Adventure in Pioneersville

by Curtis

 

My name is Bill Taylor, and I am a free-lance photographer and historian. First off I need to explain that I am not one of the typical narrators of stories on gay sites. I am not 30 years, old, am not 6' 2", don’t have blue eyes, and am not very much in shape. In fact I am 60, balding, and with a paunch, and 5' 8". If my statistics don’t match your expectations, please read a different story.

     I was given a gig by a popular history magazine to do a story on Pioneersville, a small city of about 25,000 located in the heart of the Midwest. I do not own nor drive a car, but since I live only five hours from there by road, I took at bus to fulfill my assignment. I left my town, Gooseneck Bend, at 10 a.m. and arrived promptly at 3 p.m. I checked into the inn where I had made a reservation in the downtown area, and decided to take a stroll.

     Pioneersville was settled in the early 1800s, and is a perfectly preserved city from all the periods since then. I walked down Main Street, with its great restored Victorian storefronts. Benches are placed all along the street, and the whole atmosphere is very laid back, as befitting such a city. I was thinking that I needed to hire a car and driver, since the city is a bit too large for a tired 60 year-old to cover by foot.

     A distinguished-looking older gentleman was sitting on a bench, and I asked him, “I’m looking to rent a car with a driver. Do you know of someone?” He replied that he did not, but a guy sitting on the next bench replied, “Maybe I can help you. I am not working at the moment.” I took a good look at him. He seemed to be about 25, in good physical shape, and quite good-looking. He introduced himself as Kevin. We quickly agreed on a price, which was $75 per day. I didn’t yet know whether it would take one or two days to get my job done. He agreed to pick me up at a 8 a.m the next day at my hotel.

     He arrived on the hour, in an old jalopy, that had certainly seen better days. As I got in, he shook my hand, and said, “I’m a pretty agreeable guy, as long as nobody messes with me.” I thought his comment curious, and asked, “You mean when someone wants to pick a fight with you?” He replied, “No, when some queer tries to mess with me.” His response disturbed me. I am, and always have been, macho, and neither straights nor gays guess that I am gay, so he could not have known either.

     I replied, “Why do you bring this subject up?”

     He answered, “I just like to keep the record straight. I’m a pussy lover and always have been. I have a lot of bitches on the string.”

     I told him, “Let’s drop this subject right now. I didn’t come onto you.”

     The morning went well. I got photos of many of the old storefronts, and some of the old elegant mansions. We came to a small park, about two blocks square. He said, “See that park there? Well at night queers hang around there to suck guys’ dicks.”

     Curious, I asked “How do you know that?”

     “Well, one night when I was about 20 years old and could not rouse any of my bitches by phone, I decided to take a walk from my house, just to try to calm my frustration and get rid of my hard on. When I walked into the park, there was a guy about your age sitting on a bench. As I passed him, he said , ‘How are things? Looking for action?’ I asked What kind of action?” He answered, ‘Well like getting your dick sucked.’”

     I yelled, “You fucking faggot, no way. I left the park in a hurry. But when I got to the street, I thought, what the hell. I’m so fucking horny, and nobody will know. So I went back in and told him OK. He took me into an area with bushes, and give me a fantastic blow job. I’ll never forget it. I don’t know why I am telling you all of this. I guess I feel guilty. But it will never happen again.”

     So I replied, “No problem, forget about it.”

     “It was now12:30, and I was beginning to get hungry. I asked Kevin, “Would you like join me for lunch?”

     He was quick to answer, “Hell, why not?”

     So I took him to my hotel for lunch. After a decent meal, with wine, I felt a bit tired. I said to him, “I think I’ll spend a little time in my room, what do you want to do?”    

     “I ain’t got nuthin to do. Can I watch some TV in your room while you relax?”

     At this point I began to hatch a scheme to see what would happen. After all, I wanted to make it with him, but was afraid that he might beat the hell out of me. But I said, “Sure, that’s OK.”

     Once in my room, I asked him what he wanted to watch. “He replied, “Do they have a porno channel here?” I replied, “I donno, know, but let’s try.” Sure enough there was one, and he settled back to watch from the armchair, while I sat on my bed.

     I noticed that he got an immediate hard-on. He told me, “Man, I haven’t had any pussy for three days, I’m fucking horny. Would you mind if I jerk off in front of you, I can’t take it any longer.”

     I was surprised, but replied, “Be my guest.” Watching attentively, I was amazed to see a perfectly formed 8 inch prick pop out of his pants. I couldn’t resist saying, “What a beautiful dick you have.”

     He replied, “Hey man, I can’t believe what you just said. Are you interested?”

     I said, “You bet I am, how about it?”

     He replied “Go for it.”

     It was a great blow job from beginning to end for both of us. When I finished, he said, “Man don’t tell anyone about this. If you do I’ll kill you.”

     I told him, “Hey, I don’t live here, and don’t know anybody who lives here, so relax.’

     Then we left the hotel, and I spent 2 more hours taking photos, until it was 5 p.m. I said, “I’m finished with my project. Can you drive me to the bus station?”

     He replied, “Of course.” In a few minutes we were there, and I paid him the agreed amount. He said, “Man, that was awesome. When will you be back in town?”

     I replied, “Probably never.”

     “Well in case you do, here is my card. But only phone me at home, OK?”

     I said no problem and looked at his card. I was shocked to the core. The card stated,

          Kevin Smith
          U.S. Secret Service
          Work: 888-xxxx
          Home: 999-2031

     On the bus, I mused about what a strange guy he was, and what a weird experience. I kept the card, but have no plans to return to Pioneersville.

 

The End. Not to be continued.

Comments, pro or con are welcomed.

 

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