Bored...that's the only word that could sum-up the reason I was in the car and driving toward an adult bookstore a few exits down on the freeway. I'm forty-six, in good shape through years of exercise, and married to a smoking-hot wife. But Kim wasn't feeling very sexy lately, and I was getting horned as hell. Sure...Kim would have gladly "taken care of me" in other ways; she gives a great blowjob and would lovingly do nearly anything I asked of her. I guess I was just in the mood for something a little more unusual. I'm not gay, and rarely have any fantasies of being with other men, but once every few years or so, the curiosity comes back to haunt me. I experimented with jerking-off and sucking cock in college. It was ok, and a good way to get-off in a pinch, but not something I wanted with any regularity. Today, I just wanted to feel a hot mouth around my cock that did things only another man could understand, or know how to do. Receiving service from another guy doesn't bother me at all. Reciprocating isn't high on my list, but I'll sometimes jerk a guy off when the mood hits me. I have to be really horned, drunk, or both to swallow a cock.
By now, it was 11:00 pm, and Kim was in bed asleep as I pulled into the parking lot that glowed red from the garish neon sign on the front of the building. The usual assortment of new cars, old beaters, and semi trailers were scattered across the darker spots in the lot. I guess most guys don't want to advertise their whereabouts by parking out front. After taking a few deep breaths to calm my nerves, I got out of my car and walked toward the entrance. I was nearly at the door when a flash of panic hit me and my pulse began to race. Parked at the other side of the building, closer to the attached titty-bar, was a familiar vehicle. The features were so distinctive that it couldn't belong to anyone else. It was my son-in-law's car.
Sean is a great guy, and he loves my daughter very much. With Emily being four months pregnant, I knew she had turned into an unpredictable mess of hormones and emotions. I wasn't angry or upset to find he was here. No doubt, he was taking some time to do exactly the same thing I was...finding a quick way to let-off some steam. My mind was telling me to get the hell out of there. Neither of us would be very comfortable running into the other. Looking back toward my car, it occurred to me that Sean wasn't likely to notice it, and he was apparently in the bar. Against what should have been better judgment, I nervously stepped into the bookstore and took a quick look around...Sean was nowhere in sight. The horned-up part of me rationalized that we were both here for the same reasons. Why should the other care if we spot one another? Even though I knew it was a bad idea, I wandered toward the magazines, keeping an eye out for Sean. After about ten minutes, my irrational mind was satisfied that he must be in the bar, and I walked toward the viewing booths.
The booths were nothing fancy...mainly small compartments separated by half-inch plywood. The usual token-eating monitor was built into one wall, with a folding chair, box of tissues, and a waste basket to complete the accommodations. Most of the booths were very private, but a few had hastily bored holes in the walls between compartments. The owners gave a half-hearted effort to "fix" the holes, but the patches were easily removed. I found a booth that had the laughable patch still in-place with one screw...that way I could close it if some beer-bellied loser expected me suck him off. I was there to get-off, and really didn't care what the other guy looked like...I just wanted to be able to show that I was there for a one-way exchange. I flipped through the five or six different videos that were playing, settling on one that featured the woman getting tagged by two guys. A few minutes later, an average guy wearing khakis sat down in the booth next to me. I watched him jack through the opening as I fisted my own tool, but he never made any gesture suggesting he wanted to do more than watch. He came fairly quickly, cleaned-up, and left. It wasn't long before what seemed to be an older, and fatter, trucker took his place. The tattoos on his knuckles instantly turned me off, so I closed the opening before he could even get started. I guess he didn't like the message, and I heard him leave just seconds afterward. By now, I was beginning to question coming here, and figured it was best to find a good clip, jerk-off, and go home. I hadn't indulged in this kind of behavior in years, so it certainly wouldn't upset me to go without a hot mouth around my cock tonight. Besides, Kim would certainly oblige me in the morning.
The scene on the monitor was pretty hot, and my cock stood at its full seven inches while I stroked, tugging my jeans toward my knees. Maybe two minutes later, I heard someone enter the booth next to me. I still had the opening covered, and was content to finish myself off, but curiosity got the best of me and I decided to take a peek. The softball-sized hole allowed me to see the man's lap as he squeezed a prominent bulge through the fabric of his pants. The color of his shirt and pants seemed instantly familiar, but my stomach tied in knots when I noticed the ring he was wearing. Platinum, with a band of black carbon-fiber down the middle, it was not the kind of wedding-band you'd see everywhere. My daughter picked it out for her husband, knowing how much he enjoyed tinkering with cars and all things mechanical. I bent forward to see more of my neighbor, being careful not to show more of myself than I already had. I was hoping to dispel my suspicions, but there was no denying that the fit, athletic, twenty-seven year old was my son-in-law, even without seeing his face. I quickly sat upright, and broke into an immediate sweat, realizing I wad exposing myself to the guy I played tennis with, and the soon-to-be father of my grandchild.
Everything told me that I should have listened to myself earlier, and gotten the hell out of there. Even as my thoughts told me to flee, I found myself stuck to the chair, my hard-on as firm as ever. Illuminated only by flashes of light from the monitor, I watched my neighbor rub at his growing crotch, seemingly unaware or uncaring of being watched.
"Crap...fuck...shit..." the words kept repeating inside my head as I continued to stare. Part of me was repulsed, but another side intrigued, as I thought of seeing the cock that was fucking my daughter. Minutes seemed like hours as Sean chose his favorite video, then settled-back onto his chair. His fingers nervously fumbled with his belt, as though he was unsure of his next move. Curiosity had consumed me completely, and I slowly pulled at my cock while waiting to see if he would show more. Sean's torso shifted forward, and I knew he was taking a closer look at what I was doing on the other side of that thin plywood. My cock twitched and swelled even harder in response to this taboo act of voyeurism. Sean stood-up from the chair, and I thought he might leave, but I heard the clink of his belt-buckle and the sound of a zipper being lowered. He sat down again with his pants at his knees, and a huge erection jutting upward.
"Good god!" I thought to myself after seeing his impressive manhood. Sean's cock was at least eight inches long, and incredibly thick. Not as big around as a beer can, but not far from it. I was both sickened and titillated when I thought of my little girl subjecting herself to that massive member. "Stop thinking like that, you sick fuck!" I screamed with my inner voice. I'm not so uptight that I can't admit that another guy is good looking, and Sean certainly is, but it was rare for me to be so mesmerized by another dude's prick. I knew my fascination was driven by familiarity and curiosity, but I couldn't stop staring as he stroked his cock and juggled his balls.
I had reluctantly agreed to jacking and even sucking a cock during my experimental phase in college...mainly from a sense of obligation. This experience was different. I wanted to feel Sean's meat in my own hand...and more surprisingly, wanted to feel the heat of it on my tongue. My pulse was really racing now. Fooling around with guys was always about busting a nut and moving-on. Actually wanting and admiring another cock was starting to freak me out. Even as it happened, part of my mind couldn't believe it...I watched as my hand reached for the opening, and my finger traced along the bottom edge of the hole. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as the full realization of what I was doing hit me. "What are you going to do if he takes the invitation?" My inner voice asked of my conscience. "Are you really willing to do this with your daughter's husband?"
