My fantasies can be yours.....
The premier party took on wings of it’s own. I have a vision for things as the day gets closer. Tag Adams, Montaz, Taurus all meet in my place the morning of. My vision changes with the wind. Not necessarily changes. Better to say, grows. I wouldn’t consider myself a creative person. I am more the type to take real life and make it happen. That’s what I have done with Pokin in the Boys Room. It’s about a bar owner who creates an atmosphere where bi sexuals, bi curious, straight boys can have their cake and eat it to! http://monsterbang.com
Having once been married. Having once needed the lips of another mans mouth on my cock to bring me satisfaction. My wife certainly did what she could to the best of her abilities. It just wasn’t enough. Wasn’t her fault. There was a constant ache. Burning desire to be with a man. Feel his breath on me. Worshipping my man hood. Unbeknownst to me at the time. My rather large man hood. Having failed physical education through out my "shower room" years. I wasn’t made privy to the fact that my cock was larger than most. Not until coming out of the closest. Having done video work and hearing the comments did it start to dawn on me. I had something folks wanted. Before joining the wonderful world of homosexuality. I would wait in the stalls of the bathrooms until someone would step in. I would already have my cock in my hand in anticipation of the person joining me in the stall. No door on the stall made the scene just that much more intense. What if it were a true straight person. Just passing by to take a piss? Walking UP on me with my cock in my hands. My trying to keep the load from squirting out at the moment I knew he would be peering in to the stall. I’ve done that before. Waited so long for someone to drop in. Having to get back to work or on with my day. Jacking off for an hour or so. Keeping the load at bay. Can’t wait any longer. Need to blow it and get back to work. I had to expend the load. Waiting, waiting for the shuffle of feet on the concrete floor. Now, one squirt after glorious squirt of white semen would be flying through the air. Hitting the ground. Sometimes, I would stand UP and see how far it would shoot. Having it hit the partition. Sliding down as the shuffled feet came around the corner. I wouldn’t even make eye contact with him. I would stay in the ecstasy of the orgasm. Allowing him to watch, walk away, drop to his knees to catch the pearl drops in his mouth.
"Mental note made" That one, of course wouldn’t go down as a straight man. He was too quick to lick UP the load off my fingers. He had done this before.
A host of experiences. I had also done this before. Time and time again. I could pretty much time the exact moment the person entering the bathroom would come UP on me. Come UP on the acts I was performing on myself. Or, the acts someone else was performing on me because I was already being serviced by the passer by from earlier. Damn, what fun times those were. LOL! Hours and hours spent. Loads of cum spent on the dirty, grimy floors of park bathrooms, bar bathrooms, rest stop bathrooms. Yes, what if? Sometimes they would walk away shaking their heads in disgust. Mumbling under their breath. At that I would throw my cock back in my loose sweats. The pre cum dripping out of my piss slit. Sliding down my leg. I couldn’t resist a quick swipe to lick it off my fingers.
The waiting time for him to get the courage to step in to the stall was unbearable at times. More times that not. He finally would. I wouldn’t have my cock totally out this time. I would have him (my cock) hard, erect and ready to spring in to action though inside the looseness of my sweats. He, (straight man, bi curious) would lean UP against the wall so as to be able to see if someone was to come in to the bathroom. Looking at my hands rubbing the inside of my thigh. The thigh that had a rather large, long, thick growth on it. We would watch each other for a minute or two. I would keep my eyes on his. His unbuttoned pants. His eyes never leaving the antics of my cock. Bouncing UP and down in very hungry anticipation of what would happen. Would he drop to his knees? Would he reach down and stroke the inside of my thigh? Would he unzip his pants. In just as hungry desire. Shove it in my mouth? One could only hope, eh?
I was willing to wait for his first move. His eyes finally reaching mine. The questions of concern were there. What if someone walked in. What if we were stroking one another. Could he trust me not to tell? All sort of emotions going through his mind. The eyes are the windows to the soul. Believe that! Our hard pricks swollen to the point of explosion. The desire gets the best of him. He reaches down. Touches the outside of my sweats. I don’t hardly move. Nor breath. This could possibly be the first time this man has touched another mans cock. I fucken love this! I love the chase. I love the anxious look. I’m not about to scare him off with my hasty desire. This is what I have waited so many minutes, turning in to hours at times. LOL! My desire to have his hardness in my mouth. I am sitting on the toilet. Even without touching himself. The scene has his swollen girth eye level. Lip level to my waiting throat. As he reaches down, "Can I touch it," the straight man asks. "Oh yeah, you can touch it," I smile with just as much desire as he has. I am just as nervous as he. That’s all part of it. I reach his hand UP to pull my sweats down. He gets even more nervous. Looking towards the door. I assure him I will hear if someone should walk UP.
I wonder if his cock drips in pre cum as mine did after all the playing it had. Waiting for him to arrive. The bathroom stalls have writing on the wall. Meet me here from 11 am to 1 PM. I wonder if he is the one that wrote that. No matter. He is here now. I love to look in their eyes. The wonderment of my meat. My own self not aware of the power I have between my legs. The many men that will continue to show UP here even after I have long gone. Waiting in anticipation of "that cock" they had in their hand. In their mouth. The load of cum they witnessed spewing from the piss slit.
There was a bar I use to frequent in Ventura. It was called, The Library. They had "fag night" on Thursday. The folks that ran the bar were "straight." Door men, bartenders, bar backs. Sexy fucking straight men. Eye contact made with them. I would walk to the bathroom stall. Get busy on my cock. I really wasn’t aware at the time of the largeness of my cock. I was aware that should my cock be out and on it’s way to it’s majestic size. There would be interest. One time, one on his knees looking under the stall. One looking over the stall. Standing on top of the sink. I was so caught UP in myself. The pleasure I was getting out of fondling my ball sack. Bringing the hardness to full glory with their faces in mind. I hadn’t realized they had snuck in and were watching me. I finally did take notice of them. Throw my cock back in my pants. Well, fumbled it back in my pants is more like it. My length and girth not allowing me to just throw him back in. They slid away as silently as they stole in. Smiling like Cheshire cats. Nothing was ever said between us. Fucking hot! HOT, I tell you HOT! Just the smiles across the room. The stares of their friends as I became topic of their conversation. How they watched and caught that faggot over there jacking off in their "straight boy" bathroom.
Can’t wait to get my cock in you.
Until next time...
Keep it hard and well lubed.
Michael and Monster Brandon
