Date: Fri, 26 Mar 1999 01:50:33 GMT
From: Joe Camp <idc90@hotmail.com>
Subject: Motor Home Adventures 11
Motor Home Adventures 11/?
Codes: M/t (mast, oral)
By: idc90@hotmail.com
Warning: The following story is a work of fiction. It
is a fantasy. It never happened, except in the author's
imagination. This story contains sex between teen boys
and a man and a teen. The author does not encourage or
condone sex between adults and children.
If you are underage, or this is illegal where you are, you
already know what your supposed to do. If this kind of story
turns you off, find something else.
Fiction and Real Life: This story is all fiction. The
characters in this story engage in unprotected sex. That's
not real life. The characters are a product of my imagination,
and can't catch anything unless I want them to. Any resemblance
of characters to an actual person is purely coincidental.
The author retains the copyright of this story. Placing this
story on a web site without the authors permission is a violation
of that copyright.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Motor Home Adventurers 11
Searching 8
Author's Note: The e-mail to Ron about an adult bookstore,
was written by a very active gay man in his 70's. It is based
upon a real store-theater, but please don't ask where it is.
We got up and I slid back into the driver's seat as he got himself put
back together. He smiled at me as he got back in the passenger seat. I
pulled back onto the highway, and it wasn't many more miles before he
told me to drop him off. 'Well,' I told myself as I was pulling away from
him, 'maybe I'm learning how to pick up a guy.' I was a few miles down
the road before it dawned on me I hadn't even asked his name.
Hank came by a couple of days after I got back. He drank the
last two beers in the fridge, and asked if I needed him to take me
to the store. I told him I didn't really need to go, unless he wanted
me to go get him some more beer. He said he had enough for now. I
told him about Kevin stripping for me to the old song "The Stripper."
Hank didn't say much, but kept glancing over at me as he watched TV.
I thought I knew what he wanted. I finally said, "Hank, if you want
a blow job, just say so."
"I thought you would never ask!" he responded, as his clothes started
coming off.
Hank folded down the bed and grabbed a sheet, as I got undressed.
His 10 inches were sticking straight out, and the head was a dark
red. He lay on the bed, as I crawled between his legs and licked
the head of his long spear. I licked around the firm blood engorged
ridge, working under it at that sensitive area that makes an upside
down V at the head of his dick. I licked every spot of his head, except
the slit that was oozing pre-cum.
Hank was moaning, "Take it down. Take Big Hank. Suck him. Please
Ron, suck Big Hank for me."
I lapped up the pre-cum, before starting down his long dick. I was only
about half way down, when Hank started moaning, "Oh shit, Ron. 69!
69, Ron! Give me your fucking dick, man. 69!"
I came back off his dick enough to where I still had it in my mouth, but
I could spin around without tearing up my throat. I had hardly gotten
my leg swung over his head before he stretched up and had my dick in
his mouth. His hips were bucking up, trying to fuck more of his dick
into my mouth, as his mouth was bobbing on my dick, taking it farther
and farther down his throat. My nose was in his ball sac and my chin
resting in his pubic bush, as his dick swelled and started shooting. He
was so far down my throat, that I didn't have to do anything. His cum
just went right on down. I tensed as I started delivering my nut juice
to Hank.
As I rested beside Hank, I realized I had no desire to cuddle with him.
I didn't have the need to hug him as I did Kevin. I knew then, that we
could be friends and take care of each others needs, but Hank would never
be my lover. I'm sure Hank felt the same way, as he lay staring off into
space with a satisfied dreamy look on his face. 'Yeah,' I told myself,
'anyone with a warm mouth that will take Big Hank, is all that Hank wants
right now.'
Hank watched a little TV with me, then told me to let him know when I
needed to go anywhere, and he would take me after he got off work. I
thanked him, and it wasn't long after that he left. 'It's OK Hank, we
both know we are just using the other for sex.' I thought to myself.
I checked my e-mail, and answered the latest one from Kevin. I told him
what I had felt about Hank as we had lain beside each other. For gramps72,
I asked John to tell me more about theaters, and what went on at them. I was
just finishing my mail to John, when Kevin pinged me on instant messenger.
>Hi Ron. I LOVE YOU!! That's what I've been trying to tell you. Other
>guys are my friends, not my boyfriends. You are the only boyfriend I've
>got. Or is it man-friend? Neither sounds right for you, but I love you.
>How about Lover? That is what you are to me, baby.
>Yeah, you are my LOVER, Ron. I've got to run. I've got 7 pings.
>Love ya, Bye.
I went to bed alone that night, wishing Kevin was there so I could wrap
my arms around him and hold him close. I couldn't sleep, until I got up
and found the pillow Kevin always used. I buried my nose in his smell, as
I hugged his pillow close. At last, I went to sleep, as I vowed to myself
to never wash that pillow again.
I checked my e-mail about an hour after I had gotten up, the next day.
The one from Kevin was kind of mushy. I read it before opening the one
from gramps72.
"So you want to know about my bookstore I go to. I'm there so often,
I think of it as mine. Well, it's on a wide dirt road, at the end of
which there's a huge dirt parking area and, to the left as you drive in,
a beat-up old one story house with a center entrance. There's a weathered,
almost illegible sign on the front that names the place.
It is pehaps 45 feet wide at the front; maybe 50 or 60 feet deep, going
away from the parking lot. It has a center entrance, screen door always
about to fall off. Inside, it's not very clean.
As you enter, the wall on the left has some racks filled with porn tapes
(both straight and gay), girlie magazines, etc. On the right is a glass
display case with a few dildos and other goodies. At the other end of
the display case there's a cash register, where the person on duty
(both men and women) sit. The videotape players &: rewind machine are
next to them. Straight ahead of you is the door to the unisex bathroom.
You pay your money for the theaters. At the end of the counter, you
turn right, and head for the gay theatre. If, after paying the ticket
seller, you turn around 90 you're facing the straight theater entrance.
Both theatre entrances are covered with black plastic (like in lawn
bags) and hanging there also are floor-to-ceiling ropes of little bells.
So when you walk into or out of the theater, the bells tinkle making
noise. I guess the purpose of this is so the timid can quick put their
dicks back in their pants, in case the intruder is a cop.
Both theaters are unlit; totally dark, except for the glow of a 25"
console color TV. Just in from the glaring Nevada sunlight
(if you go during the day), it takes me about 5 minutes for my eyes to
adjust and my Transition eyeglasses to lighten up to the point that I
can barely make out the furniture and the people on it.
OK, let's go into the straight theater first.
That's the one behind you as you face the cashier in the center
hall-entrance. Your eyes have adjusted; you can make out some
living-room deep-cushioned furniture -- chairs, sofas, loveseats, etc.
against the interior walls of a room about 15' wide and maybe 50' long.
At the end to your right is the TV set. The scene is probably straight,
sometimes lesbian. You've been standing just inside the entrance
waiting for your eyes to adjust; now you see a vacant place to sit down;
let your eyes adjust still a little more.
There's room between furniture pieces for some floor-standing ashtrays,
wastebaskets. Around the room you'll see 3 or 4 boxes of Kleenex on
chairbacks, or in ashtrays, etc. Sometimes there's enough room between
chairs that you can stand, back against the wall, with somone sitting in
the chairs either side of you.
You walk to the back of the room. There's a fire door there. On one
side is a loveseat. On the other, a recliner chair. You go between
them and stand facing the TV. There's someone sitting on either side
of you. Usually jerking off.
You get hot watching the tv, you eyes occasionally darting down to the
guys sitting there. You get hard. You rub your fly. You get harder.
You unzip, loudly enough so people can hear it. The guys glance at you.
You reach in, take out your hard cock, start stroking. A couple of
feet away, a guy's getting a blow job on a couch. You jerk faster. The
guy sitting to your right puts his elbow on the chair arm, raises his
hand up, cupped. You move closer to him. He takes your cock in his
cupped hand, wraps his fingers around it and begins to give you a hand
job. It feels so good; you moan, just loud enough to let him know you
like it. He turns his head, looks up into your eyes. You smile at him.
His head moves to your cock; he takes it into his mouth, and you're in
business.
Most of the time he'll take your cum in his mouth. Half of the time,
he'll swallow. The other half, he'll spit into a waste basket. Most of
the time he'll suck you so clean you can tuck in and leave. If he
doesn't, there's a Kleenex box nearby.
Let's say you didn't find action in the straight theater.
You exit, bells clinking, skirt around the end of the glass
display/cashier area and head for the cardboard sign that's
got "gay" written in with a red marker.
As you enter (bells clinking again), you see there's a setup similar to
the straight side.
First, the vistors. Almost always men. Older crowd during the day.
Younger in the evenings. An old guy makes out better during the day, if
he wants a blowjob or doesn't mind giving one to an older guy. He might
find younger guys at night; they may not be interested in a blowjob from
an older guy; more interested in each other.
Most of the action is giving, getting handjobs and blowjobs. More
frequently than you'd think, there's fucking. I always take a condom
out there. Though I like to get fucked once in a while, I wouldn't want
it there; too many strangers. But I have fucked other guys there; they
show their interest in this kind of action first by lowering their
trousers while sitting and jerking off. Then they'll suck you a bit.
Then they'll stand; bend over. Sometimes they'll ask me if I'd like to
fuck them. Sometimes it'll become a three or four-way, somebody else
rubbing your tits, slapping his ass, jerking him -- and maybe he'll be
sucking somebody else while all this is going on. Sometimes, a couple
of other guys will just watch the two of you fuck, as they jerk off.
And surprisingly, one finds more action in the straight theater than in
the gay one.
Some guys wear regular blue jeans attire. Some will wear short shorts
(you should see some of the spindley legs on some of us older gaffers).
I've seen guys lying totally naked on a couch. I've seen others come
in, strip off their clothes, and they're attired in bra, panties, silk
stockings and they'll get their high heels out of their bag.
One Saturday night I remember, a real live woman came into the straight
theater. She went from man to man, with nothing on, sitting on their laps
and fucking them. I didn't get in on that.
But I've seen women in there a few times. Sometimes it'll be two
lesbians. Sometimes a guy and a girl. Some of these people come to get
off right in the theater; some just to get hot and go home for the
action. I've not seen lesbian action (though I've seen lesbians in
pairs), and a couple of times I've seen a male/female couple sit on a
couch, start feeling each other, and actually get into hetro foreplay
and fucking.
The clientele, mostly older guys, are there for a variety of reasons.
They're married, but not getting it or enjoying it any more with their
wives. Some are married closet bisexuals; get their male action at the
bookstore. Some are gay.
One Sunday a neat looking blond kid, about 25 came in; sat down next to
me on a couch. I wanted his cock. So did everybody in the room. I
moved fast; reached over to his crotch (he was hard), began to rub. He
didn't resist. I opened his pants, took out his cock and started to suck
him. A guy standing behind the couch reached around him, began massaging
his nipples. After a bit, surprise surprise, 25-year-old motioned me to
get up and kneel over him, and he began sucking my cock. A third guy came
over and started giving the 25-year-old a blowjob while he was giving me
one. The guy behind, who'd been rubbing 25-year-old's tits had his cock
out; moved closer; while I was getting sucked, I sucked off the guy behind
the couch. That was one hot session I'll never forget.
I think that's all on the bookstore, Ron. I believe there are many
similar to it around the country, though I'd hope they aren't as run
down as mine. Now go find you own!
Love you,
John"
I read the e-mail over and over, finally printing it out to save. I
saved it to my hard drive just to be safe. In one e-mail, gramps72 had
given me more information then I had been able to find in all my months
of searching.
"It can't be that easy," I told myself, "the cops wouldn't let it stay
open. Maybe in Nevada, but here? In Florida? And what about looks?
John must be better looking then me. He has young guys falling all over
him. If it wasn't for Kevin, I would still be a virgin. The guys have all
been his friends, and just took pity on me, because they wanted Kevin.
Gramps72 must really be in good shape. How would someone like me do, with
a little more belly than I should have? There are too many good looking
guys out there for anyone to be interested in me. Well, there was that
young hitch-hiker the other day. Hell, it wouldn't hurt to look around.
What's the most anyone can do? Tell me, 'no, your to old'?"
I got out the phone book, and looked under Adult Bookstores. "Nope.
Bookstore, Adult? Nope. Theaters? Nope. Video? Again No. Novelties?
Nothing at all. What would it be listed under?" I couldn't find anything.
Sex? Big zero. "HOW DO YOU FIND THEM?????? Damn! Why does it have to
be so hard to just get laid? Maybe Hank knows where one is."
Hank didn't come by until three days later. He showed up at the door,
and before I got the door closed behind him he was dropping his pants.
"I'm horny, Ron. Will you take care of Big Hank for me?"
"Sure, Hank. Let me get a towel for you to sit on, I don't want to get
the couch dirty." I grabbed a towel, and Hank was standing there with
his pants and boxers around his ankles. His 10 inches usually sticks
straight out, but it seemed to be pointing more at the ceiling that day.
'He must really be turn on' I thought to myself. The head was deep
purple, and the skin on his glans looked like it was stretched so tight
it was about to tear. I cupped his nuts as he was spreading the towel,
and he gave a low moan.
"What got you so hot?" I asked.
"We were replacing the light fixtures over at that gym on 2nd Street,
today, and all that swinging cock was almost more then I could take.
OOOOH Yeah, Ron. Lick it man. Most of those guys have some real muscle.
One guy came in, and his arm was as big around as my leg. Suck it, Ron.
Suck on Big Hank harder. Big fat chest muscles, and shoulders like you
wouldn't believe. Wasn't much in the cock department though, Big Hank is
still bigger then any I saw there. OOOOOOOHHH Geeeeeez." His cum was
exploding into my mouth. It hadn't taken much at all to get him off.
"Thanks man, I really needed that. Give me a minute, and I'll take care
of you. We are going to be working there a few days."
'OH?' I thought to myself.
I waited until Hank had gotten me off before asking about a bookstore.
He said he knew where one was out on the highway east of town. We
would go out Sunday.
Continued
Comments: idc90@hotmail.com Flames Happily Ignored :)
Hotmail has been having some problems. If you wrote and
didn't get an answer, I didn't get it. I answer all notes.
Thanks, Joe.