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The longest I suck on one cock was for about one and a half hour. We were watching twink/daddy porn, he was spent after work so I wanted to take care of his dick. When he was close, both from me sucking him and watching boys getting pounded by their daddies, I would stop to suck on his balls. He rewarded my efforts by shooting his tasty cum inside my waiting mouth.

my god, why do girls always spray pee so hard loud and really fast?

That's Hot! Someone here said they're going to the same event as me and I should be able to swap furniture.

Pullermanns is always a pleasure! Really always! Such nice people behind the counter! Your clothes will be capt in a big blue IKEA Shopping bag, you should put your mobile and your Money also into that bag. The owner of this venue, Hagen, will watch about you belongings very carefully. Enjoy Pullermanns. Don’t forget the bathhouses „Babylon“ and/or „Phoenix“. They are great.

I like small dicks, better plays

Nice start - and warming up accordingly

Gradually picking up steam. Getting hotter and hotter

10years ago a majority of guys asked for condoms (but when i présenter the hole tops were coming inside without talking about rubber). Now condoms, protection, safe are Word that i dont ear.

hope you have fully recovered from that journey

The comment above is from me. I joined this site because of this chat

All my life, I had grown up with my dad and his wife who I consider to be more of a mother than my actual one. As far as I can remember it was her who attended the PTA meetings. I only see my biological mom about 2 or 3 times a year. The times we do see each other, it’s as if I’m being summoned to carry out a familial obligation and for the most part, it’s just awkward silences and exchanges of “really, I didn’t know that” or “you didn’t tell me that”. I still give her the benefit of the doubt since she still reaches out. Plus, it’s not just her. It’s her husband Terrence or as people call him, Terry who I look forward to seeing more. I was 16 when I first met Terry. He was nothing like my dad. He never told a story without his hands cutting shapes in the air, like he was carving the memory into the room. Even a story about traffic sounded like a barroom tale when Terry told it, complete with exaggerated sighs and a grin that made you laugh before the punchline came. After a bottle or two, my ‘mom’ would tell me how she’s the luckiest person in the world to have Terry, even if their bolts and screws don’t really fit. I didn’t understand what she had meant. I presumed they were just drunk talk when I was a kid. Terry never treated me like I’m my ‘Mom’s’ son. If anything, he was the very few adults who’d ask me about my life and treated me as an equal. Even if we had dinners with more people around, Terry always made sure that I wasn’t left out. The year I turned 25, cancer latched onto my ‘Mom’. Stage III when she did her checkup. I saw her more often and in some ways, I saw more of Terry too. I wish I could say more about the whole ordeal, but there really isn’t much to say. Like I said, I barely saw ‘Mom’ and the times I do, I’m more fixated on her husband. It’s not strange that throughout their marriage, ‘Mom’ and Terrence chose to be child-free. It was a hill they’d die on. That year blurred into hospital visits and unanswered texts, and before I knew it, the year had turned again. Just shy of my 26th birthday, she gave in, and her ordeal came to an end. Most of us had expected it. I had forgotten much of the funeral - only the fact that Terry embraced me in a hug. I couldn’t hold it in and let my grievances out to him by diving into his arms. He was the only person I could cry to. Even with Dad I kept my guard up. Terry provided a different kind of comfort when he held me, reassuring me that this was all part of life. I can still feel the weight of his palm on my shoulder. If only it lasted longer. That day, he told me something that ‘Mom’ had never said. “We’re family, don’t forget that.” I was frequently referred to as the kid or a mistake with zero regrets, as my mom used to joke. It’s hard to feel any sort of sentimentality with her before her health started to deteriorate. She was the same age as dad but clearly not as mature as he was in guaranteeing my upbringing. Family. I took his words to heart. Since the funeral, we text more than we ever had. It was mostly to update each other. He was selling the house in Revere to have a fresh start while I had gotten a promotion that paid for a new car. For Christmas last year, Terry invited me to his new place for dinner. I told him that it shouldn’t be a problem since Mom and Dad were on a cruise while my younger half sister was on exchange. He then insisted that I stay for a few days if I had nobody in town. How could I say no? Initially, I had planned to stay for a night or two, but work gave me two weeks off. I was with Terry for both Christmas and New Year’s. My boss had also been pestering me to take my vacation so for 4 weeks I’m OOO. Terry told me to stay for a week when I shared this. “You’ll love it here. There’s so much to do and see. I’ll show you around. Take an actual break for once.” He was right. I needed to get out of the city. Terry had moved to the Berkshires. The town he lived in wasn’t far from Albany. It was a quiet, quaint place with a few B&Bs, New England clapboard houses, and antique stores that might or might not be open. The cottage he called home sat at the end of a dead-end road, up a small hill where, in December, the bare trees made it possible to see the road’s start from the porch. It was lit when I turned in, the only house with lights. There were other cottages along the way, likely just vacation homes. I had reached at the right time since it got dark a few minutes after I parked in the driveway. Christmas Eve was tomorrow and I would be back in the city the day after New Year’s. Until then, Terry’s cottage was where I could blow off some steam. I walked up to the porch with a duffel bag and saw that the place was well lit through the windows. I took a moment to examine the interior from outside before knocking. There were portraits hanging on the walls and mini sculptures scattered at certain corners. There’s no denying that Terry has a good eye for art. I pulled the wind chime hanging above the front door before I knocked. Not long after, he opened the door. Still the same Terry I knew. At 6’0, he stood straight with both hands on his waist, chest naturally upright. His hair had turned grey over the years but not a single strand had dropped from his head. At 48, he was 20 years older than me. His arms opened before his mouth did and I dove straight into him. It was the second time since the funeral. He asked if I had been working out, commenting how different I looked. My arms were bigger with my hips higher from the squats I’ve been doing. Terry’s one to say. Underneath his itchy red reindeer sweater, he was lean from decades of doing calisthenics. He’d show his flexibility as a party trick when I was young. The cottage was a single storey with 3 bedrooms and a basement. My bedroom faced the driveway while Terry’s was on the other end. I settled in by unpacking my things in the room. The decor was neat and modest. I folded some clothes and hung my shirt before placing them in the wardrobe. I even took out some books to place them on the bookshelf by the window. It was already filled halfway. I browsed through the piles—Penguin classics, self-help books, encyclopedias and, out of nowhere, a pile of Honcho magazines. Curiosity made me pick one out. On the cover was a man with a leather vest. Thick moustache. What was initially casual page flipping led me to being engrossed with the whole issue itself. Some pages made me hard. I went for another issue. This time it was more explicit. At the study table, I noticed a box of Kleenex next to the lamp. It seemed better to have it by the nightstand instead. A few flips of the second issue got me harder than the first. I found that it felt more intimate to rub one off this way than to go on the internet or open my phone. There was something more raw about these photos, and when I finally came, the relief I got felt more deserving. The load I released was more than usual. I was panting more too. I wasn’t sure if I had moaned. I rarely did that. The phone then buzzed. Terry said that dinner was ready. I wiped the jizz off my stomach and changed. Before I left the room, I noticed that the door had been slightly ajar. Odd. I never left my doors open. At the table, Terry had already sat with a glass of red. I let him pour me a glass after his offer. The dining table could’ve fit 6 people but it was only Terry and I seated across from each other at different ends. Terry in typical Terry fashion said that it’s good practice for us to enunciate our words and to project our voice, like aristocrats. I smirked. We weren’t actually that far apart and we still managed to hear each other and talk. Halfway through the pasta and on my 4th glass, I asked Terry why he had those magazines. “Because I like them. Don’t you?” I nodded, asking him in what way he liked it. “In every way, kiddo. Don’t play dumb now.” “What?” “Your Mom used to say…the bolts and screws didn’t fit” “But why then?” “Why not? She was my best friend and we wanted to save on taxes.” I didn’t want to bring up my dead mother during this time of the year. That would be too much of a cliché. “Cool. Do you…or have you…seen anybody since?” “I have some very great friends who aren’t too far from here. Great people. You’ll like them. They’ll be here for dinner tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind that it’ll be a sausage fest. Or maybe you won’t.” I proceeded to ask Terry more about his friends and the things he’s been up to. It wasn’t a shock that we lean the same way. What surprised me more was that I never had someone to show the ropes in dealing with it. The mascot that went around the school once a year for pride didn’t really help. But how would Terry even know? I brought a girl out to prom for senior year and I work in IT. The last guy I slept with, I met at a bar. The last actual relationship I had ended after I graduated. Terry told me that he’s sorry after I told him all of this. I replied that there was no need, I was just ranting and thinking out loud. It had been months since I had a proper OOO time to myself so I made the most out of it by letting my frustrations, be it professional or personal, be heard with an audience of one. “Don’t you ever feel shy about sharing how you feel. Let me make up for those lost times I should’ve been there.. I just hope you don’t blame me or your Mom. Well, maybe her, rest in peace. We had zero suspicions but then again, we were never really there.” I laughed and assured him that I’m just glad to have some time off and that I wasn’t pointing any fingers. He was blowing things out of proportion in his silly theatrical ways. I had another serving of pasta before Terry took out the dessert, a square tiramisu from the freezer. A bottle of Limoncello was opened and I lost track of the amount of glasses we gulped. The next thing I remembered was Terry adding more twigs and chopped logs into the fireplace before calling me to the leather couch. Terry was already on it, lying full length with his arms stretched out like he owned every inch of the leather. There was only a tiny space left at the edge, just enough for me to squeeze in. I would have overthought it on any other night, where to put my hands, how close to sit, but the alcohol had made that part of my brain lazy. I sank down beside him, shoulders brushing. The TV above the fireplace was playing The Polar Express, muted except for the crackle of the fire. Tom Hanks’ face flickered in the glow while Terry’s arm, warm and heavy, stayed behind me in a clasp. “I’ve always liked him in Philadelphia. Have you seen it?” “No, is it good?” “Quite so. What a time it was back then, in the worst way. These days, doctors would argue that they’d rather deal with patients who are positive than diabetic. In just 3 decades.” I got closer to Terry as I wasn’t sure if the tipsiness clouded my listening skills or his speech. Positive? “It’s time to tell you something kiddo. You’ve been honest with me the minute you stepped through the front door. If it weren’t for your mom, I wouldn’t have survived til this day. We got married because I needed to be insured. I remembered the day she insisted on it. You hadn’t turned 2 yet.. She had lost custody of you a few weeks prior and she was finding ways to fix her karma after getting into ‘New Age’. A few of our friends were gone and the medications weren’t FDA approved or trusted by many. We took a huge risk. Your mother and I drove to Vegas that weekend and months later, I found the right doctor. Nothing drastic since. You could never tell when you visited us during those summers, could you?” There had been pills that Terry would take when I would have breakfast but so did Mom. Without reading the bottles or knowing what AZT or SSRI meant, you wouldn’t have noticed. The fact that Mom had mild depression while Terry had the 3 big letters flew under my nose. My reaction to Terry disclosing this history of him and ‘Mom’ made me view her differently, less self-centered than I thought.I realized I was sitting closer to Terry than I had planned. He hadn’t moved, his legs stretched out along the couch, his left arm curled loosely around my waist. His head rested on a cushion near my right thigh. I kept my feet planted on the floor, stiff, pretending not to notice the way his hand grazed and pressed lightly against my side. I said nothing. I didn’t want to. The zipper of my pants pushed up, forming a hill. Terry broke the silence, asking if we could watch something else. “Yeah we can. You pick something out. Host’ choice.” “Any preferences?” “Not at all. Maybe no horror, no heavy drama or anything complex to be honest. I can barely think” “How bout some porn? Something more than just magazines.” By now, I had realized the cushion holding Terry’s head was on my right thigh, and I heard the last question come out sharper, louder than before. I looked down to see his face smirking. It was less a tease than a taunt. I raised my eyebrows and said, “Sure.” He got up to find the remote, freeing my leg, which had started to feel numb. The TV then grabbed my attention with the screen showing the animated train moving through the blizzard. Without a warning, the channel changed to HDMI. Terrence had returned in a festive robe while holding a hard drive with one hand and a remote controller with the other. The hard drive was plugged and he sat up straight next to me. His arms extended again, resting on my shoulder this time. His robe was tied loose. It gave me a glimpse or two of his pecs and nipples covered in that coarse silver hair. My gaze wasn’t lost on Terrence. I felt a pinch of my left shoulder from his grip, directing me to keep my eyes up to the screen. “I can’t promise that.” “Maybe this will help you focus.” Terry reached for a keepsake box under the coffee table in front of us. He revealed a glass pipe, a pill case containing shiny white rocks and shards, and a torch that could be used for preparing creme brulee. I was into weed during college and kept a glass bong during my sophomore year but this was new. I’m told that similar to a bong, I need to inhale but Terry will light it for me. I didn’t bother to ask him what it was. I’ve trusted him for as long as I remember. His guidance in handling the pipe convinced me that he’ll always be there to look out for me. After he instructed me to exhale when he stopped the torch, I let out a cloud of light smoke that was similar to vapour. Suddenly I started to feel my nerves electrifying through my body, as if my senses were amplified. My heart beat rapidly and my skin began to perspire. Terry then held my chin to face into my wide eyes before asking how I felt. “Feel better? Eyes up, kiddo.” I complied with no hesitation. That first puff of many compelled me to listen and follow anything Terry said. Whatever he gave me had unlocked a primal state within me that I no longer have shame in suppressing. The screen now showed a menu interface with Terry navigating through the folders before clicking on a file. A video began to play. In a hotel room, there was a guy around my age in a jock and a bass pro cap rolling on a bed before getting on all fours. Terry nudges me to tell me that he’s behind the camera and that this guy’s name is Hayden, his other ‘son’ that he met a year ago. “Before you meet them, I want you to see how well my friends take good care of Hayden. I don't want you to be nervous around them when they’re here tomorrow. And guess what? Hayden will be there too.” I couldn’t wait for tomorrow’s dinner any longer. It was crystal clear that there had been zero regrets coming up here, especially when considering how the rest of my stay went.