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Is there a difference between being "in heat" and regular old "horny"? I suppose the definition of being "horny" depends on each guy's individual explanation, but going "into heat" is a biological function generally associated with females (critters as well as humans). If "horny" can be engineered into a 1 to 10 scale, then each guy can figure out where on that scale he fits. That wouldn't apply to "going into heat" though, since that's an uncontrolled function of biology, not under personal control, and in females. Thus, we get to define our cravings for ourselves, and any guy can be "in heat" or "horny", without having to define that very closely. We do what's really important, that being getting out to the pigpens/lfuckjoints, jumping into the writhing mass with holes sweating for loads, and cocks turned into granite with lust for those holes. What we call it is fun, I guess - but what's really important is that we go do it.

7.5" UC that telescopes thicker at the base

If they allow you to vote... I'm honestly really scared about what is happening there; they've even blocked the possibility to go to USA for foreign people working on fact checking and internet safety; sometimes I just hope some news are progressive-addressed propaganda - I'm aware extremism is from both parties. Well "both" there are several way of thinking but narration is always polarized.

Like it doesn’t come close! Moment top starts eating my hole I’m on heat knowing im in for memorable fuck. It’s a sign this guy really loves Manhole 😈

Not at all versatile. I put up with it annually on my other half's birthday - he thought I had a great ass, but his taste (meaning me) was highly questionable in the first place. 😇

Whatever the number so far all I know is I want to get more. You bet I’ll keep trying

I like average as well. But would love to take 11" past my second ring. As long as it's not thick.

Relate so much to the feeling of heightened need days after playing, and woof nothing hotter than the urgency of fucking cloths still on 😈🐽🔥

I love an average king. 6" or so to suck and or bottom for is all I ever want. Guys in the 4 to 6" range are often shy and super horny when I mess around with them. Many seem to have this perceived notion (trauma) that everyone wants a HUNG dude. NOT ME!

I love it, makes me even hornier!

You'd be all the Top I'd want and need.

Cum down to join babe!

FUCK MAN! I'd be a lucky bitch if he got you as his Top and Pimp.

Where in LA? I'm in West Hollywood 👀

I came of sexual age in the early 90s and always assumed that being bred by a stranger would be an unattainable fantasy. Whenever a man cums up my ass, I always think about how lucky I am to be able to experience it.

Chapter 26 The drive home from the work site was a blur of asphalt and aching silence. Jordan’s mind, for once, wasn’t on Chad or the lingering echo of their last hotel-room encounter. It was a state away, in his own house, with the two people he’d built a life with. He’d called them last night. No answer. He’d texted this morning. Nothing. A cold, leaden dread had been growing in his gut all day, a stark contrast to the humid summer air flooding through the truck’s open window. Pulling into the driveway, the dread solidified into a hard, icy rock. The driveway was empty. No Jared’s beat-up sedan. No Blake’s sleek motorcycle. No. They’re just out. They’re shopping. They’re getting food. The excuses were weak, pathetic things that dissolved the moment he killed the engine. The silence that greeted him was absolute and profoundly wrong. He pushed open the garage door, the creak of the hinge absurdly loud in the quiet. “Jared? Blake?” His voice bounced off the walls, unanswered. He stepped into the kitchen. Nothing on the counter. No note. The living room was… clean. Too clean. The throw blankets were neatly folded. The video game controllers were lined up with military precision on the media console. Jared never did that. He took the stairs two at a time, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He shoved open the door to their shared bedroom. Empty. The closets were half-empty, hangers dangling askew. The dresser drawers were pulled open, hollowed out. All of Blake’s graphic tees, all of Jared’s flannels and worn jeans—gone. The bathroom was next. His items sat alone on the counter. Their toothbrushes, their products, the special beard oil Chad had given Jared—vanished. They were gone. They had moved out. Together. A wave of vertigo washed over him. He staggered back, leaning against the doorframe for support. Why? What had he done? There were no fights, no jealousy, no slammed doors or bitter words. The last time he’d seen them, they’d been wrapped up in each other on the couch, smiling, telling him about their boring day. It was a lie. It had all been a lie. The panic was a live wire now, sparking under his skin, stealing the air from his lungs. He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the hallway floor, knees pulled to his chest. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. His hands were shaking. Who did he call? His parents? They wouldn’t understand. A friend? He didn’t have any others. They had been his whole world. On pure, desperate instinct, his trembling fingers found his phone. He scrolled past Jared’s name, past Blake’s, and landed on the last person he’d been with. He hit call. Chad answered on the second ring. “Hey, man. You make it back okay?” The sound of his voice, so normal, so grounded, was the final crack in Jordan’s composure. A choked sob escaped him. He couldn’t form words. “Jordan?” Chad’s tone shifted instantly, all casualness evaporating. “Jordan, talk to me. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” “They’re… they’re gone,” he finally managed, the words raw and broken. “Everything’s… empty. They left me.” “Sit tight,” Chad’s voice was firm, a command that cut through the static in Jordan’s head. “Don’t move. I’m on my way.” The line went dead. Jordan let the phone clatter to the floor, burying his face in his hands. The silence of the house pressed in on him, a heavy, suffocating weight. Minutes later, the roar of a familiar truck engine cut through the quiet, followed by the slam of a door. Heavy, urgent footsteps pounded up the front porch steps. The front door swung open. “Jordan?” He heard Chad’s voice echo through the empty downstairs before his bootfalls sounded on the stairs. He appeared at the top, his broad frame filling the hallway. His eyes, dark with concern, found Jordan crumpled on the floor. In two long strides, Chad was there. He didn’t hesitate. He dropped to his knees and gathered Jordan into his arms, pulling him against his chest. Jordan collapsed into him, his body wracked with silent, shuddering sobs he could no longer contain. “Shhh, I’ve got you,” Chad murmured, his voice a low rumble against Jordan’s ear. One large, calloused hand cradled the back of Jordan’s head, fingers tangling in his hair. The other rubbed slow, firm circles on his back. “I’ve got you. Just let it out.” He held Jordan tightly, his embrace an anchor in a suddenly unmoored world. Jordan clung to the rough fabric of Chad’s work shirt, inhaling the familiar scents of diesel, clean sweat, and just Chad. It was the only thing that felt real. Chad held him through the worst of it, until the sobs subsided into shaky, hiccupping breaths. He didn’t say empty platitudes. He didn’t ask stupid questions. He just held him, his own heart hammering a frantic, hopeful rhythm against Jordan’s chest. This is it, Chad thought, his face buried in Jordan’s hair. This is my chance. The thought was immediate, selfish, and utterly overwhelming. For weeks, this man in his arms had been all he could think about. Jordan made him feel safe, seen, and fucking alive in a way he’d never experienced. The sex was earth-shattering, yeah, but it was the quiet moments after, the easy laughter, the shared looks—that’s what had cemented it. He was head over heels, desperately in love, and he’d been trying to find the nerve, the perfect moment to say it. But this… seeing Jordan so completely shattered, so vulnerable… this wasn’t the right time. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t confess his feelings now. It would be taking advantage. So he just held on tighter, pouring every ounce of the love he couldn’t say into that simple, solid embrace. “I don’t understand,” Jordan whispered against his neck, his voice hoarse. “Why would they just go? Without a word?” “I don’t know, man,” Chad said softly, his lips brushing against Jordan’s temple. “But you’re not alone. You hear me? You’re not alone in this.” He leaned back just enough to look at Jordan’s face, his thumb gently wiping a stray tear from his cheek. The proximity was electric. Jordan’s eyes, red-rimmed and lost, searched his. Chad’s gaze dropped to Jordan’s lips for a heartbeat too long, the air between them thickening with something far more complex than comfort. “I’m right here,” Chad breathed, his voice barely a whisper, a pr omise and a question all at once. Chapter 27 The warm, damp spot on Chad’s shirt grew larger as Jordan’s sobs finally began to subside, the raw, wrenching sounds softening into shaky, hitching breaths. He felt hollowed out, scraped clean by the shock and the crying. Chad’s arms never loosened their hold, his hand a steady, comforting pressure on the back of Jordan’s head. Jordan tilted his face up, his vision blurred by remaining tears. Chad’s concerned face was inches from his, his brow furrowed, his own eyes shining with an emotion Jordan was too overwhelmed to name. Without a single conscious thought, driven by a need for comfort that was more primal than any logic, Jordan closed the small distance between them and pressed his lips to Chad’s. It was a messy, salty kiss, wet with tears and the faint, embarrassing smear of snot from Jordan’s nose. He didn’t care. He poured every bit of his confusion, his loss, and his desperate need for connection into it, clinging to Chad like he was the only solid thing in a world that had just collapsed. He kissed him for what felt like an eternity, a silent plea for the ground to stop shifting beneath his feet. When he finally pulled back, gasping for air, his cheeks flushed with a heat that was entirely new, regret instantly flooded him. “Chad, I’m… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… that was…” Chad’s hand, which had stilled on his back, began to move again in slow, calming circles. His voice was low, a soft rumble that vibrated through Jordan’s entire body. “No. Don’t apologize. It’s okay.” He brushed a stray tear from Jordan’s cheek with his thumb, his calloused skin rough yet incredibly gentle. “I was wanting to kiss you, too.” They stayed like that for a long moment, foreheads resting together, their breath mingling. Jordan’s heart was no longer hammering from panic, but from something else entirely, something terrifying and exhilarating. Chad’s eyes, dark and intense, searched his, and Jordan saw the internal battle raging within them. “Jordan…” Chad began, his voice husky. He took a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. “I know… I know this is the worst possible time. The absolute worst. And I’ve been trying to find a better moment for weeks, but… I can’t wait another minute. Seeing you like this… I can’t hold it in.” He leaned back just enough to look Jordan directly in the eye, his gaze unwavering, raw with a vulnerability Jordan had never seen in the rugged man before. “I have been racking my brain every single day since that first time in the hotel,” Chad confessed, the words pouring out in a rushed, earnest torrent. “Thinking about you. About us. About how you make me feel. I was so unsure, man. So fucking confused. I’ve never… felt this for anyone. Not like this.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “But I can’t deny it anymore. I’m not confused. I’m in love with you, Jordan.” The declaration hung in the silent hallway, so immense it seemed to absorb all the sound in the world. Jordan could only stare, his mind struggling to process the words. Chad continued, his voice gaining strength, filled with a wondrous awe as he cataloged his feelings. “I’m in love with your stupid, perfect smile that makes your eyes crinkle. I’m in love with your laugh, the way you throw your head back and just let go. I’m in love with this body,” he said, his hand slipping from Jordan’s back to splay across his chest, feeling the frantic beat of his heart. “The way you move, the strength in you. I’m even in love with your smell—like clean sweat and that cheap shampoo you use and just… you.Everything. I’m just… completely in love with you.” Jordan was speechless. The emptiness left by Jared and Blake’s abandonment was suddenly filled with a roaring, incandescent light. All the clandestine glances at the shipyard, the possessive grabs in the hotel, the tender way Chad had cared for him during sex—it all snapped into a perfect, stunning picture. “But…” Jordan finally managed, his voice a disbelieving whisper. “I thought you were straight?” A slow, genuine smile spread across Chad’s face, softening his sharp features. “Labels are just words, man. They don’t mean a damn thing. I love Jordan. I wouldn’t care if you were a guy, a girl, or a fucking brilliant alien from another planet. I just love you. For you.” It was the sweetest, most overwhelmingly honest thing anyone had ever said to him. The last of the ice around Jordan’s heart shattered. A choked, half-sob, half-laugh escaped him as fresh tears, these born of pure, unadulterated joy, welled in his eyes. “I love you too, Chad,” he breathed, the words feeling more right and true than anything he’d ever uttered. “God, I love you so much.” The relief that washed over Chad’s face was profound. He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for weeks and pulled Jordan into a fierce, crushing hug, burying his face in his neck. They held each other in the quiet hallway, surrounded by the ghosts of a past life, but firmly anchored in the stunning reality of their new beginning. After a long while, Chad shifted. The look in his eyes changed from one of comfort to one of smoldering intent. The hand on Jordan’s chest slid lower, over the tight muscles of his stomach, coming to rest at the waistband of his work pants. The touch was no longer just comforting; it was a question. “They don’t get to take this from us,” Chad murmured, his lips grazing Jordan’s earlobe. “This is ours.” Jordan answered him by capturing his mouth in another kiss, this one deep, hungry, and full of promise. It was a claiming. A consummation of words with action. Chad met his hunger with his own, his tongue sliding against Jordan’s as his fingers worked open the button of his jeans, then the zipper. The rasp of the denim was deafening in the silence. Chad broke the kiss, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down between them. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of Jordan’s pants and underwear and pushed them down in one smooth, determined motion. Jordan kicked them off, his hard cock springing free, already leaking. Chad’s gaze was rapt, worshipful. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, his own hands going to his belt buckle. The clink of the metal, the rough sound of his own zipper coming down, sent shivers of anticipation through Jordan. Chad shoved his heavy work pants and boxer briefs down his muscular thighs, his thick, uncut cock standing proud and full. They stood there for a heartbeat, naked in the hallway, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows around them. The air crackled with a new, profound intimacy. This wasn’t a frantic hookup in a cheap hotel room. This was different. This was theirs. Chad reached out, his hand not going for Jordan’s cock, but instead cupping his jaw, his thumb stroking his cheek. “I want to make love to you,” he said, the words a soft, reverent vow. “Will you let me do that?” Jordan’s answer was to take his hand and lead him, not to the empty bedroom that echoed with loss, but toward his own room down the hall. As they passed the threshold, Chad pulled him close again, his strong arms wrapping around him, their bodies aligning from chest to thigh. The feeling of their cocks pressed together, hard and hot between them, was an electric shock. Chad’s mouth found his again, slower this time, deeper. It was a kiss that spoke of belonging, of a future he’d been too afraid to imagine. His hands roamed Jordan’s back, down to the swell of his ass, pulling their hips even tighter together in a slow, grinding rhythm that made Jordan’s head spin. “My turn to take care of you,” Chad whispered against his lips, his voice thick with emotion and desire. THE END THANKS EVERYONE I HOPE YOU ENJOYED