Then and Now

I could feel my heart pumping as I drove. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. It was hard not to speed but I couldn't risk a ticket. I pulled off the highway onto the local streets. Red lights and stop signs were the bane of my existence. And the 30mph speed limit! UGH!!

I had found this place by almost by accident, a random comment about it on a chat forum had made me look for it. I had given up, thinking places like this no longer existed near me. And, if they did, the special little "extra" that I loved probably wouldn't really be there.

Then one day a few weeks ago I was driving hope from a job site and an accident caused my GPS to reroute me onto some back roads. And there it was. I wasn't alone, so I couldn't stop, all I could do was make a mental note of where it was.

Today was the first chance I got to go back.

Finally I pulled into the parking lot. I pulled to the back of the building and was greeted by an almost empty lot, just 3 cars. It was a little before noon. Not to worry I thought, I was probably just too early, things would pick up after Sunday Mass let out probably. Hopefully.

Chest pounding, cock getting hard in my pants, I got out of my car and walked toward the building. It was an old store front, the last occupied shop in a small, 3 shop strip mall. In the front the windows were covered with bright signs advertising the shop's wares, in the back they were just covered over. Signs hung over two of the doors, "Bookstore" and "Arcade". The rest of the doors had imposing looking padlocks and signs that read, "No Entry".

A guy who'd been waiting in one of the cars got out and followed me toward the building. I went through the "Bookstore" door, he must have gone through the "Arcade" door.

I didn't even pretend to look around at the merchandise, I just went to the counter and pulled out a $20 and asked the woman for change, 15 singles and a $5. She was probably around 55 or 60 years old (so just a few years older than me) grey haired, heavyset and black, huge tits in a too small bra and t-shirt showing lots of cleavage. It brought me back to college. The same sense of desire and fear and anticipation and excitement and shame filled me know as it did then.

She smiled at me as she slid the money across the counter. "Enjoy yourself," she said. Did she know why I was there? I like to think she did.

"Thank you, Ma'am," I replied as I put the $5 in her tip jar.

College was almost 30 years ago. It had been a different place, obviously. I took buses from campus to get there, transferring twice to be certain I wasn't followed. And the woman had been white and blond and probably 20 to 25 years older than me. But she'd been heavy set, what kids today would call a "BBW MILF", with big tits trying to escape a too small bra and t-shirt; much like the woman in front of me now. She had always smiled and made small talk when I purchased tokens from her. She knew why I was there and it amused her.

Once, when the store was empty, she asked me about it while I waited. Without knowing why I answered her questions. In detail. I was hard the whole time. She could see it. She put up a sign, "Back in 15" and took me in back. I thought maybe she wanted to have sex with me.

Instead, at her request, I masturbated in front of her, telling her more, feeling her big tits as I did so. I climaxed into her hands. Then, at the instruction, I licked them clean. She called me a good boy.

We only did it the one time, I don't know why. One day I went and there was a guy behind the counter; I never saw her again. I wanted to ask what happened to her, but never had the nerve. The place, and places like it, lost their appeal to me over time. I frequented them less and less.

I stopped doing it my Senior year. It was just a phase I outgrew, I told myself.

Like I said, that was almost 30 years ago. I married a woman. We had a kid. We divorced. I married another. We also had a kid. We also divorced. Like many (if not most men) I had lovers and one night stands over the years, most while I was not married, some while I was. Most were women, some were not.

Old desires have a way of resurfacing and the aforementioned (slightly racist) comment in a chat forum was what did it for me. Maybe I'll talk more about that another time, but for now it's not that important.

I realized I'd been standing there too long, it was getting awkward. I smiled and thanked her again as I turned away and walked through a beaded divider into the dimly lit section of preview booths.

Off to my left I saw a door marked "EXIT" in red letters. That would be the same door that marked, "Arcade" on the outside. I guess some guys liked to come and go without the judgement eyes of other patrons and shop staff upon them. To each his own.

The booths in college were just plywood boards, cheaply hung and painted black. Even in the booths without holes it was easy to find cracks to peek through or to lay on the floor and look under. The doors were also just plywood boards, with cheap hinges that looked ready to fall off. There were no door knobs, just the cheapest handles with the cheapest hook and loop locks the hardware store sold.

Back then were four groups of booths. Each group played a specific type of movie (straight, guy-on-guy, girl-on-girl, or S&M), 4 channels of poor quality videos to choose from in each group. That was the age of the VCR and when a tape ended, it would automatically rewind and start over. You didn't get to pick where you started watching the movie or rewind or fast forward, you just watched the same movies at the same point as everyone else in your little booth community.

The floors there were cheap, cracked, dirty linoleum that was probably never cleaned. The seats there were basically just plywood benches. The holes were rough and looked like they were made with a hammer. It was easy to get a splinter, if you weren't careful.

But this place was different. This place was clean, you could smell the bleach. The booths almost looked like they could be changing rooms in a decent mall clothing store. The doors were real doors, the locks real locks, the chairs real chairs (even if they were just hard plastic attached to the wall), the floors were ceramic tile and the there were well over 100 movies to choose from (straight, guy-on-guy, girl-on-girl, shemale, gang bangs, straight groups, bi groups, gay groups, Female Domme, S&M, solo girl, solo guy, public, pissing, etc...), all available in every both all the time.

And the machines didn't take tokens. They took bills, singles, $5s, $10s and $20s, so a person could just go in without stopping at the counter and embarrassing himself. But going to the counter and asking for change, particularly when there's a woman or feminine gay guy working it, is something I enjoy. Knowing that they know why I am there, their quiet judgement or amusement aroused me and brought on an exquisite feeling of shame in my soul.

And then there was the hole. These holes were had little doors on each side that a guy could open or close himself. Between each booth was a little piece of plexiglass that allowed peeking at each other without allowing contact. I admit I was disappointed by that.

I took off my shirt and hung it on a hook on the door. I pulled my pants to my knees and sat in my undershirt, jerking my dick. I left the little door on my side of the window open and put in a few singles.

I was found a video, supposedly amateur, of a white woman getting fucked from behind by a black lover. Her white husband was beneath her, 69 style, licking her clit and her lover's balls. The black man pulled out of her and she rolled off her husband to watch as the black cock came on his face and in his open mouth. The white husband sucked the cum and pussy juices off the (uncut!) big black cock. I imagined myself in the white husband's place. Lucky guy.

I flipped through movies and found a channel of gay public sex. The first video was obviously professional and featured a man sucking dick while taking anal in front of other people, men and woman.

That was followed by an amateur video of a guy sucking dick on the dance floor at a gay bar. He sucked one to completion and was just starting to suck a new dick when a bouncer grabbed him to toss him out. That's how the video ended.

I flipped channels again. I found one that featured an Asian Ladyboy and an Englishman. I watched in fascination as she rode his cock, her little she-dick hard the whole time, until she came hands free. Little squirts and dribbles of cum leaked from her dick slit onto his stomach. She climbed off and licked up the cum and sucked his dick (right from her ass!) until he jerked himself off and came on her face and into her open mouth. The video ended with her cum covered face smiling at the camera. She looked so good I would have kissed her if she was in front of me.

And so it went until I realized I only had $4 left. I slid my remaining singles into the slot and brought up a video of a guy sucking dick and taking anal from two other guys while a woman playing his fully clothed wife watched. His dick was in cage and she was calling him a sissy and a queer and a faggot a cock sucking cum slut. He was agreeing with her and saying how much he loved cock. It was obviously a professional video but it was still good. If I had a wife like that, I might still be married to her.

This had been fun, but ultimately a bust, I thought to myself. I planned to let my money run out, pull up my pants, put on my shirt and leave. Probably wouldn't even bother to cum.

Then little door on the other side of the hole opened. I looked through to see a thick white cock on the other side. He was semi-hard. Shaved. Balls hanging low. I knelt down to get a better look. My mouth was mere inches from him. I was practically drooling. I cursed the window between us.

He stroked for a minute or so getting himself good and hard, and then reached forward. It took me a second to realized what was happening. He'd pulled the bottom trim from the plexiglass off. Now he was trying to get a house key under the window itself to pry it out. I pushed on it lightly and it fell through, into his booth. I felt a sense of panic as i worried that it was real glass (it wasn't). The noise seemed deafening as it hit the floor.

There was no reaction from the outside world.

He stood with his hard cock still on the other side, inches from me.

I reached through and placed my hand on it. He didn't react.

I used it like a handle to pull him forward, toward me. He did not resist.

His cock and balls came thru onto my side.

I kissed and licked his balls and rubbed the shaft on my face.

He groaned.

I inhaled his musk deeply through my nose.

I licked the bottom of his balls all the way up his shaft.

I licked around the head of the cock.

I took it in my mouth.

It had been years since I'd done this. Decades really. I mean, I'd certainly sucked cocks, just not since college in a place like this. Just not with a complete stranger. Not with someone whose name I didn't know, face I hadn't seen, voice I hadn't heard. Not since college.

I think, if I'd grabbed my own dick at that point, I would have cum.

Instead I continued to move my head up and down on his dick. I kept my lips wrapped around my teeth to protect his sensitive skin. My right hand was wrapped around his shaft and rode just ahead of my lips. My left hand gently caressed his balls.

Minutes passed and my money ran out, but I kept going. I moved my head up and down, my lips holding the shaft firmly, my tongue pressed to the piss tube of the cock.

After a few more minutes I felt his balls tense. I pushed my head on as tightly as i could, gagging myself and pushing past to meet the needs of this cock. I felt the piss tube pulse on my tongue and the first squirt of cum went down my throat. I backed off just a little and stopped moving. I held the balls and felt them release my reward. The cum filled my mouth.

When he was done he pulled his cock out of my mouth. I kissed it and rubbed the tip against my face before it was out of reach.

The whole thing had taken maybe 10 minutes from the time he showed me his cock until he let me suck his dick and have his cum.

I grabbed my own dick and started jerking myself. I watched as he put the cock away. Then he put the window back and pressed the trim into place.

Still on my knees, I swallowed the cum in my mouth just before I started to cum the floor.

I knelt there, eyes closed, catching my breath. When I opened my eyes, the little door on his side was closed. The cock was gone. I realized there were many scrapes and scratches around the window, evidence of how frequently guys used keys or knives to pop out the trim and remove the window.

I looked at my cum on the floor. The nice, clean, tile floor. Other thank my mess the floor was clean. I licked the biggest gob off the floor. It seemed like the right thing to do.

Someone knocked on the door to my booth and I heard the voice of the woman from the counter. "You have to put money in the machine if you want to stay," she said.

"I'm sorry," I answered, "Just cleaning up. I'll be right out."

"Good," she said.

I took off my t-shirt and wiped up the rest. It took me maybe a minute or two to get dressed and straighten myself up enough to walk out. I could feel a little bit of cum drying on my cheek from when I kissed the cock good bye. I left it there.

When I emerged from the booth there were a couple of guys in the hallway chatting and few just standing around. They looked at me and I at them. Some gave me a knowing smile as I passed. I was spent or I might have stayed for any of them.

I emerged from the dim video booth section into the brightly lit store. I paused to let my eyes adjust.

She was at the counter, looking at her phone.

"Hope you have a good afternoon," I said as walked slowly to the exit and passed her.

She looked up and smiled at me. "You have a good afternoon, too," she said, "come back again soon."

"I already did," I said as I stepped into the parking lot, "and I think I will."

As I climbed into my car I wondered if she saw the cum on my face. I hoped so.