Date: Tue, 7 Jul 2020 00:13:21 -0700 From: Spike Meyers Subject: Taco Tuesday, 1 of 1, gay, masturbation Donate: Please consider donating to this website. Without your donations, Nifty may not be able to keep this site up and running for your reading pleasure. Whatever you can afford will be appreciated. Notice: This story is a work of fiction and contains explicit sexual material. It may also include, incest, sex between a minor(s) and an adult males(s), and sexual fetish. If you are offended by such material, do not read this work of fiction. The character(s) in this work are not based on any known person(s). Taco Tuesday When I was young, I did not like "Mexican" food much. My first experience with it was at my neighbor's house down the street. We went to school together for years. He invited me to a pool party one weekend. I eagerly accepted since we didn't have a pool. Anyway, at this pool party, his mom had made the usual fare, hamburgers, hot dogs, you know, the usual stuff. But in addition to that, she also made tacos. I am sure it was one of those store-bought mixes of spice powder that you throw into the pot with the hamburger. I was about 10 at the time, and I never had a taco. I asked Ricky, my friend, what that bowl of stuff was. I thought that perhaps it was Sloppy Joe's. "It's taco meat silly! Haven't you ever had a taco before? He asks. "No. I haven't" I said. "I never had a taco before." His mom was standing close by and heard what I said. "Benjamin" she said, "you have never had a taco? Would you like me to make one for you?" I nodded my head yes and said, "Yes, lease." "Alright then," she says. "I will make one just for you," she said with a smile. I watched her make the taco, place it on a paper plate, along with a paper napkin. I took the plate she handed me, and studied the taco, trying to figure out how best to eat it. I have seen them before on TV, but having never eaten one before, I was not sure how to go about it. My parents were strictly the meat and potatoes kind of people; they didn't even eat fish. She saw my hesitation, "Here" she says, "Just pick it up and take a bite of it from the end." I could smell the spices from the taco as I brought it to my mouth. I took a bite and the taco shell crumbled in my hand. Some of it fell onto the paper plate, however, most of it, fell to the ground below. I looked at her with surprise. She started to laugh and said, "Sorry Ben, I should have warned you about that. They crumble easily. Let me make you another one," she says as she bends down to pick up the remnants of my taco out of the grass. "No thanks, Mrs. Davies" I said. "I think I'll just have a hot dog." She looked up at me from her kneeling position in the grass and said, "Oh, OK then. It's alright Benny; not everyone likes tacos." I was not impressed with tacos. I just did not care for the taste; it was probably all the spices I didn't like. It was just not for me. Now that I am in my early forties, I love Mexican food. I learned that the taco mix you buy at the supermarket does not constitute Mexican food. Real Mexican food is awesome; I could eat it every day. There are several Mexican restaurants where I live. Almost all of them have Taco Tuesday. Every Tuesday, tacos are either two for one, or $1.00 tacos. Each place is a little different, but the key is, tacos are on special price. On my way back from the car wash one early afternoon, it dawned on me that it was Tuesday. I was between jobs at the time. I decided to go to my favorite taco place. This particular place is very small and family owned and operated. Their dining room only accommodates about 25 people maximum. All they do are tacos, taco salads, and burritos. They have all of the usual flavors: chicken, steak, fish, hamburger, pork, chorizo, and of course, veggie. I love the fish tacos; having tried every flavor at least once, they are absolutely, without a doubt, the best thing on the menu. They use ono and not cod. I always get it blackened. Damn it's so good! I pulled into their parking lot. They must not be that busy because the parking lot did not have many cars. The drive thru was pretty busy though. I parked my nice, clean car and headed to the front door of the restaurant. As I opened the door, the high-powered fan engaged to keep out the bugs. I hate those things; they are so annoying. I quickly closed the door behind me so the fan would go off. I learned from numerous visits that as soon as the door closes, the fan turns off. I approach the counter as I am pushing the hair from my face, the fan having a Phyllis Diller effect on my locks. I ordered the fish tacos and a Horchata (the "H" is silent). Horchata is a traditional Mexican drink made up of white rice soaked in water, it's flavored with cinnamon and its sweetened with granulated sugar. I love it. They make their own their and it is to die for. I always get it in a to go cup so I can get a refill on my way out of the restaurant. This place had a total of 5 booths that were aligned in an "L" pattern, and a few tables on the dining room floor. Since I was by myself, I selected a small, 2-person table across from the booth on the end. In a few minutes, I heard them call out my name. As I started to get up to fetch my order, I saw Camila, the owner, tray in hand, step out from behind the counter. She looked at me, nodded her head towards the tray, and smiled. I immediately sat back down. She approached my table, and set the tray down in front of me. "Enjoy" she said, and smiled again. "Oh, I will" I said in response. "I always do". I had just finished my first taco. I satisfied my hunger after I finished the first one, but they are so good, I intended to eat the second one anyway. I took a sip of my drink and saw two guys walk into the restaurant together. As the door slowly closed behind them, they took a couple of steps forward towards the counter and stopped to wipe the hair from their faces. I hear the older of the two say, "God damned things!" I thought perhaps they were father and son. As they stepped up to the counter, I noticed that the younger man looked cute from behind. He was dressed in a black, button-down shirt that seemed to be tailored just for him. He wore a pair of light-beige Levi slacks and black penny-loafers, no socks. His Levi's fit him perfectly; not too tight and not too lose. I could see the shape of his yummy looking butt: nice, round, and perky. He sported a black, leather belt around his narrow waist. It took several minutes for them to order. The older gentleman could not decide what he wanted. Fortunately, there was no one behind them so they were not holding up the order queue. I took another sip of my drink and continued to cruise the younger man. After placing their order, they turn around and scan the dining room selecting a place to sit. I saw the younger man, point to the last booth, diagonally across from me, but two tables up. As they turned around, I got a good front-view look at the younger man. He had short, dark hair, a little graying at the temples. He was clean shaven and very handsome. He was a couple of years older than me, but not much. I noticed a subtle bump in front of his pants. My cock twitched. As they started their walk towards the booth, the younger man grabbed the older man's arm, walking side-by-side. He held on to the older man's arm until he was firmly seated. As he released the man's arm, he glanced over in my direction and caught me watching him. He smiled, nodded his head towards me, and slid into the booth, facing me. He looked over at me again, this time I smiled at him nodding my head. Turning his attention back to his friend, he leaned slightly towards him, and said something. I could not hear what he said. The older man responded; he obviously had no problem hearing. The younger guy sat back in the booth, spreading his legs wide under the table as he settled in. I had a good view of his crotch as I continued to cruise him. After a few minutes, I hear Teresa, from behind the counter call out, "Tony! Your order is ready." He slides out of the booth, stands, adjusts his pants, and walks over to the counter to fetch his order. He looks over in my direction as he begins the short walk to the counter, and catches me staring at his crotch. I was a little embarrassed, but, then I thought, what the fuck! He returns to the booth with the tray. He sits the tray down onto the table, and slides his butt into the booth. I am so focused on this guy, my dick is half hard, I have completely forgotten about my other taco. I see him remove items from the tray and place them on the table. He sits the tray aside as he settles back in the booth, once again, spreading his legs wide apart. He looks over towards me again, and our eyes lock. I looked directly at him, returning his stare, and dropped my hand in my crotch. I was wearing a black tank top, and sweat pants shorts. Unless I am at work, I don't wear underwear. I saw him follow my hand down to my crotch with his eyes. I wrapped my hand over my half hard cock so he could see the outline thru the worn fabric. He continued to stare at my crotch but no facial expression at all. I had no idea if he was gay; I could not tell. My gaydar was just not working that day. He brought his attention back to his booth mate. I continued to fondle my hardening cock thru the fabric. He suddenly looked back over at me. I was still clutching my hard cock over my shorts. I slid my hand under my shorts and pulled the fabric to the side, letting the head of my cock poke out. He did not take his eyes off my crotch. I pulled the fabric back completely exposing my entire cock. I was rock hard. I applied a little downward pressure, and waved my cock side-to-side. I wanted him to see how hard I was. As I was bouncing my stiff cock off my inner thighs, he started to extract himself from the booth. He walked towards the counter. My heart was in my throat. "Shit!" I said to myself. "What the fuck is he going to do? Is he going to tell the owner I exposed myself? Is he going to tell them to call the cops?" I was just about shitting myself. He walked up to the self-serve area at the counter and grabbed some napkins. When I saw him walk away from the counter, I was so relieved. He started walking in my direction. He approached my table, bent over and whispered, "If I weren't with my friend, I would be really, really, enjoy this little show of yours. Now, thanks to you, I am going to be frustrated and horny all afternoon!" he said with a smile. He turned and walked back to his booth. As he walked away, I wanted to yell "Wait! Wait! Meet me in the bathroom. I'll suck you off." I am such the slut. I really wanted this guy. He slid back into the booth. Realizing that I was not going to have an opportunity to get naked with this guy, I put my dick away. Now, I too, was going to be frustrated and horny all afternoon. I looked over at him after I put my dick away. He gave me this little frown, as if to say, why the fuck did you do that? I see him staring down at my crotch. I pulled my now, half-hard dick back out of my shorts. I pulled my shorts completely to the side, so my balls were hanging out too. I see a slight smile at the corner of his mouth. This gave me all the encouragement that I needed. I wrapped my hand around my stiffening cock and began to slowly stroke it back to life. I got so fired up; it was so exciting. Here I am in a public restaurant, this stranger watching me jerk my hard cock under the table. It was foolish of me, but I was so horned up, I didn't care. He continues to stare at my crotch, periodically looking to his booth mate to not be obvious that his attention is elsewhere. I extended my legs forward, and waved my hard cock towards him. As my dick lengthened, the head of my cock hit the bottom of the table. "Shit!" I said to myself, "This isn't going to work." I had to sit straight up in the chair. I spread my legs apart as far as I could, my balls now resting on the seat of the chair. I wrapped both feet behind the front chair legs for support as I stroked my cock. I could feel my dick oozing juice down my fingers. I was close to shooting. I brought my hand up to lick the juice off my fingers. I looked over at Mr. Cutie-pants and he gave me a look, like, don't stop, keep going. I reached back under the table and resumed jerking my cock. I felt the threshold quickly approaching. My balls started to tighten, my feet pressing firmly against the chair legs. I tried to aim my cock towards the floor, but it was so hard I could not get it that low. Straight ahead was the best I could manage. I leaned my head back slightly, as my cock erupted under the table. My body spasmed against the table. I felt shot after shot flying out of my dick. I looked over at him as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. In less than a second, he recovered and gave me a smile after running his tongue across his lips. I was just spent. I let go of my cock and my body went limp. I felt the cum oozing out of my dick, dropping to the floor. I was almost afraid to look under the table to see where my shots had landed. I knew it was going to be a complete mess down there. A few seconds pass by, maybe 15 or so. I grabbed a napkin and wiped the end of my softening cock. After drying it off, I stuffed my package back into my shorts. I bent down and looked under the table. Christ! There was cum all over the place; the floor, the chair sitting across from me. There was even a little wad of cum hanging down off the rung of the chair. How the fuck do I clean this up without drawing attention to myself. I have to clean it up; I can't just leave it there. I grabbed a couple of extra napkins I still had on my tray. I casually reached under the table and threw them over the puddle on the floor beneath me. I needed more napkins; a lot more. Thank God no one else came in the restaurant. Thank God there was a partition that separated the dining room from the front counter. I got up and went to the self-serve area at the counter, and gathered more napkins. I returned to my table with the napkins, and sat in the chair that I had to somehow, clean up nonchalantly. As I sat in the chair, I felt a sizeable wet spot on the back of my leg. Without looking down, I tossed some more napkins on the floor under the table. I took a couple more, and cleaned up the wet spot on the seat of the chair, and raised my leg, and wiped the back of my leg off. I tossed the used napkins on the floor under the table. I grabbed a few more napkins, leaned slightly to the side, bent down, and cleaned off the rungs of the chair. I did the same on the other side. Now, I just have to clean up the floor under the table. I tossed some more napkins on the floor. I knew there was a lot of cum on the floor. I took a quick look under the table. I removed one of my flip-flops. I placed my bare foot on the napkins and began to slide my foot, and the napkins, across the floor wiping up the cum. That was the easiest and most subtle way to clean up my mess. I had enough napkins on the floor to clean up all of the evidence. Now the question is, what the fuck do I do with all of these cum soaked napkins. I decided to go to the counter and ask for a take away box and a bag. I returned to my seat at the table. With my bare foot, I picked up all of the used tissues on the floor by clutching them with my toes. Once I had them in my toes, I brought my leg up, reached under the table with my hand, grabbed the wet napkins and deposited them in the take away bag. It worked and it worked well. After picking up all of the tissues, I walked over to the trash bin, and tossed the entire bag in the bin. As I walked back to my table, I looked over at Mr. Cutie-pants. He looked at me, cocked one eyebrow, and slightly nodded his head as if to say, "Hey I'm impressed. Good clean-up job." I sat back down at my table, and held my head in my hands, feeling relieved after I cleaned up my mess. Note to self, perhaps in future, you should rethink jerking off in a restaurant. I put my extra taco in the take away container, stood up, adjusted my package in my shorts, and headed to the door. I didn't even bother to get a refill on my drink. I could feel my cock leaking. I nodded towards Mr. Cutie-pants, he nodded in return, and I exited the restaurant.