When I was in my thirties, I took the commuter train toPhiladelphia specifically to go to a porno movie house notorious forthe anonymous, rough trade blowjobs in the back of the theater and sometimes in the bathrooms. The placewas especially frequented by horny, predominately straight, black men.Some of the younger ones were hustlers, but a lot of guys who wereolder, just went there to get a "no-strings," free blowjob . I shouldprobably explain that in my experience, black guys who are primarilyheterosexual are more likely than white guys to just let a guy like mesuck them off in situations like this, as long as there is noreciprocation and it remains anonymous. They retain theirheterosexual identity--that is, they consider themselves to bestraight--and think of the other guy, the guy blowing them, as the gay one; in their mind, they're just using a fagto get their rocks off, and I'm willing, eager even, to give themrelief, despite the lack of reciprocity (or more precisely, because of the lack of reciprocity). This puzzling concern with the other guy's cock rather than my own, marks me as a truly submissive queer (I realize that it's hard for a regular guy to understand).
For some of these men, it's as much or even more about dominating theother guy than it is about them receiving sexual stimulation; I seekout these dominant types. I like to be real submissive for a guy likethat, sniffing out his sweaty nuts for him, kissing them all over,rubbing his dick in my face and telling him how queer I am, what asperm eater I am, how I'm not a man at all compared to him--shit likethat. I like a guy who is verbally abusive, and me talking about myselfin denigrating language sometimes brings out the guy's natural sadisticurges and he starts calling me names, ordering me around, maybe evenslapping me, etc.--at least that's what I came for (and when I wantedthat kind of thing, I usually could find a straight or bisexual guykinky enough to be willing to let me go all queer for him this way, ifonly just for kicks--as well, of course, as to show who's the Man andwho's the fag).
Although when you're young you do what you think you're supposedto do, but by your mid-thirties you just want what you want and youdon't care what we're supposed to do or supposed tolike. Because I got involved in a long-term, open relationship in mylate twenties, finding sexual partners became a much lower priority. Icould then concentrate, not on meeting someone with whom I wascompatible, but was free to pursue my fetish for straight guys. I gaveup going to gay bars altogether and I got into anonymous rough tradesuck offs, sometimes with multiple partners at truck stops and pornobookstores and movie houses like this one. This never became a regularthing, however, because the "meat and potatoes" of my sex life wastaken care of by my partner, and rough-trade blowjobs where the toptreated me like a bitch became an occasional, exotic pursuit, a spicy side dish, so to speak--an indulgence once or twice ayear.
That night, I was planning to indulge myself by just sucking off a guyor two right there at the movie, and so I just wore my hooded sweatshirt and sweat pants and sneakers on the commuter train intoPhiladelphia so that later, I could maneuver down in the cramped areaof the seats in the theater to suck dick and also could reach my owneasily (I usually like to jerk myself while I suck a guy off). It wasearly summer, and I had just got a buzz cut, and I imagined that Ilooked just like a real jailhouse punk, which I thought increased mychances or finding a dominant, sadistic "Other" at the movie house.
When I got there, there were not many people, so I sat down in a rownear the back and waited. It couldn't have been more than fifteenminutes before a short, handsome, skinny black guy in his early fortiesdressed up in a suit and tie came and sat down in the same row just afew seats away from me. He exuded that swaggering self-confidence thatmight indicate a dominant personality and he was grabbing his dickthrough his pants provocatively. I could see from his basket thatalthough he was a small man, he had a proportionately large cock andballs. I also noted his wedding ring, and this excited my fetish forstraight guys. After making eye contact, I moved over to the seat nextto him and asked him if he would like me to suck his dick for him andhe say "okay."
He pulled out his semi-hard cock--it must have been over seven incheslong, and I got down on the floor on my knees. When I took him in, hegrabbed the back of my head and shoved his dick in all the way, gaggingme. He wanted to unequivocally establish from the start that he wasthe dominant one. Picking up on this, I told him that I liked to beordered around and called names and he immediately said, "Suck it fag."Once I got going on his cock he said "You like the taste of that dickfaggot?" to which I mumbled back a "yes" while his dick was still in mymouth, which got him real excited. Then he pulled his cock out of mymouth and asked me, breathlessly, if I'd like to go to a hotel. Therewas an anxiousness to his voice, as if he were afraid that I would sayno. I replied that I didn't have any money, and he said that he'd pay,that he knew a place nearby where he had gone before, and I said,"Okay." He was so excited that his dick continued to tent his pantshalf way to the hotel which was a few blocks away. He probably hadwanted a submissive fag to whom he could be abusive for a long time,but that he very rarely got the chance because most cocksuckersdon't want to be verbally denigrated like I do. With me he had, so tospeak, "hit the jackpot," and he was going to make the most of it.
In an effort to make small talk on the way to the hotel, I told himthat I was a student in grad school. He said that he had just come froma job interview and he was almost certain that he got the job. Icongratulated him, but when I asked him what the job was, he just saidit was "working with a business" (in other words, I had broken theanonymity by asking). I told him I had some marijuana on me and he saidthat he had some of his own as well. We stopped at an ATM machine, andhe took out some money. We stopped at a liquor store and he picked upsome cigarettes and brandy. Before we got to the hotel, he asked me notto talk to him until we were up in the room. There was a certain levelof shame he probably felt for getting a room with a faggot and wantedto be as low-keyed as possible in the lobby. I realized that I stilldidn't even know his name.
We had to wait in a line in the cheap hotel lobby, and I feltself-conscious about being dressed only in sweats, while the other guywas dressed in a suit. Neither of us had any luggage. We didn't talk toeach other, but people were eyeing us just the same. When he got up tothe front desk, they seemed to know what was going on. The clerk askedhim if he wanted to spend an extra fee so that I could leave the roomand return. Without asking me, he said that wouldn't be necessary.(They were talking about me as if I were not there, the thought ofwhich I found to be a masochistic turn-on.) He paid for the room with cash.
When we were on the elevator alone, he told me "Everybody in the lobbyknew that you was coming up to suck my dick!" I experienced anexquisite shudder of shame and I think I blushed, because he respondedwith a sadistic chuckle. Once we were up in the room, he immediatelywas into the dominant role. He took off his jacket and hung it up inthe closet. Then he sat down on a big overstuffed chair and told me tokneel between his legs and take his shoes off for him. After removinghis shoes, I kissed one of his feet through the sock and asked if he'dlike to have me lick his feet. He answered, "Not yet."
He then removed his tie and white shirt and rolled up a marijuanacigarette and we smoked it, him the the chair, me down on the floorwhere I belonged. The roles were temporarily suspended while we smokedhis grass. We made small talk. It was very strong marijuana--we didn'teven finish smoking the joint when he returned, seamlessly, to the roleand ordered me to remove his pants and fold them for him. I slippedright back into the role and obeyed. After I removed his pants he wasleft in only a white athletic shirt, socks and briefs. His physique waslean but surprisingly muscular. Then he pulled by face roughly onto hisbasket and told me to kiss it all over, which I did immediately andwith enthusiasm rubbing my face in his crotch and going all queer forhis basket. He told me to pull off his briefs, which I did, and theninstead of taking his dick in my mouth right away, I waited for him toorder me to suck it. "Suck it, you sick motherfuck," he growled, pleased that I knew enough to wait for him to tell me what to do.
It was interesting that such a short guy would be so dominant in hisfantasies. There was a continuous river of insults and name-calling ashe ordered me around, making me do all sorts of degrading shit, likesniffing out and licking his nuts, taking each ball into my mouthindividually and just holding it there, and then taking them both in,which really filled up my hole. He had me licking his armpits out,feeling up his hairy chest, sucking his toes, one by one, and finally,I sucked him to completion and he shot loads of sperm into my queermouth and then made me swallow it all, which gagged me, almost makingme throw up. He told me that he didn't want me to come yet, because hehad another load in there for me and he wanted to make sure that Iremained all queered out for his dick later. He slept but I was toohorny to sleep and just laid on the bed next to him, breathlesslyawaiting his reawakening.
About an hour later, he woke up and told me that he had to piss bad,yet remained in bed with me. I picked up on the suggestion and asked ifhe wanted to piss all over me, and he said, "Go into the bathroom yousick bastard, strip and kneel down in the bathtub and wait for me,"which I did immediately. He did not come in right away, but I couldsmell marijuana and knew that he was smoking a joint and swigging thebrandy out there, making me wait as a sadistic gesture. I kept jerkingmyself, edging it for what must have been five or ten minutes, beforehe came in naked, stood up on the edge of the bathtub, and pissed allover me while he laughed at me. Although I've been pissed on a fewtimes over the years, I had never before or since, experienced a top'sderisive laughter while doing it. It must have been the meanest, mostdegrading piss off I ever experienced. It made me bust my wad, rightthere, kneeling in the bathtub, while the guy was pissing right in myface and laughing at me.
After he was through pissing on me, he jerked himself and after a fewminutes, told me to get my face over there, and he shot his load allover my face, and then rubbed it all over my face with his right hand,finally slapping me up side the face with his hand all slimy from hissperm. It made a wet, splatting sound as his hand contacted my cheek,already wet from his piss and his sperm. The slap was pretty hard. "Yougot what you deserved, queer," he said before washing his hands in thesink and leaving the bathroom. After I came out of the shower naked, Ifound him fully dressed and ready to go. It was just after ten o'clock.We had been at it for over three hours altogether. He asked me if I'dlet him whip my ass with his belt before he left, but I said I wasn'tup for it. He looked irritated, but accepted this. I gave him my numberand he wrote down a number on a receipt and gave it to me before heleft. I left shortly afterwards.
I thought all day about him coming in my mouth, pissing all over me,and I fantasized about him taking off his belt, bending me over the endof the bed and whipping my ass good. I was worried about calling thenumber he left because I assumed he lived with his wife. When I calledthat number later that same day, however, I found out that it was anon-working number. He never called me and I never saw him again. Ialways wished that I had let him beat my ass, but now, even decadeslater, I will never forget one of the most masochistic encounters Iever had with this little guy with such a big attitude, whose name Inever learned.