If You Can't Cum Today, Cum Tomorrow
"Well, umm, I don't really know, ...what do you have in mind?"
The young man dressed in levi jeans and denim shirt moved away. The look of disgust on his face showed a definite intolerance for my indecision.
Yep, that line was the kiss of death. Killed my chances completely of making out in this Kansas City leather bar. Shit. I would expect to find a heavy leather scene in NYC, but whoda thunk it would be out here in the midwest too. Well, shouldn't surprise me, I guess. I know that there are leather bars in Wash DC and some other cities that I have been to, and as the song says, "everything's up to date in KC".
In some ways Kansas City was very small townish. And I liked it. For example, I soon found that without a car you could hitchhike up and down the main drag without a problem. Cars seemed to cruise back and forth all evening, and anyone could put their thumb out and an accommodating driver would stop to pick them up within a minute or so. In exploring the town, I stumbled across the leather bar, and was surprised when the good looking young guy in jeans sidled over to me, and made some small talk. I guess a new face was easy to determine here. I was flattered by the attention of this handsome young man, but he cut me off cold when I treated him too politely. He made some remarks about being dominated, and I guess he was looking for a master. But I wasn't up for that, so I didn't stay very long in that bar. But while I was there, I was able to get the address of another gay bar in town.
The next night I found the other gay bar, and had a drink or two as I watched the passing scene. It was not a leather bar, but definitely gay. There were no overt sexual overtures observable however. Everything was quite subdued. As the evening wore on, guys began to leave, some alone and sometimes in couples. I was horny and hoping that I might connect. The bartender announced that he would be closing soon and asked me if I wanted a last drink. I ordered one, and moved down a few stools closer to a fine looking lanky guy in his late thirties. He was tall, had brown hair and appeared to be slightly drunk. Several buttons of his shirt were open and I made some comment about that. He was friendly, and moved over to the stool next to mine. We chatted about this and that, and upon learning that I was at a local hotel my new friend, who was called by his initials PJ, suggested that we continue getting to know each other at my
hotel. I knew what that meant and was more than happy with the idea.
PJ had a little sports car in the lot behind the bar, and we sat in it for a few minutes talking. Then PJ put the car in gear and we headed for my hotel, which I had heard was one where former President Harry Truman had frequently held political meetings. Well, I was hoping to have a meeting of a different sort.
As we walked through the hotel corridor, PJ said, "When we get to your room, I think I'm gonna streak !" (During the seventies a new fad called "streaking" began, which simply meant running around naked. It started with college students and then was picked up by all kinds of exhibitionists and free spirits.) Nothing overtly sexual had happened between us so far, and I guess PJ was just making sure that he was not on a fool's errand.
"Oh, yeah, that'll be great, " I encouraged.
Sure enough, when we got to my hotel room, PJ began to rip off his clothes, with abandon. I joined him, and we were soon stark naked and in each others arms. Kissing, grabbing, rubbing, tweaking, we fell on to the bed. I began to suck PJ who had a nice, cut fat cock, fully erect and throbbing with excitement.
"Suck me new york style," PJ demanded.
I did my best to follow those ambiguous instructions.
I stopped after a bit, hoping for some reciprocation. PJ was happy to oblige.
He took my dick in his mouth, and made low murmuring sounds as he lapped, and licked and blew air and sucked my appreciative cock. We continued this way, alternating oral attention, until PJ abruptly stopped. He sat up and looked me in the eye.
"You came after me, didn't you?" he asked.
Confused at this turn of events I said something like, "Huh?"
"When we were in the bar you moved down toward me, you wanted to pick me up, didntcha?" PJ asked with a smile.
"Um, sure, yeah," I admitted, a little embarrassed. "I was after this pretty ass all right," I added, smacking PJ's round butt.
PJ smiled triumphantly, having had his attractiveness verified, and then waved his still hard dick at me with a silent request. I went down, swallowed a goodly portion of it, and felt it grow and throb in my mouth. I barely got my lips off it before it spewed forth several bursts of white lava. On my face, on my hand, on PJ's belly.
Before I fully realized what was going on, PJ was off the bed, wiping his stomach and dick with a towel and climbing into his briefs. I stared at him with half-hard cock in hand from the bed.
"I, uh, didn't come yet," I reminded.
PJ kept dressing as though he had a very important appointment to make.
I began to whack off in earnest, sensing that I wasn't going to get much more assistance tonight. But I tried again.
"I'm, uh, having some trouble coming tonight, PJ. Looks like poor little Tony here isn't going to get the relief he needs," I added, waving my dick at him.
"Well, if you can't come today, come tomorrow," PJ advised, as he opened the door to leave.
Didn't anybody teach those Kansas City boys some manners?