It's been years since I've been here. It's an adult book store adjacent to a strip club and for some reason, I always remembered it being a lot closer to the freeway. Figured it'd be a quick pit stop on my way back from work. I usually take the train into work but I was needed at one of our other offices and I'm simply just not used to driving in traffic anymore. I needed a break from the stop and go. I needed some relief. It wasn't even all that bad by LA standards, an average of 30 mph but I had another 40 miles to go and the monotony was getting to me. Then I came up to the exit for the bookstore and memories flooded back and FelchingPisser's recent tales at the bookstore near his hood came to mind and I decided to pull off and make the stop.
I've only been to this place half a dozen times. What struck me was how unapologetic it was about being a space for guys to get off. There were paper towel dispensers in each booth of the video arcade. All of them had glory holes, which looked less like vandalism but intentional features from the proprietor. Some booths had electronic windows that would go opaque or clear so that you can see the occupant next to you. It was practically a bathhouse maze.
But that was then. Now, the air was different. The configurations seemed different too. Less cruisy, more proper somehow. The etiquette seems to have changed and I'm adjusting to determine the rules of the subculture. I had spent five bucks at a booth without a door. Guys came by just to peer in and flee in horror when they saw me openly stroking my cock to the vids. Only one guy, a handsome, stocky but muscular Latino came into the booth to grope and stroke for all of two seconds before moving on. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to follow or not.
I fed a machine that was already running and saw a curious guy in the next booth through the glory hole. He peered through the hole to watch me stroke, obviously interested, so I pushed junior through just to get a rather awkward handjob. I pulled out to motion for him to push his through, but he whispered that he already came.
I was a bit baffled. It seemed like this was for strokers, but private stroke sessions through a glory hole.
I walked out of the booth trying to figure things out and literally bumped into someone I know. A platonic friend. Completely social. We brushed shoulders as I had walked out in a daze. We both smiled at each other for a moment before my smile faltered. I believe the thought process was:
"Oh fuck, it's Jim."
"What the fuck is he doing here?"
"Oh yeah, he lives in this neck of the woods..."
"He's actually looking pretty good in that work polo, with his company name embroidered over his left chest."
"Hm, I wonder what he looks like naked..."
That whirl of thoughts happened in all of a second before we heard a voice over the PA system, "You can't just stand around. Go to a booth and feed the machine."
I was startled. And kinda blushed since I know the attendant was talking about us.
I went into a booth and half-heartedly closed the door, leaving it unlocked. He saw what I did and followed behind me.
I smiled broadly and looked at him. He smiled back. But there was a blank quality behind it. I realized, through the darkness, he didn't recognize me yet.
The guy in the next booth was peering at us through the glory hole. So I whipped it out and started stroking. Jim took over for a second. Just long enough for me to fish out his cock and stroke his. He basically confirmed what i had found out. This was pretty much just a tug and go kinda place. Then, quite shakily, in a voice of pure need, he hoarsely whispered, "Could you sick it?" And then he added, "Please?" A voice of pure need and desire that was so out of character for him, a guy I've known to be so laid back and reserved.
I fell to my knees, angled him so we could put on a good show for the guy next door, and licked the length of his shaft. It quickly grew to an impressive size. A solid eight inches at least. Another quite astonishing fact as his personality lends itself to being very modest and slight.
He moaned a long sigh of as I worked him slowly to the back of my throat, undulating my tongue against the bottom as it slid down. Then I formed a nice seal and sucked him hard before releasing it and letting the drool form and pool to let the weight of his shaft slide back out of my mouth. I continued, varying the technique. Up and down. And he lost his inhibitions and started to face fuck me. A long and thick shaft crammed down my throat. Pulling all the tricks out of the book until he ripped my head off him.
I took that as a queue that he wanted to return the favor so I stood up but he simply stroked me.
I went back on my knees and inhaled him.
"Wait, wait, wait..." he whispers.
I let go for a second to ask why only to have him spurt in the air. What a waste. I took him back into my mouth to get the last drops before he got hypersensitive and tapped my shoulder.
And as I stood up, he could help but laugh. The sign of a happy customer.
As he started to pull up his pants and make himself presentable, he asks, "So where do you live?"
"Jim, it's me."
He laughs again, "I kinda thought so but I wasn't sure. It's kinda dark in here."
"No worries. And I got a haircut. And I'm never on this side of town."
"Yeah, that confused me!"
"It's all good. See ya Wednesday!" And I left the booth to head to my car.
I wasn't sure what was gonna happen later in the week when our friends were getting together for dinner. Things evolve. Just as the arcade became desexualized to a degree, my relationship with Jim was gonna change to one that muddled the lines of casual friendship and conversely become more sexual.
Interesting how things change.