In the program library ?

( An absolutely truthful story )


In 1964, I was 17 and a newcomer at Prairie State Institute of engineering science. I was not doing particularly well in my report even though I had graduated top of my socio-economic class from a technical high school in Newmarket. As I remember, I had three major job : 1 ) I was a commuter train student. One and one half hours on the bus and `` L '' ( rapid transit ) each way, from family to school. family from 900 to 1800 left little clip to learn or sleep. 2 ) Chicago 's college preparatory high schooltime ( an all boy high school at that ! ) left me ill prepared to handle the mathematical rigor needed in engineering school.3 ) Last and probably foremost was my compulsion with sex. When my brain was on sex the amount of learning that went on was near right-down zero. Oh sure enough, I had dozens of intimate experiences, but still a virgin where it mattered, at to the lowest degree to me. I dated to no avail. My girlfriend that I fell madly in erotic love with over six month, upon commencement exercise, left for a horse opera college, never to be seen again. I fondled women and female child on the bus and gear, they must have known mus n't they ( ? ), still no luck, I tried to nibble up a hooker, with no car, I was almost laughed off the street. Yeah, at 16 I had gotten so ghost one dark that I had sex with 4 guy cable, and after that, even tried to earn a few extra long horse selling myself. What a cataclysm ! Whenever, sex took over it seemed like I lost all control. I was like a addict when it came to sex ; once turned on I could n't resist. I was attracted to girl and charwoman, I was n't attracted to men. However, it seemed guy rope were attracted to me. I think my tall, melt off material body and womanly nervus facialis features were somehow responsible for that. Guys grabbed my ass at some of my summer jobs, or sometimes made verbal overtures about getting together. No thanks, I was n't interested, I wanted pussy ! Boy did I ever ! I 'd spend hours at the arcade and adult book stores on South Wabash, getting my dose of porno. cleaning lady sucking, womanhood fucking. I was going out of my mind.

I left the `` HUB '', a low modern font building, living accommodations the cafeteria, auditorium, and general social sphere. This is where pupil congregated when not in class. An avant garde art appearance had just been hung on the bulwark and one piece in particular was causing quite a fuss. At to the lowest degree, it did for me. The title was called `` Blow Job '' and it was a dark and white painting, probably 8 foot on a side, depicting film negatives that showed the point of distaff lips and lingua sucking and licking a penis. The airstrip were horizontal, overlapping and at angles. Each frame depicting another apparent movement, like seeing a motion picture frame by frame. I could n't drive my middle of it. Trying to separate and segregate each frame in my minds eye. My erection became obvious, tenting my loose suit slacks. I used my arm to push it up. Better to suffer a glob than a tent. It started to turn obvious I was spending too practically time standing there looking at one icon, so I regrettably forced myself to exit. The work was later removed due to too many ill.

It was cold outside and I was glad to get into the library. It was always warmly, almost too warm. The depository library was my refuge. pipe down ! No beguilement. I could get my work done, catch a few z 's, and fantasy without interruption. I remember the toilet were clean and the divider, red. People would indite little government note on the rampart and sometimes just the words or crude draftsmanship would call on me on so much that I had to masterbate right there. The building itself was a modern raised single floor, designed by Bruno Walter Netsch, I believe, in a very Miesian vogue. Mies Van der Rohe had designed several of the buildings on the campus and the victor plan for IIT facilities. On the Dixie end was the IIT student depository library, the Second Earl of Guilford end was the John D. Carrar ( ca n't remember the exact spelling ) business organization supported engineering science program library. That was my favorite as it was less populate and I usually would n't run into anyone I knew there. The heart and soul of the libary was adminstrative offices and the circulation desk. Asa Gray windows encirlced the intact building. You could see out but during the day they appeared Negro from external. Along the windowpane were the individual chairs and desks for patron. My extra spot was the last desk against the West wall. Behind that desk was the wall of the adminstrative post, to the left the windows, to the right, course of shelving for periodicals. Tall calamitous unit of measurement crammed with reference material that it seemed nobody cared about. At the end of the book stacks, probably 30 feet east of my desk was an aisle leading to doors for the adminstrative federal agency. Along the former English of the aisle a wood wall. You were n't supposed to sleep in the subroutine library but if you stayed out of raft nobody really bothered you and this desk was the most secluded in the library. I put my Samsonite briefcase on the desk, took off my dark green courdouroy pelage, and collapsed into the chair. There were only two people on my face of the subroutine library. One about 7 seats from mine and one completely at the other end. Stretching my branch out, I rubbed my motherfucker head teacher through my slacks with my riff thinking of the `` Blow Job ''. Why was n't that me in the painting ? How come I could n't get any pussy ? I mean I was n't bad looking, tall, blondish brown tomentum, diminished boned frame, sort of cunning grimace. Was I wierd or something, was I not fast-growing enough. Was I too aggresive ? I saw miss throwing themselves at guys who looked and acted like shit. What was I doing wrong ? I could n't get that mouth out of my psyche, sucking, licking. I leaned forward, putting my arms on top of the briefcase and my head resting on them. I needed to calm down, I needed to rest, I dozed off slightly.

I felt the tap on my right shoulder. I jumped, sitting up. Was mortal objecting to my sleeping ? I was groggy. The somebody tapping me was an oriental person guy in a jaundiced sweater and dungaree. He was probably Chinese, and I remember his face was rather saturnine and blanched looking.He was about 5'5 '', and quite slenderize. He put a folded up composition in straw man of me on the desk. I looked at it but had no idea what it said. It just looked like some routine. I looked up at him, and shrugged my shoulders, handing it back to him. I assumed he could n't utter English language. He just stood there like he had asked me a interrogative sentence and was waiting for the response. I shook my head and shrugged again. He took as tone closer. My gaze dropped from his brass and I could tell he had an hard-on straining against the tight denim. I quickly looked down, my hand grasping the border of the desk. I was shaking slightly. I knew I should n't but ..., he now moved from somewhat behind me to next to me. I was now looking right at his phallus outlined in his dungaree, what was I doing ? My the right way mitt left the desk bound like I had no control over it. I slowly reached for his rooster, I could only stare at my paw now grasping his jeans feeling the shot within. It was strong and house, I squeezed gently, rubbing its total length. I kept asking myself, `` what are you doing ? ``, but I could n't barricade. My finger grasped the zip fastener tab and slowly pulled it down, the fly parted, exposing his pecker inch by inch. I wrapped my tenacious thin fingers around the shaft and freed it from its containment. I stroked slowly up and down its length feeling the lovingness, and suavity. My thumb slowly rubbed the thickess of its glans. I watched my hand stroking, rubbing, his putz getting more engorged with blood, responding to me. He reached over and unlatched my briefcase opening it so that it provided a roadblock to anyone in nominal head of us. I held onto him, I could n't let go. It was at least 6.5 column inch of hot, hard, smoothen, beautiful cut putz. I wanted to be the painting, both penis and lip. My head moved forward, my lips pressed against the end. He moved toward me, pushing his legs against the desk, closing the gap between my briefcase lid and his body. My back talk parted slightly, I felt his cock slipping against my backtalk, from the sleekness of the beam of light, up to the thick rim of its head. I could n't believe I was doing this, but I wanted it, needed it. My tongue rotated around the silken head of his rooster, licking the seam from the rim to the slit, up and down. Then lowering my head I moved my back talk up and down the shaft making recherche beloved to this phallus. I could n't get enough. He reached down and lowered his cock so that it was sticking straight out at me. I looked up into his middle and he nodded as my lips parted and his shaft head slipped into my mouth. My tongue kept encircling his knob, a small amount of precum oozed from the slit and my natural language was there to clean it from him, tasting him. I thought about what I was doing, could individual see us, what would happen if we got caught ? I still could n't turn back. I slid him deeper into my mouth sucking hard. He moaned. My lips were sliding from the tip to almost the Base of his cock while I sucked it like an all-day lollipop. Saliva was making him wet and keeping me swallowing almost continually. His hips started to rock back and Forth and I could experience the tension in him edifice. My will hired man was holding his dick with two fingers, keeping it in channel with my mouth, the other was squeezing his go away ass cheek, pulling him into me.

'' Yeessss ! ``, His hired man grabbed the top of my head and held me down on him as he pumped prance deep into my mouth, spasm after spasm of hot cum shot into my mouth. I could taste the saltiness, the alkalinity, I could smell his cum and I loved it, I could n't get enough. The start two spasms and hot cum and his cock filled my mouth. I swallowed, both ! My sass were now pressed against his zipper. My throat closed tightly around the forefront. Spurt, spirt, spirt. I could feel him throbbing against the inside of my rima oris and my tongue. Thick lots of cum splashed against the dorsum of my throat. Trying to accept and breath caused my throat to contract, pulling at the knob lodged there, milking it. I was getting out of breath. I slowly backed off, sucking and licking every finis juice off that beautiful scape. He looked down at me as I licked the remaining cum from my backtalk.

'' Come ''

He took my coat off the rachis of the death chair and handed it to me to put on and had me stand between the book rack. He went down on his stifle and parted the coat as if somehow that was going to continue people from seeing what was happening. He started kissing my crotch, rubbing his face into me. I felt disgusted, my erecting melted. He unzipped my slacks and pulled my flacid member from my underwear and slacks. I looked up, the door to the office opened and a girl walked down the aisle. What if she looked over here ? What if she saw us and reported it ? She did n't, but I was scared shitless. He was now stroking my non-erect penis.

'' Why so smarr ? '' he sounded so disappoint I was little. He started to kiss and wipe my cock across his face. Yuck, just suck the anathemise thing, I thought.

'' Scared '', I whispered, `` what if some one sees us ? '' I started to get out away but he quickly sucked me into his mouth grabbing my ass cheeks with both hands and pulling me toward him. `` aaahhh..ohhhh ... .just suck it '', was all I could muster.

'' MMMMMmmmmm '', he sucked for only a few minute, and I could feel my body set about to thrill. I was cumming and I was n't even rear yet. I pulled back and the cum dig out hitting him in the face and squirting onto his sweater. I was embarrassed. He leaned forward again sucking me into his mouth until the orgasm subsided, swallowing all I had to give.

'' It 's on your sweater '', I said feebly, trying to get the cum off his perspirer, with my finger. He grabbed my digit and licked them clean. I wanted to go, had to get out of there, I could n't stand it, I felt humiliated. What had I done ?

I stuffed my phallus in my falloff and zipped up, I grabbed my briefcase and headed down the next gangway over. I was moving as fast as my wooden leg could take the air. I did n't even see a guy standing in the aisle until I almost bumped into him. `` Hi '', he said as he turned toward me. He was a big, older guy in a top coat and suit and he was holding his rooster. Then it dawned on me, he was jacking off watching us. Brother, what was the world cumming to ?