THURSDAY
It was one that afternoon during the first week of June. I left my home in Panama City, Florida, in my recently restored blue with blue interior 1965 Chevrolet Impala. I'm taking a ten-day vacation. The first part of my trip was to visit the location where Bonnie and Clyde were shot south of Gibsland, Louisiana. After seeing that spot. I visited the Bonnie and Clyde Museum in Gibsland.
I left Gibsland and drove to Jackson, Mississippi, where I decided to spend the night. While driving to a Motel 6, I passed by the Pleasure Rooms adult bookstore within walking distance from the Motel 6. I got a room and then went to the Denny's restaurant not far from the motel.
After dinner at Denny's, I returned to my Motel 6 room. I relaxed in my room watching TV, and I couldn't stop thinking about the Pleasure Rooms bookstore. It's been ten years since I visited an adult bookstore in Florida. During those visits, I would jerk off to straight and gay porn. I was too nervous about allowing a stranger to suck my cock. But tonight, I had this desire that began to take over. I was horny since I've had minimal sex during the past year.
It was eleven that night. I left my motel room and walked down to the Pleasure Rooms bookstore. I opened the door to the bookstore, and my heart raced. I was nervous. I had to do this.
I entered the bookstore. I noticed an older skinny man behind the counter. There were three guys at the magazine racks checking out the porn mags.
I walked over to the counter. A middle-aged guy glancing at a gay magazine was checking me out. I bought some tokens and headed off to the door leading to the video booths.
I found a booth. I turned around, glancing down the dimly lit hall. Nobody followed. Rats. I went inside the booth leaving the door cracked open. I deposited the token in the video machine and selected a gay movie. I sat on the two-person wooden bench seat. The movie immediately started with a guy on his knees sucking another guy's cock. I rubbed the crotch of my shorts.
A minute passed. The door to the video booth opened. "Can I come in," a voice softly asked. I glanced at the door and noticed that guy checking out that gay magazine at the door. I motioned for him to come inside.
He stepped inside and closed and locked the door. He sat down on the bench to the left of me. We sat quietly for a few seconds. 'Should I suck his cock, or should he suck my cock," I pondered in my thoughts. I was nervous.
The guy placed his right hand on my thigh. It slowly moved to the crotch of my shorts. He fondled my shorts, making my cock hard.
"Want a blow job?" he asked.
"Sure," I replied.
The guy got up and dropped to his knees in front of me. He undid my shorts, lowering them down to my sneakers. He lowered my boxer briefs down to my sneakers. He held my hard cock in his hand. He ran the tip of his tongue up and down the hard shaft.
He ran the tip of his tongue around the head of my cock. The head of my cock went inside his warm mouth. I miss the feeling of my cock in a warm mouth. He went down, and his nose was buried in my pubic hair.
I glanced down, watching his head bob up and down on my cock. I closed my eyes, pretending that was me sucking on a cock. I softly moaned.
Three minutes passed. "I'm ready to cum," I warned the guy.
He removed his mouth off my cock, stroking the shaft with his right hand. "Cum in my mouth," he said, putting my cock back in his mouth. He sucked on the head of my cock while he stroked the shaft.
"Yes, yes, yes," I moaned when he created a tight seal around the head of my cock and stroked the shaft. I felt it brewing in my balls. "I'm cumming!" I cried out. He kept his mouth on my cock. "Ahhh," I grunted and let my cock spurt globs of warm cum into this stranger's mouth. He kept stroking my shaft.
My cock was done filling his mouth with cum. He took his mouth off my cock and swallowed.
"Thank you," he said, getting up and leaving the booth.
I pulled up my boxer briefs and shorts and left the booth. I got into the dimly lit hall, noticing that guy going into another booth. "He sure loves cum," I thought. "Maybe I should try one day," I also thought.
I left the bookstore and headed back to the Motel 6. I went inside my room and went to bed. I couldn't believe a guy sucked my cock. I was so turned on.
FRIDAY
I woke up at nine in the morning. After shaving and showering, I packed my suitcase and checked out. After an excellent breakfast at Denny's, I headed north.
It was eleven-thirty, and I headed north of Jackson on a two-lane country road. There were scattered farm houses.
Steam suddenly poured out of the front hood of my Impala. I noticed the temperature gauge was indicating hot. "This isn't good," I said, pulling my Impala over to the side of the road. I turned off the engine.
I got out, noticing I had parked by a farm house. I closed the door and walked up the gravel driveway.
I walked by a mailbox with "Graywell" lettering.
I walked through the yard to the two-story white farm house with a large covered front porch. I walked up the steps to the porch and front door. The house's front door was open, but a wooden screen door was closed. I noticed four wooden rocking chairs on the porch.
I knocked on the frame of the screen door.
"I'll be there in a minute," a female with a southern twang called out from inside the house.
I noticed a woman around my age with a black Curly Bob hairstyle parted on her left side wearing a light blue sundress and barefooted walk through the living room.
She got to the screen door. "Well, I didn't order a handsome blonde man through Amazon; what are you selling?" she asked.
"I'm not selling anything. My car broke down," I said, pointing to the road. "I need the phone number from a local garage," I added.
The woman opened the screen door and stepped out to the porch. I saw her soft brown eyes. I glanced at her bare feet, noticing they were well manicured. I glanced at the chest, noticing her erect nipples poking through the thin material of her sundress.
"Is that your sixty-five Impala?" she asked, glancing at the road.
"It is. You know something about classic cars."
"I do. My husband Brett owns a garage in town. I'll give him a call," she said, then went back inside.
She walked back to the screen door. "My husband will be here in fifteen minutes. Would you like some lemonade?"
"I would love some," I replied.
"Have a seat in one of the rockers. I'll be right back," she said. She walked through the living room.
She returned to the porch a few seconds later with two glasses of cold lemonade. "Here you go, sweetie," she said, handing me a drink.
"Thank you," I said, taking the glass.
"My name is Cristie," she said, sitting in the rocker beside me.
I glanced at Cristie noticing her blue eyes. "I'm Gary," I said.
"Glad to meet you, Gary. So, what brings you to our neck of the woods," she asked.
"I drove from Panama City, Florida, to Memphis when my car broke down."
"Is Memphis your home?"
"No, I live in Panama City. I'm on vacation with one of my stops being Graceland in Memphis."
"Oh, Graceland. I would love to visit it, but Brett hates Elvis. So he won't take me."
"That's too bad," I replied.
"Maybe one day," Cristie said.
"What do you do in Panama City?"
"I'm a civil servant at Tyndall Air Force Base. I retired from the Air Force two years ago after a twenty-year career. I decided to live in that area."
"Are you married?"
"No, I got divorced eight years ago. I don't have a girlfriend at the moment."
"Too bad I would be dating you if I wasn't married," Cristie said and winked at me.
It took a few seconds to dawn on me that she was flirting. I like it!
"I'm a first-grade school teacher, so I'm off for the summer," Cristie said.
"That's cool," I replied.
We talked for fifteen minutes. I noticed a tow truck drive down the road off to the right. It pulled into the driveway and then backed up to my Impala.
"Brett's here," Cristie said and got up from her rocker.
I got up and followed her through the front yard.
We got to the tow truck, and Brett was checking out my Impala. 'Nice sixty-five," Brett said, walking over to me.
Brett has short brown hair and blue eyes, and I found him attractive. If I were a woman, I would fuck him,
"Brett, this is Gary," Cristie introduced us.
We shook hands.
"What's wrong with her?" he asked, walking over to me.
"Steam poured out from the front hood, and the temperature gauge needle was on the hot side," I replied.
"Probably the water pump. I'll have to tow her into my shop to make sure," he said.
"Okay," I replied.
"You can ride with me in the tow truck," Brett offered.
"Brett, I'll drive him to the garage. I need to get some groceries at the Piggly Wiggly, anyway," Cristie offered. "I'll bring him to the garage after I shop at the Piggly Wiggly."
"Sure," Brett said.
I handed Brett my car keys. He shoved them in his shirt pocket.
Cristie and I walked back to the farm house while Brett hooked up my Impala to the tow truck.
Cristie walked me to the rear of the house, where there was a barn.
We went inside the barn, and I noticed a restored 1976 Chevy pickup. Off to the side of the barn was a 1957 Chevy pickup being restored.
Cristie and I got in her pickup. She backed out of the barn and drove down the gravel driveway.
She drove down the driveway and turned right. Brett was finishing hooking up my Impala.
Cristie drove the pickup down the road.
Five minutes passed, and she drove into the town of Woodbine. It appeared to be a small quaint town.
"Listen, if anybody asked while we're in the Piggly Wiggly, you're my new boyfriend," she said.
I glanced over at her in disbelief at what she said. "Are you serious?"
"I am," she said. She chuckled. "I'm just kidding," she said and giggled.
We passed by the "Graywell Garage" off to the right. I noticed two modern gas pumps out front to service four cars, two bays, and an office to the right.
Cristie turned left; it wasn't long before she turned right into the Piggly Wiggly parking lot.
She parked, and we went inside the grocery store.