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If we met at the pub or a ballgame, I think you wouldn’t think twice about me. Maybe a “seems like a nice chap” or “he really likes his sport” but nothing memorable, nothing of substance. A regular guy, with an ever diminishing hairline, not in bad shape but certainly not a gym rat, probably the quintessential definition of average.
My job is regular, I’m a tax accountant. My family is regular, including a once pretty wife sliding to indifference as she gracelessly reverts from perky and young to tired and middle-aged, and two regular kids, a boy in grade school currently infatuated with his new favorite activity (masturbation morning, noon, and night) and a girl in high school that makes masturbation a needless exercise for any boy willing to give her a second look.
I like first impressions; you know, boy is she smart or wow, I bet that guy is some lady-killer. Even first impressions of the sketchy variety leave one with a sense of permanence if not awe; he is such a fag or what a fat bitch.
Catching a sideways glimpse of my reflection in a department store window gives me some insight into the first impression I must make and it’s rather bland and disappointing. The reflection is colorless and streaked with grime from the passing traffic; just a regular guy dressed in regular clothes on his way to his regular job.
Sometimes I revel in my anonymity. You might say I even thrive on it. Hell, to be perfectly honest I get off on it. I enjoy being the invisible man. There’s only one time I want a guy to notice me and that’s when I’m on my knees sucking his cock
But you’re married you say. You’re not gay, you have a wife and kids. All true, but the one bit of unregular in my drab day-to-day existence is my total and complete fascination with the human penis. I absolutely, positively, somewhat ashamedly but without compunction, adore the male genitalia.
Standing at a urinal is a very anonymous experience; men lined up in a row, pissing into porcelain plumbing or draining the lizard into big metal troughs. But being a bit of a pervert, I find the anonymous encounters of watching men, standing shoulder to shoulder, dick in hand, relieving themselves to be very erotic and really quite a fucking turn-on.
Lucky for me, the one area that I am anything but anonymous is in the crotch. I was born with a big, hefty hunk of man meat that would draw attention even in a crowd of well-hung horn dogs. My wife has long ago forgotten the magic of my titillating tool, but I still see the envy and excitement that my 8 inches of uncut cock can arouse in a gym locker room or a public toilet. Straight, bi, or gay, men are mesmerized by a big cock.
I know what those drooling, starry-eyed, closet fags are thinking when they see my big swinging dick, because I get the very same awe-inspired, weak-kneed, must have at all cost thoughts in my perverted little bald head when I spy a big piece of dangling man sausage. My mouth waters, my jaw pops, and my heart races as I imagine a fat, flaccid fuck-stick growing to full attention and getting planted ball deep down my eager and accommodating throat.
I love standing at a urinal, my cock in hand, slowly stroking my semi-rigid tool as other anonymous dicks file in and out of the public toilet. I watch and I wait, like a big game hunter in Africa, ready to pounce on the next trophy dick that emerges from the jungle, freed from the confines of a pair of wool trousers to casually relieve itself only to find that the ultimate relief is standing one urinal over.
Trolling for toilet trash with my sizeable bait provides numerous opportunities to set my hook in the eager mouths of a cross-culture of society. Unfortunately for them, I am not looking to bag a blowjob. No indeed, my bait in meant to entice a bigger fish to surface, one not looking to drop to its knees but rather to force a regular guy like me to his knees to service an anonymous master.
My office is in a large metropolitan city, across the street from a very posh hotel that does a booming convention business. The convention almanbahis yeni giriş center is maze of conference rooms, ballrooms, and meeting rooms spread over three floors. To accommodate all the convention goers, several restrooms are dispersed throughout the facility. One of these toilets is my favorite hunting ground for bagging big dicks. The restroom has two doors and winds down a long hall, past the sinks and around a corner to the urinals. Behind the urinals are individual stalls with full floor to ceiling privacy. The toilet is on the third floor near some smaller meeting rooms and gets only sporadic traffic.
With the double entry doors and the long, obstructed-view walk to the urinals, there is plenty of time to “look natural” if a session of anonymous passion is rudely interrupted by someone actually needing to take a leak. I often cruise the conference center on my morning coffee break and again in the afternoon, trolling for horny, lonely, men traveling far from home and in need of a little sexual release. Whether the guy is getting some at home or not, being on the road always seems to peak the libido. Maybe it’s the in-room porn, the late night drinking, or the collegiate atmosphere that permeates a convention, but these guys are usually hornier than my wife’s toy poodle. I have hooked-up with my fair share of anonymous dick in that little den of perversion.
Lawyers and doctors are sure fire bets. If I see a medical convention or a bar association training session on the convention board, I know my hunt will be successful. And those fucking attorneys have the biggest goddamn dicks. I’ve always thought lawyers were big pricks, I just never knew they had the package to back it up.
Last week I headed to Starbucks for a morning caffeine fix and noticed that a state bar convention was taking place in the hotel. I made the rounds, noting that most of the classes and presentations were due to let out for break in 5 minutes. I staked out the middle urinal of my favorite restroom, unzipped my trousers freeing my semi-hard tool, and settled in for some casual stroking, hoping a few good men would meander through.
I didn’t have long to wait. As I heard the first then second door swing open, I milked several drops of pre-cum from my now hard dick as I held my breath listening, to the heavy footsteps make their way down the marbled hall toward me. The walls above the urinals are mirrored and I stared straight ahead, watching the big fella next to me out of the corner of my eye as I heard him unzip his trousers and free his rod. Almost immediately, a heavy string of piss flowed into the porcelain bowl, my mind racing to imagine the big pipe that could release such a mighty flow.
Unable to resist the urge further, I turned my head slightly to face the reflection of his face in the mirror and was surprised to see him staring straight at me. He was maybe 6’2″ with very dark skin, maybe Latino, slicked back black hair, wearing a very expensive suit and a colorful power tie. A slight smirk crossed his face and he nodded acknowledging me. I swallowed hard and smiled back before I let my eyes fall to his crotch. He had his hands on his hips and his thick, uncut cock was continuing to unload its heavy stream of piss. As I strained my neck to get a better view, he turned slightly toward me and without the aid of his hands, twitched his dick several times to let me know he knew I was watching.
Although I had stopped stroking my dick when he had taken the adjoining urinal, I was still rock hard. Without taking my eyes off his impressive tool, I turned toward this towering hunk of man and resumed jerking my engorged boner, exposing myself fully and hoping he was thinking the same thing I was.
In a deep baritone voice, he whispered condescendingly, “You see anything you like?” as he grabbed his big, fleshy rod and shook it violently. I watched in awe as the last drops of urine were shaken into the bowl.
“Yes sir,” I croaked, barely able to clear the frog that had settled deep in my horny throat.
He almanbahis giriş turned toward me and stroked his slowly growing cock as he reached into his trousers and freed his big, hairy balls from his expensive wool slacks.
At the same time, the bathroom doors opened and another convention goer entered the restroom. Casually, the big-dicked lawyer turned back to the urinal, pretending to continue taking his leak. I did the same and was relieved when the new interloper quickly unzipped and relieved himself at the urinal to my right.
While the intruder was washing his hands around the corner at the washbasin, my tormentor turned back toward me. His cock had now grown to massive size as he continued to slowly stroke it. “You gonna suck my dick or what, bitch?”, he whispered, even before the other fellow had left the restroom.
I didn’t need any further coaxing. In my suit and tie, I dropped to my knees in front of this impressive stud and took a firm grip on his hefty cock. His dick seemed to radiate with heat. My hand barely reached around his tremendous girth and I knew it would take all my skills to get this incredible hunk of man planted ball deep down my throat.
I started slowly, licking the big mushroom head of his angry tool and running my tongue down the fleshy underside of his big pipe. His cock now stood at full attention, and was sticking straight out from his pinstriped trousers, not an ounce of curve in his arrow-straight boner. Obviously not enthralled with my slow start, he grabbed my head in his powerful hands and forced several inches of his boner into my eager mouth.
“Don’t make love to it, you little slut. Suck my fucking dick like you mean it.”
With one hand wrapped around the base of his root, I attempted to throat the remainder of his cock as I worked my tongue furiously to lube the big throat-fucker.
“That’s better, boy,” he purred, as he began to fuck my face with a steady rhythm. “Now, put your hands behind your back and open wide cause I’m gonna stuff this rod ball deep down your hungry little faggot throat.”
I didn’t think I could handle his entire length, but when he pulled his tool from my mouth and slapped my face hard with several purposeful swings of his fleshy boner, I knew he wasn’t kidding. “I said behind your back, bitch!”
I obeyed and with a chuckle, he grabbed my head and starting to really drill my exposed throat. “Oh, yea, I know you can take it all, can’t you? You’re a regular cocksucking pro. You like have that big cock stuffed down your tight throat, don’t you bitch?”
With his fat sausage stuffed down my pie-hole, I could only nod my agreement as my eyes watered and I fought the gag reflex that was trying to cough his big spear from my ravaged throat.
Even as this big anonymous stud was abusing my mouth, my dick was leaking pre-cum and I was in heaven. I didn’t hear the door open this time, but I was rocketed back to reality as he quickly yanked his spit covered tool from my throat and turned back toward the urinal. My disappointment at having his cock so abruptly pulled from my mouth was quickly replaced with fear as I did hear the click of shoes approaching down the marble hall. I quickly stood and resumed by position at the next urinal just as a new guy turned the corner.
I thought he would never finish. Finally he zipped up, washed, and left. Glancing at his watch, the anonymous lawyer remarked, “That should be it, classes are set to resume.”
He turned back to me and grabbed his fat rod in his masculine hand, jerking it slowly and rubbing his pre-cum up and down his glistening fuck-stick, “Strip naked you little bitch.”
I hesitated, not sure what he meant. Did he really want me to strip naked here in the public restroom?
“If you want some more of this,” he barked, shaking his massive cock at me, “Then get naked. Now!!!”
I was hypnotized by his fabulous cock and would have done anything to get it stuffed back down my empty throat. This stud was taking complete control and I was his puppet.
I almanbahis güvenilirmi took off my coat and looked around for a place to hang it.
“Just drop it on the floor. And hurry up,” he ordered.
I quickly undid my tie and removed my shirt. I pulled off my shoes, undid my belt and stripped off my trousers.
“All of it bitch,” he ordered.
I yanked off my boxers and then removed my socks, now standing on the cold marble floor in my birthday suit, completely vulnerable and at the mercy of this anonymous god.
“That’s better,” he quipped, “Now get back on your knees and put those hands behind your back.”
“Yes sir,” I whimpered as I resumed my position.
He moved closer and placed his heavy tool on my bald head, his hairy nuts hanging loosely in front of my nose and mouth. “Suck those nuts you little faggot,” he ordered.
I didn’t need to be told twice. The musky smell of his sweaty sack was driving me crazy. I began licking his exposed nutsack, and sucked one ball, then the other, into my wet mouth. I massaged his balls in my mouth and used my tongue to attack his sack. I could feel the hot jizz boiling in his nuts and my dick twitched involuntarily as I anticipated the creamy reward I was working toward.
As I worked his testicles over, he thumped me squarely on top of the head with his hard hammer. “That’s it faggot. Get that load prepped and ready for delivery.”
He pulled back briefly, but only long enough to take aim at my mouth with his arrow. “Spit on it boy, get it nice and lubed up cause I’m gonna fuck your throat like a $2 whore.”
Again grabbing my head firmly between his strong hands, he buried his cock straight down my throat, his big dickhead plowing through my tight windpipe till I thought his cock was buried clear into my lungs, his pubes tickling my nose and his balls snug up against my chin. He held my head, keeping his dick buried as my throat struggled to accommodate his gigantic boner.
“I knew you could do it bitch. From the second I saw you standing at that urinal, I knew you were a little cocksucking whore. Jerk your dick, faggot while I fuck your throat.”
Taking a hand from behind my back, I worked the almost steady flow of pre-cum from my dick up and down its length as I jerked my raging boner. I found a similar rhythm to the anonymous lawyer as he continued to pummel my throat, pulling his powerful rod from my tortured mouth before ramming it back down my horny hole.
Without warning, he stuffed his full length back down my throat and I felt his cock stiffen further as it throbbed and pulsed, erupting a huge, salty load deep down my throat. His cock continued to spasm as he slowly withdrew from my wet mouth and jerked his remaining seed on my face.
“You like that don’t you, you little cum-eating queer,” he laughed as he smeared the thick, creamy jizz all over my cum spattered face. “Lick it clean like a good little bitch.”
I didn’t need his coaxing as I lapped up every drop of his man-sauce, licking my lips and sucking the last few drops from his slowly softening member even as I continued to stroke my own boner.
As I reached the point of no return, the bathroom door opened again. With a cackle, the big anonymous stud slapped my face one last time with his fleshy dick and turned back to the urinal.
I hurriedly gathered my strewn about clothes and jumped into a toilet stall just as a man turned the corner. As the new fellow took a piss, I continued to stroke my over-aroused cock, too far gone now to stop. With a deep moan, I exploded, coating the wall above the toilet with jet after jet of warm, sticky jizz.
“What the fuck?” I heard the newcomer exclaim, obviously caught off guard by the sounds of some dude getting off in the bathroom stall. “You OK in there man?”
As I collapsed on the toilet, completely spent, my cum slowly dripping down the stall wall, I replied, “Yea I’m fine; must be something I ate.”
Laughing as he zipped up, my anonymous face-fucker interjected, “And he ate the whole thing.”
I continued to mop the studs’ jizz from my face as I listened to the two men wash up and leave. Quickly dressing, I returned to work, another successful coffee break ending in a big creamy load of anonymous spooge.
I never said anonymous had to be boring.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32