I walked past the door for the third time, convinced there was a sign hovering over my head that said 'Pervert.' I sighed again. The imaginary sign had started out saying 'Can't get laid,' then moved on to 'Loser.' Now I was convinced people were staring at me. The fourth pass by...I took a deep breath, read the sign that said 'Adults Only'...again...grabbed the handle and yanked the door opened. I entered the store like I'd been booted in. The clerk looked up at me, snapped his gum, and looked back down at the magazine he was reading. I let out the breath I'd been holding without knowing it, and browsed. I had no fucking idea what I was doing.

I was trying to make the incessant horniness stop, that's what I was doing. Upon examination, my balls were still that hairy pink they'd always been, but from the inside, they were blue. A deep shade of indigo, to be exact. A very painfully deep shade of indigo. I looked down at myself, and there it was again, the erection from hell that no amount of hand action had made go away. I hate you, I thought savagely. I hate you, hard cock. I hate the men that won't go out with me. I hate me. I also hate Adult Book Stores. My imaginary sign now said 'Desperate.' I wandered over to the movie section and stared at covers. A good fuck flick. That's what I needed. A really good fuck flick. If there was such a thing. I heard a deep, hopeless sigh. At first I thought I'd done it, then I realized it came from the man across the display. He looked up and our eyes met. He smiled weakly. 'You look like I feel,' he said. 'You feel like a desperate, perverted, loser who can't get laid?' I said without thinking. He threw his head back and laughed delightedly. My cock tried to climb out of my pants, chanting 'man, man, man!'

The 'man, man, man' laughed until tears streamed from the hazel eyes. Large, deeply set, hazel eyes, in a handsome face with a strong jaw and gentle mouth. He was my height. About my build, I guessed, only on him it seemed...different. Well dressed, in a comfortable 'day off' kind of way. He wore one of those watches that supplied more information than I'd ever need from my wrist, and had a pager attached to his belt. He wiped his eyes with a knuckle, the laughter having died to a helpless chuckle. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I think I needed the release of laughing like that. I'm wound up a little tightly. You should have seen me walking past this place. I don't even know what I'm doing in here. What I'm looking for.' I looked around at the other customers, then shrugged. 'You're looking for what we're all looking for. A big enough cum to shut your cock up for a while.' He looked at me, and smiled softly. 'Yes. I used to dream about true love. Now...just shut the damn cock up so I can get some work done. Life is funny.' My smile was bitter. 'I'll trust you on the funny part. So far, I don't see it.' He held up a videocassette and showed it to me. 'Man with 10' cock picks up two hitchhikers, who coincidentally also have 10' cocks. That's 30' of cock all in the same place at the same time.' He picked up another. ''High School Horny',' he said. 'Now, this is a nice, legal flick. How old would you say those 'high school boys' are? 25? 26?' I would have said at least 27, and told him so. He grinned, then went down the row, getting funnier as he went along. By the time we got to the case with the French ticklers in them, we were leaning on each other for support, laughing hysterically.

We teased and dared each other into going through the curtained doorway to see a movie. Choosing the film was easy. He closed his eyes and stabbed out with a finger. 'Hollywood Call Boy' it was to be. We went in, nervous and fearful that one of the other customers would either speak to us, or Heaven forbid, attempt to touch us. The large sign said 'One Customer to a Booth,' but from the sounds, that was not a sign that impressed anyone. We snuck into a booth, sat down together on the little bench and counted our quarter supply. He dropped a few in. The small screen lit up where he had last stopped. 'My name is Barton, by the way,' he said, sticking out his hand. I shook the soft, strong hand and said 'Dennis,' which after some reflection I remembered was my name. I thought it was the sight of 'Hollywood Call Boy' swallowing, of course, 10' of cock that distracted me, but it wasn't. It was the crisp, clean soapy scent of the man sitting next to me. My cock really hurt now, and I was beginning to think this might have been a bad idea all around. The camera panned up to show the owner of the big cock, and Barton and I both shuddered simultaneously. 'Never,' he said firmly. 'Never in my LIFE have I been that drunk or that desperate.' 'Can you imagine the 'Wanted' Ad?' I murmured. ''Looking for derelict with big dick to play rich executive. Must have gray pallor and be 20 minutes out of detox.' The movie was actually fun once we decided to make brutal fun of it. Our neighbors in the next booth had abandoned the film, but were paying close attention to each other. Barton and I bet a quarter on the exact moment of orgasm. He was closest. I handed him the quarter and he dropped it in. Hollywood Call Boy was taking about 20' at once in both mouth and ass. He looked bored.

'You know,' Barton said softly. 'I don't know what's more humiliating. Watching this shit, or watching this shit with a hardon.' I grinned. 'You are not alone in your humiliation, my brother. My penis has also found artistic merit in this film.' He looked relieved, then apologetic. 'I'm sorry, I'll be discreet, but these fucking pants are too tight and I'm hurting myself.' He stood up, unzipped, then sat back down, his now free and comfortable cock covered by his jacket. I was so grateful I wanted to cry. 'Thank God,' I breathed. 'From now on, you're in charge.' I stood up and freed my throbbing cock from the stranglehold of denim, and sat back down. I leaned my head back against the wall. 'Better,' I said. 'Swollen and throbbing still, but the gangrene flashes have stopped.' We watched Hollywood Call Boy do his thing at a committee meeting, spread out on a long conference table. Cock in mouth, in ass, one in each hand. The cum shots were incredible. We estimated at least a dozen loaded cocks would have been needed.

I don't know when we both realized we were stroking our cocks, but it hit us both at the same time. We looked at each other and smiled. It was an oddly comfortable feeling, sitting next to a total stranger in a booth stuck in the back of an Adult Book Store in front of arguably the worst fuck flick ever made. 'You smell good,' I whispered. He smiled gently. 'I don't wear cologne.' 'I know. You smell like soap and shampoo and deodorant and fabric softener. Clean. I like that.' He leaned a little closer. 'Like how you smell,' he said thickly. I nodded at him, leaning towards him. Our eyes closed, and our lips met, carefully, gently, exploring each other. I flicked my tongue at him and he responded immediately, sliding his tongue in my mouth. The kiss was long and sensuous. We startled each other by how much we enjoyed it. We both pulled our heads back and regarded each other in silence, as all around us men writhed in orgasms, both on the screen and in the various booths. I didn't trust myself to say the right thing, so I just slid a hand forward, slowly, obviously, so that he could stop it if he wanted to. He didn't, and my fingertips ran up and down his hard shaft. He inhaled sharply, and as I slid my fingers up I could feel the precum drip from him.

'Oh,' he said finally. 'Oh.' His cock twitched, and his body began to tremble. I was both astounded and pained. He needed to be touched even more than I did. I spread his clothing away from his cock and admired it. Long, thick, dark, with a large swollen head that poured precum out the slit. He whimpered a little, then immediately looked away, shamed by the sound. I bent forward and took him in my mouth, gently at first, licking and sucking him over both head and shaft, then I took his cockhead in my mouth and slid my tight lips to the base. He gasped, his back arched and he pronounced my name in a strangled voice. I sucked him hard and fast, and his pent-up cum demanded release. He came quickly, holding my head, pumping out his ache and need. He kissed me after, a long lingering kiss with lots of tongue. I left him staring at the screen with half-closed eyes as I went to get a new supply of quarters and some canned soft drinks.

When I got back his eyes were closed and he wore a dreamy smile. He opened his eyes immediately, looked at me, and the smile deepened to a grin. He took the soft drink with thanks and a groan, sipped, then put the can on the bench and looked at me. He wiggled his eyebrows. He reopened my pants without a word, then went down on me, licking my entire shaft, nibbling at my balls, then taking my cock in his mouth for a good, solid suck. Through the slits of my half-closed eyes I watched Hollywood Boy suck cock as Barton did a much better job on mine. I held on for as long as I could, but trying to make it last was silly. It simply wasn't going to. As Hollywood Boy took a load of cum all over his face, I filled Barton's greedy, talented mouth. He sucked and swallowed and I think I managed not to howl too much. I could hear applause coming from someplace, though, so I must have made some kind of noise.

We rested for a while, sipped soda, dropped in quarters and watched Hollywood Boy fuck everybody. They'd obviously run out of 'derelicts-executive type' because I swear the actors were starting to pop up again. I'd never felt so comfortable with anyone, which, considering where we were, was amazing. He got up at one point and left, then returned a few minutes later with a bag. 'Shopping?' I asked drowsily. He smiled, a little shyly. 'Needed supplies, and...some toys.' I forced my eyes open. He took out a tube of lubricant and some wet towelettes wrapped in foil. My eyes widened, as did my smile, and my cock started to twitch and tingle. Since it was still out in plain sight, Barton grinned down at it. Then he took a deep breath and took out his 'toys.' Nipple clamps and a set of handcuffs. He looked at me, a hint of fear in his eyes. 'Just to play,' he said softly. 'Fun. If you don't like them....' I was ripping my shirt open, so he stopped talking.

He handcuffed my wrists in front of me, and had me sit with my pants around my ankles, my naked ass on the rough wooden bench as he sucked my nipples erect then clamped them. I got into it completely, wiggling my helpless, submissive boy-toy body for my Master. My cock was hard and throbbing. Barton had to rest every few minutes, lean against the wall and blink to clear his vision. There was a strong possibility that we'd just shoot cum all over each other without every touching cocks at all. He attached weights to the clamps, then had me stand up, turn and bend over, resting my elbows on the bench. The weighted clamps pulled hard on my nipples and the pain it gave me was ecstasy. I looked down at my handcuffed wrists. Helpless, I thought. I'm his helpless slave. He can do whatever he wants to me.

What he wanted to do first was eat my ass, and he did, his tongue thrusts deep and demanding. I stared at my dripping cock, then looked away, not wanting my own mouth in the line of fire. His slick index finger took me next, hard, and I wiggled my suddenly virgin ass and protested. I could hear his breathing get harsh and irregular. When the second finger entered me savagely, I began to beg and promise to do anything if my Master wouldn't defile my untouched ass. He pronounced a sentence involving the word 'asspussy,' then one containing 'slut,' then one definitely featuring 'MINE!' several times. He slammed his cock in so hard my eyes nearly rolled back in my head. Then...he fucked me. He fucked me harder and longer than anyone had ever fucked me before. It seemed to be endless, and I loved it. I couldn't get enough. His cock seemed to swell several times, but each time he found the strength to go on pounding me. His balls smacked me hard. The weights bounced and pulled my nipple clamps and the sensation was almost more than I could tolerate. I struggled against my handcuffs, feeling them bite into my wrists. He pinched my ass hard as he fucked me, and the silent torture shoved me up and over the edge. I tried to keep as quiet as possible, but I'll never know if I managed. Barton doesn't know either, because the second he felt me start to cum, his own orgasm smashed through him and he flooded my ass with cum. Lots and lots of hot cum. Mine went all over. The bench, my hands, off into space. We shuddered for a long time, locked together, in the most intense pleasure ever.

I work with some good people, and most of the time, on a Monday morning, they ask how my weekend was. Most of the time, I smile demurely and say 'Barton and I went shopping and to a movie.' They always smile back and say 'how nice.' It is. Very.


Morgan Grayson

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