This one was something else.
The ad was titled: "Basically Str8 guy," and related how said basically str8 guy needed a blo, liked watching str8 porn and how he was stuck here for the day waiting for an evening train home. Sounds good to me! I responded, noting that I had errands to do but that if he could wait until early afternoon, I'd be glad to give him the blo and the porn he wanted. He got back to me very quickly "Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®" to take me up on the offer. He was wandering around, seeing the city, and said he'd just wander my way for my anticipated return from errands. Cool.
When I got back from running around, I flipped him an email, and he popped back almost immediately. He was two blocks away, and rarin' to go. Said he was named Lloyd, would be wearing jeans and work boots, and - best detail ever - he had a tattoo of a naked girl on his forearm. Damn! In case I doubted his str8 guy bona fides, this took care of it definitively.
I was out the door fast, and trotted off to see this tattoo. And there he was, exactly as advertised: 38, 5'11", 170, work boots and yes, the naked lady on the forearm. He looked a tad scruffy, and was carrying a tidy, well-stuffed knapsack. This was feeling slightly weird as we walked and he explained himself. He had come two days ago from a neighboring state in response to an online ad for a carpenter that promised two weeks' work, though at somewhat less than his usual wages. He had been glad to get work, as his carpentry skills weren't in hot demand with the housing busting full swing. But the employer had cut him off after two days, and paid him with a check Lloyd didn't think was good. He told the story without embellishment, and with surprisingly little rancor. It was just a bit of hard luck he'd overcome. In the meanwhile, he was waiting for the six o'clock train to get home.
His whole story had kind of a Great Depression feel about it. And he had a distinctly redneck feel about him. I had brief moments thinking I might be up against a scam. I was thinking of ways to bow out - a sudden faked phone call from someone stopping by, might do the trick, I was thinking. But as he talked some kind of basic decency shone through. I didn't feel manipulated, I didn't feel scammed. He wasn't asking me for anything, and didn't seem needy. This was just real life in a different social stratum walking beside me. He was OK, I concluded. And his jeans looked very nicely stuffed.
Nonetheless, I took the measure of taking him up the back way in building, via the freight elevator. Which to my chagrin was packed, and in which Lloyd was gregarious and outgoing with people who appeared to be arriving for a party on another floor.
Once upstairs, I popped in the porn, and he shucked his clothes completely and settled in on the sofa for a good long blo. "Or two," he noted. I was a little surprised to hear that, given he's a grown up, and given he'd said he requires a good long hard suck. Multi-cummers, in my experience, are also quick cummers. Maybe he was joking around. I got down to work. His cock was soft, but still a healthy size - a full 3-4" in its resting state. His body, a working man's body. No pumped up pecs or cut abdominals. But clearly in good shape from actual use. Lightly hairy. Sweaty, but clean. He smelled like a man, not like a bar of soap.
His cock responded quickly, and stiffened up to a true six and a half - bigger than average, but no monster. And stiff as a board. With me on the floor at his feet, he was big enough to really pound the back of my throat. And pound he did. With a rousing str8 porno on the DVD, he was happily thrusting away at my throat. And enjoying himself audibly, giving me commentary on the porno and my cocksucking. I remained clothed. He showed no interest in me physically, except for my mouth. I was there to be used, plain and simple and hard. And he lasted a long time, as promised. Twenty minutes or more. He gave me an excellent build-up to his orgasm, lots of warning, instructions to slow down and stretch it out for him, and a request to stay on him after he shot. "I like a cocksucker to keep it warm for me." Aye, aye, Sir!
And shoot he did. Big. Strong tasting. Copious quantities. As requested I stayed on him several minutes while he laid back and caught his breath. When I came up off him, he thanked me for my good cocksucking, and brought up again the second round. "Just give me five minutes here." So I plunked down next to him, and we chatted about one thing and another as the porno rolled on. And sure enough, 5 minutes later, there were signs of life in his crotch again. And down I went, marveling at how a grown-up, pushing 40, could get it up again so fast.
I went at it again for another good long suck. Not as long - he popped off a little faster this time. And way less juice.
Having cum twice, he got up and asked if I minded letting him have a shower. No problem. Out of the shower, he walked around naked quite happily. Teasing me? No, I think he was just comfortable in his skin. As he stared out the window at the high-rise view, his phone rang. After he rang off, he told me it was his best friend, Parks. Parks was supposed to be arranging his ticket home, and was having trouble getting it done. Damn Parks.
"Any chance you could let me have a sandwich?" It was then I put two and two together: Lloyd was out of cash. He'd come up here, been paid with a bad check, and had spent most or all of what was in his pocket in the meantime. He wasn't going to say it, but clearly he was in a jam. As I slapped together some provolone on multigrain for him, I quizzed him a little further, and learned that with some frequent rider points, his Amtrak ticket home was only 15 bucks. I pushed the sandwich into a bag for him, along with some chips and an apple. And I pulled $20 out of my wallet: "Here, this will get you home."
"Are you sure that's OK?" he asked with wide-eyed gratitude. That was a polite question, given he was standing in an apartment a quick glance at which would reveal that $20 was definitely not going to break me.
"Not a problem, Lloyd."
He accepted gratefully, and pressed on me an invitation to visit his house - which he specified was in a middle-class neighborhood; he clearly understood we were from very different places - should I ever get to his city. "I got huge collection of pornos, anything you could be into," he said, indicating toward a wall of bookshelves, "they'd fill up all those shelves!" It was a sincere invitation.
He'd dressed in fresh clothes he'd produced from his knapsack, and was looking good and feeling good as he headed out the door. He had just enough time to make it to the train, and the means to get his ticket. And a sandwich, and his balls were good and drained.
Thinking back, I realize that Lloyd was a very genuine person. He asked nothing of me, even though he was in a tough spot. And he inspired me to lend a helping hand. You can't beat that.
A couple hours later, he emailed from the train to say thanks again, and to urge me again to visit. It did my heart great good to hear he was on his way home.