Date: Mon, 16 Jul 2001 20:58:00 -0700 (PDT)
From: Billy Jay Dee
Subject: USC Nights -- Part III

Based on the true experience of a married bisexual man

By Billy Jay Dee

E-mail to my friend, Jay:

Life is hard here on the campus. Last night I had a
date with John, the 6'4" 320-pound president of the
local bear club. We were supposed to meet last
Wednesday. He cancelled. I didn't wait the extra 35
minutes last night and he cancelled again tonight.

So, I hit the door, hopped the first bus and went
"downtown". If my wife asks, it's to eat at the
"Pantry," a historic greasy spoon that operates on a
cash-only basis and you have to wait in line. They
served a lot of food (it tastes like it) but that was
good because I was actually hungry for the first time
since getting to this hot land. Then, of course, I
jumped the subway for the Faultline.

A Tuesday night. I didn't expect much. There were no
more than two dozen guys in the place. The bad news
was most of them were really interested in their pool
tournament. I made the rounds. Some twinks sat at the
bar being loud. Several guys sat apart in the dark
recesses of the joint, making it hard to strike up a
conversation.

Three guys also sat separately at the bar, all too
short for my taste. One guy played pinball. I tried to
strike up conversations with some of the bigger
gentleman and finally talked off and on with a big
Mexican. I won't say he was particularly short on
brains, but he sure had a hard time figuring out how
to light his cigarette. He didn't seem particularly
gay, either.

 I looked up from a rather forced attempt at
conversation and found the pinball man had stepped
away from the machine. He was fifty, maybe. A grecian
beard, solid frame and hairy arms.

As he spoke to a regular from the darkened corners, I
chatted offhandedly with the slow Mexican. Pinball Man
and I smiled at one another. I excused myself and
found a stool closer to him; he wandered closer to me.
He was charming with the sweetest smile and the bluest
eyes.

He introduced himself as Scott. Sparks flew. On the
way to my hotel room, Scott and I discussed the
details of our evening. Once in the room, I found the
phone blinking. He hit
the head while I checked to see if it was a message
from my wife. It was a message from my date, who had
shown up late. Too bad he missed a fun evening.

Scott kissed me passionately when he returned from the
bathroom. I managed to pull
the golf shirt off his chest. This revealed the small
hairy rounded belly and equally as rounded and hairy
biceps. He finished unbuttoning my royal blue dress
shirt while his small pink tongue and the soft
bristles of his moustache tickled my nipples. He tried
to pull my shirt off, but those damn buttoned cuffs...

"We can dispense with this stuff," he suggested.

While I finished stripping, he stripped the bed. I
sprawled out across the queen-sized mattress to reveal
the "lovemaking aids" in the bedstand. I rose up in
his arms. He rolled me back into bed on my back. We
rolled and kissed, made out and reached for one
another's dicks.

He had a smooth slightly curving eight-incher, not too
thick. He softly rubbed his hairy body up and down my
smooth, nearly hairless torso. My crotch surged with
electrical response. I raised my head to suck his cock
and he crawled over me to give me more of it.
Eventually he worked his way down and ended kneeling
between my knees. He reached for some KY, and stroked
himself while working over my flaccid six-incher with
the velvety lotion.

"Here," he said with a smile. (Did I tell you he
smiled a lot?) "Unroll the condom."

He slipped the rubber on his big-headed erection and
hefted my knees. As he pressed
the slippery helmet against my puckered ass, he said:
"We'll just let it rest there for a while."

Then his pinkish lips surrounded by his bearded chin
met mine again and we kissed with exploring tongues. I
ached for it, for that fat hard cock to slide into my
sweaty love tunnel. And when my rolling ass made it
far too clear of my need, Scottie obliged. He fucked
me carefully and for a long time. Even when I
encouraged him to bang my ass, he still took the deep
strokes with care. He was a consummate fucker,
pulling his prick slowly out and then rotating his ass
on the downstroke so that the fat head grazed my
prostate in agonizing slow motion.

"One more thing we could do."

He grabbed the top side of my thighs, holding my
bottom tight to his hard cock and began scooting on
his knees to the side of the bed. I tried to help move
my sloppy bottom around, but basically he dragged me
to the edge of the bed like a bitch dog connected to a
love knot. He got his feet to the ground.

Lifting my feet in the air, he really began banging
me, until the enthusiasm overwhelmed him. His slippery
cock popped all the way out on a back stroke and he
cursed to himself as he stumbled against the wall. He
excused himself. Returning from a quick trip to the
bathroom, he straddled me and suggested we jerk off
since he had to remove the condom to piss. As he moved
over me, he scooted closer to my face, one knee on the
bed, the over leg spanning my belly. The excitement
was getting to me. I grabbed my throbbing, aching
pecker and stroked it rapidly.

"Ohhhh, ah, cumming," I sputtered and let loose a
simple wad that flowed down over my cock onto my
balls. The sight and sound of my orgasm apparently got
to him. He tensed, squeezing with his thumb and
forefinger in back of his swollen, purple cockhead.
"Yeah, now, ohhhh." He went into a loud, grunting
spasm and he blew his load in several sharp spurts
onto my chest and belly.

Scott collapsed beside me, apologizing for the noise
he'd had to stifle. "Operatically trained, you know.
Can't let loose or we'd wake up the whole hotel."

Have to head for class now. Hope you enjoyed this
brief account. It got me hard again. Hahahahaha.

Love,
Billy