God I hate weirdos.
Long-haired weirdos, fast-talking weirdos, salesperson weirdos, gay weirdos. I hate weirdos.
I know, I know, to each his own. But I like good old fashioned values. Mom, apple pie, Old Glory and, as we used to say in the Army, the girl you left behind.
Well, I have to admit, in the spirit of full disclosure, that I have a few vices. There’s the occasional belt of straight up Jim Beam, there’s a penchant for fast cars which like to exceed the speed limit, and shaving a few strokes off my golf score. Oh, another vice came to the front by accident, when I attended a bachelor party which started at a strip club, moved over to an adult boutique, and then back to the club for a few lap dances.
So what, you say? No real harm there, right?
Probably not. Still, the latter trip to the world of exotic dancing and peep shows wet my appetite, and on a business trip to Philadelphia I found myself drawn, like metal to a magnet, to the flashing neon lights of an adult bookstore on Market Street.
Now I have to tell you that I’ve had a fairly normal sex life, at least to my knowledge. I like making love to a woman, caressing a soft body, hearing a woman moan to my ministrations. Of the dozens of positions explained in the Kama Sutra, though, I still liked missionary the best, although I have never tossed a young lady out of bed if she wanted to be on top or do the deed doggie or side-by-side. What can I say, missionary is my favorite, and I am not ashamed to admit it.
While I may not have the most active sex life, it is fulfilling. I’d like it to be more frequent, but, I can’t complain.
Still, when looking out the hotel window, that adult bookstore beckoned and I found myself casually walking over to it late one Tuesday night. My work was done after a productive business dinner, and I was catching the morning Metroliner back to the Big Apple.
As I approached the store I noticed a couple guys leaving, and since they looked “normal” I felt a boost of confidence, as if I wouldn’t be, well, a weirdo, for entering. Armed with that evidence I opened the door and stepped inside. There were magazines, videos, lingerie, adult toys, you name it. But what drew my attention was the wall filled with movie boxes depicting the clips being showed in the peep shows in the back room.
Wow, everything was on that wall, from straight to gay, from domination to transsexual, you name it, and it was there. I quickly looked around, then slipped back into the dark room with about two dozen booths. I went toward the back and slipped inside a booth in the back, making sure I closed, and locked, the door behind me.
That was my first mistake, because the room was totally dark. Damn, I thought, there must be a place to drop some quarters somewhere. After feeling around like a blind man, I finally found a place to drop my change, and dropped in a couple quarters, immediately starting a film.
With the start of the show there was light, and I immediately saw a place to deposit a bill, and added a fiver to my change. Then I settled back against the wall to watch the show. On the screen was a woman being mauled by a man with a huge penis. He was banging her and she was moaning in feigned ecstasy. I noticed a button, touched it, and immediately the view changed to a pair of men making it with each other…disgusting.
On to a blowjob which kept me spellbound, hardening my cock in my briefs. That feeling forced me to unhook my pants and unveil my cock to the dark booth. I slowly stroked it, watching the blonde suck the large cock, which ultimately erupted in her mouth. It was awesome. I especially like how she swirled the cum around in her mouth.
Another click and I saw a woman being gang-banged, while another click saw a young cheerleader being screwed in a locker room.
It was about that time when I heard a sound toward my right. I glanced down, and stepped back as, from the wall, a finger was sliding around a hole in the wall. At first I couldn’t believe it, but then I quickly came to the realization that these booths were sometime more than a place to watch porno, but a place for gays to have some sort of faceless rendezvous.
“He doesn’t think I’m…” I thought to myself. I don’t know what I thought, actually, but it became a moot point when the finger stopped its sliding around the hole and disappeared from sight. A light beep informed me that my five dollars was nearly used up, and I began to pull up my britches. But the sight of a beautiful young redhead showing her ass, holding the cheeks wide open, riveted my eyes on the screen. I quickly added a few dollars to extend my time and came under the spell of the dirty film.
Somehow, I really don’t know how, I must have started leaning toward the side wall. A bit later I felt a finger against my side, and I jumped to my feet as if a snake came into my view. I looked at the finger, circling the hole, and thought to myself it was unbelievable. I mean, do people actually, well, do things in a sleezy, dingy, bookstore stall?
While that thought flew threw my mind I received another shock…a penis came into view. My eyes widened, my head and for that matter the rest of my body recoiled. I hitched up my pants, opened the door, and quickly left that dark back room for the more friendlier confines of the bookstore. There, safe, I began walking aimlessly, fully expecting a man to emerge from the back room looking for me.
It didn’t happen.
I must have looked strange, but no stranger than others who were in the bookstore. Some read the magazines, some looked at the video boxes, while others slipped in and out of the back room. A bored looking clerk sort of presided over the action, or lack thereof, ringing up a sale here, answering a question there. My mind attempted to process all the messages, but finally my dick won out. I needed to cum, and I needed a little motivation to do so. With that in mind I headed back into the darkened room behind the curtain and once again entered a booth with the idea of finding a pretty young thing sucking a cock or two and pushing me over the edge.
Minutes later I found my film, and once again my pants went down and my dick went up. It was wonderful, watching the slutty woman sucking and savoring a rock-hard cock.
I was lost in a fantasy, pretending my cock was the one being worked on by the woman, when I heard a different noise from the side.
“Psssst. Hey there.”
I looked down, and again I watched as a cock came sliding through the hole in the wall. I looked closer, and noticed some writing on the wall. “Kneel here” were the words on the wall, with an arrow extending down toward the floor. I watched, spellbound as the cock sort of pulsated in front of me, barely two feet from my wide open eyes. I heard the words from the other side of the wall, “Suck it.”
Who knows what possessed me, but I reached down and began stroking the dick. It was the first cock, other than my own, that I had ever touched, and while I couldn’t believe I was doing it I also couldn’t believe how powerfully good it felt to do such a nasty thing. I stroked the cock, sliding my fingers up and down it, for several minutes before it erupted all over the floor. Geez, what had I done?
I heard the fellow in the stall next to me buckling up, and I stooped down to look through the hole in the wall. I only saw his pants, and watched as he opened the door. I was going to leave myself but I couldn’t bear to run into the guy, so I waited, shaking and shivering, for a bit before tidying myself up. Just as I was about to leave, though, I heard the door close and seconds later a finger sliding around the hole. That was replaced by another cock. This one was only semi-hard, and I once again was drawn to it. I don’t know why, I can’t explain it. I know I should have left, but I didn’t.
I grasped it, sliding my fingers around it, jerking it off. On the video screen I saw a woman sucking a cock, moaning as she blew the man, and I somehow watched, then dropped to my knees onto the sticky, slimy floor, Directly in front of me was a dick, a cock, and I did the only think I could think of…I opened my mouth, wet my lips, and bent my head toward it.
All of a sudden I was sucking a cock. A manly, hard, cum filled cock.
I’m not proud of what I did that night. I am downright embarrassed. But for the next few minutes I was a cock-sucking whore, bobbing my head up and down a strangers rock hard dick. I sucked; I licked and managed to pull my mouth off his throbbing manhood just before it let go with a stream of cum. The first spurt flooded my face before I was able to look away as the rest of his deposit hit the floor.
I heard a lightly spoken “Thanks” and heard the man leave. I started wiping my face off on my handkerchief, wanting to look presentable before I left, when again I heard the door close and a zipper slide down. Again, a small cock slid through the hole in the wall.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
I knelt back down onto the sticky floor and began sucking the cock to its full hardness. It didn’t take much before the cock began throbbing in my mouth. I remembered Debbie, who used to suck my dick in a parking lot near work, and how she bobbed her head all over my cock. Now it was my turn, bobbing and sucking the cock of a faceless man in the stall next to me. I ate it, licked the sides and sucked the tip. Again, the explosion came without warning, and this time it hit me squarely in the eye.
I rose, wiped the cum off my face, and quickly opened the door to make my getaway, only to be greeted by a line of men outside the door. I lowered my head, walking by to whoops and hollers as I was called everything from slut to whore to dirty cocksucker. Needless to say I bolted from the backroom in a flash as the men laughed at my discomfort. I strode through the magazine and video section and made my way to the door.
Coming in was a man in his late 30s, and our eyes met. He gave me a knowing look, and lifted his hand toward his face. His eyes looked as he flicked something away from his face. It took a minute for me to understand, but then I raised my right hand to my face and touched a sticky substance on my cheek. Embarrassed to no end, I wiped the cum from my face and exited the building.
Two weeks later, on another business trip, I found myself drawn back to the bookstore. But that’s another story.