The Dirty Dick

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A parking lot hook-up gets dirtier than expected.
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Author's note: I welcome your comments and private messages if you have any feedback, constructive criticism, dirty stories, salacious suggestions, etc., or would just like a friendly email when I post a new story. I will also send you a personalized picture of my cock on request.

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The wrap party was at one of those posh downtown "event spaces", the sort of place I would never go. I'm not sure what their concept was, but with leather couches, ornate miniature fountains and mirrors all over the walls it looked like a picture of The Continental Baths.

"What is this, a gay bar?" I jokingly asked my friend Marie.

"No, but I guess you could call it 'queer-friendly'," she said.

"Well, not a surprise in the theatre world," I joked.

"Oh, don't be so stereotypical," she told me. "Anyway, there'll be lots of hot women here. Straight ones, even."

Marie had invited me to come along with her, even though her art scene isn't really my thing. She could network, she had said, and I could enjoy the open bar... and maybe score with some art chicks. It had been a long dry spell, and Marie knew I was on the prowl.

Not long after we walked in, she introduced me to a few people who were standing off to one side. As they launched into shop talk and gossip about people I didn't know, I made my excuses and headed off looking for a drink. I found the bar, and chatted with the bartender, a pretty brunette who was skinny but had really nice tits. She joked as she opened my beer that I was pretty much the only person here not drinking wine, and I smiled at her as I walked away, thinking maybe I'd have to go back and chat with her some more.

And then I wandered around. There wasn't anyone else there I knew, and I'm not the most extroverted type, so after a lap around the room, I was wondering who I was going to talk to. There was a TV off in one corner with the sound off, showing the ball game, so I stood in front of it to watch for a minute.

"They're never gonna do anything this year... no pitching," I heard a voice behind me say.

As I half-turned, a guy stepped beside me. He also looked a little out of place here – thick-bodied and muscled, but working muscles, not gym muscles. Like me, he was drinking a beer.

"They have a bullpen," I said, "but they got to pitch about five innings every game."

We bantered a bit more about the local team before introducing ourselves. It turned out that Larry was a set-builder and carpenter, which was kinda interesting, so I ended up asking him a bunch of questions about how that worked. He seemed willing to talk about it, so we were chatting for a while. I even went to get us more beers, smiling again at the pretty bartender – who smiled back a really sexy smile at me as I tipped her.

We were sitting on a leather couch by the TV now, talking about baseball and, after he picked up on a random reference I made, about Doctor Who. Pretty soon we were getting near the end of our beers again when Larry made a joke about the odds of "getting lucky" at an event like this.

I was thinking about the bartender, and I blurted out, "maybe I'll get lucky tonight."

Larry leaned forward to set his beer on the table in front of us, and as he leaned back, his hand brushed against the inside of my knee. "You can get lucky if you want," he said.

Wait, I wondered to myself. Is he coming on to me?

"Larry," I said. "Are you coming on to me?"

"Fuck yeah," he said, his hand again touching my leg. "I'm horny as hell and ready to go right now."

I was taken aback, but more amused than offended. "Shit," I said, with a bit of a laugh, "I didn't mean to lead you on or anything. I mean, I don't really swing that way."

Larry looked at me. "What, you're a top?"

"No! I mean I'm, ah... y'know... straight."

Larry looked a little surprised. "Sorry dude, I guess I read you wrong. I thought you were flirting with me when you were asking all those questions about set building. And well... I mean, you know the guys you meet at theatre parties and all that..."

I laughed. "My friend Marie says that's stereotyping." I looked across the room. "Actually, maybe I should go find her... I abandoned her to some producer types."

I stood up and grabbed my near-empty beer. "I'll catchya," I half-muttered as I headed away.

It took me a few minutes to find her on the other side of the room, which was now getting pretty crowded. A younger, more glamorous wave of guests had arrived. Actors and their friends, I guessed. They looked like the sort of people who went to dance clubs and did lines of coke and drank vodka-and-waters to stay skinny. They were all very sexy – and Christ was I getting horny – but they just didn't seem like my type.

I found Marie talking to a couple different men, younger guys in expensive suits. I sidled up and tried to slip into their conversation, but very quickly, Marie was flashing me get-away looks. I could tell they had changed topics when I came up, and now it felt sort of tense. Must be business, I thought to myself, realizing I had to get out of there.

"I gotta go get another drink," I said, and quickly made my exit. I was several steps away when I half-looked back and saw one of the men putting his arm around Marie. Oh, maybe it's something other than business. She'd been in a long dry spell, too.

"Ah, good for her," I muttered to myself as I waited in line at the bar. Through luck – and, admittedly, sort of elbowing my way in front of a guy – I ended up with the pretty brunette bartender serving me again. She gave me a smile of recognition as she opened my beer. An image of those lips wrapped around my cock flashed through my mind.

Well... what the hell! "So, are you up to anything after you finish here tonight?" I asked as I tipped her again, half wincing at using such an obvious line.

"Yeah, I'm going over to my girlfriend's place," she said, with a smile that was a bit more forced now.

"Oh, well... cheers," I said, crushed and mortified as I made my way away from her.

Fuck! I really need to get laid. But the stronger that rose up in me, the more alienating the party felt. All the glamorous people looked like they expected me to take their empty glasses from them rather than chat. I was feeling grumpy and out-of-place as I found myself back around the room by the television and couch. I looked over the back of the broad shoulders still sitting there. He is pretty well put together...

I sat down beside Larry, who was still watching the game.

"Sorry I bailed on you there, it wasn't..."

"Nah, no biggie, dude."

"Anyway, I'm so horny right now – you have no idea. And I'm not picking up anyone in this crowd."

He smiled and put his hand on my knee again.

"All right, so I'm a little curious. What are you looking to do?"

He looked me over. "Yeah, I figured you'd be back. I could tell just looking at you that you've taken it up the ass before, even if you are... y'know... straight."

I pointedly didn't contradict him. How did he know?

His hand squeezed his crotch. Then he grabbed my hand and set it there. "I'm gonna give this to you." He put a finger on my lips. "I'm gonna give you the dirty dick."

I swallowed. Then I stuck my tongue out and licked his fingertip.

We both stood up, and without saying anything, made our way across the room. I vaguely thought about saying good-bye to Marie, but I didn't stop as I fell into step behind Larry. We left the party and got onto an elevator to head down to the parking lot's lower level.

Without talking, we went to his pickup, which was in the far corner, where there weren't any other cars around. I was expecting Larry to unlock the door and get in, so I was surprised when he walked over and lowered the tailgate instead.

He looked around, and then looked at me. "All right. Take 'em off."

"Wait... you mean... you wanna fuck me here?"

"Sure, this is good. I don't think anyone's going to come by here. But admit it: it's a little exciting that they might." He unzipped his pants and fished out his cock. "I know you wanna get your mouth on this, so get your clothes off and come get on it."

The sight of it did send a ripple through my belly, as did the thought of sucking this near-stranger off in a semi-public place. Oh, what the fuck! Go for it!

So I undressed in front of him. I pulled off my sweater and set it in the box, just inside the tailgate. Unbuttoned my shirt, and set it on top. I had to bend down to untie my shoes and grab my socks, and I set those beside the sweater. And then pants and boxers. Now I was naked, and it was somewhat gratifying, based on his hard-on, to see that he found the situation exciting. I took a step toward him, looking down at the oil-stained concrete I was walking on.

"Ugh, this makes me feel a little dirty."

As I reached him, he put a hand on my shoulder, and I dropped to my knees. "Don't worry. I'm going to make you feel very dirty."

I brushed away a pebble from under my knee and then wrapped my hand around his cock.

"It's been awhile," I said. "I hope I remember how to ride one of these things."

"They say you never forget."

It had been a while. But his cock felt very warm and alive and right. Larry was circumsized, and his tool was thick across if not unusually long. His odor was very powerful, manly and sweaty. Half-forgotten sensations – ones that had only emerged lately when I was jerking off – rose up in me, and I was very turned on.

I squeezed his cock and saw a tiny drop of pre-come ooze out. I leaned forward and licked it, surprised as ever at its almost-no-taste, and then moved my lips over his cockhead.

"Yeah, that's right... polish my cock off. Get it ready for your ass." Larry kept muttering more like that, but I hardly heard him as I slipped my lips down his shaft as far as I could go, taking about three-quarters of his cock in my mouth. I started to bob up and down, loving that sensation of feeling flesh on flesh, his cock against my tongue and cheeks.

If he hadn't have stopped me, I would probably have kept going until I could have tasted his come. But he moved back and gestured for me to stand up.

"Turn around," he said. I was facing the back of the pickup truck now. His palm between my shoulders made it clear that he wanted me to bend over. He kept pushing until my elbows were resting against the dusty floor of the truck's box. I tried to arch my back a little and stick my ass out for him.

"Stay just like that," he said, and I half-sensed him moving away from me. He went around to the passenger door and unlocked it. It sounded like he was fumbling around in the glove compartment. I guess that's where he keeps his condoms and lube and everything. He walked back around, and as I sensed him behind me I heard a liquid-y gurgle. There was a clink beside me as he set something down inside the tailgate on the other side of my head.

"You take a swig, too," he said, and I turned to see the bottle of Jim Beam he'd set there. I reached over and grabbed it, tilting the opening towards me, getting a couple swallows and spilling some on my chin. I set it back down and Larry grabbed it and set it somewhere out of my sight.

As I felt the kick of it in my belly, I also felt Larry's hands groping my ass. As tendrils of warmth circulated through me, my mind drifted for a moment, back to college – when my buddy Scott told me that he wasn't entirely straight... and I soon found out that I wasn't either. My mind flashed back to all the things he had taught me: from the pleasures of prostate play to the clinical practicality of the disposable anal douche. That snapped my mind back to the present: hey, what's Larry going to use to clean me out down there?

Just as I thought that, I heard him hawk and spit, and a spray of dampness at the crack of my asscheeks. His thumb rubbed the saliva over my asshole, and then suddenly plunged into me. I stiffened momentarily, and then relaxed. As Larry applied an insistent pressure, his spit let the thumb slide in. While part of my mind enjoyed the sensation, I was also a little embarrassed. Was I supposed to mention something? Did he think I showed up to parties like this after my evening enema?

Quickly, his thumb was pressed in all the way and wiggling around inside me, his fingers gripping the flesh of my asscheek. Just as I was starting to really enjoy it, I felt the thumb withdraw. Moments later, it was rubbing along my hip, and I could feel him spreading a slickness there.

Oh... uh, I think that's my...

I was still sorting that out when I heard Larry spit again, and seconds later, there was something slick rubbing against my asshole. I realized it wasn't a finger as the head of his cock popped inside me. Without a pause, he was insistently pushing his shaft in.

I forgot how easy, how natural this was. It felt wonderful to have him inside me. All of a sudden, I wanted this so badly. But wait, there was something missing. I tried to divert my attention from the pleasure to think for a second.

"Hey Larry," I said, trying to twist my head around to look at him. "Did you put a condom on?"

He reached toward me, his hand gripping the back of my head and turning it back away from him. I felt his cock pulling out of me and then slowly sliding back in.

"Ain't got," he said, slowly withdrawing and pushing forward once more. "What – you wanna stop now?"

It felt so incredible – there was no way I wanted it to stop. I exhaled. "No, no... fuck! I want your cock so bad!"

"All right," he said, "show me. Get that ass moving and ride my cock."

With a moan, I began moving my hips back and forth, pushing back onto his cock and pulling forward. Larry stood still and let me do the work. Even if it felt a bit like his cock was stuck in a pot of glue, he fit in me so perfectly! My hands grabbed onto the edge of the lowered tailgate to give me more purchase as I ground back onto him a little more quickly now. I absently noted that I was drooling, but otherwise, I shut my eyes and just concentrated on moving my hips.

I kept going for a while. I guess he'll let me know when to stop, I thought. I could feel the work in my thighs now, and that distracted me a little from the emanating bursts of pleasure in my belly. When I heard a car driving off in the distance, I was confused for a moment, and there was more excitement rising in me when I remembered that I was essentially getting fucked in a place where anyone could drive past.

That must have excited Larry, too, as he finally began responding to my moving hips with his own thrusts. Without much lubrication, it wasn't smooth sliding, and as he started fucking me with more intensity, I had to stop my own movements and just concentrate on holding on. He was churning my insides, heaving in and out of me, and it felt like both of us were breathing in gasps now.

Once again, I felt his palm on the back of my head, now pushing my face against the cool metal below. With another thrust, he pushed my whole body forward, and I had to let go of the back of the tailgate. Almost on my tiptoes, I was looking for purchase as he kept thrusting into me, and my arms were soon pushed out, braced against the wheel-wells.

All I could do was try and hold myself in place as he rammed into me. I could tell this wasn't at all comfortable, especially for the front of my thighs that were now being driven into the back of the lowered tailgate with each thrust – but it was also amazingly pleasurable, as intense a feeling as I could ever remember experiencing getting fucked.

Part of my mind was also thinking about his cock inside me. The only man who had fucked me bareback had been Scott – everyone else I had flings with after him had always been short term or near-anonymous things, and I'd always insisted on them wearing condoms. Now, I was wondering if the added intensity was just my imagination: it seemed like I could feel the rim of his head and the veins in his shaft as he fucked me. As he fucked me... as it felt so amazingly good...

And then it suddenly stopped, and I realized Larry had pulled out of me.

"All right, bitch," he said, grabbing an arm and pulling me back. "Get on your knees."

I was so busy trying to keep my balance as he pulled me to my feet that I wasn't thinking about what was coming up. Grabbing the tailgate for support, I managed to lower myself to my knees as Larry stepped in front of me.

Suddenly I could see the result of getting fucked without having cleaned out my ass first: his cock, standing tall and erect, was covered with a smeared brown layer.

He moved another step closer, so his cock was in my face – and I could smell it now.

"Time for you to lick it clean," he said, looking down at me.

I felt a heave in my stomach. "Wait! Wha... I mean, I can't! How could anyone..."

"I said I was going to give you the dirty dick," he said.

"I thought that was a figure of speech!"

"It's a figure of my cock. Now lick it clean."

It's true, I thought to myself. That's exactly what he said he was going to do. And I didn't think he meant... I should have been grossed out – yet somehow I was incredibly turned on.

My mind whirled for a moment. Somewhere in the distance I heard a car door slam, and an engine turning over. I looked up at the face that was still glaring down at me. I realized I wanted to be dirty for him. As dirty as I could be.

I leaned in. My tongue darted out, and ran over the head of his cock.

The taste was strong, and very bitter – but not disgusting. I swallowed, and the taste lingered in my mouth. I licked around the rim of his cockhead. Working on that one spot, the brown scum was sticking to his skin, even after my tongue had swabbed over it. I had to lick back and forth again a couple times to clear the bulk of the smear away.

I put the head in my mouth, and let my tongue run over it. I swallowed, and began working my mouth down his shaft. As I began giving him a blowjob, something like a thought-bomb burst in my mind: I am licking... my own shit... off his dick! I'm licking my shit! I'm tasting shit!

This was dirty. I almost gagged as he tried to push more of his cock down my throat, and I had to pull back. But I kept sucking on him.

After a minute, I pulled off, and moved down to lick his balls, which were clean, except for his own powerful sweat-smell. Then I moved up toward the base of his cock, which I couldn't reach when I was blowing him. Near his stomach on the root of his cock there was a thick brown blob, bigger than a quarter, that had obviously been pushed back along his shaft as he was fucking me.

I moved my mouth over it, and with one slow lap of my tongue, I pried it off and flipped it in my mouth. I swallowed as I finished licking all around the base of his cock. As I moved back to start sucking on him again, I realized with a strong glow of satisfaction that his cock was completely clean. I went down on him.

Larry made a strange half-grunting sound. After a few seconds, he spoke. "Okay, whoa, whoa! I'm not ready to come yet. Fuck! You have no idea how much that turns me on."

He took a step back. "Sit up on the edge of the tailgate there."

The aftertaste was still strong in my mouth as I pulled myself up to my feet and lifted myself up so I was sitting on the tailgate, legs dangling over the edge. Larry looked at me, and then looked down at his cock.

"I think maybe you were protesting a little too much when I told you to clean it off. Are you trying to tell me you've never sucked the dirty dick before?"

"No!"

"Well, you truly could have fooled me. I guess you're just a naturally dirty slut."

I didn't have anything to say to that, though I felt a strong sense of satisfaction that I had done it, that I had been dirty for him..

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