Date: Sat, 5 Mar 2005 16:56:59 -0800 (PST)
From: Sin Titulo <sintitulo2@yahoo.com>
Subject: Fly Swatter

	The sound of a mosquito buzzing in my ear woke me up
totally.  The damn things were driving me crazy.  I'd
tried everything from bug spray to those newfangled
emitters that you plugged into the wall outlet for
supposedly 12 hours of protection and blissful sleep.
Nothing had worked as it was supposed to.  I had
bought an old fashioned fly swatter, and now turned on
the light in my bedroom, and reached for the wire
handle on my night stand.  I crawled out from under
the covers, nude, as I like to sleep, and went on a
mosquito hunt.
	The light had sent the bastards scurrying for dark
corners, but I got two before the rest vanished into
thin air.  Their blood bright splaters on my clean
white walls couldn't be helped.  I padded on bare feet
to the toilet and releived myself before returnig to
the bed.  I sat on the edge for a moment, thinking of
things I could do to rid myself of the mosquito
problem.  Nothing came to mind, so I laid back down
and pulled the covers up over me.  I stared at the
ceiling for a minute before turning off the light.  I
started a slow count, and got to four before the whine
of another mosquito assalted my ears.
	"Shit,"  I said, throwing the covers off and sitting
on the edge of the bed.  I turned the light back on
and looked at the clock: 4:02 AM.  I had to be at work
by seven, and it looked like my sleep cycle was kaput.
 I mulled over what I should do, and decided there was
nothing for it but to take my usual run a little
early.  I pulled on my running shorts, and a tshirt,
and found my running shoes under the bed.
	In the Kitchen, I set the coffee pot up so it would
be ready for me when I returned, and slipping my
running key around my neck, locked the door behind me
and hit the street.  Most of the houses on the block
were dark and silent, but the house on the corner had
a light burning in the kitchen, which I identified,
because it was the exact duplicate of my place.  I
jogged in place warming up, and watched the lighted
window.  The couple that lived there were relatively
new to the neighborhood.  I'd heard their names from
my immediate neighbor, but hadn't met either the
husband or wife yet.
	I finished my streching exercizes, and started my run
at a steady clip.  I liked to do three miles out and
three back before work every morning, but I usually
didn't start my run before 5:30.  It timed out
perfectly to give me time for breakfast and a shower
before I had to hit the road to work.  The development
I lived in was adjacent to a large city park, of some
age.  The trees were mature, and the rolling grassy
areas were dotted here and there with thick shrubs
that were seldom tended or trimmed.  I liked running
through the park over the uneven ground, because the
gentle rises and declines in the elevation gave me a
better workout.  The problem being, that now that I
was running a full hour earlier than usual, the park
was still dark.  I had to slow down to avoid running
into trees that would suddenly appear out of the
darkness.
	I'd covered my first two miles, and decided that I
had taken longer than usual because of the dark
conditions, and decided to turn around and head back.
I'd covered about half the distance on the way back,
when I ran past a stand of shrubbery on my right.  I
heard someone groaning in its depths.  I jogged to a
stop a few feet beyond the stand and listened for the
sound.  After a moment, I heard a whispered plea of
sorts, or at least it sounded like that to me.  I took
a few steps closer to the stand, and could hear a
rythmic sound I couldn't place.  The hair on my neck
stood erect, and my adrenalin kicked up a notch.
	"This is a safe neighborhood," I said to myself, and
inched closer to the sounds.  I peered into the
darkness, but was unable to make anything out at all.
I pushed through a wall of leaves, and the sound of my
passage caused the sounds inside the stand to stop
immediately.  I waited motionless for a moment, and
finally the rythmic beating sound continued quietly.
I listened, inching closer.  A streak of light had
appeared in the east, and gradually the world had
grown a little lighter.  I peered into the gloom, and
thought I could make out a man standing there doing
somethng rythmicly with his right hand.
	"Are you OK?"  My voice sounded loud even to my ears.
 The poor fellow in the stand of shrubs, nearly jumped
out of his skin.
	"Goddman it!  You scared the shit out of me."  His
voice was strained, and had an edge of frustration in
it.
	"Sorry, but I thought you might be in trouble or
something."
	"No.  Fuck buddy.  You just caught me chockin'my
chicken."
	"What?"  I stepped closer.
	"Jerkin' off."
	"Oh. . .Oh!"  I realized what the rythmic sound had
been.
	"I come down here every morning and jerk off.  My
wife and I don't see eye to eye about sex.  I'm horny
all the time and she doesn't seem to want sex more
than once a month any more if then."
	"Sorry," I said again.  I backed up a little,
starting to leave him to his little self abuse party.
	"You wouldn't want to help a guy out would you?"  His
voice was almost a hiss.
	"I've never, uh. . .never. . .you know."
	"Nothin' to it bud.  I'll help you out if you want."
	"Gee. . .I don't know.  I'm just out here for a run."
	"Come on.  It won't bite you.  You might like it."
Something sounded a bit exciting about what he was
asking me to do.  I stepped a little closer to where
he stood.  "A little closer.  Take it in your hand."
I stepped close enough that I could feel his body heat
on the skin of my arm.  I reached out and he grabbed
my hand, and the next thing I knew, I was holding the
hard pulsing shaft of another man's cock in my hand.
It sent a thrill through me.  I shuddered and gripped
him tightly.
	"Don't squeeze it to death.  Just jack it for me.
You know how to do that don't you?"  I did.  It was my
only means of relief.  I didn't have a girl friend,
and wasn't actively trying to get one.  I couldn't
bring myself to pay for it, and I hated hanging out in
singles bars since I didn't smoke, and they were
always nearly opaque with tobacco smoke.
	I pulled on his shaft a little, and he stepped closer
to me.  I realized he was entirely nude.  I began to
stroke him a little harder, and he moaned and
whispered that I had a nice touch.  I felt him place a
hand on my shoulder, and put a little downward
pressure on it.  I resisted the pressure, but he
leaned over and whispered in my ear.  "Suck it for me
man.  Let me cum in your mouth."  I leaned away from
him, but he kept a grip on my shoulder, and continued
the downward pressure.  I felt dizzy all of a sudden.
What had I gotten myself into here.
	"I've never even seen another man's hardon much less
touched one before, and you want me to suck it for
you?"
	"Come on.  You'll like it.  Do me, and I'll do you."
He groped my cock and balls through my running shorts.
 I was half hard from the thoughts going through my
head.  His downward pressure continued.  My dizzyness
increased, and I felt myself weakening in my knees.  I
gradually began to sink down into the grass and
leaves.  The smell of his member filled my nostrils,
and I took a deep breath of it.  I could smell old
urine and sweat from his running.  I leaned in to his
body and took another deep drag of his smell.  My cock
was now fully charged with blood.  What was I doing?
	"Open your mouth.  I'm going to fuck your face."  My
head broke into a sweat, and I leaned back on my
heels, and opened my mouth.  The first taste of his
cock head sent a shiver through my frame.  I licked at
the slick goo on the large dark head.  I could now
barely make out in the twilight of the shrubs.
Overhead, when I looked up, I could see a faultless
deep purple-blue sky.   He stepped closer, and then,
his shaft was in my mouth.  He gripped my head on
either side, and whispered:  "That's it baby.  Suck it
for me."  I let my tongue wrap around the glans, and
he pushed further into my mouth.  His large cock head
felt like I'd taken a warm plum in my mouth.  The
slime it was oozing tasted of salt, amonia, and the
stale piss I'd smelled earlier.
	I started sucking softly on the big shaft and head.
He moaned and began to rock his hips gently,
whispering over and over: "That's it.  That's it.
Suck me good."  I closed my eyes, and let it happen.
He gradually became a little more forceful, and once
or twice I gagged on his hardness, but he always
pulled back when this happened, and we continued.
Several minutes passed like this, and I was getting
tired and my jaws were beginning to ache.  I tried to
pull off him but he held my head tightly in his hands.
	"Don't stop now baby.  I'm so close.  So close.  He
started fucking a little harder, and then with a sigh,
I felt his cock spasim in my mouth, and the first gush
of his cum filled every available space in my mouth.
I gulped and tried to swallow.  The stuff seemed to
expand as a second shot flew out of his cock, and it
began to dribble out of the sides of my mouth.  He
shot again, I gulped again, then again, swallowing my
first hot load of fresh semen from the source.  I knew
I was hooked.  My face fucker had found himself a
cocksucker.
	When he finally began to wilt, I let his member slide
from my mouth, and stood up on shaky legs.  He groped
my cock again, and dropping to his knees, he dragged
my shorts down to my ankles, and without  hesitation,
swallowed my rampant dick.  I nearly collapsed from
the sensations his mouth and tongue sent through my
body.  I'd never imagined a blow job could feel that
good.  He moaned, and began bobbing on my shaft, and I
grabbed his head and started to fuck his face as he
had done mine.  I was on a much shorter fuse than he'd
been, and before I could stop myself, I felt my load
filling his mouth.  He made a sound in his throat and
started swallowing hard and fast.  I poured everything
I had into his hungry mouth with unbelievable
pleasure.
	Finished, we rearrainged our clothes, and tried to
calm down enough to make it back to our respective
homes.  When I turned out of the park into my street,
I was surprised to see him follow me.  We reached the
intersection of my block, and I saw him stop in front
of the house on the corner.  I stopped, jogging in
place, and turned to him.  He pointed to the house,
and then to himself.  He didn't speak, because in the
early morning, the sound of voices carried like a
gunshot over water.
	I pointed to my place three houses down.  He gave me
a thumb's up sign, and turned up his driveway.  I
finished my run in my back yard, winding down  over a
five minute period.  My kitchen smelled of good coffee
when I entered.  I grabbed my sweat towel off the peg
I kept it on by the back door, and wiped my face.  I
looked at the towel, and found a slick of cum from the
corners of my mouth.  I stuck out my tongue and tasted
it again.  Definately I was hooked on the stuff.
	I poured myself a mug of coffee, and started a pot of
water boiling for oatmeal.  While I waited, I thought
about what had just happened in the park.  I wondered
at myself and what was obviously a most exotic
reaction from my usual ideas about homosexuality.  I
spooned Stivia over the cerial, and poured a little
soy milk on the steaming greul.  I stirred it in, and
tasted it.  I set my spoon down and took a sip of
coffee.  I stood up and went to my cupboard and got
out my cinnimon shaker.  I doused the cerial with a
couple of shakes, still thinking of the big cock in my
mouth.  I returned the shaker to the cupboard, and was
about to sit down again, when there was a scratching
sound on my back screendoor.
	I flipped the light on in the yard, and the guy from
the park was standing there.  I opened the screen door
and invited him in.  I poured him a cup of my coffee,
and he didn't ask to sit at my table.  I stirred the
cerial, and looked at him.  He was medium height,
ruddy skinned, and needed a shave.  He looked like he
had a constant five o:clock shadow,  His hair was
brown going slightly to gray at the temples.  Neither
of us spoke while we sipped the coffee.  I took a bite
of the oatmeal, but it was still a little hot.
	"My name's  Mitch,"  I offered him my hand.  We
shook.
	"I'm Don.  I just had to stop by to tell you that I
really enjoyed the session we just had in the park."
	"I guess I did too."  I sampled the cerial again, and
swallowed a mouth full.
	"I don't suppose you might want to make it a regular
thing would you?"  He looked at me intently with his
steaming mug held to his lips.
	"I don't usually run that early.  The damn mosquitos
got me out of bed this morning."
	"What about a little later?  I suppose I could change
my schedule.  I'm self employed."
	"Well. . ."I took another bite.  "The park sort of
fills up with joggers and dog walkers during my usual
run time."
	"Fuck.  I need to get off nearly every day.  I hate
jacking my whang like that, but my fuckin'bitch of a
wife won't put out enough for me."
	"So you said."
	"You have any other ideas?  I don't suppose your wife
is as bad as mine."
	"Actually, I'm pretty much in the same boat you
describe, but I'm not married.  I live here alone."
	"No shit?"
	"Not a bit."
	"You think. . ."
	"We could try it to see how it goes."
	"How will we work it?"
	"My alarm goes off at 5:00 AM, and I'm usually in the
park by 5:30 and run three out and back.  I have to be
in the office by seven."
	"My nuts get me up by 4:00 every morning.  I only go
to the park to run so I can jerk off.  The bitch
thinks I'm into health.  What if I came straight here,
and we took care of each other before you go running."
	"We could try it."
	"Tomorrow morning?"
	"Sure."   He drained his coffee, and pushed away from
the table.  He started out the screen door, but
paused, turning to face me with a spoon half way to my
mouth.
	"By the way, that was one fuckin'great blow job.
Where did you learn to suck like that?"
	"No where.  Sucking your cock was a first for me."
	"Jeez.  I'm sorry I came so much then."
	"Don't be.  You showed me something I've been missing
in my life.  I loved every ounce of it.  I can't wait
for tomorrow morning."
	"I'll be on time."
	"You better be, because I just might come and get you
if you're not."
	"See you then cocksucker."  He slipped out the door,
and let the screen bang closed, sending a cloud of
mosquitos into the morning air.  I reached for the
second fly swatter I kept in the kitchen, and after
taking another bite of cerial, I stood and began
stalking the blood sucking bastards.

email:  sintitulo2@yahoo.com