The Church Parking Lot

I was twenty-five, single, in grad school.
To the world, to family and friends, I was
A shy hetero, a busy student
Without a girlfriend at the time. No one
Knew about my undisclosed desires
To do certain things with another man.
I had longings that scared me, because I
Could not square these urges with the others,
Namely, to find a sweet girl to marry
And start a family, to have normalcy.
This was a heartfelt goal, not just one that
The world at that time insisted I set.
For I was, and remain, captivated
And enchanted most by the feminine.
Still... there was, and is, this other matter:
It was horrible and fascinating.
And I had never had the nerve to act,
On the need, out of fear, out of worry.

Some years earlier, as an undergrad,
At my first college, I had discovered
A certain restroom where there had been made
A small hole in the divider between
Two stalls. And when I sat there, the first time,
I saw through the aperture, an engorged
And sumptuous penis being slowly stroked.
I was transfixed, utterly hypnotized ,
By the throbbing flesh on display for me.
I was working my firm rod, in return,
For the benefit of this strange partner.
Would he enjoy the reciprocal view?
But it would only take moments, before
I erupted, spewing hot, white lava.
Then, feeling so ashamed, I fled the scene.
This would repeat a day, a week later;
Yet nothing would happen, because of that fear
To take the next step; fear always stopped me.

Until years later, in graduate school;
One day I saw a note in the paper,
That a meeting would be held, that same night
At the local Unitarian church;
A support group for bisexual men.
How frightening it would be to show myself
At such an event, revealing the truth
About me! Scared, yet, I needed to go,
Thinking that maybe I would meet someone.
It was winter. I parked, and went inside.
Nobody was there. In a few minutes
Someone else came in, looking sheepish.
He said, “Are you here for the support group?”
I said yes, but since there was no meeting,
At least not yet, one of us proposed that
We might wait in one of our vehicles
And chat. He had parked next to me. He was
Taller than me, a little husky, but,
As normal-looking a late-twenties guy
As you might hope to meet. His name, Donnie.
We got in my car, facing the church doors.
I was nervous and knew not how to start.
I can't recall what we said at first, but
He did mention that he was married, with
One kid, and a second one on the way.
He said, “My wife would kill me if she knew
About this part of me...” He then told me,
Of a past fling with a man - his doctor!
(I was so jealous of him. I could see
In my imagination, all details;
How it would be, in a closed exam room,
To be half undressed with another man
Who was in authority over me,
And was using me to serve his urges.)
Eventually I had the nerve to say
That the real reason I came to this church,
Was that I was hoping to meet someone
With whom I might have a sexual tryst.
I was psyched when he said that this too
Was his ulterior motive. So now
One kind of awkwardness was replaced by
Another, as I thought how to proceed,
How to get the statement out there, that I
Needed no further persuasion, that I
Wanted that man-contact I'd never had,
But had pined about so much - wanted it
With him. Eventually these words were said,
Somehow. I told him how I had never
Touched a man, that I envied his affair,
That I had been on the receiving end
Of oral sex given me by women,
But had no idea how it would feel to
Perform this act of pleasure on a man.
I so wanted to find out – would he help?
He smiled yes, said he would reciprocate.

How to go forward, now? Sitting there
In my Volkswagen Rabbit, in the lot,
With the engine running to keep us warm,
I suggested that as a start, maybe,
We could both take out our cocks and simply
Jack off together. He was hesitant;
He did not like being in this public
Place, in a car, yet there was nowhere else
To go - I had roommates. Then finally,
I convinced him that just sitting there with
A minimal amount of disruption
To our attire, and with easy view
Of the parking lot and the one entrance,
Via my rear-view mirror, there could be
Little danger of being caught. There was,
In any case, not a single soul there.
(If there even was a meeting starting
We didn't care. We'd found what we came for.)
He agreed. Mind you, by this time I had
Become very hard and was so aching
To get my stiffness out of the confines
Of my jeans. As I unbuttoned my fly,
My heart accelerated, and I watched,
Breathless to see at last his handsome tool.
Just as I got my dick free, he had pulled,
From behind his lowering pants and briefs,
A gorgeous erection – literally,
It sprang out. He was as hard as I was,
And bigger, at that – I'm on the small side.
It was beautiful, perfectly sculpted,
Perfectly curved, thick, plump and circumcised
(Like me) - And we began slowly rubbing
Ourselves in silence. How long did it take
Before I asked him if I could touch it?
Of course, he said. So from the drivers seat,
I keep my right hand on my own stiffness,
And leaned over to gently wrap left-hand
Fingers around the base of this warm shaft.
His approval was a soft hum. It was
The first time I had touched another man
Where it mattered. I was so mesmerized
To be able to slide and grip and stroke.
It was so damn alive, pulsing, yearning.
And soon, a bead was forming - his pre-cum
Was pooling up on that luscious fat head;
He had a mushroom head that looked to me
The most succulent and forbidden fruit.
And I thought quickly, what would I do next?
I wanted to go down, but was unsure.
Was I ready to commit to finish
A full-out Blow Job? - I could not decide.
I was so anxious about that last step;
Would it take me past a no-return point?
Would karma leave me bereft of females?
I told him I wanted him in my mouth,
But I was not sure if I was prepared
To go to completion. So would it be
Okay if I just tried it for a while?
He smiled. He was so sweet. Of course, he said.
And I slowly leaned further to my right
And down, where I watched it, on my approach,
So hard, and now with a big glistening
Translucent pearl of the fluid he'd share.
I had tasted my own pre-cum hundreds
Of times before, and loved that sex essence.
Heart racing so fast, anticipating
The exquisite taste of another man,
To be all mine to savor and swallow,
I leaned in, thought about how to take it.
I put my tongue out just enough so that
As my mouth gently settled, that liquid
Warm and thick was smeared into my taste buds.
My Dear God, it was hot and delicious.
Tastier than my own had ever been.
I felt his entire head, sensually,
Inside the confines of my own wet mouth,
Could feel my lips press the shaft on all sides,
This elicited moans from him and I,
And I let my tongue slide and press along
That smooth underside, so silky and slick.
I thought about how long I had wanted
To do this. And now, I was doing it,
I was sucking a cock, and I loved it.
I was finally giving a Blow Job,
Like I had fervently wanted to do.
Eventually I slid off him, because
I needed to ask him if he liked how
My wet tongue had performed up to that point.
It was important to me, that he know,
That his sweet hard-on was the master here,
And that I was its dutiful servant.
He did like it - then he was down on me,
And I laid my right arm over his back
As he worked me wetly - it was lovely,
But I only could think of sucking him.
We traded oral sessions one more time,
But then for reasons I cannot recall,
We simply returned to jacking ourselves.
At this point I was needing to release,
And I said as much - before anything
Else could happen, we both came – squirting hot
Loads onto napkins I had waiting there
In anticipation of pearly mess.

Then immediately after all this,
He asked me if I felt bad – we had talked
Earlier about guilt and shame and dread.
Yes, I did feel ashamed. He understood.
He wrote down his number and left it there
On the dashboard. Then he was in his car
And gone. I drove home feeling like I had
Done something very wrong. And on the way,
I balled up that paper with his number
And tossed it from the car. Never would I
Find him now. My guilty side felt assuaged
By doing this. In the days that followed,
I tried to forget, tried to imagine
Myself simply heterosexual,
As I would tell anyone, if they asked.
I did not want this strange complication.
And soon I would join his ranks -I'd marry
Have a couple of kids, try to forget...

All in vain it was – for after I had
Gone on to take that other role, the one
That won approval from my family,
After I had gone on to that married,
Normal, acceptable hetero life,
The longing to fellate would yet never
Go away. That night never gives me peace.
I think of it every day. I think of
What I'd do with one opportunity,
One encounter, just a few hours to use.

It would be different this time. For one thing,
Although I always found it natural
To want to suck on a lovely, fine cock,
I never found other parts of a man
Attractive. Not face, chest or hairy thighs.
For I love the female face, breast and legs.
(Though I do often imagine myself
Kneeling before a man, my master, nude,
Taking his stiffness in my throat all while
My hands wrap around and grasp his ass flesh,
And squeeze and massage the cheeks as he thrusts.)
No, I am not attracted to the face
Of a man - it seems even more taboo
To kiss a man's lips than to mouth his dick.
But what I would do with Donnie this time,
Before anything else, would be to ask
If I could kiss him. This new desire
(For many years I never thought of it)
Excites me as much as the cock-sucking.
I want to embrace him and wrap my arms
Around his neck the way a woman does,
And put my tongue in his mouth, so gently,
And feel his tongue in mine. Kissing him sweet,
In a way that made it clear, that I was
Submitting to him. That I would indulge
His every whim, that he was in command,
His stiff cock my totem and my idol.
I would do anything for hot reward.

Oh, how it would feel on my waiting tongue!
To sense the pulsing, pumping hot semen,
Him twitching in relief and in release,
To taste his saltiness. God I want it
So bad. And to kiss him after and swap
His own cum back to him. And finally,
I'd complete the circle – he'll be doctor,
Instead of the doctor's lover. And I,
The patient. Pants down, lubed up, I'll ask him
As I lean over the bed, to check me,
Invite him to perform his doctor's work;
And as soon as his finger is in me,
I'll beg him to pull out his loving prick,
And slide into me – yes, fuck my ass, please.
I have never had a man butt-fuck me,
But I have ass-fucked a woman – I know,
Do I ever know – that it is the best,
The hottest, tightest episode of sex.
For that reason I would ask him make me
His little bitch and whore. I would take him
Any fucking day of the week he wished.
This is what I think of, every damned day.
I cannot have it, except in my mind,
And in my words – I crave you yet Donnie,
I still taste you I still feel your stiffness
Now the shame I feel is that I did not
Complete my utter submission to you.
And beg you feed me your spurting juice.
I wish I could let you know just how much
Your cock still throbs hard in my memories,
And how palpably I hunger for it.