Sex Histories	Sex Histories Archive

Somewhere in America­ I realized that I've enjoyed reading so many of the true sex stories you've compiled that it was high time I contributed some of my own true sexual experiences.

I just turned 30. I have been a dedicated cruiser for about 17 years now.

I'll have to take you up on your offer of anonymity because this is a city filled with judgmental people. Although I'm proud of being a safe sex slut, I just don't need their aggravation.

The first time I ever had sex­ during a pubescence spent dreaming about it­ was in a public restroom. That event shaped my life. I am most comfortable and most aroused standing in front of a raw of urinals with one or more strangers displaying their hard ons nearby.

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I have long had dreams that take place in labyrinthine men's rooms like the ones in the film Prick Up Your Ears, and I always keep one eye open for that sort of scene.

After a couple of years of cutting back on my cruising as a result of the current health crisis and anti-sex backlash of the 80s, I decided that I wasn't being true to myself. I loved tea room sex and there was no reason to pretend I didn't.

I made a few modificatians in my behavior. Even for sucking now I always use rubbers now, which I've actually managed to fetishize to the point of almost not seeing them as an intrusion. I like to suck lots of cock and I like to feel the shaft pulsing against my tongue as the cock spills its seed into the rubber. There are lot of people who suck but don't swallow and do so without rubbers and that is their choice to make. But when you suck as much cock as I do (I sometimes go through two 12-packs of rubbers in week) I figure I'll stick to the safes.

This city is not the warmest or cruisiest environment. There are only two porno theaters left and no peep shows a result of the city government's efforts to shut them all down. Public tea rooms come and go; just as they get hot they shut down. Of the two porno theaters, one is gay and actively discourages cruising one is "straight" and the place where I have most of my public sex.

Last Monday I decided to play hooky at work and go cruising at that theater. It had been a while since I had the chance to go out cruising for some good old fashioned pig sex.

Originally a vaudeville house, the theater has a men's lounge and tea room in the basement. I got there around 12:30 in the afternoon, just in time to have a few businessmen for lunch. I was lucky enough to get a seat in one of the three doorless stalls that face a wall of four old-fashioned urinals; you almost have to take a number sometimes. I dropped my pants and took my place at the farthest left-hand toilet. I stroked my dick­ average thickness, about 6" when hard, extra large Irish balls­ so that passersby could figure out what I was up to.

I gotta tell ya, it was my lucky day!

I saw some guys I've had sex with there in the past and many seemed to want to come back for more. There were two guys who happen to be a couple of the handsomest men I've ever blown, both there that day both with 8" to 10", no lie. Both of them showed up at the same time and were cruising each other, which seemed logical because they're both hot and well hung.

Only the handsomer and a little bit smaller of the two was interested in sex with me that day, but believe me, I'm not complaining! He's balding and has a moustache and that day he was wearing a grey pinstriped suit. He's got a nice smile and at least 8". The backs of his hands­ which I made him wrap around my head­ were covered with dark brown hair, which reminded me of the hairy chest I had felt through his shirt the last time I blew him.

This time I made him plow my mouth and throat for an eternity. He smiled in recognition as I unfurled the rubber down his great big shaft. I took both of his hands and placed them on the back of my head. He slowly started to hump his pecker into my mouth, his hips in rhythmic swaying motion. All I could see was the undone zipper of his dress pants and a dark thick bush advancing to and retreating from my face. The sound of my slurping was surely audible outside of the stall.

His hands drifted away from my head and floated up to the walls of the stall, which he gripped, all the time maintaining his humping action.

I glanced up with his shaft still poking in and out of my mouth. His eyes were almost shut and his mouth was slightly curled in a grin. I popped his pecker out of my mouth. "How's it feel?" I asked. He answered by shoving his cock back in my throat and fucking it harder.

After a few minutes of this he pulled out, explained that he had just gotten to the theater, and that he wanted to watch some of the movies.

I told him to come back anytime and I have no doubt that I haven't seen the last of his delicious meat.

There was another guy in a suit probably 6' 6" tall and very nervous looking. He kept walking by me and staring at me as I beat my meat but never venturing into the stall. He was there for as long as I was, which was several hours, but he kept to the same routine of just walking by me and looking in.

By about three in the afternoon the construction workers started their daily end-of-shift arrival. There weren't as many­ and they weren't as eager to get their cocks sucked off­ as there have been on the Friday afternoons I've found myself in the theater. But I did manage to suck off one dark-haired, husky beauty. He had on a denim jacket and pants, work shirt, boots, and a wedding ring. He was one of those guys who's in a hurry, but I love a quickie.

His cock was about the same size as mine and a little thicker and he eagerly humped away at my mouth and throat until he let out a groan.

At this point I tried to readjust myself on the toilet­ I was leaning so far forward I worried I might fall off­ and he must have thought I was going to pull away just at his magic moment. So he grabbed my head and held it there as he pushed his meat to the back of my throat. I had to tilt my head to the left to accommodate the onslaught and avoid choking. He kept pushing and then let out a groan. I could feel five strong pulsations on the underside of his cock.

As he pulled out of my mouth I slipped the rubber off him and tied the end. I shoved it in my pocket as a souvenir for later.

A good deal of time went by­ waiting for dick to suck can require the patience of a Buddhist monk­ but at some point close to dinner time that guy who had been just observing me and avoiding my invitations to join me showed up again.

He went into the center stall immediately to my left.

Naturally, although none of the three stalls has a door, there are giant glory holes in all of the walls. I watched as he pulled his dick out of his navy blue dress pants and started playing with it. He is one of those big-nosed, large-featured guys whose dick, not surprisingly, was also a large feature. I imagine it was 8-1/2 inches and rather thick, one of those meaty/spongy ones. He also had a real dark bush that contrasted beautifully with his light skin.

After playing with his own dick for a while and bending down to see if I was paying attention (which, of course, I was), he stuffed it back into his pants and zipped up.

I figured now was my chance and as he walked past my stall he glanced in my direction. Again I motioned for him to come in but he looked panicked and kept walking.

Well, he resurfaced 15 minutes later and yet again I motioned for him to join me in my stall.

Apparently feeling very horny or bold or both he came in and stood in front of me. I tugged his tie so he would lower his ear down to my mouth. I could tell he was sort of nervous about the thought of contact so I said, "Why don't you take it out of your pants and show me what you were doing in the other stall?"

He looked nervous.

I said, "Come on, show it to me man."

He pulled out his cock and started stroking furiously, not six inches away from my eager face. To my delight, his pecker got much bigger than it had appeared through the hole.

I started blowing hot and cool air on his shaft and I could tell he didn't want me to touch his prick, but man my mouth was watering for it.

I kissed his balls lightly, which seemed to disturb but also arouse him.

After a few minutes of this I decided he was sufficiently aroused that maybe I could interest him in something else. Plus I figured if I didn't make my move I'd lose him when he had another panic attack.

I pulled a rubber out of my pocket and held it up for him to see.

When he and focused on it and realized what it was he nodded. (It's amazing how accommodating some guys are. They don't want you to touch them but you show 'em a condom and they'll do anything you want.)

I rolled the condom down his hardening shaft and swallowed his rod in one gulp. It's a good thing it wasn't the first cock of the day or I could never have handled it and would have gagged like an amateur.

He groaned.

I took his hands and placed them on the back of my head. I wanted him to fuck my face. Hard. Why is it you have to practically convince people to treat you rough? I mean, that's what i wanted!

So he really started thrusting his hips and it didn't take too long before he was pounding away. It seemed like it was involuntary, like he couldn't stop if he had wanted to.

Personally, I love being on the receiving end of such an experience. It's as if you've become part of a well-oiled cocksucking machine set on perpetual motion.

So what did I do? I pulled his cock out of my mouth. I swear his pupils were burning red. He wanted back in!

I tugged on his tie again and he impatiently leaned his ear down to my mouth. I had started to fantasize that I was a delivery boy getting his mouth reamed by a strapping and horny businessman. "Wouldn't it be great," I whispered hoarsely "if you could bend me over your desk at work and fuck the shit out of my ass?"

He smiled and chuckled and shoved his dick back in my eager mouth. Of course, most men who cruise the theater don't want to engage in ass play right out in the open like that and I only want to do it when I'm very horny. Which at this point I was.

He pounded my mouth for a few more minutes, and I mean pounded. My eyes were watering, my nose was running, and I even choked a couple times at the overstimulation of the whole thing. It was nice and rough.

Then he pulled his cock out of my mouth. He grabbed me with one hand under my left armpit and reached around to my ass crack. He lifted me to my feet and spun me around. I couldn't believe it. He really wanted to fuck me right then and there. I was startled and unprepared, but I really had been asking for it.

I said "Wait a minute" and fumbled around for the small trial-size container of Foreplay lubricant I knew was buried in my condom pocket. I even took another condom and rolled it on top of the other one (just to be doubly safe). I slathered some grease on his double-covered penis and shoved some up my rectum with my right middle finger.

He put his right hand on the back of my neck and bent me over the toilet and POP! He shoved his huge hog about three quarters of the way up my hole.

I get fucked maybe once or twice a year at most, so I'm sure it was a tight little crevice for his above-average schlong. It burned like hell for about two seconds until he began his relentless thrusting. He found the same rhythm he was using on my throat and I knew there was going to be no stopping him this time.

But stop we did when his dick popped out. I was amazed that the condom looked pretty clean; as I mentioned I hadn't planned on this so there was no telling the condition of my canal. I gasped for breath and he started to remove the rubbers.

"Don't," I said heatedly, "not without sticking it in me one more time."

He shoved me down roughly again and burst right in me. This time he shoved the entire way in and it didn't even hurt for two seconds. I thought I was being driven to Nirvana and couldn't wait for the throbbing feeling as he delivered his billions of sperm. He rammed it in and out, holding me roughly under my soaking wet armpits. I could feel his bush scratching up against my ass cheeks with every inward push.

It was heaven. I couldn't believe it. This was exactly what I wanted, exactly the way I wanted it.

I glanced over my right shoulder and gave him a lascivious smile to let him know how much I loved his pecker up my hole.

He smiled slightly and shoved me back down.

My head was bumping into the tiled rest room wall with each of his rough plunges.

But before he shot his dick popped out again:

He had probed so deeply that this time the rubber was a little less than pristine, which made the guy look a little nervous. So I carefully removed it myself (which is easy to do in a no-mess way when you've got a clean one under the dirty one).

He looked somewhat relieved that he didn't have to touch anything that he didn't want to touch, so I pulled him down to my ear again and said, "Why don't you stroke that thing right in my face?"

I put my face as close to his uncovered cock as I could get without his pounding fist hitting me. He started pumping his prick and huffing and after maybe 25 strokes he groaned real low and long. Squirt! The first splash went up my left nostril. Squirt! It glued my left eye shut. Squirt! Right on my moustache dripping down over my lips and to my chin. Squirt! Right on my lips. Squirt! Another one on my lips.

By the time I got a wad of tissue to my nostril and eye and looked up the guy was zipping up quickly, like trade always does when it finishes coming.

He was out of the stall long before I had composed myself and finished cleaning up my face.

As I sat on the toilet with my pants around my ankles and cum drenching my face, three guys who had apparently been watching our sex extravaganza started clapping!

I bowed a little bow and wiped off my face with a wad of toilet paper, feeling some of the cum start to dry on my chin beneath my beard. It left a lovely sperm scent on my face which I could smell for the entire subway ride home.

P.S. If you like this, I've got tons more.

Editor's Note: The above writer also does "serious" writing for other publications but he evidently realizes that nothing is more serious than a hard on and I hope to run more of his work in my next book. ­B. McD.

Author Profile:  Boyd McDonald

Born in 1925 in South Dakota, Boyd McDonald entered Harvard as a high-school dropout after serving in the army in World War II. Jobs with Time, IBM, and several Wall Street firms preceded Boyd's career as a chronicler of gay sex. He was the founder and editor of Straight to Hell (alternatively the Manhattan Review of Cocksucking), and later published a number of anthologies of true sex histories. Boyd died in September 1993, two months after completing his final book, Scum.