Getting Covered - Part 3 - Gay Encounters, Urination
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This is part 3 of this ongoing story.
This series is a compilation of real life encounters and fantasy merged together. It will depict many different fetish themes over the subsequent chapters. If you are not interested in m/m kinky gay sex, this is not for you. If you are, get ready!
With the married businessman's card safely in my pocket and cum drying on my skin, I walked out of the bathroom.
The lobby was still pretty empty but there were more patrons than when I snuck away for the fastest two hookups I've ever had. I was as turned on as I was self-conscious, sitting there with a noticeable tent in my sweats, a pearly sheen on my face, and sticky residue splattered on my gym gear.
Luckily, when I returned to my seat, the beige girly had moved on from photographing her latte to taking "casual" selfies sipping it so she didn't seem to notice the gooey mess on me or how long I was gone.
While I waited for my laptop to boot up from sleep mode, I opened my phone and posted on the message board of the app that my gym stalker had found me on.
"Blow your load on my face."
It was vague, but hopefully, it would get the ball rolling. I hoped I might even find another willing donor to utilize the handicapped stall again while I was camped out at the hotel.
I gave my creamy bulge a squeeze and took a sip of my iced coffee, tasting the older man's lingering seed as I swallowed. I tried to focus on work, eagerly waiting for another potential load to add to my collection.
It didn't take long for me to get a response.
There were quite a few when I checked the app - mostly flakes, guys too far away, or just interested in trying to get me to fuck them or suck me off. Some were hot and I would have engaged for a potential hook up but I was in a mood and on a mission - I wanted to get covered in as much cum as I could.
I was always horny but it was rare for me to feel this submissive and willing to engage in the discreet world of anonymous gay sex.
I couldn't help myself from groping my cock through the cum-dampened fabric as I scrolled through the possibilities when one caught my eye.
"Stop by my hotel room. I love blowing my load on a cocksucker's face."
The message was followed by a picture of a nice-looking cock sticking out from a dense bush resting on the bottom lip of an open mouth that had a thick glob of white spunk on his tongue.
I eagerly checked his profile and after a quick scan of the little information provided - thirty-three, five foot eight, one sixty, discreet, six inches cut, and a picture of an average torso with a bit of chest hair.
I hadn't gotten any work done, and I wasn't sure it was the best idea but I couldn't help responding.
"I want your load man. Which hotel?"
I was about to ask for a face picture but to make sure this didn't become a huge back-and-forth, I decided against it. I sat with nervous excitement, holding my phone close to me and looking from side to side as if someone might know what I was up to.
"I don't have much time."
I sent it before I lost my nerve. It wasn't a total lie, I did have a meeting later but if I went to his room and felt uncomfortable I had an out.
"Continental. Room 1612. I've been edging all morning, won't take long for me to paint you. Door unlocked. Come in, get on your knees, and take my nut."
It was perfect - exactly the kind of situation I was looking for and too convenient to pass up. This guy also had a commanding tone in his messages which further excited me. I closed my laptop, shoved it in my bag, grabbed my jacket, and headed for the elevator.
"Headed Up"
I took a deep breath outside his door and gently pushed it open. The room was surprisingly bright, the curtains were drawn back allowing the gray light through the large windows.
I took a quick scan of the small room and saw my newest donor on the bed, spread eagle, stroking his fat, shiny cock. He was pretty average-looking and a little thicker in his midsection than in his photo but attractive in his own way. I had made it this far, and I wanted another layer of spunk on me.
"Sup," he said with a nod and started to sit up.
"Hey," I said as I dropped my bag and coat by the door and took a few steps towards the unmade queen-sized bed.
Another deep breath and I dropped to my knees as he scooted to the edge of the mattress.
"You want my big load?"
"Fuck yeah."
The words were out of my mouth without hesitation as I kneeled in front of him, watching his hand glide up and down his swollen meat from the tip
"I been edging for hours bro," he smiled down at me, and stood closer, "It's gonna be a lot."
"That's what I want," my voice shook as I sat back on my heels and looked up at him.
He was so close his knuckles almost grazed my face and I could smell the lube he'd been using mixed with the musky scent from his thick bush and hairy, tightened ball sack. I took a few deep inhales.
"You like the way my nuts smell?" he asked in a low whisper.
"Fuck, you smell good bro."
"Want to taste them?"
I hadn't planned to do anything other than be the target for his pent-up spunk but without a second thought, I was extending my tongue.
"I love a good ball licker, almost as much as a cocksucker."
He slowed his stroking as my tongue lapped at the damp skin stretched over his throbbing nuts, making him shudder. I could feel the heat from his cock as it pulsed against my cheek. I sucked both of them into my mouth, savoring the salty taste as my nose pulled in his scent.
"Fuck that's good. You really want my load, huh?"
"Uh huh,"
"Hungry cum slut aren't you?"
"uh huh"
The dirty talk was just exciting me more, making my cock leak precum, mixing with the first load that covered me earlier. Something about this average man - one I could take down with ease, one that looked like the type that usually wanted to worship me - verbalizing my desperation was thrilling.
"Keep sucking those balls, fag."
The word made me freeze I was torn in that instant, the hairs on my neck stood up. Being called a slut, a cum hungry boy, admitting to this total stranger how badly I wanted his load on me - all added to the moment but being called a fag by someone I don't know made me feel uneasy, and the reality of how risky this was flooded my mind. Being used by another "straight" guy was hot but being humiliated by one never sat well with me.
"Fuck, you want it? You want my sperm, you nasty slut?"
Luckily, I didn't have time to worry about the potential doom. My oral attention to his balls and his hours-long edging session had him pulling back, stroking furiously, bringing his flared, dripping head to the brink.
"Fuck, open up faggot!" he growled.
I tilted my head back as I parted my lips just as the first hot rope of jizz flew from his piss slit and hit my forehead with a surprising force. The tail of the first blast ran down my nose and another spurt shot across my parted mouth.
His body shook while he muttered garbled obscenities and insults, adding at least six more thick dribbles of hot sperm onto my beard and into my mouth.
When his cock was finished spewing he gave the head a squeeze, thwacked his softened shaft on my coated tongue, and let out a satisfied sigh.
"That was great, thanks man," he smiled and flopped back on the bed.
"No prob, that was hot," I replied as I swallowed his salty jizz, "How long in town?"
Maybe I could stop by again for another quick load, I thought, licking my lips and pushing myself up off the floor.
"Few more days. My husband is coming tomorrow for the weekend."
"Gotcha," I said, hiding the surprise of him being another fag like me.
"He might be down to join. He's the more dominant one."
Knowing he was gay and his husband was even more dominant made me feel equally safe and turned on at the prospect of both of them blowing their loads on me while talking nasty down at me.
"Hit me up,"
I slipped out of the room and into the hallway with a dripping smile on my face.
I was so turned on when I left by the third quick blow and go of the day I didn't even check myself out in the mirror or wipe any of his seed from my face.
I licked my lips as I waited for the elevator and felt a buzz in my pocket. I got a text message from a number I had saved with the initials DC and the eggplant and British flag emojis.
"Hungry?"
A smile crept across my lips. I hadn't heard from this number in a while, and as excited as I was for the potential anonymous blow and go's through the app, there was a relief at knowing where my fourth load was coming from.
"Starved!"
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