Monticello Cafe

By Mac Rountree

Published on May 24, 2017

Gay

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Monticello Cafe - Redux

I was dating an undercover cop named Ron. He was hot. He spent lots of work-out time in the gym and had been blessed with a goodly endowment that in total made for a very hot package. He stood about 5'10" and had red hair and emerald green eyes....and he was hairy as fuck. When he would strip down I would just want to stare at his muscles and gorgeous hair. Well, I wanted to do more than that and would crave him and become his sex toy.

Normally, I would not have been attracted to him as he was strictly a top. I am versatile and enjoy pumping a hot load of baby batter up a man's butt as well as taking a load. I also enjoying swallowing man meat particularly during a hot sixty-nine. With Rod, it was strictly me sucking his meat or riding his dick. He also enjoyed us jacking each other to a hot climax. We kissed while he was fucking me but not at other times. It was solely about fucking and his needs being met. He was so fucking hot I allowed myself to be used by him....on a regular basis.....as his needs dictated.

He lived at his parent's home so the only time we went to bed was when we rented a hotel room. I always had to pay because somehow he was living paycheck to paycheck while living with his parents. I never believed that and didn't care because he was so hot.

One night we fucked in my pick-up truck. We were at a bar and he said he needed some tail. As we walked out he handed the bouncer some money. We got into the truck and stripped. My legs were thrust over my head as he started doing push-ups in my ass. The truck was rocking. As he would push forward my knee would hit the steering wheel and I would hear the horn blare into the cold night air. I laughed thinking that I was announcing to the world that my ass was being plowed in a public parking lot. After we shot our loads, we proceeded to get dressed. The truck windows were fogged up from our heavy breathing. As we stepped out of the truck, I noticed that the bouncer was standing at the back bumper. Ron thanked the guy for watching out for us. The bouncer winked as me as I walked by and then he reached down and patted my ass. His fingers immediately went to his nose to smell our fuck juices. Damn, that was hot.

Some nights he would drive his work vehicle while I serviced him. We both enjoyed the thrill of driving down the highway doing something illicit and illegal. He would hit the siren just as would shoot his load. It was always a thrilling way to take a load. His 9" cock would slide down my throat and Ron would hold my head down until I was about to pass out. He would then let me catch my breath before I was pushed down again. After feeding me two loads that night we headed to the Monticello Cafe, where I was to meet Ben before we headed back to the beach.

Ben and his date were waiting for us. We were sitting in a front booth overlooking the sidewalk. We placed our order and then Ben started to quiz Ron about being an undercover cop and busting gay men when he himself was a gay man. Ron dodged left and Ben was with him, Ron dodged right and Ben caught him again. Ben was not letting this go and was enjoying the fact that he was humiliating my cop. Ron was talking about swishy queens and that he was all man. I just rolled my eyes thinking what I had done to him earlier in the evening. He was hot and he liked it hard.

Finally, the food came and just as the waitress finished putting the last plate of scrambled eggs and bacon on the table Ron screamed like someone had poured a pot of hot coffee in his lap. I knew that wasn't possible because my hand was in action in his lap and his hand was in my jeans. Ron pushed back in the booth upsetting the table. Food was flying and Ron was screaming like a 7th grade girl watching a horror movie. He climbed over me to get out of the booth. He was pointing and screaming at the window.

"Is you mama out here looking at me giving you a hand job while we eat?" I asked. "Button your jeans, for Christ's sake."

Ron screamed, "There is a cock roach on the curtain. Please make it go away. Please get rid of it."

He was about to piss his pants he was screaming so much. One of the drag queens walked over, pulled the cock roach off the curtain and squished it under her pump. "OK, now it is dead, shut the fuck up you screaming queen."

I looked at Ben. Ben looked at me. "South" is all I said. We put money on the counter and walked. We laughed all of the way to the beach while listening to the latest WOWI-FM jam music in the truck. We jabbered about our evening and how sometimes even the straightest appearing men needed just a little motivation to turn into a screaming queen.

We had two phrases that were part of our everyday lexicon that summer. Every time we saw something that plucked us in the least way, one of us would say, "shut the fuck up you screaming queen" and the other would say, "south" and at that moment we would start laughing and all would be right with the world.

BTW, I never dated Ron again. I missed his big cock but I couldn't get the image of his screaming like a girl out of my brain.


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