Learning Older Women s Tricks
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Learning To Love Older Cock free porn video
*** This is a true story about how I became attracted to older men and the event that led to me sucking my first older cock. This is my first attempt at writing and I will try to recreate the event as accurately as I can remember. I am not a professional writer just a guy wanting to share his first old man bj experience.
My name is Mike, and I was an average sculptured young man about 5'7 and tipped the scales at a lean 165 pounds. I was often told that I was attractive and that I resembled the younger version of the county western singer Clint Black. I felt that I was a good looking 18 yo boy and I enjoyed flirting and flaunting my sex appeal. At the time I was living with my girlfriend in a tiny apartment. I was not in love, but she was steady rent money and a quick, easy release for my over charged sex drive and super thrived sexual curiosity.
At that age I had basically self-restricted my sexual adventures to heterosexual fun. I admit that I was a selfish boyfriend and reaped in the benefits of being a young stud. I took every available opportunity to take sexual 'advantages' of the inexperienced younger girls merely by convincing them that 'I LOVED THEM' at the critical moment, regardless that I had a live-in girlfriend relationship status.
Like most k**s, when I was a younger teenager I experimented a little with bi-sexuality. Often, my friends and I would do the infamous, teenage 'double dare' each other into circle-jerks while someone took their turn at cruising through the spreads of the Hustler or Swank magazines that we stole from our sibling's hiding spot or the occasional stained collection we found in the local woods.
The type of nasty porn magazines with the pages all stuck together with dried cum. I would often close my eyes and imagine myself secretly watching some horny, perverted dude stroking his cock while fantasying about his neighbor's daughter; milking his cock over the centerfold pages of the dainty young women. I have to admit that I enjoyed the feel of my buddies' cocks in my grip and jerking them until their sperm splattered all over my hands. I would continue to stroke each one until my palms were fully drenched with cum and my fingertips were wrinkled from the moisture.
I was 19 years old and drudging my way through community college while working the midnight shift in a local convenience store. My royal blue shift shirts were typically unbuttoned one notch below the manager's tolerance level exposing my muscular chest for the occasional peeper.
My ass was commonly squeezed into my favorite pair of white Guess jeans. I intentionally went bare under them and often wondered if my package was noticeable through the material. I guess I was a typical boy of that age who had a little bit of potential and a whole lot of cocky attitude. There is not much to do when you work the midnight shift at a 7-11 store in Dallas, Texas except get in trouble somehow. I spent many of my early morning shifts jacking off in the storage room while browsing our wide selection of porn magazines that the store distributed.
There was a security camera mounted in the storeroom and I often wondered if anyone every randomly reviewed the tapes. I secretly hoped that someone had viewed them at some point and became aroused. Sure, I was supposed to be stocking shelves with fresh merchandise or peering down the 'would be' shop lifters. But, I thought I could leave most of that hard work to the dedicated morning shift. I spent my available time on more personal entertainment, having trashy phone sex with strangers.
Our store was located just on the border of the controversial, eclectic side of town. In other words, we were positioned near the gay section of Dallas known as Oak Lawn. Each and every night I would get dozens of phone calls from primarily men. These guys had frequented our store and saw me strutting behind the counter. I am a very social person and enjoy talking to everyone. Well, at 2AM after the bars had closed and the buzz has turned to drunk, these men had only one topic to discuss, SEX!!!
I was an insatiable young man who adorned dishonorable intensions accented with a kinky sexual curiosity. I pleasured in all the diverse forms of genital satisfaction. Even, the voyeurism of a buddy who butt fucked my girlfriend after we mentally tranquilized her with Margaritas leaving her easily persuadable to our every depravity. I enjoyed the audio sexual role playing with the aroused perverts who called nightly. I provocatively delivered pornographic narrations while taunting them with seductive, sexual possibilities. I must admit that each of these conversions left me horny as hell and needing to jerk off.
Furthermore, I was starting to allow that old teenage bi-sexual exploration to surface again in my hardening groin. I could spend hours on the phone teasing in a whispery, pleading voice describing my forbidden desires to become the party favor at a gay sex orgy. I begged to be tied face down on the kitchen table with my boxers yanked around my knees while blindfolded for the guest’s inspection and appreciation. I enjoyed describing how each guy would barter his way in line to be the next cock pumping my tight little pink ass hole.
Another favorite tease I often narrated was a blackmail fantasy of having to suck off some ‘son-of-bitch’ who bargained with sexual exploitation pictures of me engaged in fag sex. All this teasing was done in jest and was simply an outlet to dull the boredom during the lonely 11-7 AM shift. Knowing full well it was basically bull-shit ramblings to a bunch of drunken, masturbating perverts.
However, I was opening Pandora's Box and I loved it. My sexual appetite and insatiable curiosity started to control my better judgment. I started to agree to casual hook-ups with a few of the more vocal, confident personalities. For whatever reason, this personality trait was prominent in the mature men. I personally wasn't aroused by the softer boys who were in touch with their decorating or fashion sense.
I went with the technique I knew best from my teenage bi-sexual experiences, hand jobs. I offered a few of the more nasty men a naughty, oiled up hand job. I told them to pick me up outside the store an hour or so before my 11PM shift and I promised a nice nut blowing orgasm in their car. I met with several guys and I was really starting to enjoy my bi-sexual persona again and realized the thought of a hard cock remained in my thoughts throughout the days.
I started to receive several calls from a guy named Bill. He claimed to be 51 which would put him near over 30 years my elder. He went into full details of each and every dimension of his body. Bill described himself as an average Caucasian working stiff with a 'never ending marriage', and a wife that was well beyond her hormonal prime and sexual interest. His weight was a chubby 230 pounds on a 5'10 frame. He had a spare tire around his midsection that hung just over his belt and his hair was '20+ years of boring marriage' worth of balding.
However, he made up for what he lacked in sophistication with his 7.5'' uncut cock that could stay erected all night. I remember that he called himself a 'shower and not a grower'. He said his cock hung a good 6 ¼ ‘’ when limp. His description made me chuckle because that is a pleasurable size in my opinion and a full inch longer than mine when fully erect. He had a poor attitude and was in sloppy physical condition. He was absolutely nothing that I would be normally attracted to and probably would be even a little obscene for my age.
Something about this guy just seemed to intrigue me and turn me on. I think the nasty wrongness of the whole situation is what made it so sexually appealing. We arranged to meet outside the store about 10 PM. I was actually off work that particular evening but, I liked to keep that a secret as it is a great excuse for me to return promptly.
Bill was on time and drove up in a standard, clean, older model Ford pickup. I walked to the passenger side window and as he lowered the glass. I quickly noticed he wore a pair of navy blue Dockers slacks with a faded ivory long sleeve shirt with the cuffs rolled at the wrists with the hem un-tucked at the waist. He was listening to 60's rock music on a local radio station while a high-ball glass adorning a Jack Daniel's insignia rested on the dash.
He spoke, 'You ready for this, k**? Let's go!'
It wasn't much of an introduction and the way he spoke seemed to make me question the romance of the situation. His voice was rough as if he puffed most of his early years and the tone was that of a person who didn’t manage his liquor pleasantly. I climbed in the passenger seat and surveyed the situation. The truck was clean with a full single bench seat across the front. The dash was badly faded from the relentless Texas sun. He had a cheap plastic tray holder on the floor and a 5th bottle of Jack Daniels in the cup resting spot.
He offered his hand and said 'Ya made it'. His grip was powerful and I felt he was trying to make a statement with it. He offered up his bottle of Jack. I asked if he had an extra glass I could use and in a seemly uneducated replied he stated, 'You don't need no glass boy!!' Sometimes we should listen to our inner voice and retreat from danger but, I ignored common sense and said, 'Let's roll.'
We took off in the truck down West Mockingbird Lane as I moved over closer to him on the bench seat. If you're not familiar with the Dallas throughways let me tell you that road is busy at 10:30 PM, even on a weekday evening. We didn't have much in common to talk about except our usual nightly phone sex topics. He requested that I get naked as we drove.
He said it was a short drive to where we were going. He wanted to see fit body nude and the tight immature ass that he masturbated to nightly. I told him I was worried about the police busting me being nude. He just looked at me with a expressionless, parental stare that showed his growing impatience.
Like a subdued puppy, I hesitantly removed my shirt and pants and sat them on the floor. His eyes penetrated my body up and down. We both continued to drain the bottle with some reckless abandonment. Surprisingly, he snatched up my pants and placed them on the dash as is they were a trophy of his accomplishment. The windows were down from our earlier introduction when I approached the truck. The summer’s gentle breeze felt soothing on my aroused, engorged skin and the whiskey buzz had begun to release my inhibitions.
Click here for Sperm Cult website
I leaned into him and started to rub his leg and squeezed his crotch while whispering sexy trash as he drove. I unzipped his pants and lowered them enough to get hand access to his cock and balls. His cock was long and hung limp at least the length that he described. He had a large mushroom shaped head that was partially hidden by his uncut foreskin. His balls were large and floated in the ample room of the sack that old men seem to acquire through many years of gravity. I gripped his cock and began to stroke him with while my imagination became saturated with images of his tool fully erect.
This was the first time that I had been completely naked in front of one of my hookups. My nervous were tense with excitement and my cock was rock hard. He enjoyed stroking my bare back as I leaned in closer to be near him. My heart raced as I stroked his hard cock on the open road. He changed lanes from right to left in order to pass a slow moving car. I stopped masturbating him and reached for my clothes. He grabbed my hand and returned it to his cock reassured me that was dark, to just relax and stay low out of sight.
I crouched down as he placed his firm grip over my hand and began to methodically masturbate himself with my hand. I have no idea if the driver noticed me hunched over in his bare lap or not, but I felt totally exposed and I was completely lost in the lust of the moment. The humiliation and embarrassment of being possibly caught stroking another man's dick accelerated my libido and made my balls ache for relief. We shared this hide and seek ritual threw several red lights and past a few sight seers in the slow lane.
Soon, we turned into a large retail parking lot. The space was parallel to storefront buildings at each entrance and a 24x7 adult book store nestled into the center. This area is known for late night shift of working girls, porn stores and d**g dealers. Bill parked the truck along a chain linked fence. He released the seat and slid it back for more comfort.
There were nearly a dozen vehicles in the parking lot with men loitering about oblivious to our circumstance. Many of them lingered in the parking lot desperately lurking for any sign of romantic invitation while others flogged through nudity magazines with their vehicle’s dome light sponsoring the only entertainment for self-relief.
I thought to myself that this is a lot of effort for a hand job, but my hormones succeeded where my brain merely questioned. I was drunk and completely naked in a stranger's pickup truck that was now stowed in a parking lot of a porn store. I was chaperoned by an older 'beer gutted' pervert whose pants were positioned around his ankles. I oiled up his cock with baby oil and I began to hammer stroke his swollen cock while I delivered some trashy rehearsed porno prolog to stimulate his sinful imagination.
'Yeah Bill, you like me stroking that fucking cock, don't you?'
"I can tell by your hard cock that you like a young MAN stroking that dick, you fucking pervert!!"
His cock was rock hard; his head was resting back on the seat and would only rise if he heard voices nearby. My body was slid close to his with my head resting on his shoulder and chest muscles while my eyes betrayed me with voyeurism of my own hand pumping another man's cock that was tucked well below his healthy gut.
Bill reached for his glass of whiskey and slammed what remained in the glass. He was moaning uncontrollably and stammering in a low, barely audible voice.
"That feels so fucking good, ahhhhhhh, fuck yes, that's it boy.'
My hand slipped up and down over his long lubed member. I noticed he had a thick vein that bulged out from one side and ran the length of his shaft. I enjoyed caressing it because it seemed to apply sensation to him that was visually apparent in his reactions. I felt Bill's hand sliding up and down my back with increasing impatience as his breathing seemed to prolog his approaching orgasm.
Determined, he placed both hand on the back of my head and shoved my face downward over his belly and buried in his lap. His actions startled me and I quickly attempted to rise from his crotch.
'SUCK THAT FUCKING COCK you god damn tease,' he said.
His left hand gripped his cock and guided the tip straight up toward my face. His large powerful right hand engulfed the back of my head and with much strength pushed my mouth toward his crotch. My lips brushed against the oily mushroom.
'Come on boy, let's go, suck that cock!!'
I could smell the musky scent of a working man's sweaty balls. I could taste the salty mixture of oil and cum lubricant that darned my lips. My mind filtered through a millions reasons why to resist this, but my lust was overpowering my judgment. I opened my mouth and allowed his bare dick to slip past my tongue with a nonstop decent down my throat. I have never given a blowjob before, but I knew the routine and had plenty of experience encouraging non-cooperative young girls on their first oral attempt.
His hands gripped my head firmly as he seemed to use my mouth to masturbate his erection. I didn't have to assist much; his hands freely forced my head in a bobbing deep throat rhythm. The more I gagged on his head penetrating my throat the deeper he pushed the next thrust. My hands were resting on his thighs levitating my body against his downward force. My eyes were watering with each thrust into my tender throat. I began to submit and was no longer resisting his face fucking. I began to lustfully moan uncontrollably with each pump.
He lifted my head to just at the tip of his engorged member and began to hump my mouth from below. His hard cock trusted deep into my mouth with discerning revenge for the men whom I had taunted in the past. I leaned in his lap motionless as he fucked me in a steady pattern. He lowered his hips to the seat until his mushroom was at edge of my lips then trusted it deep into my swollen throat. Each of his pumps rolled his foreskin back exposing a pink silky texture below. The flavor of his cock was delicious and a huge turn on. I loved being treated like the slut I portrayed in my phone fantasies.
He repeated, 'Suck it faggot, take my cock you mother fucker'.
Bill was close and did a final hump upward to initiate his eruption into my mouth. He continued to milk his dick into my mouth using my head to message his ejaculation. I wanted his load; I wanted to swallow it for him. I gulped the way I encouraged all my prior girlfriends to do when I blew in their mouths. The taste was salty and thick and coated my tongue. I enjoyable the flavor more than I ever imagined and I feared I was a cocksucker for life.
It was going to be a challenge to return to our missionary sex with my girlfriend. He released my head and I rose from his lap and blame it on the booze or my hormones, but all I could come up with was, 'God Damn! That was fucking hot! I want more!'
I just stared at him speechless. He raised his pants and said, 'Can't wait to do that again,' and started the vehicle. I spent the drive back making out with his cock. I kissed and caressed the silky skin over my face. I licked the slit at the mount of his head while deep throating his shaft well beyond my comfort level. I did not care if anyone saw us or was disgusted by me.
We returned to the store and parked in the employee spots directly behind the building. I finally found relief masturbating in his front seat as he described his 'fuck' plans for my body.
'Call ya tomorrow night,' he stated as he reached and dropped my jeans out his driver's side window. I exited the truck and made a bare ass dash to get my pants on before any customers drove past. I laughed the whole time thinking how much damn fun this was.
Contact me for more details at michael.beaty at rocketmail [dot] com
END
My name is Mike, and I was an average sculptured young man about 5'7 and tipped the scales at a lean 165 pounds. I was often told that I was attractive and that I resembled the younger version of the county western singer Clint Black. I felt that I was a good looking 18 yo boy and I enjoyed flirting and flaunting my sex appeal. At the time I was living with my girlfriend in a tiny apartment. I was not in love, but she was steady rent money and a quick, easy release for my over charged sex drive and super thrived sexual curiosity.
At that age I had basically self-restricted my sexual adventures to heterosexual fun. I admit that I was a selfish boyfriend and reaped in the benefits of being a young stud. I took every available opportunity to take sexual 'advantages' of the inexperienced younger girls merely by convincing them that 'I LOVED THEM' at the critical moment, regardless that I had a live-in girlfriend relationship status.
Like most k**s, when I was a younger teenager I experimented a little with bi-sexuality. Often, my friends and I would do the infamous, teenage 'double dare' each other into circle-jerks while someone took their turn at cruising through the spreads of the Hustler or Swank magazines that we stole from our sibling's hiding spot or the occasional stained collection we found in the local woods.
The type of nasty porn magazines with the pages all stuck together with dried cum. I would often close my eyes and imagine myself secretly watching some horny, perverted dude stroking his cock while fantasying about his neighbor's daughter; milking his cock over the centerfold pages of the dainty young women. I have to admit that I enjoyed the feel of my buddies' cocks in my grip and jerking them until their sperm splattered all over my hands. I would continue to stroke each one until my palms were fully drenched with cum and my fingertips were wrinkled from the moisture.
I was 19 years old and drudging my way through community college while working the midnight shift in a local convenience store. My royal blue shift shirts were typically unbuttoned one notch below the manager's tolerance level exposing my muscular chest for the occasional peeper.
My ass was commonly squeezed into my favorite pair of white Guess jeans. I intentionally went bare under them and often wondered if my package was noticeable through the material. I guess I was a typical boy of that age who had a little bit of potential and a whole lot of cocky attitude. There is not much to do when you work the midnight shift at a 7-11 store in Dallas, Texas except get in trouble somehow. I spent many of my early morning shifts jacking off in the storage room while browsing our wide selection of porn magazines that the store distributed.
There was a security camera mounted in the storeroom and I often wondered if anyone every randomly reviewed the tapes. I secretly hoped that someone had viewed them at some point and became aroused. Sure, I was supposed to be stocking shelves with fresh merchandise or peering down the 'would be' shop lifters. But, I thought I could leave most of that hard work to the dedicated morning shift. I spent my available time on more personal entertainment, having trashy phone sex with strangers.
Our store was located just on the border of the controversial, eclectic side of town. In other words, we were positioned near the gay section of Dallas known as Oak Lawn. Each and every night I would get dozens of phone calls from primarily men. These guys had frequented our store and saw me strutting behind the counter. I am a very social person and enjoy talking to everyone. Well, at 2AM after the bars had closed and the buzz has turned to drunk, these men had only one topic to discuss, SEX!!!
I was an insatiable young man who adorned dishonorable intensions accented with a kinky sexual curiosity. I pleasured in all the diverse forms of genital satisfaction. Even, the voyeurism of a buddy who butt fucked my girlfriend after we mentally tranquilized her with Margaritas leaving her easily persuadable to our every depravity. I enjoyed the audio sexual role playing with the aroused perverts who called nightly. I provocatively delivered pornographic narrations while taunting them with seductive, sexual possibilities. I must admit that each of these conversions left me horny as hell and needing to jerk off.
Furthermore, I was starting to allow that old teenage bi-sexual exploration to surface again in my hardening groin. I could spend hours on the phone teasing in a whispery, pleading voice describing my forbidden desires to become the party favor at a gay sex orgy. I begged to be tied face down on the kitchen table with my boxers yanked around my knees while blindfolded for the guest’s inspection and appreciation. I enjoyed describing how each guy would barter his way in line to be the next cock pumping my tight little pink ass hole.
Another favorite tease I often narrated was a blackmail fantasy of having to suck off some ‘son-of-bitch’ who bargained with sexual exploitation pictures of me engaged in fag sex. All this teasing was done in jest and was simply an outlet to dull the boredom during the lonely 11-7 AM shift. Knowing full well it was basically bull-shit ramblings to a bunch of drunken, masturbating perverts.
However, I was opening Pandora's Box and I loved it. My sexual appetite and insatiable curiosity started to control my better judgment. I started to agree to casual hook-ups with a few of the more vocal, confident personalities. For whatever reason, this personality trait was prominent in the mature men. I personally wasn't aroused by the softer boys who were in touch with their decorating or fashion sense.
I went with the technique I knew best from my teenage bi-sexual experiences, hand jobs. I offered a few of the more nasty men a naughty, oiled up hand job. I told them to pick me up outside the store an hour or so before my 11PM shift and I promised a nice nut blowing orgasm in their car. I met with several guys and I was really starting to enjoy my bi-sexual persona again and realized the thought of a hard cock remained in my thoughts throughout the days.
I started to receive several calls from a guy named Bill. He claimed to be 51 which would put him near over 30 years my elder. He went into full details of each and every dimension of his body. Bill described himself as an average Caucasian working stiff with a 'never ending marriage', and a wife that was well beyond her hormonal prime and sexual interest. His weight was a chubby 230 pounds on a 5'10 frame. He had a spare tire around his midsection that hung just over his belt and his hair was '20+ years of boring marriage' worth of balding.
However, he made up for what he lacked in sophistication with his 7.5'' uncut cock that could stay erected all night. I remember that he called himself a 'shower and not a grower'. He said his cock hung a good 6 ¼ ‘’ when limp. His description made me chuckle because that is a pleasurable size in my opinion and a full inch longer than mine when fully erect. He had a poor attitude and was in sloppy physical condition. He was absolutely nothing that I would be normally attracted to and probably would be even a little obscene for my age.
Something about this guy just seemed to intrigue me and turn me on. I think the nasty wrongness of the whole situation is what made it so sexually appealing. We arranged to meet outside the store about 10 PM. I was actually off work that particular evening but, I liked to keep that a secret as it is a great excuse for me to return promptly.
Bill was on time and drove up in a standard, clean, older model Ford pickup. I walked to the passenger side window and as he lowered the glass. I quickly noticed he wore a pair of navy blue Dockers slacks with a faded ivory long sleeve shirt with the cuffs rolled at the wrists with the hem un-tucked at the waist. He was listening to 60's rock music on a local radio station while a high-ball glass adorning a Jack Daniel's insignia rested on the dash.
He spoke, 'You ready for this, k**? Let's go!'
It wasn't much of an introduction and the way he spoke seemed to make me question the romance of the situation. His voice was rough as if he puffed most of his early years and the tone was that of a person who didn’t manage his liquor pleasantly. I climbed in the passenger seat and surveyed the situation. The truck was clean with a full single bench seat across the front. The dash was badly faded from the relentless Texas sun. He had a cheap plastic tray holder on the floor and a 5th bottle of Jack Daniels in the cup resting spot.
He offered his hand and said 'Ya made it'. His grip was powerful and I felt he was trying to make a statement with it. He offered up his bottle of Jack. I asked if he had an extra glass I could use and in a seemly uneducated replied he stated, 'You don't need no glass boy!!' Sometimes we should listen to our inner voice and retreat from danger but, I ignored common sense and said, 'Let's roll.'
We took off in the truck down West Mockingbird Lane as I moved over closer to him on the bench seat. If you're not familiar with the Dallas throughways let me tell you that road is busy at 10:30 PM, even on a weekday evening. We didn't have much in common to talk about except our usual nightly phone sex topics. He requested that I get naked as we drove.
He said it was a short drive to where we were going. He wanted to see fit body nude and the tight immature ass that he masturbated to nightly. I told him I was worried about the police busting me being nude. He just looked at me with a expressionless, parental stare that showed his growing impatience.
Like a subdued puppy, I hesitantly removed my shirt and pants and sat them on the floor. His eyes penetrated my body up and down. We both continued to drain the bottle with some reckless abandonment. Surprisingly, he snatched up my pants and placed them on the dash as is they were a trophy of his accomplishment. The windows were down from our earlier introduction when I approached the truck. The summer’s gentle breeze felt soothing on my aroused, engorged skin and the whiskey buzz had begun to release my inhibitions.
Click here for Sperm Cult website
I leaned into him and started to rub his leg and squeezed his crotch while whispering sexy trash as he drove. I unzipped his pants and lowered them enough to get hand access to his cock and balls. His cock was long and hung limp at least the length that he described. He had a large mushroom shaped head that was partially hidden by his uncut foreskin. His balls were large and floated in the ample room of the sack that old men seem to acquire through many years of gravity. I gripped his cock and began to stroke him with while my imagination became saturated with images of his tool fully erect.
This was the first time that I had been completely naked in front of one of my hookups. My nervous were tense with excitement and my cock was rock hard. He enjoyed stroking my bare back as I leaned in closer to be near him. My heart raced as I stroked his hard cock on the open road. He changed lanes from right to left in order to pass a slow moving car. I stopped masturbating him and reached for my clothes. He grabbed my hand and returned it to his cock reassured me that was dark, to just relax and stay low out of sight.
I crouched down as he placed his firm grip over my hand and began to methodically masturbate himself with my hand. I have no idea if the driver noticed me hunched over in his bare lap or not, but I felt totally exposed and I was completely lost in the lust of the moment. The humiliation and embarrassment of being possibly caught stroking another man's dick accelerated my libido and made my balls ache for relief. We shared this hide and seek ritual threw several red lights and past a few sight seers in the slow lane.
Soon, we turned into a large retail parking lot. The space was parallel to storefront buildings at each entrance and a 24x7 adult book store nestled into the center. This area is known for late night shift of working girls, porn stores and d**g dealers. Bill parked the truck along a chain linked fence. He released the seat and slid it back for more comfort.
There were nearly a dozen vehicles in the parking lot with men loitering about oblivious to our circumstance. Many of them lingered in the parking lot desperately lurking for any sign of romantic invitation while others flogged through nudity magazines with their vehicle’s dome light sponsoring the only entertainment for self-relief.
I thought to myself that this is a lot of effort for a hand job, but my hormones succeeded where my brain merely questioned. I was drunk and completely naked in a stranger's pickup truck that was now stowed in a parking lot of a porn store. I was chaperoned by an older 'beer gutted' pervert whose pants were positioned around his ankles. I oiled up his cock with baby oil and I began to hammer stroke his swollen cock while I delivered some trashy rehearsed porno prolog to stimulate his sinful imagination.
'Yeah Bill, you like me stroking that fucking cock, don't you?'
"I can tell by your hard cock that you like a young MAN stroking that dick, you fucking pervert!!"
His cock was rock hard; his head was resting back on the seat and would only rise if he heard voices nearby. My body was slid close to his with my head resting on his shoulder and chest muscles while my eyes betrayed me with voyeurism of my own hand pumping another man's cock that was tucked well below his healthy gut.
Bill reached for his glass of whiskey and slammed what remained in the glass. He was moaning uncontrollably and stammering in a low, barely audible voice.
"That feels so fucking good, ahhhhhhh, fuck yes, that's it boy.'
My hand slipped up and down over his long lubed member. I noticed he had a thick vein that bulged out from one side and ran the length of his shaft. I enjoyed caressing it because it seemed to apply sensation to him that was visually apparent in his reactions. I felt Bill's hand sliding up and down my back with increasing impatience as his breathing seemed to prolog his approaching orgasm.
Determined, he placed both hand on the back of my head and shoved my face downward over his belly and buried in his lap. His actions startled me and I quickly attempted to rise from his crotch.
'SUCK THAT FUCKING COCK you god damn tease,' he said.
His left hand gripped his cock and guided the tip straight up toward my face. His large powerful right hand engulfed the back of my head and with much strength pushed my mouth toward his crotch. My lips brushed against the oily mushroom.
'Come on boy, let's go, suck that cock!!'
I could smell the musky scent of a working man's sweaty balls. I could taste the salty mixture of oil and cum lubricant that darned my lips. My mind filtered through a millions reasons why to resist this, but my lust was overpowering my judgment. I opened my mouth and allowed his bare dick to slip past my tongue with a nonstop decent down my throat. I have never given a blowjob before, but I knew the routine and had plenty of experience encouraging non-cooperative young girls on their first oral attempt.
His hands gripped my head firmly as he seemed to use my mouth to masturbate his erection. I didn't have to assist much; his hands freely forced my head in a bobbing deep throat rhythm. The more I gagged on his head penetrating my throat the deeper he pushed the next thrust. My hands were resting on his thighs levitating my body against his downward force. My eyes were watering with each thrust into my tender throat. I began to submit and was no longer resisting his face fucking. I began to lustfully moan uncontrollably with each pump.
He lifted my head to just at the tip of his engorged member and began to hump my mouth from below. His hard cock trusted deep into my mouth with discerning revenge for the men whom I had taunted in the past. I leaned in his lap motionless as he fucked me in a steady pattern. He lowered his hips to the seat until his mushroom was at edge of my lips then trusted it deep into my swollen throat. Each of his pumps rolled his foreskin back exposing a pink silky texture below. The flavor of his cock was delicious and a huge turn on. I loved being treated like the slut I portrayed in my phone fantasies.
He repeated, 'Suck it faggot, take my cock you mother fucker'.
Bill was close and did a final hump upward to initiate his eruption into my mouth. He continued to milk his dick into my mouth using my head to message his ejaculation. I wanted his load; I wanted to swallow it for him. I gulped the way I encouraged all my prior girlfriends to do when I blew in their mouths. The taste was salty and thick and coated my tongue. I enjoyable the flavor more than I ever imagined and I feared I was a cocksucker for life.
It was going to be a challenge to return to our missionary sex with my girlfriend. He released my head and I rose from his lap and blame it on the booze or my hormones, but all I could come up with was, 'God Damn! That was fucking hot! I want more!'
I just stared at him speechless. He raised his pants and said, 'Can't wait to do that again,' and started the vehicle. I spent the drive back making out with his cock. I kissed and caressed the silky skin over my face. I licked the slit at the mount of his head while deep throating his shaft well beyond my comfort level. I did not care if anyone saw us or was disgusted by me.
We returned to the store and parked in the employee spots directly behind the building. I finally found relief masturbating in his front seat as he described his 'fuck' plans for my body.
'Call ya tomorrow night,' he stated as he reached and dropped my jeans out his driver's side window. I exited the truck and made a bare ass dash to get my pants on before any customers drove past. I laughed the whole time thinking how much damn fun this was.
Contact me for more details at michael.beaty at rocketmail [dot] com
END
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