Lifting his eyes, Lasso stopped cold. Before him, a young man was laying flat – on his regular park bench. It was midday in Seattle, more specifically, midday above, and south of Seattle. This bench was set on a hill, high above the city. From here, both stadiums could be seen, as well as the Columbia Center – but not the Space Needle. The Needle was too far north.
On the bench laid a man who looked to be in his early twenties. He was dressed in dirty steel-toed boots, dingy jeans, and a gray long-sleeved sweatshirt. On his head, the man had a black beanie-hat pulled down over his eyes and nose, leaving only his lips and clean-shaven chin exposed. His skin was dark, with an olive tone.
Italian? – Lasso wondered as he approached.
As he got close enough to see over the back of the bench, Lasso spied the man’s noticeably veiny hands at his own crotch. Out of the zipper-hole of the dirty jeans rose the most spectacular erection. Olive in color, like the man’s chin, the cock was similar to a perfectly vertical tower – with rays of sunshine, mixed with moving shade, washing over it.
The man’s scrotum was still hidden in his trousers, but this enormous cock was fully outdoors. Although aroused, the man wasn’t stroking. Instead, he was pressing hard on each side of his open zipper – on each side of his cock. As his muscular hands continued to push down, his bulbous cockhead appeared to swell by the second. At the base, the man was putting so much pressure on his groin, the girth of his olive shaft swelled like a football.
What is this about? – Lasso asked himself. He wasn’t exactly sure, but he knew that he liked it.
Lasso was an old gooner from Capital Hill. He used to jerk off in the street during Pride events. Clothed women walking through the crowd would pose for photos with his hard cock. During that time, his balls garnered eight golden rings which pushed his sac tight – down four inches from the base of his throbbing fuckstick. Back then, he’d walk around all day with a fucking super-hard erection, wearing nothing but flip-flops. Releasing his scrotum from the rings at night, his cock would almost sigh in relief – becoming flaccid for the first time since breakfast. The hours of unrelenting pressure kept Lasso sore, but the next day, he was out in the streets gooning all over again.
Now, he’s here, observing a man put the same immense amount of pressure on his own cock. So beautiful.
From his approaching foot-fall, Lasso knew the man was aware of his presence. Without reaction, the man continued to make his cock swell. Lasso moved around to the front of the bench, looked out over the great expanse, dropped his trousers – and sat down.
As a result of years of stretching and rose-budding his anus, Lasso’s cunt had no problem pushing down onto the stranger’s fuckstick. Precum had been running from the man’s pisshole, down the swollen shaft for some time anyway. This provided ample lubrication.
Lasso’s weathered asshole swallowed the beautiful young cockhead. He hesitated for a moment, just after the knob, and then continued his ride – down to the zipper. The man, with his eyes and nose still covered by the cap, didn’t react much, except for a slight shift from the extra weight on him. Lasso, now seated, opened a small Tupperware of green grapes he’d brought with him for a snack. He was still enjoying his bench, same as always, well, except for the fact that a strange man was inside him. Lasso popped a grape into his mouth and looked toward the warehouse district of South Seattle.
He reflected on the time he worked for two fucking queens down there. Interior design company. They’d run him from Everett to Tacoma – and twenty miles east. He’d design-plan a home in Greenlake or Sammamish, having to deal with the most up uptight fucking couples on the planet. He’d spend weeks with these snobby bastards, finally get the design plan down – only to have Roger and Lorenzo change things up on him. Sometimes they’d change things up so much, that the clients would cancel the whole thing. Of course, Lasso would only be paid for completed designs. Fucking queens. Lasso felt his love-pocket tensing around the cock impaling him.
Memories affect the body – he thought
Shutting that memory down, Lasso scanned the panorama to the north, locating the homeless shelter just above the stadiums. He’d lived there for a while when the drug scene nearly took him out some years back. He was hypersexual then, jerking off as many as a dozen times a day. Lasso would run into a McDonald’s restroom and cum inside the urinal in less than a minute. Most people prone to this type of perversion, would have gone into the stall to stroke. Not Lasso. An hour later, he’s running behind a dumpster at the gas station on Denny way. He’d shoot his load all over the side of the green waste-collection receptacle – and then he was off to the next. The shelter bed and shower, the public library, porta-johns, underpasses, in the park with a jacket covering his cock, or just running into the woods – he was cumming all throughout the day. Lasso’s output of cooze at that time, rivaled Starbuck’s output of coffee.
Just then, Lasso felt an upward push from underneath, and then – a retreat. Another push – and then a retreat.
This guy’s fucking me! Glorious! – Lasso said to himself with delight.
His own cock started to fill with blood. Realizing this, he caught himself, and held. He wanted this strictly for his cunt.
Sitting cross-ways on the man, Lasso leaned forward some, onto his toes – as to give the stranger a wider range of motion. The young man started to smoothly pump his amazing tool in and out of Lasso’s ass. A wet sucking sound seemed to grow louder with each stroke, It was Lasso providing the lubrication now.
Sun and shadow coming through the trees, Lasso thought of how good life was for him now. Alex, his partner, was being relocated to Hong Kong as a software engineer. Because the money was so big, Alex told Lasso to take it easy. “Only work if you find something you like and if you feel like working” he said. Two weeks from now, they’ll both be living, eating, and fucking in another country.
Lasso was suddenly brought back to the present moment by the rapidly increasing breath of the man lying on the bench. He was cumming. With force, the throbbing cock released and showered Lasso’s insides with hot jets of semen. A stranger’s semen.
Delightful!
He brought his weight back fully onto the man, allowing the cock to empty completely. The man’s cock, still fully erect, kept a perfect seal. A large pool of hot jism waited at that seal.
Lasso, proud of his cunt, decided he would hold this man’s seed hostage – hold it in for however long he desired. Ha!
As he was thinking this, the stranger’s still-pulsing erection exploded into a long, violent piss.
Lasso scolded himself, “Hold!”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/n75fcx/daytime_delight_lassom50_strangerm23