September 7, 2007
I walked into the New Improved Tom Cat Bookstore around 11 pm last friday night with a friend. I wrote all about the layout in my previous post so I’ll skip that part. I had a lot of time to check it out since it was pretty empty when I got there. I’m not sure if this is because it was closed during the renovation or because people had just stopped going there. In either case, I hope people find out how nice it is because it could really be fun with a good crowd there. As it was, there were less than a dozen men when I arrived and, since the place isn’t small, it seemed quite empty.
I figured I’d have the best luck in the dark area that’s half TV lounge and half gloryholes since everyone seemed to wander in and out of there eventually and it was the unofficial smoking area. I was right. I saw a good-looking, lean guy, about my age, relaxing against the wall behind the gloryholes, groping himself. I walked up to him and rubbed his chest through his shirt. He leaned in and began kissing me. Very nice. He unbuttoned his shirt, showing a furry chest, and we got into some nipple play. We unzipped and pulled out our dicks. We got each other hard but it became obvious to me that he really only wanted a blow job. I think his constant pressure on the top of my head was a good indicator of that. I politely resisted and went on my way.
A really hairy, really drunk guy stumbled around for a while in his jockey shorts. I resisted the urge to hide his clothes behind the jukebox.
I should also point out that there were other guys at the Tom Cat—younger, less hairy guys—who had a more “commercial” look. These men would probably be much more appealing to the majority of men looking for sex, if not the majority of my readers, than the guys I choose to play with. I don’t usually mention them because we’re mutually uninterested in each other. This doesn’t mean they’re not there or even that they make up a minority of cruisers. I don’t talk about them because I’m rarely interested in them.
Back at the gloryholes I saw a man’s clothed ass pressing against the other side of the wall. I went around and saw a thin, sexy guy with a jaw line beard sucking off a really hot 70s clone type. He had the mustache, baseball cap, denim shirt, black belt and black shoes, the whole bit. Nice dick, too. This is still one of my favorite looks and always strikes me as unpretentious and masculine. He did nothing to spoil that fantasy for me, thank god. He was quietly enjoying himself, looking down at the man sucking his cock. I pulled out my dick. The sucker grabbed it and pulled me closer to the clone who began playing with me nipples through my grey wife-beater He offered me some poppers which I declined. The sucker went back and forth between us a few times, spitting on my dick a lot and looking up at me. He stayed bent over, never dropping to his knees. Then he concentrated on the other guy but kept looking at me, even after he stood up. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. The clone must have shot his load because I never saw him again.
At this point I had seen an older very hairy guy with a beard and a big, round, solid belly walking around without his shirt and sniffing poppers. He was really hot for that type. As I was leaving the gloryhole area I rubbed my hand across his furry chest. It felt wonderful. He immediately dropped his pants and just stood there. I had no idea what to do. His dick wasn’t much to speak of and I wasn’t gonna blow him or anything. I rubbed his chest for a while and took off. I saw this scene repeated a few more times through the night with other people. They all seemed to have the same reaction I did. I assumed he wasn’t communicating his needs very well but maybe that’s exactly what he was looking for.
I went into the last dark room before the exit because my friend told me I could get blown there. Inside the room was a really handsome guy, around my age with a longish goatee, ball cap, wire-rim glasses and, again, a big firm belly. I stood near him and stroked myself to hardness. He leaned over and started sucking. He was very good…for a while. I dropped my pants and played with his large nipples through his sweatshirt. (Just for the record, it’s pretty chilly in there!) He started jerking me, including my balls, with both hands and said, “I want your load.” He certainly wasn’t going to get it that way. I decided to lie down on the bench and do the job myself. I tried and tired but I just couldn’t. I made my apologies and walked around the place again.
I went back to that room later and he was gone. The thin guy who blew me then didn’t was there, again bent over, sucking off a cute guy I recognized from the philly gay.com chats. His crack was showing and I reached in to play with his hole. It was wet with lube and jism. Someone said, “Fuck him,” and started to pull down his pants. The sucker undid his belt and pushed his pants down. Nice! His hole was sloppy with juices but nicely tight. He was a great bottom He grabbed my cock, brought his ass down to my dick level and backed onto me. I grabbed his hips and pounded hard. The smell of other men’s cum in a man’s hold really turns me on so I was as hard as a rock. When I slowed down he started moving forwards and back, doing the work on both ends himself. I really wanted to shoot and started fucking hard again. He moaned, his mouth still on the other guy’s cock and he backed into me with every one of my thrusts. I was on the edge for what seemed like forever. It felt great but I was past the point of no return. I had to shoot. I began long strokes, completely in and out of his hole, hearing an “Oof!” from him every time I was completely inside him. It felt like I shot buckets. My dick stayed hard after and he ground himself into my crotch, squeezing every drop from me with his sphincter. I needed a short break to recharge so I pulled out and put my pants on.
It had gotten more crowded since it as now after 2 am but I was still surprised at how few men were there. Given the nice layout, cleanliness of the place and the reasonable price I thought it would be more crowded.
I went again to the room near the exit. The man who wanted my load was there again. I knew I wouldn’t be able to shoot again so soon. We kissed and stroked each other. It struck me when we were nearly done that I knew who this guy was. The glasses were a small clue and when I reached down to stroke his dick and felt a PA, I was sure of it. I’ve been fucking his partner regularly for a couple of years. They supposedly have an open relationship but this one gets really jealous. He wrote me a nasty message about it on M4M-World once. I didn’t recognize him because he’s much better-looking than his online pics (which also don’t hint at the belly but I don’t mind that at all). His other half told me that he was moving out on Friday when I played with him earlier that week. Needless to say, I didn’t yell “I know you!!” If he knew who I was, cool; if not, why start something? Really. I helped him get off while we continued kissing and rubbing our facial fur together. He shot into my hand and I licked the fingers clean. I told him I thought he was very handsome. He returned the compliment and left right away through the adjacent back door. I wasn’t long after him.
My buddy drove me home. Luckily he has a van because I found a great TV table with a swivel top in the trash and I was able to bring it back with me. When I looked at my computer There was a message from the last guy. He reminded me who he was, as if I would have forgotten or had played with so many that he would have been part of a huge blur of men, said he had a great time and would like to play again. Well, no hard feelings, I guess, since, by that time, he must have realized who I was. I responded in kind. Nothing since, though. I’m in no hurry.
I’m listening to “You Don't Send Me” from Dear Catastrophe Waitress by Belle & Sebastian.
Posted by HighStrungLoner in Sex at 2:46 AM
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