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Then his fingers were probing my ass as he continued to stroke my cock, and I realized I would let him do anything he wanted to me. For the next few minutes the owner of the store teased my cock with his fingers as he pressed his hips into me and I felt his own thick manmeat on my ass. The best I could manage was a groan of pure raw lust. "I see you like our sculpture," the man said in a low sexy whisper. My eyes closed and I cared about nothing but the sensation of his fingers on my aching cock. Suddenly I felt a hand on my leg and then my bare cock. I stared at the scuplture and I wanted to be that boy. I stared transfixed at it, dimly aware that my engorged cock was now standing exposed from the leg of my loose shorts. One man's cock was in the boy's mouth, the other man's cock buried in the boy's ass. In the corner, on a small mahogany table, stood a bronze sculpture of two men and a boy. Eventually I found myself in a second room, off the main room, and suddenly realized that all the shelves were filled with gay porn - books, magazines and videos.
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I perused the shelves full of screenplays and books on directors, drifting aimlessly. I trod up the stairs to the second-floor shop huffing and puffing. I wore no underwear, and I was enjoying the sensation of my loose shorts against my cock as I pedalled.Īt long last I arrived at my destination, the film bookstore. Soon both my tank top and my shorts were sticking to me. It was a hot summer day and I bicycled downtown, slowly because of the humidity, yet I still managed to break into a sweat.