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GREAT - Horny - HOT - ERECTIONS - Can Not Resisted - RAW ONLY WAY - more - more - Videos !

POZ BOTTOMS - Showing in Public - Fishing for SEX - so Fucking HOT - more - more - PLEASE !

I stopped counting about 15 years ago when I was well over 1000 dicks up my hole! Learned at an early age what my hole was for!

I will say @TaKinGDeePanal - I've had two relationships that lasted nearly a decade and one a little less. With each, there were some early cautionary flags that I should have paid attention to that ultimately would have saved me from being in that relationship. With Jason, I don't think I'm looking back at him with rose colored glasses, but there weren't any such cautionary signals at all. Even with the extreme nature of entering in to this BDSM event, I was calmed by having him there. So....maybe that says something, but I saw no reason before during or after this event to stop developing our friendship and relationship (and to continue the extremely dirty and amazing sex) 🙂

I love your answer. 😈

So Fucking HOT - Imagining wearing them in PUBLIC - on the Beach showing off to the Public - more - more - Please !

I don't know. We would have been Jason and Jason which would have been annoying, but he certainly is one of a few people or choices in life that I'll never know but still ponder the question you're asking. The way we connected was so authentic, and so effortless, that had what happened to his parents did not happen, we might have gone the distance - yeah. We talked prior to his family trauma about his struggles with depression (and mine as well) and he was actively engaged in finding a new therapist and switching psychiatrists because he did not feel like the medication he was on (Zoloft, I think) was working. So, he was being proactive about his mental health. I don't think anything could have overcome what happen with his family and I think he went very quickly off of a deep end. So yeah, I do think we could have. But I'll never know. Part of writing this really has unlocked a lot for me of stuff I've buried. When he died so shortly after this, I was traumatized also, and I think pushed this entire experience in to the netherworld of my brain. It was only a friend asking me if I was ever going to write this story down for posterities sake that I finally decided to do so. He was a real kind, compassionate, fun, sexy, pig fucker that roped me in with his charm to what you'll be reading over the next weeks. I think I wrote this somewhere but - this is truly something that I think was once in a lifetime....and now having written about so much of it, I see how much impact it has had on me. In positive ways. And I owe that to Jason, Jacob and Aleks.

I was about 4 or 5 yrs old - my Aunt always wanted a Daughter , cleaning the snow off her drive way - started putting Chap Stick on my Lips - then ran out - she putting Lip Stick on my lips - spending nights with her - she bought / wearing girly clothes on - makeup - Helping Her - Obeying her - She was Happy and Pleased !

Looking to service dom tops in the bay

Do you think that had circumstances been different, you guys would have ended up in a long-term relationship?

Fantastic - I was younger - my Uncle and his BEST Friend teaching me about Life - videos - Guys and Girls loves giving Blow Jobs -I was 1 of the Big Boys - seems like I was in a neighborhood young males by Family Members or later on Strangers enjoy Teaching us about SEX !

Love your Profile - RAW the only way - Exciting - Doing It - Can Not Resisted - Gang Bangs - getting High - more the BETTER - Looking for POZ Cocks !

@viking8x6 can you advise why comments on the block are not allowed? Just curious if I did something wrong. I'd appreciate people having the ability to comment.

Hugs!!!

When I was younger I had a friend that would sleep over all the time. One night we had some alcohol and got pretty buzzed. I fell asleep with my head right at the edge of the bed and woke up to something touching my lips. The room was really dark but my eyes were adjusted enough to see it was my friends cock. I was pretty freaked out at first but just kept acting like I was sleeping. I let him slowly part my lips and work his cock in my mouth. He started going a little deeper with every thrust. I let him slowly fuck my mouth with his whole cock until he started cumming and I swallowed it all. This was just the beginning of many many more times to come. I started enjoying getting my throat fucked and acting like I didn't know.

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All right!! Part 1 is now published. I believe it has to go through moderation. But it's there. In addition, I would love feedback on the Author's note (which gives some back story about the characters that is important to know). I'll be posting the "Writing Guidelines" I used later today after I complete my final edit.

It was late spring 2010 in Seattle. I was 31 at the time, 5’10”, 170lbs, athletic and fit and a very active and competitive cyclist. I was in great shape physically and mentally. I kept myself very well groomed – cropped haircut that looked both professional and casual, clean shaven. I dressed like a modern professional at work, and an early 30s modern gay in my downtime. I had a beautiful condo overlooking Lake Union, and close connections with friends and family. I looked very much like the boy next door who had grown up and into a successful career after his time at university and lived a comfortable city life. I worked along with 130,000 other people, and a large percentage of other Seattle gays at one of Seattle’s largest companies. “The Company” Because so many of the Seattle gay social scene worked at my company and a couple others, it meant we drank, dated, partied, clubbed, fucked, and socialized with many of the same people inside and outside of work. Everyone knew everyone, or knew someone who had slept with someone who had once dated someone…and someone always knew something about someone who had once dated the person you were interested in. There were entire blogs written by gay Seattle under pseudonyms sharing the juicy details about events or parties of all kinds, or take-down sites that shared rumors to avenge a grudge. It was Gossip Girl, Gay Seattle style. Appearance wise and professionally, I was a catch. I was involved in the gay social circles, but I was also somewhat of a pariah. By this time in 2010, I had been out of the closet for nearly two decades (15 years) and had had more bareback sex than probably fifty of the people I knew combined. I hooked up regularly with people off Craigslist and frequented Club Z and Basic Plumbing. I was known for liking “dirty” things like wearing harnesses, using dildos, and piss. Over the course of the years, all of this had become part of my persona that people talked about with everyone else but me. I honestly didn’t really care. There was nothing I could do to erase what they believe they knew, and regardless of how they got their information about me, a lot of it was true. But that didn’t mean they liked it. It did make any attempts at dating futile. Despite being adamantly against condom-sex and having a strong appetite for non-“vanilla” sex, first dates for me often involved overcoming rumors and perceptions. “Do you really bareback?” “You go to Club Z, isn’t that place just all people with HIV doing drugs?” I wasn’t even positive at this point. First dates spent explaining these things are a clear indicator things aren’t going to work. So I focused on what I knew I did well and really liked doing…sex. My kind of sex. I was still active socially, but instead of accepting date invites or asking guys out, I’d go home and cook dinner, find some dick on Craigslist, get a load, and go to sleep………… ----------------------------- I hadn't met Ethan before, and we didn't have any work interaction at "the company.” I would come to find out that we also had very few friends in common, which was a rare thing for those that were gay in Seattle AND worked at the company. We were both asked by our separate organizations to work on a special cross-company project along with several others and started having daily multi-hour project meetings and working sessions that would last past dinnertime. I thought he was attractive, and we didn’t need to tell each other we were gay. We were as flirty as you can be in a professional environment in front of colleagues by our second day on the project. Ethan was a presence. He was 6’4” or 5” – muscular but still had a softness to his lines and contours. His arms were muscly. He had a trim waste, big chest, big butt and thighs. He had a cropped haircut of very dark almost black hair. He had a great smile filled with shocking white teeth contrasting with his light but still olive complexion. He dressed like a well dressed Italian – fitted shirts and polos, expensive jeans and fitted pants. He was funny and told amazing jokes, was polite and kind with his words. He had the type of confidence that you love to see in people…not ever bordering on arrogant but secure in himself. We hit it off and at the end of the second week of the project, we decided to drive back to the city and go have a drink. The palpable sexual energy grew while he rubbed my leg while sitting next to each other on bar stools. At the end of round one he had migrated his hand all the way to right between my legs and underneath my balls and we had kissed briefly. We drove back to his place and had really amazing sex. Ethan had a really nice dick – big enough to be notable compared to others. It was like the perfect dick. It was a Goldilocks dick. I didn’t give a shit about where we were going as a couple but I’m going to do everything to remain friends… He had been behind me eating my hole and then suddenly there was lube slathered across my hole. He moved very quickly and the very next thing I knew, his dick was pushing against the center of my hole playfully. And then in one aggressive and committed move, he pushed his dick all the way in and kept pushing until my hole was wrapped around the base of his dick. I moaned and squirmed a bit – that was not a typical maneuver for most tops so it was completely unexpected. He settled into a normal rhythm of fucking me, occasionally smacking my ass, and occasionally pulling his dick all the way out and shoving it back in. I could feel my hole being worked and stretched and I was moaning and asking him for more. Over probably 25 minutes, he came three times back-to-back inside of me. I could feel each one as his dick twitched and he gave extra power to thrust deep inside me to bury his load. He eventually pulled out and before I could move from my hands and knees position to lay down, he started working my hole with his fingers. Before I knew it he had all five fingers in my hole and was working to get his hand deeper inside me. He kept going for over 10 minutes until I was comfortable up to the widest part of his hand. He continued to work but after many minutes of this we stopped, both of us exhausted. We collapsed side by side. “That was fucking awesome. It was fucking hot being inside you.” “Damn dude, that was one helluva fuck! I can’t believe you came three times!” “It’s a curse. Even when I jerk off I cum multiple times! So, I fucked you raw. Sorry about that. I’m not a condom guy. I’m negative and don’t have any STDs.” “Dude, I only fuck without a condom. It’s fine with me. Me too on the test results. I want you to do that when we fuck again!” He grabbed my hand and rolled to his side to look at me. We both looked like two gays who just had amazing sex. A sheen of sweet across our bodies, hair disheveled, smiling. “So no condoms. Yeah, I really hate them. I know it’s not a popular opinion but…ah well! I got a lot of unpopular opinions. I don’t share them all that much because Seattle gays are so fucking judgy!” We talked a bit about the Seattle gay scene and being part of it, but also outsiders as well. We had a real connection in that way. “So what else do you like to do…like…in terms of sex and fucking?” We talked for about an hour about all the things we had in common sexually and shared some interesting stories from our past. We got a long great on a multitude of levels……………………….. ----------------------------- Over the next several weeks, we continued to hook up but I wouldn’t say either of us thought of it as dating. In fact, frequently we’d get together after the gym after work, fuck, and then go out to sushi or a restaurant after. It was effortless. We had an obvious attraction for each other, but we were not forcing things in to a “dating” or “relationship” box. We hooked up at work a few times – I’d go to his building or he’d come to mine, or we’d meet somewhere on campus. He’d also occasionally send me “dares” via instant message. “I dare you to piss in a coffee cup and then carry it around with you to meetings for the rest of the day” or “Go jerk off in the bathroom on to your hand and send me a picture of you eating it.” I completed all of the dares. It was nice to have a friend I had things in common with that I could be myself around and also have great sex with……………………………………………… ----------------------------- About three months after our first “date,” the company announced a special “bonus” for all employees – a full week paid week off. Different organizations would have different weeks, but Ethan and I would come to find out that our organizations had the same week assigned for our bonus week. We hadn’t talked the week prior to the “bonus week” because I think everyone was scrambling to get stuff done so we could enjoy the time off. I had planned on staying home, doing projects around the house, seeing family…. just relaxing. That became boring by Saturday mid-day when I got a call from Ethan. “What are you up to?” It was a beautiful late spring day, blue skies, warm but not hot. He invited me over to his house to have some drinks outside on the deck. He had a beautiful hose overlooking the water. I started to change clothes and was about to leave but stopped at the door and decided I should douche just in case. I didn’t think this was a bootie call but it’s better to be prepared than sorry. I got to Ethan’s and he opened the door and he walked towards me, wrapped his big arms around me, and lifted me off the ground and spun around on his front porch. He was in a very good high energy mood, and it was palpable. He made some vodka sodas and after a few rounds, shooting the shit, we both had a nice buzz. He came back with one more around and after setting them down walked behind my chair and started squeezing my shoulders repeatedly. His touch was firm and penetrating, but not painful. My body was already tingling. He then reached over further and ran both his hands down the front of my torso, continuing his hand all the down until he reached the waist of my jeans. The pressure of his hands was again firm and penetrating and I felt amazing. My dick was rock hard and I wanted nothing else but to get naked and climb on to his dick. He stood back up and walked to his chair and sat down, looking over at me. “I really like that we can talk about all the things we talk about. I don’t get to do that with many people. They’re either freaked out, intimated, scared, or part of the ‘safe only’ crowd.” I could relate. “Trust me, I get it. I don’t even get to talk about stuff like this because half the time, people have already heard about me from someone else.” “So, you really like…?” (he listed out a bunch of the stuff we had talked about) “Yeah, really, I do. I wish I had more of it. Sometimes it’s hard enough to find someone to fuck without a condom, let alone piss on you…as an example.” “Totally. I just keep being up front about it and fuck the judgy assholes………so………how do you feel about like bondage, restraints, gags, things like that. I know we talked a little about it but are you in to it?” I told him how I had restraints, harnesses, gags, restraints myself but only rarely used them during longer fuck sessions. Ethan told me he liked using them as often as possible. “Can I show you something? Come with me and take a look at this.” We entered the house and walked into the living room. Tucked in to an alcove you wouldn’t see unless you stood in the living room (which I’d not done on previous visits) was this MASSIVE black trunk. It appeared to be covered in leather, had silver hardware and handles, and was just massive in size. At least two people could sit inside. Covered with embossed black leather with silver hardware and handles, filling the entire width of the alcove and approximately 4 feet tall. It was massive. It was a beautiful statement piece and was strangely very different than the rest of the furniture I’d seen at his house. “That thing is huge. Where did you get it?” He had purchased it when a famous hotel in New York had closed several years prior. It was one of the statement pieces they had in their lobby. He opened the trunk. I was speechless and stood there with my hand raised to cover my mouth, eyes wide trying to take in everything in front of me. Inside, and very neatly organized, were an array of all things “sex” - dildos, buttplugs, anal beads. All types of restraints and harnesses, ball gags, different types of rope, chains, locks. There was a thing I would learn was called "the humbler" which looked like a symmetrical paddle with a hole in the middle. There was some plastic tubing and a box shaped “bucket.” Nipple clamps, cockrings, ball stretchers. There was a control panel with dials and a cord next to a ziplock bag of smaller cords which I assumed had to be some fancy eStim device. It wasn't just like he had one of some of these items, he had multiple. And it was so meticulously organized. You probably couldn't go into a sex store and find as much inventory. We were standing side by side and he grabbed my shoulder and squeezed. “Whadya thing?” He seemed genuinely excited to show it to me and hear my response. My eyes were wide because I was taking it all in, I had a grin on my face. I was impressed and said so to Ethan: "This is really fucking impressive. You have like EVERYTHING! And it's all so organized. All my gear is in a duffle back in the closet and every time you want anything you have to dump the whole bag out and scrounge around on the floor just to find a cockring! I'm jealous!" "Don't be jealous! (he switched gears really quick) I thought maybe we could carve out some time to work on our deliverables sometime this week even though we're not working. What do you have going on this week...anything?" "Not a damn thing - I don't want to do anything that I thought I would tackle so I'm probably just gonna watch TV and play XBOX." "So no family anything, no dates, no meet ups with friends?" (I remember thinking he was asking for a lot of specificity but it didn't alarm me...Ethan was a business analyst so his job is to probe for details. But the change in focus from sex toys to my week-off schedule was abrupt. In retrospect, I understood his interest for my full week’s schedule.) "Nope!" "Cool, well, you wanna have some fun and play with some of this shit. You cool with a little Dom/Sub action? I'll be the Dom since you don't know what half this shit is probably." "Fuck yeah! This is hot as fuck. Are you gonna fuck me full of cum again too? I want some more of that." "Hell yeah, trust me, you'll get plenty of cum." (to be continued .... as of the date of publication 12/27/2025 - 22 additional Parts have been written with a plan for 18 more)

Yes. I go fairly often and hope to be there tomorrow 28th

I want to be whored out like this so bad anyone in phoenix down to be my lookout and get tops on the apps?!!

The motel's parking lot was a sea of cracked asphalt under the harsh glare of sodium lamps, the air thick with the hum of distant traffic and the stale scent of rain-soaked dumpsters. Jake, barely 19 and hailing from a nowhere town where dreams went to die, had scraped together bus fare on a whim, chasing whispers of quick money in the city. The online ad had promised 'discreet companionship gigs—no experience needed.' He'd figured it meant posing for photos or light flirting, not this. His palms sweated as he clutched the room key, the brass tag for Room 12 biting into his skin. Inside, the space was a time capsule of despair: yellowed walls with water stains blooming like bruises, a lumpy queen bed sagging under its own weight, and a bathroom door that hung crooked on rusted hinges. Jake paced, his sneakers scuffing the threadbare rug, rehearsing lines in his head. He was slim, boyish—5'9" with tousled brown hair, clear skin, and wide blue eyes that screamed innocence. Tight jeans hugged his narrow hips, and a simple white tee clung to his flat chest. The wired half-payment sat heavy in his pocket, a reminder that backing out wasn't an option. The knock came at exactly 9 PM, sharp as a gunshot. Jake's stomach twisted. He cracked the door, peeking out before swinging it wide. There stood Marcus, a wall of a man at 6'3", his frame packed with muscle from years of manual labor and gym sessions. Late 30s, with a square jaw shadowed by dark stubble, cropped black hair, and eyes like chipped emeralds—cold, calculating. He wore a fitted black polo that strained across his pecs and cargo pants that did nothing to hide the bulge snaking down his thigh. A faint scar ran along his left cheek, adding to the air of quiet menace. "You Jake?" Marcus's voice rumbled, deep and edged with authority, as he shouldered past without invitation, the door thudding shut behind him. "Y-yeah," Jake stammered, locking it out of habit. "Marcus, right? Make yourself comfortable. There's... uh, water or chips if you want." Marcus's laugh was low, predatory, echoing off the thin walls. He dropped a duffel bag by the bed and turned, sizing Jake up like prey. "Cut the small talk, boy. I didn't drive two hours for snacks. You read the profile? Know what I expect?" Jake nodded too quickly, cheeks burning. The messages had been vague—'mutual fun, safe play'—but the cash had blinded him. "Sure. We can ease into it. Maybe talk first?" Marcus closed the distance in two strides, his cologne—a mix of leather and spice—overwhelming the room's mustiness. He grabbed Jake's wrist, yanking him close. "Talk's for shrinks. Strip. Now. Or I walk, and you keep that half-payment as a lesson." Jake's breath hitched, but he complied, fingers fumbling with his shirt buttons. It fell open, exposing pale skin unmarked by anything but a faint freckle trail across his collarbone. He toed off his sneakers, then shoved down his jeans, stepping out in plain gray boxers that tented slightly from nerves and unwanted arousal. Marcus watched, unblinking, then peeled off his own polo, revealing a torso carved from stone—broad shoulders, ripped abs dusted with coarse hair that arrowed down to his waistband. "Kneel," Marcus commanded, voice dropping an octave. He unbuckled his belt with deliberate slowness, the leather whispering through loops. Jake sank to his knees, the rough carpet scraping his shins. The zipper's rasp was deafening in the silence. Marcus hauled out his cock—monstrous, at least ten inches of girthy meat, veins bulging like ropes, the uncut head already flushing purple and leaking a fat bead of precum. It bobbed heavily, slapping against his palm as he stroked it to full hardness. "Open wide, rentboy," Marcus said, gripping Jake's hair and tilting his head back. The cockhead smeared across his lips, salty and musky, forcing Jake's mouth apart. He pushed in, the thickness prying his jaw to its limit, filling his mouth until his cheeks bulged. Jake gurgled, eyes watering as he tried to accommodate. His tongue pressed flat against the underside, tasting the bitter tang of skin and arousal. Marcus didn't wait, thrusting forward to bury half his length, the head bumping his tonsils. "Suck harder. Use that tongue like you mean it." Jake hollowed his cheeks, slurping messily as he bobbed, saliva bubbling at the corners of his lips. Marcus's hips rocked, fucking his face with increasing force—short jabs that made Jake choke, throat convulsing around the invading shaft. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the drool that dripped onto his chest. "Gag on it, boy. Choke like the slut you are," Marcus growled, yanking Jake's hair to control the depth. The room reeked of sweat and sex, wet glucks punctuating each plunge. Minutes stretched into agony, Jake's jaw aching, lips numb. Marcus finally withdrew with a pop, strings of spit connecting them. His cock glistened, throbbing angrily. "Bed. Ass in the air. Time to earn the rest." Jake crawled onto the mattress, knees sinking into the thin padding, heart hammering. He'd fooled around before—a fumbling handjob in a dorm, a quick suck in an alley—but nothing like this beast. Marcus rummaged in his bag, pulling out lube and a condom packet. He slicked his fingers, then knelt behind Jake, who was on all fours, boxers yanked down to his thighs. "Ever taken it up the ass?" Marcus asked, one rough finger circling Jake's virgin pucker. "N-not really," Jake admitted, voice muffled in the pillow. Marcus snorted. "Tight little hole. Gonna ruin you." He shoved a finger in dry first, ignoring the yelp, twisting it deep. Jake clenched, burning pain flaring, but Marcus added a second, scissoring brutally, stretching the ring without mercy. Lube followed, cold and slick, but the prep was cursory—three fingers pumping fast, hooking to graze the prostate and draw involuntary moans. "Please... go slow," Jake begged, trembling. "Slow's for pussies." Marcus rolled on the condom, the latex straining over his girth, then positioned himself. He gripped Jake's hips with bruising force, nails digging crescents into flesh, and rammed forward. The head breached with a pop, tearing a scream from Jake as inches forced their way in, splitting him open. "Fuck, it's too big! Stop!" Jake clawed at the sheets, body locking up. Marcus didn't. He thrust harder, burying to the balls in one vicious shove. Jake's hole resisted, then gave, a sharp rip of pain as the dry friction caused micro-tears. Blood welled, warm and slick, mixing with lube to ease the slide—but not enough. Marcus pulled back, the condom smeared red, then slammed home again, the bedframe rattling. "Take my cock, you whiny bitch," Marcus snarled, setting a punishing rhythm. Each thrust was a battering ram—deep, grinding, his hips slapping Jake's ass cheeks until they reddened. Jake sobbed, the burn intensifying as blood trickled down his thighs, staining the sheets. His hole pulsed around the shaft, torn and inflamed, every withdrawal tugging at the raw edges. But pleasure twisted in amid the agony, his prostate hammered relentlessly, forcing his cock to leak onto the mattress. "It hurts... oh god, it's bleeding... pull out!" Jake gasped, but his hips bucked back on instinct, chasing the fullness. Marcus laughed, sweat flying as he pounded faster. His balls swung heavy, smacking Jake's taint. He reached around, fisting Jake's dick roughly, jerking it in time—twisting the head, squeezing the base until Jake whined. The room was a cacophony: skin slapping wetly, Jake's cries, Marcus's grunts, the metallic tang of blood in the air. Deeper into the rut, Marcus's control frayed. He hooked an arm around Jake's waist, flipping him onto his back without exiting—legs shoved up, knees to chest, exposing everything. Blood smeared Jake's crack, the hole gaping slightly, puffy and wrecked. Marcus drove in again, the angle brutal, cock spearing straight to the core. Jake's eyes rolled, tears carving paths down his temples. "Look at you, bleeding for my dick. Pathetic." Marcus spat on his chest, then leaned down to bite Jake's nipple hard, drawing blood there too. His thrusts turned feral, hips pistoning like a machine, the condom's base chafing the torn rim. Jake's protests weakened, body betraying him as orgasm built unbidden. "No... don't... it burns so much..." That's when Marcus struck. Mid-thrust, his fingers pinched the condom's rim, tearing it with a sharp rip. He yanked the shredded latex free, flinging it aside, and plunged back in bare—hot skin sliding through blood and lube, raw and intimate. Jake felt the shift immediately: the loss of barrier, the increased glide, the danger. "What the fuck? The condom—stop! You're not wearing—" Jake thrashed, but Marcus pinned his arms overhead with one massive hand, the other clamping his throat just tight enough to restrict air. "Shut your hole," Marcus hissed, choking him lightly as he fucked harder. The bare cock dragged against every nerve, blood lubricating the assault. Jake's vision blurred, panic surging as he realized the risk—unprotected, this stranger's seed about to flood him. "Please... cum outside... I beg you," Jake wheezed when the hand eased, legs quivering over Marcus's shoulders. Marcus's eyes burned with dark triumph. He was loaded with HIV, viral count raging from skipped meds, and this naive kid was his perfect vector—young, fuckable, forgettable. "Beg all you want. You're getting bred raw." The pace became savage. Marcus hammered down, cock swelling, veins pulsing against Jake's walls. Blood squelched with each plunge, the hole a ruined mess—swollen, torn, leaking crimson trails. Jake's body convulsed, unwanted ecstasy ripping through him as his prostate was abused. He came first, untouched now, spurting ropes across his stomach with a broken cry, ass clenching like a vice. That triggered Marcus. He roared, burying deep, and unleashed. Cum jetted in thick, forceful blasts—hot, viscous, painting Jake's insides white. Pulse after pulse, overflowing the battered channel, mixing with blood to ooze out in pinkish rivulets. Marcus ground in circles, ensuring every drop stayed buried, marking the boy irrevocably. Finally spent, he pulled out with a obscene squelch, a flood of cum and blood following, soaking the bed. Jake curled fetal, sobbing, his ass throbbing in agony, hole twitching and gaping, unable to close. Fresh blood seeped steadily, the tears deep enough to sting with every shift. Marcus stood, cock softening and streaked red, wiping it clean on Jake's discarded shirt. He tossed the remaining cash on the nightstand. "Worth every penny. Clean up that mess—might wanna see a doc for the bleeding. Or don't. Your call, slut." "You... you did that on purpose. The condom... and you're... sick, aren't you?" Jake whispered, horror choking him as the warmth inside turned to dread. Marcus zipped up, smirking. "Who knows? Life's a gamble, kid. Enjoy the ride." He grabbed his bag and left, the door clicking shut like a final nail. Jake lay there for hours, body wrecked, mind fracturing. The clinic call came days later: positive, as expected. Scars lingered—not just the physical ones on his ass, still tender and scarred from the tears, but the invisible kind, twisting his desires into something darker. In the dead of night, fingers would probe the healed but sensitive ring, memories flooding back: the rip, the flood, the inescapable pull. Tricked, raped, infected, bleeding... and hooked.

I want a hotel cumdump just once either the bottom or the top