An unexpected raw fuck with me on the bottom

Thursday night I was bored. I am tired of online shenanigans. I have been going to the gym faithfully and watching my diet so I look good. I wanted to go out and see what was out there that I could see and sense in the flesh. It was three in the morning and I decided I'd go to Club 82 at E. 4th and Second Avenue. Usually I go there after the bars have closed, but tonight I was sober and freshly showered. Albeit a little stoned.

I hopped on the f train (it came right away, a good sign) and arrived at Club 82 at 3:33. I ran down those green stairs and shoved my money under the glass shield. "We are closing at four," said the guy. I looked at the sign. Apparently, the place only stays open on four am on weekday and five am on weekends now. The fuck? Back when I partied in the East Village, no one went to these places until the bars closed at 4:00 and then they stayed open until the sun came up. Whatever. I go in anyway. I've come too far to turn back now.

As soon as I walk in I see the guy. He's in shadow, lurking in a booth. As I pass by, he whips out his cock. It's a big cock. He nods a bunch of times and I'm in the booth with him. I look at his face. He's got that slightly sickly look like he's been poz for a while. And he's wearing a watchcap. My kinda guy. Even though I love his cock, he kneels down to suck mine. He does a really good job. He has poppers and I use them and it makes me want to suck his cock, so I do. It's a really tasty cock. Very thick. Then he's sucking my cock again. "Looks like you've got a huge load in there," he says caressing my balls. I agree with him. "You're clean, right?" he says. Uh, okay. Great time to ask a question like that. I lie and say I am but make a mental note not to come in his mouth. And then it hits me. This guy isn't poz. He's old. He's in great shape though.

So the next thing surprises me. But then again, nothing surprises me as far as anonymous sexual behavior goes. I'm back sucking his cock again -- this time on my knees at his request -- and he asks me if I want to get fucked. Oh yeah. So he takes out a tube of lube and starts to lube up his BARE COCK. Yes! After a couple of false starts, it goes in and it feels great. I get comfy and he starts to really pump his cock in and out of me. "Just don't come inside me!" I say. Why the hell did I say that? Oh yeah, I'm playing the role of an HIV negative person in this scene.

Or is he playing the role of an HIV negative person in this scene? If so, that "you're clean, right?" was a brilliant touch. Almost as brilliant as "just don't come inside me!"

He doesn't come inside me. He doesn't come at all. He says that he already came earlier that night. But I come and it's a huge load. I've been anorgasmic lately but getting my prostate rammed tonight has opened the flood gates and I spray the booth.

Then there's that post sex moment where the orgasm is in the past, the poppers have left your system and you're just standing there in the booth with your pants around your ankles and all this goo all over you. My booth partner, who I was just calling "daddy" is handing me a paper towel. "There's a bathroom down the hall and to the right," he tells me. Oh, how cute, he thinks I've never been here before! I thank him and head for the bathroom. He's following me. Oh dear. I just want to go home and go to bed and he's in love. He insists on kissing me goodnight. I say goodnight, wash my hands and head for the subway. When I get home and change into my pajamas, I realize that I was, um, dirty. Oops. Either he didn't notice or he really liked me. Nevertheless, it was a great night. Thanks to my unlimited metrocard, the entire endeavor cost a total of ten dollars and only took a total of an hour and forty minutes. Not a bad evening.