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Twink hosting in Santa Monica 415-683-0386 tell me you're from Breeding Zone so i know

Just had to say it ❤️

I'd pay 50 for some fun like that💋

Well said, tobetrained. First, welcome to BZ. Secondly, thanks for that well-developed response to the subject. While you may need "training" in certain arts, well-constructed, well-reasoned composition is obviously not one of them.

Nice 👄

Well I don't drink or do drugs and everytime i think about being with a pozzed guy always makes me super horny for anything and everything 😁😁

Lack of conventional attractiveness, social awkwardness, autism spectrum, old age, infirmity, loss of mobility, some forms of disability. The TV show "Special" covered this in the context of Cerebral Palsy I think.

I've been to a fast food drive-thru twice with 4 fresh, wet loads on my face. I've walked through a mall a couple times with one visible load on my face and I've been to the grocery store a few times with either fresh cum visible on my face or multiple loads that had dried. It's definitely a big fantasy of mine someday to walk around in public with multiple, highly visible loads on my face. I especially want reactions from women.

Well, thanks for adding that concept. I hadn't considered that as an issue. What, in your estimation, would "can't" - in this context - apply to? Some disfigurement that would deter others? Something else?

10 loads Thursday and 16 more yesterday. I love harvesting cum at the bookstore. My 16th load was from a stranger through the gloryhole.

I need it sir please 😵

Great start!

During COVID, I was the chief of security at a Brooklyn homeless shelter—a festering shithole split into two buildings. One was crammed with your run-of-the-mill drifters and mild MICA (Mentally Impaired, Chemically Addicted) cases, and the other building is a story all to itself. Then came this Polish kid, 19, on conditional parole—shelter or back to prison. Six-three, short wavy blond hair, blue eyes piercing like ice. Shredded lean frame concealing a massive uncut Slavic cock. I know because he would walk down the hallways in worn-out basketball shorts, and the sun would cast a silhouette of his cock as he stumbled down the hallway. Patrolling the second-floor A-corridor became my favorite patrol for that view alone. During wellness checks before lunch, I'd catch him in bed, giggling, scratching his balls, reeking of K2. That monster would slip out of his shorts constantly—damn, it was a sight. When the George Floyd riots hit NYC, he joined the looting frenzy. He returned with fresh track marks riddling both arms. I asked, "What the hell happened?" He rambled about raiding stores, flipping the goods for cheap, scoring enough for a week-long hotel stay and heroin for him and his girlfriend. Boy, was he starting to itch, and I knew he was about to be involuntarily sent to a rehab by the director. So I told him he would most likely be going to rehab for a while since this place isn't equipped to deal with his withdrawals. He accepted that fate and basically knew that was in the cards for him. I said, "When you get out, I might have something for you." Puzzled, he asked what. I said, "Light work, off the books, something to help you out." Roughly two weeks later, he came back, and he wasn't a happy camper. The methadone eased his withdrawals, but he didn't care; he just wanted to go back out and get high again. (I know, no shit.) So I said, "I know a guy who might have some work as a personal assistant, a cash gig, something to put some money in your pocket." Knowing his P.O. (parole officer) was up his ass, it seemed like something better to do than hang out in the shelter all day. So I gave him the phone number and said he'll most likely have you move some boxes, shit like that. He said, "Cool," and thanked me. Little did I know, the guy, we'll call him Glenn, had other plans after they met. After the first day, I asked him, "Hey, how did it go?" He said, "He had me move some boxes and shit, easy stuff, you know." Thinking nothing of it, I went about my day as he went back out for another day of "work." A few weeks passed by, and I saw Glenn outside of the Boiler Room on East 4th Street and asked, "Hey, how is that kid working out for you?" He pulled out his phone and, with a guilty smirk, said, "See for yourself." The first video is of the boy showering in Glenn's bathroom, savoring the pressure, soaping his lanky frame, huge cock swinging freely. Aroused and wary of the ethics, I muttered, "Hotter than I imagined." My cock was throbbing as I sipped my beer, then he swiped left on his phone to another video of him jerking the kid off. Holy fuck, it was fucking hot. Just watching his facial reactions alone would have been enough, but fuck, that cock is nice. So naturally, I asked, "How did you manage to pull that off?" Glenn replied, "Simple, I gave him fifty bucks." My cock jumped and leaked precum even more when he put the third video on. There's Glenn sucking his cock while the boy is watching straight porn. Holy fuck, the way that boy's balls jumped when he blew his load is something I replay in my head whenever I need to get off in a hurry. Then Glenn puts on the fourth video of him eating the boy's ass out. His long slender legs are shaking as his cock is being edged with a tongue up his ass. God damn, Glenn is grooming this boy to be his fuck-boy. The load he shoots is nothing short of amazing, but the sounds he made are unforgettable. Completely transfixed on this collection of pure video gold, I looked at Glenn and asked, "You've got more, don't you?" His smirk could have been noticed by anyone on the block as he swiped left on his phone again. There, Glenn is bent over on his couch while the boy is just fucking him with his eyes closed. You can tell he hates this, but the money was obviously good enough. Glenn is holding his ass open, huffing on poppers, begging for that junkie's load. The boy didn't last long, but Glenn didn't care; he got what he wanted. The fifth video, I'm watching Glenn on the floor, and the boy looks fucked out of his mind, kinda dopey but definitely in an excited state. His eyes closed, fucking the shit out of Glenn, calling him a "stupid faggot" while not giving a fuck about him. Just using his ass like a cash machine, frantically pushing any button just for every dollar he can extract. Then Glenn swipes left again and shows me another angle of the same scene. Holy fuck, that boy has a huge cock. That, or the TV really does add 10 pounds. The length is impressive on its own, but the width is that of a prized porn star. Glenn might not be an Adonis himself, but in those videos, he's comparable to the hottest drugged-up twink being gang-fucked in a sex club you've ever seen. Happy as a pig in shit, Glenn buys me another beer and says, "If you have any other boys that need some work, let me know." I didn't feel so hot about the end result of my efforts, thinking some moral line had been crossed. When I thought about it, everyone was a consenting adult, no one was harmed, and in a weird way, I helped the homeless. Months later, after his P.O. eased off the monitoring, he went back to the smack after being made flush with cash. In the end, I was an unsuspecting pimp and, the boy's secret is safe with Glenn and I.

'Just a photo session' ... I love it. It's like 'just the tip'. I can't wait for the next installment of this excellent story!

I'm 64 and never sucked cock until a guy introduced me to chems and made me his sub a few years ago. Even then I didn't do it much (probably because most of my life I was a breeder who self-identified with being a top) until about two years ago, when I got higher at a party than I've ever been and suddenly couldn't get enough cock in my mouth. Discovered nothing turns me on more than blowing clouds on a hard cock or party dick and balls and worshipping them with my tongue and warm mouth. Today I'm a proud cocksucker.

Getting very interesting for sure. I am hoping the photo session leads to at least letting Randy put his bare dick in the ass. To get a picture of a bare dick in his ass. Once in I hope he will let him pump it for a while anyway.

Nice!

Starting to get interesting!

@meetme agreed. people do it for the titillation of risk -- but that's the issue: there's a downside to "risky", who knew? But to @topblkmale's original post, in general, no where in the convo or in public discourse is why this is targeting gay people. As a former New Yorker, when busing of migrants was a thing (from TX, etc), that area was a dumping ground and the hotel next door used to house some of those people. But around it, for a time, were many others illegal immigrants without accommodations. Penn Station is also still cover for many here illegally given the free services (e.g., bathrooms, public wifi, etc.). Activists sound alarms for anything -- it's how they justify their existence, make money, and grow their social media foot print. It doesn't make it true. Gay people may have been part of the roundup, but it doesn't make them a target for that reason.

Looking forward to more!

Over the next couple of weeks Darren's mind wandered back again and again to his BBRTS exchange with LoyalBrother. It was just a fantasy, he told himself. No harm in masturbating to it. Then one weekend afternoon he was online and up popped a message. "Your pics still suck," from him of course, "if you're not doing anything else, why not let me take some better ones?" Darren didn't immediately respond. He started typing a few times and then erased it. Finally he got out an, "I'm not sure if I should." "You can trust me not to do anything you don't want," LoyalBrother responded, "we could just do the pictures." Did he trust himself though? Well, if the ground rules were clear Darren thought he should be able to handle the situation. So he typed back, "In that case, I'm in." LoyalBrother sent his phone number so they could text logistics. When Darren texted back, he introduced himself as Randy and gave his address. "Give me an hour or so to set up the lights, and in the meantime give yourself a fresh manscape and work your ass open with a dildo so your hole is bigger for the camera," Randy instructed, and they left it there until the appointed time. Darren stood in front of the mirror, his freshly shaved balls and hole glistening under the harsh bathroom light. He gripped the dildo, slick with lube, and slid it deep inside himself, his eyes closing as he imagined Randy’s thick, raw cock stretching him open instead. His breath quickened with each thrust, his fantasies blurring the line between what was real and what was not. Just a photo session, he repeated to himself, but his hardening cock betrayed his thoughts. The dildo wasn’t enough—it wasn’t Randy, wasn’t the weight of his gaze, the smirk that promised more than just a camera lens. He worked the dildo in and out, his hole adjusting to the intrusion, his mind racing with images of Randy’s hands on him, guiding him, commanding him. The thought of Randy’s cock—thick, unwrapped, and real—sent a shiver through him. He thrust harder, his balls tightening as he teetered on the edge of orgasm. But he stopped himself, pulling the dildo out with a wet pop, his breath ragged. Not yet, he thought. After a quick shower, Darren resisted the urge to jerk off, wanting to stay rock-hard for Randy’s camera. He toweled off, his skin flushed, his cock throbbing with anticipation. Dressed in tight jeans and a form-fitting shirt, he checked himself in the mirror one last time, his heart pounding. Just a photo session, he reminded himself again, though the mantra felt flimsier with every passing moment.

Someone explain to me why, in major cities, Sniffies is still tracking men’s rooms. When there were no open places to meet we had to catch a men’s attention in a public bathroom. I haven’t played that listen for the double door game in 30 years. Move on.

I’ve been told by oversized Latin men that older men are also the best pussy. The stereotype in film is always older men infecting young horny bottoms. Better young men who can cum three or four times without blinking, get their friends together to inseminate older men with thirty or forty loads. That’s my idea of fun

I've noticed this trend being talked about a lot lately on local social media as well as arrests at other sniffies hot spots. "The bathroom is a hot spot on “cruising” apps like Sniffies, which men use to arrange public sexual encounters."