Date: Sat, 8 May 1999 05:53:15 -0700
From: 10501
Subject: Fringe benefits, working in a dirty bookstore

Back before the age of AIDS I worked at a bookstore in a predominantly Gay
part of town.  No, the lines down the center of the streets weren't pink,
but they might as well have been.  I worked the "graveyard" shift.  I liked
it best because it left me the day free to pursue other possibilities.
  Then too, that bookstore was a happening place in the late 70s in the
very early hours of the A.M.!

I used to stand at my cashier's stand and watch all the hot men as they
entered the store and began their ritual "mating dance".  A new guy would
come in and from a space within five feet of the door, he'd survey the
"beef on the hoof".  You see all our rows of books were arranged so that
the person in the cashier's stand could look down each aisle.  It was sort
of a sun burst pattern.  Anyway, that meant that new arrivals could also
check out the supply of available fresh meat by simply standing in front of
the stand and looking down the rows.

The foot traffic would pick up around 1:30A.M. as the bars began to get
ready to close at the mandatory 2:00A.M.  Those who were used to the action
in the bookstore would try to get there a bit before the witching hour of
2:00A.M. to get their favorite cruising spots.  There was a lot of S & M
action, you know Stand & Model, that is.  My God, but there were a lot of
genuinely beautiful men around back then!

Part of the fun for me was that as the only individual there who was out of
the competition and who could see everything, I could enjoy all the
maneuvering and little dramas from above in my stand.  While my libido
might have been involved, my ego wasn't and that was a happy place to be.
 Some of my regulars would have established a talking and joking
relationship with me over time and would let me know what type of man they
particularly enjoyed.  Then from time to time during the evening's
festivities they might look to me with an unspoken question on their faces.
 Had I seen anybody who might interest them come in that they'd missed?  I
could then direct them to the appropriate aisle by subtle or blatant cues
depending on my mood and our level of friendship.  It was sort of like
being a gay Miss Lonleyhearts and being able to see the effect of my
meddling.  If two hot men met because I'd directed them towards each other
and then left together, I'd know that there'd be some spit, sweat and cum
exchanged tonight!

I felt not unlike a mix between a social worker, a madam, and an orchestra
conductor.

When things were slow, I could prop my back against the back of the counter
and check out such of our stock (books, that is) as interested me.  I was
also allowed, as all we clerks were, to take any book or magazine home and
return it when  finished.  Well, back then before the onslaught of AIDS
there was the beginning of a real flowering of Gay life and culture.  We
had novelists and poets publishing.  Not just "crotch novels" but books
with themes that also happened to be gay oriented.  I had been reading one
of these, I don't remember which one.  I feel guilty that I don't remember
the author nor the title because it provided one of my hottest memories of
working in that store.

You see, it was late (or early depending on how you looked at it) one
Saturday morning.  Around 3:45A.M. or so I guess.  And, two young studs
walked into the store.  I could tell instantly, that this was their first
time and that they'd come together.  One was anxiously and happily
experiencing every second as though he were eating a stolen watermelon.
 His buddy was "on guard" and not really happy to be there.  But he was
there to keep his friend from harm.

Through the mists of time, all these years later, I remember them as both
possessed of chiseled faces with the taught skin of youth.  Their bodies
were V shaped and the unconscious spring of the athlete was instantly
visible in their walk.  Oh, yes and they were both very drunk.  That great
leveler of the walls of inhibitions was at work that night.  The explorer
worked his way up each aisle and down its neighbor followed by his buddy
and self-appointed bodyguard, until they'd seen every inch of the store
outside of the porno area which was walled off from the regular
merchandise.

They had arrived long after the biggest part of our rush had ended and most
of the lonely had paired off and gone elsewhere to do what I wished I could
have been doing.  Once the two realized that they'd seen all of the store
outside of the walled off area, they huddled together to consider their
options.  The explorer who was a blond of around six feet in height wanted
to buzz through and check out the real stuff.  He pal wanted to chalk it up
to experience and leave.  Fortunately, as it turned out, the adventurous
guy carried the day.  Off he charged into the porno area.  It was
particularly fun watching him as each thing he was more astounding to him
than the last thing.

I could easily have believed that this was his first foray into the
wonderful world of porno.  He was having a wonderful time.  Like almost all
first-timers, he began in the hetro section and would hold up a magazine
then look over the tops of its pages at the gay magazines.  Finally, he
gave up all pretense and chucked the hetro mags and made a beeline directly
to the gay section.   Now, we had quite an extensive selection of gay
magazines, because as I mentioned we were in a predominantly gay area of
town.  This lad worked his way slowly down the rows of the gay magazines
studying each as if he feared that there'd be mid-term on the subject
tomorrow.  His friend looked but seemed less than pleased.

Let me give you a description of these two young stalwarts.  They were
college students late in their Sophomore year.  If I tell you that they
were rugby players, the cognoscenti among you will instantly understand
all.  They were beautiful.  Their faces were young with tight unblemished
skin.  Their bodies were rigidly muscled and like coiled steel springs.
 The one was a natural blond (as I would find out for sure soon) and the
other had that kind of brown hair that when seen in the right light has
highlights of red in it.  You know?  They both were the stuff of many happy
wet dreams for all their gay acquaintances, I'm sure.

Unfortunately, for the blond as gorgeous as he was there just wasn't much
available to help him out with his obvious desire to take this evening's
experience to the next, the ultimate level.  The combination of his
incredible good looks, which can be intimidating after all, and the stern
visage of his pal had more or less served to make everybody else in the
store veer away from him.  Oh, yes they were all watching his every move
and lusting after him but they were unwilling to take so public a chance of
being shot down in flames.  Fortunately, as earlier noted, I had been
reading a gay themed novel in which the writer had expressed an interesting
way to "break the ice".  I figured, "What the hell, nothing ventured,
nothing gained."  The next time my blond beauty looked at the cashier's
stand I caught his eye and motioned him forward.

With a "what me" sort of innocent little shrug, he came to the stand.  I
leaned forward over the counter and down to the level of his ear and said,
"Pick a number between one and ten.  Any number."  His eyes lit up.  He
loved games.  He looked off into the middle distance and after some thought
came up with a number.  I don't really remember what the number was.  It
wouldn't have mattered.  Any number he picked would have been the lucky
number.  This boy was going to get lucky tonight.

I gave a bravura performance of surprise and elation and congratulated him
on picking the exact lucky number.  Then as he was forming the intention to
ask what he'd won, I beat him to the punch.  "You've just won a blowjob!
 If your friend will stand guard in the cashier's stand, I'll take you back
to the employees only area and deliver it now!"  You should have seen his
face light up.  He was going to have Christmas several months early this
year.  His pal was, by now right beside us.  The blond turned to him and
told him to climb into the cashier's stand and mount guard.  I gave the key
to the blond and told him to let himself  into the back of the store, that
I'd follow him.  "Oh," I said, "while you're waiting for me strip to the
waist, from both ends.  And, then sit on the gift wrapping counter back
there."  There was a moment's surprise on his face, but then what I'd said
registered and he chortled, bobbed his head and gone off to do as told.

I helped his friend enter the stand.  I locked off the register and took
the key.  "Just tell anybody that wants help that I had to go to the
bathroom and will be back as soon as I can.  Nothing they're going to need
at this hour is going to be an emergency.  I toyed with the idea of simply
locking the door and taking him back too, he was that absolutely beautiful
with his dark hair and deep brown eyes set against a pale skin.  But I
decided against trying to do both of them at the same time.  He
acknowledged his instructions and I headed off to do my boy scout good deed
of the day.

The door to the employee area was unlocked and I let myself through then
locked it.  Over against the back wall and seated on the counter was my
very blond rugby player.  He had the look on his face like a four year old
on Christmas morning who on coming into the living room cannot believe that
all this wonderful stuff is just for him!  As I approached he straightened
his back and I had a breathtaking view of his nakedness.  He was
magnificent.  (You know, if I were 'King of the World" I'd pass a law that
certain people who were exceptionally beautiful would be required to go
about their daily lives naked.  There are some whose bodies are such works
of art that covering them is an sin against nature and a crime against
humanity.  My rugby player was such a one.)

Now he was sitting there with all his beauty exposed for my eyes only and I
drank my fill.  I got as drunk on him as he was on beer.  His pecks were
well defined and rose to beautiful nipples which were already erected.
 Arising from his yellow gold bush was a thoroughly respectable six and a
half inch cut cock that fairly made my mouth water.  Suspended below that
cock was a lovely wrinkled bag containing balls a little bit larger than
quails' eggs.  There he sat, absolute perfection and waiting for me.  Yes,
it turned out (no surprise there) that this was going to be his first time
with another man.  I had him slip down to stand on the floor.  He was as
obedient and as joyful as a puppy.  I let my fingers do the walking and
felt all over his body.

I began with his face.  It is strange, but most do not consider their faces
to be erogenous zones.  My fingers traced and memorized every angle and
curve of his face then moved down to his throat and neck.  Slowly, slowly.
 When my fingers and drunk their fill of his neck and throat they moved to
his chest and back.  First, I stood to the side and placed a hand in front
and another behind his back then I let those hands enjoy themselves.  Then
I stood behind him and placed both hands on his chest.  I surveyed his tits
and played with his nipples.  He was alternately moaning, and making little
squeaking noises as each new sensation set fire to the pleasure centers in
his brain.

My hands began their slow descent of his abdomen.  This boy may have fucked
before but nobody had ever made love to his body before.  He was one
massive twanging nerve ending.  I came around in front and instructed him
to close his eyes and then began to caress his back by reaching around.  As
my hands approached the tops of his glutes he began to quiver and I feared
that he might be having a seizure.  I told him to open his eyes which he
did instantly and then I told him to sit again on the edge of the counter.
 He moved immediately to obey and was seated in a flash.  His eyes
sparkled.  Though he was looking at me I got the impression that he was
somehow looking through and beyond me.  Was he seeing his friend currently
guarding the cashiers' stand?  Was he seeing all his rugby pals and
suddenly seeing them in a wholly new light?  Was he communing with
centuries of gay predecessors who'd worshiped at the same shrine and had
experienced the same revelation?  Or was he just so freaking turned on that
he couldn't focus his eyes nor his mind?  Who knows?  Who cares?  I
certainly didn't.  I was playing his body like a violin and having a
wonderful time.

His sweet pale, wondrously pale cock was sticking up out of that incredible
bush.  Had his cock been any harder it might just have spontaneously burst
into tiny pieces.  If ever a guy was ready for a promised blow job, this
guy was he.  His cock had become self decorated with lovely strings and
sheets of pre-cum.  There was pre-cum everywhere.  There was a puddle on
the counter.  There were a series of smaller puddles on the floor and
across the floor laid down as he left the counter then returned to it.
 This boy was productive!

If there'd been more time, I would have sought to prolong the inevitable
for as long as possible.  But there was the store and I never knew when
some friend of the owner might come in and then go running to tell him that
I wasn't at my assigned place and some hunky stranger was. So, finally I
had to finish.

I stepped up between his knees and ran my hands up his legs.  He had that
kind of blond fur on his legs, which really isn't easy to see when you're
looking for it.  You can see it best by looking at it from the side and
watching for the glistening of light as it is bounced off the hair.  I
cupped his scrotum and played with his balls.  Everything was, just like
the baby bear's in Goldilocks' story, just right.  Those sweet orbs moved
in my hand.  The bag felt like velvet.  His cock twitched and throbbed.
 His lower abdomen at that point was concave.  I had his body as my play
toy and we were both loving what I was doing with my toy.

I lowered my face toward his cock and picked up his scent.  He smelled of
soap, sweat, and pre-cum.  Nothing and nobody could have ever smelled
better!  The closer my mouth got to his cock the more it jumped around.
 Each little jump flinging a speck or two of pre-cum here, there and
everywhere.  I stuck out my tongue and touched his cock's head.  He let out
a small sob and was shaken with violent tremors so that once again, I
worried that he might be having a seizure.  He wasn't having a seizure,
just an epiphany.  "Please, oh Please", he hoarsely whispered through teeth
clenched almost as tightly as were his eyes.

I actually had to steady his cock with a hand so that I could get it into
my mouth.  But in it went.  It tasted like the finest delicacy imaginable.
 Perhaps the Greek gods had known of something to compare with his taste,
but surely no one since had approached it and no one ever would. For a
moment or two I just held his cock in my mouth savoring the victory of it.
 Then I bowed to the age old demand, "To the victor go the spoils" and
began a slow rhythm of sucking down and then up, down and then up.  All the
while I was sucking I was trying to caress and make love to his cock with
my tongue as all ten fingers massaged and played with his bag and its
contents.

It wasn't an especially warm night out but he was covered in a thin film of
sweat from his face to his toes which were beginning to curl up.  That was
a telltale sign that I recognized.  It meant that I had teased him too long
and that he wouldn't be able to last much longer.  In his bag I could feel
his balls pulling up toward his body.  The tremors had returned and his
hands were now on my shoulders.  Suddenly his hands left my shoulders and
began to almost pinwheel in space beside my ears.  At the same instant his
beautiful cock swelled up and began to deliver my wages.  He came.  No, he
CAME.  He shot as though he'd never shot before in his life.  I swallowed
and swallowed and swallowed again and yet could feel some of his cum
backing up through my nostrils!  The sensation in my mouth of the
swallowing further heightened his reaction and extended both the duration
of his orgasm and his production.

Finally, alas, he was finished.  There was no more to shoot.  Being ever
thorough, I made sure to clean up my play toy and sucked it clean.  We let
it shrink back within my mouth.  But, finally we had to acknowledge the
obvious.  He was finished.  His first ever male-to-male blow job was over.
 I asked him if he was ok?  The tremors had stopped and he was recovering
his normal state.  I wanted a moment or two more to enjoy his nakedness and
asked him to stand.  I wanted to just drink in his young masculine beauty
as I just drunk in his nectar.  He didn't mind and allowed me to look and
even to touch again here and there as I liked.  Finally, I told him that I
had to get back out to the front of the store and he should get dressed
then lock the door behind him and rejoin his pal and me.

The grin on his face when he rejoined his pal and me, was so wide and so
intense that I was afraid he might be in danger of having muscle cramps.
 But he wasn't.  He was just so thrilled with the experience that he
immediately offered to his pal to take up the guard job and let me take the
pal to the back of the store.  I thought what a nice generous boy he was,
but his pal declined the offer.  They left, but I'm sure that is one blond
rugby player who still hasn't forgotten the night he decided to try it out
and see what it was all about!