What you are about to read contains graphic descriptions of sex between an adult my virgin self (it's been years, Mary). If you are offended by such material or are too young to read adult erotica, please leave now.
My First Bookstore BJ
By BladerIowa@aol.com
I've written so many fictional stories, I thought is time for one that was 100% true. This happened to me when I was just 17. I was living in Kansas City at the time. I used to have a little red Honda Express moped and would spend hours cruising up and down Main and Troost just for the hell of it. Later at night the whores would be out working the street. Every so often cops would bust their skanky asses. Further downtown the rent boys would be working the corners. Liberty Memorial would be buzzing with gays cruising gays. The bookstores would be hopping.
Times have changed a lot. Johnson County cracked down on the dirty bookstores. All of the booths in all of the arcades had to either remove the doors or replace them with swinging doors at shoulder level. The Liberty Memorial area is now patrolled at night and you don't seeing the male and female prostitutes any more. All that's left for me to remember is the good old days.
Back then I was still considering myself straight. Religion will do that to you. When I moved into town, I was living on my own in student housing. Being a smart little shit, I graduated high school early and started electronics school about a year early. Smart as I was, I was still a teenager. Being a horny 17 year old, I was eager to let someone - anyone - suck my cock so I could see what it was like.
I recall looking in the yellow pages for an adult bookstore. The guy that lived in the apartment next to me was a cutie. I'll never remember his first name, but his last name was something like Luendyke. I can still see his cute tanned legs poking out his shorts and his long curly mane of hair. I had an instant crush. I told Luendyke I was going to an adult bookstore to check the place out. He wanted to come with and we piled onto my little moped. It was a tight squeeze, but I can recall how good it felt to have him holding on to me. I had a wood.
When we got to the News Emporium, I chained up the moped and we went in. It was really dim in there and the place smelled of smoke and cum. In the back you could hear the faint whir of projectors. The attendant had to have known we were underage but didn't seem to give a shit. Years later it dawned on me he was probably a fag. Most fags don't turn down young cock if it's close to 18. If someone wanted to suck a minor off, he didn't care. Luendyke and I browsed some mags but didn't buy any. I walked back toward the arcade and looked behind the curtain. Rows of dimly lit booths lined the hallways. There was a light above each one indicating if it was occupied. Red bulbs lit the hallways. There were people zig-zagging from one booth to another. It was a strange sight. I knew someday I would come back here to see one of the flicks.
Luendyke and I returned home, laughing about what a shithole the place was. He asked if I'd noticed all the fags checking us out. I hadn't. He said he'd never go back there again cause he hates fags. That kind of stabbed an arrow through my heart.
Well, I did go back a few days later. I remember it was during the early summer. I remember the warm sunshine burning my skin and how good it felt back then. As I recall the month would have been about June of 1983. I had to go back. It was almost like an inner voice was calling me back to that mysterious curtain covered hallway.
Again, I chained the moped up and went it. The No Minors Under 21 sign greeted me. The same attendant was working. He was fat and lisped. Without batting an eye, he sold me a few dollars worth of quarters. I made a beeline for the back and entered the dim hallway. The same putrid stench was present, a smell I've come to know well.
A guy was standing in the hallway looking at me. He was older than me, somewhere in his mid-twenties. As I was about to enter the first booth, he asked me a question I will never forget.
"Would you like a blowjob while you watch?"
I was scared and said no. After a few seconds, I opened the door and invited him in. He had me sit down on the bench. He deposited a few coins and the grainy film started. I wasn't sure what to do at this point. He was.
He deftly undid my pants and pulled them down. I was wearing white underwear and he rubbed my cock through them before he pulled them down.
"You have a big dick," he lisped. The next thing I know, I saw stars. He swallowed my cock all the way down his throat. It felt fantastic! As he sucked, he bobbed and twisted and licked. I loved it! My young cock came alive with sensations my hand couldn't even reproduce.
After a few minutes of his sucking, I still couldn't cum. He pulled off me and started licking my balls. I felt his whiskers tickling my thighs as his tongue probed lower. When it reached my ass, I stroked on my cock. As I increased the speed of my stroking, the guy pulled away from my butt. His finger roughly penetrated my virgin rectum and at the same time he deep throated me. I shot the biggest load I'd ever shot down his throat. I thought I was going to pass out from the sensation.
He asked me if I wanted to return the favor and I apologized and said I was scared. I ran out of the bookstore, got on the moped and got the hell out of there. I was so terrified about what I'd just done that I raced home, threw up, and took a shower to get clean again. I was just sure not that God was gonna think I was queer and send me to hell.
I went back later that week and the week after and the week after. It wasn't long after that when the AIDS epidemic hit and I stopped going to the bookstores. Some years later I returned and to this day I still like to go in and whack off and shoot a load on the wall. Now days even doing that will get you arrested or thrown out. The News Emporium is gone now, the neighborhood is different, and there are no more grainy fuck films in dingy booths. All I have are my memories of the good old days.