Date: Mon, 29 Mar 2004 20:00:54 -0800 (PST)
From: Billy Jay Dee
Subject: Hi, LAX

(Another story based on the true experiences of a married bisexual man.)

By BILLY JAY DEE

"That was good!" I assured my first e-date at Los Angeles International
Airport (LAX)

I knew it was going to be good as soon as our lips met. Chuck tasted
sweet like the fresh-faced co-eds I use to fuck in college and he kissed
like my best man -- deep, wet, and wild. He was a big man trapped in a
small man's body: big behind, big belly hanging over his belt, broad
shoulders, and large upper arms dwindling to thin wrists and tiny little
fingers. He had a handsome face with manly features, short black hair
and goatee with a touch of gray, thick lips and a mottled complexion.
Aside from a small patch of bristle on his chest, his body was as smooth
and dark as chocolate. His small cock, sliding in and out of my hand,
leaked precum constantly. His balls were small and rough.

"Why don't you roll over on your belly, Will?"

Oh, and me: I'm 6'1", 190#, blue eyes, brown hair, bi, married, and a
bottom. I'd just arrived in LAX on business for two weeks.

"We don't need a pillow under you. Just lay flat. I'll climb on
top." Chuck further assured me he'd just slid his dick up my hairless
crack to get it hard rather than push it into my hole.

He stroked for a just a few seconds, rolled on the condom and pushed the
head in me. Kneeling astride my thighs, Chuck rocked his very stiff rod
in and out of me.

"Yeah, Will, I like your manhole. I went in easy."

I failed to mention I'd spent the weekend with a former, still frisky
boyfriend who is hung like a horse.

"Yeah, yeah, Chuck, fuck my hole."

He kept rocking in and out of my ass shaking the whole bed and massaging
my whole pale frame. When I looked back over my shoulder to admire the
view, he was twisting his nipples and gazing up at the ceiling. When he
glanced down, he leaned forward until his tongue met mine. Then he found
my ear, kissed my neck and forced my head down as he fell to all fours
and started thrusting more insistently. Only the shears were drawn
against the airport lights and I could see the shadow of his shoulders,
head, back and ass fucking my darkened figure on the wall beside us. He
was sweating profusely and panting in my ear with ever increasing
breath.

"Want me to get on top and do some of the work?" I asked.

"Yeah," he gasped.

He rolled onto his back. I straddled his thighs and settled down on his
short rod. I started dry humping his big black belly with my little
white dick, while my ass held tight to his manhood.

"Like that?"

"Oh, yeah," he said as he began to stroke up into me and I began to
bounce up and down.

We worked it like that for a while until he pushed my shoulders back to
improve his angle of attack. And we discovered that by interlocking our
fingers he could pull me and push me on and off of his rod. Until I wore
him out again.

"Better suck on that thing again, Will."

When I rolled off the latex and went down on his veiny cock, I tasted
Chuck juice rather than latex.

"You come?" I asked, pausing in my oral activities.

"No, not yet. I gush pre-cum. Did you notice the cooks at the
restaurant tonight." I mumbled that I had. One was a cute Mexican guy
about our age. But my lips kept around his dick.

"I got to hit on the older one. I got a sure fire technique." I hummed
encouragingly. "You ask 'em if they got a wife and kids back home.
They say yes and show you pictures. You ask if they have a girlfriend.
They say yes and show you her picture. You ask if they like porn. They
say yes and you take 'em. You say, I'll bet yours is bigger than his.
As soon as they show you their dick, it's guaranteed you'll be on your
back getting fucked in the ass. Works every time."

His story seem to work because with a few deep-throats and licks of the
shaft, Chuck was ready to go again.

"Guess, I'd better fuck you some more." He climbed on and began
banging away, much to my encouragement. "Oh, if you like this, this is
nothing compared to what Mark is going to do to you. He's got two
inches on me and can fuck for an hour straight."

"Who's Mark? "

"A buddy of mine. I'll introduce you."

He stayed in the saddle a respectable amount of time and finally
confessed that he hadn't been going to the gym much and his legs were
killing him. We cuddled instead and stroked. When I kissed him all
over his face, his passion knew no bounds and large white gobs of cum
shot all over his dark inner thighs and belly. He held me tight and made
me do the same thing. We napped for a while before sending him off to
work.

"Well, welcome to LAX. I'm sure you'll have a great time." He
stopped in mid waddle towards the door. "Shall I mention you to Mark?"

"That would be great. You two talk it over and give me a call."

He hesitated just moment. "Maybe we'd tag team you. Would you like
that?"

I assured him I would and he was gone.

The next night I was at the hotel bar waiting for "Ramon". I'd
assumed he was Hispanic, this being LA, but had been surprised when I
called his machine that day. His accent wasn't Mexican nor the
melodious accents I grew up with in the desert Southwest. Ends up Ramon
was Spanish, raised in Europe. A Hispanic man in gym clothes walked by
the bar, younger than I expected Ramon to be. His glance seemed to rest
longer on me than on anyone else in the bar. He was stocky and smiling.
A few minutes later Ramon walked in, tall and dark with short-combed
hair, well-trimmed moustache and a light black leather coat. He had a
ready smile and a high sweet voice. We left for dinner shortly after. He
opened the car door for me, everywhere we went. His hairy hand
constantly on my ass and his Castilian lisp constantly complimenting it.

He took me to Pistons to romance me around the campfire and then on to
the Crest to gaze into the rose light waterfall flickering in the garden.
His voice was pure poetry, weaving in and out of a dozen languages
(including Japanese), stringing words together in ways I had never heard
before. It was the phrase he used to describe an elderly friend -- "He
perspires stamina and sexuality" -- that convinced me to take him back
to the hotel, now!

His arms and legs were seriously hairy. He skin nice and brown. He
pulled me down on the bed beside him and began kissing me softly,
cuddling, rolling us around, saying the sweetest things, his hand finally
finding it's way to my crack and began loosing up my butt hole. My
right hand had been pulling at his thick six-inch cock for a while when
he said, "It's time."

Ramon leaped from the bed and with his back to me rolled on a condom.
Then he returned to me with a big bottle of lube in hand.

"Roll over on your back, baby."

He poured loads of lube on his rigid member and spread my legs in a
"v". He tried to push into me, but went high, then low, then his rod
stroked mine again, and then way down my crack, then: "Baby, stick it in
yourself"

I complied and he pushed almost all the way it. It felt good. He began
to push in and out which raised the ache and pain in my butt. Only one
thing left to do, I wrapped my hands around his hairy butt and pulled him
all the way into me. He kept my ankles far apart and legs straight which
opened my ass wide for his attack. He pulled my thighs to his belly and
ankles to his ears. And this handsome hairy stud began pounding away
frantically.

"After this, Will" -- he said it like "Weal" -- "I want you doggie
style."

When that time came, I pointed out our shadows on the wall. Ramon stood
tall behind me, throwing his strong shadow on the wall. It was too much
for me. I dropped my shoulders to the sheets and reached my own cock and
started jerking off. Ramon was panting away behind me and whispering
enthusiastically in Spanish or French. Or both.

"Hold on, Ramon! I'm going to cuh-cuh-cum!"

As I splattered a couple of loads onto the linen, my ass clamped down on
his rod, sending him over the edge. He rushed to orgasm with grunts and
whimpers and a copious, dripping deposit in my twitching ass. Later he
offered to take me anywhere while I was in LA. He certainly took me
somewhere this night.

Next night I was waiting for Mickey at the hotel bar. He was a red head,
just like my best man. I've always had a thing for them. He walks in
grinning sheepishly. Short red hair, fair easily blushing skin, slight
of build, a littler shorter than I, copperish curls peeking out of his
collar.

"Hi," he says and snuggles onto the bar stool next to me.

We were off to dinner, a tour of Hollywood and then "Underwear" Night
at the Faultline. It was pretty wild, although all those guys in
camouflage jock straps at the Faultline is pretty wild, too. So was the
video on the monitors and the action in the corner of the darkened dance
floor. I was enjoying the shows and wondered why Mickey went out to the
patio.

"I decided to check my pants at the door," he explained.

I guess my hands got too wild after that cause Mike suggested soon
afterwards we head for my hotel. His chest was hairy and graying with a
treasure trail leading to thick curly pubes that were almost maroon in
their dark, heavy profusion. I was on his cock and nestling into his
crotch in a second.

"Yeah, yeah, Will," he grunted.

His white cock was a seven-plus incher and it didn't take long until he
was ready.

"Yeah, yeah, want to climb on top?" he queried, waving that long thin
pole lasciviously.

I settled comfortably astride, but once it was in, "Can I get on top,
now?" he asked.

Mickey mounted up and began seriously pounding my behind. He had me
curled up and with a grimace on his ruddy face kept fucking me
vehemently, almost shouting his pleasure.

"Yeah, yeah," he panted.

His six-pack abdomen slapped so hard and so repeatedly into my crotch I
thought my balls would turn blue. I pulled them up out of the way.

"Just breathe. Just breathe." And he pushed my shoulders into the
mattress and forced me to relax.

He kept hammering away; serious and intense. "Yeah, fuck, yeah," he
grunted.

Eventually, it must have been clear I was getting cramped up. "Need a
break?" he muttered breathlessly.

When I returned from the bathroom, the one with the green harp on his
shoulder was laying up against the headboard his hardon pointing straight
up. I mounted up.

"Will, I want you to stroke it."

I was glad to oblige, cupped my hand and started stroke my soft
six-incher.

"Yeah, yeah," Mickey whispered encouragingly.

I was getting close and put my left hand up to the wall. Mike took over,
slapping his thighs hard up against my behind. "Yeah, yeah, ooooh," he
whispered as I was starting to lose it. With a hand full of man-juice, I
collapsed beside my red head. I had a good time. I guess I should call
him about going out St. Patrick's Day.

Friday night; I was back to the Faultline after walking to the corner,
taking the Culvert City bus to the "Green Line" monorail, transferring
to the "Blue Line" train, switching to the "Red Line" subway and
walking two blocks. The place was crowded and the boys just as nasty in
the far corner. I talked with an ex-marine recovering from surgery, a
(damn) fellow bottom and a thin fun-looking bearded guy that my previous
companion might have liked. I was back checking out the action on the
dance floor. (Some small black guy with an enormous dick was trying to
penetrate a willing versatile couple going at it. Several of us added
our saliva to his enormous wang, but no luck.)

As I headed to the patio, a big bear said, "Hello"

"Hello."

"How's it going?" I ask.

"Good."

We kissed shortly thereafter and left not too long afterwards, in just a
hurry he forgot to say goodbye to his buddy. We chatted one another up
waiting for our taxi. We almost missed it. Our driver missed three red
lights and directions to the airport. Garland was beefy, big, and hairy
in the perfect chest formation. His eyelids lounged lazily upon his
cheeks and I worried he'd fall asleep, but he was wide awake. He was
hard when we undressed at two in the morning, showing seven inches of
dark thick meat. I rolled on the condom and climbed on. I rode him up
and down. Garland liked it slow. I rubbed my hand across his furry
chest and played with his soft nipples. He liked to suck on mine. I
rolled off the condom, so I could suck on his cock some more.

"Scoot down here, buddy," he lisped pulling my hips towards his mouth.
He jerked himself with his left hand to give my mouth access to his thick
brown head. Meanwhile he licked my dick and moaned encouragingly. I
awoke two hours later to find us atop the sheets still in the "69"
position. We had to leave too early the next day. Damn, I would have
liked seconds of that.



Next time I could go out it was a St. Patrick's date. So naturally I
asked the red head for a second date. (Okay, I asked him out again,
because he had the biggest dick.) Mickey showed up right after work,
changed clothes in my room and we were headed out on the town. We hit
one of those hotspots on Hollywood Boulevard with valet parking and a
line to get it. It wasn't the "Northern New Mexican Cuisine" I grew
up on, but it was fun, and Mickey seemed to know everyone in the place
and all its history. Then we were off to the gay district in Long Beach,
which was surprisingly quiet for St. Patty's but it was mid-week.
Finally, back to my room!

We took turns using the bathroom, each exiting in the nude. When I
joined him in bed, he was laying bellying down in anticipation of a
promised back rub. I started lightly massaging his back, looking for a
knot to attack, while my 6 incher settled into the crack of his ass. I
started rubbing his shoulders, leaning into the work, letting my cock
ride up and down his behind as I worked. He moaned encouragingly. He
was enjoying the rub down, as was my hardening dick. Soon, enough, I was
ready to massage something else, and I rolled him over on his back his
lithe naked form was stretched out atop the sheets, propped up against
two pillows. I straddled his hips and bent to kiss his blushed face.
Not a great kisser nor overly affectionate in public, but I knew what he
was good at. While I kissed him, I rubbed my hard cock against his
longer, thicker beast and was rewarded with a returning jab to my
abdomen. My lips worked their way down his frame until I was slurping
at his thick bitter white cock and long hairless balls.

"Yeah, yeah, that's good," he mumbled.

I rolled his rod back and forth across his belly with my tongue, then
slurped it into my mouth again. With constant stroking by the pink
inside of my mouth and with encouraging words from Mickey, it started
getting harder. Eventually, it was standing straight up, my hearty
redhead was leaning back on the pillows moaning "yeah, yeah" and I was
bobbing for his apples like it was going out of style.

"What to roll a condom on it and mount up on that thing?"

I reached for the supplies in the bed stand, opened a condom. He moaned
as I rolled it on. A little lube and I was settling on his shaft. It
was a slow slide, I guess I should have lubed up more, but eventually my
butt settled into his lap, then I leaned back for that little bit more of
penetration.

"OOOh, God, yeah, that's good."

I started sliding up and down his cock while Mickey continued to moan and
pinch his little brown nipples. I kept rising and falling, giving him a
slow full fuck, but figured he'd want something a little more active.
Settling my ass down as far as I could, I clamped onto his shaft and
started rapidly grinding my ass into him, while my lubed up cock humped
fervently into his furry flat belly.

"Oh, oh, sorry, too much green beer. Go back to doing it slow."

I complied until he was ready to take over, then I rolled back while
holding his shoulders, unfurled my long legs, grabbed his hips and held
him tight as he pushed off the mattress atop me. I knew his style this
time and pull my balls up out of the way before they got bruised in his
furious pummeling of my hole.

"Yeah, yeah." He recited the words like a mantra, barely able to keep
his eyes open as the passion overwhelmed him.

He straightened his back for a moment and pulled my ass up on his knees.
This left my feet dangling in the air and his hands free to twist his
nipples and he wiggled the sheathed head of his cock in my love canal. I
could tell by his yeah-yeahs that he was loving it. Then he reached
under my arms to get a firmer grip on my shoulders, so as to get even
further into my ass.

"Just breathe, Will. I'll make it easier."

I took his advice, giving my ass over to his assault, watched his eyes
glaze and heard his breath turn to pants.

"Yeah, yeah."

But the green beer and late hour was taking its toll and after a half
hour of that Mickey said "I gotta take a break."

As he fell back on the pillows he called for me to join him. I crawled
up to him, his right arm came up under my shoulder and his hand grabbed
the back of my head. I figured he was pulling my mouth to the enraged
head of the cock his was furiously jerking. Instead he pulled my face to
his chest.

"Suck on my nipple," he begged. "Yeah, yeah"

His fist flew back and forth, he writhed in my arms. I sucked, I
mouthed, I lightly bit his tit.

"Tell me your fantasy," he urged.

"I wish there was two of you, so I could do two guys at once. One in my
mouth and one in my ass. I'd be on all fours so they could get in
deeper. I'd be theirs to fuck anyway they wanted. When the guy in my
ass came, he just come around to my face and I'd start sucking him hard
again while the other guy started fucking me. That way we could do it
all night long."

Mickey was heaving off the mattress by now, yelling, "Yeah, yeah." He
came in convulsions and spasms, then promptly fell asleep in my arms.

So that was Los Angeles International Airport: an Afro-American with a
fondness for Mexicans, a Spaniard fluent in 10 languages, a big-dicked
Irishman on St Patty's day and an all-American bear. I guess it really
is an international airport.