Inner City I

Being a single regular guy in my early thirties who like to think he's a simple working stiff with an achin' dick just like every other guy, I like other regular guys. I'm kind of slim, flat stomach, a little fuzzy butt and was a teenage swim-team champ, but nowadays I'm just one of those regular joes you meet on the bus going home.

One of the things I like about living near downtown is that it's a mix of people. I live in a combination of business and residential, apartments and houses. For decades my neighborhood, while genteely improverished, has served as the home for the working class. Mine is a combination of immigrant latino single men, here while they earn money to send home, and a combination of Asians now in their second and third generations as well as bachelor black laborers and groups. You're as likely to be on the bus with a handsome well-built black man of forty as with a hip-hop Cambodian teenager or a darkly romantic little Nicaraguan or perhaps a vato chicano with jeans down to his ass.

All these horny single guys make for a great romantic combination anytime you're in public, whether it's on the public transit, waiting at a stop, in a convenience store or in a Laundromat.

I like Laundromats, especially on Sundays and especially holidays in summer months when the well-built sturdy laborers are trying to wash all their clothes, being reduced to cutoffs or too-small cotton pants, and no underwear, that show off their considerable assets.

One Labor Day, I remember, I needed to travel next day so I did my load of underwear and socks. The only other guy in there was an unshaven but very hairy young latino, no more than five foot-six, medium dark skin punctuated with dark straight hair. I could picture his pubes, all spiky and dark, around his fat uncut cock. Or, as I enjoyed another such day, maybe his dick would be the width of my hand but only five inches, like a cannonball in my mouth and full of come.

His eyes met mine, we nodded the way two guys off work do; then, I noticed he kept spreading his legs rhythmically until it caught my notice as his package got perceptibly larger in the worn pants he had on. He stretched, innocently, and I got a glimpse of smooth brown stomach, no underwear. Then, looking at me with a grin, he hoisted his ass up and took his bouncy walk back to the restroom and vanished.

Now, I made sure my laundry was safe first. Then I sort of wandered over to the video game next to the john; I noticed the door wasn't completely closed and I could see, if I tried, through the crack: an arm moving rapidly up and down, it's bare cinnamon skin over small but ample muscles. Pushing the door open a crack wider, still making sure I wasn't being watched in the store, I could now see him in the mirror on the wall: eyes shut, jacking a thick dark cockhead in his busy fingers, smoothing the pre-cum all over his aching head and pushing his hips forward, fucking his hand.

He heard me open the door and shut it behind me; his eyes flew open but when he saw me he didn't even miss a jerk; he just grinned. I reached down and whispered, "permiteme ayudarte?" or "let me help you?" and that's just what he did.  I stood behind him and he leaned back into me, his arms at his side as I massaged his ample bicep with one hand and filled my other with what felt like a pint of pre-cum, all glassy smooth on his thick creamy cockhead.

"Ahh!, si! Come me!" Eat me! He begged and I dropped to my knees as he undid his zipper and his beautiful little ballsac popped out, covered in whispy black hairs. I sucked his balls first; he opened his legs at this and I pulled his pants down to his ankles, getting my tongue up into the fragrant muscular ass, while skinning back his sticky wet pecker. All this time, he was writhing under my pinching fingers and I stuck one up his willing asshole; it was tight and hot and suddenly his cum gushed into my throat as he held my head firmly, pumping into me over and over, "Ahh! Come! Come la crema! Eat the cream!" I was sure his groans and my ample slurping of his substantial load was going to bring a visitor.

He pried himself, still hard, out of my mouth and crammed it into his tight little jeans, zipping up precariously. I was still on my knees, breathless, when he left. When I got up and washed my hands, his taste lingering on my tongue, I found I was alone in the laudromat. So I resumed reading.

For about ten minutes; by the time my stuff was in the dryer, I was up against the bathroom wall again with a mature lean black man, beard scruffing against my ear as he pumped my ass up his ten-inch dick and jacked me with his hands, "Whiteboy ass! Man, that's good pussy, lemme fuck this hot tight hole all day! Man! I'm gonna come! Shit, that's some nut ya got me bustin'! Shit! Fuck that dick, man!" ooooh, he came for about five minutes. Then he left that hard hammer up there and jacked me off all over the sink. When we cleaned up, he kissed me and got my number. This time I had to go next door to the store for a soda.

When I got back, my black pal was packing to leave but he grinned and said, "hey that was a great piece `o ass, man, ya gotta get mah nut again real soon, y'hear?" I laughed and said I'd be happy to oblige. When he left, I noticed a small Asian, dressed in a combo of black hiphop and underwear only a teenager can wear, studying our conversation. When I smiled at him, however, he scowled like any other kid and went back to his magazine.

However, as I came back from checking my dryer I could notice out of the corner of my eye that he was suddenly relaxing, leaning back in his seat so he could splay his legs, which were obviously very muscular even in the baggy jeans. When he got up to check his washer, his pants fell to reveal some very curvy boxers on a tiny cute butt. He kept them from falling but sure let me get an eyeful of everything else. His body was crisp, obviously hairless and muscular.

To check the situation out, I studiedly went over to the video game and checked it out, then went into the men's room without closing the door completely. Sure enough, since he was up, he sauntered slowly over not wanting to appear interested. Still, I could tell he was looking through the crack in the door so I gave him a little something to look at: I pulled my big ol' peter out and let it get half-hard.

That brought the door open and, looking over his shoulder, he came in quickly and shut and locked the door. "Lemme suck that, man" is all he said and dropped to his knees and took my nine inches into his mouth, then suddenly swallowed it. I almost fell down it felt so good; I reached down to pinch his tight little nipples which I could see were hard as stone in his tee-shirt.

As I pinched, he groaned and pulled out a tight little golden pecker that looked like it might explode. He didn't touch himself (for fear?) and I kept fucking his mouth. He liked it when I held his head in both hands and fucked him, talking gently" Yeah, li'l bro, suck that big white dick, lick the head, taste that cum? Yeah, tastes good, don't it? Yeah, now swallow it all the way down, damn! You're good, you're gonna get my nut, make me cum, suck the cum, eat my dick, DAMN! I'm cumin in that hot mouth, yeah swallow it, lick it all up, thatta boy."

And when I came, he was still sucking on my dick when I put two hands under his arms and bodily pulled him off my dick and kissed him hard, tongue in my own cum before I dropped down and, hand on his little butt, pushed his tight little pecker into my mouth, full of spit and my own cum and he blasted a nut, holding onto my head and fucking it for all he was worth. His little butt was like a machine "Oh man, suck that dick, make me come mister!" Ohh! Aaaaaaah, I'm comin'!" and he shot and shot, maybe a dozen times.

As we grinned and cleaned up, he relaxed. "I never got sucked off before, thanks that was great" all rushed out. I was so amazed at his skills at sucking cock and how cute he was, I couldn't imagine him not getting the same treatment. "Man," I said, "you need to try that out some more, then". We both laughed. I shared SoulDad's phone number with him and said that he could enjoy both of us that evening; we made a date and I collected my clean socks and went home happy, ready to repeat it that evening.

Next time, I'll probably have to tell you about the bus, the bus driver and how I got half-fare.