The following is based upon a recent adventure of the author. It is
intended for the reading pleasure of adults interested in dirty male/male
sex. It is neither politically correct, nor intended for minors.

Comments to jocksniffer@hotmail.com


ADULT-THEATER RAUNCH


It's 11 a.m. You've got the day off. You don't want to do anything sensible
- like the laundry. You're feeling real horny, sporting an almost
continuous rock-hard boner. And all you can think about is sweaty male
crotch and butt.

So, what's a spunk-driven 22 year-old guy to do?

Well, if you're me, you head to one of the downtown, all-male "adult
theaters". They're all located in the somewhat crime-ridden Tenderloin area
of town. But, at this time of day, there shouldn't be any problem.

So, here I am. My eyes have adjusted to the dark. And I'm sitting at the
end of one of the middle rows, right next to the central aisle. There's a
whole parade of guys passing by all the time, cruising for some
action. They're mostly pretty old, and I'm just not interested. But, I
don't mind them checking me out.

 The film's pretty hot. Set in a prison, there's a lot of male rape taking
place, and I'm loving every minute. I especially get into the forced
sucking of hairy male butt.

I'm actually pretty shy, and I certainly don't consider myself an
exhibitionist. But, here, in this sleazy joint, where sex is the only thing
on guys' minds, I feel free to let it all hang out. My pants and briefs are
down at my knees. And I'm fondling my super-hard boner, rubbing the tip to
smear precum over the head. The index finger of my left hand is playing
with my butthole, which is a tad dirty from a great crap I had a couple
hours ago.

It's easy to read the lust in these guys' eyes as they pass by and ogle me
playing with myself. But, I'm signaling that I'm unavailable. The message
I'm transmitting is unmistakable: Look, if you want, but don't even think
of touching.

Don't get me wrong. I do want to get down and dirty. But, I want to do it
with the right guy. And he just hasn't come along yet.

In this place, you have to be patient. That's the price for being choosy
and restricting yourself to college-aged, masculine studs.

But, my patience is usually rewarded. It truly amazes me that it's possible
to connect with prime beef in these places, but it is very rare that I
don't. The studs I mess around with usually perceive themselves as
"straight" and are convinced they're here just to get their rocks
off. Okay, they might fess up to being curious about guy/guy sex. And
they've often got a few other things going on in their heads, like a need
to humiliate others. But, unsentimental sex is their prime motivation. And
that, by the way, means no kissing!

I am completely into guys like that. I find myself totally transfixed by
the raw, dominant sexual energy they emit. That is what I'm looking for
right now. And I won't settle for less.

I pull my pants up, and head for the back room. There's another all-male
porno film playing on a large TV. Three guys are sitting on the bench
opposite the TV. The two older guys are fondling themselves through their
pants while the younger guy has got his dick out and is casually jerking
himself, with the other two watching him. The young dude looks straight
into my eyes, inviting me to join him. But, I pass up the opportunity. He's
kinda hot, but a bit "too gay" for my tastes.

I return to my seat in the theatre, and get back to some serious dick
stroking.

A clone-type gay guy wanders up from the front and takes a seat on the
other side of the aisle, two rows in front of me. He's situated himself
three seats in from the aisle, thereby signaling availability. In my
opinion, he's nothing remarkable. So, with his presence noted, I turn my
attention back to the action on the screen.

But then events take a turn for the better. This straight-looking,
hunk-of-a-dude takes a seat near the clone. He's got dirty-blond hair, a
cute face, and is wearing denims and sneakers. He's very definitely
athletic. I'd put him at about twenty years old and very hungry for action.

He stretches his legs out and his right foot spreads into the aisle. He
stares at the screen. The clone-guy can't believe his luck and gets up to
sit next to this stud. It's very difficult to see what's happening. I'm
pretty sure the clone is fondling the stud's crotch. And then I see the
clone's arm going up and down. Obviously, the stud's cock must be out of
his pants and the clone must be jacking him off.

Another guy moves in to get closer to the action. He sits behind the stud
and peers over, taking in the sight of this stud being fondled.

But, the stud looks less-than-interested, continually looking
around. Several times, his gaze passes in my direction and lingers,
communicating interest. I ponder a while, trying to figure out how I can
get this guy all to myself.

Meanwhile, the clone has become a little more adventurous and has leaned
his face into the stud's lap. The stud places his hand on the back of the
clone's head and encourages what must be a sucking motion. The stud,
however, continues to stare in my direction, with increasing intensity.

I decide to make my move. I definitely want in on this action.

I move two rows forward and sit directly opposite him on the other side of
the aisle. Both of us have our pants and briefs down at our knees. Both of
us have rock-hard cocks. The clone is still sucking him off.

He looks across at me again and fixes his stare right into my eyes. I nod,
and he gently raises the clone's head signaling that his action with him is
over. The clone throws daggers at me with his eyes. I shrug back at him
slightly, wordlessly expressing the age-old sentiment: That's life!

The stud pulls his pants up, crosses the aisle, and signals to me with his
head that I should move with him to the end of the row, away from the
traffic of the aisle. I dutifully follow his instruction and get up and
follow him.

He sits right at the end of the row and just as I'm about to sit next to
him, he grabs my shoulders and pushes me down on the floor. He's clearly in
charge and I follow his unspoken order to kneel down with my face in his
crotch. This guy knows exactly what he wants and, frankly, I'm gonna be
more than happy to give it to him.

I nuzzle my face in his groin. No detergent smell here. This guy obviously
doesn't spend all his time laundering his denims to keep them in pristine
condition. These jeans are very-well worn and smell completely
natural. With my face surrounded with genuine stud crotch, I'm in heaven.

His boner is tenting up his jeans and I'm really getting off rubbing my
nose up and down his length, inhaling the mild crotch odor. Even with his
jeans on, I pick up some faint dirty-jockstrap smells. There's just the
slightest hint of stale piss and a very-definite whiff of nicely-aged
crotch sweat - you know, that rich, funky smell that guys develop behind
their balls . He squeezes his muscular legs together and I'm engulfed by
the sensation of wallowing in pure, raw maleness.

I raise my hands to try and unzip his fly. But, he pushes them
away. Instead, he slides down in his seat and raises his feet to the back
of the seat in front. My face is directly opposite his denim-clad
butt. Without hesitation, I press forward and wiggle my nose up and down
the crease of his ass. Oh wow, his butt probably ain't too clean
either. It's so slight that I can't be sure, but I think I detect a hint of
shit-stink. My instincts tell me that he's got a less-than-clean butthole
just aching for some good, deep rimming action. My cock almost explodes at
the thought and I have to stop jacking away in order to avoid coming. My
obvious enthusiasm leaves the stud with no doubt as to my strong interest
in his butt.

All I can think right now is that I want this stud's jeans and briefs off
and out of the way. I need to suck skin and breathe in this stud's rich
manfunk, unhampered by his clothes.

But, this guy's got other ideas. With me kneeling before him, and his legs
in the air, I look up at him, silently begging him to let me go further. He
smirks ever so slightly and reaches over to untie his right sneaker. He
takes the sneaker off and I'm immediately overwhelmed by rancid foot
odor. It's far worse than anything you ever smell in a locker room and I
feel my stomach turn. I feel sure that I'm gonna bring up my breakfast. He
sees my reaction, but proceeds anyway.

He grabs his sneaker and places the foot opening directly over my nose. He
gives me the unspoken command to deeply inhale his foul foot odor. I give
in and submit to his will. Deep down, I know that this form of domination
is what I really want anyway. So, why not yield to my passions?

And with that realization, my whole mindset changes. I grab his sneaker and
start kissing and sucking the sweaty slime out of the insole. It is
completely gross, but the experience feels completely right. Once again, he
gives a hint of a smirk as he sees me literally groveling on my knees,
displaying a pounding hardon that I guarantee would make any man proud. I
still can't touch myself for fear of coming too soon.

He takes the sneaker away, raises his gym-socked foot to my face, and
presses down. I'm forced flat on my back on the floor while he rubs his
stinking, sweaty foot all over my face. Each time his foot passes over my
mouth, I attempt to suck it in. The rotten stench is overwhelming, but I'm
in hog heaven. And he knows it.

With my face now completely drenched in his stinking foot sweat, he places
his foot under my chin and, by pressuring upwards, signals to me that I
should resume my kneeling position . And, then -- finally! -- he takes off
his denims and briefs. But, he's not done toying with me yet.

Keeping my face back from his crotch, he places his dirty, smelly briefs
over my head. I'm effectively blindfolded, and completely in his
control. And all I can smell is ripe, stinking crotch sweat and stale
piss. I start sucking furiously. This is truly nirvana. He squeezes my nose
through his briefs and thrusts his foul personal stink into my nostrils.

And then he turns his briefs around and pushes the ass area into my
nostrils. The buttstink emanating from his skidmarks is surreal. Rich and
smooth jockshit smells. The cotton is still warm from being nestled in his
butt. The whole raunchy setting, and my debasement at the hands of this
unwashed, athletic, young stud, is the essence of so many of my jackoff
fantasies. And the reality is truly fucking sublime. I suck for dear life,
panting loudly and uncontrollably, frantically extracting the ass-juices of
this stud from his soiled underwear.

And then, in a flash, the briefs are gone, and he roughly pushes my face
into his naked crotch. He's jacking himself as he forces my mouth onto his
sweaty, hairy balls. The stink is far-fuckin-out. And I delight in getting
his ball-hair in my teeth as I suck on each of his balls in turn.  I want
to suck his dick and he knows it. But, he doesn't let me. Instead he raises
his legs once again and forces my face into his stinking, hairy butt, while
he keeps jacking away.

I need no further encouragement as I dive right in, reveling in the putrid
odor of this stud's butthole. Immersed in the stench of his jock waste, I
tongue-fuck him with abandon, sucking him clean of all the shit slime
around his hole.

I taste what I'm sure is a piece of toilet paper matted in his asshair, and
I become mentally consumed by the fantasy of being his toilet. My face is
floating in the toilet bowl, looking up, while he's taking a crap. Two
furry, muscular mounds of prime male butt, spread apart. Dark asshairs grow
peacefully in the divide, proliferating towards his anus. Two hairy balls
hang low, partially concealing his dick which squirts piss from time to
time as the stud unloads from both sides. My face is surrounded by his
turds, floating in a sea of piss. The stench is totally intoxicating. I
could live the rest of my life as his toilet and have no complaints. And
then the contractions of his sphincter begin, and another turd is
born. This is my dream life. And, in that life, my existence has no meaning
beyond reaching my gaping mouth up to hungrily devour stinking turds as
they emerge from this virile jock's hairy hole.

The fantasies of my short lifetime come together as I act out being a dirty
pig-slave to this stud. I want nothing more. The energy and excitement
become too much as - completely unaided - I shoot torrents of cum out of my
cock. The stud grunts loudly as he lets go of his spunkload. Slimy gobs of
his jock jism fly everywhere. I collapse between his legs, my nose falling
into his cum-drenched pubic hair.

For a while, neither of us move. We're both too exhausted by the intensity
of the moment. In a dream, I lazily suck the cum out his pubic hair while
he gently squirms, obviously very satisfied with our encounter.

We're close to the end of this adventure, and we both know it. I look up at
him and he stares back. There's a deep sense of satisfaction in our
eyes. Two boisterous animals relieved of all tension. With our stares
locked upon each other, he reaches his hand down behind his butt and stinks
his index finger up his hole. He wiggles it around for a while, and then
withdraws it, only to immediately thrust it under my nose and then in my
mouth. I suck the sticky shit mucus from his finger. I know my place, and
he knows his. Then he dresses, and without another look in my direction,
leaves. Not a word has been spoken during our whole encounter.

I wait a couple more moments, and then I too get myself ready to
leave. Mission accomplished.

I emerge into the mid-afternoon sun. Even in the fresh air, all I can smell
is his shit, cum and festering foot odor. The smells are impregnated all
over my face, but especially around my lips. I smell my fingers and they're
still fresh with his shitstink.

I smile as I realize that the instant I get home, I will relive this
encounter one more time, while I can still vividly taste and smell this
stud. My cock hardens at the thought. And I make my way to the bus,
dreamily thanking the spirits for such an awesome experience. Life really
is fun.