chuggit (chuggit) wrote,

the ones that got away, part 1

We cruisers all have our favorites. Usually we don't even know their names, but we could tell you exactly what their cocks are like, what we have to do to get them off, what they will and will not do in a sexual situation. For me, there's a tiny bit of sadness in these otherwise exciting moments of cock slurping and cum spurting; I know that nine times out of ten, the best I can hope for is to randomly run into these guys again. Getting their numbers doesn't work, giving your own number definitely doesn't work, and it's highly likely that your latest ride on that hot, throbbing pigmeat will be your last.

One guy I always remember is a huge hulk of a dude who used to lurk in one of the sleazier bookstores I visited. Located downtown, it was a fading holdout for the public sex scene, which my city made a concerted effort to stamp out by closing several suck spots and bookstores. This one was now staffed by clerks who often refused to make eye contact with you and who, judging by the smell of things, weren't likely to be mopping up the back room anytime soon. You know how a man's natural instinct is to piss after he cums? Well a lot of guys in the back room just go with that, despite the fact that there's no restroom.

So yeah, this particular bookstore is a filth pit, but not without its rewards. Occasionally it yields a very hot, very curious straight dude who's more than willing to let you chow down on his hard dick, just as long as he can keep staring straight ahead at that porn video on the booth's screen. Others are a little more cultured; they stand around smoking a cigarette so they have the opportunity to actually check out the circling sharks before agreeing to become the meat.

The hulking dude was beyond hot, to me. He was everything I looked for in a suck buddy. Over six foot tall, wide as that truck you just can't get around on the highway, 40ish, and with a cock that was just big enough to make you doubt whether you'd actually get it all in your mouth. His nuts were huge, too, and made an excellent handle while you were crouching down in front of him. He was always back there smoking, and the day I saw him there the first time, I nearly fell over myself trying to get back into the booth nearest him, all in hopes that he'd join me eventually. He did. The first time he just stood there and let me pull it out of his pants; within a minute of getting it fully hard and sucking on it, his cock exploded with a heavy, substantial cumload. Could this dude be any more perfect?

His face was odd, and that's being nice. He'd never win any pageants, that's for sure, even if they really had one for the best looking heavy equipment operator that a low-end construction site could cough up. That was just the way I liked him, actually; he had a scary look about him, sort of like Ron Perlman, except dark haired and clean shaven.

I saw him in there a second time, and repeated the scenario. Same cautious, shifty-eyed approach, the casual lowering of his zipper and fumbling in his shorts, the floppy pink of his flaccid cock, which soon turned raging hard and very quickly spit its spermy contents into my greedy mouth. This time though, the act was interrupted by one of the bookstore employees walking through the back to get to the office. An emergency exit buzzer went off and the lights came on, and Big Dude almost bolted, quickly flipping his boner back inside his pants. "They're just going in the office" I quickly whispered. He looked around nervously, like we were gonna get busted anyway. "They don't care what's goin on back here, they won't bother us." He relaxed when the sounds stopped and it was quiet again, and I took out his cock again and got it back to its erect condition. What a magnificent piece of man, spewing hot white in my mouth.

Then there was "the last time". I didn't realize it was the last time, as you could probably imagine, but it was. Ironically, it was his most relaxed and involved performance. He almost wasn't the same guy, and I wondered if he was drunk. He dropped his pants to his ankles this time, allowing me to really get at that huge, bristly ballsac. It also showed me his huge, muscular legs, bristling with their own modest covering of hair. I slid his shirt up to reveal his huge round belly and I rubbed my hand over it as I worked, my fingers trailing downwards to run gently through his pubic hair. He grinned as I blew him, and urged me to take my time; I'd made my share of mistakes when it comes to holding back, but this time I was totally in control of myself, pulling off his cock and sliding my lips down the side of the fat shaft before returning and putting it back in my mouth. I forced him to hold off and he even vocalized for me, something like "Awww yeah..." I would have done anything he commanded me, I would have licked his butt if he'd wanted me to. I would have bent over and let him shove that thick piece in my ass. Instead he shoved himself in and out of my mouth and whispered "Make me cum...make me cum..." When he did, it was magnificent. His big body shuddered and he gasped over and over, unlike the last few times where he was dead silent. This was just how I wanted him. And it was the last time I ever saw him.

Well, maybe. I could have sworn I ran into him in the grocery store, with his wife. He had on a t-shirt that advertised a local towing company, and he looked dirty enough that he'd been doing just that all day. I tailed him at a respectful distance, hoping to get some kind of recognition. None. His seemingly oblivious non-reaction started to deflate my confidence that it was even him in the first place; I didn't even get a nervous sideways glance at having been caught in a public place with your wife by a guy who sucked you off on a number of occasions.

I still don't know. I still look for him everywhere, and sometimes I see him, and never once am I sure it's him. I wouldn't be 100% sure unless it was in a dark porno arcade and he was unzipping his fly.
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