Snap Judgement: An Erotic Story

Sex outside the bedroom always sounds great for roughly three seconds. That’s about how long it takes me to remember that I don’t like being outside, don’t feel like being uncomfortable, and could accomplish many of the same goals from the convenience of my home. For my thrill seeking submissive boyfriend, there’s almost nothing more exciting than being blessed with a couple gooey loads literally anywhere outside the comfort of his own home. Hence why I now have a story about doing just that to him in a public bathroom, church storm shelter, the front seat of his 2002 ford Taurus and, most daringly, a photo boot with no doors and easily within sight of the arcade’s management.

While it’s only hot to think about fucking around in public places for a moment, if I’m horny, I’d bust it open over the counter at Starbucks. So, catch me in that moment and it’d probably be me pulling him into a corner. On the day of the photobooth incident, I’m in a mood. Aggressive, possessive, sweet, focused, and ready to knock the walls out of anything that moved. Since I can’t go about clubbing boys across the head to take them back to the cave, my eyes stay affixed to the boy who belongs to me. My sweetie, who loves when I use him.

We’re out and about, having fun. Walking around downtown, grabbing coffee and finally wrapping things up at Pinball Pete’s Arcade. We play pool, some unnamed zombie shooter, Deal or No Deal, and Addams Family pinball. In between machines, I grab a handful of his cute little booty and feel his hairy twat radiate heat through his jeans. I love it.

As the minutes roll past and the rush of blood to my inescapably hard dick continues. I can feel the impulse to break his back pulling me towards doing something unusual for me and thrilling for both of us. To gain my composure, we take refuge in some stealth fighter simulation cockpit. The multicolored LED light flying around the arcade is filtered through the red plastic that surrounds us and we feel alone.

Privacy is his cue to aggravate the situation. Being a hungry little bottom, it’s a few seconds of stillness before he takes a seat on his Mister’s lap. The heat from his cunt alone is magnetic to me, his little shimmy was totally unnecessary, but it works.

At this point, I’m essentially contractually obligated to move my hand from its position at the small of his back down a few inches – past the band of his leather jockstrap and deep into my playground. He’s usually wet but with all the cum I’d pumped into him earlier in the day, he’s leaking.

I’m lost, my head is swimming in the wetness and my balls ache as they tighten up towards my body to help make my next deposit. It won’t take long, I have got to get this get out me and into him. Unfortunately, this fighter jet doesn’t really have room to do much moving of linebacker frame. My boy, who’s considerably smaller, barely has room to melt around my thick fingers massaging his hole.

Although, I’d said no to the idea earlier, I pushed that little fucker across the floor and into the roomier photo booth without ever pulling my digits out. I three-finger steer him into place, the entirety of his body under my control. I pull closed the single half curtain to maintain some level decency and quickly slip my dick through my zipper and the easy access hole my slutty pup has worn into to the ass of his jeans.

Without any thought, my one hand slips a dollar in the slot and the other grabs his waist to pull him closer.

“Pick a border” the machine says. I slap my free hand against the screen.

“Choose your number of prints,” I slap again.

His hips rock just right.

“Say cheese!” The 10 second count down begins, the selfie light comes to life, and the camera opens up on the screen.

Ever camera ready, I look at my sex intoxicated, smiling face. Bubby, on the other hand, is a quivering mess – the little bit of spittle on his lower lip really sells it.

Flash.

“Fuck,” I coo into his ear.

Flash.

He whimpers.

Flash.

I gasp and begin to leak.

Flash.

He adjusts for leverage.

Flash.

Release.

“Are you satisfied with your photos?”

I look up at the screen and see 5 shots of bliss. I slap my hand against the screen one more time - ignoring the rest of the instructions. My head falls against his back and my hand reaches forward to caress his belly.

“Thank you, Mister,” he whispers.

The photos drop. The haze lifts. We dismount and make our way out.

When we get home, I put the photos in the rim of our bathroom mirror and fucked him again over the sink.