True Tale Share #2 Handjob where I'm assuming you'd least expect to get a handjob | 2016

This adventure is with Cire...the guy from True Tale Share #1.

Cire and I start our quite normal evening off in the East Bay (SF Bay Area) having dinner at a lovely restaurant. An ordinary plain Jane sort of night. We had season passes and planned to head into the city (San Francisco) for a show. Drinks at this venue were ridiculously high; $15 for a Sapphire martini...that's just gin in a tiny martini glass. I suggested we stop at a bar on the was and grab a drink and do a little dancing.

If you recall from TTS#1 Cire is a straight-laced kind of guy. His sexual experience was rather sheltered and mundane before meeting me. Needless to say, I didn't take him any old bar.

My bar of choice was selected for convenience, potential titillation, entertainment by means of dancing/show, likelihood of other patrons, and shock value; well, shock value for Cire. We stopped at Studs in SF; this is a gay bar...a male gay bar. Cire is a good looking guy. At times, given his emotions, his cheeks flush a vivid and highly noticeable red. I suspected the men there would love Cire; and for me a gay bar is the best place to dance!

Cire had quite the time being hit on--fielding balls left, right, front, and back--figuratively and literally. Later he shared he thought he could understand how woman feel getting picked up/flirted with. We danced and for about an hour he was repeatedly grinded upon on the dance floor, and not necessarily by me. He was bought a drink or three from admirers; I had to drive us to our next venue.

During our car ride Cire was flushed, embarrassed, but clearly enjoying himself. Should I mention, Cire was a straight guy and up until a few weeks prior to this night his ass had never been touched. I opened him up to anal beads in combination with a blow job; the key is slow removal upon climax. He enjoyed the experience so much he was using the anal beads himself while jacking off!

Even though Cire was straight the attention was a turn on. I would imagine, knowing how much he enjoyed the anal beads, his mind drifted to thoughts of being penetrated by a real man. How could his mind not drift there when he admittedly told me he felt men press their hard clocks against his ass on the dance floor.

Parking is a bitch in the city and worse because I hate paying, even if Cire's the one doing the paying; so I drive about looking for street parking. We got lucky and I found rock star parking half a block from the Symphony Hall.

Since we'll be here for the next couple hours I opt for a second gin martini; Cire has could be his fourth or fifth of the night. He has a happy buzz going no doubt. We drink our cocktails and people watch, comparing the two vastly different compositions of patrons between Studs and the San Francisco Symphony Hall.

We get to our seats with some time to spare. With several martinis and still flush from Studs, Cire removes his sport coat. Since many other symphony attendees were still in the bar/lobby region, and most of the seats around us were empty, I initiate a little touchy feely kissy kissy. Cire's engine was clearly primed as he was quick to arouse and not as concerned with our surroundings. He did drape his sport coat across his lap; his slacks couldn't hide his raging erection. Cire didn't realize what a draped coat to me meant...a little naughty fun of pushing boundaries!

After the lights were dimmed and everyone was seated I rolled it into high gear. I had to act quick and sly enough to not give Cire any clue of where I was heading, yet slow enough as to not catch the attention of our neighbors. Under his coat I coyly fondled him through his slacks. Eventually, I had the head of his cock cresting over his slacks' waistline. I warmed and wetted my hand in order to work the tip. I whispered I was going to just undo the belt and button. Before he knew what was truly up, I'd adeptly maneuvered his cock out of his slacks and boxers. He had a naked, hard, free cockstand hiding under his jacket that I'm stroking base to tip. His pre-cum making it just slick enough and increasing his pleasure that he's not surev what to do. I of course tell him to cum k please fun for me baby, right here, right now, cum hard, enjoy the crescendo if the music and release your passion. He did...and if one person were to see his face they'd surely know or at least highly suspect, especially if they could see my hand in his lap hidden by a jacket.

Handjob at the SF Symphony.

Thank you Studs!

Where's the most unusual place you've received/given a handjob?