INTRODUCTION: The following is a memorable highlight of a frisky night from the summer of 2003 when I got lucky (very lucky), here in Portland, Oregon.

PART 2: BIG MOCHA MEAT
WHEN: Monday 07/07/2003 11:45 P.M. to Tuesday 07/08/2003 12:45 A.M.
WHERE: Taboo Adult Video-MLK, 237 SE Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd.

I’d been to this location a few times, and the crowd and action was always hit and miss: a Ghost Town on some nights, and on other nights there’d be a fair amount of traffic with some hot interactions, and a nice mix of whites and blacks, and a range of ages and physical types. Unfortunately, on occasion, I’d do an about face and get the hell out of there if the black drug crowd had taken over the back arcade area.

But tonight the place was cookin'! The mystery was: Why at that hour, and on a Monday? Oddly enough, I was kind of in the mood to just go solo and crank out a quick load while zipping through video channels and dropping a few bucks. Sometimes, for me, it’s enough to be around all of that jacked-up male energy without actually interacting with it.

Anyway, all booths were taken except for a lone, small Buddy Booth: these had no glory hole, but did have a shared glass panel you and your neighbor could “de-fog” in order to watch each other jerk off. And tonight, instead of leaving the door ajar as an open invitation, I just left it unlocked, in case one of the many “rattlers” wanted to take a peek, and then, if we were both up for it, anything could happen. Meanwhile, I fed a few dollars into the machine, unzipped my jeans, pulled my cock and balls through the fly of my boxer shorts, and started channel surfing. I stopped at a straight D.P. scene with great rear shots of two hot, big-dicked athletes fucking the hell out of some gal’s ass, and I was merrily jacking away while wishing that was my ass getting reamed from here to next week.

Soon enough I saw the “?” light flashing above the knee-to-chin Buddy Window. When I “de-fogged” the glass, all I got was a quick look at the guy in the next booth from the neck down, noting a T-shirt and jeans, just as another guy opened my door and stepped into my booth. This one was a nice looking bear with a cropped beard in his late thirties, tall and broad-chested, who wasted no time in pulling out a really fat dick sprouting from a thick patch of cock fur. Well, that meat looked good enough to eat, so I got right down on my knees and worked that chunky dick inside my mouth in two seconds flat. But once The Beard got hard, he pulled me off his 5-incher saying: “Too soon.” Then he got down to suck me to the root, with his beard and mustache giving the blowjob an extra kick by roughing up my cropped pubes and plucked balls with all of his bristly face fur. However, after a few minutes, The Beard pulled off, stood up, tucked his dick away, and with a smile said he wanted to check out the other booths.

I realized I’d forgotten about the guy in the next booth, and while I got a kick out of knowing he’d been watching me swap-suck with The Beard, I was disappointed to discover that at some point I had lost my neighbor altogether: the Buddy Window had been “fogged up” and his booth was dark and empty. So I turned my attention back to the monitor, surfing channels, trying to decide between a fantastic gay rimming scene (well-lit and with the camera in the right place, for a change), or another channel with a pale bubble-butt athlete getting skewered at each end by a pair of growling, big-dicked, rough and furry muscle men.

Again I was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and closing behind me. I turned to find an extraordinarily handsome mocha brown athlete in his late twenties had joined me, and with a modest smile, he positioned himself with his back to the Buddy Window. Mocha Dude stood well over six feet tall, and he had a shaved head, big beautiful amber eyes, and the superb physique of a regular at the gym. He wore an unbuttoned short-sleeved cream-colored shirt over a white A-shirt, baggy khaki shorts over print boxers, and sandals.

Mocha Dude just stood there giving me that easy smile, and I sensed what might have been a little shyness coming from this nice, gentle, quiet guy. But then he placed his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts, using the rest of his fingers to gently massage the large mound at his crotch, and I asked: “Can I help with that?” Mocha Dude gave me a big smile and, keeping his eyes on mine, he unzipped his fly and reached in to pull out a beautiful 9-inch slab of semi-erect meat. And it was still growing.

Well, I have a face that reveals everything, and Mocha Dude seemed quietly amused by the obvious look of delight on my happy mug, which probably came across as something like “Thank you, Santa!” I stepped up between his spread legs and just handled that big cock, gently fondling and stroking the soft, soft skin of that dark shaft until it stood fully erect and throbbing, hovering in mid-air perpendicular to his body. How big? I have extra large hands, and having done the one-two-three hand-stack on a ruler back at home, I knew I had at least a 10-inch dick in my hands. But Mocha Dude’s cock had another 2 fat inches to go, and I could just barely get my wrapped-around thumb and middle finger to touch. That’s right: when full-grown, I was faced with 12 fat inches of big, thick, rock hard and throbbing, beautiful brown meat.

So I just stood there, kind of leaning in towards Mocha Dude, both of us shifting our eyes from my handling of his cock and back to each other’s eyes again. Because he was probably straight, maybe bi at best, and keeping his hands to himself for the duration, I stayed away from his face, although that mouth was just made for kissing. Sadly, I didn’t get to explore the rest of his body either, which deserved at least an hour or two of worship, with that flawless mocha brown skin and amazing physique. But I was happy to continue with the handjob, and increased the pressure of my hands until his breathing became audible and his cock began to drool.

That would have been the perfect point to turn around and back right onto that big beauty. But I didn’t want to scare him off, and instead I stepped back and bent over to see how much of Mocha Dude’s meat I could get down my throat. Not much, as it turns out, with only the fat cockhead and another 2 inches at most stretching my jaw to the max (my ass is much more accommodating). Did Mocha Dude complain? Hell, no! The second his cock hit the back of my throat, he let out a groan and a big burp of precum, which ratcheted up my enthusiasm, and then I really went to town, giving him one heck of a suck-and-hand job.

This guy must have been pretty hot to trot from the start, because within ten minutes of his stepping into the booth and allowing me to impale my mouth on his cock, Mocha Dude’s breathing became forced, his body began to tense up, and his dick became hard as a spike. He exhaled what sounded like a cross between a sigh and a moan, and then he went stiff. Beneath my fingers I could feel the first jet working its way from the base of his cock before it blasted the back of my throat. And with each successive blast, Mocha Dude would quietly moan and fire off another long blast of hot cum, right past my tongue, filling me up, good and fast.

It took another couple of minutes for him to go dry, and believe me, I sucked out every drop of cum he had to offer. (Sweet stuff, too: he must have been a fruit juice drinker.) When Mocha Dude caught his breath and slumped against the Buddy Window with a satisfied sigh, I asked with a laugh: “Are you OK?” He nodded with a shy grin, and then straightened up to get that slowly softening shaft back into his baggy shorts. As he zipped up, I said: “Thanks.” Silent as ever, he just smiled and slipped out the door.

After that experience, I didn’t want any interruptions to take the edge off the sex buzz I was soaring on. So I locked the door, dropped a buck in the machine, and quickly located a scene with a big cock yanking free of a hot ass, just as it slammed that gaping hole with a half-dozen blasts of thick white cum. And I was there. I immediately turned my rigid, drooling dick towards the Buddy Window with a loud “Fuck!” and splattered the glass with ropes of hard-hitting cum, making one hell of a mess. But, fuck me, it was worth it. (And being a good Scout, I cleaned up the glass and floor with paper towels.)

2009 Epilogue: I’ve made a number of return trips to Taboo-MLK, enjoying a wide range of white and black cocks and the men attached to them, but I never again had such an encounter with so large a cock, or with a man as nice and well-built as Mocha Dude on that summer night, way back in 2003.

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