Date: Sat, 2 Jun 2007 06:24:00 -0700
From: Mike Jones <blatz1@roadrunner.com>
Subject: Sucktales 3

I am really gratified at the number of positive responses I've received in
only a couple of days.  I had a request from a reader.  I would like to
submit this tale next.

Sucktales 3

As with all my stories, the only deviation from the truth is caused by my
memory.

This tale takes place in a Las Vegas peep show.  There are several peep
shows in Vegas that are much grittier than the ones down close to the strip
where the tourists go.  The locals head up to North Las Vegas, The bad part
of town.  Some tourists in the know go to the crisscross of filthy streets
where there are three or four bookstores, but mostly local white trash men,
married straight middle-class locals, street people and hispanics.

This particular day I was cruising in the afternoon at my favorite
bookstore. The booths formed an "L" shape, with the curtained entrance at
the base of the L.  No one gave a rats ass what was going on back there, or
even if the red light was on. Employees only came back to the booths to
clean up the puddles of cum. I had sucked off each of the employees in
turn, some of them several times.

Some strange city regulation had caused all the peep shows to either remove
their doors, or in this case, remove the lower half of the door.  The top
half latched.  A ridiculous concept.

I didn't care about the top half anyway.  On any given day, you could walk
into the dark peepshow section and see the bottom half of three or four
men, their dicks in their hands jerking off.  Removing the bottom half of
the doors improved the cruising immensely.

Stepping up to a stall where a man was pulling on a hard (or soft) dick,
one only had to pull your own dick out and join them. The top half of the
door would be immediately unlatched.  Sometimes with an obstinate stranger,
I would have to duck down under the door and join them. The other way to
hook up was to be in the booth, with a stranger standing outside, pants
around his ankles or unzipped. I sucked dozens of dicks without ever seeing
a face in this fashion. But dozens more stepped inside and latched the
half-door.

Today I ran into an obstinate stranger.  Ducking through the curtains, I
stopped for a few seconds to let my eyes adjust to the dark.  Leaning
against the wall in the middle of the peepshow, was a black man in his
forties, wearing a brown felt hat.  It was pulled down low over his eyes,
and he seemed to be just watching whatever was going on.  He glanced at me
and smiled, then gave me no further notice.

I went left down the long side of the "L", and found that the eight booths
were empty except for the last one on the left.  There I saw a pair of
dirty, faded work jeans.  The thick thighs were spread wide, and he was
unzipped.  He was wearing very old brown work boots.  A thick, hairy brown
hand was squeezing a fat semihard dick even darker than his hand.  Thick,
black foreskin covered the head of his dick. He was not jacking off, merely
watching a video and squeezing his fat dick in the middle with a heavy
workers hand.  I wanted that.

Time to step up to the plate. I stood outside his stall and unzipped.  My
limp white dick flopped out and I jerked on it. No reaction. I looked over
at the black man in the felt hat, and he was smirking. While I watched he
took out a crack pipe and took a hit. I could hardly be judgmental. I
myself was high on meth, had several beers in me and a bottle of popper in
my pocket.  Note: I have aged twenty years since the last Sucktale. This
was a request, remember.

I peeked under the upper half of the door and saw a stocky mexican with a
coyboy hat.  He was probably in his fifties even though his hair was jet
black.  His face was ugly and deeply lined, darker than any other part of
his body except his dick.

He looked back at me with total indifference.  It was apparent he didn't
jerk off when he was alone, because he wasn't very good at it.  All he did
was slowly squeeze that thick cock every few seconds.  It looked like he
had a nearly limp six inches in his hand.  I was drooling.

I decided I was going to do whatever I wanted until he stopped me.  I
slowly ducked under the door and dropped to my knees in front of him.  I
took a huge hit off the popper, and offered it to him.  No response.  I
lowered my head and took his foreskin into my mouth, his beefy hand still
wrapped about the shaft of his cock. He reached into the pocket of his
faded red and white plaid work shirt and fed a dollar into the machine,
never looking at me.  I took that for a sign.

I shoved my tongue into his foreskin, the popper exploding in my head.  I
probed around the head of his cock, not knowing or caring if it was coated
with head cheese.  I doubted it.  He smelled fine.  After about ten seconds
of my tongueing and mouthing the head of his cock inside his foreskin, he
removed his hairy hand.  I had been granted entrada.

I dove on his fat cock, my lips scraping his zipper. The mustachioed, ugly
mexican continued to stare at the video, changing channels with one hand.

I sucked him til the popper wore off, then took another big hit and dove
back down.  I have long ceased such dangerous activity, but fortunately I
survived and have some unique memories.  I have enjoyed Nifty for years and
I'm glad I can give something back.

All of this enthusiastic sucking was having a definite effect on the
mexican.  His fat dick expanded in my mouth like a balloon and by the time
the second hit wore off his foreskin was bunched around the base of a fat,
mottled dickhead. His piss slit was large enough to insert the first inch
of my tongue. His fat thighs quivered every time I snaked my tongue deep
into that slit. By this time I had an audience.  Besides the crackhead with
the hat, I saw someone standing outside the stall, squeezing a bulge in
their pants.  Nothing above their waist was visible.  I really loved this
place.

The mexican was fully hard now and leaking precum from the dime-sized slit
in his dick.  It was sweet and I savored it.  The third and fourth time I
took a hit, I offered it to him and he still ignored me.  He continued to
watch movies, feeding in dollars and changing channels.  It was like I
wasn't there.

This was all OK with me.  He was leaking precum continuously when he
finally reached down with a callused hand and took the bottle of popper
from me.  He took a huge liquid snort up each nostril and handed it back to
me.  I immediately did the same.

About one second later, I dove on his shiny brown cock and he leaned
forward and took my head in both hands.  For about thirty seconds we worked
as a single unit, him thrusting forward from the plastic chair, pistoning
his fat beercan into my mouth, holding me in place with both hands.  I
cooperated completely, working his cock with my lips and tongue, swallowing
the precum.  The guy outside was now jacking off, and I could see that the
black man was standing just behind him, not touching his cock at all.

I was expecting a huge cum and I was not disappointed.  Being ready for it,
I had no problem taking his first enormous wad in my mouth.  I figured that
with the lack of emotion that he had displayed to this point, he would give
no outward indication that he was going to cum.  But after ten minutes of
sucking I was hypersensitive to his dick. He went rock hard for the first
time, seconds later I felt his doorknob sized head swelling in my mouth, as
he positioned me at the halfway point on his cock.  Don't have to be a
rocket scientist.

I took his huge wad right in the middle of my tongue, where he wanted it.
I looked up at his ugly sweating face and smiled around his cock as I
swallowed it.  He squeezed his eyes shut and pumped another load into my
mouth just as big.  With the popper exploding in both our minds, he pumped
five thick wads into my mouth, slowly and with no facial expression.  I
swallowed each one individually. His egg-sized balls were moving up and
down in his wrinkled scrotum the whole time.

He only let me milk his softening cock for a couple of seconds before
gently pushing me back and tucking his dick into his pants.  I immediately
stood up, not wishing to intrude on his space any longer, and tucked my own
dick back into my pants. The guy outside also tucked his dick into his
pants.  I slipped the latch and exited on the mexican, who was zipping up
and standing up.

The guy outside was an asian, thin black hair and glasses. His brown eyes
stared at me inscutably, revealing nothing of what he had seen.  I walked
past him to the black man, who was now returning to the same spot where I
had first seen him, facing the other four stalls in the "L".

In the last stall was another crackhead.  This one was a yellowish-skinned
black man. He appeared to be younger than the other man, perhaps his late
thirties.  But his life on the street and the crack pipe in his hand had
done quite a number on his face. Besides the wrinkles he was covered with
freckles. all over. And concentration camp thin. Yummy.

I could see his face because the door was open halfway.  His pants were
down around his ankles, he was holding a bic to the crackpipe and his long
limp yellow sausage dangled between his legs.  The other black man looked
at him, looked at me and smirked.  He knew what was going to happen.

I didn't even have to take out my dick until I was already on my knees.
The crackhead turned his head to look at me and I knew right away I was
welcome.

I kneeled between his bony yellow legs and took that limp dick of his, all
eight inches of it.  Its been my experience that crackheads don't get very
hard, although they get extremely horny.  Much like me when I'm on meth.

But just like me, when they finally work up a cum, they shoot across the
room.  I was looking forward to it.

I knew I would have to suck him for a long time, and was looking forward to
this also.  The black man in the hat had moved to just outside the stall,
leaning against the wall.  The door was blocking his view, so I generously
pushed it completely open, never missing a stroke. The asian man was
watching me farther down, squeezing his dick.  And he had been joined by a
skinny, nasty looking white man in a ballcap.

I hoped they were enjoying the show.  With frequent hits of popper, I was
going down on the redbone emaciated crackhead totally oblivious to anything
else.  He refused the popper, but took frequent hits from his pipe while I
sucked him.  The other black man was also hitting his pipe.  The two other
observers had their dicks out and were jacking each other off.

After the first few minutes, I was the one feeding dollars into the
machine.  One hell of a deal, I thought.  I didn't care if it took him
twenty minutes to cum, the experience of sliding his long black dick down
my throat again and again and again still totally limp was all I wanted.
The mental stimulation of sucking off a crackhead in smelly ragged clothes
in the filthiest peepshow in Las Vegas was the absolute ultimate. And being
watched while I'm doing it....

The crackhead smiled and babbled comments to encourage me; "Suck it Baby."
"Um...that's some good shit."  "You love that dick, don't cha Baby." and
other shit like that. He appeared semiconscious most of the time. But he
was much more proactive that the mexican had been. Mexican men feel less
macho when a man is sucking their dick--they pretend to ignore it. But
black men know better. They're a lot more certain of their masculinity.  I
was a career sailor and I've fucked some of the finest pussy in the world,
but I've also sucked the finest dick.  The dick was always free and easier
to get, which is why I have had so much more dick.

Finally his dick hardened up, and he put his hands on my head and pumped
his cock into my mouth with irregular jerks.  "Gonna cum now. Gonna cum."
He kept mumbling. The other black man was now squeezing a long bulge in his
loose pants. I could clearly see the head of his dick outlined in his
pants.  As for the other two spectators, the forty-ish white trash guy with
the ballcap was now on his knees with the ballcap turned around, sucking
the beercan dick of the twenty-something chubby asian with the glasses.

His head swelled, and he shot ten incredibly violent shots of watery cum
down my throat at the rate of two per second. He tried to force me down to
the base of his cock, but I rode him at the halfway point, hoping to take
his cum on the back of my tongue.  But he disappointed me, his wads
exploding deep in the back of my throat--still, a lot of it splashed
backwards onto my tongue, where it was tasted, savored and swallowed. He
grunted several times when he shot his larger wads and his legs were
spasming uncontrollably each time he grunted.

I sucked him long after he went totally limp.  He would probably had been
happy with being sucked for the rest of the afternoon, but I had customers
waiting outside.

Stepping outside the stall, I felt no need to zip up.  White trash and the
asian were back to pumping their cocks, and with the asians fat hardon it
was obvious that the white trash had not sucked him off.  More for me. The
black man with the hat was slouching against the wall, closest to me.  His
eyes gleamed in the darkness under the brim of his hat.  I stared at the
fat bulge in his pants and the doorknob sized head as he squeezed it with
one hand, and he motioned me forward with the other.

I wasted no time dropping to my knees once again, and fished for the tab of
his zipper. I unzipped and a jet-black circumsized cock popped out of his
pants, and I slid my lips over the surprisingly pink doorknob.

Remember that he was also a crackhead, and his dick was not all that hard.
He was much blacker, however, and looked like a pimp.  The other two
watchers eyes bulged as I lovingly sucked the fat black cock through his
pants.

He was either hornier or had been there quite a while.  Or maybe I had
turned him on with the previous performances, proving to him that I was
definitely not a racist.  At any rate, after only two popper hits, he took
a hit from his pipe, reached out with both hands and slammed me down onto
the base of his dick.

Fortunately for me he was a soft six inches, but very thick.  His
eight-ball sized dickhead swelled until it filled the entrance to my
throat, and he came.

And came.  And came some more.

What I had not expected was the unearthly howls and bellowing.  He
announced his cum like he didn't give a fuck.  Under his hat, his face was
sweating and his eyes were rolled back.  He had me locked to his belly and
was pumping big, slow wads of cum down my throat.  His dickhead, as I
mentioned earlier, was positioned right at the entrance to my throat.  He
completely bypassed my tongue.  My reflexive swallowing was the only
indication I had of the enormous wad he was shooting. It was warm and
thick.

His howling made it sound like someone was being murdered back in the peep
show.  I was growing increasingly alarmed, as were the two watchers. I was
being held firmly in place on the throbbing black dong, and couldn't do
anything but accept his cum. Lucky me.

I have no idea how much he came.  I know that he moaned and grunted and
howled like an animal for at least thirty seconds. By the time he was
drained I was growing desperate for air.  He finally released me and I
stood up, his limp black dick dangling shiny and wet, completely satisfied.
The other two guys were still there, their eyes telling me they were as
alarmed as I was but still up for anything.  I had had enough dick at this
point, so I passed up the two remaining and opted for safety, slipping out
the back door.

How was that, Kreg? Did I meet or exceed your request?

Til next time.

Blatz