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Like it doesn’t come close! Moment top starts eating my hole I’m on heat knowing im in for memorable fuck. It’s a sign this guy really loves Manhole 😈

Not at all versatile. I put up with it annually on my other half's birthday - he thought I had a great ass, but his taste (meaning me) was highly questionable in the first place. 😇

Whatever the number so far all I know is I want to get more. You bet I’ll keep trying

I like average as well. But would love to take 11" past my second ring. As long as it's not thick.

Relate so much to the feeling of heightened need days after playing, and woof nothing hotter than the urgency of fucking cloths still on 😈🐽🔥

I love an average king. 6" or so to suck and or bottom for is all I ever want. Guys in the 4 to 6" range are often shy and super horny when I mess around with them. Many seem to have this perceived notion (trauma) that everyone wants a HUNG dude. NOT ME!

I love it, makes me even hornier!

You'd be all the Top I'd want and need.

Cum down to join babe!

FUCK MAN! I'd be a lucky bitch if he got you as his Top and Pimp.

Where in LA? I'm in West Hollywood 👀

I came of sexual age in the early 90s and always assumed that being bred by a stranger would be an unattainable fantasy. Whenever a man cums up my ass, I always think about how lucky I am to be able to experience it.

Chapter 26 The drive home from the work site was a blur of asphalt and aching silence. Jordan’s mind, for once, wasn’t on Chad or the lingering echo of their last hotel-room encounter. It was a state away, in his own house, with the two people he’d built a life with. He’d called them last night. No answer. He’d texted this morning. Nothing. A cold, leaden dread had been growing in his gut all day, a stark contrast to the humid summer air flooding through the truck’s open window. Pulling into the driveway, the dread solidified into a hard, icy rock. The driveway was empty. No Jared’s beat-up sedan. No Blake’s sleek motorcycle. No. They’re just out. They’re shopping. They’re getting food. The excuses were weak, pathetic things that dissolved the moment he killed the engine. The silence that greeted him was absolute and profoundly wrong. He pushed open the garage door, the creak of the hinge absurdly loud in the quiet. “Jared? Blake?” His voice bounced off the walls, unanswered. He stepped into the kitchen. Nothing on the counter. No note. The living room was… clean. Too clean. The throw blankets were neatly folded. The video game controllers were lined up with military precision on the media console. Jared never did that. He took the stairs two at a time, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He shoved open the door to their shared bedroom. Empty. The closets were half-empty, hangers dangling askew. The dresser drawers were pulled open, hollowed out. All of Blake’s graphic tees, all of Jared’s flannels and worn jeans—gone. The bathroom was next. His items sat alone on the counter. Their toothbrushes, their products, the special beard oil Chad had given Jared—vanished. They were gone. They had moved out. Together. A wave of vertigo washed over him. He staggered back, leaning against the doorframe for support. Why? What had he done? There were no fights, no jealousy, no slammed doors or bitter words. The last time he’d seen them, they’d been wrapped up in each other on the couch, smiling, telling him about their boring day. It was a lie. It had all been a lie. The panic was a live wire now, sparking under his skin, stealing the air from his lungs. He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the hallway floor, knees pulled to his chest. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. His hands were shaking. Who did he call? His parents? They wouldn’t understand. A friend? He didn’t have any others. They had been his whole world. On pure, desperate instinct, his trembling fingers found his phone. He scrolled past Jared’s name, past Blake’s, and landed on the last person he’d been with. He hit call. Chad answered on the second ring. “Hey, man. You make it back okay?” The sound of his voice, so normal, so grounded, was the final crack in Jordan’s composure. A choked sob escaped him. He couldn’t form words. “Jordan?” Chad’s tone shifted instantly, all casualness evaporating. “Jordan, talk to me. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” “They’re… they’re gone,” he finally managed, the words raw and broken. “Everything’s… empty. They left me.” “Sit tight,” Chad’s voice was firm, a command that cut through the static in Jordan’s head. “Don’t move. I’m on my way.” The line went dead. Jordan let the phone clatter to the floor, burying his face in his hands. The silence of the house pressed in on him, a heavy, suffocating weight. Minutes later, the roar of a familiar truck engine cut through the quiet, followed by the slam of a door. Heavy, urgent footsteps pounded up the front porch steps. The front door swung open. “Jordan?” He heard Chad’s voice echo through the empty downstairs before his bootfalls sounded on the stairs. He appeared at the top, his broad frame filling the hallway. His eyes, dark with concern, found Jordan crumpled on the floor. In two long strides, Chad was there. He didn’t hesitate. He dropped to his knees and gathered Jordan into his arms, pulling him against his chest. Jordan collapsed into him, his body wracked with silent, shuddering sobs he could no longer contain. “Shhh, I’ve got you,” Chad murmured, his voice a low rumble against Jordan’s ear. One large, calloused hand cradled the back of Jordan’s head, fingers tangling in his hair. The other rubbed slow, firm circles on his back. “I’ve got you. Just let it out.” He held Jordan tightly, his embrace an anchor in a suddenly unmoored world. Jordan clung to the rough fabric of Chad’s work shirt, inhaling the familiar scents of diesel, clean sweat, and just Chad. It was the only thing that felt real. Chad held him through the worst of it, until the sobs subsided into shaky, hiccupping breaths. He didn’t say empty platitudes. He didn’t ask stupid questions. He just held him, his own heart hammering a frantic, hopeful rhythm against Jordan’s chest. This is it, Chad thought, his face buried in Jordan’s hair. This is my chance. The thought was immediate, selfish, and utterly overwhelming. For weeks, this man in his arms had been all he could think about. Jordan made him feel safe, seen, and fucking alive in a way he’d never experienced. The sex was earth-shattering, yeah, but it was the quiet moments after, the easy laughter, the shared looks—that’s what had cemented it. He was head over heels, desperately in love, and he’d been trying to find the nerve, the perfect moment to say it. But this… seeing Jordan so completely shattered, so vulnerable… this wasn’t the right time. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t confess his feelings now. It would be taking advantage. So he just held on tighter, pouring every ounce of the love he couldn’t say into that simple, solid embrace. “I don’t understand,” Jordan whispered against his neck, his voice hoarse. “Why would they just go? Without a word?” “I don’t know, man,” Chad said softly, his lips brushing against Jordan’s temple. “But you’re not alone. You hear me? You’re not alone in this.” He leaned back just enough to look at Jordan’s face, his thumb gently wiping a stray tear from his cheek. The proximity was electric. Jordan’s eyes, red-rimmed and lost, searched his. Chad’s gaze dropped to Jordan’s lips for a heartbeat too long, the air between them thickening with something far more complex than comfort. “I’m right here,” Chad breathed, his voice barely a whisper, a pr omise and a question all at once. Chapter 27 The warm, damp spot on Chad’s shirt grew larger as Jordan’s sobs finally began to subside, the raw, wrenching sounds softening into shaky, hitching breaths. He felt hollowed out, scraped clean by the shock and the crying. Chad’s arms never loosened their hold, his hand a steady, comforting pressure on the back of Jordan’s head. Jordan tilted his face up, his vision blurred by remaining tears. Chad’s concerned face was inches from his, his brow furrowed, his own eyes shining with an emotion Jordan was too overwhelmed to name. Without a single conscious thought, driven by a need for comfort that was more primal than any logic, Jordan closed the small distance between them and pressed his lips to Chad’s. It was a messy, salty kiss, wet with tears and the faint, embarrassing smear of snot from Jordan’s nose. He didn’t care. He poured every bit of his confusion, his loss, and his desperate need for connection into it, clinging to Chad like he was the only solid thing in a world that had just collapsed. He kissed him for what felt like an eternity, a silent plea for the ground to stop shifting beneath his feet. When he finally pulled back, gasping for air, his cheeks flushed with a heat that was entirely new, regret instantly flooded him. “Chad, I’m… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… that was…” Chad’s hand, which had stilled on his back, began to move again in slow, calming circles. His voice was low, a soft rumble that vibrated through Jordan’s entire body. “No. Don’t apologize. It’s okay.” He brushed a stray tear from Jordan’s cheek with his thumb, his calloused skin rough yet incredibly gentle. “I was wanting to kiss you, too.” They stayed like that for a long moment, foreheads resting together, their breath mingling. Jordan’s heart was no longer hammering from panic, but from something else entirely, something terrifying and exhilarating. Chad’s eyes, dark and intense, searched his, and Jordan saw the internal battle raging within them. “Jordan…” Chad began, his voice husky. He took a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. “I know… I know this is the worst possible time. The absolute worst. And I’ve been trying to find a better moment for weeks, but… I can’t wait another minute. Seeing you like this… I can’t hold it in.” He leaned back just enough to look Jordan directly in the eye, his gaze unwavering, raw with a vulnerability Jordan had never seen in the rugged man before. “I have been racking my brain every single day since that first time in the hotel,” Chad confessed, the words pouring out in a rushed, earnest torrent. “Thinking about you. About us. About how you make me feel. I was so unsure, man. So fucking confused. I’ve never… felt this for anyone. Not like this.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “But I can’t deny it anymore. I’m not confused. I’m in love with you, Jordan.” The declaration hung in the silent hallway, so immense it seemed to absorb all the sound in the world. Jordan could only stare, his mind struggling to process the words. Chad continued, his voice gaining strength, filled with a wondrous awe as he cataloged his feelings. “I’m in love with your stupid, perfect smile that makes your eyes crinkle. I’m in love with your laugh, the way you throw your head back and just let go. I’m in love with this body,” he said, his hand slipping from Jordan’s back to splay across his chest, feeling the frantic beat of his heart. “The way you move, the strength in you. I’m even in love with your smell—like clean sweat and that cheap shampoo you use and just… you.Everything. I’m just… completely in love with you.” Jordan was speechless. The emptiness left by Jared and Blake’s abandonment was suddenly filled with a roaring, incandescent light. All the clandestine glances at the shipyard, the possessive grabs in the hotel, the tender way Chad had cared for him during sex—it all snapped into a perfect, stunning picture. “But…” Jordan finally managed, his voice a disbelieving whisper. “I thought you were straight?” A slow, genuine smile spread across Chad’s face, softening his sharp features. “Labels are just words, man. They don’t mean a damn thing. I love Jordan. I wouldn’t care if you were a guy, a girl, or a fucking brilliant alien from another planet. I just love you. For you.” It was the sweetest, most overwhelmingly honest thing anyone had ever said to him. The last of the ice around Jordan’s heart shattered. A choked, half-sob, half-laugh escaped him as fresh tears, these born of pure, unadulterated joy, welled in his eyes. “I love you too, Chad,” he breathed, the words feeling more right and true than anything he’d ever uttered. “God, I love you so much.” The relief that washed over Chad’s face was profound. He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for weeks and pulled Jordan into a fierce, crushing hug, burying his face in his neck. They held each other in the quiet hallway, surrounded by the ghosts of a past life, but firmly anchored in the stunning reality of their new beginning. After a long while, Chad shifted. The look in his eyes changed from one of comfort to one of smoldering intent. The hand on Jordan’s chest slid lower, over the tight muscles of his stomach, coming to rest at the waistband of his work pants. The touch was no longer just comforting; it was a question. “They don’t get to take this from us,” Chad murmured, his lips grazing Jordan’s earlobe. “This is ours.” Jordan answered him by capturing his mouth in another kiss, this one deep, hungry, and full of promise. It was a claiming. A consummation of words with action. Chad met his hunger with his own, his tongue sliding against Jordan’s as his fingers worked open the button of his jeans, then the zipper. The rasp of the denim was deafening in the silence. Chad broke the kiss, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down between them. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of Jordan’s pants and underwear and pushed them down in one smooth, determined motion. Jordan kicked them off, his hard cock springing free, already leaking. Chad’s gaze was rapt, worshipful. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, his own hands going to his belt buckle. The clink of the metal, the rough sound of his own zipper coming down, sent shivers of anticipation through Jordan. Chad shoved his heavy work pants and boxer briefs down his muscular thighs, his thick, uncut cock standing proud and full. They stood there for a heartbeat, naked in the hallway, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows around them. The air crackled with a new, profound intimacy. This wasn’t a frantic hookup in a cheap hotel room. This was different. This was theirs. Chad reached out, his hand not going for Jordan’s cock, but instead cupping his jaw, his thumb stroking his cheek. “I want to make love to you,” he said, the words a soft, reverent vow. “Will you let me do that?” Jordan’s answer was to take his hand and lead him, not to the empty bedroom that echoed with loss, but toward his own room down the hall. As they passed the threshold, Chad pulled him close again, his strong arms wrapping around him, their bodies aligning from chest to thigh. The feeling of their cocks pressed together, hard and hot between them, was an electric shock. Chad’s mouth found his again, slower this time, deeper. It was a kiss that spoke of belonging, of a future he’d been too afraid to imagine. His hands roamed Jordan’s back, down to the swell of his ass, pulling their hips even tighter together in a slow, grinding rhythm that made Jordan’s head spin. “My turn to take care of you,” Chad whispered against his lips, his voice thick with emotion and desire. THE END THANKS EVERYONE I HOPE YOU ENJOYED

Chapter 24 The silence in the house was wrong. It wasn’t the comfortable quiet of shared space; it was an empty, echoing void. Jordan dropped his duffel bag by the door, the thud unnaturally loud. “Guys? Jared? Blake?” No answer. A note on the kitchen counter, written in Jared’s sloppy scrawl, explained it: Went to the outlet mall for the weekend. Back Sunday night. Leftovers in the fridge. A weekend. They’d known he was coming home. They’d left anyway. A cold knot tightened in his stomach, something that felt a lot like suspicion. He tried to shake it off. They’re just shopping. It’s fine. He needed a distraction. He booted up his desktop, the familiar hum a small comfort. He’d check his messages, maybe watch some porn, take the edge off the long drive home. As the monitor flickered to life, a single folder sat open on the screen, its contents displayed in a grid of thumbnails. It wasn’t his. The folder was simply labeled “US.” Curiosity, that hungry little beast, nibbled at him. He clicked on the first video. It was Blake’s bedroom. The camera was propped up on a dresser. Jared and Blake were on the bed, not fucking, but… wrestling. It was playful, all laughing protests and tangled limbs. Jared pinned Blake, his body covering the smaller man’s. They were both shirtless, breathing heavily. The laughter died down. Jared’s gaze dropped to Blake’s lips. The air in the room on the screen seemed to change, to thicken. Jared leaned down, so slowly, and pressed his mouth to Blake’s. It wasn't a hookup kiss. It was deep, searching, tender. Jordan’s breath hitched. He clicked another. This one was in their living room, on the couch Jordan usually claimed. Jared was sitting, and Blake was straddling his lap, but they were fully clothed, just holding each other. Blake’s head was tucked under Jared’s chin, his eyes closed. Jared was whispering something, his lips moving against Blake’s hair, his large hand stroking slow, soothing circles on Blake’s back. The look on Jared’s face—it was a look of such profound, peaceful possession that it made Jordan’s chest ache. It was a look Jordan had never seen him give anyone, not even during their most intense threesomes. He opened video after video. They weren’t just sex tapes. They were love letters. There were slow, passionate fuckings where they stared into each other’s eyes the entire time, whispering things the microphone couldn’t pick up. There were moments of pure domestic intimacy—cooking together in just their boxers, sharing a joint on the back patio, Blake tracing the lines of Jared’s tattoos while they watched a movie. The travelling for work… leaving them together so much… It hadn’t brought them all closer. It had split them. It had created a dyad, a unit of two that deliberately excluded the third. And they were hiding it. They hadn’t said a word. A hot, acidic jealousy boiled up in his throat, followed immediately by a cold, numbing sense of loss. He closed the folder. He wouldn’t confront them. Not yet. He just sat there in the darkening room, the ghost of their stolen moments playing on a loop behind his eyes. * The next six weeks on the road were a blur of diesel fumes, hotel rooms, and Chad. The discovery at home became a secret fuel, a dark energy Jordan poured into his… whatever this was with his coworker. The mutual jerk-off sessions in the truck became a daily ritual, a necessary release. Then the kissing started—clumsy at first, then hungry, desperate, all teeth and tongue against the door of another anonymous hotel room. Then came the night Chad, his breath hot against Jordan’s neck, his thick cock pressed insistently against Jordan’s thigh, growled the words. “I wanna fuck you, Jordan. For real. I need to feel what it’s like to be inside you.” The proposition should have been terrifying. But all Jordan felt was a thrilling, dizzying surge of power. Yes. This was what he needed. To be claimed. To be filled. To forget everything else. “Okay,” Jordan breathed, his voice barely a whisper. “Okay. Do it.” They stumbled toward Chad’s bed, a tangle of frantic hands and searching mouths. Clothes were torn away, landing in heap on the cheap carpet. Chad’s hands were everywhere—gripping his ass, palming his chest, cupping his jaw as he plundered his mouth. Jordan let himself be manhandled, his own arousal spiking with every rough, possessive touch. Chad broke the kiss, his dark eyes blazing with a intensity that made Jordan’s knees weak. “Turn over. On your knees.” The command sent a shiver of pure submission through him. He obeyed, scrambling onto the mattress, presenting himself. He heard the rip of a foil packet, the slick sound of lube. His heart hammered against his ribs. This is happening. He’s really going to do it. He felt the blunt, wet head of Chad’s cock press against him. It was so much bigger than a finger, an impossible pressure. He tensed, a involuntary gasp caught in his throat. “Relax for me, man,” Chad murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle despite its rough texture. One of his big, calloused hands stroked down Jordan’s spine, a calming gesture that was at odds with the situation. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.” Jordan forced air into his lungs, willing his body to soften, to accept. He focused on the feeling of Chad’s hand on his back, the solid warmth of his body looming over him. Then Chad pushed. It was a slow, inexorable invasion, a stretch that bordered on pain before it melted into a feeling of being utterly, completely full. A broken moan was torn from Jordan’s throat. “Fuck… Chad…” “Jesus, Jordan,” Chad groaned above him, his voice strained. His hips stilled, buried to the hilt. “You’re so fucking tight. So hot inside.” He leaned over, blanketing Jordan’s body with his own, his chest pressed against Jordan’s back. His beard scraped against Jordan’s shoulder as he spoke. “You like that? I'm so deep in you?” Jordan could only nod, his face pressed into the scratchy hotel pillow. He was overwhelmed by the sensation, by the sheer physicality of it. Every slight shift of Chad’s hips sent sparks shooting through his nerves. Chad began to move, a slow, shallow rocking that gradually built into deeper, more confident thrusts. The initial burn was gone, replaced by a building, coiling pleasure that started deep in his core. Each thrust rubbed his prostate, a direct, electric shock that made his own dick, hard and leaking against his stomach, jump and twitch. Chad’s rhythm was punishing, powerful, each drive of his hips slamming Jordan forward with a grunt. “Yeah, take this dick,” Chad grunted, his hands gripping Jordan’s hips hard, surely leaving bruises. “Take it all. You love this, don’t you? Love getting fucked like this.” “Yes,” Jordan moaned, the word mangled. “Fuuuck, yes…” He was losing himself, his mind going blank white with pleasure. This was nothing like being with Jared and Blake. This was raw, primal, singular. There was no audience, no performance. It was just this: the smell of their sweat, the sound of skin slapping against skin, the brutal, perfect friction of Chad’s thick cock stretching him open. Chad’s pace became frantic, his breathing ragged in Jordan’s ear. “You're gonna make me cum, man. I'm gonna fill you up.” The promise, so filthy and direct, was what sent Jordan spiraling over the edge. His orgasm ripped through him with a silent, violent intensity, his cum striping the bedspread beneath him in hot, pulsing jets. His body clenched tightly around Chad, milking him. With a guttural roar, Chad buried himself as deep as he could go. Jordan felt the hot, throbbing pulse of his release through the latex, a final, claiming heat flooding inside him. Chad collapsed on top of him, his full weight pressing Jordan into the mattress, both of them spent and gasping for air. After a long moment, Chad softened and slipped out. He rolled off, disposing of the condom before lying back down, an arm thrown over his eyes. The silence stretched, thick and heavy. Finally, Chad spoke, his voice rough and low. “That was…” Jordan held his breath. “…fuckin’ insane.” Chad turned his head on the pillow, looking at Jordan with a dazed, sated expression that was entirely new. “We are definitely doing that again.” Jordan looks at Chad with smiling eyes. "You're turn!" Chapter 25 The humid, grimy air of the shipyard clung to them like a second skin. Every clang of metal, every shouted command, was just background noise to the secret dance unfolding between them. Jordan would be tightening a bolt, and he’d glance over to see Chad bent over a crate, his loose work pants offering a deliberate, fleeting glimpse of his heavy balls and soft, thick dick. The sight sent a jolt straight to Jordan’s core, his own cock swelling instantly against the rough denim of his jeans. Chad would catch his look and straighten up, a slow, knowing smirk playing on his lips beneath the shadow of his hard hat. He’d adjust himself with a casual, almost arrogant grab, making the substantial weight of his package unmistakable. No words were needed. The entire day was a silent, sweaty preamble, a steady crescendo of shared, illicit heat that left them both aching and distracted. Back at the hotel, the shower was a necessary purging of the day’s grit, but also an extension of the tease. The water sluiced over Chad’s tattooed shoulders, and Jordan’s eyes traced the paths it took, his soapy hands moving over his own body with a possessiveness he knew Chad was watching. They toweled off in the steamy bathroom, the thick terrycloth doing little to hide their renewed, half-hard interest. Dinner was a blur of shared plates and easy laughter. Chad was in peak form, his jokes coming quick and his smiles directed solely at Jordan. His touches became more frequent—a clap on the shoulder that lingered, a nudge of his knee under the table, a hand on Jordan’s forearm to emphasize a point. Each point of contact was a brand. Jordan sipped his beer, watching Chad’s animated face. This guy says he’s straight, he thought, the familiar internal refrain taking on a new, hopeful edge. But the way he’s looking at me… the way he can’t keep his hands to himself… it feels like more. It feels like he has feelings for me. The idea was terrifying and electrifying. The walk back to their room was charged with a silent, humming anticipation. The second the hotel door clicked shut behind them, the careful pretense of the evening shattered. Chad didn’t say a word. He simply turned, his eyes dark and intense, and pushed Jordan back against the door. His mouth found Jordan’s in a deep, claiming kiss that tasted of beer and want. It wasn't tentative or questioning; it was desperate and sure. Their hands were everywhere, pulling at clothes, fumbling with buttons and zippers. A shirt was ripped over a head. A belt buckle clattered to the floor. “You said,” Chad breathed against his lips, his voice a rough, husky thing that vibrated through Jordan’s entire body. “You said it was my turn.” Jordan could only nod, his breath catching as Chad’s hands shoved his jeans and boxers down his thighs in one urgent motion. “I’m ready, Jordan,” Chad whispered, his forehead pressed to Jordan’s, his eyes squeezed shut as if gathering courage. “Fuck me. I want you inside me.” His hands gripped Jordan’s hips, his fingers pressing into the flesh. “But go slow. I’m tight. I’ve… I’ve never done this before.” The confession, so vulnerable and raw, snapped Jordan into a different headspace. The frantic energy morphed into something focused, tender. He cupped Chad’s face, forcing him to open his eyes. “Look at me. We’ll go as slow as you need. I’ve got you.” He led Chad to the bed, laying him back gently against the pillows. He took his time, worshiping the landscape of Chad’s body with his hands and mouth—the hard planes of his chest, the trail of hair leading down from his navel, the intricate ink on his powerful arms. He wanted Chad boneless and pliant, wanted every ounce of nervous tension replaced with pure, aching need. When he finally reached Chad’s cock, it was a testament to the man’s control. It stood thick and full against his stomach, the head dark and flushed, already glistening. Jordan leaned down, taking him into his mouth, using his tongue to lavish attention on the sensitive slit, savoring the sharp, salty taste of his pre-cum. Chad’s back arched off the bed, a broken groan tearing from his throat. “Fuck… Jordan… yes…” Jordan prepared him with a reverence he usually reserved for his own most private fantasies. He used his fingers, slick with lube from the nightstand, working him open with infinite patience, watching the play of agony and ecstasy on Chad’s face. He scissored him slowly, crooking his fingers, seeking out that bundle of nerves that made Chad’s entire body jolt and his eyes roll back in his head. “Please,” Chad begged, his voice ragged. “Now. I need you now. I’m ready.” Jordan positioned himself, kneeling between Chad’s spread legs. He guided the head of his own hard, leaking cock to Chad’s entrance. The pressure was immense, a tight, hot ring of muscle resisting him. He pushed, just an inch, and watched Chad’s face contort. “Breathe, baby,” Jordan murmured, stroking his thigh. “Just breathe through it.” Chad nodded, his jaw clenched, his eyes locked on Jordan’s. He let out a long, shaky exhale, and his body seemed to open, to yield. Jordan sank deeper, the sensation of being enveloped in such incredible, clenching heat stealing the air from his lungs. He pushed until he was fully sheathed, buried to the hilt, their bodies joined completely. For a moment, neither of them moved. They just stayed there, connected, breathing each other’s air. The only sound was their ragged panting. Chad’s eyes were wide, awestruck. “Oh my god,” he whispered. “You’re… you’re all the way in.” “Yeah,” Jordan breathed, the word a prayer. He leaned down, capturing Chad’s mouth in a slow, deep kiss as he began to move. It was a slow, rolling rhythm, a gentle fucking that was more about connection than conquest. Each withdrawal was a sweet agony, each thrust back in a homecoming. Jordan could feel every shudder, every clench of Chad’s body around him. He watched the emotions flicker across Chad’s face—the initial shock melting into dazed pleasure, then into something deeper, something awed and vulnerable. Chad’s hands came up, tangling in Jordan’s hair, pulling him down for another searing kiss. His legs wrapped around Jordan’s waist, locking him in place, pulling him even deeper. The pace gradually increased, the gentle rolls becoming more urgent, their hips meeting in a slick, rhythmic slap. “Harder,” Chad moaned into his mouth, his voice raw with need. “Please, Jordan… fuck me harder.” Jordan obeyed, driving into him with more force, each thrust punching a gasped “uhn” from Chad’s lips. The bed began to creak in protest. Jordan could feel his own climax coiling, a tight, hot spring in his belly. He reached between them, wrapping his hand around Chad’s leaking cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts. Chad cried out, a strangled, helpless sound. His body seized, clamping down on Jordan’s cock like a vise as his own release shot over Jordan’s fist and his stomach in hot, pulsing streaks. The intense, rhythmic squeezing was Jordan’s undoing. With a guttural groan, he buried himself as deep as he could go, his own orgasm erupting, flooding the condom with wave after wave of intense, shuddering release. He collapsed on top of Chad, spent, his face buried in the sweaty crook of his neck. They lay there for a long time, still joined, their hearts hammering against each other’s ribs, their breath slowly returning to normal. The air was thick with the musky, sweet scent of sex. Jordan finally shifted, softening and slipping out. He disposed of the condom and fell back onto the bed beside Chad. Without a word, Chad turned onto his side and curled into Jordan, throwing a heavy arm across his chest, his head pillowed on Jordan’s shoulder. Their skin was slick with sweat, cooling in the hotel’s AC. No one spoke. There were no jokes, no declarations, no analysis. There was just the sound of their synchronized breathing and the profound, speechless understanding vibrating in the space between them. They fell asleep like that, tangled together, covered in the evidence of what they’d shared. The world outside their door ceased to exist. There was only this.

Chapter 22 The silence was a living thing, thick and heavy with the scent of clean sweat and whiskey. Their eyes were locked, hands moving in a synchronized rhythm over their own cocks, the only sound their ragged breathing and the soft, wet friction of skin on skin. Chad’s gaze was dark, intense, a startling contrast to his earlier flustered embarrassment. He wasn't just watching; he was studying Jordan, his eyes tracing the path of Jordan’s fist, the way his thumb pressed against the swollen head on every upstroke. Jordan broke the stare first, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across his face. He was in his element here, in the razor's edge between command and invitation. He knew what he wanted to see. He pushed himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed until his feet were planted firmly on the cheap hotel carpet. He faced Chad directly, their knees now just inches apart. He was giving Chad a show. He let his head fall back slightly, a quiet, breathy moan escaping his lips as he increased his pace. He focused on the sensation, on making it look as good as it felt. He watched himself through Chad’s eyes—the way his abs tightened with each stroke, the way his heavy balls drew up tight beneath his shaft. He was already leaking, a steady stream of clear precum beading at his slit and dripping down his length. He milked it, slowing his hand to let a fat, glistening pearl form at the tip. He held it there, letting Chad watch it swell, a tiny, trembling universe of his arousal. Then he let it fall, a single, hot drop tracing a path down his veined shaft until it landed on his balls with a soft, almost silent plop. He didn't wipe it away. He left it there, a wet, gleaming testament to how turned on he was. A low, guttural sound came from Chad’s bed. A moan of pure, unadulterated pleasure. Jordan’s eyes snapped up to meet his. Chad’s own hand had stilled, his fingers wrapped loosely around the base of his own impressive, thick cock. He was mesmerized. Then, as if pulled by an invisible string, Chad mirrored him. He sat up on the edge of his own bed, the movement bringing them even closer. Now their knees were touching, a point of electric contact in the dim room. The space between them vanished, their legs a bridge connecting their two worlds. They were two feet apart, maybe less, sitting across from each other, stroking for an audience of one. “Fuck,” Jordan whispered, his voice husky. “Feels so good. I love jerking my dick. Love how my hand fits around it.” Chad’s breath hitched. He gave a slow, jerky nod, his eyes glued to Jordan’s moving hand. “Yeah,” he breathed, the word barely audible. Emboldened, Jordan kept going, the dirty talk flowing easily. “Sometimes… fuck… sometimes I’ll pull it out somewhere I shouldn’t. In my truck in a parking lot. Behind the job site. Just to stroke it a few times. The risk… it makes me so fuckin’ hard.” Chad’s eyes widened, a spark of recognition and shared deviance flashing in them. “Holy shit,” he groaned, his hips giving a slight, involuntary thrust into his own fist. “Me too. Did it just last week behind a Home Depot. Thought for sure someone would see.” Their confessions hung in the air, thickening the tension. Their knees pressed tighter together. Then, almost imperceptibly, they both inched forward on their beds. The space between their cocks narrowed from a foot, to six inches, to nothing. Their thighs were touching now, hot skin against hot skin. Their erections, both slick with precum, were so close Jordan could feel the heat radiating from Chad’s. They both looked up at the exact same time. Their eyes met. The hunger in Chad’s gaze was a physical force. Jordan’s heart was hammering against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat of anticipation. The question was a whisper, torn from somewhere deep inside him. “Can I…?” He let his eyes flick down to Chad’s dick, then back up to hold his gaze. “Can I touch it?” Chad’s response was immediate. A sharp, almost pained inhale, then a quick, desperate nod. His hand fell away from his cock, letting it spring free. It stood at full, aching attention, thick and veined and beautifully hairy, the head flushed a light, pretty pink. Jordan didn’t hesitate. He reached out, his fingers closing around the shaft. Oh, fuck. It was so different from his own. Thicker, a solid, heavy weight in his palm. A prominent vein ran from root to tip, pulsing with Chad’s heartbeat. The skin was like hot velvet over steel. Jordan gave an experimental stroke, a slow, firm glide from base to tip, his thumb brushing over the slick, swollen head. Chad’s reaction was utterly intoxicating. His eyes rolled back slightly, a ragged, broken groan tearing from his throat. His hips bucked up into Jordan’s touch, his whole body tensing. His face was a mask of pure, unadulterated bliss. It was the hottest thing Jordan had ever seen. The power of it, the raw honesty of Chad’s pleasure, nearly made him come right then. Chad’s hand, seemingly moving on its own volition, reached out. His calloused, work-rough fingers wrapped around Jordan’s cock. Jordan gasped as Chad’s hand squeezed, his grip firm and confident. Chad’s eyes went wide with awe. “Jesus, man,” Chad breathed, giving him a slow, deliberate stroke. “It’s fuckin’ perfect.” “Feels so good,” Jordan moaned, his own hand continuing its rhythm on Chad. “You feel so good. Stroking another guy’s cock… fuck…” “I know,” Chad groaned, his hips moving in time with Jordan’s hand. “Never… never thought… oh, god…” His words dissolved into a series of helpless sounds. His breathing became shallow, frantic. “Jordan… fuck, dude, if you keep doing that… I’m gonna… I’m so close…” Jordan could feel it, the tension coiling impossibly tight in Chad’s body, the way his cock jumped and thickened in his hand. He slowed his strokes, letting the pressure subside for a tantalizing moment, drawing it out. He saw the frustration and desperate need flash in Chad’s eyes. Then he took him right back to the edge, his hand moving faster, tighter, his thumb swirling over the leaking slit. Chad’s control shattered. “I’m gonna cum, man! Oh, fuck, my cock feels so good, I’m so close, I’m cum—!” His whole body went rigid. A deep, primal groan erupted from his chest as his hips slammed up off the bed. The first shot hit Jordan’s stomach, a hot, startling splash. The second, third, fourth followed in rapid, powerful spurts, painting Jordan’s abs, his cock, his balls with thick, white stripes. Chad’s body shuddered violently through the release, his moans raw and unfiltered. The sight, the feeling of Chad’s hot cum on his skin, the sound of his complete surrender—it tipped Jordan over the edge he’d been teetering on. His own orgasm ripped through him with a force that made his vision blur. He cried out, his release jetting out in long, aching pulses, mingling with Chad’s on his stomach, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. For a long moment, there was only the sound of their heavy, gasping breaths. Jordan’s hand was still wrapped around Chad’s softening cock, coated in both their release. Chad’s hand had stilled on him. Chad blinked, looking dazed, spent, a little shocked. “That was…” he started, his voice rough. “Incredibly hot,” Jordan finished for him, a lazy, sated smile spreading across his face. Chad nodded slowly, a matching grin breaking through his stunned expression. “Yeah. It really was.” They sat there for another moment in the messy, perfect silence before Chad finally moved, grabbing the towel from the foot of his bed. “Here,” he said, his voice softer now. “We should probably…” Jordan took the towel, their fingers brushing. He started to clean himself up, the warm, sticky evidence of their shared pleasure a brand on his skin. The two agreed and call it a night. Chapter23 The morning light was a harsh, unforgiving bleach on the cheap hotel room carpet. Jordan woke to the sound of the shower running, the events of the night before hitting him with the force of a physical blow. Chad. His hand. His cum. He braced himself for the awkwardness, the regret, the inevitable cold shoulder he was certain would define their entire workday. The bathroom door clicked open. Steam billowed out, and Chad emerged, a towel slung low on his hips, his tattooed chest and shoulders glistening. He ran a hand through his wet, dark hair and nodded toward Jordan’s bed. “Mornin’. You shower. I’ll grab us some shitty hotel coffee.” No hesitation. No weird vibe. Just… normal. Relief, cool and sweet, washed through Jordan. “Yeah. Sounds good.” They moved through their morning routines with a practiced, silent efficiency, two guys who knew how to get ready for a hard day’s work. They dressed in their company-issued dark t-shirts and heavy work pants, laced up their boots, and headed out to the truck. The silence in the cab was comfortable, filled only with the rumble of the engine and the classic rock playing low on the radio. Jordan dared to hope they could just… move on. Then Chad cleared his throat, his large hands tightening on the steering wheel. “Listen, man. About last night.” Here it comes, Jordan thought, his stomach clenching. “I just… I want you to know I’m not gay,” Chad said, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. His voice was firm, a declaration meant for himself as much as for Jordan. “No interest in guys. No feelings for men. At all.” Jordan just nodded, keeping his expression neutral. Sure, dude. Whatever you need to tell yourself. But Chad continued, and his tone shifted from defensive to something far more compelling. “It’s just… I’ve never been in the room with another guy doing that. Never had someone watch me. And fuck, Jordan… it was one of the hottest, most erotic things I’ve ever done.” He finally risked a glance over, his brown eyes intense. “I was so turned on by it. By how in tune you were with your own dick. How much you clearly love to pleasure yourself. Just like I do. It was… fucking hot, man.” A jolt of pure, electric heat shot straight to Jordan’s groin. His cock, always responsive, began to thicken and swell against the rough fabric of his work pants. He adjusted himself subtly, the movement catching Chad’s eye. “I get it,” Jordan said, his voice a little thicker than he intended. “I love my cock. Love the weight of it in my hand. The way the skin slides. The deviousness of it. “Yeah?” Chad’s gaze dropped to Jordan’s lap, then quickly back to the road. A faint blush colored his neck above his shirt collar. Jordan followed his line of sight and saw the undeniable proof of his own words: a distinct, growing bulge was tenting his pants, the dark grey fabric already darkening with a small, wet patch of precum. Fuck, I’m leaking already. His eyes flicked to Chad’s lap. The same thing was happening there. A prominent ridge was straining against the zipper of his jeans, a matching damp spot forming. The sight made Jordan’s mouth water. “Looks like you do, too,” Jordan murmured, nodding toward Chad’s crotch. Chad let out a shaky laugh, a mix of embarrassment and raw arousal. “Chronic, bro. I’m a chronic bator. Can’t help it.” “Join the club,” Jordan grinned, the tension in the cab shifting from awkward to unbearably charged. The air was thick with the scent of their soap, their sweat, and the potent, musky scent of their mutual arousal. An idea, reckless and perfect, bloomed in Jordan’s mind. “Shop yard’s still twenty minutes out. We’re already hard, already wet… Wanna rub one out on the way? See if anyone sees us?” Chad’s head snapped toward him, his eyes wide. For a heart-stopping second, Jordan thought he’d gone too far. Then a slow, wicked grin spread across Chad’s face. “Fuck yeah. I dare you.” It was all the permission they needed. In a synchronized, frantic motion, they fumbled with their belts and zippers. The sounds of denim and metal were loud in the confines of the truck. Jordan pushed his pants and boxer briefs down just past his hips, his six-inch cock springing free, already fully hard and glistening at the tip. A breath later, Chad’s thicker, veiny eight inches was freed, standing proud and heavy against his stomach. “Holy shit,” Jordan breathed, his eyes drinking in the sight of Chad’s impressive length, the way his hand hugged the flared head. “I'm definitely not small,” Chad said, his voice rough with pride as he wrapped his work-roughened hand around his own shaft. He gave a slow, possessive stroke, his eyes locked on Jordan’s equally hard dick. Jordan mirrored him, his own hand a familiar, welcome pressure on his aching flesh. He moaned, low and soft, as his thumb smeared the bead of precum over his sensitive head. They fell into a rhythm, their breathing becoming ragged, their hands working their own cocks in a lewd, public display. A semi-truck roared past them on the left. Jordan looked up, meeting the eyes of the driver high in his cab. The man’s eyes widened, then dropped, his expression shifting from confusion to stunned arousal. He didn’t look away. He just watched, mesmerized, as Jordan and Chad stroked themselves on the highway. “He’s watching,” Jordan gasped, increasing his pace. His balls were drawing up tight, a familiar pressure building at his base. “I know,” Chad groaned, his hips thrusting slightly into his fist. “Fuck, it makes it so much better.” They drove like that for miles, two grown men with their cocks out, jacking off in broad daylight. The world outside the windshield became a blur; the only thing that mattered was the simmering heat in their groins and the shared, deviant thrill of exposure. “Gonna cum soon, bro. I am super close,” Chad gritted out, his strokes becoming frantic, jerky. “Jordan, fuck, I’m gonna—” “Me too,” Jordan panted, the climax coiling tight and desperate within him. “But where? Nowhere to shoot it, man. It’ll get all over the fucking truck.” Chad’s eyes were wild, desperate. “I don’t care, I can’t stop—” “Here,” Jordan said, the idea arriving in a flash of inspiration. He held out his free hand, palm up, between them. “Do it. Cum in my hand.” Chad didn’t hesitate. With a guttural cry that was pure animal release, his body seized. His cock pulsed violently in his hand, and the first thick, white rope launched across the space between them, landing with a hot, wet splat in Jordan’s palm. A second followed, and a third, each shot a powerful eruption that filled Jordan’s hand with Chad’s warm, musky essence. The sight, the smell, the incredible heat of another man’s release in his hand was the final trigger for Jordan. Using his new bator friend load he gripped his shaft. The wet, sloppy sounds it made was the final tippong point. His own orgasm exploded out of him, his vision whiting out at the edges. He cried out, his release jetting out in aching pulses, mixing with Chad’s in his cupped palm, coating his fingers in their combined spend. For a long moment, they just sat there, breathless, spent, their softening cocks still out, their hands still. Jordan’s palm was full, a warm, sticky pool of their pleasure. Chad looked down at the mess, then at Jordan’s face, a dazed, sated look in his eyes. “What are you gonna…?” Jordan brought his hand to his face. The scent was intensely masculine, primal. Without breaking eye contact with Chad, he leaned forward and slowly, deliberately, ran his tongue through the warm, salty mixture in his palm. Chad’s jaw went slack, a sharp, stunned inhale hissing through his teeth. “Fuck, Jordan…” A devious smile touched Jordan’s lips as he savored the taste. “Waste not, want not.”

greaT story! sorry for all the mishaps, but it brought back some of my memories of well-planned sexcations that imploded unexpectedly. Your comment about 'how very few patterns humans have' is so true. i try to shake things up a bit when i'm at the baThs, but you can't change some people. Thanks for the story!

AUTHOR NOTE: this one is inspired by a discussion I had about a so-called AI companion where folks worldwide sent confidences (even erotic) and on the other side there was a man who guided the bot to answer, so he could read every intimate speech users sent. Paid service, obvious. That's why I'd never trust using those for sexting role play! Here's the setup. Let's start! No AI has been used to create this, I'm an author and I care about my writing not to end up into #AISlop ---- Leo: I'm 22, twink, naive. My world is behind a screen and video-games. Very shy in real life. Sex? Never had, too fearful of judgments for my sex orientation and kinks! I just look at guys when I go to the gym and that's all! My entire sex life stays on BreedingZone where I found so many guys with my same fetishes. HIV included, yes, I'm one of those bug chasers wannabe. But with age verification spreading all over the world, interesting people to sext with, just disappeared and my inbox is always empty. But one day I found a topic referring to chatbots. "AI doesn't judge, it talks, so let's share the ones where you have your best sex conversations!" Curious of AI, I was discouraged. The most important engines just reject any explicit contents, so I followed that topic. Surprisingly, the most verbal man in that post, was a certain GifterAlex, a huge biohazard as profile pic, and a very different profile from the others. Interests: computer, tech, AI, research, psychology Very strange for a sex related website, so I kept on reading. Background: mid 40s, Caucasian, progressive politically oriented, in favor of any technology innovation gay men can benefit of. HIV status: poz, not on meds Role: top Looking for: real and concrete encounters. Not here to waste time. Access denied to flakes, fakes, bigots and crybabies. "Ambiguous", I thought; if he talks about computers in a sex site then he wants to hookup, where's the trap? Isn't he one of those "morality guardians" sent by far-right politicians to out gays around the world? So, I read his post: "Most interesting and effective bot I found is called Highly Intelligent Volunteer. It can provide any kind of advices, it's a very customizable agent. By text you can ask it anything. Try it for free at least 30 days then you'll be CHARGED". Didn't give too many attention on the word "charged" capitalized; could be just he wanted to warn readers they were going to pay. Curiosity hit me, I avoided asking questions about who the owner was, if it was an advertisement or just an advice. GifterAlex could be a user like me and I signed up with no hesitation. [TO BE CONTINUED]

I try to reinforce that when a guy gets me off especially well. Every load feels good, of course, but some are a lot better than others. When it's great, I'll say something like "Your ass/mouth seems like it's specially molded for my cock." Even a cumdump likes knowing he's appreciated. Of course, the ultimate compliment is if I ask for your number and we play again. Even if it's "meh" I'll usually mumble a perfunctory "thanks" as I withdraw.

Exactly. When I get so horny that I can't think right. The lunch break, after gym, or after work pump & dump gives relief.