Annie’s Cruise

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When I’d just turned 18, I sucked off a possibly unhinged man in the showers of a swimming pool.

To elaborate, it was the summer between the end of secondary school and the start of college, and finding myself with nothing to do one fine July day, I decided to go visit the old leisure centre I used to take swimming lessons at.

I arrived at about 14:45, three hours before they closed. To my chagrin, they’d renovated; new building front, new cafe, new changing rooms, the works. Well, they had new changing rooms, all shiny and sturdy, with lockers and cubicles, where all the families and oldies and enthusiasts got changed, then there were the old changing rooms on the other side of the pool.

The women’s was being used as a store room, but the men’s still seem to be in use, so for nostalgia’s sake, I went inside.

Nothing was amiss; the whole place was just as I remembered it. A main changing area, split into two rooms; one bigger, one smaller and dingier off to one side, both lined with benches and coat hooks in place of lockers, and an adjoining shower room. Perfect, I got changed in the dingy side room, like I used to all those years ago.

I’m boring you aren’t I? Right, skipping to the bit with naked dudes.

I’d finished my uneventful swim, stood in the corner of the darkened side room, my trunks on the bench, stark bollock naked as I towelled myself off.

I heard the door swing open, two sets of steady footsteps beating the floor with heavy shoes, curious, I went to check it out.

Two men, both quite burly, and drenched with sweat, one of which is the hero of our story. This guy must have been about 30-35, Caucasian, with thin red hair and a heavy tan, pinkish from sun burn in places. He was quite tall though, and broad, even with his shirt on I couldn’t help but notice his musculature moulding the fabric on top of it.

“This the place?” He asked, his friend nodded. With that, they tossed their gym bags absentmindedly to the floor and instantly began to undress.

Their boots and socks came off first. Disinterested, I began to turn away, after all; it was just two guys fresh from the gym, right? But then the shirts and trousers came off.

I’d seen buff fella’s torsos before, art, action movies and such, but never in real time. The muscle ridges and the way they shadowed and caught the light, the hair, the sweat and how it softy glistened like wet stone. I didn’t question it, but I kept peeking round the corner, I was transfixed by these men.

Then their pants dropped, and so did my jaw.

Don’t get me wrong, the friend’s was about average, good, fine, lovely even. But this stranger, he was blessed.

The elastic waistband on this guy’s boxer shorts tugged softly at his manhood, making it curl inwards in a manner resembling the handle of a teacup. Eventually though, it snapped free, flopping defiantly for all the see. The other guy’s was a penis, this was a cock; uncut, around four-and-a-half inches at flaccid, ever so slightly girthier in the middle, one prominent vein snaking across it, crested with short, bushy auburn pubes and draped over a tight, clean shaved pink sack that only added to its splendour. I’ve since seen, handled, tasted, and taken bigger and better, but I was young, and virginal, and this one blew my mind. To this day I’ve never seen a finer knob on an English bloke.

As you could probably imagine, my eyes were glued to this thing as it jiggled about with his every gesticulation as they conversed. I recall wondering; “Am I gay?”, but I quickly forced that thought from my mind, replacing it with the tantalising mental image of these two gym-birds making out, then 69-ing, then noticing me, chasing me, catching me in their powerful arms, kneading my body with their tongues and fingers and subjecting me to a hard, sloppy spit-roast as penance for my spying. “Yeah, I guess I am”.

Turns out I didn’t have to wonder what’d happen if they noticed me, since they already had.

I audibly gasped, standing there like a deer caught in headlights as I tried to gauge their reaction to seeing me. But I couldn’t. The handsome stranger piped up.

“What do you think?”

His friend sized me up with a critical eye, don’t ask me why, but I felt as self-conscious as I imagine a schoolgirl would meeting a rock star. He subconsciously gave his dick and scrote a soft stroke with his thumb as he did so, which should have been my first warning.

“Nah.” He said, shaking his head and turning to his clothes. “Too scrawny.”

The stranger cocked his head “You sure?”

“Yeah,” his friend’s magnificent arse disappeared as he pulled his briefs up. “The mister’ll be suspicious by now anyhow.” His shirt slid down over his top half, and he was just a man again.

The stranger shrugged and said “Your loss.” He advanced upon me, I retreated further into the dingy room, backing away until I tripped slightly over the bench, falling just shy of bashing my head against the coat hooks. Now I’d fucked it; this guy was gonna’ give it to me (he sort of did, in a way, but I digress).

I heard his friend leave with bahis firmaları a jovial “Later mate, go easy on him, he might split”, and the sound of the door locking. His pace slowed as he entered the room. As if intentionally, he turned the light off and was bathed in shadow and shards of sunlight through the old windows. This only added to absolutely everything; now he appeared more primal, more dynamic, sexy as all hell, but also way more scary.

Not that I was paying much attention, he was walking; that monster cock was swinging back and forth like a pendulum, I could almost hear it slapping against the sack.

“Stand up, please kid.” I complied, now we were man-to-man. “Do you know what this place is?” he asked innocently.

I shrugged “A changing room?”

He shook his pretty head “Used to be, now it’s been replaced, but the owner keeps it open for cruising”.

“What?” I asked, knowing full well what was meant, but needing clarification regardless.

“Cruising; men meet here to service each other, you sure you’re not here for that?”

“Yes!” I tried my very best to sound offended.

This handsome stranger, he looked down at my crotch: “You sure?”. He smirked, drawing attention to my full scale hard on. He licked his finger and ran it down my shaft, flicking it at the tip so you could almost hear the ‘twang’. I twitched, coughing a little. “It looks like you are, at any rate.”

I spoke up; “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, it’s just…” I gulped, surprising myself with my words “… you’re really hot, and… I like… your… body.” (I know, believe me, it was more awkward saying it).

He laughed (as you would), and gave it to me straight. “Want to service me?”

“Yes.” I said without thinking.

“Cool, wait here.” He about-turned, leaving me in the dark with a stiff little prick and an overbearing mix of dread and anticipation.

He returned with his gym bag, setting it down on the bench nearby and removing a handful of items from it.

Caressing my cheek- which melted me like butter, by the way- he asked me what my name was, I told him, he shook his head.

“Not for the next hour or so.” He stated casually, gesturing to the word ‘Annie’ tattooed on his upper arm. “It’s Annie ’til we’re done.”

I nodded, this guy was weird; I should back out.

“If you ask me to stop, I’ll stop, but if you don’t, you’ll do everything I tell you. You are Annie, I am ‘sweetie’, alright Annie?”

“Alright sweetie.” This wasn’t backing out, what the fuck was I doing?

“Good, hold still.” I held still as he tarted me up, just over a minute later, I was stood there, looking ridiculous (probably the goal, now that I think about it) with my longish damp hair held back by a rubber band, a chafing, skin-tight ladies’ one piece swimsuit hugging my form, and a suspiciously expensive looking engagement ring on my finger.

He stepped back, admiring his own work, and I gave him a twirl.

“Beautiful Annie, come here.” I stepped closer and he pulled me into an embrace. My breathing became erratic, his flesh was warm and stiff as it stuck to my body with sweat and chlorine. Our noses touched, as did our pert nipples, and more importantly, our cocks.

I could feel the pillowy, sensual mass between his legs get a little bigger and more rigid. But it stopped at that. Only a semi? Shit, was I doing something wrong?

He broke my suspense with a kiss. Relieved, I closed my eyes and welcomed his tongue as it fenced and danced with mine. Our mouths disconnected and he flew into action, kissing my face, neck and shoulders, licking and sucking my nipples through the swimsuit, rubbing my back, massaging and squeezing my buttocks. I moaned quietly in pleasure, letting him go to town on me.

He set me down after that, but I was itching for more; all giddy and giggling as I nuzzled his pecs and abs, whispering “Please sweetie, please.” Demeaning, but I didn’t care, I wanted his dick and I was willing to stay in character to get it.

“Hang on Annie.” He kissed me again, this time ending with a tongue flourish that dropped a speck of slobber onto my front, parting like the red sea when it rolled over my concealed stiffy. “Remember that hand job you keep promising me?”

“Of course, sweetie.” What did I care? I’d get to give the aforementioned handy after all.

He said nothing, just smiled, guiding my hands to his beautiful semi. I was new to this, but I had to improvise, the last thing I wanted was to let this impromptu fiancé of mine down. So I wrapped my left hand around his sizeable Celtic junk and started slowly pumping, all the while gently cupping his balls with my right and hoping for the best.

He soon spat on it to get it going, and in short order, it grew, grew, grew between my fingers, the vein throbbing rhythmically as it turn stiffed. Yes, I was doing it right!

Following the lead of the esteemed ladies in the porno’s I’d seen, I gradually stated picking up pace, adding my spittle to his own every 20 or so seconds, remembering to spread it the nads for ease of fiddling.

My stranger seemed to enjoy it, kaçak iddaa my eyes were closed as I went with the flow, but I felt his lips and heavy breath about my face, and I heard the faint begging of “Annie… Annie…” with every nip at my ears.

Speaking of nips, about four or so minutes into my task, when I was up to a rapid three pumps a second, he tore open the front of my swimsuit and started licking and sucking mine like they were the biggest, floppiest, juiciest tits around.

He moaned, and I followed suit at a higher, intentionally feminine register. He buried his face into my chest and began to tremble. This was it! I went full pelt and machine-gunned that motherfucker with both hands, taking a knee and waiting with my mouth open in anticipation for his glorious load.

But then he jerked backwards, his slick member slipping out of my grip.

“Wait Annie…” He said, gasping, almost pleading. “Not yet, I need you to help me, right?”

I knelt there, my soggy, stiff plaything level with my face, and grumbled. As the cock wobbled before me and righted itself, I couldn’t help but be disappointed. This lovely thick meat course, this tower of flesh, this cum-fag’s Excalibur, only stood proud at just over eight inches!

Still huge, big enough for anyone, really, but still!

I pouted, tutting like the disapproving girlfriend I assumed he wanted me to stand in for. “Right sweetie.”

Panting and sweating even more, my stranger parked his tush on the bench, adopting a lounging position like a weary barbarian king. “Go to my bag.” He nodded to it.

I staggered to my feet, my wrists severely hampered with wanker’s cramp, and walked over to his gym bag, shaking my arse with each step in an attempt to entice him into butt fucking my ring three sizes bigger.

“Fetch me the water bottle Annie.” He asked, all husband-ly, “And that menthol rub, my knee’s acting up.”

“Anything for you, sweetie.” I fished them out of the bag, returned to him, repeating my little ‘fuck me’ butt swagger, and gave him the bottle. He outstretched his hand, expecting me to pass the rub to him and for him to command me to apply it. I decided to cut out the middle man.

I wiped our saliva off my hands and sat cross legged in front of him, twisting the cap off the tube. “Sorry sweetie, I forgot, which knee again?” He grinned approvingly and gestured to his left one, I set to work easing his ache. My cream saturated palms glided over his thigh and down to his knee though my attention was preoccupied with the tantalising unfinished business of his member. My eyes darted between his vastus muscle and his reproductive muscle.

He groaned, a small weight being lifted off his shoulders. As I finished, he wordlessly shifted to a more hunched posture, leaned back, and stuck both his feet in my face, twiddling my lips with his toes.

I guessed he wanted me to tongue his feet, I guessed correctly.

The cheesy digits twitched and recoiled under my licks, and he started running his feet back and forth between toes, tops, and soles until I’d tasted every inch. This wasn’t what I’d intended, but it didn’t matter, his genitals were well within my sight, and as long as my stranger was still stiff as a flagpole, so was I. He looked down at his loyal pet with a pleased expression and took a swig of his water.

“Annie.” He pulled his feet away. “You love me don’t you?”

“Of course, sweetie.”

“So show me.” He sat up, shifting the lower half of his torso closer to me. He wanted me to suck him off!

“Sure sweetie, anything.”

He tucked the tips of his saliva coated feet under the bottom of his coat hooks, exposing his tight, virginal rectum to me.

“Eat my arsehole.”

I choked.

What was he thinking, was he fucking with me? This was my first time with a man, and he was already proposing arse-to-mouth?

I hesitated, but apprehensively approached anyway, steeling myself. The flavour of his sphincter hit me like a freight train. He’d very recently had some kind of enema; mint, just like toothpaste.

I moaned honestly, my mouth lovingly probing his gooch and his ring, before I moved on to a prolonged period of French-kissing the inside of his prostate.

There was no going back now. Whatever chance I had to back out had evaporated. I was eating his arse, and liking it.

Okay, I need to get my bearings before I get kidnapped and chained upside down to be used as a toilet.

“Who’s Annie sweetie?” I inquired, planting my mouth straight back into his rear with a squelch. Surely this chick was real, a co-worker he couldn’t get, an ex he couldn’t get over, something to humanise this hunky, sociopathic cock on legs.

“You’re Annie, Annie.” Came the callous reply.

“Thanks for clearing that up, sweetie.” So he was kookier than cocoa butter, and I was already licking his bum; wonderful.

With my nostrils pressed against his spit and sweat sodden balls, I stared up at his cock as it defiantly pointed to the ceiling, playfully aiming here and there as it jolted and shifted with his pleasure throes. It was taunting me.

I kaçak bahis pulled my tongue away, leaving a trail of minty spittle between it and his hole. “Sweetie.” I cooed at him, fluttering the eyelashes that -for this instance only- I wished were longer.

“Yes Annie, what is it?”

“I want to suck your dick, may I?”

“Not yet.”

“But sweetie, I want it now. Please please please please please.” I whined, without having to act the slut this time.

He smirked, sitting upright and pulling his arsehole away from my face. “Are you whining at me, Annie?”


I didn’t have time to answer him, he’d already pulled me up, bent me over his knee, and rubbing my arse. He yanked my head back and silenced me with a kiss.

“You’re a naughty girl, Annie. Naughty girls get spanked, and put to bed.”

And so he just straight up spanked me ten times in the rear, I was taken aback; this was quite painful.

“Who owns this tight little cunt, Annie?” He queried quite suddenly before the tenth slap made contact.

I winced. “You do, sweetie.” I said quietly.

This obviously wasn’t enough. He pulled my head back by the hair again and continued. Five more times, now with all his might he was pelting my arse with intent to cause pain, to discipline. I shrieked after every merciless strike, and after every impact he growled the question into my ear. “Who owns this tight little cunt, Annie?”

“You do sweetie, you do!” I cried out, my eyes welling up with tears.

He gently shushed me, rubbing the small of my back and running his fingers through my hair.

“There’s no need to cry, Annie.” He licked the salty tears from my face, pecking me on the forehead. “You’ve learned your lesson, and since you’ve been a good girl thus far, I’ll give you a nice treat.”

‘RRRRRRRP.’ He raised me up onto all fours and set about cleanly tearing away the section of my swimsuit around my arse. He’d just beaten me- his wife- for wanting to properly cruise with a cruiser in a cruising spot. Woe betide this poor Annie bird, should she really exist, for suffering this twat as a suitor.

Great cock though.

He had finished; with suspiciously practiced precision he had completely taken off both the back and front faces of my swimsuits’ bottom half, leaving about an inch in from the seams and a small patch covering the space in between to hold it all together as my sore bum and hard penis were exposed to the elements.

Lowering me onto his lap, stopping briefly to fire a salvo of spit onto his crotch, our cocks touched again. Both were now erect, and I felt the full length of his shaft couple with mine, laying pointing to his right, warm against the skin up my belly.

Again, he spat, this time between my reddened cheeks and let it dribble down over my hole, where it pooled. I closed my eyes, hearing him suck on his fingers before they slid slowly and deeply into me, two abreast.

I hummed in joy with each rhythmic push. “Do you like this Annie?” He asked, I nodded, letting out a positive “Mmmmmm” in response. He pushed past the knuckle for the first time, sending his fingers as far as they could go into my arse. I winced again, this pushed me, sliding my dick along his, lubricated with spit. I shuddered, he worked the fingers on his other hand into my mouth and down my throat, my gag reflex kicked in, but when he pulled them out, I had slid a few inches back past my original position. Then it was the arse fingers’ turn again.

He had possibly invented a fingering/spit- roast/frotting combo. Ingenious. I retroactively dub it the ‘Summer Camp Special’.

We continued this slowly for about ten minutes, give or take. He pulled both sides out every three minutes or so to apply more spit lube and spank me again.

Not horrible hard spankings, mind you. Those nice little sudden, upward ones you see in porn to make the girl’s bubble butt jiggle (is that the term? Bubble butt? I’m British, so I’m not sure).

It probably would have lasted longer if I hadn’t splashed my pre-cum all over his junk. He stopped the moment a nice sample of my hot spunk caked everything down below.

Now I’d done it. I would have nutted so fast, ten minutes to pre-cum? So pathetic! I was worried he’d take his lovely cock and go home to jerk off in peace.

I checked his face for distaste or anger, but found only amused endearment.

“Aw, Annie, look at the mess you’ve made!”

“I’m sorry sweetie, I…”

He laughed. “Don’t apologise, lick it off.”

Fuck yeah!

In a flash, I was laid on the bench, face between his legs, shovelling a nutritious cocktail of two parts his saliva, one part my semen past my teeth with my tongue and fingers. I can’t remember what I’d eaten before, but mine was sweet and tangy. I finished, but he gently held my head down, so I continued to suck and polish his ball sack.

I locked eyes with him as he looked down at me. He was weird, he was creepy, but what I was doing right then and there, it felt right. His soft expression, his fingers massaging my scalp and ponytail, the midsection of his penis rubbing my forehead. I hated this dickhead, but I wanted to please him. I could’ve sold all I had and given him everything in exchange for kind words and regular dickings. I bet this is how cults start.

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