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We're already there sir 🥵 Although I guess if I get doubled then I can count it as two for the challenge maybe 😅

This story keeps getting better and better!

Damn hot story so far. The build up has me very horny. Can't wait to read more of your hot writing!

The dim glow of the living room lamp cast harsh shadows across the cluttered house, bottles scattered like fallen soldiers on the coffee table. Mike, a 42-year-old construction worker, slumped on the worn couch, his massive frame spilling over the edges. At 6'2" and built like a brick wall from years of manual labor, he was a force—broad shoulders, hairy chest straining his stained tank top, and a gut from too many beers. But it was the bulge in his sweatpants that told the real story: a thick ten-inch cock, veined and heavy, always ready to wreck. Tonight, after losing another shift to the bottle, Mike was three sheets to the wind, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the hallway where his 18-year-old son, Tyler, padded barefoot toward the kitchen. Tyler was the spitting image of innocence lost too soon—slim and athletic from school sports, with messy brown hair, smooth skin, and a tight bubble butt that filled out his boxer briefs. He'd just turned legal, but to Mike, he was still the boy he'd raised alone after Tyler's mom bailed years ago. Resentment festered in Mike like rot; the kid reminded him of failures, of nights spent jerking off to twisted fantasies instead of building a life. 'Fuck it,' Mike slurred to himself, swigging from a half-empty whiskey bottle. The alcohol burned, fueling the rage and lust churning in his gut. Tyler froze when he heard the heavy footsteps behind him. 'Dad? You okay?' he asked, turning with a glass of water in hand. Mike lunged without a word, grabbing Tyler by the throat and slamming him against the fridge. The glass shattered on the linoleum, shards skittering like ice. 'Shut your mouth, boy,' Mike growled, his breath reeking of booze. Tyler's eyes widened in terror, hands clawing at the iron grip. 'Dad, stop—' Mike's free hand yanked down Tyler's boxers, exposing the boy's firm ass cheeks. 'Been watchin' you prance around, teasin' me. Time you earned your keep.' He spun Tyler around, face smashed into the cold metal door, and freed his throbbing dick from his pants. It slapped against Tyler's thigh, hot and rigid, the foreskin peeled back to reveal a glistening head. Tyler bucked, screaming, but Mike pinned him with his weight, kicking the boy's legs apart. No prep, no mercy. Mike spat once on his palm, slicking his shaft just enough, then rammed forward. The blunt cockhead breached Tyler's virgin hole, tearing a raw scream from the teen. 'Tight little fucker,' Mike grunted, forcing inch after inch past the resisting ring. Tyler's body convulsed, nails scraping the fridge as pain exploded inside him. Mike didn't stop, hips snapping brutally, burying his full length until his hairy balls mashed against Tyler's taint. He pounded like a jackhammer, each thrust ripping deeper, the dry friction grinding tender walls. Tyler sobbed, begging, 'Please, Dad, it hurts—stop!' But Mike laughed, a guttural sound, slapping the boy's ass red. 'Take it, you worthless shit. This ass is mine.' Sweat poured down Mike's back as he reamed relentlessly, his cock pistoning in and out, stretching the hole to its limits. Tyler's struggles weakened, body going slack from shock, but Mike kept hammering, grunting with every plunge. After ten minutes of savage assault, something gave—Tyler's ass tore, a sharp rip inside sending fresh agony through him. Blood welled up, warm and slick, coating Mike's shaft as he pulled back for a look. 'Fuck yeah, bleedin' for Daddy,' he rasped, mesmerized by the crimson streaks on his dick. Tyler whimpered, vision blurring from tears and pain, but Mike dove back in, using the blood as lube now. It squelched obscenely with each thrust, the metallic tang mixing with sweat in the air. Mike's pace quickened, the slipperiness letting him go deeper, harder, churning the blood into a frothy mess that dripped down Tyler's thighs. 'That's it, grease my cock with your guts,' Mike snarled, gripping Tyler's hips hard enough to bruise. He fucked through the resistance, the bleeding hole clenching spasmodically around him. Tyler's cries turned to broken gasps, his small cock trapped against the fridge, untouched and soft. Mike reached around, squeezing it roughly. 'Bet you're lovin' this, fag.' The teen shook his head, but his body betrayed a twitch, the pain blurring into numb haze. Mike railed for another half-hour, the kitchen floor slick with blood and sweat. Finally, with a roar, he slammed balls-deep and erupted, hot jets of cum flooding Tyler's ravaged insides, mixing with the blood into a sticky slurry. He held there, grinding, milking every drop before yanking out. Tyler collapsed to his knees, ass gaping and oozing red-tinged jizz, body trembling. Mike tucked himself away, panting, then hauled the boy up by his hair. 'Clean up your mess,' he ordered, shoving Tyler's face toward the bloodied cock. The teen gagged, lips parting weakly as Mike skull-fucked him, smearing the mess across his tongue until satisfied. But Mike wasn't done owning him. The next evening, after sobering up just enough, he dragged Tyler—still sore, walking bow-legged—to the garage where his buddies gathered for poker nights. Four roughneck construction mates: Hank, a burly redhead with a beer belly and thick seven-incher; Lou, wiry and mean with tattoos snaking up his arms; Pete, the quiet one with a surprisingly fat dick; and Vic, the loudmouth, hung like Mike but crueler. They'd crashed at Mike's before, swapping stories of bar fights and easy lays, but tonight Mike had a surprise. 'Boys, got a treat,' Mike announced, shoving Tyler into the center of the circle of folding chairs. The teen was stripped to nothing, bruises blooming on his pale skin, ass still swollen and faintly bloody. The men leered, beers in hand, as Mike explained. 'My boy's open for business. Twenty bucks a pop, or free if you make him bleed more. Use him rough—ass, mouth, whatever. He's a hole now.' Tyler pleaded, 'Dad, no—please,' but Mike backhanded him silent. 'Shut up and bend over the table.' The poker game turned into a gangbang auction. Hank went first, tossing a crumpled bill and dropping his jeans. His cock was rigid, uncut, and he spat on Tyler's ass before shoving in. The boy yelped, the fresh intrusion reopening the tear, blood trickling anew. Hank gripped the table edges, slamming forward, his gut slapping Tyler's back. 'Fuck, he's loose but grippy,' Hank groaned, pounding steadily, the cards scattering forgotten. Lou was next, paying double for the mouth. He grabbed Tyler's hair, forcing his throat down on his tattooed shaft while Hank kept reaming the ass. Tyler choked, saliva bubbling, as the two men spitroasted him over the green felt. Pete waited his turn, stroking his girthy meat, eyes on the blood smearing Tyler's cheeks. Vic laughed, filming on his phone. 'Gonna make bank whoring this kid out.' They rotated, each man taking a hole. Mike joined in, pimping his own son like chattel, collecting cash and barking orders. 'Deeper, Lou—make him gag.' Tyler's body rocked with the assaults, ass bleeding freely now, the table slick beneath him. Pete flipped him onto his back, legs over shoulders, and plunged his fat cock in, stretching the torn ring wider. Blood lubed the way, squelching as Pete thrust, hitting spots that made Tyler's dick leak despite the horror. Hours passed in a blur of cocks and cum. Hank came first, pulling out to shoot across Tyler's face, then shoving back in to plug the load inside. Lou flooded the boy's mouth, holding his nose until he swallowed. Vic went raw in the ass, churning the mess, his hips blurring. 'Bleed for me, slut,' he taunted, clawing nails into Tyler's thighs. Mike took the last turn before a break, using the fresh blood to slick his way, fucking slow and deep while the mates cheered. By midnight, Tyler was a ragdoll—body limp, covered in jizz and bruises, ass a ruined, gaping wound pulsing blood. They propped him on the couch, passing him around for seconds. Pete straddled his chest, tit-fucking the boy's pecs before shoving into his mouth. Vic and Lou double-teamed the ass, one after the other, no recovery time. Hank held Tyler's arms, ensuring no escape. In the frenzy, things escalated. Vic, drunk and raging, decided to choke the boy while fucking him. He wrapped a belt around Tyler's neck, yanking tight as he rammed in. 'Squeeze that hole,' Vic grunted, the constriction making Tyler's ass clench hard. The teen's face turned purple, eyes bulging, but the men laughed it off as play. Mike watched, counting bills, too buzzed to intervene. Pete took over the ass next, flipping Tyler face-down and mounting him like a dog. He thrust wildly, the blood making obscene sounds, while Lou face-fucked from the front. Tyler's struggles faded, body twitching erratically. Vic tightened the belt again, riding the high, not noticing the boy's gasps turning silent. A final, brutal plunge from Pete—too deep, too hard—snapped something inside. Tyler went still, neck limp, the belt's pressure crushing his windpipe in the accidental strangle. The room stilled for a beat. 'He pass out?' Hank muttered, poking Tyler's cheek. No response. Mike checked the pulse—nothing. 'Fuck, he's gone.' But the booze and lust overrode sense. Vic shrugged, still hard. 'Dead meat's still warm. My turn.' He yanked the belt off and flipped the body over, shoving his cock into the slack mouth. No resistance now, just a lifeless hole to plunder. They kept going, the accidental death fueling a darker frenzy. Hank claimed the ass first, pounding the cooling flesh, blood still oozing as lube. 'Tighter now,' he groaned, slamming until he came inside the corpse. Lou and Pete double-penetrated the ass, stretching it impossibly, grunting as they chased release in the unresponsive body. Mike, last, mounted his son's face, jerking off onto the glassy eyes before skull-fucking the throat one final time, cum bubbling from the lips. By dawn, Tyler's body lay sprawled, used and discarded, cum pooling from every orifice amid the drying blood. The mates cleaned up, pocketing their change, joking about the 'best poker night ever.' Mike dragged the corpse to the basement, already planning how to spin the story—runaway kid, nothing more. The house fell quiet, but the echo of thrusts lingered, a [banned word] legacy sealed in silence.

So I'm starting my training to become a better FF bottom. I have two new buttplugs on the way that are for training. My house remodel is taking extra time and all my toys are locked up back at the house. I'm trying to find anyone in the local area that might be looking to part way with some of their collection. My upsized PA healing is 4 weeks at minimum so I'm trying to use the time productively 🙂

I think there's an important place for older men mentoring younger men, with the "Campfire Rule" being in full effect. (The campfire rule is where you leave everything and everyone in better condition than you found it.) I wish I'd had that kind of man in my life as a young man.

Well guest Ronnie, you should make a profile and hit me up!! Especially if you’re in my area of Alton,IL/St Louis MO!!!

ABSOLUTELY CORRECT

The neon lights of the truck stop flickered against the night sky, casting long shadows over the gravel lot filled with rumbling semis and weary travelers. It was well past midnight, and the air hung heavy with the scent of diesel and stale coffee. Inside the dingy restrooms, 18-year-old Alex leaned over the sink, splashing cold water on his face. He'd hitched a ride from the city, dreaming of adventure on the open road, but now exhaustion clawed at him. His slim frame, toned from high school track, was clad in a tight white t-shirt and faded jeans that hugged his pert ass. Unaware, he dried his hands on his pants, glancing at his reflection—innocent blue eyes, tousled blond hair, and a boyish face that screamed vulnerability. Outside, Big Jake eased his massive rig into a spot near the toilets. At 45, he was a hulking figure, 6'4" with a beer gut straining his flannel shirt and arms like tree trunks from years of hauling freight. His cock, a thick nine-incher, throbbed in his jeans at the thought of fresh meat. Jake had HIV, a secret he carried like a loaded gun, passed on from a rough encounter years back. He didn't care about protection; in fact, he got off on the risk, the power of infecting some naive kid. Spotting Alex through the grimy window as the boy exited the restroom, Jake's lips curled into a predatory grin. The kid looked lost, perfect for what he had in mind. "Hey, kid," Jake rumbled, stepping out from behind his truck, his voice gravelly from cigarettes and whiskey. "You need a lift? Looks like you're stranded out here." Alex hesitated, eyeing the burly man. The trucker seemed rough but offered a ride, and with no other options, he nodded. "Yeah, thanks. Heading east, anywhere's fine." Jake clapped a meaty hand on Alex's shoulder, guiding him toward the cab. "Hop in. Got some buddies meeting up later, but we'll get you moving." As Alex climbed into the passenger seat, Jake's eyes lingered on the boy's tight jeans, imagining how that ass would feel clenching around his raw dick. The cab smelled of sweat and leather. Jake fired up the engine, but instead of pulling out, he reached into the glove compartment for a couple of beers. "Here, loosen up. Long night ahead." Alex took a swig, not noticing the bitter aftertaste as Jake watched him closely. The drug—roofies crushed into powder—would hit soon, making the kid pliable, forgetful. Minutes later, Alex's head lolled against the window, his eyelids heavy. "Wha... what's happening?" he mumbled, his body going limp. Jake chuckled, shifting the truck into gear and driving to a secluded pull-off behind the truck stop, hidden by overgrown brush. He killed the engine and hauled Alex's unconscious form into the sleeper berth at the back. The space was cramped, with a mattress stained from past conquests and chains bolted to the frame. Jake stripped the boy roughly, yanking off the t-shirt to reveal smooth, hairless pecs and pink nipples. The jeans came next, exposing Alex's slim legs and a small, uncut cock nestled in blond pubes. The boy's ass cheeks were firm, pale, begging to be spread. "Time to break you in, boy," Jake growled, shedding his own clothes. His thick cock sprang free, veined and heavy, already leaking precum. He didn't bother with lube; spit would do. Flipping Alex onto his stomach, Jake pried the boy's cheeks apart, spitting a thick glob onto the tight pink hole. He pressed his cockhead against it, forcing inch by inch into the drugged teen's virgin ass. Alex stirred faintly, a whimper escaping as his body instinctively clenched, but the drugs kept him from fighting back. Jake thrust deep, groaning as the tight ring gripped his shaft. "Fuck, you're tight. Gonna ruin this hole for good." He pounded relentlessly, his balls slapping against Alex's taint with each brutal stroke. The boy's body rocked on the mattress, his small cock trapped beneath him, rubbing against the rough fabric. Jake reached around, jerking Alex's dick roughly to mix pain with unwanted pleasure. Sweat dripped from Jake's brow as he hammered away, feeling his HIV-positive load building. No condom—why bother? He wanted this kid marked, infected, carrying his virus forever. After twenty minutes of savage fucking, Jake buried himself balls-deep and unloaded, ropes of hot cum flooding Alex's guts. He pulled out with a wet pop, watching his seed leak from the gaping, reddened hole. Alex moaned incoherently, the drugs wearing thin but leaving him dazed. Jake wasn't done. He flipped the boy over, shoving his cum-smeared cock into Alex's slack mouth. "Suck it clean, bitch." The teen's lips parted weakly, tongue lapping at the bitter mix of ass and jizz as Jake face-fucked him, skull-fucking until he came again, shooting down the boy's throat. By dawn, Alex was chained to the berth, wrists and ankles secured with rough metal. The drugs had him in a haze, but awareness flickered as Jake climbed back in, dressed and ready to move. "You're mine now, kid. Got some pals joining the convoy. They'll love breaking you." He tossed a rag over Alex's naked body and drove toward a rendezvous point—a deserted lot where three other truckers waited, engines idling like hungry beasts. The mates were a rough crew: Tank, a bald brute with a pierced cock; Rusty, lean and tattooed with a sadistic streak; and Bull, the oldest at 50, his gut hanging over a girthy seven-incher. They'd shared loads before, passing around hitchhikers and lot lizards, but a fresh 18-year-old? That was prime. Jake pulled up, honking once. The men gathered at his cab, peering into the sleeper. "Got a present, boys," Jake announced, unlocking the chains just enough to drag Alex out. The boy stumbled, naked and cum-streaked, eyes wide with confusion and fear. "This little slut's all ours. Fresh ass, no mileage." Tank grinned, grabbing Alex by the hair and forcing him to his knees on the gravel. "Look at that pretty mouth. Bet it sucks like a vacuum." He unzipped, his pierced dick—eight inches with a thick ring through the head—slapping against Alex's cheek. The boy gagged as Tank shoved in, the piercing scraping his tongue. Rusty and Bull circled, stroking their cocks while Jake watched, his own dick hardening again. "Drug him up if he fights," Jake said, handing over a vial of poppers. But Alex was too weak to resist much, his body betraying him as Tank skull-fucked him deep, balls smacking his chin. Saliva dripped down Alex's chest as the trucker grunted, flooding his mouth with cum. "Swallow it, boy. That's just the appetizer." They hauled him into Bull's trailer, a larger setup with a makeshift sling in the corner. Alex was strapped in, legs spread wide, ass exposed and still leaking Jake's load. Bull went first, rolling on a condom but smirking as he positioned his fat cock at the boy's hole. "Gonna fill you proper." He thrust in, the latex stretching around Alex's abused ring. The teen cried out, bucking against the restraints, but Bull just laughed, pounding hard. Midway through, with Alex whimpering, Bull reached down and pinched the condom's base, tearing a small hole with his nail. "Oops," he muttered, but kept slamming, ensuring his pre-cum—and whatever else he carried—seeped in. Rusty took over next, no condom from the start. His tattooed body glistened with sweat as he rammed into Alex's sloppy hole, the boy's ass now a cum-filled mess. "Feel that? Raw and real, kid. You're gonna catch something from this." He clawed at Alex's nipples, twisting them red while his hips pistoned, cock dragging against the inner walls. Alex's own dick twitched traitorously, leaking pre as unwanted arousal built from the relentless friction. Tank flipped the sling, positioning Alex face-down so his ass jutted out. He lubed up with spit and plunged in, the piercing adding ridges of pain-pleasure. "Tighten up, bitch. Milk my load." Alex sobbed, but his body clenched, drawing groans from the brute. Tank fucked like a machine, breaking a sweat, then yanked the condom off mid-thrust—another one sabotaged earlier—and went bare, flooding the teen with thick spurts. "There ya go, infected now." Jake joined the rotation, taking Alex's mouth while Bull reclaimed the ass. The boy was double-teamed, gagging on Jake's HIV-laced cock as Bull's bare dick churned the cum inside him. The truckers rotated for hours, each breaking or ditching condoms to ensure the virus took hold. Rusty jerked Alex off during one round, forcing the boy to cum shamefully onto the floor while getting railed. By afternoon, Alex was a wreck—body bruised, hole swollen and gaping, cum oozing from every orifice. The truckers lounged, smoking and drinking, passing the boy around for quick fucks. Jake unchained him briefly, making him crawl on all fours to service each man, licking boots and balls before getting bent over the tailgate of a truck. "You're our cumdump now," Jake said, shoving Alex's face into a puddle of jizz on the ground. "Ride with us, or we leave you here leaking. But you'll want more." The drugs and abuse had broken something in the teen; he nodded weakly, body craving the twisted release. The convoy rolled out, Alex secured in Jake's sleeper, ready for the next stop. More mates would join, more loads to take, the infection sealing his fate in this endless road of depravity. Tank drove point, Rusty and Bull flanking, all knowing the kid was theirs to share, to ruin, to infect forever. As the sun set, Jake pulled Alex onto his lap in the cab, impaling him on his cock while steering one-handed. "Feel it deep, boy? That's your new life." Alex moaned, grinding down, lost in the haze of cum and submission. The truck stop faded in the rearview, but the nightmare—and the ecstasy—had only just begun. The days blurred into a haze of asphalt and ass-fucking. At every stop, the truckers added to the roster: a grizzled vet named Spike with a curved dick that hit Alex's prostate just right, making him squirt unwillingly; and Marco, a younger hauler with endless stamina, who tied Alex spread-eagle and edged him for hours before dumping raw inside. Each man knew the score—Jake's whisper about the HIV spread like wildfire, turning the sharing into a deliberate breeding session. One night at a remote weigh station, they parked in a circle, building a bonfire from scrap wood. Alex was the entertainment, stripped and oiled up, made to dance for the six truckers now gathered. His slim body glistened, cock half-hard from the poppers they'd forced on him. "Shake that ass, slut," Spike barked, and Alex obeyed, twerking until hands grabbed him. They took turns in the firelight, bending him over logs, against tires, even hoisting him between two men for a spitroast. Condoms appeared sporadically, only to be ripped or filled with holes. Marco went last, flipping Alex onto his back and folding his legs to his chest, pounding so deep the boy's toes curled. "Take my seed, poz boy," Marco hissed, erupting without barrier, his load mixing with the others in Alex's battered guts. By week's end, Alex's body ached constantly, his hole never closing fully, a constant drip of cum marking his jeans when they let him dress. Fevers came and went—early signs, Jake said with a laugh, slapping the boy's ass. "You're one of us now." The infection took hold slowly, but the truckers didn't care. They drove on, Alex chained and used, his innocence shattered on the road's endless ribbon. In the sleeper, as Jake fucked him slow and deep one night, the boy whispered, "More... please." The virus bound him, but so did the cock, the cum, the brutal brotherhood of the highway.

Keep going!

Great cartoon, I’d be glad to be a white boy like the two of you providing service. We should get a hotel room and put three hot holes on Sniffies

Extremely HOT - HUNGRY Extra - POZ BOTTOMS - turning me on - Can Not Resisted - Gang Banging - Bondage - getting High - Multi Loads and Fucking Raw - Forcing - Young and Old - Love Videos !

So FUCKING HOT - your Wife wants to Film you while being Fucked / Poz loads - becoming a POZ Bottom ! I Love and Adore POZ BOTTOMS - especially Sharp finger nails ! With Out telling the TOP / Neg. Breeder - slipping your finger inside your Pussy Hole - scratching inner wall - drops of Blood - Raw Fucking - Breeding POZ Seeds ! WOW ! Imagining you haven have the Flu - your Wife keeps on a extra routine having Sex with you - becoming POZ - a Couple in Sex Groups POZZING others !

NOOOOOOOOOOO I feel cheated. I followed Matt's story, being hard and jerked off a lot to him being fucked and now... You kill him?! No I'm not accepting this end. Matt should be a slut somewhere returning home to Paul. No no no this is just too bad an ending to a beautiful story. Please someone tell me it's April fools