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No, but I am sure it seems that way sometimes...

Connected with an older Puerto Rican masculine Top on Sniffies. He was looking for a faggot cocksucker to suck him off as he wasn’t getting much attention at home. Neither of us had a place to play. So we decided to meet up late evening at a local Walmart and go down the street to a nearby cemetery to do the deed. I cleaned up and out to be ready for anything. I put my chastity cage on and an inserted a good sized anal plug into my ass. Then put on nipple clamps and chain. I arrived early. He showed up a few minutes later in a SUV and parked next to me. He texted me to get in his car in the backseat. I got in the backseat and he pulled out and started the short trip to the cemetery. He was checking me out in the rear view mirror as we drove. Once we turned into the dark secluded cemetery he told me to strip naked. I stripped quickly out of my clothes while he drove further in and found the spot he wanted to use. He parked and moved to the backseat. He unbuttoned his shirt and took off his pants. He was commando. And his Cock was a nice hard throbbing thick 7 inches. He says “suck it fag, no hands” I’m immediately on my knees between his legs taking his cock in my mouth. He grabs my head by my ears and guides me up and down on his throbbing shaft. He is fucking my mouth, shoving his cock in deep into my throat gagging me. He pulls me off his cock and moves me to his balls. “Lick and suck my balls whore”. Dutifully I lather up his ball sack with my tongue and lips. Then he pulls me back up to his cock again and face fucks me some more. He reaches in and pulls on my nipple clamps which tightens them more. he then reaches for my ass and finds the plug. He pulls the plug out and tells me to take it in my mouth. Then he roughly inserts two, then three, then four of his thick meaty fingers into my cunt. Suddenly he turns me around and shoves me down on the seat, and plows his hard cock raw into my fag ass. He fucks me rough, hard and deep. Pushing my face down into the seat, pounding me with abandon. Suddenly he erupts and dumps a massive load of his hot cum up my willing cunt. He takes the plug from my mouth and shoves up my ass sealing his load inside. He grabs my head and forces me on his slimy cock to clean him up. When I’m done he buttons his shirt and puts his pants back on. Then he tells me to get out of the car. He throws my clothes out to me, shuts the door and proceeds to drive away.

I posted an event on Buddy and Chill. Sniffies follows as soon as possible.

I‘ve been in a similar bathhouse in Budapest. Build in the times the turks had been there. I was treated in a similar way. But those times are gone and this bathhouse vanished short after O***n got reigns. Budapest isn‘t longer a good place for gay tourists. Good rememberings also of club COXX and yellow play there and also my WS experience in the labyrinth beneath the castle (formerly used as a jail).

☣️ Anal! Oral is fun when there's more cocks

I've seen nudist walking around the castro, is it illegal? I attend Dore and Folsom where I'm usually in a jockstrap during the fair and love getting fucked in public.

That's right - they're in several of @chi4loads stories (many thanks!!), including here: [think before following links] [think before following links] https://breeding.zone/topic/71582-rics-freshman-year/ [think before following links] [think before following links] https://breeding.zone/topic/75558-rics-2nd-year-at-university/

Will be traveling in southern France, Mediterranean coast from the Spanish border to around Montpellier, later this spring. Can anyone recommend a few mature-friendly spas/saunas/cruising bars? I don't expect to travel further west than Toulouse or further north than perhaps Avignon. Thanks!

Let us know how it went I'm so bummed i had to miss it because of work but i've got to pay bills and flying these days probably wasn't for the best. I hope it went well. Hopefully i'll go in Fall and Eagle will be open. I keep seeing the videos and looks like it will be a great spot if it ever opens.

I love to swallow the piss. I even bring it in bottle to work

I was married for some time but I couldn't resist on men. All I was thinking were dicks. I know that for a lot of men is easy to have their wives and secret gay sex, but it wasn't my case. Good thing is that after the divorce I became braver and i came out as a gay.

So… remember this story? 😅 Turns out real life decided to become the main plot for a while, but I’m back—and so is this. Thanks for hanging in there if you did. And if you’re just joining again, perfect timing. Here’s the next chapter! Part 18: Hippocratic Oath Versus Primal Urge: A Doctor's Surrender The sterile, clinical environment of the STD clinic greets you with its familiar antiseptic smell and fluorescent lights, creating a sense of unease that settles in the pit of your stomach. You approach the receptionist, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. "I need to see this young doctor here – forgot his name... It's urgent," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. The receptionist looks up from her desk, her expression a question mark, rattling off a few of the doctors‘ names. Before she can finish, the young doctor himself appears, walking down the hallway. You recognize him immediately, and your heart skips a beat. "Him," you say, pointing. "I need to see him." The receptionist follows your gaze and nods. "That's Dr. Sebastian Meyer. He's with a patient right now. Please have a seat in the waiting room. He will call you in." You nod and make your way to the waiting room, your mind racing with memories of your last encounters. The first time, he fucked you in his office, but denied you his toxic load. The second time, he found you in the bathroom, your ass still dripping with cum from another encounter, and he finished what he started, marking you as his. Each memory sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through your veins. A few minutes later, you are called into his office. Dr. Meyer greets you, his professional demeanor masking the intensity you know lies beneath. His eyes meet yours, and you can see the recognition in his gaze. He knows why you are here, and the tension between the two of you is palpable. "Please, have a seat," he says, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk. He settles into his own, the fabric stretching slightly across his chest as he leans forward, his hands clasped on the polished wood. "So," he begins, his voice a carefully measured baritone, "what brings you in today?" "An HIV test," you say, your voice steady, betraying none of the frantic energy thrumming beneath your skin. „Any reason you expect your test could show a different result from last time?“ he asks, his gaze sharp and clinical, though you know it is anything but. He is trying to maintain control, to keep this in the realm of doctor and patient, but you can see the memory of your last encounter flickering behind his eyes. You lean back in your chair, a slow grin spreading across your face. "At least a hundred," you say, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Starting with the toxic load you shot up my ass last time I was here…" The air in the room crackles. A muscle in his jaw tightens, almost imperceptibly. He looks away for a fraction of a second, a telltale sign of the man behind the mask struggling to maintain his composure. He clears his throat, the sound a little too loud in the quiet office. "Alright," he says, his voice a shade rougher than before. He stands and moves to the supply cabinet, retrieving the test kit. His movements are efficient, practiced, but as he turns his back to you, you know he is taking a moment to breathe, to force the memory of your submission, of his own raw, primal release, back into the box labeled 'unprofessional.' He returns, his face once again a mask of clinical detachment. He takes your hand, his fingers cool and firm, but you feel the slightest tremor in them as he draws the blood sample he needs. He places it carefully on the test strip, then sets a timer on his desk. "We'll do a rapid test for some immediate peace of mind, and I'll send this other sample to the lab for the full serology." "Wait outside for the results," he instructs, his voice cool and measured, but there is an underlying tension that betrays his true feelings. He is a doctor trying to do his job, but he is also a man who has spent the last few weeks replaying the memory of breeding you, a man whose cock has hardened at the mere thought of you walking back into his office. And now, here you are. You make your way back to the waiting room, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. You sit, trying to appear calm, but your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and memories. As you wait, you find yourself checking out the other patients, the tension in the room palpable. One young guy, in particular, catches your eye. He is lean and muscular, with a cocky smirk that promises trouble. He couldn't be much older than twenty, maybe twenty-two at most, a student or an apprentice, his body still tight and unmarked by the world. He is everything you aren't: young, carefree, and probably still thinks he is invincible. The thought sends a dark, possessive thrill through you. You could be his father. The idea is so wrong, so perfectly depraved, that your own cock begins to stir in response. His gaze is a physical thing, a slow, deliberate slide down from your face to your crotch, where it lingers, hot and heavy. You watch, mesmerized, as his own hand moves to his thigh, his fingers slowly tracing the thick outline of his semi-hard cock snaking down his pant leg. He gives it a firm, possessive stroke, his eyes never leaving yours. It isn't just a look; it's a promise, a filthy invitation spoken without a single word. He is showing you what he has, what he wants to do with it, and he is making it clear that he wants to do it with you. His eyes flick back up to meet yours, a challenge and a question in their depths. He licks his lips slowly, a deliberate, wet gesture, and then, with a confident swagger, he stands up and walks directly past you towards the bathroom, leaving a trail of pure, unadulterated intent in his wake. You can feel the heat radiating from his body as he passes, a silent, electric current that arcs between you, pulling you in. You know, with a certainty that settles deep in your gut, that you will follow him. You have no choice. Your heart races as you follow him, the anticipation building with each step. The bathroom is empty, the air thick with the smell of disinfectant and anticipation. He is already in the last stall, the door left slightly ajar. You push it open and step inside. He is exactly as you'd hoped. He is leaning against the wall, his jeans already undone and pushed down just enough to free his cock. It is hard and ready, a thick, angry-looking shaft jutting out from a neatly trimmed patch of dark hair. He is a top, pure and simple, and he is here to fuck. For a fleeting moment, a memory flashes in your mind: another young man, another student, in this very same stall, fucking you under the divider. You wonder if this is becoming a habit, if this clinic is now your personal hunting ground for eager, young tops. He doesn't waste any time on words. He just grabs your arm, his grip firm and possessive, and spins you around. He bends you over the toilet, your hands braced against the cold, porcelain tank. You feel him move behind you, the heat of his body a stark contrast to the chill of the air on your exposed skin. He kicks your feet apart, spreading your legs, and then you feel the hot, spongy head of his cock pressing against your hole. He looks so innocent, so young, and for a second, a twisted sense of responsibility washes over you. You think you should protect him. "Don't you want to use a rubber?" you ask, your voice a little breathless. "Hell no!" he grunts, his voice a low growl of pure disdain for the very idea. "We're at an STD clinic..." you start, the irony of the situation not lost on you. "Correct," he says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. "Just got my diagnosis." Your heart hammers against your ribs. "Neg?" you ask, a sliver of hope cutting through your arousal. "Nope. Not anymore," he says, and the words hit you like a physical blow, a jolt of pure, unadulterated electricity that shoots straight to your cock. "You will be my first to breed after being diagnosed, daddy!" he groans against your ear, the words torn from him by pleasure, a perfect, filthy acknowledgment of the twisted dynamic between you. The last of your resistance crumbles. The fear is gone, replaced by a desperate, all-consuming hunger. "Breed me!" you beg, your voice a raw, desperate cry. "Breed me with your toxic load!" He doesn't need any more encouragement. With a groan, he slams into you in one brutal, satisfying stroke. The burn is immediate, but it is a welcome pain, a sign of the gift you are about to receive. He fucks you with a relentless, primal rhythm, his hips slapping against your ass, his hands gripping your hips like a vise. He is a young man, but he fucks like an animal, driven by a single, desperate need to pass on his new, permanent status. And you are more than willing to be the recipient. With a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep and grunts, his body shuddering as he empties himself inside you. He stays there for a moment, panting, then pulls out with a wet, obscene sound. Without a single word, he tucks his spent cock back into his pants, buckles his belt, and pushes past you out of the stall, leaving you dripping and used. You are just a hole to him, a means to an end, and the thought is both humiliating and intensely arousing. As you are pulling up your own jeans, the stall door creaks open. You freeze. It is Dr. Meyer. He is leaning against the doorframe, his posture trying for casual authority but failing. He is so young, his face still holding a boyish softness that his professional demeanor can't quite hide. The scene is sickeningly familiar—it is just like last time, when he found you on the floor of this very bathroom, dripping with another man's cum. His eyes, dark and intense, flick from your flushed face to the young guy's retreating back, then back to you. A slow, predatory smile spreads across his lips, but it is the smile of a young man playing a role, a cub trying on a lion's mane. He knows exactly what he has just interrupted. "I see you've been busy," he says, his voice a low rumble he is clearly forcing to be deeper than it naturally is. "Let's go to my office." He doesn't wait for an answer, just turns and walks, expecting you to follow, a clear assertion of his dominance in this situation. Back in the sterile quiet of his office, he gestures for you to sit. You comply, your heart still racing from the encounter, the young man's load a warm, heavy presence inside you. He picks up the test strip from his desk, the one with your drop of blood on it. He looks at it, then at you. "Your test result is clear. Still negative," he says, his voice tinged with a surprise that is almost mocking. "I must admit, I'm surprised. I thought... after last time..." You look up at him, your eyes meeting his. "What do you mean?" you ask, your voice cocky, steady, teasing him, his professionalism. He leans back in his chair, trying to project a relaxed confidence, but you can see the tension in his shoulders. "I mean, after what happened between us, I thought for sure you would have converted. I guess you've been taking other… risks, haven't you?" he asks, his voice laced with a curiosity that is both professional and deeply, unnervingly personal. He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. It is a smug, youthful expression. You shift in your seat, feeling the load in your ass slowly leak out, a dark thrill running through you at his clinical, detached analysis. "Unprotected sex, multiple partners... you know the drill," you reply, matching his confident tone. He is enjoying this. "Given that kind of activity, we should do a full workup. Since you're here. Drop your pants and bend over the exam table." His tone is clinical, but his eyes are anything but. This isn't a suggestion; it's a command. You comply, unbuckling your jeans and letting them fall before leaning over the cold, crinkling paper of the exam table. You feel his fingers on your ass, spreading your cheeks. The cool air hits your exposed, wet hole. You notice then that his fingers are bare, ungloved, a direct violation of protocol that sends a jolt through you. But he doesn't go straight for your hole. Instead, he begins a methodical, humiliatingly thorough examination. "Alright, let's have a proper look," he says, his voice adopting the detached tone of a doctor dictating notes. "Genitalia appear normal, no visible lesions." He reaches between your legs from behind, his hand cupping your balls, lifting and weighing them. He squeezes them, a firm, possessive pressure that makes you gasp. "Testes are heavy, full. Looks like they're not drained often enough. How often do you masturbate?" "Once, twice," you manage, your voice tight. He chuckles, a low, dismissive sound. "Only twice?“ He pauses, his grip tightening slightly. "When was the last time you blew your load into another hole?" "Last night," you grunt. "Only last night?" he asks, the sound dripping with condescension. "You're letting all this build up. No wonder you're so desperate. I have to empty mine at least three times a day just to think straight. Yours feel like they're backing up." His fingers move to your cock, which is already hard and leaking precum onto the paper. He strokes it once, slowly, from base to tip, collecting the bead of fluid on his thumb. "Well, the function of your cock does not seem to be the problem," he comments dryly. "Penis is approximately eighteen centimeters in length... 5 cm short of mine, but still, a notable girth, especially at the base. Cut. Significant vascularity." He pauses, a smirk in his voice. "Not a bad size, I suppose. For a man your age." His fingers then find your PA, the heavy steel ring a familiar weight in his grasp. He tugs on it, rolling it. "Any issues with this? Nice size. A 00-gauge tribal dream ring, if I'm not mistaken. Can cause some serious damage... ever thought about upgrading to an even larger size?" You can only moan in response, your body betraying you, loving the clinical violation. "I'm surprised you don't have a PA to match your nipple piercings. Or are you all talk?" "I'm uncut," he continues, his voice a low, arrogant boast. "I don't need jewelry to make my cock interesting. The foreskin alone provides more sensation than that little piece of metal ever could." He moved back to your ass, his thumbs spreading your cheeks again. "Anal region shows slight inflammation. Perineum is intact." He runs a finger along your perineum, then up to your slick entrance. "Now, cough for me," he commands. You do as he says, and as you cough, your hole contracts, pushing out a small glob of cum. "Hmm," he murmurs, his voice a low, interested hum. "Evidence of recent ejaculate present." He doesn't just use one finger. He presses three, then four fingers against your hole, stretching you, making you gasp. "Sphincter tone is good, but extremely receptive. How many loads have you taken today? Just the one in the bathroom, or more?" "I made a stop at the cruising grounds on my way up here.... 3-4 more from there...." you confess, the words torn from you by the intense stimulation. He chuckles, a dark, satisfied sound. With his four fingers still inside you, he uses them like a scoop, digging into your channel and pulling out a large, milky wad of cum that drips down his wrist. "Very, very receptive," he murmurs, bringing his cum-coated hand up to the light. "Look at this!" his voice a perfect imitation of clinical curiosity. He brings his fingers to his own lips, his eyes locked on yours over his shoulder. He slowly, deliberately licks the cum from his fingers, a soft, wet sound in the quiet room. "Fresh. Very fresh. I guess that's the spunk from our young student. I just told him he's poz and that he should use rubbers until the meds have his VL under control… so much for my skills as a counselor. Did he at least tell you what he was getting you into?" "Hell, yeah – he did," you shoot back, a defiant pride in your voice. "And I begged for it!" He puts his fingers, still slick with his saliva and the young man's cum, up to your mouth and, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, says, "Clean it!" You obey, tasting the mingled flavors on his skin. He then grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Well, you know what? Something has changed," he says, his voice dropping to a low growl. "I used to think of you as just another patient. But seeing you like this....” He is no longer talking about your test results; he is talking about himself, about the wall of his professionalism finally crumbling under the weight of his desire. "You see this?" He grabs his stiff cock through his scrubs, his eyes never leaving yours. The gesture is aggressive, a raw display of the dominant top he is discovering himself to be. "I'm hard just thinking about it. My viral load is high right now, you know. Very potent. I'm hard just thinking about shooting that toxic load deep into your ass and finally giving you what you've been begging for." He leans in closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "This isn't the place for this conversation. But tonight... meet me at the gay bar down the street at 7. We can have a drink and talk. Properly." He releases your chin and steps back, his professional mask sliding back into place, though the fire in his eyes remains. "And maybe, just maybe, we'll come up with a solution to your problem." You leave the clinic, your mind racing with thoughts of the upcoming meeting.

I am a bottom dad for my son.

I started doing this last year. I try to jack off into the jar half the time. Mostly cause tops usually like a cumdump to already be preloaded. So it’s a good way to live up my hole and I can post on Sniffies that I’ve already taken a few loads. Plus when I shove the frozen cubes they melt and the I can taste it and be feral when tops arrive.

My wife knows, and encourages, my extracurricular activities, and a few of her friends know about the things I do. Now I have met 2 random/anonymous men on grindr that I ended up knowing when I showed up take care of business. So obviously they also know.

This is really some of the best bb porn I’ve seen in awhile. So much cock and cum action. Definitely some hot stroke off material.

I thought rush be free would calm down , but in last 37 hrs i have swallowed 6 loads from married guys😜

My Dad spooged in my mom on the same day I was born sooooo... Then.

Always anal for me, and I can still taste his cum after he pulls out and I oblige by cleaning off his dick. I even will finger myself and taste it from my ass after he’s done. Love it after I’ve had multiple loads and taste the mix of sperm from the random tops that have used my ass

Need more of this story, it's fucking hot.

Anal🥴

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