The Guy in the Yellow Jock Strap

6 weeks without a job was taking its toll on my self-esteem. I was out of money, out of luck, and out of patience. I had to get this job.

I had scheduled an interview with a major national department store located in my local mall. It was a small town, and I had experience managing at a big store in Texarkana, so I figured I had a good shot at getting the job.

I got to the mall way too early, telling myself I just wanted to show up early so I wouldn't be late. The truth was, I was hoping I could score a nice piece of ass in one of the mall restrooms before the meeting. There is something about pumping a load of cum up some willing bottom's ass that really enhances one's self-confidence. I needed all the help I could get going into this interview.


First, I made a circuit of all the restrooms in the mall. None of the toilets was particularly cruisy. I live in a small town, and the cruising isn't anything like what you'd find in a bigger city. Still, I find enough action to keep me putting on my old, piss-stained, cum-encrusted jock strap and going out hunting for man-cunt.

It started out as pretty much a bust. Nothing but a bunch of elderly mall-walkers and mall employees spending too much time hating their jobs to take a few minutes to go fuck in the toilet. I did see one guy out cruising the toilets too, though, but I could tell he was a total top, out looking for the same thing I wanted: raw ass.

As I made my second stop in the Sears bathroom, I ran into this other guy on his way out. As we crossed paths, I noticed he had really intense body odor. He probably hadn't showered in a day or two. He was wearing a black tank top, so I could see the thick brown armpit hair poking out from his under arms. I had the strangest desire to stick my nose in those pits and just take a deep breath.

When I got in the bathroom and looked around, I could see why he had left. No action at all. Some old guy with a cane washing his hands. There were two urinals, so I unzipped at one of them just to make a good show of it. I figured I'd just hang out in this restroom for a little while to see who might come in.

I've found some men are still fuckable even if they didn't come to the mall looking to get fucked. My theory is that you can always find a horny man, you just have to be on the look out for him and then have the balls to go in and make your move.

The old man with a cane finished washing his hands and left. Just as I was thinking about zipping up and going somewhere else, the guy came back. He held strong eye contact with me as he walked up to the urinal next to mine and unzipped his pants. The first thing I noticed was that he was wearing a yellow jock strap. Hmmm . . . I wonder if he's trying to tell me something with that . . .

As soon as he pulled his dick out, and his massive bush of pubes became exposed to air, the odor coming off this guy became even more intense. It was strange, because the smell was one that would ordinarily make others uncomfortable. But in my twisted mind, when I smelled that blend of armpit funk, crotch sweat, cum, piss, and ass, I smelled only one thing: sex.

We stood there, visibly stroking our cocks, and not saying a word. He was taller than me. Probably 6 feet tall, maybe a little taller. His head had been shaved, but not in the last week or two. He had a few days growth of hair on his face, and it looked like a lot of hair on his chest judging from what was coming out the edges of his tank top. He was thin, but had a small beer gut. His cock was big, but not too big -- I'd guess 7 inches, thick and (gloriously) uncut.

I must have been leaning in too close to him to smell the funk coming from his armpits, because he suddenly grabbed me from the back of my neck and forced my face into his pits. It was both scary and delightful at the same time. I licked his hairy pits furiously, and inhaled deeply to take in the sweaty smell. The taste was tangy, salty, a little gross, but just irresistable.

We were briefly interrupted when another mall walker came in and sat in one of the stalls. This bathroom was a little too busy to be hooking up like this, but it kind of added to the excitement. We just stood at the urinals like little soldiers and waited for the old guy to leave. He was barely out the door when the guy in the yellow jock strap grabbed by hair, stuck is thumb in my mouth to force it open, and spit twice -- the first one hit my left eye, but the second loogie landed straight in my mouth.

"Get on your knees, faggot," he said as he forced me to the ground. This was probably the moment when I realized I could be a little out of my league fucking with this dude.

I expected (and kind of hoped) him to force his cock in my mouth right a way. Instead he turned around and forced my face into his hairy crack.

"Eat my ass, you filthy whore," he ordered. And I did. I ate his ass greedily, trying to extract every drop of flavor from his shit hole before he yanked it away from me.

Sure enough, he only let me feast for a couple of minutes before he pulled me away and turned around to shove his uncut cock down my throat.

Every couple of minutes, the guy would spit on my face, or force my mouth open with his thumb and spit directly in my mouth. I quickly became covered with his spit, as well as my own, and for the first time a worried about being late to my job interview.

"Clean my foreskin with your tongue," was his next command. "I bet you can still taste the pussy I fucked last night." I knew there was a vaguely unfamiliar taste and smell down there. That was one mystery solved.

Licking out the smegma from his foreskin was probably the most difficult thing to endure. It tasted really bad, and it made me gag at first. I was too far in to the scene at this point, and I knew this guy was not about to let me go before he had bust a nut.

Having done my best to clean his dick head, I started to deep throat him again, furiously sucking in the hopes that I could get him off, swallow the load, and get cleaned up in time for my job interview.

The guy in the yellow jock strap had very different plans.

"Now I'm going to fuck your ass," he said, as if he were a teacher announcing an upcoming field trip.

"I don't really get fucked," I replied, meekly.

"Shut the fuck up," he said, showing a little bit of anger. "Since the moment you laid eyes on me, the only thing you have wanted was my cock in your ass. This is your lucky day, cause I am going to make your wish come true."

Just his saying that made me believe it (at least partially). And it was probably a little bit true. I assumed the position, on my hands and knees doggie-style. He rimmed my ass a little, but not so that it was too enjoyable. His stubbly beard was rough on my ass cheeks, and he did not go out of his way to make the experience too much fun for me.

When he put his cock inside me, it went in all at once. Hard, fast, and with a lightning bolt of pain that shot throughout my entire body. He held his cock all the way inside me for a minute, maybe two, before he started really pumping my ass hard. Once he got going, he started pounding hard and fast. He reached around with his right hand and started pinching my nipple, which delighted me and had the effect of keeping my cock rock hard despite the painful thrashing my shit hole was taking at the moment.

Mercifully, he finally shot his jizz inside my whole. It must have taken 15 or 20 minutes, but I could tell from his rythm and the pulsations of his cock that he had dumped his load.

I hoped that this would be the end of it. I really needed to get cleaned up and get to my job interview. This had been an unusual and (mostly) fun hook up, but I wanted to get out of there before we had the misfortune of being caught and carted off in handcuffs for lewd behavior.

"I'm not done with you yet, you fucking whore." Fuck! What else did he want?

Clean my cock off. That was something I would be glad to do. There is really nothing I like more than the taste of my own ass mixed with some other dude's cum. I gave great attention to cleaning the entire surface of his foreskin, as well as the shaft of his cock. Then, for a split second, I thought I had made him cum a second time. Instead, to my great shock, he was pissing on me. Pissing!

"Drink it, bitch. Or else your nice suit is going to get all wet and stained."

I tried my best to drink what I could, but there was so much of it. It was rank and yellow, and smelled really bad. Everything I couldn't choke down ended up on my clothes, just as the guy in the yellow jock strap had warned.

When he was done, the guy leaned down to where my head was (I was practically laying on the floor by now) and he planted a gentle but firm kiss on my lips. It was truly sweet. And then he spit another loogie in my mouth.

So there I lay, pants around my ankles; my clothes, hair, and body covered in spit and piss and sweat; reeking of all sorts of odors; and cum leaking out my ass.

And I just had five minutes to make my job interview.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .