Darkroom characters: The stalker

Our author Torsten Nobir spends a lot of time in Berlin's darkrooms. In doing so, he has noticed: There are characters with recurring patterns of behaviour. This time he writes about the hanger-on, who can be found in many darkrooms.

After a late, humid evening with friends, you urgently need a cock in the middle of the night. Who hasn't experienced it? The good-night penis, which is essential for a good night's sleep despite or because of being drunk.

At first you might think that the darkroom has plenty of such penises, overflowing with juicy cocks just waiting to be milked. You can already feel the warm juice flowing down your throat in the taxi on the way to the maze, your favourite fuck shed, while countless cocks are rubbing themselves through your face, lurching along your shoulders and splashing across your face unexpectedly. One of them pisses over your back without warning, its jet triggering an epicentre of warmth between your shoulder blades and flowing down into a yellow stream between your buttocks, which are spread wide open as you suck.

Arriving in the darkroom, or rather staggering into the maze, past the bar figures who disregard you if they look horny and leer at you if they don't like you, down the multiple mirrored stairs to hell, your step twitching in anticipation, slightly sweaty from the pre-juice that smears from the front and back in equal measure, you finally stagger into the dark labyrinth.

They are all there, the characters of the dark back rooms and cellars: your Gaydar will also help you in this lightless mess. This time it's the reflective echoes of penises ready to blow that your reliable localisation system is supposed to detect. Next to the cubicle, in which the vortex of a sling trailer beams towards you like a chicken in a roaster, all limbs stretched out, and next to the couch on which someone is pretending to sleep on their stomach, with their bum stretched up in the air, is the entrance to a slightly larger room, in which several men are standing against the wall and occasionally in the centre. One of them is kneeling in the centre, ready to be inseminated.

You smell him immediately. Standing firm, with his hands behind his back and facing the wall, he lets his fat thing protrude into the room. His trouser fly is open just enough to give the bag, which is all the more bulging as a result, a soft support on which the stand can comfortably rise up. You've missed the steps to get there, that you moved at all, and already your lips are wrapped around his cock; you let your tongue glide back and forth along it. It's not an XXL piece, but it's still a good size - all the way in and hitting the back of your throat, you're in a sucking frenzy.

From the side, your closed eye feels a pre-cum-soaked blow job knocking. Your mouth briefly surrounds it and moistens it, then you wank a little, but for now your attention is focussed on your first cock. You blow and blow - and blow. His jaw must be hung out like an anaconda's by now or somehow anaesthetised from overuse. Every now and then you jerk him off, looking up into his expressionless face; his moans resemble the flavoured gasps from bad porn productions, which indicate anything but deliberate and shared sex.

Wait a minute! You recognise it, you've sucked it many times before, albeit in a different version. It's the stallion. He is silent. Most of the time. Mechanical moaning noises escape him here and there. The "suck it" in between barely stands out. Just as extensive as his noise variations are, so mechanically does he thrust his cock into your mouth, affectionately known as your "mouth cunt". It feels like hours pass as your lower jaw seems to get heavier and heavier. Some of his robotic noises sound like the climactic swelling of his voice and the increased frequency of his breathing and it's... not that far.

The hanger-on is characterised by the fact that he never climaxes, he appears in the darkroom at around 8 pm, i.e. as soon as it opens, and holds his permanent sausage in the air until the bitter end without ever coming. It can be assumed that he does not have to urinate during this time either. What does the stallholder want? Torture the suckers, bind them to himself and then move on to the next cock-hungry slut who will be sucking away for just as long as the one before without ever having the much longed-for and well-sucked secretion in her mouth?

But you have to give the hanger one thing. If you recognise him early on, you can warm up to him. After all, you get yourself going and, above all, you show everyone around you: I like to suck. So he just holds out, for you, for me, for everyone - a truly solidary darkroom character.