Several years ago I got divorced and had to move in to an apartment with two other roommates, friends I had made back in college. It was a good fit, but one of my roommates, Jeremy, worked from home, so I rarely had any sort of privacy. I slowly began dating and getting my head back on straight after a really horrible five year marriage. I was always a pretty active masturbator, but after my divorce I seemed to go into overdrive. I was craving sexual release three, sometimes four times a day. I found it increasingly challenging to find a place to do a lot of jerking off at the level I was wanting. I really enjoy edging for two or three hours sometimes, so disappearing into my bedroom for hours on end tended to be difficult to explain. Ideally I averaged orgasming about 3 times a day, the 4th was always a bonus, so my two roommates regular presence guaranteed little to no privacy for long stroking sessions.
Sometimes I was lucky if I got to cum just once a day, which kept me really keyed up almost constantly. I got laid occasionally and had a few girlfriends for a month or two, but never really found anyone serious that was as kinky or as perpetually horny as I was. Part of the problem in the bedroom was the fact that I wanted hour-long blowjobs, a challenge most women have trouble meeting. I was totally willing to reciprocate though. I could eat pussy until my lips were numb, but most girls pussies get a bit tender after 30 minutes of being chewed and sucked. Go figure!
I did a lot of bicycling in those days to stay in shape and reduce my stress level and collected a hell of a lot of flat tires over several years of off-road biking. Most of these blown tubes I changed myself and a pile of inner-tubes which would never hold air again slowly collected in the corner of my storage shed where I made repairs. Being the hardcore cock-stroker that I am I eventually started wondering what it would feel like to lube up and fuck the smooth, black, inner linings of these soft rubber tubes.
The first thing I had to figure out was which tubes would fit me. At first glance, most of the older 10-speed tubes were far too small for my stiff cock to penetrate, much less screw comfortably. I took some quick measurements. My cock is right at an even eight full inches long when full erect. I first tried to measure the width with a ruler but found that the closer I pressed the ruler across my cock, the wider the width got as I pressed against it, giving me a wider than accurate reading. I solved this problem by taking the circumference of my fully engorged cock with string, and then measuring the length of the string. It ended up being 5.25 inches around. I applied some quick geometry to this to determine my cock diameter to be 1.7 inches wide fully hardened.
I was in luck. I had salvaged several wrecked rims over the years from old bikes and bike parts I had collected, and pulled out a 26 inch 1.5-2.0 tube and a 26 inch 1.75-2.25 tube. I cut a foot long length of tubing from each tube and shoved each one down a 8 x 2 inch piece of PVC. I wrapped the 2 inch pieces of rubber tubing that stuck out of each end of the PVC back onto the outside of the pipe and secured each end with rubber bands.
Now I had two homemade pussies of varying tightness. They made me hard in my shorts just looking at them, knowing how I was going to be abusing them soon in ways that were never intended. Late that afternoon I threw my new toys in my backpack with a jar of Vaseline and a towel and biked out to the old abandoned drive-in theatre in the woods behind my neighborhood.
The little dirt road leading out to the old drive-in was overgrown with weeds and washed out, so it was rare that anyone ever found a reason to drive out there anymore. Occasionally some moron with a spray can would graffiti up the place with their nickname, or some clever foul exclamation, but otherwise it had become long forgotten and had closed back in 1980 when the six screen multiplex opened across town. The marquis at the edge of highway 84 on the edge of town was so overgrown and obscured with trees and brush it could barely be seen any more. The roof of the projection building had fallen in years earlier and the tiny concession shack had long since collapsed into a rotting heap of wood and rusted nails. A few leaning 3 foot metal poles still stood in rows, minus the projection speakers which once hung from them.
The giant projection screen was torn in multiple places and graffiti lined the lower edge. The rear of the theatre screen had a small narrow room at the lower base, spanning the length of the screen. This access area had allowed theatre workers to periodically make adjustments and perform maintenance to the back of the screen whenever needed. The best part about this little closeted sanctuary was the old wood hinged door that still opened and closed reasonably well and could be locked from the inside! This long tiny closet is where I would spend many long in disturbed sessions stroking, edging, and blowing countless loads across the back side of the movie screen that thousands of people had once viewed untold numbers of great movies on from the comfort of their cars. Most of my friends and roommates assumed I spent my alone vigorously time biking in the woods, which I did, just not as long as they supposed.