The Mexican

It was another warm summer night, and I was on the prowl for trouble. I had wandered up the street to where I knew some homeless guys hung out behind a neighborhood bodega. Every once in a while I’d encounter one desperate enough to offer himself up for some cash. That night, I did better than that. I found a Mexican plaything. 

I’d walked to the shopping center that contained the local Big Box store. It also had a Mexican restaurant that had closed for the night an hour before. In the parking lot by their back door, I discovered a small hatchback with the engine running and the lights off. I walked up as quietly as I could, but I needn’t have bothered: the driver was fast asleep, his head tilted back and his mouth open. Through the open driver's window I could smell the beer-breath coming from his snoring mouth. He looked to be in his 50’s, with salt and pepper hair that featured more salt. As I peered into the car, I could make out his arms folded over his ample belly. 

As I stood staring at him, he stirred and opened his eyes. After rubbing them a few times, he looked up and spotted me. He mumbled/slurred something about amigo, and I smiled at him. Using my best spanish, I asked if he wanted a blowjob. He blinked in confusion and asked, “Que??” I asked him again, and he responded with a long string of angrily pronounced spanish that I didn’t entirely understand. But I definitely caught the “Fuck you” tone in his voice. He attempted to put his car in gear and finally succeeded on the third try. His car lurched forward, jumped the curb in front of it, then rolled down a short grassy embankment to a lower part of the parking lot. He drove unsteadily a couple of yards to a parking space in a dark corner of the lot, and managed to get his car between the lines. Then he turned off the engine and drifted back to sleep. 

After about 15 minutes (I wanted to give him time to pass back out), I eased towards his open window. Sure enough, he was out cold again. This time I didn’t bother asking. I reached in through the window and massaged his crotch. I wasn’t overly impressed with the bulge I found there, but that’s okay. His wasn’t the dick I was really worried about.

I walked around to the passenger side of his car, finding the door unlocked. I slid in and pulled my pants and underwear down. Between the late hour and the fact that he was parked out of the way, I wasn’t worried about anyone passing by and seeing me molesting him. I unzipped his jeans, sliding my hand down into the musky warmth of his jockey underwear. I was like a kid in a candy store. I played with his full bush, running my fingers through the silken pubes. I rolled his balls around in my hand, loving their fullness. I pulled his small, limp dick out of his pants, attempting to jack it to full hardness. I was having fun playing with his foreskin, but no hard-on. So I decided to focus on me. 

I took his arm, and moved it over my crotch. I spit into his open palm, then wrapped his chubby hand around my hard dick. I loved the feeling of his calloused hand, sliding up and down my spitty cock. And he never even stirred. Not even when I shot my load, sending a stream of hot jizz running down his arm. When my dick was done throbbing, I put his hand back into his own lap. I sat there catching my breath, trying to figure out what to do with him next. It wasn’t often that I had a plaything completely at my disposal and I wasn’t ready to give him up just yet. 

I didn’t want to try and fuck him--he was too big and the car was too small to roll him fully over the way I’d want to. So I did the next best thing. I reached across him and pulled the lever that lowered his seat into a reclining position. I pulled one of my legs out of my pants to give me better mobility. Then I straddled his face and rubbed my dick against his snoring mouth. I was still hard, despite having just nutted. The feeling of his bristly facial hair against my sensitive cock was amazing. His mouth was mostly closed, but occasionally his lips would part, and I could feel some spit and his warm breath on the underside of my cock. It was an exquisite torture. All too soon, I could feel my balls churning, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. 

With a low growl, I felt my dick throb decisively and spew my seed on my plaything’s chin. It ran down onto his neck and pooled in the hollow beneath his adam’s apple. I fell back into the passenger seat, well and truly satisfied. I looked over at him laying there like a glazed donut, and my only regret was not having my camera with me. I’d have loved to take home a souvenir of my Mexican plaything. 

Before I took my leave, I rolled his fat ass over enough to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. I was hoping to get a few bucks, and boy did I score. I must have caught him on payday, because his billfold was loaded with a few hundred in cash. He should have just taken the offer of a blowjob in the first place.