Arcade

My dream –

Now personally confirmed following several visits, AOB far exceeds expectations in providing an invaluable service to the adult community, in an ideal environment for the fulfilment of the sensual and erotic needs of that community. The theatres, straight and gay, and the arcade, encourage sexual liaison as is individually desired. The booths of the arcade are spacious, comfortable, and technologically equipped to render the greatest possible enjoyment in that setting. The booths to the right of the arcade entrance, except for the one at the end, have two gloryholes; the ones to the left, only one. The holes are generously large, permitting observation, verbal interplay, and the consummation of sexual reciprocity. For some, the holes may be just a bit too low; but the modicum of accommodation required to avail of such reward seems a concession wholly worthwhile.

The doors to the booths do not lock; so sharing is not only possible, but welcomed. Remember that in order for this tremendous resource to continue in operation, it must thrive. If you are in a booth in the arcade, do not forget to feed the video screen. The cost is fair. For about $30 for a two-hour session – my cost, averaged out over a number of such sessions – it was the best and least expensive entertainment I could imagine. The other option, the theatre, provides less variety, but still inspires. Payment there is by the day. For those who enjoy more public exhibition, the theatre is ideal. Having experienced both, my preference is for the arcade. Between the theatres and the arcade, videos, ‘toys’, and other related necessities are sold. The staff is friendly – as friendly as one’s regular barista, suggesting that the time spent in this adult environment is no less beneficial than one’s daily cup of coffee.

I worked at a porn shop. I used to work across the street at a high-rise, high-end residence tower as a concierge, but one night when I was doing my rounds, I saw someone at the back of the shop dumping something into their dumpster; so I crossed the street, started a conversation, and one thing led to another, all sexual. Then I got hired.

The porn shop had been there a long time. It was a good shop, well managed, and well stocked. Its most major flaw was that all the men who worked there were straight, very straight. Two of them even shot porn with their girlfriends. As it was so straight, the gay stuff was not taken seriously. I changed all that. For one thing, first things first, I made myself available to any and all deviations from their heterosexuality. Next, daringly, I brought bareback, back, to both movies and mags. My sections of responsibility were toys, pumps, lubes, and the arcade at the back of the store.

When I arrived on the scene, the arcade was not a money maker. It was too constricted, too straight, too unaccommodating to gays and faggots. We all got a piece of the action at the shop, splitting profits between us. All of the others were willing to allow my plans to change the back arcade to make it more profitable.

Guys will always find ways to suck and to fuck each other. When I first started going regularly to the back, I would see guys sucking cocks below the partitions between the booths. Immediately, I suggested that they get in the same booth together, and do it properly. They said that they thought that that was forbidden. I told them that the rules had changed.

Within days, I had large oblong gloryholes cut into both walls of every booth except the end ones. Anonymous gloryhole sex has always had an allure for me, as for every woman and man, truth be told.  I wanted our gloryholes to be big enough for both cocks and balls, big enough to fuck through comfortably. I took down all signs limiting booth use to only one occupant. When I was in the arcade – every chance I got – I suggested to all, open, uninhibited use of the gloryholes, encouraging the sharing of booths for sucking and fucking, two or three or more to a booth.

I changed up the porn, too. I re-calibrated the video machines, shortening the duration of a dollar’s worth of viewing, encouraging the use of fives and tens, instead. With this increase, I greatly improved the porn. Eighty percent of it was hardcore bareback gay porn. The rest of it was transgender, lesbian, and kinky straight. As long as the men were paying to view porn while they were inside the booths, I was happy. I was lenient, too, if their sucking and fucking distracted them for a while, as long as they cooperated in general, in spirit.

Word got around. Profits from the arcade tripled, then tripled again. The arcade became a major money earner for the shop. To further promote it, I did not hesitate to participate when I was back there. The shop still remained predominantly straight, but the arcade became a haven for gays and faggots.

I did not make condoms readily available for free, because I believe that all sex should be condom-free. If I found condoms in the waste bins in the booths, I felt it a shame that cum was wasted. I loved cleaning the arcade at the end of night. The pools of cum below the monitors, the cum on the monitors themselves, all of it was a turn-on for me. If the cum was still moist, I would rub my fingers through it. I never used toxic cleaners or antiseptics in the arcade. I would just wipe things down with warm water. The place was clean enough to eat off of all of the surfaces, except for all the strange cum, which I consider clean as well. Peeing in the waste bins was also no longer discouraged as filthy. An arcade should smell like cum and pee.  

With the help of the arcade, the owner of the shop made enough money to sell it and move to the Virgin Islands. It is difficult for some to put porn seller on their résumés. I am not among them. The job I had after that one was funeral director. That is a different story, though. The deceased were safe with me, to be sure, but the grieving…sometimes they required special consolation.