I'd struck out again. It was Friday night and after happy hour with some friends from work, I'd gone to a local club in search of hooking up with a cutie. As had become my fate lately, I had no takers and was gonna be left to feed the hog alone again. I'm a decent looking guy, with a good job, and what I'd always considered to be an OK personality, but my luck with the ladies had been miserable for several months.
On my way home, I pulled into the local filling station, to get some gas and pick up a couple of girlie magazines for my late night stroke session. Fong's Filling Station was open 24 hours and the small convenience store had a serious selection of adult magazines to help fuel the imagination of a chronic masturbator like me. As usual, it was Mr. Fong himself behind the counter. I swear, I think the guy never sleeps cause I can't remember ever stopping in when he wasn't the one running the cash register.
The store was small, but next to the checkout counter was an even smaller area closed off by a curtain. Behind that curtain was my destiny for the night, a display full of porn magazines ranging from the mainstream (Playboy), to the vulgar (Club and Hustler), to the bizarre (Juggs and Backdoor Babes), to the alternative. While my car was filling up, I stepped behind the curtain to browse the selection.
I always felt a little self conscious browsing the dirty magazines with Mr. Fong sitting on his raised stool just a few feet away, but I'd had a couple of cocktails tonight and was in the mood for something different, so I thumbed through several before making my selection. It was nearly 2am and the place was completely empty, so I wasn't in any hurry to grab and dash before someone I knew recognized me as the creepy pervert that I really was.
I even picked up a couple of the gay mags, flipping through the pages, as always mesmerized by the hung cocks on the male models. I always considered myself 100% heterosexual, but something about seeing a guy's big dick always fascinated me. Even when watching straight porn I often found myself drawn as much to the male performers' anatomy as the sexy little sluts that were getting banged.
Having made my selection, I dropped the mags on the counter along with my credit card. "Evening. Pump 6 please."
"No luck tonight, ehh Mr.?" Fong chuckled. "You need bottle lotion, too?"
Everybody's a fucking comedian, I thought to myself. Fong was easily in his late 50s, skinny as a rail, maybe 5'5" tall with a greasy head of messy black hair and a case of decades old acne. As usual, he had on his dirty mechanics shirt with his name stenciled on the front pocket.
As he was ringing up my sale, he continued, "Maybe you playing wrong team? I see you looking at gay pictures. You have more luck if you go after dick, maybe?"
My first thought was to punch this old fart in the nose, but he had caught me red handed looking at the gay magazines. "Very funny, but I'm just on a cold streak."
"Sure, whatever you say. But you do have a nice big mouth, just the kind Fong like to fuck."
That hit me across the jaw like a big upper cut and I had no response. Was this dirty old guy making a move on me? I didn't have long to wait before finding out.
He pushed his stool back from the counter and stood up. Fong was wearing a pair of thin grey sweatpants that did next to nothing to hide the unmistakable outline of his semi-erect penis. To add to the visual, a huge wet spot was clearly visible several inches down his leg where his prick had been leaking. For such a small guy, his cock looked humongous.
I reached for my magazines and my credit card, intending to get the hell out there. But something kept my feet glued to the spot and my eyes fixated on his impressive bulge.
"Don't be shy boy," Fong continued. "I keep your secret. You just closet cocksucker. Nobody else here. I give you what you need."
I can't explain why I was still standing there and why I couldn't take my eyes off his big package. It was like I was in a trance.
"Come behind counter, boy. I feed you good."
My mind was saying run, but my feet wouldn't listen. I did as instructed and found myself standing directly in front of Mr. Fong.
"Fong insist his cocksuckers are naked," he commanded. "Undress now and get on knees."
Unbelievably, I did exactly that. I took off all my clothes and piled them in the corner, before falling to my knees, my face now only inches from his pulsating crotch. My mind raced as I realized I was completely nude in this man's store, submitting sexually in a way I had never imagined. My cock was harder than I could ever remember it.
"Kiss it," he directed.
Through his flimsy sweatpants, I kissed the bulbous outline of his knob, tasting the salty precum seeping through his pants. I heard myself let out a moan from deep in my gut.
"Yes, you make good cocksucker. You need it bad," he said. "Now pull down pants and free Fong's dong."
He giggled, obviously pleased with his dime store poetry. This guy was anything but a smooth operator, but his huge member was close to the sexiest thing I'd ever encountered.
As I pulled the elastic waist down, his still hardening tool popped free and whacked my chin. "Don't just stare, get to work," he demanded.
Tentatively, I licked his thick purple cockhead, still partially engulfed in his uncut helmet. His crotch had a musky smell, as if he hadn't showered in several days. While his tool wasn't massively long, probably close to 8", it was ridiculously thick and fleshy, contrasting greatly with his skinny body. As I swirled my tongue around my first cock and took the first couple of inches into my virgin mouth, stretching my jaw to it's limits, I was struck by how obscene his amazing cock looked sticking out from his frail body. This was the cock of a warrior attached to the body of a weakling.
"Ahhhhh," Fong groaned. "You big mouth perfect for Fong dick. You watch teeth," he demanded as he gave my face a hard slap.
While he had a dark patch of black hair above his tool, his balls and cock were completely smooth. His nuts were equally impressive and hung very low in his loose sack. He was the epitome of the expression "hung like a horse."
He roughly grabbed the back of my head and forced what I thought was an impossible number of inches into my mouth till his fat gland pushed against the back of my throat. I started to gag and reached up to push him away.
"No hand boy," he growled. "Put behind back, now."
As I did, Fong reached under the counter and pulled out a pair of regulation hand cuffs.
"Keep these in case of robbers," he laughed. "I shoot fuckers in gut with my 357 then cuff and watch as they squirm in pain. But work good for training cocksuckers too."
He locked my wrists behind my back, effectively putting me completely at his mercy. "Don't worry faggot boy, I train you to take cock like a pro."
As he again began his assault on my throat, I was thankful that his fat schlong had a slight downward curve. He was now rock hard, but rather than bending to one side or the other, his boner bent down slightly, which appeared to be the perfect shape for deeply penetrating a cocksucker's throat.
I fought to breath through my nose and resist my gag reflex as he inched his way down my throat. I had read somewhere that to deepthroat a cock, you had to act like you were literally swallowing it, so I swallowed hard and his rod was actually inhaled down my throat. I felt my neck bulge and my pharynx stretch to accept his girth. After several minutes of this constant onslaught, I felt his pubes tickling my nose and his hanging balls bang against my chin.
"You fucking pro now, boy," Fong announced. "You take all Fong have to offer."
