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I’ve had a few awesome 1-top-2-bottoms threesomes, and the biggest game-changer was making sure we all talked beforehand about limits, what we each liked, and pacing. One time, we took inspiration from phim sex việt nam scenes that had similar setups—really helped us sync up better and made it hotter. Communication and a sense of humor can turn something decent into something unforgettable.

Update for anyone heading to Maspalomas these days: 1. Dunes: still some action during the day, but somehow in the 4 days I went by there weren't too many people. Lots of wankers and watchers, but action seems to be less intense than in previous years. 2. Factory: always good. many people and lots of action. definitely my favourite. good mix of ages, tops and bottoms, with lots of action happening everywhere. a definite 9/10. 3. Zoo. good between 10:30 and 01:00. then the crowd thins out and mostly bottoms stay in hope of a last load. The most uncomfortable slings and more 1-1 action rather than group. Very clean and diverse clientele although many do come to socialise and only occasionally have sex. 7/10 4. Strong Construction. Always packed, dirty toilets, lots of Stand & Model, many OF making vids. Dark areas will get you some action, but way too crowded and everyone looking for the elusive 25cm black top who shoots gallons. 5/10 5. Reds. More laid back smaller club, but clean and mostly men over 45-50. But you get more action and fucks and loads than at Construction. Great terrace for smokers and if you are exhibitionist and like to fuck or be fucked whilst others are watching, then this is a place for you. Even on the smoking terrace, men wank openly, suck and fuck with no worries. A good 8/10 6. Noxon. Mostly for puppies and piss lovers. Good mix, depending on the night. Early bar so pretty much all dies down around midnight. They do have themed parties (Load and Breed ), but can be a hit and miss depending on the night. I find drinks to be a bit on the pricey side but a good option. 7/10 7. Tom's bar. Small and mostly socialising for bears and leather. You can get some action although it's not the main attraction. If you like bears and leather, this can be your place to meet others. For me.... 5/10 8. Cruise bar. Lots of mature men, mostly with clothes on. Lots of looks and buttslapping, but action is on a low side. If you like 50+ daddies type this is a good place to be. Note however to watch for your valuables. As many people go dressed you need to keep an eye on your phone and wallet. Needless to say that thiefs and pickpockets don't care about your sexual orientation. my rating: 4/10

So.... excellent story. I rarely do it, but it deserves a comment. First of all, the things that work. It is well written. Some typos here and there, but it is generally flowing and an appreciable lexicon. I particularly enjoyed the firat half, and I noticed a couple of attempts at adjusting tone and words to reflect the characters speaking. I also definitely liked the setting and the fact that you had a reasonable idea of the conclusion since the beginning and you did not stray away. Honestly, I think you have potential in improving characterization. I felt most of them to be rather flat. Everybody (butthe obvious villain) is helpful and cheerful and honest and successful and happy. I definitely enjoy reading about positive charachters, but probably getting them to have some flaws would make them more unique and human, and add tension to the plot. I probably would have added some more doubts, fears, errors and regrets, especially on Jacob's side. Also, i missed a little bit on a conclusion to Jac's relationship with his family Anyway, impressive work. I enjoyed it thoroughfully, especially the first half

@tobetrained I already made myself clear and yet, you persist. You are going to take whatever faulty position you choose. Nothing I write is going to change that. And I've already made myself clear, I don't give a crap what you think or say. We're done here dude...

I couldn’t agree more, I want to know every inch of a cock, balls and all that area around there! Mmmm

I hate getting throat fucked in any position, I'd much rather savor a guys cock and balls. LOVE running my tongue and mouth all over a guy, at my choice, take him down my throat. Rather slowly edge and worship a guy than have his cock pouding my throat. But if a guy wants to throat fuck me head off the bed is by far the best.

I'd love to wear a mask and get fucked for someones OF or other content. Other than that, I've never worn a mask to conceal identity. Being fucked blindfolded as a cum dump is a bucket list item, more for my enjoyment not knowing what type of guy is using me, more than concealing identiy.

For most, the face is usually that subconscious; split-second decider as to whether a guy is hot or not, but that overlooks the impact of a person's personality. A guy might not be 'a looker' facially, but if he acts or speaks in a certain way, that can also appeal (again sub-consciously) to you. Whether to mask isn't an issue is to me since almost my entire sex life has revolved around the fetish scene where masks and hoods are common, but not compulsory (unless you're doing an anonymous scene naturally). As someone who wears glasses (but can't abide the thought of contacts), I totally understand the practical limitations that there can be (especially for anyone who slams). I'm lucky in that I can dispense with my specs when having sex but its an issue I've pondered should my eyesight decline. Consequently, I have kept the lenses from my old glasses, and intend to creating a soft 'lone ranger' style mask (probably from lycra), into which the lenses can be slotted (held in place like the padding around the speakers on a set of head phones). Something which I have found works very well, is using camo-face paint on any flesh still visible when wearing a full or half mask. When wearing a mask of the same colour (always black in my case) and blacking around the eyes, don't forget the eyelids. You can do the same around your mouth too. This merges the mask to your body and it looks as though its part of you, especially if you're wearing a full rubber or lycra bodysuit. I got mine my inexpensive face-stick from Anchor Supplies in Nottingham (UK) - a great place for fetish gear including second hand clothing and accessories from the army; navy; police; security etc. You can get a complete uniform if you're lucky with the sizes available when you visit. The downsides are that the paint can rub off on any surface it touches and also requires a little effort with soap and water to remove. Finally, there is the issue of forgetting you have it on. I took my dog for a walk after a session one night. It was about 2am so hardly anyone around, but we did see one guy and I wondered why he had appeared to stare at me, as we passed him. It was only as I took my coat off at home and I happened to glance in the mirror, that I realised I still had two large black panda eyes! Opps! te...he.....!

Greg's pulse raced as he stepped into the sprawling backyard of the older man's house, the scent of sizzling sausages and beer mingling with the sharp tang of chlorine from the nearby pool. He'd met the host Victor just hours earlier in a dingy public toilet stall off the main drag, where Victor's thick fingers had pinned him against the graffiti-scratched wall while his cock plunged deep into Greg's eager hole. 'Come to my Melbourne Cup BBQ,' Victor had grunted mid-thrust, breath hot against Greg's neck. 'Bring that tight ass.' Greg, always up for more, had nodded, cum still leaking down his thighs as he pulled up his jeans. Now, under the Australian sun, the party buzzed with about a dozen men milling around, laughter booming over the clink of glasses. Greg didn't recognize a soul, his stomach twisting with that mix of nerves and excitement. He grabbed a scotch and coke from the cooler, the burn of liquor steadying him as he sipped, eyes darting over the crowd. Victor clapped him on the shoulder, haded him a shot and introducing him vaguely before vanishing into his guests. Another drink in, Greg felt the warmth spread, loosening his limbs. He wandered toward the edge of the yard, where a sturdy metal frame caught his eye—a sex swing, suspended from a reinforced beam on the patio, its leather straps swaying gently in the breeze. Leaning against the frame was a massive bear of a man: broad-chested, hairy as fuck, with a gut that strained his tank top and thighs like tree trunks in cargo shorts. His beard was thick and salt-and-pepper, eyes locking onto Greg with a predatory gleam. 'First time here?' the bear rumbled, voice deep enough to vibrate through Greg's chest. He extended a meaty hand. 'Name's Hank. You look like you could use some company.' Greg shook it, the grip firm and lingering. 'Greg. Yeah, just got invited by Victor. Don't know anyone else.' They chatted easily—about the race, the drinks, the heat—Hank's gaze dropping pointedly to Greg's crotch more than once. The scotch flowed, Greg's third now, blurring the edges of his caution. Hank's hand brushed his arm, then rested on his lower back, thumb circling teasingly. Suddenly, Victor's voice boomed over the speakers. 'Lads! Race is starting in five! Get ready!' A flurry erupted—shirts yanked off, shorts dropping to ankles. Men stripped down to nothing or jockstraps that framed bulging packages and furry asses. Cocks swung free, half-hard already, the air thick with musk and anticipation. Greg blinked, arousal hitting him like a freight train as naked bodies pressed close, hands groping freely. Hank grinned, stripping off his tank to reveal a forest of dark hair across his pecs and belly. 'Your turn, boy.' Before Greg could process, hands—Hank's and others—tugged at his clothes. Shirt gone, jeans shoved down, his own cock springing out, already leaking. They left him in his briefs, but Hank ripped those off too, leaving Greg bare and exposed. 'Into the sling,' Victor ordered, appearing with a wink. Greg's heart hammered as strong arms lifted him, settling his back against the padded support. Straps buckled around his thighs, spreading his legs wide, ankles hooked high. His ass hung open, hole twitching in the cool air, balls dangling vulnerably. The position arched his back, cock pointing skyward, pre-cum dribbling down the shaft. Hank dropped to his knees between Greg's splayed legs, face diving in without preamble. His beard scraped Greg's inner thighs as his tongue lapped broad and flat over Greg's hole, circling the rim before spearing inside. Greg gasped, head falling back, the wet heat of Hank's mouth devouring him. The bear ate ass like a starving man—sucking, probing, tongue-fucking deep while the TV blared the pre-race hype. Guests gathered, stroking themselves, murmurs of approval as Hank's saliva slicked Greg's crack, dripping down to his taint. The announcer's voice crackled: 'And they're into the gates!' Tension built, the crowd hushing. Hank pulled back, wiping his mouth, his own cock now free— a fat, uncut monster, veined and throbbing, at least nine inches of girth. He spat into his palm, slicking the head, eyes locked on Greg's. Gates clanged shut on screen. 'They're off!' the commentator yelled. Hank surged up, gripping Greg's hips, and rammed forward. No warning, no tease—his raw cock breached Greg's rim in one brutal shove, sinking balls-deep into the spit-lubed heat. Greg's cry echoed, the stretch burning fierce as Hank's girth split him open, pubes grinding against his ass. The bear didn't ease in; he pounded immediately, hips pistoning with ferocious speed, each thrust slamming home like a jackhammer. The race blurred on the TV—horses thundering, crowd roaring—but Greg's world was Hank's relentless fuck. The sling rocked with the force, chains rattling, Greg's body jolting forward on every plunge. Hank's balls slapped wetly against his cheeks, the raw friction dragging over his prostate, sparks exploding behind his eyes. 'Take it, you slut,' Hank growled, sweat beading on his hairy chest, one hand pinning Greg's thigh wider. The pace was merciless, Hank's grunts syncing with the announcer's calls—'He's out in front, by a mile, leading the pack!'—but Greg could only moan, hole clenching around the invading shaft, milking it greedily. His cock bounced untouched, leaking steadily, the public display heightening every sensation as eyes watched, cocks jerked. 'Photo finish!' The horses crossed the line, cheers erupting. Hank roared, burying deep and unloading—hot jets of cum flooding Greg's guts, pulsing thick and endless. The warmth spread, Hank grinding to wring out every drop before pulling out with a obscene squelch, seed oozing from Greg's gaping hole. No pause. A second man—lean, tattooed, jockstrap discarded—stepped up, cock rigid and dripping. He thrust in raw, using Hank's load as lube, fucking fast and shallow, hips blurring. Greg whimpered, overstimulated, ass slurping around the new intrusion. The man lasted barely a minute, groaning as he added his load, cum mixing and bubbling out. Third was quicker—a stocky guy with a pierced dick, shoving in without a word. He hammered erratically, the metal barbell scraping Greg's walls, before stiffening and pumping his release deep, grunting satisfaction. Panting, spent, Greg hung limp in the sling, hole wrecked and leaking a creamy trail down his crack. Victor helped lower his legs and climb out gently, helping him to his feet on wobbly legs. 'Welcome to the annual raw BBQ,' Victor said with a grin, clapping his shoulder. 'We are all POZ, fuck bare, share our DNA, keep the fun going. No loads wasted here.' Laughter rippled through the group, hands patting Greg's ass as invitations for more lingered in their eyes. Greg looked confused for a few moments as if trying to understand what Victor said. Greg's legs trembled as Victor steadied him, the slick mess from his ass trickling down his thighs, mixing with sweat under the relentless sun. The party's energy hadn't dimmed; naked bodies roamed freely, cocks still twitching from the race's excitement, the air heavy with the scent of cum and grilled meat. A few guys shot Greg appreciative nods, their eyes lingering on his reddened bum where the slings leather had pressed. One of them—a wiry guy in his forties with a shaved head and a tribal tattoo snaking down his arm—sidled up, bottle of beer in one hand and a small brown vial in the other. 'Hey' he said, voice gravelly from years of smokes. 'You look like you could use a hit .' He popped the cap, the sharp, chemical whiff hitting Greg's nose before he could react. Amyl nitrate—poppers. Nick pressed it under Greg's nostril. 'Inhale deep, mate. It'll make that ass sing.' Greg hesitated, but the post-fuck haze and the scotch buzzing in his veins won out. He sniffed hard, the fumes rushing up like fire, exploding in his brain. Heat bloomed in his chest, then lower, his hole clenching involuntarily around the emptiness, craving more. His vision sharpened, colors vivid, every nerve ending igniting. Suddenly, the world felt electric—cocks everywhere looked thicker, asses rounder, the need to get filled overwhelming. His resolve was crumbling under the rush, body arching toward anyone who glanced his way. Nick grinned, handing the vial away. 'That's it. Now, let's get you wet.' He grabbed Greg's wrist, pulling him toward the pool's edge where a cluster of men lounged on towels, stroking lazily. Without warning, Nick spun Greg around, shoving him to his knees on the warm concrete. 'Open up,' he was already bare, his semi-hard dick flopping out, foreskin peeled back to reveal a glistening head. Greg's mouth watered from the poppers' high, and he parted his lips instinctively. But Nick aimed lower, gripping his shaft and unleashing a hot stream of piss right onto Greg's chest. The acrid warmth splashed over his pecs, running in rivulets down his abs, soaking his pubes and dripping off his balls. Greg gasped, the humiliation twisting into thrill, his cock hardening fully as the urine hit his skin. Nick adjusted, pissing directly into Greg's open mouth—salty, bitter fluid flooding his tongue, forcing him to swallow or choke. Some spilled out, streaking his chin, while others at the party cheered, a couple joining in to add their streams, drenching Greg from head to toe in a golden shower. Soaked and reeking, Greg knelt there, the poppers keeping him pliant, eager. His hand wrapped around his own dick, jerking slowly as the piss pooled around his knees. Nick shook off the last drops onto Greg's face, then hauled him up by the armpits. 'Good boy. Now to the sling—more loads waiting.' They maneuvered Greg back to the sex swing, he climbed in willingly this time, legs spreading wide as straps secured him again, ass presented like an offering. The first of the two—a burly redhead with a beer gut and a thick, curved cock—didn't waste time. He hawked a glob of spit onto Greg's piss-slick hole and drove in raw, the slide easy from the cum already coating his insides. The redhead gripped the swing's chains for leverage, pulling Greg onto his dick with each thrust, balls slapping wetly. Greg moaned loud, the poppers amplifying every ridge and vein dragging inside him, his prostate throbbing under the assault. The redhead fucked steady, grunting with effort, sweat flying as he bottomed out repeatedly. Greg's body rocked, piss drying crusty on his skin, the degradation fueling his slutty haze. After a dozen deep pumps, the man tensed, slamming home and flooding Greg's guts with another hot load, cum churning with the previous deposits, leaking out in frothy white drops. Barely catching his breath, the second bloke stepped up—a lean guy with a trimmed beard and a long, straight cock that curved upward. He rubbed the head along Greg's crack, smearing the mess, then plunged in with a slick pop. This one went slower at first, savoring the sloppy heat, hips rolling to grind deep. More amyl and greg's hole sucked him in greedily, muscles fluttering from the overload. The bloke picked up speed, hands on Greg's thighs, nails digging in as he hammered away, the swing creaking under the rhythm. Greg's mind floated, lost in the sensation, until the man buried himself and erupted—pulse after pulse of seed painting his walls, the warmth seeping deeper. As the guy pulled out, a gush of mixed cum poured from Greg's ass, splattering the ground below. Victor helped Greg down again, but this time, whispers rippled through the crowd. Someone had overheard Greg's earlier chat with Hank—'Don't know anyone else'—and pieced it together. 'Wait, he's neg?' a voice muttered. Heads turned, eyes widening, then narrowing with wicked intent. Victor paused, brow furrowing. 'You serious, mate? Thought you were one of us.' The group closed in, cocks stirring back to life, a mix of surprise and opportunity lighting their faces. 'Well, fuck it,' Victor said, clapping Greg on the back. 'Looks like we've started your conversion party. No backing out now—you've already got four loads of poz cum swimming in that hole.' Greg's eyes widened, the poppers' fog parting just enough for reality to crash in. Poz? The word hit like a gut punch. He'd taken raw loads from strangers, bareback in the sling, and now... his ass clenched, feeling the fullness, the risk sinking in. Panic flickered, but the fumes lingered, dulling the fear, stirring a dark curiosity instead. These men, all carrying the virus, had marked him inside, their DNA mixing in his guts. The guests didn't give him time to dwell. 'Resolve's fading already,' Hank rumbled, stepping forward with his cock half-hard again. 'You're turning into our cum slut, boy. Embrace it.' Hands guided Greg to a table, bending him over the edge, ass up. His protests died unspoken as the first volunteer—a silver-haired daddy type—mounted him from behind, sliding into the cum-lubed channel with ease. He fucked deliberate and deep, whispering encouragements: 'Take our gift, convert for the party.' One by one, they lined up, each thrusting home raw, adding their loads to the breeding pool. Greg's body betrayed him, hips pushing back, moans escaping as pleasure overrode dread. Cum sloshed inside with every new cock, overflowing down his legs, marking him thoroughly. By the fifth or sixth, his resolve shattered completely—he begged for more, hole gaping and hungry, fully surrendered to becoming their poz cum dump. The BBQ stretched into the afternoon, Greg at the center, passed around like the main course, his transformation sealed in sweat, piss, and seed. Hope you all like it.

The guy I'm talking to just now has posted a metal cage to my home and I'm wearing it right now. Feels very good

The path we walk on this journey is always a deeply personal one. There is no right, wrong, left, right, up or down direction. The path changes with the journey itself and we all encounter different situations along the way which sometimes change the direction of the path. Someone at the age of 20 will have a different path than someone at 35, 50 or 60. What your are describing @homosapiens is your journey until now and you reached a point when you need to decide what's best for you. Bear in mind that personal circumstances determine your future path: age, general health considerations, career, family, friends, environment, etc. Since I tested HIV+ many decades ago I made a conscious decision not to take any meds. I was in my late 20s and I was clinically healthy. And so I saw no reason to infuse myself with medication which was, at that time, having more negative side effects than positive. And I also decided to take better care of myself: more fitness, better diet, avoid as much as possible anything that would knowingly harm me. It's been now close to three decades and while I do carry the virus I managed to stay healthy. Except of the VL which goes up and down with every test, everything else checks out just fine. I have had hundreds if not thousands of of sexual partners along the way. Each and every one of them was duly informed that I am HIV+, that I don't take any medication, and that I am most likely infectious. Even at bathhouses, saunas or sex clubs, I make sure I whisper in the ear of anyone who comes in contact with me that I am poz and likely infectious. I had a huge number of rejections, of course. But I was always upfront and honest. Even now, in the age of PrEP, I let the others know that I am poz. In a dark room, it only takes me a few moments to quickly turn around and let the guy fucking me that I am poz and not on meds (I learned that in a few languages too LOL). And so I leave it to the other guy to decide for himself. No pressure, no expectations, no lies. Now, back to your original thoughts... How will you manage going forward? It is up to you and your personal context. Everyone will tell you their story and their actions, but none will match your own experience, past and future. Science tells us that PrEP is the way to go now. If you are comfortable with it, and if you're healthy with no obvious side effects, staying on PrEP and being neg is a good thing. It carries less stigma, less paperwork, allows you to travel freely and reduces the visits to the doctors. Removes the need to explain, disclose, and justify and gets you pretty much the same quality of life the majority of men enjoy. If your mind demands sex without PrEP, then you need to evaluate the risks and be very practical about the consequences. But, as I said, the path you choose is different for everyone and deeply personal. You need to ask yourself a few questions to determine the reason for your decision but in the end YOU need to be happy and deal with the decision. What people put on their profile and what is going on in reality... there's a significant difference. I personally made a (somewhat) informed decision decades ago and to this day I stand by my decision. Living carefree and letting the nature runs its course is a personal choice that cannot be translated to someone else's life. And feelings of 'sex is so much better without PrEP' may be temporary, while the virus stays with you for life. YOU are the one who needs to determine if the risk is worth it or not. And as I said in the beginning, we all have a different path which also changes with age and context. And as for certainty you seek to reassure yourself that many men are on PrEP and the risk is low... Nobody can give you an answer with absolute certainty. PrEP works for the overwhelming majority who take the pill religiously. And most likely works for you too, so it all depends if the urge is just mental and borne out of a fantasy, or if you are tired of PrEP and something inside you tells you to stop and live as you wish. We are all products of our desires in all respects: money, love, health, kinks, comfort, etc. You just need to figure out how would your life unfold if you stop prep and somehow test poz. If you are content with the outcome or not, it's up to you to decide. As an anecdote, in early 2000s I met a French guy who tested poz in the late 80s. He is now close to 70. He has never been on meds and lives a full life, clinically healthy and content. And I met many people who took their meds religiously but were overwhelmed by other illness. One or two cases are just a drop in the sea. My point is that we all want to be happy, young and full of vitality and carefree. But unprotected sex is not the only risk in life but one that you can minimise and remove the hassle of additional headaches... And just to be super clear for anyone who reads this comment and thinks that I somehow advocate on not being on meds if you're poz as being a good thing, this is definitely not the point. I am only saying that in the context of OP's wonderings, we should only do what's in the best interest of yourself, and caring for others' wellbeing too. PrEP or no PreP, condoms or not, it is up to you my dear @homosapiens and the partners you enjoy with.

My hole 🤭

I’m not a big fan of porn ( I know, it is not the norm right?) but I do see it playing when I am in the bath house or video booth. The biggest turn off for me is that it’s not the sex I have. Most of it seems to be white washed so to speak. It’s also not realistic it that it’s rare to have a top breed me for 30 minutes non stop. lol I will say that some of the amateur porn is getting closer to reality for me.

This stunning tower of man muscle has been all over my Twitter feed suddenly. I'd give both my neg nuts to get his DNA Anyone have important details about him? Does he have any gifts to share? And can we be so lucky for him to be a hard core party breeder.

Anyone message me for extreme insight into my dad tele manchesterbeeboy

This! Sometimes in the mood for anon + sling and you can’t really get that at a club unless you go 🙈!!!! 😈😈😈 Oops! Forgot to comment on OP: also like porn at bathhouse. Helps set the entire mood/atmosphere, imho. But I also like porn outside of bathhouse too.