To be honest, this wasn't my first time, but it's an amusing story. I was hitchhiking, I was feeling weary, I'd slept rough for two days and hadn't eaten too well either. I got sidetracked in Denver, although it's difficult to get sidetracked when you've got no particular place to go. I'd had vague ideas of heading west, for LA porn-land. The girl I was living with caught me jacking-off to Gay online Porn, and went crazy. Foul-mouth stuff I never thought I'd ever hear her say, calling me a 'fag, hey -- you wanna suck cock more than you want to lick my pussy.' Stuff like that. And I kinda thought well - I'm twenty years old, so why not? I've got that kind of look a certain type of Gay guy goes for, slender, young-looking with that barely-legal thing that they like. Bratty, long Punk-curls of blonde hair, but virtually hairless body, except for the pubes. I could do it, so why not?
This pleasant middle-aged guy in a Japanese car picks me up. He asks me how I'm doing, and I guess by the tone of my reply he more or less judges me right. As he's driving he keeps eyeing me up in a curious way, and at length he coughs as though he's building up to something.
He says "Look kid, I don't want to offend you none, but it seems to me that you've got a bad need. Well, it so happens I have needs too which aren't being satisfied. Perhaps we can come to some mutually beneficial arrangement. Feel free to decline, and I'll respect that. We'll be pulling into a hotel stop-over. You come in with me, I'll get you a meal. We stay overnight. Only thing is, you suck my cock."
There was a long reflective silence. I could do with a meal. The hotel comfort sounds inviting. I can't bear sleeping outdoors one more night. So what the hell, I agree. He's as good as his word. It's an anonymous Holiday Inn sort of place that could be anywhere. An identikit hotel. Same corridor floor-plan, same carpets and lighting. Same complimentary cosmetic brands in the same bathrooms. Same population of bored transients, lonely and far from home. Their paths criss-crossing and intersecting across the continent. We eat.
And the sex? Well, I can deal with it. I'll never make Santa's 'nice' list, I've always had a nasty side. Just think of it as a trial Porn-run. If I'm ever gonna make that LA poolside Porn-land I must be up for anything and everything, everything that is, except being pissed on, and maybe that would depend on who it is doing the pissing. Although that's not a true professional attitude, I know. For a Porn pro they say 'you're gonna get pissed on' and you say 'where do you want me?' Well -- maybe baby.
We go up to his room. It seems strange walking down that long corridor beside this guy I hardly know in full awareness that he's soon gonna have his cock in my mouth. Odd and unreal. But he also seems a little nervous and agitated, more so than I am, in an amusing way. So I undress, giving him every opportunity to see me naked, and take a shower, cleaning and sluicing my ass, just in case -- I know what guys are like when they get horny. When I come out the shower toweling myself off he's dimmed the lights to a soft twilight and he's lying on his back on the bed, wearing a dressing gown. Comically, as though he imagines that makes him look like some sophisticated Noel Coward figure. He's brought a bottle of cheap wine, and pours us both a glass. I ditch the towel, and he watches me as I reach out to accept the drink, then throws me a pair of girl's panties.
"Put these on."
I pose for him, acting it out, my genitals bobbing as I bend down to lift first one leg then the other, slowly pulling the flimsy thing up. They are tight, semi-transparent and edged in pink lace. My cock and balls soon clearly visible crushed up inside their tight restriction. I smile at him and let him look. He licks his lower lip in an agitated way, then fumblingly loosens the dressing gown chord, and pulls it aside. A point of no return. If it's now or never, it'd better be now. He has a nice firm circumcised cock. I smile at him reassuringly, sit beside him, take it in my hand and begin to wank it gently up and down its full length. It feels nice in my hand.
"Good girl" he says encouragingly.
So I dip my head, lick its soft crown, kiss it in a lingering-moist way, slip the knob between my lips and begin sucking it. He rests his hands gently on the back of my head, then a little more firmly as he starts flexing his hips in that involuntary way that guys do when they're getting cock-sucked. I let my lips follow the silky smooth surface of his shaft as I ease more of it into my mouth. His erection is rock hard, yet velvety smooth against my lips. How can something be so hard and yet so incredibly soft at the same time?
I brush a cascade of blonde hair aside so he can see what I'm doing to him. So he can see just how much of his cock is slithering between my lips and into my mouth. The visual side of a blow-job is important. Seeing me feeding that rigid monster smoothly into me until it's nudging up against the back of my throat. My tongue slithers intimately around the smooth surface of his bloated cock-head. I'm getting into it, it doesn't matter that he's a stranger whose using me, it doesn't even matter who he is, it's just raw dirty-sex, and that always gets me fired up.
It doesn't take too much time or effort until he warns me. "Watch out, I'm close".
I suck harder, he grunts and moans low in his throat, I can feel it pulsing up against my palette, and there's a burst of nourishing cum in my mouth. Not a lot of it, admittedly, less than I was bracing myself for. I swallow it, allow a little more courtesy suck-time, then lift my head, using the towel to wipe it clean.
"Thanks boy, you did that nicely" he says in a low husky voice.
"No problem, I enjoyed it" I tell him, not exactly untruthfully.
Again there's a long, embarrassed pause. I take the opportunity of sipping his wine, then gulp it down and pour myself another.