Behind the BookstorebyLikesOlderMen18©
You have to be careful how you answer some questions or at least make sure you understand what is being asked. The question in my case was answered based on the knowledge of an eighteen year old kid; not knowing what was really implied or how it would change my perception of sex. The question has also brought about many of the stories that I write -- many of them being true fantasy built on the situation that was presented to me with the question -- trying in a way to recapture that moment when everything changed; well, at least the way I looked at sex.
It was a day similar to many other days since I'd turned eighteen, starting when I woke up sometime around 1:00 in the afternoon at my friend Kenny's house. Kenny and I had hung out the previous night after I got off work at 10:00. The two of us had each taken a hit of ecstasy and smoked an awful lot of pot; which is a vacation for me, since I didn't have the money to spend on drugs and Kenny -- coming from a wealthy family with parents that give him anything he wants, including money -- always seemed to have the best of everything -- including hard drugs and marijuana.
After getting up, I put on the same clothes I'd been wearing the night before when I'd left work -- they were the only clothes I had with me -- and drove home to get ready for my shift that day. My mom, bless her overbearing heart, had washed one of my other uniforms. This allowed me to take a shower without worrying if I had a uniform that was clean enough to go to work and not get hassled by my manager.
Friday evenings were always my long shift of the week and I wasn't scheduled off until 2:00 a.m. since I had to help clean the place and get it ready for the next day. After closing at 1:00 a.m., the only thought I had was getting done with my side work and getting the hell out of there; which ended up being forty minutes later when our manager let everyone leave early -- I think he had a date or something - but this was a rare occurrence on his part.
The only thing I had to look forward to was one of the two ecstasy tabs Kenny had given me -- since he wasn't going to be around -- before I left his house earlier that day. As I started my piece of crap car, I downed a tab with the Coke I'd poured just before leaving work and sat for a moment thinking that I didn't really want to go home (where have you been thinking of going all day) and headed to the one place I knew would still be open -- the only place beside home, that I could get into at this time of night -- the Adult Bookstore I had been going to off and on since turning eighteen.
The back parking area -- where everyone going into the bookstore parked -- was pretty much deserted, except for a blue '70s Chevy van parked near the back entrance and an old green Cadillac (fishing trawler) backed into a stall halfway between the rear entrance and the end of the building.
The bookstore was situated in an area of town that had once been known for a lot of distribution businesses; wholesale flowers and fruit, clothe distributers and even an egg company that I tried to get a part time job at a few years back while I was in high school. Now most of the businesses were closed or greatly reduced in size, and none -- except the bookstore which stayed open 24 hours a night -- we're doing well economically. So there wasn't usually much traffic in the area, unless it was around the bookstore.
As usual, I parked in the last stall furthest away from the entrance, so I could pull out the back alley right onto the main road which had quick access to the freeway. The space behind the store was about the size of a small country road that opened up into ten or so parking spaces. There was a chain link fence that marked the boundaries of the property and on the other side of the fence was an open field running back about a hundred yards to a river where some of the towns homeless camped out.
Many times after leaving the bookstore early in the morning and driving across the bridge that spanned the river, I'd seen a few small fires burning along one of the banks of the river and wondered about the person -- or persons -- that were camped near that fire. We're they happy? Did they hang down there most of the time or were they just stopping for a couple days before they moved on. Was it a full family or just...(there's someone in that car) I was walking toward the entrance of the store and just passing the green Cadillac when I noticed the glow of a cigarette. Through the front windshield, I could see the outline of someone in the driver's seat.
For some reason, I always get a nervous reaction when there is someone else in the parking lot at the same time as me (keep your head up) and found myself shoving my hands into my pockets and starring down at the ground. It didn't help that the ecstasy was starting to kick in and I even tripped a little as I walked (get a grip) and had to slow down to keep from falling. I heard the familiar sound of an electric car window lowering.
"Hey, buddy..." it was a male voice coming from the car, "...hey, dude...hey..."
"Yeah?" I said as I turned around trying to stay steady on my feet.
"Hey man, you cool?" His question didn't make a lot of sense to me.
"Cool?" I asked, wishing I could lean against something.
"Yeah, man...um...you know...can you smoke a joint?" He said the magic "word," because smoking pot would just intensify my high.
"Yeah...I smoke..." I walked over to his car -- if I wasn't high, I probably wouldn't have approached him so openly-- and put my hand on the roof to steady myself, "you have some pot?"
"Cool, dude..." he motioned with his hand, "come on around and let me get you high."
Again, if I was sober, I couldn't imagine that I would get into a car with someone I didn't know, but I was feeling the drugs and it did have a tendency to loosen me up. It actually felt more like a dream then real life as I walked over and opened the passenger door; I melted into the seat.
It took a few attempts to close the door. On the first try I missed the door handle and my hand grabbed nothing as it flew through the air. The second time I was able to grab the handle, but pulling it closed was another matter as it pulled halfway and then sprang back open; third time was the charm.
"Looks like you're already a little high, friend." He took a puff of his cigarette and flicked it out his window as the smoke slid out of his mouth.
"Yeah, I am." I punched him on the arm and laughed. He looked a little surprised by my forward action -- and even I couldn't believe I just did that -- but he laughed.
"Why don't we pull into the alley over here where it might be a more private place for you to smoke my joint?" (For me?) it seemed he was thinking (to smoke) the dark alley would shield us better from anyone (his joint?) driving into the parking lot and I shook my head in agreement.
The ally that he spoke of was one of the ways to drive out and exit the back parking lot -- it was the way I usually exited, but I think most people went out the other way -- so he had to park with my side of the car just a few inches away from the building so if another car did use the alley, they could pass us as they went out. It reminded me that I had driven out this way and seen cars parked in the alley as I slowly went out -- trying not to hit the other car -- I'd always wondered why they'd park in the alley instead of the back parking lot.
"You know," he turned toward me as he spoke, "this is a special joint I have for you and it's only going to intensify the high you've already got going. So you ready to smoke a joint." He placed his arm on the back of my seat.
"Yeah...um sure...let's smoke it." I was a little confused when he said "special."
"Oh, you know it...," he reached down and started to undue his pants -- at first I thought he was reaching into his pocket for the joint or something -- (what the fuck is he doing) -- as I watched stunned because it dawned on me that he was pulling down his pants, "uhh...one of us is going to smoke a joint." He grunted a little as he got his pants down past his knee and laughed. (What's so goddamned funny?).
"Wa..wait a min...minute..." I backed away against the passenger door as he now lifted his ass off his seat allowing himself to also pull his underwear down in one motion, "...what the fuck...wait...what the fuck are you doing..."
"Oh, we won't be fucking," he laughed as he now stroked his freed dick, "at least not tonight. But, you did say you wanted to smoke a joint, didn't you?"
The passenger door, blocked by the wall of the store, was out, so I tried to scramble over the seats and get to the rear door; he caught me by my coat and yanked me back into the passenger seat and held me pinned against it with his right arm. He leaned into me (his pants are down) and his lips were on mine (fuck, he's kissing you) and his tongue parted my lips as I tried to pull out of his grasp, but couldn't (he tastes like cigarettes).
"That's it, man," he stopped kissing me, "fight a little, baby, but you're going to get some cock tonight. Come on, dude, this is going to be a fat joint...probably fatter than you're used to...," he grabbed my hand and pulled it down between his legs and placed it on his dick, "yeah, baby, stroke it a little." I quickly moved my hand away. "Oh, you like to play hard to get; that's sweet, baby."
His lips were back on mine and his tongue was in my mouth as he hungrily kissed my face. The amazing thing -- and there's no doubt it was the ecstasy making me feel this way -- was how when his tongue pressed against mine (the contact) and our tongues touched -- his tongue dancing around in my mouth -- there was something pleasurable about it; (fuck, you're kissing a man) his tongue rummaging around in my mouth made my heart beat rapidly as I felt an adrenalin rush.
He stopped kissing me and sat back up in the driver's seat as I backed up against the passenger door trying to catch my breath. His dick was hard and the thought of it scared the hell out of me. (You touched it) this wasn't what I wanted but how was I going to get out?
"You know, my mother once told me the way into any pretty young girls heart, was all in the way you kissed them." What the fuck was he talking about?
"I'm not a girl...man, and you lured me into your car by saying we were going to smoke some pot." I could hear the nervous unsteadiness of my voice and I hated it; hated him for scaring me like this.
"Oh, you may not be a girl, but you're just as pretty as some girls I've met and," he was now looking at me -- with that monster raging between his legs -- and his presence was overbearing, "you said you wanted to smoke my joint." ( He calls his dick "a joint?) he knew I was thinking pot.
"I didn't say I wanted to smoke ... a ... anything...I...I..." I was lost and confused, but I hoped I could talk him out of what he wanted me to do.
"Maybe you just need another kiss, baby." With that, I crawled hard against the passenger side door -- a kiss was something I didn't need (or want) or want -- fuck, I just wanted out of his car. "Or maybe, you'd like to kiss something else?" With that, he looked down at his dick and back up at me with a smile; a smile that brought chills.
"Fuck you...fuck...fuck you..." I knew that was the wrong thing to say as soon as I said it, but I was so high I couldn't think of anything else; then I managed to come up with, "...you can't make me do this." I guess that was wrong too as his smile was gone and his eyes narrowed until I couldn't see the whites anymore.
"You will want this...you do want this..." his smile slowly returned, "...but I can also make you do this." His voice didn't display anger, but instead it was calm and patient; that scared me more.
On the other side of the car, I sat bewildered that this was really happening to me. Here I had wanted to spend a few hours after work doing something nasty, but not with someone else; well not with another guy. So I sat there sizing him up and even trying to size up the situation I was now stuck in.
In high school I played baseball for two seasons as a pitcher, and although I was tall -- at just a little over six feet-- I was still lanky and only weighed at my highest 154 pounds. Even having worked out -- and still working out -- my body just stayed toned but I wasn't a big muscular guy. Once or twice I'd been told that I had a young -- almost feminine -- look and not the masculine face -- or body -- that I had always wanted.
He sat there watching me as he started to stroke his cock again. He wasn't much taller than me, but he was masculine. His face was hard and his arms were big; so was his dick. (He's going to make you suck him off) and the thought of his dick in my mouth both excited and scared me (excited?). His eyes closed for a few seconds and I dove over the back seat again, but he was on me just as fast as the first time.
"You aren't going to win this one." He said as he pushed me back into the passenger seat, "You might as well get that straight." He was back into his seat with that monster really raging -- between his legs -- and now in his eyes.
"Please...I don't...I can't do this..." I was back against the passenger's door.
"Oh, you will." He laughed as he reached over and grabbed me by my shoulders with both hands, "Matter of fact, I'm tired of waiting." He pulled me over and I didn't resist -- I knew I wasn't as strong as he was and I was still too high.
"I don't...I don't know wha...to do." My voice was hardly a whisper.
"Don't you worry your pretty head," he actually rubbed my face with his hands and looked into my eyes as he talked to me, "I'll tell you what to do, OK?" He was calm and patient again, as if he was just helping out a friend with a difficult task (you know what he wants you to do) and I shook my head to respond. "Ok, good," he reached down and let his seat tilt back as he positioned himself so his dick was exposed, "now, reach down and stroke my cock...just like you do when you jack off." His voice was so calm and patient that he actually sounded unpleasant.
My hand didn't wrap completely around his dick -- partly because it was so thick, but mostly because I was afraid to touch him -- and even though I was aware of what I was doing, it somehow didn't seem real. He sighed as I gingerly rubbed the tip -- I couldn't bring myself to really grab a hold -- and still he closed his eyes and put his head back. Then he reached over and put his hand on the back of my neck -- rubbing it gently at first -- and his grip was firm as he pulled my head over and down to his lap.
"Open your mouth now," my face was just an inch or so from his cock and I let go of his dick as he pulled me closer, "and let me feed you this cock."
Staring at his dick, right in front of my face, I could see that it was leaking fluid out of the tip; this was new to me and I didn't really understand precum, but I didn't want his dick in my mouth anyway. At first I tried to pull back, but it was no use -- his grip was too strong -- and he pulled my face into him and the tip was on my lips (fuck).
"Bitch, open your fuckin' mouth," his voice scared the shit out of me (motherfucker ain't calm anymore) so I opened my mouth, "and take my fuckin' dick." And I got the tip of it.
The precum didn't have a taste that I remember, but my tongue felt his peeslit and the fluid that was leaking out. (Shit, his cock is in your mouth) both of his hands were now on the back of my head pushing down hard -- forcing me to take more of his cock -- and I wanted so much for this to be over. He let out a low moan as more cock slid into my mouth and I put my hands against his stomach and tried to push him away, but he just push down with more force and I couldn't fight him anymore.
"That's it, baby, now you're learning," I was accepting his cock and letting him push more in, " yeah, take that cock."
There was the sound of a car slowly driving past us in the alley and he stopped pushing and held my head in place on his cock. When he eased up, I lifted my head up and let his cock fall from my mouth as I tried to sit back up in my seat. The car was pulling past us; he grabbed my head and pushed me down until it was flat on his leg.
"Don't sit up." I could hear the car pull in front of us and stop as I watched his dick twitching up and down right in front of me, "Fuck, they're parking." He wasn't expecting anyone this time of the morning and I was hoping this might put an end to my misadventure.
There was the sound of a car door opening and movement of more than one person -- voices as they exited -- and then footsteps walking toward us.
"Fuck, this guy's getting some." The voice was muffled because the windows were up. "Hey, buddy, do you share." I could hear a couple of guy's muffled laughs in response.
My guess was that they would leave and go in the bookstore and not really be of much help to me, but then I heard the electric window lower and could tell that they were still there. When the window was all the way down, I sat up in my seat; hoping this might be my chance to get out of here.
"What's up guys?" He asked looking out at them.
"Looks like you're up," it was the same guy that was talking before, "and I guess we're spoiling it."
"Not a problem," he grabbed my necked and pulled me toward him again, "and he's not going anywhere."
"Please...make him..." I looked up as I talked and saw three guys probably in their mid to late thirties, "stop."
"Looks like you've got a reluctant one there." One of the guys laughed, "I love it when they fight a little."
"Yeah, but he's learning," he pushed my face into his lap as he talked, "to eat cock, aren't you?" More laughter -- this time from outside and inside the car -- and the situation was becoming hopeless. "Now open your mouth again, baby."
These guys weren't going to help me -- why should I think they would --after all, they were going to an adult bookstore together. Still, I looked at them with desperation -- I knew I wasn't going to win this one, but I hoped they might still take pity. They just laughed at the situation I was in and offered no help. So, I did the only thing I had left and opened my mouth (fuck, you planning on sucking them all off) and was resigned to what I couldn't stop.
He pushed down on the back of my head again, but I just let his cock slide in until I couldn't take anymore -- the drugs were effecting me and the experience became less real -- then I lifted my head until just his tip was once again in my mouth. There was something erotic about the whole thing, but at my young age --and lack of experience -- I didn't exactly realize my feelings and thought it was the drugs; my cock was beating in my pants and my heart was racing, but I still thought it was the drugs.
"You mind if we get some sloppy seconds?"
"Not at all guys..." I heard him hit the automatic door lock to unlock all the doors, "...the back seat should accommodate all of you."
The cock in my mouth seemed huge, but I had never had cock before, so I didn't really have anything to compare it to (you will soon with those three climbing in the backseat). The car rock a little as the three guys climbed in, and his hips came forward as I moved my head down taking more and letting him feed me his dick.
Soon he was face fucking me-- his hips moving forward to greet my mouth -- pushing down on my head --then his hips moved back -- letting up on the pressure so I could move back to just the tip of his dick. As the face fucking became faster, I could hear the guys in the back seat joking and laughing about the good cock sucking and how they couldn't wait for their turn.
"That's it, baby, now rub my balls while you suck me." I had one hand on his left hip and the other holding his inner thigh; my hand slid down from his thigh and between his legs until I was holding his fat nuts. (He's moaning) his balls were warm in my hand, and as I rubbed them he let out moans, but it didn't stop him from continuing to ram his cock into my face. He pumped his dick in and out of my mouth and I was now doing something that I'd also thought strange; taking a another guys dick -- that was strange -- but now I was just accepting that it was happening and there wasn't anything that I could do about it. Then I thought (he's going to cum in your mouth) about taking his cum and I could feel myself panicking again.