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never tried poppers, but plenty of beers, booze and weed with a few friends. Those first times were the best. We had no idea what we were doing but loved figuring it out.

Remember your story of the Old Man / Poz - young teenager Helping me cleaning up - gave me a Erection ! I remember first time taking on 7 Tops - I was introduced to sniffing Poppers ! Also , being young , seeing the first time of a Black , Huge , Uncut cock a few inches from my Face - WOW !

All the time ill get out of my wheelchair and lick cum off any floor I see it on

Masculine inshape bottom looking for Top men in London. Poz or neg fine just want you load inside me. Will have hotel room in Soho area also plan on going to Vault. Any suggestions are appreciated for getting some seed.

This story is so hot

55, i hope for 60 before the year ends

I know this isn't a typical porn post for this site, however I felt it important in order to bring up a modern tragedy. This poor young man has to ask a woman to peg him for the pleasure he wants. I feel this is a failure of our community and we should be trying to reach out to all those young men who may not be gay, however love to have their asses played with. Let's see about helping a brother out shall we. I know I've done my part in the past and stand at the ready to assist others in need. [think before following links] https://barebackbastards.com/86911/young-guy-pegged-and-jerked-off-im-gonna-cum/

I wanna go w ol roger, fuck that is hot.

If ever in New Jersey or New York City, HMU. I would love for you to be in some of my videos getting fucked by Alpha tops and breeders. No loads refused. Here is the link to my videos. [think before following links] https://www.boyfriendtv.com/profiles/77293/ Or simply google ZIBMUSSER LEGEND

[think before following links] https://www.boyfriendtv.com/profiles/77293/ that is the link to my porn and if you don’t trust links, simply Google : ZIBMUSSER LEGEND IF YOU’D LIKE TO USE ME AS A CUM DUMP AND KNOW HOW TO VERBALLY ABUSE AND HUMILIATE A WORTHLESS CUM DUMP FAGGOTS LIKE ME ON VIDEO HIT ME UP.

This is really hot start, keep it up.

Well I do have a sling, and a couple of trunks of gear to make hosting company an event to be sure.

Interesting. That seems to suggest there is data corruption across the member database. Although I wouldn't mind being local to you.

I guess I'll be the first to whine "whatever happened to the ranger?...." So perhaps that's the cliffhanger? Nonetheless, nicely done. If we were coworkers and you were telling me about your weekend, this seems pretty complete.

Needs my tongue in there... 😋 🥵🤤👅

I don't go on NKP often, but I've noticed whenever there's an outage, like the cloud flair DDS attack: the ability for NKP to recover takes well over a week. The biggest thing I noticed was the location data for profiles. Guys in the Midwest were popping up as locals in Brooklyn NY.

I have had two NKP sourced hookups this year. It's been at least a year, probably closer to two since bbrt resulted in a meetup. But, all these sites seem to evolve relatively quickly. NKP as a site has been unstable for at least the last couple of years. It might be that they're getting hammered with DOS activity. I have a website I maintain and we've had to put in countermeasures for that. There appears to be; or dare I say there is; a significant portion of our fellow citizens who think we should not be communicating with each other and seek to disrupt it. Especially when they believe we are "controversial".

FUCK ME ON VIDEO MY VIDEOS: [think before following links] https://www.boyfriendtv.com/profiles/77293/

Part 2 The next morning hit like a fever dream that refused to break. I woke up tangled between them in the tent, the air thick with the smell of sex, sweat, and spilled whiskey. Sunlight cut through the nylon walls in thin, golden blades, striping our naked bodies. My hole throbbed, tender and used, a dull ache that made me shift and immediately feel the dried cum cracking on my stomach and face. Ryan was already half-hard against my thigh, his morning wood pressing lazily into me like it belonged there. Jack was behind me, his arm slung heavy over my waist, his breath warm on the back of my neck. Neither of them spoke at first. Ryan just rolled over, grabbed the back of my head, and fed his cock into my mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world. No "good morning," no hesitation—just the salty taste of him, already leaking, sliding over my tongue while I was still blinking sleep from my eyes. Jack stirred behind me, chuckled low, and reached down to spread my cheeks. He spat once, and pushed two fingers into the mess they’d left. They slipped in easily, no resistance, just a wet sound and my own muffled moan around Ryan’s cock. “Still open from last night,” Jack muttered, his voice rough with sleep. “Good boy.” They didn’t rush. They used me slowly, like I was part of the morning routine. Ryan fucked my throat steady and deep while Jack worked me open again with his tongue, then his fingers, then his cock—bare again, sliding in raw and slick with leftover lube and cum. I took it without thinking. My body knew what it wanted now. We didn’t crawl out of the tent until noon. When we finally did, it was like nothing had changed, and everything had. The world felt sharp and overly real after the close, humid dark of our nest. The air smelled of pine and damp earth, a stark contrast to the musky, scents of debauchery and whiskey that still clung to my skin. There was an unspoken choreography to our movements. I started the fire back up, while Jack wrestled with the grill and Ryan set up the percolator, the clatter of metal and the hiss of the stove the only sounds between us. It was almost domestic, almost, in a primal sort of way. After we’d choked down breakfast, I took the stack of greasy plates down to the lake’s edge. The water was a sheet of dark glass, reflecting the sky. I was on my knees, scrubbing at a plate with sand, when the stream hit me. It was hot and shocking, arcing over my shoulder and splashing across my back. I flinched, looking up to see Ryan smirking, pissing on me with a lazy, confident arch. “Taste it, freshman,” he laughed, the sound echoing across the water. Before I could even react, Jack came barreling past me in a flying leap, hitting the water with a tremendous splash that soaked me to the bone. “Get in here, you filthy whore!” he yelled, surfacing with a gasp. Ryan laughed and jumped in after him. The cold was a physical blow, a vise closing around my chest, stealing my breath. They were on me in an instant, their hands rough, scrubbing me raw, calling me their filthy whore while I grinned and splashed back. Later, naked on our camp chairs, we air-dried under the sun like lizards. Our bodies glistened, and the warmth seeped back into my bones, chasing away the cold. We passed a joint back and forth, the smoke curling up into the pines, each hit followed by a long pull from a cold, sweaty Pabst. The world felt soft again, hazy at the edges. Every time I bent over to grab another beer from the cooler, a hand—Ryan’s, Jack’s, it didn’t matter—would connect with my ass, a sharp, stinging slap that was more punctuation than punishment. We fished air drying naked on the chairs, our bodies glistening in the sun, passing a joint back and forth along with some cold Pabst's. They’d slap my ass when I bent over to grab another beer. Ryan, sitting closest to me, put his hand on my thigh, pulling my leg closer and spreading me open. He aggressively found his way into my hole again. "You’re still hungry, aren't you, freshman?" he said. “You’re gonna be sore for days,” Jack grinned from his chair, watching the show, smirking while sipping his beer. Ryan grabbed my hand and led me to the truck, where he slammed me down onto the cool metal of the tailgate. The sun was on my back, but his shadow fell over me. He leaned in close, his fingers teasing my rim as he whispered, “You want some dick, bro?” Jack appeared at his side, phone in hand, the lens already pointed at us. He held the small brown bottle to my nose. “Yeah, freshman. Open that hole for my bro.” The poppers hit me like a wave, a dizzying rush that melted my bones and turned the world into a pulsing, urgent thing. With both hands, I reached back and spread myself open for him, an offering. Ryan spat on my hole, the impact a sharp spark. He smacked my tender ass with the head of his cock, then pushed. He entered me slow and blunt, a deliberate, unyielding pressure that stole the air from my lungs. I recoiled, not from pain, but from the sheer, overwhelming delight of my own submission. He pulled out, spit on himself again, and sank back in, deeper this time. A yelp escaped my lips. “Take it, bitch. You know you want it,” Jack said, his voice tight with excitement. With my head turned to the side, writhing in a pleasurable agony, I found the words. “Fuck me, bro.” Jack hopped into the flatbed, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and fed his cock into my waiting mouth. “Choke on it, freshman.” He was filming, not with malice, but with a kind of pride, as if he were capturing the exact moment I shed my old skin and became this new, hungry thing. Ryan’s pace quickened, spurred on by my muffled moans and the sound of me gagging. He came in a series of sharp, jerking thrusts, a warmth that bloomed deep inside me. A moment later, Jack’s grip tightened in my hair, and he held me down as he filled my mouth. We were so lost in our own world, our own little universe of sweat and skin, that we never heard the car pull up. Not the crunch of tires on the gravel, not the footsteps on the dirt. We only heard the throat-clearing, the loud, pointed “Ahem,” that cut through the haze like a knife. We all froze. A park ranger stood by the fire pit, his sunglasses hiding his eyes, his expression unreadable as he scanned the scene: me, naked and bent over the tailgate, Ryan and Jack with their dicks still out, the phone still clutched in Jack’s hand. “What’s going on here, boys, huh?” he asked, his voice flat and clinical. He commanded, “Go put some clothes on and get me the beers.” We scrambled, the spell broken. We did exactly as he said, our movements clumsy and sudden. He let us off with a warning, his lips a thin, disapproving line. “I’ll be back. Keep it clean, boys,” he said, then got in his truck and headed off down the trail. A heavy silence descended. “Shit, man,” Jack said, finally breaking it. “That fucker took the weed.” “Don’t worry, bro,” Ryan said, a slow smile spreading across his face as he nodded toward the trail. “We have backup.” The tension from the ranger’s visit evaporated in the crackle of the fire Ryan built back up. As the flames took hold, he laid four thick steaks on the grill, the scent of searing meat and wood smoke a powerful, grounding force. We were still buzzing with adrenaline and the lingering thrill of being caught. It was in that charged quiet that I heard it—a low, distant rumble that grew into the distinctive, guttural roar of a motorcycle. It pulled into our clearing, engine cutting off to leave a ringing silence. A young man swung off the bike, helmet tucked under his arm. He was lean, with a sharp, confident gaze that took in the three of us. “Hey,” he said, nodding at Jack and Ryan. He shrugged off a heavy backpack, setting it down with a thud that sounded like a promise. He unzipped it, revealing a dark forest of beer, and a gleaming flask of whiskey. “Got the goods?” Jack asked, a hopeful edge to his voice. The guy—Alex—smiled, a slow, knowing thing. He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small, baggie, the green inside vibrant even in the dimming light. A collective sigh of relief went through us. We rejoiced, the moment feeling like a successful heist, and returned to the fire, our spirits renewed. The brothers introduced me, and we all fell on the food like wolves, devouring our meal under the darkening sky, washing it down with cold beer. The firelight danced in Alex’s eyes as he looked at me, a new, hungry appraisal in his gaze. He set his beer down, his voice cutting through the crackle of the flames. “You want to drink my beer, smoke my weed, then you eat and fuck my hole,” he said. It wasn’t a question. He looked from me to the brothers. “I always bitch out for these two, but now you. Eat my hole, faggot.” He stood, unbuckling his pants and letting them fall. He bent over a log, grabbed the back of my head, and shoved my face right into his ass. The world shrank to that single point of contact—the heat of him, the taste, the raw intimacy. He went down on Ryan as he ground against my face, his movements fluid and practiced. “Alex is a good friend,” Jack said, his voice a low rumble of approval. “He always gets us off. I think he likes you, freshman. Now get in that boy’s ass.” I pulled back, gasping for air, but Jack’s frustration was immediate. “No, freshman,” he growled, pulling my head out by the hair. He pressed the poppers bottle to my nose again. “Deeper.” The rush hit me, and the world dissolved into a haze of need. Jack shoved my face back into Alex’s ass, and this time, I lost myself completely. Alex started to wiggle, gyrating on my face, his moans vibrating around Ryan’s cock. I felt Jack’s hands on me, slick with lube, stroking my own hard cock, jerking me in time with Alex’s movements. “You like this boy’s ass, freshman?” Jack asked. I could only manage a muffled, “Uh-huh.” “I think you should fuck him, freshman,” Jack commanded. “Fuck yeah, bro,” Alex mumbled, releasing my head. I rose, my legs unsteady, and guided myself into him. He was tight, hot, and yielding. I started to move, finding a rhythm. Alex pulled off Ryan’s cock, turning his head to look back at me. “Come on, bro, fuck me,” he urged. I grabbed his ass with both hands and dug in, burying myself to the hilt. Jack fed Alex more poppers, and Alex’s body went pliant, then he started to ride me, taking control. “Who taught you how to fuck, bro? Your mother?” he taunted, his voice breathless and sharp. In a sudden, powerful move, he pulled off my cock, spun me around, and pushed me to my knees on top of a log. He kicked my legs apart and rammed his cock into me. It was thick and blunt, a tree trunk of a thing that forced a yelp from my lips. “This is how you fuck, bro,” he grunted, pounding me without mercy. The pleasure was so intense it was agony. “Yes, sir,” I moaned, my voice breaking. “Take it, bitch,” Jack said, appearing in front of me. He fed me poppers and shoved his cock in my mouth, the dual assault overwhelming my senses. Tears streamed down my face, mingling with the spit and precum. Ryan moved around us, a shadow in the firelight. “Hold your hole open, freshman,” he commanded. I reached back, spreading my cheeks for him as he took a photo. The flash was blinding in the dark, a sudden, harsh light that captured my total surrender. “For the memories,” he said, his voice a low, satisfied smirk. I didn’t even flinch. I wanted them to have it. I wanted to be a memory, a story they would tell. I wanted to be theirs. They used me in turns, a slow, deliberate rhythm. One in my mouth, one in my ass, then they would switch without a word. The only sounds were the crackle of the fire, the wet slap of skin on skin, and my own moans, guttural and unashamed. I was a conduit for their pleasure, a vessel to be filled. The poppers were a constant, a chemical haze that kept me floating just above the pain, lost in a sea of pure sensation. Moaning like a bitch every time one of them used me. I begged them to “breed me”, words I’d never said out loud before that weekend. When they did, one after the other, I came so hard I saw white. When Ryan obliged, his thrusts becoming short and sharp as he emptied himself deep inside me, my own orgasm ripped through me. It was violent and blinding, a white-hot explosion that left me shaking and spent, my body convulsing in the dirt. Jack followed, then Alex, each one leaving their mark, their warmth mixing inside me until I was overflowing with them. When they were finished, they simply pulled out and retreated to the chairs, leaving me kneeling and gasping in the firelight. They sat back, sated and watching me with a lazy, proprietary gaze. “Beer,” Jack said, not a question, but a command. I pushed myself up on trembling legs, my body aching and numb, and walked to the cooler. I fetched them fresh beers, my hole slick and leaking, my legs unsteady. I served them, then knelt by the fire, feeling their cum ooze out of me, a slow, warm trickle down my thighs. I felt like a grateful little slut, and I’d never been more content in my life. We eventually passed out in the tent, the four of us, a tangled pile of naked limbs, wrapped in each other's filth and warmth. Sunday morning was softer. The light was amber and hazy, the fire nothing but glowing embers. I awoken last, the taste of them still in my mouth. I crawled out of the sleeping bag and knelt by the fire, giving morning head to whoever stirred first, then the next, then the next. They passed me around like a joint, their hands sleepy and gentle in my hair as the coffee pot gurgled over the flames. After the coffee, they bent me over the familiar log one last time. They fucked me slowly, almost reverently, in the quiet morning light. Ryan first, then Jack, then Alex, each one finishing in my ass while I knelt in the dirt, a grateful supplicant. Their combined release oozed out of me, mixing with the sweat and the morning dew. My legs numb and shaking, Ryan wiped a thumb across my hole, pushed it into my mouth. I sucked it clean for him. Fuck that taste is amazing. As we started to break camp, I noticed the fishing poles in the back of the truck, pristine and untouched. A smile touched my lips. We never once touched them. Can’t wait to go fishing again On the drive home I sat in the middle again, my head on Ryan’s thigh, Jack’s hand tangled in my hair. Every time we hit a bump in the dirt road, I felt a phantom echo of them inside me, a deep, satisfying ache. Ryan traced lazy circles on my neck. “Same time next month?” “Oh yeah,” I nodded, I said, voice hoarse. “Any fucking time you want bro”. My throat raw, body wrecked, sore and floating, heart pounding like I’d finally found where I belonged. The lake disappeared behind us, but I could still taste wood smoke and them every time I breathed in. That weekend was a sacred bond between us, and a fantasy come true. Fishing with the boys had a new meaning for me after that, which repeated as often as we could.

something must have gone down, cause i was on it fine earlier today but you're right, i just tried again now and buffer buffer buffer do you have much luck there in general. its worse than bbrt for me in the lack of frequent engagement. but at least i do hook up from bbrt. NKP thus far is just guys way far away hitting me up to see if i wanna buy T 😜

So, is anyone else able to see NKP? All I get when I try to navigate to the site is the spinning disk of death and dispair.

A live meetup would be delightful.