Date: Fri, 7 Jun 2002 22:00:45 EDT
From: NJRimzu@aol.com
Subject: Tales of The Reservation, Chapter 7  [Gay-Encounters]

The Reservation

Near where I live is a huge county park with a cruising area that has been
active for years. I have had many exciting experiences there, and many not
so exciting. I thought I would share a few of the more fun times. Some of
these are entirely true, some are based on true experiences with a little
`embellishment', and some have a bit of truth and a lot of fantasy. If you
are under age, or live in an area where reading tales of male sex is
illegal, or if you're not into this, please leave. Otherwise, I hope you
enjoy at least some of these stories. Some of these took place in a time
when all sex was safe and some when precautions must be taken. Please
respect yourself and others enough to always play safe.  Comments are
appreciated.


Straight Blowjob

I saw him as he got out of his car. About 28, 5'11", 160, dark hair, dark
eyes, wearing a jogging suit. I'd been cruising the area for over half an
hour and had seen no one. The place was completely dead, in spite of the
weather not being bad. His was the first car to pull into the back lot.
Which didn't necessarily mean anything about him. Lots of families park
there to use the picnic area. And joggers and bikers sometimes leave their
cars there. Usually, when single guys park there, it's obvious what they
are there for. But this guy had `straight' written all over him. Something
about his clothes and the way he wore them, something about his hair. I
don't know. It's not like the woods at the reservation are some kind of
fashion show, with only the hottest trendiest looks on display. You see
guys wearing just about anything there. But there was something that
definitely did not say `gay' about him.

But, after locking up his car, instead of jogging on down the road as I
expected, he walked over to the main trail leading into the woods. I
started to follow at a slight distance and he turned down a smaller path.
He finally reached a small boulder and turned around and just leaned back
against it. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his pants with his
hands framing his crotch. And then just stood there. He didn't look at me,
although I was only 20 feet or so away, but he just stared off into the
woods. We both just stood there for a while, neither making a move. There
was this little argument going on in my head.

"He's so obviously straight."

"Then what's he doing here?"

"But he isn't even looking at me. He can't be interested."

"But he's standing there, posing, and you're the only one around. Doesn't
that say something?"

"But I'm no good at making the first move, especially when it isn't obvious
it would be welcome."

`Well. He certainly isn't going to make the first move, and how long do you
expect him to just stand there waiting?"

So, I took a deep breath and walked up to him, stopping about a foot in
front of him, grasping for an opening line. Instead, he lifted his hands,
placed them on my shoulders and started pushing down, very firmly, very
steadily. Being an agreeable kind of guy, I soon found myself on my knees
in from of him. He pulled down the front of his jogging pants, exposing an
ample semi-hard dick and two beautiful balls. He hooked the elastic
waistband of his pants under his balls, placed one hand on the back of my
head and the other on his dick and guided the two together. I opened my
mouth and his dick slid in. I licked around his head and sucked lightly on
it, feeling his cock growing in my mouth, becoming more engorged, working
its way back toward my throat.

In a few minutes, he was fully erect. He placed both hands on the back of
my head and, by pulling with his hands and thrusting slightly with his
hips, he began to fuck my mouth, gently and slowly at first, then harder
and faster. Up until this point, he hadn't said a word. But now he started
getting talkative.

"Oh yeah, faggot, suck that dick." "Take it all, swallow it." You know you
need it, suck it." "You like a big one like this. I can tell. Take it, suck
it." "Your mouth is just a pussy and right now its mine." "You're never
gonna forget this fuck." "I'm gonna fuck this mouth pussy and you're gonna
want more."

He just went on and on with his comments, and went on and on with his mouth
fucking.  It had to be 20 minutes. My jaw was aching, I was having a little
trouble breathing, but he just kept going. Finally, his breathing got
heavier and his balls started pulling up close to his dick. And his
monologue continued; though slightly different.

"Awww! I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum in your mouth pussy, you fag boy. Here
it comes."

And with that I tasted the first hot shot of his sperm, hitting my tongue,
filling my mouth.  "Eat that cum, faggot! Suck me dry. Swallow my load.
Suck every drop out of me."  And I kept sucking and swallowing, doing
exactly as he insisted, exactly as I wanted.  Finally, he finished coming
and pulled his dick from my mouth. Very slowly, very deliberately, he wiped
his dick across my right cheek, then my left, cleaning off whatever was
left on it. Then he pulled out the waistband of his pants, let his dick and
balls back inside, and walked away without a word, back up the trail to the
parking lot. And I just knelt there for a minute, wondering if my jaw would
ever be the same, savoring the taste of a few drops still in my mouth.

Was he really straight? I don't know. Do totally straight guys ever do
things with other guys? I don't think so. But it was definitely one-sided.
It was all about him. Like he said, I was just a mouth pussy, and for that
moment, I was his. And while I usually like a little reciprocation, I
really enjoyed it. And he tasted so damn good.