Date: Wed, 2 Aug 2006 14:39:15 -0700 (PDT)
From: Cume Munkey <cum_munkey69@yahoo.com>
Subject: Lapping it up  --- Gay, encounters

I am not gay.

Seriously, maybe bi, but not gay.

But I am a slave to a long, thick cock.

Right you say, not gay, but slave to a cock.^Å Well the
thing is, there are some things you can't control: and
a fantasy for a beautiful penis. I know many would
say, 'beauty is in the eyes of the beholder' or
'beautiful is just a word that cums on the tip of my
tongue.'

Perhaps, but not for me. Just getting some/any dick
means nothing to me. In fact, my thoughts about cocks
is very polarized. I either could care less or if it
is a long, thick beautiful cock, I HAVE to have it. I
know it is only infatuation and I don't really love a
specific body part, but tell that to my libido.

This is why I could never visit a nudist facility.
Public showers have pushed me to the edge of public
humiliation. Sure there are lots of stories that begin
with: "I was taking a shower after an invigorating
work out, when the stud sauntered up next to me.
Instantly the blood was inflating my cock. He
smiled.^Å"

Sounds good in theory, but even many gay men don't
like to have another man's penis point to his lips. He
might dream of it; he might lust for it; and while
masturbating later he may even imagine it, but no one
was to be outed with the tattler hard on or to be the
center of that attention. Maybe some do, but not me.
Especially in public where you are at risk.

As I said, I am not gay, I just lose control in the
presence of a hot, fat cock. I try to keep my 'fetish'
under raps. Exploiting my desires in the privacy of my
apartment.

Isn't the internet wonderful? Guys who live quiet
desperation in public, lust freely over high speed
connections.  I mean you can download a bounty of wang
from alt.binaries.pictures.erotica.oldermen (for some
reason there is quite a few hung daddies posted there)
or using the search capabilities of www.guys4men.com,
wallow in the lust of big tools.

After a couple heavy duty jack off sessions, I can set
the that big dog cock-love on the back burner.

So I am not gay. That is, 99.3 percent of the time.
Every once in a while, I slip up at a urinal and the
man next to me stomps out of the toilet muttering
something about perverts. Unfortunately, or
fortunately if you have had me worship your tool,
there is that .7 percent of time when eyes meet and
soon lips connect to a beautiful cock.

And then there was the time in New Mexico.

I travel for my job as a computer tech. I install my
computer software onto various doctor's office's
computers. It is something that most companies could
do on their own, but for what we charge, they like to
see a face. Not to mention I have found doctors
believe they are Gods. And Gods don't do installation.

I was doing job in a little town near Albuquerque, NM
and staying in the Holiday Inn. It was an easy set up
and (if I found an earlier flight) I was going to be
able to leave a day early, since I did all that was
needed in one day. I ate dinner at the bar over a
couple Gin & Tonics. I was bushed. Not so much from
the job, but the heat in NM in August is brutal.
During the day I had to take a couple quick tips to
the local electronics store and each time I went out
of the air condition into the 100 degrees heat it was
like a sucker punch.

Much to my surprise the waitress announced last call.
It was 11 p.m. and during the week the bar closed
early. I wasn't surprised, it seemed like no one was
staying at the hotel and even less were in the bar.

Walking back to my room I noticed the pool was still
open, or at least the door was open. Probably I should
have obeyed the sign that said closed at 10 p.m., but
I got my suit and took a quick dip, more to cool of
than to exercise. I swam a few laps, then sat on the
shallow steps, resting my head on the edge of the
pool. It was dark in the pool area and I was close to
falling asleep.

I nearly had a heart attack when someone dove into the
pool. Who ever it was, he was a swimmer. Effortlessly
he did four laps. It was like a Zen meditation
watching him seamlessly glide back and forth. After
the forth lap he swam over to me, "Hi, I didn't invade
your privacy did I?"

He stood up in the pool and the water was at thigh
level for him. The guy had a sinewy torso and a Speedo
© swim suit that swimmer wear. Not a bikini, but one
that clung to his thighs, hips and ----- his penis.

His sweet, large penis.

"No, I am just cooling off, in fact I am thinking the
pool is closed," I mumbled, unable to take my focus
off his cock.

As much as I say I am not gay, this guy was or at
least very haughty. He was standing there just to
flaunt his his body before me. I am sure it didn't
matter to him if I was gay or not, he knew I was
focusing on his package. I was trying to burn the
shape into my mind, to recall back in my room as I
jerked off. He -- on the other hand -- was used to
this type of reverence.

He was stretching his arms over his head and lifting
up on his toes. He lost his balance, I took it to be
on purpose, and stepped forward.

"Oops," he said regaining his balance. "I wanted to
burn a few calories then have a night cap."

He then reached into his suit and adjusted his cock. I
felt my mouth gap a little and with out thinking I wet
my upper lip with my tongue. I wanted to kneel at the
altar and worship St. Penis. It was embarrassing, not
because I couldn't stop gawking, but because he was
clearly teasing me.

"Um...you're out of luck," I blurted out, but he was
inches (big, wonderful inches) away from being a very
lucky man. He furrowed his brow, so I explained. "The
bar here closed 20 minutes ago.

"O that is okay, I picked up a growler from Isotopes
Brewing, in fact it is more than I could drink, are
you interested?" He asked, then clearly taunted me by
rolling the waist of his swim suit so I could see the
beginning of his pubic hair. He didn't ask if I was
interested in the beer and what he was offering was a
temptation that fell into that .7 percent.

"Sure, sounds like fun," I was now anxious and stood
up not caring what my semi erection would look like in
this situation.

He held out his hand, "I'm Jack."

I know where we were headed, but wasn't brave enough
to respond with: 'and I'm Horny." I grabbed his hand
and said, "I'm Ben"

We shook. I was glad he didn't make the joke of asking
me if my last name was 'over.' I held the rail and
stepped out of the pool. His hand brushed my ass,
sending me a clear signal of his definition of 'night
cap.'

I grabbed my towel and key. We both did a quick dry,
but were dripping all the way down the hall to his
room. Walking behind him, out of the sight-line of his
cock, was my last chance to break from the enchantment
of his magic wand. This is where it is hard for me to
say I am not gay; I followed him right to his lair.

The lights in the hall were bright compared to the
pool area and hurt at first. Just when my eyes had
adjusted, we were at his door. The lights were dim in
his room and he made no attempt to turn any others on.

Grabbing two cups from the counter he said: "The beer
is on ice in the bathroom sink."

He disappeared around the corner. He was in there for
a bit before I heard the ice shift and he appeared
from the bathroom naked, with the beer and cups.
"Ready?"

I couldn't resist saying what was on my mind. I was
filled with admiration for his cock, in fact I pushed
my suit off to show him how ready I was, displaying my
smaller, but erect cock. But I couldn't ignore the
game. "You're an arrogant cock-ster aren't you?"

"You disapprove?" he said, smirking as  he poured a
cupful of beer, looking at me over the rim as he
sipped it.

I kneeled down before and and licked his shaft, "What
do you think?"

I answered my own question by taking several inches of
his penis in my mouth, sliding my lips over his
circumcised member. He tasted like pre-cum with a hint
of chlorine. I slipped him in and out of my mouth a
couple more times, leaving a trail of saliva. There
was no way I was going to swallow all of this ruler,
but I was definitely going to enjoy every inch.

Sliding my tongue down his thick stick, to his sack, I
followed my lips with my left hand. I continued to
fondle his balls, holding them up so I could lick them
as I jacked his rod with my other hand. I wrapped my
hand around him and he filled my fist. I worked my
grip up and down and gently suckling one testicle,
then the other.

So I could work the whole cock with my mouth, I would
bob down four or five inches, then come up and lick
the cock all the way down to his balls. I played
around with the rotation of this: sometime bobbing
twice, then licking twice; other times one bob to one
lick.

I could hear and feel his breathing. It was even and I
could tell he was used to adoration of  his prick. In
my mind it was a standard to live up to. I wanted to
be the best or one of the best cocksuckers he had
enjoyed and I sensed he WAS enjoying it, regardless of
how much he was used to men worshiping his penis.

I thought it was time to get him close to an orgasm. I
started to focus on bobbing on his head. Three or four
times I would plunge him in and out of my mouth, then
I would pause with him inside my lips and as I slowly
slide up I gently glided my teeth along his shaft.

This is when he started to moan.

I alternated that with five bobs up and down then
slowly sucking him as much as I could as I pulled his
penis out of my mouth, causing a kissing, sucking
sound and friction. He now was wavering in his stance
The tone of his moans was a little more conciliatory,
as he was on the brink of pleasure.

I released his balls and held his hips for leverage as
I performed fellatio on this stud.  Shifting his feet
he tried to move to the bed, but I held him firm. I
might be enamored for his cock and he may controlled
me in that way -- with my lust for his knightly sword,
but I wanted him to know who was head honcho. With the
emphasis on 'head.' I looked up to him, with  eyes
that pleaded for his spunk. His eyes were closed. He
had set the beer on the desk and put his right hand
against the wall for support.

Once I had him in place, I began to slide my hands up
and down his legs. They were prickly. In the darkness
I hadn't realized he was nearly hairless, from doing
the swimmers shaving thing, but it had been a couple
weeks from his last shave.

The prickly caresses was all he could take and my
fingers found sensuous passage up and down his thighs
and gluteus maximus. When he let out a long groan, I
knew he was going to cum.

Opening my lips, closing my eyes, I made a target for
his sperm and continued to work his dick with my fists
around the shaft. He came like he was pushing a desk
up a hill.

"umfph."

"umfph."

"umfph."

With each groan, a wad of sperm jerked on to my face
and lips. His cum was thick and pungent. I licked the
dribble off the tip of his cock and he flinched his
hips back. I tilted my face back so the sperm wouldn't
run off my face.

My eyes remained closed with the cum on my eyelids.
Softly he caressed my face, pushing the sperm off my
eyes and he whispered: "Nice."

An hour ago I was about to crash in my room (and, of
course, not gay), now I was still longing for the
comfort of  bed -- his -- and thinking less about
sleeping. And if things worked out, I wasn't going to
change my travel plans.