In which our hero finds commerce.
It is a rainy Saturday afternoon and my wife and I are having lunch at a bistro restaurant. The weather means that the training ride has been canceled and so I have a leisure day. We have decided to lunch and then there are some shops nearby where my wife wants to browse and do some craft shopping. We are near the end of a delicious lunch when I look up past my wife and see a table on the far side of the room occupied by three men. They are talking together and one of them is gesturing in my direction. I try to ignore this and focus on the conversation with my wife. But there is something unnerving about the animation of the three men directed in my direction. And then it hits me with a shock of recognition. I realize with my stomach doing a lurch that I recognize the fellow who has been pointing at me. He is from the Mr. B party, the guy sitting directly in front of me, anxious to take Ted's place after the show ended. And it is clear that he has recognized me. Of course I don't know his name and he does not know mine, but that hardly matters under the circumstances.
I suggest to my wife that I will settle the bill and that she can go on ahead, that I will join her in the craft store shortly. I tell her that I need to use the rest room so I will be a few minutes. My wife agrees and rises to depart. We give each other a small kiss of fondness and she is out the door. I wave for the waitress to get the bill. As I am waiting, I see the fellow get up and approach my table. He sits down and greets me with, 'I have been waiting for months for my session with you'. I tell him that I don't know what he is talking about, but of course I do know. He goes on with, 'I see you have replaced your pimp with a better act, your wife I assume'. I ask him what he wants. He answers that he already made that clear, he wants his session with me. I ask him if he is suggesting that I drop my trousers and bend over the table. He laughs and responds that he had the men's room in mind. I tell him that he is mad and I start to get up to leave. He puts a restraining hand on mine and suggests that he could ask my wife about a better location, say our bed.
I sit back down and look at him. I ask again what he wants from me. A fuck he answers me, what he had coming at the party and what he was swindled out of by B and I. I tell him that if there was a misunderstanding that is between him and B, I got no money from him. He responds that he intends to settle the misunderstanding here and now. He tells me to get up and meet him in the men's room. I look across the room and see his two friends still at their table watching us. I ask about his friends. Associates the fellow tells me. They ensure that there are no misunderstandings. I tell him that the party was a performance where I got paid to perform. There was nothing personal in it. I tell him that he should talk to B if he wants to arrange something further but that this is hardly the time or place. The waitress returns and I sign the credit card statement. I get up to leave and he takes my arm. There is menace in his voice as he tells me that I will regret it if I make a scene here in public. We walk toward the men's room and I see his two associates get up and follow. We stop in the hallway and I tell him that I am not going to let him and his associates hurt me, that I am prepared to start screaming bloody murder, and that there will be police. Opening the men's room door he tells me in the same menacing voice that I am going to love it.
We are in the men's room, he and one of his associates whom he addresses as Bert. The other associate, Bill, is left outside the door to ensure that there are no interruptions. He is standing in front of me. He pulls money out of his pocket and slams it down on the sink counter. He looks at me and says,' here is your money ass fuck, take it and get down on your knees'. He tells me to make it good as the sooner I am done here, the sooner I can get back to wifey. What I want more than anything is to get out of here quickly without a scene and without being injured. It will not do any good at all to have a scene that I will have to explain. I sink to my knees in front of him. I look up at the sneer of triumphant on his face as he observes to his associate, 'you see Bert, I told you he would cooperate, a natural born cocksucker'. He looks down at me and tells me to get busy. I reach up and grab the bills, stuffing them into my pocket. I unfasten his belt buckle and pull down his zipper. I pull his clothing down to his knees. His cock is three quarters full.
I lean forward and take his cock in my mouth. I let it soak in my mouth for a few minutes. He comes to full hardness in my mouth, my tongue cradling his erection. From above I hear the menacing voice, 'so far so good ass fuck, now start sucking, like you did to your boyfriend, if you do a better job on me than you did on him, maybe I won't have to stuff it in your asshole to get off like he did'. I begin sliding my lips up and down on his shaft. He possesses an average organ in all respects; average length and girth and straight with a pointed cock head. His balls are hanging down between his legs and I reach out a hand to cup them. I roll his balls in my hand. I flick my tongue on the underside of his cock, teasing the skin of his organ. I press my lips on the shaft and slide up and down, pressing hard, sucking on his cock. I feel him throb in my mouth and begin to think that perhaps if he comes quickly, this will be over and I can escape. I reflect that this is my worst nightmare, to be recognized and exposed from an anonymous encounter.
