Date: Fri, 16 Oct 2009 19:36:01 -0400 (EDT) From: Clark Building Subject: Stuff do to at LAX A couple of year ago I was really horny and thought I would go over to LAX and find a hooker. I had been there before and along Century Blvd and in all the hotel bars, there were attractive prostitutes for the traveling business types coming and going at the airport. Somehow, on that particular night, they must have had a meeting or something, cause they were not around. At my third bar, I just resigned myself to have a drink and forget about it for awhile. Maybe later they would be around, maybe not. It was after ten and I had a long drive home to Long Beach, so I was thinking of departure when a man came over to my table and sat down facing me. I looked around thinking he sat at the wrong table or something, but we were kind of in a corner with mostly unoccupied tables. "What's up," said me all friendly and cheerful. He didn't answer immediately and I was alerted by the hesitation in his response. He didn't appear menacing or threatening, dispite his size. A man much taller and and much younger than me, clearly stronger and more fit. I had more hair. He was balding and the circular fringe was cut short, military sort of. Sport coat, tie, a business type guy. He had brought his drink with him and before he said anything, he took a sip, then said, "Blow job." I took a sip of my drink, in mimic to his gesture, and said, "Fat chance, no hookers around tonight." Somehow I was not prepared for it when he said, "No problem; you're gonna do it." I nearly spit out mid-sip, "W-what?" I mumbled. My mind was suddenly racing. I hadn't touched a man in over ten years. I had thought about it, but I had been straight for a long time. He wasn't waiting for me to ponder or argue, either with him or with myself. "Finish your drink and follow me upstairs," he said quietly and rose to leave. My eyes wide with wonder at his attitude and my failure to object, I downed the last of my Whisky Sour and got to my feet. Not since I was a boy had a grown man so confidently and commandingly made me follow like a puppy. He walked away into the lobby of the hotel. Holding the elevator door for me, we went up, just the two of us, in silence. I stood with my eyes lowered, a reflexive and submissive posture from my youth. I was suddenly aware that I was feeling aroused and hungry for it, this guy just telling me what to do. It was thrilling me. I was mystified at my feelings, and surprised that he could trigger my old cocksucker urges in so simple and quick a manner. Somehow, he knew, or perhaps just guessed, that I was game for it and would not only cooperate, but would obey. It all happened so fast, I reacted, just fell into the role, my old self going down on a man just because he said so. I was not even tempted to resist from the moment I got into that elevator. I never made it home that night. He was tireless and loaded with one mouthful after another. I jacked off while I sucked him sitting on the edge of the bed, me on my knees on the plush carpet. He came almost immediately the first time. We napped for awhile, then he sat on my chest naked on the bed and he fucked my face while I struggled to breathe between thrusts. He knew how to work a cocksucker and I appreciated not only his expertise, but his fine young body and really stiff prick, a nice long one. I like a cock long enough to suck and still have enough to wrap my little hand around. Early morning I went down on him again, number four I believe, and before I left, I tried to get him to tell me how he knew I was willing. He just smiled and said he had a talent for spotting cocksuckers and never had any doubt that I was his. Can't argue with that. He was delicious.