed it back and focused on not missing a drop. He came and I sucked and swallowed. I had wished earlier for big loads. I wasn't disappointed. I swallowed and swallowed.