Straight Irishman's Request.

It was my turn to work night-shifts and despite the office being a twenty minute walk away - I was flustered by running late.  And now I’m held up waiting for the pedestrian lights to go green. I checked out the street traffic while I calmed myself. A group of lively revelers to my left, a drag queen without her wig legging it to host a quiz night down the street, drunk hens; normal folks for the neighborhood.  The lights were taking a long time to change.  Eye contact, a smile, a glance in another direction.

The guy I smiled at in the group walked straight over to me.  Crap, here we go, was I going to be mugged.  He stood so close to be almost touching and now I could see how well built he was.  Handsome too, sexy neck and I noticed he had beautiful hands, his body gave off heat I could feel.  It’s Christmas Eve. The sky darkened as the fruit bats relocated en mass for the night, he leaned right into me.  Summer here is sultry, the humidity brings jasmine and honeysuckle to the nose, and right here there’s a mix of perfume, aftershave, alcohol and sweat.

"How’s it going?" he asked.

Ah ha … Irish and a fair reason for being plucky, confident, well spoken.  People are full of festive spirit, literally they are full to the gills with Christmas booze or cheap cocktails from bars nearby.  Hello’s and various season's greetings were exchanged just as all the traffic lights started to flash orange.  Police arrived and started directing traffic. How late will I be now. We were signaled to cross by the police officer and even before we reached the other side, his bumping into me became constant body contact.

He and his friends had taken ecstasy.  He told me he was “peaking”, feeling really horny and was straight.  Lucky him I thought, they’re a lively bunch sure to have a fun tonight.  In a minute it’ll be goodbye, turn right and head for the office.  I felt left out, just generally but mainly for having to work over Christmas.  I felt his lips almost on my ear, I certainly felt his hot breath.  "I’d like to try sucking cock" he whispered.  "I’d like to try sucking your cock" he said looking into my eyes.  What the fuck I thought, so this does happen!

I did a quick assessment; shortest route to the office post blow job, minimize lateness, avoid angry colleague waiting to finish. Yes, I was already running late for work but this would be a good deed for a foreign visitor.  He wasn’t off his head, or drunk and he said he wanted to do this, so, trying to stay calm, agreed.  I may have seemed casual but inside I was screaming yes, yes lets go!  I told him I’d liked to have hung a bit had time allowed.  Cock-sucking is a skill and like playing a musical instrument you get better with practice, with repetition.  Rather than the extended version I felt his curiousness deserved, this has to be an old fashioned quickie, a blow job, BJ, blowie, blow ’n go.

I took him to a lane-way, obscured by a couple of garbage dumpsters. I pulled my cock out for him to suck however he wanted, no demands.  The peaking, horny Irishman was free to explore. He’d slipped his cock out of his jeans and I saw how he was squeezing it and feeling its length. Quite erotic but apparent he’d never had a cock in his mouth before and hadn't picked up tips from his girlfriends. He demonstrated his enthusiasm but also needed practice. I offered a quick tutorial with a practical demonstration which he really enjoyed.

He’d taken in my lesson, quickly up-skilling to give my now throbbing, fit to burst cock a really hot time.  And then … I went to work.