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So there's this fag that comes to me whenever I feel horny, literally anywhere. He's had my cock in any place you can think of. I got his number off a public toilet wall, below a picture of a dick drawn with magic marker.
I've always seen fag numbers before and didn't believe that somebody would put their real number there. This one said: "Wanna have your dick sucked? call/text 555-7561. This is for real"
Well, it did say that it was for real and my horniness was also for real so I decided to give it a shot. I decided to give the text route a try. Just in case somebody answered that didn't sound like I'd want him to suck my dick.
"Hey, I'm straight. Wanna suck my dick?"
It didn't take three seconds for the answer to come.
"You at the toilet?"
"Yeah."
"Give me three minutes. Stay in the stall."
Who was I to argue with the boner that was forming in my jeans? True to his word it didn't take long and there was a tap on the door. I opened it and quite a cute looking little guy snuck in, quickly closing the door behind him. He didn't waste time talking, just sank to the floor in front of me and started gumming my hardon through my jeans.
I liked him already. He knew what he was: a cocksucker and he didn't need me to buy him dinner afterwards. I could see a future for us.
I put my hand behind his head and forced his face into my jeans. He groaned and I slapped the side of his face lightly to quiet him down. Then he really groaned and I could tell that he liked it.
Our relationship was developing at a fucking furious pace. I felt my hardon begin to leak in my jeans and I pushed him away roughly and while he looked at my fly like a dog waiting for a bone, unzipped and freed my oozing dick.
He was on me like a shot as soon as it was swinging in the breeze.
I gotta say: I have a beauty. All eight inches of it is a work of art. And this queer liked what he saw. He moaned as I smacked his cheek with my fuckpole. I grabbed a handful of his hair and stuck it straight at his face and he opened wide. I thrust my hips forward at the same time as I pushed his faggot head towards my crotch. It went in deep and straight down his throat. He coughed and choked but didn't pull off and I liked him even more. By this time we were making quite a racket but I decided I didn't give a fuck, cos anybody that heard us would only be jealous of the hot noises that were coming from our stall. There was probably a queue already.
I thrust into his throat and he took me like a pro. I knew I wouldn't last long so I didn't hold back. I literally used his throat like a pussy on a stick. He slobbered and sucked when he got the chance but for the most part he just took it like the fucking cocksucker he was.
My personal Fuckface.
I liked the sound of that.
It had a nice ring to it.
That's what I'd call him: "Fuckface"
"Hey Fuckface you ready for my load?"
He nodded and I could hear him fiddling with his pants. Fuck me if he wasn't jacking himself with my dick down his throat. Oh well, I suppose he deserved a little pleasure with the sterling job he was doing.
Faggot-queer must just make sure he didn't get his spunk on my shoes.
"Hey Fuckface just make sure you don't get your faggot spunk on my shoes."
Again he nodded. As much as he could with my dick now pistoning in and out of his throat like a jackhammer. I was doing him good and I could feel my juices start to boil in my balls. Shit this was good. First time being sucked by a guy and I already decided it wouldn't be the last. This little queer was going to be my personal fucktoy.
"You like being my fucktoy, do you?"
He nodded again.
"Yeah, I thought so. Fucking shit-eating, cum-munching Fuckface."
That did it for me. Hurling abuse at him in a public stall just flicked my switches big time and I held his head with my dick all the way down his throat while I shot my straight squirt down his faggot-hole. I became aware of the smells around me: the piss, the sour smell of men dumping their loads, pissing on the seats and on the floor in front of the porcelain, and the whole lot just got to be a huge fucking turn-on. I could feel squirt after squirt of my hot straight man-juice pouring down this spunk-eater's gullet and I knew I was hooked. For good measure I took him by the hair and shoved his head in and out to get the last slimy feel of his spunk-sipping throat on my hard dick.
Then with a thrust that sent him over backwards, landing him on his back with his faggot dick waving in the stinking toilet air, I put my dick back in my pants with difficulty and, stepping over him lying in a puddle of his own cum on the floor, said: "I'll be in touch."
"You're a fucking mess, aren't you ashamed of yourself?" I flung over my shoulder as I closed the stall door behind me.
There was an old bloke standing at a urinal. He was jacking his cock furiously as he watched me walking out of the room.
I felt like a king
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