Ron’s Place
By
LaloGS
By
LaloGS
The military must have done me some good, but for the life of me I can’t fathom what it could be. I hated everybody and everything about the three years I was stuck there. Maybe it was a bad case of blue balls, since I’m gay, and had to keep my dick in my pants so to speak the entire time. What I didn’t need was a dishonorable discharge for being a faggot. I figured I’d bide my time, and get out, get a good job, and move form my hometown of Paducah, Kentucky, to someplace on the west coast where my queerness wouldn’t stand out so much, and generally people didn’t care one way or the other.
The Marines had pulled me up out of adolescence and bulked my body up to my present size. Six foot one, muscular and a thick crop of ruddy blond hair in various strategic places around my generally tanned and toned body. My tan set off my squared jaw and blue eyes and gave me a look of what one guy had suggested was impending violence. My guess is he was reacting to my gut anger that the Marines left me with when I mustered out.
I mustered out in San Diego, and with my severance pay and a bus ticket, I headed home to make my peace with my folks, and to say good bye to some friends. Since I lived in a closet Paducah, I didn’t expect any problems, but it wasn’t what I got. When the bus pulled into the Greyhound bus station on North 4th street, I was tired from the long uncomfortable trip, and headed for the nearest bar.
The place was semi-deserted at three in the afternoon, but there were a few regulars on stools at the bar, watching some crap show on the TV. I ordered a beer, and a shot, and headed into the dark, and found a booth. I downed the bourbon, and sat nursing the beer, thinking about what I’d say to my folks. I’d just signaled to the bartender for another of the same, when a guy I recognized from high school came in the door. What was his name? Ronnie. . . Ron. . . Don? Shit I couldn’t remember. He stood in the doorway letting his eyes adjust to the near midnight in the bar, and watched the bartender come around the end of the bar with my drinks. He followed the bartender’s progress with his eyes, and then I saw him recognize me. Fuck.
“Hey bro!” He headed for my booth, and I saw he was a pretty hefty guy my size and build, dark hair, and a rugged face with a broken nose. “They let you out?” He slid into the booth opposite me without being invited. He glanced at my order the tender was sitting on the table. “Hit me like that George,” he said, pulling out his smokes and laying them on the table. When George headed back to the bar, he shook a fag out and lit it with a beaten up old Zippo. He offered me the pack, but I shook my head. “Just get back in town?”
“Yeah. The bus.”
“I thought that was you. I seen you get off the bus. I followed you over here to see if I was right. Marines; huh?” I nodded, and swallowed my shot.
“What were you doing hanging out at the bus station?” I took a swallow of beer.
“Nothing much, I just like to watch the people coming and going.”
“No job?” I thought I could read him like a book.
“I work nights at the assembly plant,” he referred to the auto parts plant out by the river. A place I’d probably end up working at if I stayed.
“Yeah?” I was already bored. The bartender was back with his order.
“So what are your plans?”
“Nothing planned yet. Thinking about moving out west somewhere.”
“Seriously?” I nodded. “Man, I’ve always wanted to haul ass to San Francisco.” My ears tickled. I looked at him a little more closely.
“Man,” I swallowed beer. “That’s fag city.”
“Don’t bother me none.” I looked him, speculating.
“You like fags huh?” I tried to goad him a little.
“I don’t mind saying. . .” He downed his shot. “Ever get a blow job from one?” I shook my head. I was basically still a virgin except for a couple of jack off sessions with some guys in the barracks.
“You have?” He grinned at me, and picked up his beer. He stuck the long neck in his mouth and ran it in and out like he was sucking on it. “No shit?” He leaned across the table and glanced over his shoulder at the regulars and to see where George was.
“I been sucking cock since high school. You interested?” I looked at him, wondering how he managed to find partners in Paducah.
“You offering?”
“I’d consider it my pleasure.” He put a hand on my knee under the table, and I felt my dick start to get hard.
“You got a place?”
“I live a few blocks away. Want to see it?” I swallowed the rest of my beer, my dick already hard in my pants.
“I’d love to, but I’m so fucking horny, you made my dick hard. I can’t walk around like this.”
“OK. I’m going back to the bus station toilet. I’ll be in the last stall. Come into the one next to it, and I’ll take care of you.” He finished his beer, and got up to leave, paying George as he left.
I watched him go, and then got up paid, and holding my duffel bag in front of me, followed him. He was already in the stall when I pushed through the toilet door. A guy was standing at the urinals, but wasn’t pissing. He looked me up and down, before turning back to face the wall. I walked to the next to last stall, and pushed the door open and locked it. The stalls were the old fashioned kind, with the walls going down to the floor, and head high. At cock height there was a three inch hole worried through the brown marble slab. With a finger crooking through it.
I dropped my duffel on the floor, and undid my pants, dropped them to my knees, and pushed my briefs down letting my stiff cock flop out pointed at the hole. I heard Ron or Don, I still couldn’t remember, groan, and his tongue slipped through the hole. I pushed my dick head into the opening, and let him lick it for a while, before sticking it through into his hot sucking mouth. I was so horny to get off, I couldn’t hold back, and soon enough was pouring what felt like a half gallon of pent up cum into him. When we finished, he licked my softening cock clean, and I finally pulled what had been my eight inch bone back through and pulled up my pants. I turned and noticed an eye watching through the crack in the door. I buckled my belt, and picked up my duffel. The eye vanished, and I opened the door. The guy was back standing at the urinals, obviously jacking his dick, ignoring me and Ron. . . Don?, who was just coming out of the stall.
Ron. . . Don?, led the way, and I followed a minute later. Outside, he turned left, and I caught up to him, and came clean about not remembering his name. I asked Ron, if he had anything to drink at his place, and we stopped in a liquor store and bought a case of beer. His place turned out to be over a closed hardware store. Up stairs, he had it fixed up with a bed and a big screen TV and a stack of porn DVDs. He asked me if he could strip me because he like doing it for guys. I dropped my duffel, and he put a few beers in the fridge before leading me to the bed area. He loosened my tie, and pulled it over my head. He began with my top button, and as he worked his way down, he leaned in and used his tongue on my neck. It made me shiver, and my dick started to grow again. When he pulled my shirt off, he slipped his hands under my tee shirt and felt of my hairy chest, and then began tweaking my nipples. Since this was all new to me, it made me moan, and my dick got so hard, it felt like it might explode.
He pulled the tee off, and started licking and sucking my nipples. This action sent me into a frenzy. I finally pulled him off my tits, and looked him in the eyes. “You fuck man?” He grinned.
“I was hoping you wanted to fuck me.”
“well let’s get to it. I want to fuck your ass like there’s no tomorrow. He started pulling open his shirt, and soon enough we were both naked with hard cocks in each other’s hands. He led me to the bed, and pulled a rubber out of the nightstand. He tore it open, and worked it down my shaft. I was tingling all over, realizing I was about to fuck my first asshole, and have real sex with my first man. He slathered some greasy looking stuff on my latex dick, and then laid back on the bed and lifted his legs in the air, locking his arms behind his knees. His hole was winking at me, and I put the head of my dick at the opening, and just pushed it into him roughly. He let out a grunt, and put his hand on my stomach. I let him get used to me briefly, but I didn’t wait long before I started fucking him like I was beating a bad dog. He was groaning and moaning, the sounds making me hotter and hotter.
Since he’s sucked me off at the bus station, I didn’t need to cum so badly, and the fuck lasted several long minutes. What stopped it was him starting to cum while I fucked him. He moaned like he was wounded, and I felt his ass tighten down on my cock, and he started to squirt cum all over the place without touching himself. His loads were squirting on his chest, my chest, his face, my face, and when he started twisting around, all over the bed as well. When he clamped down on my cock, I started filling that rubber with more cum than I thought I had left.
When we finished, I laid down across his chest, my dick still buried in his hole, and licked the cum off his hair and nipples. He was breathing hard, and had me clasped to him with his strong arms. We laid there like that for several minutes until I went soft, and he pushed me out. I grabbed the base of the condom, and stripped it off. He asked for it, and I watched him turn it inside out, over his open mouth, dribbling my load down his throat.
After, over beers, he invited me to spend the night. I asked him about his job, but he pointed out it was Saturday. He broke me in sometime after midnight, and we slept until long after noon Sunday, and I cleaned up and went to see my folks. That night, I slept in my old bed at home, but I must have jerked off half a dozen times thinking about fucking around with Ron some more. Maybe Paducah, wouldn’t be so bad after all.
End
