Pick-up on Ninth Avenue
As a gay man
of a certain age, I’ve had a lot of sex. I don’t mean for that to sound like
bragging. I’m sure there were plenty of other who outpaced me, but being
products of the “sexual revolution” and early “gay liberation” we reveled in
it. As early as my college days I was introduced to the pleasures of the gay
bath houses in Manhattan and their fairly anonymous hook-ups. Many guys
preferred it that way; most of the married men insisted on it! The city exuded
a sexual energy that has been long since dissipated and the Meatpacking
District in 1986 was its sexual solar plexus. Our loft sat atop two notorious
sites, Jay’s, a gay bar where you could easily give or get a hand or blow job
in the bathroom, and The Manhole, a sex club in the basement that catered to a
gay and leather clientele. The infamous Mineshaft was two blocks away. A
favorite pastime of mine was to sit in our living room and watch the hookers on
Ninth Avenue putting on lipstick for twenty, thirty minutes at a time while
huddled around a trashcan fire. Sex was everywhere and easily accessible.
So when a
trick stands out in your memory…….
Where I was
coming from, I cannot say. But I was returning home one evening along the Ninth
Avenue side of our building and I was coming up from the West Village. The
elevator in our building was on that quieter, darker side. It was also the side
where many meat trucks parked and it was not uncommon for guys to cruise for
sex between the trucks.
And there he
has…. In the shadows between two trucks. A man. A Marlboro-type man with a
moustache and broad shoulders. He stood between the trucks, facing one, with
the stance of a man at a urinal, legs spread, hand on his crotch. If it had
been lighter out I’m sure he would have had aviator shades on.
I don’t
think we made eye contact at first, but something about this guy just turned me
on. I circled around the trucks and looked at him from the other side. He
probably saw me but was very dedicated to his fake pissing posture, looking
straight forward at the side of a meat truck, rubbing his cock in his pants.
I could have
easily just gone up in our elevator at this point, but something about this guy
aroused me. I continued to circle around the trucks and when I came to his
“alleyway” I took a deep breath and ventured towards him. He still avoided eye
contact so I reached out to fondle his crotch. Immediately he reached out with
his right arm, put his hand on the back of my head and started to push me down,
my face towards his enclosed cock, my shoulders down so I’d be on my knees.
Now I must
point out that I’ve never been big on sex out in the open, especially in urban
areas. Parks, beaches, out in nature somewhere…. That I get. But I the middle
of Manhattan with lots of people passing by…. Not knowing if someone may just
“join in” uninvited…. Just not my thing.
“Suck it”,
he whispered in my ear.
“You know
what”, I said, breaking away from his firm manly hand, “I’m not really that
comfortable doing this right here with you. But I live right in this building
here. Why don’t you come upstairs where we can get comfortable?”
“Really?”
“Yes, sure,
come on.” And I walked him over to our elevator door, unlocked it and motioned
for him to join me.
“You sure
this is okay?”
“It’s okay
with me? Nothing to worry about… See… I’ve got the keys!!”
So Mr.
Marlboro followed me upstairs and into my small sparse room, expressing
trepidation along the way, me restating that everything was fine, I lived here,
not to worry, etc.
He didn’t
seem very interested in kissing, but I did get him to take off his shirt so I
could enjoy its hairy firmness with my hands and tongue. I finally got on my
knees and he did get the blowjob he had requested. I was practically naked and
jerking myself off wildly while I sucked him off until he came. I held his cock
in my mouth, savoring his semen, while I blew my load all over myself.
I released
his cock from my mouth and looked up into his soft brown eye.
“You enjoyed
that didn’t you?” he asked.
“Sure I did!
Didn’t you??”
“Yeah. That
was pretty darn good.” he said as he put his shirt back on.
I remained
on my knees as he finished dressing, adding some of my cum to the taste of his
in my mouth, basking in the glow of my “triumph”. This hot Marlboro man had
wanted to have sex with me!!
“What’s your
name kid?”
The question
surprised me a little bit. He must have had a really good time if he wanted to
know my name!!
“I’m
Jonathan!”
“Well,
Jonathan”, he said, reaching into his pocket for a business card. But it wasn’t
a business card he pulled out. It was a small wallet which he flipped open to
flash his Police ID and badge.
“If you ever
find yourself in any trouble, ask for Detective Bob at the Tenth Precinct.”
And with
that he exited my room, the apartment and my life.
A cop!
I just
sucked off a cop! And not just a cop, a detective!! And he liked it!!
That’s when
I realized how lucky I was! I sucked off a cop… Oh My God! What if I had done
it in the street where he wanted me to? He probably would have booked me!! The
neighborhood was notorious for stings like that. That’s why he was so “worried”
when I took him upstairs.
But he came
upstairs with me and he liked it.
And I will
always remember Detective Bob of the Tenth Precinct, one of my hottest
pick-ups.
©Jonathan Leiter 2016
