The Traveler on Grindr

This is a completely fictional story.

The Traveler on Grindr Ch 1: Arrive Two Hours Early

If you name you child Flower, you can't really have high hopes you are setting her up for great achievements. You're basically telling her from day one to float about and see what the universe provides, smoke herbs and look for auras. I think that is what she was doing that afternoon when I was furiously texting her to get her ass to the airport, where I had already been waiting at the check-in area for an hour.

"Leaving the house soon, just saying goodbye to all my plants and looking for my passport!" she texts.

Right. This is my best friend. Flower Dubois. I've met her parents, sweet people, I would accuse them of treacherous parenting though. Two hours before take-off and she is still in Cincinnati, not even Cincinnati, she is in Mt. Carmel a full 35 minutes away from the airport in Kentucky. If she misses this flight I will absolutely come right back and -- no -- I am not a violent man. I've made it 38 years on this earth promoting loving and kindness, not Flower's dopy kindness, my kindness, like, watching documentaries about important stuff, I don't like to brag.

I finally gave up because I was not going to stress myself into an early grave over this woman's reckless travel habits. This trip was two years in the making, I have been saving and scrimping like a crazy person, turning down nights out and dinners just so I could stay on budget, travel like a king, sleep like a royal and hopefully, if the stars align, meet Mr. Chile and have him plow me a new one. Yessss! I was going to CHILE, BTICHES! Wine, wide vistas, that super dry desert that I was not going to, great food, this was going to be awesome!

I texted her back, "You are a menace! Get the fuck here. Can't wait anymore, will shit my pants. Checking in, meet you at the lounge."

I checked in and sailed through security because I was prepared. Flip flops for shoes (I had actual shoes in my carry-on, I am not an animal), a plastic belt, no coat, no underwear in case I had to do the thing where you raise your hands and those perverts at TSA can see your junk like they were spying on you at the old-timey adult video arcades, and a clear plastic bag with emergency toiletries. Boom! That is expert traveling.

At the lounge I saw I still had 110 minutes until the flight would take off, maybe 80 minutes before it would board. Like any self-respecting man in 2023, I ordered an Aperol Spritz, walked over to a less busy part of the business class lounge and opened up Grindr. I mean, what is not to love about an app whose chief purpose is to get you laid? Yes, everyone is headless, yes, tons of catfishing, but I think of it as a game. Hide and seek, find the fraud, if you fall in love with the profile, you're fucked. They will own you in ten minutes and before you know it, you thought Ryan Reynolds had finally come to the light side but instead, your ass is being plowed by an obese married accountant from Toledo in the back of his sub-compact rental. Or worse, true story, your cock is balls deep inside your old high school American Civics teacher and he does not care for douching, which he tells you during the deed.

Take your time, Grindr is just as good and just as bad as the gay men and closeted men and bicurious men and demisexual men and transexual men make it, on its own it is just a big giant darkened room. In my view, Grindr delivers if you put in the work, that's my philosophy.

So, I opened Grindr and saw a new grid of men pop in, there had to be at least twenty at or very near the airport. Three were within fifty feet of me. Now, you may think I am a tight-laced control freak because I arrived three hours early and am a little judgy about Flower's parents, but I do have my freaky side and it loves public restrooms. I tried to have talks with that freaky side, explain why prison is bad, but he made some really compelling points and we've come to an understanding -- we will fuck in bathrooms every chance we get.

As I was perusing the menu, I got my first message. SUKKYSUKKY_NOW wrote me, "Up for some NSA oral? You will never forget my work."

That sounded oddly ominous but I really was in the mood to get fucked. Out of curiosity I opened the profile, the main picture was of a person on a kayak like three thousand feet away. Can't fuck rivers, buddy, thanks for the pic. Inside, the profile included a few shirtless pics and some underwear photos too. He was definitely older, mid to late sixties, but all the age was on his face. His body looked terrific, especially the giant salami he was pretending was his dick. If it was real, it was worth exploring but he wanted oral. I was proud of myself for not being ageist, that was very decent of me, I think. But I was definitely roleist, and that day I wanted to travel loaded and dilated.

"Looking for a top today, sorry."

"Ok, have fun. Good luck!"

Ooooh, how sweet! See, not everyone on Grindr is repulsive. Normal, nice people there too. Speaking of which, my next message was from HUNGHUNKATL. That was promising.

He wrote, "Hey there RESTROOMDILF, how are you today?"

"I'm great, just checked in, waiting now. Where are you?"

He writes back, "In the Delta lounge, same as you."

"You can see me? Show me you, Hung Hunk."

"Sit in front of me, I got your live feed ready."

I looked around, one young man was staring right at me, then he winked. I think the gays should claim the wink as a symbol of our culture. It would be global and universal for 'Let's fuck now.' Imagine how much sex this could generate!

In this case, it could actually mean that so I grabbed my drink and walked my bag over to the wall directly in front of HUNGHUNKATL and I sat down, maybe ten feet from him.

"What's your name?" I texted.

"Liam," he wrote. "What's yours?"

"Pedro. So what where you going to show me?"

"Look up."

I did look up. In a sneaky move that no one around noticed, cause why would they, he pulled the inseam of his expensive looking, white adidas training shorts away from his leg. This gave me a straight shot view of his cock and balls, they were fucking huge. I couldn't possibly measure from that angle but some cocks, even flaccid, just tell you that they know how to get the job done. His cockhead alone, which was most of what I could see, looked as big as a walnut only half covered by his foreskin, and it was not yet pumped full of blood and adrenaline. He was a tall, athletic man. If he told me he played tennis or swam, I would think that made perfect sense. His leg and arm hairs were sun bleached and his calves were thick and plump with muscle. His complexion was fair, hair was a light brown, he wore a St. Paul Saints hat that covered most of his head so it was hard to tell if he wore it long, it would suit him if he did. His eyes were playful, hazel, they made him look youthful, happy. He wore a wedding ring which I could see as he held his phone in front of his chest to talk to me on the application.

I sent him my R rated photo album. It features me in the typical poses, sitting on a giant lounge chair, soft cock leisurely laying on my thigh, heavy balls on the upholstered cushion between my legs, holding a glass of whiskey. Then there is the shower photo which I made Flower take, hard, impressive at 8 inches, but a little fogged over for mystery. And of course, I had the facedown fuck me pose where I just happen to be nude, laying on my belly, my ass slightly raised, my ankles crossed behind me, my barely furry cheeks begging to be opened, tongued and deep dicked. Standard Grindr.

He sent back his album. It was the X rated photo album. He had one shot of him soft, sitting on the ground outside somewhere, his head and body both leaning back to capture the late morning sun, it was actually kind of cool, made you want to have a picnic with him. Then there was the mirror selfie of him, standing in a locker room, hard as nails, a cock bigger and fatter than mine extended straight out in front of him. Slut, I thought. In a public locker room? At least I have the decency to go into the bathroom stall, usually. The final two pictures were of him fucking a black man and a white man. He was white or Latino, it was hard to tell, but his cock contrasted really well with both asses and while the black guy was on all fours and all you saw was cock entering a hole, the white guy was on his back, his legs in the air, only the tip of HUNGHUNGATL was inside his hole and Liam was using the guy's cock as a joystick. I love tops that grab your cock when they're fucking you, it's there for a reason, hold on to it.

"Fuck, those are some picks! In a gym locker room? Hard? You are a brazen," I wrote.

"Nah, my buddy owns the gym, asked me to do it and post it on Twitter. You can see the name of the gym if you look at something other than my dick, up above."

"So you are a paid whore?"

"Today, I am giving out free samples."

I was hooked and I knew he was not catfishing me because I could see him and his cock. He was stunning. A great looking, tanned, 6'2" by my estimation, athletic, fit young man and I do not pass up these opportunities.

"Meet me in the family restroom in three minutes. I will unlock the door when you tell me you are standing up to go inside."

"Deal. Looking forward to wrecking that hole."

See? Grindr can help you find meaningful relationships.

I walked over to the large family restroom and was relieved it was open. I entered, locked the door and stripped naked. I was still very happy with what I saw in the mirror. I was no Hugh Jackman, but I was fit, toned, a semblance of a six pack was still there. I had a dusting of hair in the places I liked, like my pubes, my pits, a little on my chest, the manly places. I had most of my hair and it framed my face well, I didn't like the idea of covering up the few greys I was getting around my temples, I thought they made me look dignified -- sorry, not sorry, ladies -- and I had always liked the round shape of my eyes, a little deep set, a dark green, bordering on hazel. My family was from Spain and my skin was never completely pale, all in all, I thought I offered some good shit.

A message notification pulled me out of my love affair with the mirror, it was Liam. "OMW!"

Yay! I stood up, unlocked the door and decided to be sexy. How awesome would it be to walk into a public restroom, and you find this gorgeous peach all opened up and compliant and begging for your fat pud to wreck it into oblivion? Very awesome! So, I put down the toilet seat cover and managed to crawl on top, kneeling in a doggy position, my ass pointed straight at the door. I heard it open and heard the door lock. A message pinged my phone but I was having none of it now, I was about to get railed.

"That's a nice ass, son," the voice behind me spoke in a tone and with so much gravel it could not possibly have been 20-something Liam. I turned my head to find a much older man, in his late sixties, pulling down his pants. I shrieked, loudly.

The old man said, "Shut the fuck up, people will hear."

"Who the fuck -- SUKKYSUKKY -- you snuck in here, fucker. Get out! This is not happening. I'm sorry, I am sure you are nice, and I am sure you are sweet, but there is no fucking --" I whisper yelled and then had my words cut mid thought.

As I had been speaking, he had dropped his pants to the floor and out plopped a mammoth cock, easily my full length and far more than my girth, but soft! He raised one hand and said, "Hold on, why don't you take a look at this, let's get it going and if you want me to leave, once you've seen it, I will leave."

"Fuck!" I whispered.

Just then, I heard a knock at the door. I thought it might be Liam but a woman's voice called out, "Are you ok, ma'am? Do you need assistance?"

Ma'am? My manly cry for help was clearly filtered by the door so that only the higher pitch frequencies made it through. "No, I just thought I saw something move, it was just a piece of paper. Sorry!" I said, in a slightly high-pitched voice.

"I'm Harold," he whispered, grabbing his cock and slapping it against both hips. It looked like a baby elephant trunk. I had never seen a thing this large and stayed there, open mouthed, drawn into its gravitational pull.

"Pedro, nice to -- how big does it get?"

"You won't be able to take it all. It's 13 inches long and 9 inches round when hard," he replied. Challenge accepted was all I could think, but I wanted to see it hard.

"Let me see," I dared him.

"Sure, that's the deal. If you don't like what you see you can call twig and berries out there," he replied, slowly stroking his well-fed python. "Turn around and show me that hole, that will help."

Obediently, one obeys a fat dick and one respects one's elders, here we had two good deeds all in one, I leaned over the toilet again, this time staying on my feet, spread my legs wide and pulled my ass apart with both hands.

"That's pretty, Pedro. Very pretty, you mind if I eat your ass?"

Do you mind if I give you a thousand dollars? There are stupid questions.

"Go ahead, if you're going to fuck me, it will help."

Harold quickly moved behind me, he had yet to take his pants off so it was more of a waddle. He dropped his cock to the sound of kerplop and used his own hands to spread me open. I was able to put my head on top of the toilet seat and steady myself with my arms.

What followed was a masterclass in ass rimming. I cannot stress this enough, as I remember it my ass wants to play detective and go find this man. This was not someone who was wondering if it might feel good, worried if it might taste weird, concerned about hygiene or in any other way constrained. This was a man who loved assholes and wanted only to make love to the one in front of him.

He began by lavishing long strokes of his tongue from my taint upwards, like a cow savoring a salt lick. Each stroke had a tiny pause, an almost imperceptible quick thrust of pressure right over my tiny pucker. I started to moan, it felt so fucking perfect.

"You like that you little whore? You can't wait for my cock to punch your fucking guts from the inside?" he asked.

All I could answer was, "Hmmmmm, fuck that's good."

After sumptuously licking my entire trench up and down, Harold began to twirl his tongue in small circles around my tight pink hole. His tongue switched speeds, twirled, dove and was driving me fucking insane!

"Shit, Harold, you are a fucking master ass sucker!" I cried, trying to control my volume so I would not be heard or found out.

"Do you think twigs and berries would know how to eat your ass like this? Do you think he knows what kind of a bottom slut you are?" Harold asked me. While he spoke, he was pushing around my hole with this thumb so it would never feel abandoned. As soon as he stopped talking he went back to tonguing me like the lead singer from that band with the huge tongue. From time to time, he would switch up again and do a full sweep, flogging my hole with the full weight and thickness of his extraordinarily long and strong flapper. He would quickly switch back to softening and dilating my ring by applying pressure, at times with his finger, at times with his tongue.

"So fucking good, you got me leaking," I whimpered.

Harold then grabbed a hold of my cock between my legs and pulled it up towards him as far as it would go. I could feel him stretching out his tongue and licking the slit, the head, sucking on the cock smile so he could pull and lap up every drop of precum I was making. He was aggressive, hungry.

"You taste like oranges," he said, kissing my cock, returning it to where he found it and refocusing his attention on my needy hole. That was perceptive, I had had a glass of freshly squeezed juice that morning before heading out to the airport. Harlod might have been the world's first Semen Sommelier!

"Fuck, that is some amazing oral, Harold, you should fucking advertise," I groaned. I was in absolute bliss.

"Young kids always want younger, do you think a twenty year old knows how to do this?" again, as he was speaking, his wet thumb continued to push gently into my cunt. By then, I was ready and it could have gone in easily but it was almost as Harold wanted to edge my hole, taking his time working into it. So far, it had been a phenomenal rim job, but the next bit is what made it legendary. As soon as he finished speaking, he pointed his tongue, aimed it directly at my little tiny pussy and he pushed hard, as if he was trying to break into my guts. On the third attempt, he pushed harder than before, stiffened his tongue and successfully pushed through the ring! I had at least two, maybe three inches of fat, slithering tongue inside my asshole!

I was not completely in control at that point, the sensory overload was extreme and I let out what can probably best be described as a neigh, neither whimper nor groan, just shock and pleasure. As I felt him exploring the inside of my rectum I practically screamed from the pleasure, "Fucking hell! Aaah -- ahh -- shit -- you're fucking inside --- fucking -- what the fuck!" I can't really vouch for my volume at the time, but I promise I was trying to be discrete while some guy was licking my insides and fucking me with a cow tongue.

Harlod pulled out, "Feel good, Jr? Still want to call in Justin Timberlake out there?"

Even in my rhapsodic state, I could not let that stand, "Hmmmm -- different generation -- fuck -- maybe more Shawn Mendes --- shit no, no, I want you to fuck me again like that!"

Harlod went back down to the tip of my dick, he kissed it lovingly and again milked out all the pre-spunk he could gather. Then he took his tongue and licked from the frenulum, up to my testicles which he wrestled with his tongue, drawing moans and squeals from someone who looked like me but apparently squeals like a girl. I honestly did not think, at my age, I could still be so thoroughly surprised in sex. Harold continued up the taint, nibbling at times on the sensitive line and skin between my scrotum and anus, and finally made his way back to my waiting hole.

A this point, I was practically delirious. Harold grabbed both of my hips and pulled me hard towards his face, at the same time, pushing forcefully with his neck and stiffening his tongue as much as he could. He punched through my sphincter again and was in several inches. All I can remember was cursing and moaning and trying to grind my entire ass into the old man's face.

"Holy shit! Harold! Fucking holy shit! That is amazing! Never in my life!" I babbled.

This only encouraged Harold who gripped and clawed my hips tighter and drove himself in further, twirling and twisting his tongue deep inside my meat tunnel.

I desperately wanted to cum and moved my hand to my cock. Harold slapped it away and grabbed a fistful of hair, yanking my head back as if applying discipline.

"I need to cum, Harold, I am about to blow my fucking load!"

Harold slapped my face, hard. If he had said, "Down, bitch," it would have had the same effect. He continued to twist and dig deep into me, his hand moving back to my balls and cock, jerking me slowly until I think he too felt the point of no return. I could certainly feel my balls tightening and my breathing become shallow.

In one quick move, Harold pulled away from me, turned me around like a rag doll, so that I was sitting on the toilet, and plunged my eight inches deep into his own throat. It felt fucking awesome and I was about to howl when I felt the old man's hand covering my mouth and I tried to remember where I was. I tried to demonstrate restraint but I knew this would be a colossal load. Harold shoved two fat fingers into my loosened hole and tapped directly into my prostate. I was shivering and trembling, trying to stand but I couldn't with Harold on my cock. I had minimal stability in my legs at that moment and the old fucker wouldn't budge. I was trapped, feeling waves of stimulation from the tip of my dick, to the depths of my rectum, to my stretched out fucking pucker, to the intense, delirious pressure on my joy button. It all built as I again attempted to scream, silenced only by my own underwear being shoved deep into my craw and a muscular, heavy hand covering over that. I felt myself finally releasing, a seemingly endless orgasm that was going into Harold's throat, then his mouth as the old man pulled out slightly so he could take some of the ejaculate over his taste buds and savor it. He was pulling the semen in his mouth with my cock still inside, swishing it and moving it about like one might a fine wine. Except Harold did not spit it out. He nursed and suckled on my cock until there was nothing left to lick, suck out or savor.