Hey guys, I just had an unexpected and random encounter I thought I'd share with you. I had dinner with two girlfriends at a place called the Turkish Grill on Queens Blvd and 42nd in Queens, New York. The food was amazing, but more interesting was the waiter, a young Turkish-American guy, maybe 25 years old, lean and muscular with spiky black punk hair, dark middle-eastern facial scruff, tight black pants that showed a nice crotch and perky soccer ass, and a sly smile.
All through dinner, he kept shooting me glances, but each time I looked back at him he gave me a kind of contemptuous stare, as if he knew I was a fag and he hated me. At the end of the meal, he brought us Turkish coffee, which is very thick and has a lot of 'mud' at the bottom. I commented on it, and he offered to show me how they make it. I demurred, not being sure what I was getting myself into, and thinking I didn't want to make a scene in case I came onto him and he decided to yell at me or something.
After we paid and were getting ready to leave the restaurant, I headed to the bathroom. In front of the bathroom door are stairs going down to the basement, and I saw the sexy Turkish waiter standing a few steps down, looking at me. He raised a finger and gestured for me to come toward him, then pointed down the stairs. He took a few steps down and turned back to see if I was following. Again he gestured for me to follow him, so I did. As soon as we were in the basement, which was mostly dark, dirty, and smelled of rotting vegetables, he put one hand on his crotch and, with the other, pointed at it, as if telling me that's where my attention belonged. I took a step closer to him, and leaned in close to his face, intending to kiss him. But as I moved in, I felt a hand on my shoulder pushing me down with enough force that I didn't try to fight back. I sunk to my knees on the filthy cement floor as his other hand unzipped his fly and yanked on the belt to open it.
Within a few seconds, a very hot and veiny cut cock came into view, dark-skinned and surrounded by black wiry hairs, with the glisten of precum at the tip. I knew we had to be fast as my friends were waiting, and he probably had other tables to attend to. I thought I could blow him quickly, get my reward, and be out of there within three minutes. But as soon as my lips encircled the head of his cock, I felt both of his hands take me by the ears, and his cock started piledriving my throat. I was only about 8 inches, and not the thickest I'd taken, but the way he was digging it deep into my throat made me start to gag. And each time he felt my throat spasm around his cock, he stuck it in deeper, digging and burrowing into the soft folds of tissue inside of me. After gagging maybe a dozen time, my eyes tearing and my nose running freely with clear snot, I finally did the worst and threw up a little into my throat. He looked down and me and ordered, "Swallow it!" I did, his cock still in my mouth, and as he felt me swallow, he slammed back into me. Wth a few seconds I had gagged again, and vomited more this time, my whole mouth filling with it. Again he ordered, "Swallow it, faggot!" And I did, the head of his cock still between my lips. Disgusting, I know, but that's what happend.
Then he commanded, "Drop your pants." So I spit out his cock, covered in my slime and snot and tears, and opened my belt, pulling out my hard dick and balls. "Don't show me your dick bitch. Bend the fuck over!" So I did. For a second he put both hands into my crack, feeling the hole. I heard a sniff, as if he was checking his fingers to find out if I was clean. Of course I usually douche when I'm going out, just in case of a situation like this, and I was not only clean but also fairly well lubed. He reached his hand around to my face and, after wiping at the snot pouring out of my nose from the brutal facefucking, put his hand in front of my mouth and ordered, "Spit." He used my snot and spit to lube his cock, and without any warning at all, slammed into my ass as brutally as he'd fucked my throat. I gasped instinctive, and loudly I guess, and instantly felt his fist crack into the back of my head. "Shut the fuck up! If you make a single sound I will kick the shit out of you!" he hissed at me in a very loud whisper. For about two minutes he slammed into me without mercy, each thrust resulting in the slapping sound of flesh on flesh, as I held onto the side of a shelving unit for support, the boxes and cans rattling and shifting as the wire shelves and I were rocked by his brutal fucking. And then I heard his gasp -- a massive intake of breath as both his hands grasped my hips and he drove so deep into me I could feel the heat of his swelling cockhead in my guts. In complete silence, he jerked and spasmed maybe six times, holding me completely still with total force as his hot seed rushed into my ass.
As I felt his cock start to withdraw from me, I straightened up, using the shelves to come up from my bent-over position. By the time I had turned around, he had his back to me, and was reaching down to pull up bis briefs and pants, which were down around his shoes after the violent fuck. I was surprised to see, in black ink on his right butt cheek, a tattoo I've seen many times, and fantasized about getting for myself. I have jerked off many times daydreaming about taking the cum of a dude with a biohazard tattoo, and now I could see I'd just been fucked savagely and bred by one. Before I could say anything, he grabbed his pants, yanked them up, and ran up the stairs two at a time while tucking his shirt into his waistband and cinching his belt.
Within a minute, I made my way upstairs and into the bathroom to get myself cleaned up. Then, with some trepidation, out into the restaurant to find my friends. The waiter had his back to me as I came out, and it was clear he was avoiding me. So I left. I found my friends outside, both talking on their cell phones, and we ambled off to the subway station, them to their boyfriends, and me to my apartment alone to finger and eat the waiter's cum from my hole while I jerked off remembering every detail of our encounter.
Copyright 2009 by Marco Esteval. All Rights Reserved. Contact MarcoEsteval@yahoo.com for permission to reprint.