Joey Pt. 01

I had to take a piss, and soon, or I probably wouldn't have thought to stop at the hospital to make use of their public facilities. I had been trying to get out on a day labor job, but traffic was slow and those who were looking for manual labor chose to take the illegal immigrants because they figured they could get away with paying them lower wages.

I walked away deciding that I'd try the new Employment Office that had been opened at one of the nearby homeless shelters for the purpose of hiring out day labor jobs that came in. Those jobs were rumored to be good paying and verified to not stiff you at the end of the day. I had avoided it because it took me one step closer to homelessness, something I was busting my ass off to avoid. After a series of bad relationships eventually found me on the streets, I got a room at a cheap hotel downtown and worked like a dog to keep it.

Entering at a side door of the hospital, I was relieved to see a bathroom sign just at the edge of a small waiting room that was empty of patients or personnel. I pushed my way into the small, quiet room and sidled up to the only urinal, which was located next to the only stall. The sink, topped with a clean mirror, was to my back. That's how small the room was.

As I stood at the urinal, someone else entered the bathroom. I looked in his direction and gave him a quick apologetic smile. He was a young Latino, somewhere in his twenties, with perfectly styled hair, large puppy dog brown eyes and bee stung cupid's bow lips. He was thin, but not particularly skinny, and well dressed in a white dress shirt and black slacks. His dress shoes were well-polished and shiny.

In comparison, I was wearing faded jeans and a nearly clean white t-shirt that didn't smell particularly dirty when I picked up off the floor that morning. My work boots had seen better days, but they were broken in and comfortable, and I planned on wearing them until they fell apart.

I finished my business and moved to the sink to wash my hands while the other guy went to stand in front of the urinal. At the sink, I used the mirror to catch a quick look at his ass. The way his slacks hung from it, it looked nice and round but small, which fit his frame. As I was checking him out, he turned and looked back at me over his shoulder. I could tell from the movement of his arm that he wasn't pissing.

I looked at myself in the mirror. My dark auburn hair was a mess of short curls, my face unshaven, my blue eyes starting to show my age. My body was hard with muscle from working day labor jobs, my forearms covered with a mass of freckles from exposure to the sun. To say I had a farmer's tan was an understatement. I was lucky to not be sunburned.

I considered the situation I was certain I was being presented with. Normally, I would just saunter over to him and suck him off, but I was growing tired of servicing every horned up stranger I met without getting any attention in return. Although I had had my fair share of dick over the past thirty-three years, I had only been blown three times in my life and I had only fucked two guys. One of whom was stoned and just curious about what it was like. He eventually made me stop, complaining that my cock was too big. It didn't seem all that big to me, but it did measure eight inches in length with a five and a half inch circumference. Not to brag, but it's a nice cock for a guy who can't seem to get anyone interested in it.

Still watching him in the mirror, he turned slightly to reveal his hard on. I estimated it to be a good seven inches, surprised to see his brown cock was circumcised. It was more typical to find Latino men uncut. His cock was inviting, but I really didn't want to suck him off. I didn't want to be his bitch. I wanted to get blown.

Considering my options, I turned and looked at him directly as I dried my hands on the paper towels provided. If this was going to go down, I had to find a way of getting him to ditch his plans for me and suck my cock instead.

I tossed the wet paper into the trash can and walked over to the stall. Entering it, I unfastened my pants and fished out my quickly hardening cock. I turned and stood in the doorway of the stall, my big cock exposed and jutting out in front of me, waiting for pleasure or rejection.

I heard his shoes on the tile of the floor before I saw him. He rounded the corner and gave my cock a quick inspection before falling to his knees in front of me. He played with it a moment, stroking it, then took it into his mouth. I thought I'd shoot my load immediately when I felt his lips wrap around the head of my cock snugly and began to suck. No one had ever sucked my cock so exquisitely before.

I sucked in a deep breath as his warm, wet mouth swallowed me whole. His throat was tight, his lips maintaining suction as he worked my cock over like an expert. The feeling was incredible, and I was soon climbing excruciatingly slowly toward orgasm. I pushed against it, not wanting the feeling of his lips, tongue and throat to end so soon. No one had ever brought me to climax so quickly, but I was powerless under his oral manipulations.

I stood there, letting this beautiful stranger suck me off, enjoying the wonderful things his mouth was doing to me until I could no longer hold my orgasm, unloading my pent-up juices into his mouth and throat. I gripped the edges of the stall door to prevent my legs from buckling under me. It was the most incredible feeling I had ever experienced.

When the guy released my cock from his lips, I tucked it in my pants. He stood, and I reached a hand behind his head and pulled him into a deep kiss. I could taste my cum lingering in his mouth, feeling the soft, subtle lips pressed against mine. I released him and smiled bashfully at him.

"Thanks," I told him. He just nodded at me and smiled back.

Before I could offer to return the favor, he rushed out of the bathroom and out of my life forever. Or so I thought.