— originally published in
Honcho Magazine - January, 1991 issue —
I was prowling around the arcade. It was littered with tissue paper and
used rubbers. A real stink that Lysol couldn't hide! The place was
starting to look like a health department inspector's worst nightmare!
Since it was a chilly night on Polk Street and the cops were cracking
down on loitering and obstructing doorways, it had driven a lot of
semi-pros inside to hustle. I think the merchants described the cruising
activity between tricks and johns like that of a shark tank at feeding
In the course of my own meandering around the room full of video booths,
I discovered that an enterprising customer had drilled some peepholes
between the plywood partitions--not the size of glory holes, but big
enough to spy through. Though I'd never been into watching other people
get it on, I would sometimes look into a booth if a hustler had his
shirt off and was beating his meat, trying to entice a client. Then
there were the exhibitionist duos who left the door to the booth open so
that you couldn't help but see them go at it.
Voyeurism. I guess that's the name for it. I'd once known a guy who was
into that trip. His scene was to check into this cheap Market Street
hotel across the street from a big tourist hotel, then whip out his
binoculars and spend many happy hours spying into the rooms of people
across the street. He told all sorts of lurid tales about seeing
prostitutes and servicemen in hot sex-action. And while he never
admitted it, I could tell by the heavy breathing which accompanied his
descriptions that he'd hauled his dick out and played with it while he
I began a little spying of my own, watching the man in the next booth.
He was sitting on the bench, completely unaware that I was watching him.
And his eyes were fixed on the monitor showing a fuck video. The light
from the screen flickered and there was the sound of moaning. Then,
while I watched the young man rub his crotch, my own cock got hard.
The video must have gotten to the good part because when the guy
watching it took out his prick, it was as hard as a rock. While he
watched the action on the TV monitor, he stroked his dick--a stiff, cut
one that pointed upward. At first he stroked it slow, then faster and
faster. Then I sort of joined in, pulling my own prick. But before long
I was rudely interrupted by a banging on the door of my booth.
"Drop tokens if you're going to stay in the booth," a gruff voice said.
It was obviously the attendant, so I fished into my pocket and dumped a
token into the slot. Of course I figured that the interruption had
scared off the guy in the next booth. But nope. He was still seated and
stroking his cock. So I started flogging my meat in the same
rhythm--although he was unaware of it.
Faster and faster he beat his meat. Then he grunted and his cock went
off like a water hose. I mean to say the pressure of his orgasm made him
go off like a sprinkler! Even in the semi-darkness of the booth I could
see his creamy white jism hit the floor like foam on a dark sea. I
stopped jacking myself because I didn't want to get off right away,
knowing that sometimes after I got my gun I just wanted to go home and
crash. But that night I wanted more time to explore the peepholes I'd
Wandering around the room, I avoided the gazes of obvious hustlers. One
of them was rubbing his basket, trying to get somebody hot enough to pay
for what was inside. That certainly wasn't what I was looking for!
I felt like a spy on a mission. But it also made me feel like one of
those vice cops who stand behind the screens of heating vents in public
toilets and watch for homosexual activity, then make busts. Some cops
even stand at urinals as decoys [so I've heard] and stroke their meat to
entice contact, create a crime if you will, then put the bracelets on
some poor sucker.
But none of these thoughts stopped me from going into the booth where
the young man shot his wad and taking a look at it. I even stepped in
the slimy goo on the floor! No doubt he'd shot a hell of a load. The
room even smelled of his body odor and jism.
All of a sudden someone entered the booth I'd just left. Since he had
taken another guy inside with him, I couldn't help but take a look
through the peephole. Their crotches were almost in my face! They groped
each other and took out each other's cock. Both were big beauties. One
was cut, but the other wasn't. They went to work jacking each other's
cock. Then, just as I took my cock out, one of them kneeled down on the
grimy floor and stuffed the other's big, drooling uncut cock in his
The suckee rubbed the brunet's hair while the brunet's motor-mouth
worked on his friend's cock. Then, he let go of the throbbing cock and
sucked the man's balls. Never mind that I had whipped out my meat and
started to jack it! It was almost like I could feel the cock-sucker's
lips on my own boner!
Suddenly, the suckee pulled the brunet up to his feet. At first I
thought maybe they'd discovered me watching them and were going to
another booth for privacy. But nothing doing. The guy getting his cock
sucked wanted a chance to munch on his pal's goodies. Dropping to his
knees, he went to work licking on 3" cut cock that was shorter but
thicker than his own uncut tool.
Never missing a stroke on my huge erection, I looked down and watched
the blond jack his own cock while he serviced the brunet. He sucked and
I beat off along with him without his knowledge or consent. But I didn't
care. It was as though I was on a spy mission and I could do whatever I
pleased as long as I didn't get caught at it.
Before long the blond took his mouth off the bloated cockhead and beat
it while he jacked himself off faster and faster. By the brunet's groans
and moans, I could tell that he wasn't going to hold out much longer.
Then, all of a sudden, the cocksucker (obviously an expert in these
matters) got down on his pal's big cock and sucked it dry, mercilessly
squeezing those pendulous balls to get every drop of the load.
I stopped jacking myself. I still didn't want to finish yet. Good thing
too because the brunet evidently believed that one good suck deserved
another. Crouching on his knees, he started to suck on the big uncut
cock like a vacuum cleaner. Then he jacked the shaft and worked on the
cock-head, exposed from its sheath.
"It's fucking cumming!" the blond screamed.
The brunet furiously jacked the shaft but kept his mouth on the bloated
head. I could see him swallow. Then, like a snake eating a mouse, he
gulped the jizz down his throat — not spilling a drop of it!
I just squeezed my cock and stared as one zipped his fly and the other
buttoned up. I could have gone for an encore. But soon one of them
exited the booth, then the other.
I took a walk around the maze of cubicles. My crotch was packed hard and
I noticed an old geezer who was determined to get at me. But I was
having nothing to do with him even though he bird-dogged me around the
booths until he spotted an open door with an occupant. Then he went
inside and some hungry cock-sucker snagged him like a fly in a spider's
I walked around awhile longer. The crowd had started to thin. But just
as I was about to call it a night, I ducked into a cubicle and peered
through the peephole. What I saw was hotter than any of the live sex
shows you have to pay to see!
One of the guys was a kid who looked to be eighteen or nineteen, likely
a hustler who'd found a score. He was flexing his biceps and posing.
Then I heard him say, "Get down on that dick, man!"
The other guy was maybe ten years older, not bad looking either. Both of
them were dark-complected, but the dim light made it hard to distinguish
their features. They didn't bother with playing the video and the
attendant wasn't around to insist. But from a crack of light that had
seeped through the booth, I saw the older guy put a bill into the
younger one's hand.
"For this I fuck your face 'til you cum?" The kid had a deep voice, and
he sounded like rough trade. The older guy unzipped the hustler's fly
and took out a soft, cut cock. Then he jacked it. But nothing stirred.
"Can you get it up?"
"Yeah but you gotta suck it a little, asshole." The hustler stuffed his
cock in the man's mouth. Then, his dick got hard alright! And before
long it swelled so big that the cock-sucker had to spit it out and
settle on jacking the spit-soaked cock while he looked at it.
It was a nice teenaged cock with tender milky-white flesh and a leafy
pattern of blue veins underneath. Naturally I got my cock out and
fondled it till it was hard and pulsing. Then I heard the hustler say,
"Blow me. Oh yeah, that's it. My meat feels so good in your fucking
The cocksucker sucked and sucked on the cock. Then he stopped, like he
had lockjaw or something. "Can't you cum?" he asked.
"Not for ten dollars, dude. Want me to cum, it'll cost you twenty."
The man put another bill into the hustler's hand. Then the teenaged
hustler looked at the money like maybe it would make him cum. "Damn!" he
cursed, frantically tugging at his joint.
Watching the man blow the teenaged hustler made me horny. But seeing the
money and the reason for it left my tool only semi-hard. It wasn't like
I was the one who had to pay. It's just that I thought sex should be for
love, not money.
The man continued to blow the teenager. But as far as I could tell the
hustler was a long way from cumming. His cock stayed sort of rubbery,
sliding in and out of the man's mouth. Then, after a while, the
cock-sucker made a suggestion: "Maybe you could get it off if you fucked
me. You like to fuck, don't you?"
"Sure. But I charge more for that."
By my calculation the cock-sucker's bill was up to thirty bucks and it
was still dubious whether he'd get the hustler off or not. But I noticed
that more money exchanged hands.
Before long the man dropped his pants and I discovered that he wasn't
wearing any shorts. He had a nice round smooth butt, leading me to
believe that with an ass like that he shouldn't have to pay to get it
fucked. Hell! I'd have done it for nothing! But then again I was only a
I watched the hustler feel the man's meaty butt cheeks. He spit right in
the crack. Then I could have sworn a wisp of smoke escaped from the
man's steamy butthole. Tugging on my ball sack and grasping my shaft, I
was ready to be a silent part of the action.
"Stick it up my ass. Yeah! Sock it to me, baby."
"Shut the fuck up, asshole. You're getting this cheap because you ain't
an old fart and I want to do it. When I get down with you, you'll know
you been dorked."
I started pulling my prick right away as I watched the teenager's cock
sink into that beefy ass. I could almost feel the heat, the fiery hole,
the ass lips clutching my cock. Then I imagined what it would be like to
feel the hustler's balls banging against my ass cheeks.
"Fuck it! Fuck that ass!"
Pour on the coal, I thought. Really give it to the sonuvabitch! I had to
bite my lip so that I didn't utter a sound. One peep out of me and I
would have been discovered; the action would have been over. Who knows?
The hustler might have jammed a pen through the hole and into my eye. Or
maybe he'd have busted down the door and done a number on me, stomped my
ass, crushed my bones and left me in a pool of blood on the floor that
reeked with stale piss and cum.
I was stroking my prick. But suddenly I stopped in order to keep
control. I didn't want to cum despite the hot action because I didn't
want to pant and scream and call attention to myself.
It was plain that the hustler was an experienced fucker. While he fed
his cock to that hungry butt, the guy who was getting poked moaned and
moved his ass around and bucked back at the stiff prick that had invaded
it. By simply watching the fucking I could almost feel my cock in that
hot fuck-hole. Then my asshole gave a twitch and I dropped my pants and
fingered my hole while I beat my meat, stopping just short of
The hustler held onto the man's waist and really plowed into his ass. I
mean to say his cock fucked that hole hard and fast! Then his balls
started to slap against the fuckee's nuts.
"Shoot it! Shoot that hot load up my ass. Do it now! Aw, fuck. Oh, shit.
I can feel it. Ohhh!"
The hustler rammed his cock all the way up the man's asshole, then he
threw back his head and his knees buckled. "Take it, man! Take my
"Stay inside me. I gotta fucking cum or I'll die," the man moaned.
"Hurry up, man."
In the shadowy booth I could tell that the guy who was taking it up the
ass was also beating his meat. He fisted his prick fast and furious.
"Get it off, mother-fucker. I gotta go," the hustler complained.
"Just one more minute. Please. Oh God, I'm cumming!"
Because of the angle of my position at the peephole--and because of the
shadows--I saw the jizz ooze out but I couldn't tell where it landed.
The hustler crudely pulled his prick out of the man's gaping asshole.
Then he wiped the crud onto the man's butt cheeks and hoisted his jeans.
"You were wonderful! I really needed that," the man sighed.
"Then give me a tip."
"I'm sorry, I'm tapped out. Next time ... I promise."
"Fuck you. That never happens." It sounded as though the teenaged
hustler spat. I don't know if it was in the guy's face or whether it
landed on the floor. But he split and the other man soon exited.
Wouldn't you know that not thirty seconds passed before another guy came
into the booth. It amused me how he searched the floor for telltale
Signs, probably looking for the cum of the guy who got fucked. Then he
sniffed the air, like he got high on the sex stench, and whipped out his
cock and started to jack it. No doubt his cock was one of the thickest
I'd ever seen, literally like a beer can!
"Hot fucking sex. Cock-sucking and ass-fucking. Hustling little scumbag.
Horny john. God damn filthy bastards," the man in the next booth raved
on and on while he furiously beat off. He was probably loony,
lust-crazed. But he had a huge cock--a fantasy cock that the mere sight
of made me want to get my rocks off.
"Dirty, disgusting Peeping-Tom! You saw it all, didn't you? Took my
fucking peephole, damn you!" he ranted, whacking his meat like a madman.
"Take this, you depraved asshole! Here's mud in your eye!"
Before I could back away, he aimed his spurting cock--right at the
peephole and white-washed it. A glob of cum hit me square in the eye.
But I was so hot that I lost all control and splattered a wad all over
the wall. Then it dripped down onto the floor, mingling with other
puddles of spunk.
As soon as my cock had popped, I hightailed it out of the arcade. No
telling what the demented guy would do next. But my guess was that he'd
stuff those peepholes with tissue paper until he was ready to use them