Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Awkward Dreams
Title: Boston's Pilgrim Theater
Summary: A completely true recollection of the goings on at a classic
porn theater.
Keywords: MMM+, public, true

   Boston's Pilgrim Theater By Awkward Dreams (a completely true
recollection)

   By the time I was an adult living in Boston (the late 1980's), Boston's
notorious "combat zone" was already on its way out.  Development had pushed
out all but a couple of strip bars and a few peep shows (most showing
movies, and one with live women behind glass).  Sometimes I could find
hookers on Harrison Avenue or on the edge of Bay Village, but most of the
time it was slim pickings.  I visited often for all of these things, but
one of my favorite places to hang out was the Pilgrim Theater.

   The Pilgrim was a large, old theater from the heyday of downtown,
single-screen movie theaters.  By the time I became a patron, it was very
shabby, but you could always sense how it had once been grand.

   The single employee sold tickets from the booth that poked out a bit
into the covered entryway.  Being tucked away from the street a little, I
felt safe from being spotted once I was buying my $5 entry, before passing
through the wood and glass doors.

   The most notable feature of the interior of the theater was how
incredibly dark it was.  If I wanted to find an empty seat, I would have to
wait three or four minutes for my eyes to adjust enough to avoid walking on
top of people.  In the main auditorium, there were no lights at all, save
whatever came from the screen, which was not much.  They showed straight
movies, but the audience was all men, and they came mostly for each other's
company.

   Once my eyes adjusted, sometimes I would take a stroll around to see
what was going on.  The place always seemed to be about ten to twenty
percent full.  Of the men sitting in the interior seats, about a quarter of
them were clearly jerking off, though usually under cover of some piece of
clothing or another.  In the deeper corners, pairs of guys would sometimes
be openly fucking on the seats, or one guy would be on his knees sucking
off another guy standing against the wall.

   A lot of the time, I didn't take a seat at all, but hung out at the rear
of the auditorium.  Behind the last row of seats was a chest-high wall,
with a wide corridor behind it.  A lot of action happened at this wall. 
Being on the young side for the crowd, it was easy for me to get attention.
I often stood with my front right against the wall so that guys wouldn't be
able to reach for my dick, which I didn't want.  I would then unsnap my
pants and undo the zipper halfway, so my pants would be loose and falling
down in the back.

   A guy would come stand near me, and when I didn't move away, he took
this as a signal to move closer and start touching me.  I would reach out
and start stroking his dick through his pants.  When he discovered my
inaccessible dick and my very accessible backside, most times the guy would
move in behind me and grope my butt and rub his dick against me.  Sometimes
he might reach inside my underwear and stick a finger up my ass.  It felt
so dirty to be humped and groped from behind by a strange older man in a
sleazy porn theater.

   When I was ready for more intense action, I might go to the short
section of wall on the far left side of the auditorium, put my back to the
wall, and slide down until I was sitting on the floor.  This also gave a
clear message to any guys who found me that way.  I never had to wait long
before some guy would walk up to me and stick his dick in my mouth.  I
loved this because, with my back against the wall, the obvious action was
for him to fuck my mouth until he came.  I didn't have to do anything but
swallow.

   I also liked to sit in what I called the "hot seat".  This was the seat
on the aisle in that last row before the wall.  Whenever a guy stood at
that corner of the wall, I would turn my head and open my mouth, looking up
at him.  Eventually, if he noticed me, he might walk around the corner and
pop his cock into my mouth.  It was a great spot for him to grab my head
and fuck my mouth while feeling some sense of privacy from the wall.  In
those days, mouth fucking was not really a thing like it is today, so this
was just quiet, gentle sliding of his dick in an out of my mouth until I
felt the warm squirts of cum that I swallowed before he pulled out, zipped
up, and walked away without a word.

   Sometimes I did sit in the interior seats, finding an older man to jerk
off or suck.  One time I saw a man violently face fucking another man right
out in the open in the first row before the wide aisle in the middle of the
theater.  The guy getting his face fucked left, and the violent man sat
there with his hard dick out, apparently ready for more.  It was the first
time I had seen such an act, and I was thrilled to give it a try.  I sat
next to him and he didn't say a word.  I wasn't sure what to do, so I just
took a chance and lowered my face to his crotch.  He accepted my mouth
around his dick and right away put both of his hands on top of my head.  He
pushed my head down hard and started thrusting up into my mouth very
rapidly, nonstop.  I couldn't believe how surprising and rough it was to
have his sizeable dick jammed all the way into my throat like that.  I only
lasted half a minute before I felt compelled to escape, and I left him
unsatisfied.  However, I still think about that act, and it sparked a
lifelong interest in getting face fucked.  I wish I could meet that man
again to show him all the things I've learned about how to take a dick down
my throat.

   A couple of times, female or shemale hookers would enter the auditorium
and strut around in their clacking high heels, looking for business.  This
was always a very exciting event for me, awakening my exhibitionistic
tendencies.  It's the only place I've ever been where openly stroking my
dick in front of a woman as she walked by was totally reasonable and
unremarkable.  One time I got a woman with nice soft tits to jerk and suck
me for $20 in the seats.  I think she had a dick too, but she wouldn't let
me between her legs to find out.  Another time, a Chinese woman let me
stand next to her at the wall, and didn't object when I started feeling up
her backside.  She continued to say nothing as I tried to reach into her
skirt but was thwarted by some sort of wrapping.  Finally I guided her hand
to stroke me off, and I came in a puddle at her feet.  Finally she found
the only two words of English she appeared to know: "make money".  Since I
had just cum and didn't know how to negotiate with her in the
circumstances, I ended up just walking away.  I guess that's why hookers
learn to get paid in advance.

   If the auditorium wasn't wild enough, I could always venture into the
scariest part of this scary building--the bathroom.  Down some once-fancy
stairs, the cavernous men's room was the only place that had any lights. 
The decor was post-apocalyptic, and the main area had four or five stalls
with no doors whatsoever, right across from four or five urinals.

   For some reason, the denizens of this bathroom were always cautious, as
if this was a regular bathroom that civilians might enter or security
guards might patrol.  I guess some authority came in a few times, but for
the most part, it was just us sex addicts.

   I always sat in a stall.  I stroked myself slowly if I had to wait for
someone else to come in.  When anyone approached, I would keep my hand over
my dick so they would not be tempted to come suck me.  To make my
intentions perfectly clear, I usually leaned my face forward and opened my
mouth wide.  The guy would usually stop at one of the urinals first and
pretend to pee, but once he saw me, he usually walked right into my stall
and didn't stop until his dick was buried in my mouth.

   I swallowed a lot of cum in that bathroom.  Best of all was when I had
an audience and a line of guys waiting to get off in my mouth.  Every time
I sucked a guy in those stalls, I would ask him if he wanted me to lick his
asshole.  They pretty much always said yes, or just turned around and bent
over.  This was the epitome of sexy degradation for me: licking a
stranger's asshole in a bathroom so dirty and sketchy that most people I
know would rather shit their pants than enter it.

   This was the allure of the Pilgrim Theater; it was so perverted and
sexy, so dark and cozy, so cheap and busy that we could always count on it
to provide the perfect escape from the cold, stuffy, real world.