Sex Shop Foot Job

Sex Shop Foot Job

With almost two third of the Spring done and dusted, Melbourne's weather remained atrocious, which curtailed my outdoor excursions with Daniel. With blasting wind and savage rain, the thought of dropping one's trousers in a foetid alleyway did not appeal to either of us.

The following weekend, I decided to visit the State Library and conduct research for my doctoral thesis, which involved transcribing data from documents over 100 years old that had never been previously published. The data would then be analysed for trends that supported my working theory. A tedious, thankless task for most people but not for me, and the work kept me from thinking about my cock for several hours.

With a coat and scarf tightly wrapped around me, I exited my place. Twenty minutes later, I hopped on a tram that deposited me outside the enormous granite structure that houses Victoria's impressive library collection. As usual, I had to battle my way past the typical array of soap-dodging social justice morons to get inside.

Several hours later, I had a thirst for beer and considered wrapping up for the day. It was a surprise then when I received a text from Daniel.

"What are you up to?" He asked.

"Not a great deal," I responded before explaining why I was at the State Library.

"The missus is out with friends this evening, so I wondered if you fancied a beer?"

"Sure, sounds good."

"Okay, let's meet at Young & Jacksons in an hour?"

"See you then."

With the time available, I packed up my computer and other research materials. I made my way down Swanston Street to the iconic Melbourne drinking establishment opposite Flinders Street Station.

As was typical of a Saturday, Young & Jackson's was packed, but I secured a table and waited for Daniel. When he arrived, he was dressed in his usual sense of fashion that put my own to shame. To be fair, wearing the best clothes is not something that excites me, but I admire those that have an eye for fashion.

What struck me most about Daniel's appearance was his super-tight jeans that looked sprayed-on. How he got into and out of them was a mystery to me, but as he strode up to me, grinning like a Cheshire cat, I noticed his very pronounced bulge, almost like he was already hard. If I could see his boner, then others would for sure.

"So, how was Lyndal?" He asked after returning from the bar.

"Our date went exactly as predicted," I replied.

"Good or bad?"

"Not great," I confirmed, "She used me for all she could get out of me and hasn't been in touch since."

"Did you get anything out of it?" He asked with a comically raised eyebrow.

"I bought me and her plenty of beers and a nice burger each," I said, "Such was the cost of getting laid."

"Oh, do tell."

I recounted what happened when I met with my old flame, Lyndal, on the Sunday following my last outdoor encounter with Daniel. He knew about my history with Lyndal, our swinging days and the fact that she cheated on me. I also told him how she married a squaddie, moved to the shithole of Townsville and was convicted of stealing government data concerning the personal lives of celebrities.

"Sounds like someone to avoid," Was Daniel's advice that rang in my ears nearly a week after meeting with Lyndal.

"As you know, we met at the Polly Island at lunchtime before coming here then getting the train back to her place."

"Where does she live?"

"Cranbourne."

"How classless," Snorted Daniel, "Wait a minute. Don't those swingers live there?"

"Yeah, I asked Lyndal whether she was in touch with anyone from that club, but she told me all her previous Melbourne lovers lost interest following her high-profile conviction."

"A likely story," Daniel said, "Are you in touch with any of them?"

"Nah," I replied, "After Lyndal and I broke up, I cut them off."

"Then you moved to the UK and then Western Australia?"

"Yep," I confirmed, "Even with the 'magic' of Facebook, I've kept well alone."

"A wise choice," Said Daniel, "What happened at her place?"

"We shared a bottle of wine purportedly made by her parents, which was god-awful before I made a move on her."

"Oh, man," Scoffed Daniel, "Why, son, why?"

"Drunk and horny," I shrugged, not enjoying Daniel's disapproval, "But I wanted a return on my investment."

"Did you get it?"

"Yes and no, oddly," I frowned, recalling the event, "We fucked for hours, but it lacked the magic of what I remember."

"No, not the same energy or chemistry?"

"Certainly not," I confirmed, "While I was fuelled up and ready to go, Lyndal was languid, passive."

"Submissive?"

"To the point of lacking imagination," I said, "All those years ago, sex was passionate and mutual, each of us taking turns, going out of our way to please the other."

"And now?"

"Well, she spread her legs and let me do whatever she wanted but fucking her was one of the least most erotic experiences ever."

"Worse than that woman who you pretended to come for just to get her to stop?"

"Not that bad," I laughed, "But Lyndal was so 'loose'?"

"Loose?"

"Yeah," I replied animatedly, "Her attempt at a blowjob was terrible, her pussy had no tightness, and I couldn't feel much from her arse."

"Anal on a first date?" Daniel laughed, "Impressive."

"Anal on every first date where she rolls, I'm sure."

"Any positives at all?"

"Well, she let me urinate on her in the shower."

"So, not a total loss then?"

"No orgasm for me and a much-depleted bank account," I replied, "Would have been cheaper with a hooker."

"And you'd have received a happy ending."

"For sure."

"Never mind, at least you got your dick wet," Daniel laughed, "Put Lyndal back to the back of your mind where she belongs."

"You're definitely right," I said, "Especially since she has not returned my texts or calls."

"Why the fuck would you contact her?"

"Well, as I said before, I felt used then and now."

"You should never have gone there to begin with," Daniel sniggered, "You've only got yourself to blame."

Daniel, who was older than me and married, spoke with genuine affection about my mistake with Lyndal. He was not jealous of any personal contact I had with other people and often encouraged them if they appeared healthy, so long as he continued to 'serve me'.

Following several drinks at Young & Jackson's, we ventured to the recently renovated Duke of Wellington, further up Flinders Street. The weather was appalling, and it made for a difficult journey on foot.

Both Daniel and I were pleased with the newly refurbished pub, reputedly to be Melbourne's longest, continuously operating tavern. The cheaper drinks certainly made us happy. As we chatted, I did not detect any indication that Daniel was seeking action that night, but his constant bulge was enigmatic. He was rock hard, and the tight jeans only confirmed my suspicion. At times, Daniel was jittery, constantly squeezing his groin and making frequent toilet breaks.

The dreary weather and the depression I felt because of Lyndal made it hard for me to feel horny. Daniel's presence and advice were comforting, however, and I was happy in his company.

The next stop on our impromptu pub crawl found us at the Exford Hotel, a popular establishment on the edge of Melbourne's China Town.

"Remember our first meeting?" I said as we huddled in a dark corner, "This is where we came for a post-sex beer."

"How could I forget," Daniel replied in an unnecessary hushed tone, "You came harder than I was expecting."

"Well, if those scud videos were your guide, then you were woefully underprepared," I laughed.

"In a good way, though," Daniel agreed, "That gay porn was so lame."

"But the ones we watched are so typical of the genre," I opined, "On my favourites list, there is only one gay porno on it."

"Why did that make your hallowed list?" Laughed Daniel.

"The third scene is between two twinks, one of which is an Aussie," I said, "The action is pedestrian except at the end when the Aussie guy asks for a golden shower."

"Geez, you're obsessed with that," Daniel jested.

"No, I'm obsessed with anal sex," I clarified, "I have an interest in golden showers."

"A deep, preoccupied interest."

"Yes, I tend to think about it a fair bit."

Little did I know that my interest in anal sex and golden showers would converge a couple of months into the future with twenty-something woman I met online.

"I'm intrigued, I'll admit," Confessed Daniel, "Just give me time."

"Hey, no rush," I smiled.

"I want to take your cock in my arse before anything kinky like golden showers."

"Fair enough," I joked, "It's not like we have the weather for it."

"No, but..." Daniel trailed off.

"But what?"

"Well," He stammered, "And don't think I'm weird, but...."

Again, he trailed off.

"Out with it, man!" I demanded.

"I'd love to hold your cock when you next take a piss."

"Why is that?" I asked, intrigued by the request.

"The other week," Daniel stuttered, "The raw power of your cock pissing in the rain was impressive and very erotic!"

"Glad you liked it," I said, thinking that I've never held another man's cock when they pissed, "Now, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"It's obvious you had a hard-on since we met," I smiled, "What's the deal, Viagra?"

"No, not the blue pill," Daniel grinned before becoming serious, "Please don't think I'm weird."

"Yeah, you've asked that already."

"Well," Daniel looked around nervously, ensuring that no one was in earshot, "I'm wearing a pair of my wife's tights."

"Under those jeans?" I asked incredulously and a little bit too loudly for Daniel's comfort.

"Shh," Daniel hissed, "Yes, the combination of tights and these jeans makes me incredibly horny.

"That explains the hard-on then," I said, "You've done a commendable job containing yourself."

"Well," Confessed a visibly embarrassed Daniel, "Polite company and all."

"How long have you been wearing your wife's underwear?"

Daniel shot me a quizzical look, correctly surmising that I knew he wore more than his wife's tights.

"For years," He confessed, "Frequently at work."

"Kinky!"

"Yeah, it helps me focus on work and gives me tremendous orgasms throughout the day."

"You jack off at work?" I asked.

"Multiple times a day," He confessed before I admitted the same, although I watch an incredible amount of hetero and bisexual porn.

"Same here," Said Daniel, relieved that his secret pantie fetish did not disgust me, "The feeling of my wife's sexy lingerie - she doesn't know I steal them. By the way - which I jack into gives me tremendous orgasms."

I reached under the table and squeezed Daniel's raging cock. He shook in surprise and pleasure at my bold public move.

"Not here," Daniel shuddered, "I'm close to blowing my stack."

"Mm, nice," I hissed, not taking my hand away from his pulsating mound while growing hard myself imagining taking his hot seed down my throat.

Seemingly reading my mind, Daniel suggested the sex shop in Chinatown where we first met as a place to hook up. Said shop was the seediest establishment located in the seediest street of all Melbourne.

"Perfect," I said immediately, "Let's go!"

We scurried the short distance to the sex shop while trying vainly to avoid the rain. After paying the entrance fee and accepting the free condoms, Daniel and I bypassed the gay cinema and ensconced ourselves in the least odious private rooms we found.

Inside was a stain-ridden mattress, a wooden chair, a box of tissues, a distinct smell of stale sperm and a window that offered scenes of the worst of Chinatown's culinary waste practices. Hardly a romantic setting, but Daniel and I were not romantically inclined.

Once the door bolt was locked, Daniel attacked me with vigour and had my pants whipped off within a minute. Dropping to his knees, my raging cock was deep down his throat, and we both grunted in mutual pleasure.

"Okay, so here's what I want," Panted Daniel with a smack of the lips after ejecting my glistening shaft.

He rose to his feet, kicked off his shoes and shimmied out of his jeans, revealing his legs and groin encased in sheer black lace. The enormous stain in front of his cock gave away his absolute state of arousal.

Daniel produced a small bottle of personal lubricant from his jacket pocket, then squeezed a generous amount on his hand and massaged it into my cock. His deft handiwork almost brought me off.

"Bring the chair closer to the mattress," Daniel explained, "You sit down, and I'll lay on the bed."

I complied with his instructions, and he brought his silk-clad feet up to my crotch. He told me to clasp his feet to my throbbing and lubricated shaft and hold them in place for a few minutes. I admit that the sensation of his feet wrapped around my cock was new and highly pleasurable.

But what happened next was utterly unique.

"Take your hands away," Daniel insisted as he wrapped a hand around his lingerie-covered cock.

Skilfully, Daniel used his sheer-clad toes to work my shaft gently. Shortly afterwards, my pulsating cock was gripped in the space between the tows and the heels of his feet.

"Fuck me!" I groaned, "That feels amazing!"

"Really?" Daniel gasped.

"You'll bring me off quickly if you keep doing that!"

"Good, I'm almost there."

A mutual orgasm between partners is a fantastic orgasm, regardless of how quick they come. Coming together with Daniel was a powerful experience.

My balls spat out ropes of volcanic sperm all over Daniel's stocking-laced feet. When the first blast scorched his skin, Daniel erupted in an expletive-laden rant as his white seed splattered across his wanking hand.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" We yelled in unison as our nut sacks spewed out all they had in mutual orgasmic bliss.

Daniel's feet and groin were saturated in hot male sperm, and we both collapsed and enjoyed the waves of pleasure.

"Feed me!" Daniel pleaded.

Not sure, initially, what his request meant, I sat, motionless, on the seat, satiated.

"Come?" I asked, eventually.

"Yours and mine!" Came a breathless response.

I scooped up the tendrils of jism that adorned Daniel's feet and wiped my fingers against his proffered tongue. He swallowed immediately.

"Yummy," He moaned, "More."

I fed him as much as I could capture from his feet before turning my attention to his crotch. I was impressed about how much he ejaculated, more than my climax, I thought. Daniel's gorgeous cock spasmed each time I touched it, and his shaft remained in a permanent state of semi-tumescence. I could have swallowed him whole there and then, but Daniel was a reluctant pleasure receiver.

Daniel stood up and ripped the stockings from his legs and threw them into the cum-soaked bin in the corner when he was satisfied.

"Won't your wife miss those?"

"She'd already chucked them in the bin for a single hole."

"You retrieved them from the bin?" I laughed.

"Yeah," Daniel confirmed, "The seediness added additional exhilaration."

"It sure looked that way," I said, compliment Daniel on his load.

"I could do with a piss," He said, pulling his tight jeans up towards his crotch.

"Oh, really?" I said, "You hold mine if I can hold yours?"

"Deal."

"Toilets are on the second floor," I observed.

"I've got a better idea," Daniel said as he struggled to open the sash window in the centre of the room, "Over here."

"What have you got in your filthy mind?" I asked, standing next to him.

"Let's go," He replied, "Out of the window."

"Dirty bastard!"

Nevertheless, there was something comical about pissing three stories down into an alleyway corrupted by Chinatown's culinary filth.

We gently grabbed each other's quivering penises, closed our eyes and focused on expelling our bladders. Mine was easiest because I was thoroughly deflated. Daniel, though remained semi-hard. He pushed and grunted, but eventually, his stream followed mine into the night's driving rain.

Daniel's pulsing shaft in my grip had an unexpected arousing effect on me, and, as my stream petered out, my shaft began swelling again.

"Looks like someone wants to play again," Daniel giggled as my cock hardened in my grip.

"Water sports tends to cause that reaction."

"I'd love to blow you again," Said Daniel turning to me.

"Let's 69," I said.

"I...I...," Stammered Daniel, initially uncomfortable with the idea of mutual pleasure, but the steely-eyed stare I gave him convinced Daniel that resistance was futile.

We stripped off, and I pushed Daniel down hard onto the crappy mattress before I straddled him and fed him my hardening cock. Daniel's cock stank of urine and sperm, but that drove me on. I throated him effortlessly, especially considering how out of practice I was.

Cupping his balls and orally adoring his cock, Daniel announced he was about to climax again. I stuck an uninvited finger deep inside his dirt box, and he ejected his pitiful load down my throat. So violent was his orgasm that I never got to taste his seed.

My climax required some serious effort from Daniel. After he softened in my mouth, I climbed off him and sat back in the chair. He crawled towards me and swallowed my sparkly pole. Within minutes, I forcefully stood up and grabbed Daniel's hair and announced my final orgasm of the evening.

"Stick your tongue out," I ordered, "Look up at me."

"Oh, yeah," Mouthed an expectant Daniel, "Give it to me."

And I did.

What my body ejected over Daniel's face and on his tongue mainly was translucent and watery. While that final climax was enjoyable, it lacked the strength of his foot job. The silky-smooth movements of Daniel's feet on my cock was nothing short of magic, and I vowed to experience that pleasure again.

Completely satiated, Daniel and I made a discreet exit from the sex shop and took opposite trams outside the State Library, where this whole crazy episode began. As we hugged, Daniel leaned in for a kiss before remembering the golden rule. He looked embarrassed, but I said nothing, and we parted friends, ready for the subsequent encounter.