Date: Thu, 24 May 2001 18:37:33 -0700
From: Michael Jones <blatz@sprynet.com>
Subject: Hotel Street Peep Show

I was in Hawaii at the time.  Cruising my favorite peep show on Hotel
Street (downtown Honolulu, a very dirty place). Had sucked off several
other locals that evening (Hawaiians are such a mixed group of people, all
you can tell basically is that they have dark brown skin--except for the
Samoans, of course).  But this one man was probably Portuguese--very dark,
short, huge shoulders and extremely muscular and hairy.  He had a thick
black mustache. He seemed to be there only to watch the pornos, but I
managed to make eye contact with him several times as we gravitated from
booth to booth.  He was so obviously heterosexual that he excited me.  My
favorite encounters are with heterosexual men who are so horny that they
can't turn down a blowjob.

He was obviously getting worked up by the videos, because our eye contact
kept getting longer and longer.  Finally it ended up in a showdown--the two
of us staring at each other at one o' clock in the morning across six feet
of hallway, him standing just outside an end booth. I took the initiative,
moving past him into the end booth, leaving the door open and staring
openly at his bulging crotch.

Finally he couldn't take the thought of what he was passing up any longer,
and even though he had probably never gotten a blowjob from a man in his
life, he couldn't pass up the idea of a good-looking haole boy sucking his
dick.  Prejudice runs rampant in Hawaii even though the population is an
incredible melting pot--I've had locals lining up to stick their dicks in a
haole mouth.

He wedged his huge squat body into the booth, locking the door behind him.
I wasted no time dropping to my knees, undoing his belt, unbuttoning his
fly and unzipping his pants. Without any objection, I slid his pants midway
down his treetrunk thighs, exposing a semi-hard THICK four inches.  Local
Hawaiian men are not hung like elephants, and I have never been able to
deep throat for more than a few seconds, so we got along just
fine. Uncircumsized, like most local men.  I inhaled his cock, taking him
all the way to his thick black pubes, and he finally opened up.

Before I knew what was happening, he had me backed into a corner of the
booth, feeding quarters into the peep show coin slot.  While he flipped
through the various videos, I felt his dick lengthening and thickening in
my mouth.  I was hitting my popper like crazy, and after three or four
hits, he reached down for the bottle.  I think it must have been his first
time.

The reason I think this is because he went berserk. As soon as the rush hit
him, he slammed the back of my head against the wall with his dick, leaning
forward over me until all I could see was his hairy brown belly.  I could
hear him snorting popper again and again, but my universe had been reduced
to the thick six inches of rock-hard veiny portuguese dick that was
pistoning in and out of my mouth with a frenzy. He wasn't scaring me,
because there was no anger in his mouth- raping me; But he had been
transported by lust and popper to another world, and he was well on the way
to the cum of his life--and since he looked to be in his late forties or
early fifties, that would have to be one hell of a cum.

He was now so thick that I could feel both sides of my mouth being
stretched by his fat shaft; his head was much larger, but that was not a
problem; he had no intentions of withdrawing his velvety smooth head as far
as my lips. He was fully engaged in flattening that plum-sized head against
the back of my throat again and again and again, letting out deep gutteral
grunts of pure pleasure in between sniffs of popper. Between every three or
four hits he would remember and offer me the bottle, and it was the rush
that kept me going. Each time I was getting ragged from the mouth fucking
he was giving me, another jolt of popper would make me see colors and
plunge back down on his dick, meeting his upstroke.  He would take the
bottle from my hand immediately and take yet another hit.  After a while I
began to worry about the possibility of his having a heart attack, but he
was much too strong and virile for that.

His coins had long run out and he was still pumping his fat rod in and out
of my mouth, his eyes glued to my face.  He no longer needed an external
fantasy; what was happening here and now was the biggest turn-on he could
imagine. Fortunately the employees at this peep show never came back where
the action was, so although I could hear other cruisers coming and going,
and rattling the door twice a minute, we were pretty much on our own.

He must have fucked my mouth for five solid minutes once that first hit of
popper took hold. It seemed like much much longer, but it couldn't have
been longer than that. During that time, he had pressed forward until I was
no longer on my knees; I had been pushed down in that corner inch by inch
until I was finally laying on my back, with this squat hairy man on his
knees over me, feeding me his dick at will. His dick was by now seven
inches long and more than two inches thick, allowing him to gag me at will.
This he had been doing for some time, forcing the head of his dick up
against the entrance to my throat again and again, only the tightness of
the opening preventing him from sliding his huge purple mushroom head a
good two inches down my throat. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get
that mushroom through my narrow opening. And he tried at least a hundred
times.  Each time would send more tears streaming down my cheeks.  My gag
reflex was in overdrive. By now he was bottoming out, flattening the head
of his cock against that narrow channel of my throat, a full two inches of
shaft still remaining. It was driving him crazy. He wanted it all.

Finally, after what must have been his 20th hit of popper in five minutes,
(which would have been enough to kill me) He grunted and slammed the head
of his cock against the back of my throat for the umpteenth time, but this
time he stayed there, pushing and kneading the head of his dick until it
finally squeezed through the narrow channel, and his bulbous purple head
popped into my nearly-virginal throat. This of course meant that the two
inches of shaft around the base of his cock finally found a home, sliding
between my lips for the first time since the very beginning of this
blowjob.

Now that he had me helplessly pinned to the floor with the head of his cock
down my throat, he wasn't about to let me go.  Snorting popper through his
distended nostrils, he rammed his cock in measured two inch strokes down my
throat, never allowing his dickhead to retreat past the territory he had
won with such determination. He must've known that I couldn't take such
treatment indefinitely, because with a final gasp and a forward thrust of
his hips, he pinned my head back against the wall, stopping all movement.
For the very first time he spoke to me in a deep, gutteral voice.

"I'm pumping cum down your throat." was all he said.

Of course, I already knew this.  The thick base of his shaft had already
tensed up and pulsed twice before he made this declaration. I could feel
his sperm sliding thick and solid down my throat before he ever declared
his intentions. I didn't need to take any voluntary action at this point;
the volume of his load was forcing involuntary swallows from me each time
he filled up my throat, which was occurring on every spurt. His spurts were
huge and glorious; This fifty-year old man was emptying his balls in a way
he hadn't enjoyed since his teens; and we both were digging it.

Not to say that I wasn't in enormous discomfort; I hadn't taken a full
breath in at least a minute, and my gag reflex was still causing tears to
run down my face in two steady streams. But knowing what he was doing to me
in this once-in-a-lifetime encounter more than made up for the gagging and
choking. Especially once he explained what he was doing to me.

I took his pumping, swallowing convulsively again and again.  He shot and
shot, snorting one last bolt of popper midway through his orgasm that sent
him into a final frenzy five seconds later, still throbbing and pumping cum
down my throat.  By now I was flat on my back, my head and neck at a 90
degree angle, covered from head to foot in sweat. All I could see was his
dense black bush and his hairy treetrunk thighs as they spasmed and
continued to pump. I must have taken more than an ounce of thick ropes of
cum.

I sucked a lot of men off that evening, but this encounter is the only one
I still remember.


I hope you liked this.

Continue to send me fan mail and I'll send you another.