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Subject: One Thousand Men 17 This is the fictional memoir of a gay man, told in the first person. The memoir began with the series C'est La Vie!, which covers the years 1970-1997. This series covers the year the narrator turns 40, 1998, and launches an ambitious project to have sex with 1000 men that year. Some of the stories in this series are based on actual experiences, usually embellished a lot, as well as completely fictional ones. They depict sex between consenting adult males. If this offends you, do not read them. These are my stories. Please respect the copyright. If you enjoy them, let me know at ail. Please Contribute fty and keep this wonderful resource going! The last chapter described the start of my car trip west, stopping at Flex baths in Cleveland where I was able to add 20 men to my project total, before leaving later in the evening and heading west to find a motel. 1000 Men: 1998 MOTEL ACTION I fell asleep quickly after my long day of driving and encounters at Flex. I slept soundly until about eight in the morning, when I woke, took a piss, brushed my teeth and hopped in the shower. I planned to spend the evening at the Steamworks in Chicago, and it was not a long day's drive there, so I could afford to dawdle a bit in the morning before heading out on the road again. Out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my waist, dried my hair, and headed into my room again to watch a little TV news before going out for breakfast and heading west again. I opened the curtains to reveal a bright, sunny day. I decided to leave them open. I wasn't shockingly undressed--actually a lot more of me was covered than when I wear a swimsuit--so I didn't think there would be any problem with the motel management. I stood my pillows up against the headboard, and lay propped, half-sitting, against them, watching the morning news. I had been watching perhaps ten minutes, when a man walked past my window. I could just sense him out of the corner of my eye, but I noticed he slowed a little as he walked past. My gaydar said to me *quot;Hmmmm, interesting. I wonder what will happen?*quot; About a minute later, there he was again, this time walking more slowly. I looked at him, and held his gaze for a split second before going back to my show. What I saw was pretty hot. He was in his 30s, probably not over thirty-five, well-muscled with a tight T-shirt on, with a crew-cut and strong, chiseled facial features. I was definitely interested, but on this second round I didn't want to seem too anxious to connect, rather to play just a tad hard-to-get. I knew he would be back. I got out of bed and went to stand closer to the window, so he could get a good view when he came back. Sure enough, kurtköy escort less than thirty seconds later, he appeared, this time walking more slowly. I could see the telltale outlines of an erection rising to one side of the zipper in his jeans. When he saw me standing there, just a few feet away on the other side of the glass, he stopped, and this time our eyes locked. I smiled and let my hand move to my chest, then slowly down over my tight washboard abs and over my towel until I grabbed my cock and balls provocatively through the white terry towel. He smiled and licked his lips, and stroked his erection through his jeans so that I could clearly see its outline. He smiled and I knew I had him. I moved to the door and opened it a little, and he came over. *quot;Want to come in?*quot; I asked. *quot;Uh-huh,*quot; he replied and stepped inside. I moved to the window to close the curtains, then opened the door to put out the Do Not Disturb sign, closed it, threw over the security latch, and turned to him. *quot;I want to see what's under that shirt,*quot; I told him, and as he pulled it off over his head, I let my knuckles lightly brush up from his waist to his hard pecs. He was moderately hairy, and it looked really fine on his hard, muscular body. *quot;I like guys that take care of themselves,*quot; I said to him, smiling. *quot;Me too,*quot; he replied moving his hands over my chest and pulling my face to his to kiss. We kissed hungrily, my cock rising in my towel as our bodies moved together and I ran my hands over his muscular shoulders and back. As we embraced, he moved me backward to the bed and gave me a little shove until I fell backward on the bed. As I did, he grabbed at my towel and pulled it off, throwing it aside. He quickly knelt in front of me and just as quickly plunged his hungry mouth over my cock, taking me all the way into his throat. He sucked me hungrily, desperately, with lots of saliva, that I felt dripping down my balls and thighs. As he did, his hands went to his jeans, undid his belt, the top button, and his zipper, then pushed them down along with his briefs, freeing his hard cock from imprisonment. His cock was cut, of average size, but very nicely shaped. As he hungrily sucked my cock, he eagerly stroked his own erection, moaning both from the sucking and the feelings of jerking off. A couple of minutes later, he stood up to kick off his shoes and remove his jeans entirely, and I took the opportunity to slip my towel underneath to catch the spit and whatever else might happen. He kissed me again, then pushed me back down and resumed his blow job. It felt good, even if he was moving a bit faster than I wanted to. I knew how urgent he felt. *quot;Been a while?*quot; I asked. He paused aydıntepe escort and said *quot;Nothing for four long days.*quot; I realized that, like me, he needed almost daily sex to feel normal. Some guys are like that, and some can go days or even weeks without it. He was one horny son-of-a-bitch. He sucked me for another five or six minutes, while he stroked himself and then stopped several times. I guessed that he was close to cumming and wanted it to last longer. Finally, he got up and pulled me to my feet, putting his arms around me and pulling me into another kiss. My hands explored his back, and moved down to his tight, muscular buns. I was convinced that that was where he was going to get most of his pleasure, and so I moved my hand down in his crack until my finger found his hole. I started to massage it, and knew I had found the key. His moans became much louder, and he said, *quot;I need to be fucked real bad,*quot; and so-saying, pushed me out of the way, spread the towel over the edge of the bed, and leaned down with his shoulders and chest on the bed, and his ass high in the air as he was standing next to the bed. He spread his legs, and looked over his shoulder expectantly. I went to my bag and retrieved a condom and lube, plus some poppers, in case my friend wanted some. I pulled on the condom, squirted some lube in his crack and rubbed it down to his hole, which I massaged and then entered with one and two fingers, getting him ready and making him beg for my cock. *quot;Oh, man, I can't wait. Put it in and fuck me, man,*quot; he said. *quot;You're really hot for cock, aren't you?*quot; I joked to him. *quot;Maybe I should make you wait just a little longer?*quot; *quot;Oh, man, don't torture me, I'm desperate!*quot; he said. So I moved up behind him and got my cock positioned at his tight puckered hole. I started slowly entering him, but he couldn't stand the slowness and quickly pushed his ass back at me until I was all the way inside. He grabbed the bottle of poppers, unscrewed the top and took a long hard pull with each nostril. I decided not to partake this morning since I had done poppers last night. I can't really say who did the fucking. His ass was so hungry for cock that he literally pushed himself up and down on my cock. I was moving, but he was doing most of the work. He was really pounding himself on my cock, grunting and moaning loudly. I was worried that the sound would carry to the adjacent rooms, but then remembered that I had heard them leave earlier in the morning. As we fucked, I reached around to his chest and worked his nipples hard. He balanced on one arm and his other hand sought his own cock and stroked it in time. *quot;Can you cum without touching yourself?*quot; I asked tuzla içmeler escort him. *quot;Yeah, sure,*quot; was the reply and he removed his hand. A few more pounding thrusts of his ass into my pelvis, and he started shooting all over the towel on the bed, his ass clenching around my cock. He ass felt really good, but I was not ready to cum again after last night, so I just enjoyed the feeling of a warm, muscular asshole around my cock, and the masculine, muscled body that was now turning to jelly. When he was done, he collapsed on the bed, pulling me down with him, my cock still inside. We lay there for a while, me nuzzling his neck, him panting and trying to catch his breath. *quot;Oh, man, I really needed that. Now I can get the day started. I was so horny, I couldn't stand it. Thanks, man.*quot; *quot;No problem*quot;, I said. *quot;I need to get going too.*quot; We parted, I got a damp washcloth from the bathroom to clean up with, and as we got dressed, in response to his questions, I told him about my trip, and my quest for 1000 men in 1998. It turned out he was a trucker, and had his big rig parked out back. We decided to head over to the diner next door and get a bite of breakfast. When we went in the restaurant, I suggested a booth down at the end away from the other customers. I wanted to ask him about the world of truck stop and rest stop sex. I wanted to know the rules and the *quot;codes*quot;, and where some of the better sites were on my route. Even though his truck had a sleeper cab, every so often he stayed in a motel so that he could have the luxury of a real bathroom, and cable TV, thus my luck in meeting him. During breakfast, I learned all sorts of things that I would put into practice later after I headed west from Chicago. He told me some of the signals that I could use at rest stops and truck stops to attract men who were of the same mind. He even told me some code words to use on a CB radio, though I doubted that I would buy one. And he gave me a list of particularly cruisy rest stops and truck stops all the way to San Francisco. It seems that he had hooked up at every one of them at one time or another. I had thought to bring my diary into the diner with me, and I eagerly wrote it all down. Our breakfasts arrived and we ate fairly quickly. He was late getting on the road, though certainly not regretful that he had taken the time to start the day *quot;right*quot;. When he left, I was still working on a third cup of coffee. I had forgotten to ask his name. Oh, well, maybe I would run into him again along the road, and if not, I would have the memory of this morning. So I smiled to myself, and congratulated myself that I had had the presence of mind to ask him about sex on the road. I headed back to my room to get my things and head out to Chicago. I figured that if I got there early enough, I would have time to check in at the Art Institute of Chicago to visit some paintings that I had not seen in a while. Then off to Boy's Town for some fun!