“The Mystery Man to the Left” by Tex Halstead aka Tex, the Muscle Jock
It neared 11p.m. and I anxiously awaited the reply I had hoped for.
“Already getting late,” I thought. “And I don’t even know if we have one of these places in this town…”
My phone rang. It was my buddy Jack. “There’s this place off the highway, it’s about a 45 minute drive, though. You sure you want to do this?”
“Hell yes.”
‘This place’ was an old Adult Bookstore and Video Arcade, including the illustrious ‘backroom’ equipped with glory-holed stalls. Precisely what I had been searching for. A vestige of a past long gone, or so I thought. A place where guys could convene late at night (or early in the morning, depending on how you look at it) and engage in no-strings-attached, relentless, anonymous cock-sucking, hand-jobs, and maybe even the occasional pounding.
I had long been fascinated by the idea of finding a public space designed for anonymous sex. These clandestine, underground meeting places belonged in the 1960s and 70s, or so I thought. I had missed my chance; I was born twenty or thirty years too late.
I’m glad one of my best friends is gay, and an exhibitionist at that.
Jack and I had known each other for over eight years. We met on our first day of college, and quickly became close friends. We had a mutual understanding: we were guys, and we liked to hang out and do ‘guy things’ together. Jack was a wellspring of knowledge when it came to the world of anonymous sex. He worked apps such as Grindr and Adam4Adam with a finesse that rivaled an escorting service. My hyper-sexed friend always kept a little notebook full of phone numbers, each a different guy – “Probably five or six options for every night of the week!” I’d imagine. His Facebook messenger had a partitioned group simply entitled “Guys”. When I went to Jack’s place, the “Guys” menu incessantly lit up with messages:
“Hey, can I cum over 2nite?”
“Wanna hang?”
“Last night was freakin’ amazing!”
I conjured in my mind this image of all these hot guys trapped in a web. Jack’s web. And Jack could pick and choose whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted. To say I was intrigued was an understatement.
It came with the territory that Jack was the go-to guy for all things gay sex. He knew the best hook-up spots, gay bars, clubs, parks…his sexual prowess was brilliant…and a curious guy like me? I was always along for the ride. But this time, it was my idea.
I had read about these places, the infamous ‘ABS’ (Adult Bookstore); they had dimly lit rooms in the back, shadows cast upon dozens of unknown faces with glistening cocks standing erect beneath them. Guys just waiting for one another to saunter off to a stall together, pop some tokens into the video-player, and hope that their grunts and moans would be masked by those of the porn that would play for five minutes, ten minutes, twenty per token. “Surely a place like this has to exist?” I wondered, “and I’d bet if anyone knows about one, it’s Jack.”
Jack rolled up in front of my house at 11:30. When I got in the car, he was already steadily pumping his fat, cut cock. We were guys, and we did ‘guy things’ together, remember? I reached out and gripped his thick dick and relieved his right hand, which he promptly buried beneath my jeans to find that I was just as excited as he. We edged each other along the dark highway for forty minutes, pausing interstitially whenever the other’s cock started pulsating and throbbing in anticipation of the sweet release that we were both driving toward. We needed to save our loads…
Jack’s car began to slow as a flickering, incandescent light bloomed on the horizon of the seemingly endless highway ahead of us. ‘Adult Videos’…”Wow. Creative name,” I joked.
The building was clad in white bricks, bore no windows or signs save for the neon ‘XXX’ and the source of the flickering light I had spied just a few moments prior looming over an assortment of pick-up trucks, rigs, and freighters in an otherwise lonely parking lot. There was a single, unassuming white door, the sole portal into this anachronistic world I had long searched for. The entire place seemed abandoned inside, derelict and empty. Blank video cassettes and DVDs lined the walls, their contents only betrayed by the hand-written signs above them: ‘Fetish’, ‘Teen’, ‘Anal’ and other such indiscreet labels. Jack confidently walked straight toward the back of the store, albeit with an uneasy gait, as his hard cock begged to be released from his jeans. I followed in a similar fashion, worrying that I was going to spill my load in anticipation.
A gruff, bearded man sat behind the counter, disinterested.
“How many tokens y’all need?”
“How many ya got?” Jack replied, eliciting a light chuckle from the otherwise stoic clerk. We slipped the man a ten dollar bill each, and received in return a small handful of what looked like re-purposed poker chips. “Y’all boys play nice now,” the man hollered, as we quickly made our way toward the tattered, black curtain behind him.
When I set foot beyond the black curtain, I heard the collage of moans and grunts of perhaps fifteen different porno films, guarded secrets behind dark stall doors. A passive red light just barely illuminated the floor and I gazed with wonder as I saw two truckers walk past me with their jeans still unzipped and ajar. I had read countless stories about these places — I knew what to do. Jack flashed me a quick grin as he walked into a vacant stall and quietly closed the door behind him. I walked farther down, two stalls to the right of Jack’s and took one last gander at the dark vestibule as I closed mine.
I inserted a token into the video machine opposite the closed stall door and a video of two muscled Latino men oiling each other’s pecs began to play. I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans and let my thick meat fall into my palm. On either side of me was a hole, about three inches in diameter. I leaned up against the hole to my left and began to pump my taut foreskin and my cock swelled with heat. I let my hairy sack dangle below, heavy with a well-marinated load from the long drive Jack and I had endured together. Only a few minutes had passed when I heard the door to my left slam shut, accompanied by a hurried pant.
“This is it!” my mind yelled, “I’m going to shove my cock through that hole and fuck this guy’s throat!”
I dangled my vascular dick in front of the hole, bait just waiting to be snagged. Then, the unexpected happened.
Instead of a pair of wet lips, complete with the velvet throat I had anticipated, the man in the left stall pressed his ass against our shared wall. He aligned himself a few inches to the right, then up, and I saw a tight, furry balloon-knot, glimmering with lube.
“Well hell, this is even better than I thought…”
My dick throbbed and spilled a small amount of slippery pre-cum across my fingers as I greeted the very first time I would pump my seed into another man. Fortunately, Jack was always prepared, and had insisted I bring with me a condom, although I protested thinking I was going to get my dick nursed by a slippery mouth, massaged by a drool-lathered tongue. It was during this moment that I thought to myself Jack must have engineered this. He had mentioned wanting me to fuck him someday in passing before… “This must be it! He switched stalls, that crafty fucker!”
I unpeeled the condom over my cock and settled the tip of my swollen mushroom beyond the gloryhole, resting it on the mysterious ass in the stall to the left. The mystery man pressed his ass up against the wall and slid down until my cock-head slithered into his rectum. I slowly moved forward, opening his hole as its lips embraced my pulsating dick — his hole contracted and promptly pulled my cock inward, catching me off guard as my cock glided into the tightest, warmest thing I had ever felt.
I began slowly, retracting my cock until my mushroom head was locked into place just beyond his gaping ass, and pressed forward with a controlled, increasingly powerful motion. I heard muffled moans intermingled with the porn, now broadcasting the two Latino men taking turns sucking each other off. Beads of sweat were born on my forehead as my entire body flushed with a pulsing heat. I had to stabilize myself, gripping onto a metal bar beneath the television box with my right hand, my other pressed up against the wall. I flexed my glutes, pushing my pelvis forward and let the mystery man (could it really be Jack?) fuck himself on my stiff rod. He slid his stretched hole over my thick cock faster, shaking the wall while my meaty balls softly slapped the bottom of the gloryhole.
I couldn’t believe it. Not only had I found what I was looking for – a genuine, old-school public gloryhole – but I was pounding a man for the very first time, trying my damned best to prolong the inevitable. I was going to bust, and soon.
The curious thing was, I heard few overt grunts and moans — just quiet, muffled sounds, as though the man was trying to quiet himself in a place where nobody cared. He quickened the pace, and I braced myself: I was going to inseminate this guy, totally breed his ass with the huge sack-load of seed I had been carrying with me for almost three days. His movements became more erratic and I began to feel his hole pucker and contract as his ass quaked and shivered against the wall. I grunted and pounded the wall with my fist as I felt the first stream of hot cum being ejected from my foreskin-clad dick.
I didn’t need a mirror to know my face was beet red, my muscles tightened and engorged, all veins on my body pumping blo0d to my cock, which was erupting with thick seed wave after wave. Despite wearing a condom, the rib around my shaft filled and began to spill warm cum onto my nuts, which reared upward with each cum-to-hole injection. I was in awe: as the mystery man slid forward, releasing my swollen dick, my heart pounded, shaking my pecs.
I had just fucked and bred this mystery man. And it felt freakin’ awesome.
I leaned against the back wall and gathered my bearings. “I need to remove myself from this daze,” I urged myself. “I’ve gotta see who this guy is.” I still didn’t know if it was Jack; I had never seen his ass up-close, and had no way to know given the three inch diameter ass-portrait the gloryhole provided. I wiped my forehead and cautiously opened the door. As I re-submerged myself into the dim, red light, I heard a loud grunt two stalls to my left; the door rattled a bit and opened.
Jack emerged, his hands fumbling to shove his fat dick back into his pants.
“Motherfucker…” It all made sense now. Jack wasn’t the mystery man — he was the reason the mystery man’s moans were muffled. As I pounded the guy from behind, my buddy had been using his throat. We inadvertently double-teamed the poor guy, who was probably curled onto the floor of his stall, in a pool of sweat and cum, with a big grin on his face.
I looked at Jack and smiled, “You’re a good friend, bud.”
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/8o879n/the_mystery_man_to_the_left_mmm_anal