My Favorite Hawaiian Suck
Earlier I recounted my adventures with a huge samoan man at Aloha Tower. Although I will never forget him, I had by far the most encounters during my five year stay in Hawaii with a very special gentleman.
He was a short, pudgy Japanese man with glasses and a squeaky little voice. No one else would have given him a second glance, even a pig like myself. But I knew his secret.
The first time I ran across him I was in the parking lot rest room on the first floor. This was by far the most dangerous of the four rest rooms I knew of at Aloha Tower. The door was padlocked open til eight in the evening, when it was locked up for the night. A half dozen filthy urinals faced a half dozen filthy stalls, all with no doors. The action was out front and dirty. The last two stalls had a glory hole between them, and the last stall was my favored spot, but I seldom used the hole. With no door on the stall, it was easier for some horny local man to stand just inside my stall while he used my mouth. As I mentioned previously, I am a green-eyed haole boy in my early thirties, which made me very popular.
I was converted to Japanese dick worship in that last stall. This short, nondescript japanese man unzipped his pants and out flopped the eighth wonder of the world--The fattest, veiniest uncircumcised dick I had ever seen. Five inches long when soft, this pudgy japanese man had a silk cord tied around his dick and balls. He was impossible to take in my mouth, even soft.
Not that I didn't try. With three onlookers at the urinals, and another at the glory hole, all brown-skinned locals, I engulfed his huge soft cock for the very first time. Or at least I tried to. His head was enormous, and the foreskin that encircled it was extremely thick and baggy. It was his foreskin that was to be my nemesis for the next five years. Each time I slid my lips over his dickhead, his foreskin bunched up along his shaft so that by the time I had taken the first three inches, the base of his dick was at least four inches in diameter, his loose baggy foreskin making up a full inch of that thickness.
My only remedy was to take in more and more of his foreskin in my mouth, hoping to get it all. But I never did. By the time I had stretched my mouth on his huge dick enough to take in the veiny bag that surrounded it, He invariably managed to pump up his fat cock an additional two inches in length and another full inch in thickness. In every one of our hundred encounters, he was the undisputed victor, making me sweat and gasp for breath and choke as I tried to take all of his dick. I have no doubt that his weekly domination of a white boy with his fat cock was the greatest thrill of his life. I can tell when a trick is really enjoying himself, and from the very beginning, it was love at first sight. I loved mouth-worshipping the dick of a man whose countrymen had bombed the fuck out of Pearl Harbor, only five miles away, and he loved choking an all-american man on his thick japanese dick. He looked no different than hundreds of other middle-aged japanese men who smiled and took pictures of the Arizona Memorial every day.
Poppers were a key part of our sexual encounters from the very beginning. I myself was never without a bottle, but before I could pull mine from the pocket of my shorts, my steady suck would always pull a full bottle from his own pocket and thrust it under my nose. I took an enormous hit of the strong, potent vapors, clutching my fat prize in the other hand. Five seconds later, while he was taking his own hit, all hell broke loose. I plunged on his dick like a madman while my audience jerked off like mad at the urinals and the stall next door.
Our first encounter was also one of the shortest. The excitement obviously became too much for him. I know this because of the many, many times he deliberately held back from coming for at least twenty minutes, the two of us hitting his bottle of popper over and over again. Choking me on his dick was something he always enjoyed for as long as possible. And the sensation of forcing more and more of his foreskin into my mouth was indescribeable.
But this first time, I was completely out of my head, whispering to him how much I loved his fat cock and how I would willingly suck him off any time he wanted. Strangely enough, nearly all of our future encounters would be totally silent, except for the wet, sucking sounds and his moans of pleasure.
It was my pillow talk that finally got to him. Right after I pulled off his shiny purple head to tell him he had the most beautiful cock I had ever seen, he whined in that squeaky little voice of his, "I'm coming", and shot a huge wad of cum across my face. That was the first and only time I ever missed one of his wads. The second, third and fourth shots and subsequent dribbles I took on the back of my tongue, so I could feel and taste his sperm as it gushed out. In five years I must have swallowed more than a pint of his sperm, enough to repopulate the entire world with japanese babies. But my greatest disappointment was that when the magic moment arrived, I could only take the first four inches of his enormously fat cock, the sheer thickness of his shaft and foreskin preventing me from descending to his large, hairless balls.
I've never been able to master the art of deep throat. Even after thousands of blowjobs, I still can't take the silky head of my victims cock past my tonsilectomy scars. In Hawaii, however, I was working under much less of a handicap. Especially with Chinese men, who went for me like iron to a magnet the moment they laid eyes on me. I can't even estimate the number of young chinese businessmen who came to see me in droves once the word got out that a young, green-eyed haole was giving out blowjobs, local boys preferred.
Maybe they considered my green eyes lucky. At any rate, I have had as many as eight chinese men lined up at the urinals and waiting outside, while a ninth made eye contact with me as I siphoned the sperm out of his short, thin dick. Chinese men never availed themselves of the popper I offered; But it made me as crazy as it always did; and they invariably shot their thick, creamy loads less than a minute after I deepthroated their rock-hard five inches.
But I digress. For the first time in my memory (which stretches back to the tender age of ten) I was more turned on by the effort of sucking the cum out of a cock than by the cum itself. So the second time we met, in the underground parking garage restroom at Aloha Tower, I was more than happy to labor over his fat cock for a full twenty minutes until he seemed to decide that the time was right, his cock finally went fully hard, and in little more than a minute he was shooting his thick sperm down my throat by way of my tongue.
I must've spent dozens of hours sucking his limp dick. Never have I been turned on like that by a limp dick. I do love taking a cold, limp dick in my mouth in a filty dark restroom and feeling it expand in my hot mouth; but this was different. I was so happy sucking his soft baggy cock with the silk cord tied around the base that I didn't care if it took him an hour to cum. But it seldom took more than twenty minutes; with Japanese precision, the hundreds of times we got together for a session it took almost exactly twenty minutes each time. I had to perform the labors of Hercules before he would relinquist the sperm I craved so much.
After several sessions in the dark privacy of the underground parking lot restroom, we moved into the back of his nondescript white van with the tinted windows, and in broad daylight and with hundreds of straight people walking all around me my japanese master fed me popper and watched inscrutibly as I gagged myself on his cock until the tears ran down my face. Once he had me securely in the back of his van where he wanted me, our sessions never lasted less than twenty minutes, often lasting thirty minutes or more. Each time I would be reduced to a mindless, sweating, exhausted sex toy before he would finally grunt again and again as he pumped himself dry on the back of my tongue. He never complained about the last two inches of beautiful brown veiny cock I could never succeed in taking. Although I did succeed in taking one additional inch over five years. But even If I were an accomplished deep throat artist, I doubt I would have been able to take his enormous head down my throat. At least that was what both of us thought.
After five years and hundreds of sessions, the time finally came for my departure from hawaii. We had spoken perhaps two dozen words between us in the five years of our acquaintance. Except for one time when he invited me out to his fishing boat for an entire saturday with him and his best friend. I still regret to this day that I did not take him up on his invitation.
The last time we were to meet, only I knew it was to be the last time. I would be leaving the islands two days later. Today an amazing event was to happen. For the first time, with no special effort on my part, his bulbous, purple dickhead would slide effortlessly down my throat, enabling me to take that last inch I had been struggling over for a full two years. It started out innocently enough, In the parking lot rest room where I had first met him. The two of us were brazenly out in the middle of the floor at lunchtime, onlookers peeping and jerking off in the stalls and at two of the urinals, when without warning after a huge dose of popper and renewed determination I felt the silky smooth, bloated head of his dick pop past my tonsilectomy scars and slide effortlessly down my throat. His baggy foreskin was encased fully within my bulging cheeks and for the very first time, his hard, engorged balls mashed themselves flat against my face.
I don't know which of us was more surprised and thrilled. I felt him expanding in my mouth, but after a full five minutes of sucking I was fully stretched and capable of taking all but that last elusive inch. When that inch disapeared for the first and last time, he came to an immediate decision. He whispered to me to meet him at out favorite peep show on Hotel Street, and I nodded my consent with every last inch of his FAT seven inches buried in my mouth. As soon as I agreed, he pulled his beer-bottle sized cock out of my mouth and left.
Once I arrived at the peep show, I ran into a minor distraction. For the last two years popper had for some idiotic reason been made illegal, but I had found a source for overseas popper. A tall, light-skinned local boy in his late twenties, grossly overweight with a huge bubble butt was my source for overseas popper. I had purchased at least twenty bottles of the real deal for twenty dollars apiece from this understanding young man. But there was just one catch--I had to suck his dick first. Not just once-I had to give him a knobber before each and every sale.
Ordinarily this would not have been a hardship, but this poor boy was cursed with one of the smallest dicks I have ever seen. My popper salesman had a dick only one inch long when soft. I'm not kidding. His pitiful little head accounted for most of that inch.
But much as I hate to brag, yours truly could coax performance from this shy fat local that he had previously only dreamed of. On our very first meeting I was able to coax a full four inches out of him. He came so hard that he went weak in the knees, an effect I have on lots of men. Immediately afterward our first transaction for twenty dollars transpired, to be followed by many more. Needless to say, he allowed me to freely sample his wares during the course of his blowjob, which greatly increased my skill and enthusiasm.
And who should I run into at the peep show but my beloved popper supplier? As the door was closing behind him as he let himself into my stall, I could see my Japanese boyfriend walking through the door. We made eye contact as the door shut and locked on me and my supplier. Out of sheer gratitude for the many hours of pleasure he had enabled me to have, I lunched on his tiny dick with gusto. Over five minutes of steady suction he grew to an incredible (for him) five inches. This was all he could take, and he spasmed violently as he came down my throat. I made my standard twenty dollar purchase and when he left, after once again proclaiming me the best dick sucker in Honolulu, I was prepared to meet my Japanese boyfriend with a fresh new bottle of popper.
I should have guessed that he would have his own fresh new bottle. Over the years, during many dry spells, he had always been well supplied. And tonight was no exception. Leaving my new, sealed bottle in my pocket I indulged generously from his bottle. Seconds later my brain burst into flames and I attacked his soft dick. For the first and last time I had control over his fat cock, taking all the baggy foreskin and swelling dickhead he had to offer. Down on my knees in a filthy peep show booth with the deadbolt firmly in place, I deep-throated my japanese lover for the last time, still amazed that I had broken all the barriers at last. This time, with the additional stimulation of having me slam my chin against his balls over and over again, he only managed to last ten minutes, but take it from me, it was a glorious ten minutes. Strangely enough, his load was not nearly as large as on all our previous occasions. I think his excitement at watching me take every last inch of his beer-can cock was offset by his disappointment at my competence. His greatest triumph had been seeing me fail over and over.
After he left I sucked off another two local men, flew to the mainland three days later and have not returned since. But I would travel far and sacrifice much for another taste of his fantastic cock.
I would love to receive correspondence from older Japanese men regarding this story. If any Japanese men can make it to Las Vegas, perhaps we can get together, since I travel there on a regular basis. Age is not a disqualifier; I have sucked off japanese boys in their teens; but I prefer older men. Just be sure to bring some popper.