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Yes, yes, yes ...... it's almost suppertime here ...... more like a late lunch for you though?

To the OP though, it appears to me that misogyny, racism, "us-against-them-ism" has made a fast come-back across the board in the US. Worse, it's not merely happenstance, it's deliberate. Cruising is just one more way that mess is rearing it's ugly vacant head.,

First, welcome, blackholeson, to BZ. The "responses" only start to work once you've replied to some of the posts/ideas of other members. That will happen relatively quickly, assuming you offer your input on a number of threads (of conversation). The idea is to reward guys that comment on other guy's thoughts, and also generate your own threads of discussion for other guys to comment on. It'll happen sooner than you think - if you keep reading, offering your thoughts, i.e. participating. Cheers !!

Welcome to BZ, ScorpioMuscle. This often happens here on BZ - a "thread" of conversation winds down, and gets shunted aside for a while (years, maybe) as other threads of conversations emerge. The disused threads don't "go away" - they sit there until a guy like you re-energizes them, and sometimes they gain a fresh "run" of conversation. Thus, there is no "final outcome" - the thread has simply re-emerged, and we can resurrect it or not - according to how the replies/responses develop. Again, welcome to BZ.

I'm sure I've previously answered, but a little spit and precum for the initial entry, then the ass usually takes over and starts producing its own natural lube, quite often in copious quantities.

I think it is more everyone is looking for a niche fantasy. Online porn creators have made a scene of just about anything that can be imagined, but now guys are looking for that act no matter how small of a group is into it, and will keep looking for it online instead of going cruising for an actual dick, mouth or ass. When our type of cruising was the norm, everyone there knew they were expected to at least let another guy suck their dick, most wanted to suck a dick, and a significant number was hoping to fuck or get fucked. Now guys are looking for their own very specific "sex" act, many of which don't involve any kind of penetration or even touching a dick. It's more like gay romantic asexuality.

I agree, but then it's their right - every guy has the ability to yea or nay. One way to get around that though, is to go to busy fuckjoints; I know not every guy has access to places where every guy fucks every other guy, but when a certain amount of guys are in the same fuckjoint at the same time, every guy will wind up getting what he needs.

Especially for Easter, an exciting and intense story. The story will consist of several parts. Here is the first part, largely the introduction, but which is an important part of the ongoing story. have fun reading and I look forward to the reactions and reviews. Part 1: My first move The bus smells like stale air and old vinyl seats, but I barely notice it. My fingers tap against my thigh, restless. Outside the window, the city lights blur past-neon signs for bars, a small laundromat still open at this hour, clusters of people laughing under streetlamps. I' ve only been in the city for three weeks ; everything still feels so new. It is a stark contrast to the sleepy hum of my hometown, a place where the biggest excitement is the annual county fair. Here, every brick, every shadow, holds a story, a secret. I press my forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching the neon blur of storefronts paint streaks across the pane. My breath fogs against the glass, a transient cloud obscuring the urban landscape, much like the uncertainty swirling inside me. So many people, so many different kinds and stories . I adjust the collar of my shirt, though it is not tight -just something to do with my hands. The party invite had said *Easter Bunny Bash*, all caps like it was shouting at me. I'd signed up without thinking much. I just clicked the button before I could chicken out. Now, the bus is slowly nearing the address, and my stomach twists . Not exactly nervous. More like... electric. After a while, the bus groaned and started to slow down. It halts, a sigh of hydraulic air escaping underneath. *This is it.* I grab the strap of my small duffel bag, my knuckles white. The address I'd painstakingly typed into my phone is glowing, a digital beacon guiding me to this new chapter. It is not just a new city; it is a new me. The small town had offered comfort, yes, but also a cage, its bars forged from whispered judgments and unspoken expectations. Here, anonymity is a cloak, a shield, and permission, all rolled into one. I can be anyone, do anything. Tonight, I plan to do "everything". Stepping off the bus, the night air hits me, thick with the scent of exhaust fumes, something sweet from a nearby bakery, and an underlying current of something electric, almost dangerous. My eyes scan the street. A block ahead, a constellation of neon lights bleeds into the darkness, painting the sidewalk in lurid reds, blues, and electric purples. The sauna is easy to spot. A glowing pink sign pulses above the door, casting ripples of light across the wet pavement. - The Rabbit Hole-, the sign pulsating in neon pink light. Below it, a smaller sign, equally vibrant, flashes : Easter Bunny Bash - Tonight! photo of the building and the street Men are walking in and out, most of them dressed casually , almost anonymous . A nervous feeling is stirring in my stomach, like anxious butterflies. This is not just any party. This is *the* party. The one I signed up for online, a daring click of a button that felt both terrifying and exhilarating at the time I signed in. I, Luke, nineteen years old, fresh out of the small-town closet, am about to lose my virginity right here in the big city. Not to some awkward fumbling in a college dorm, but here, in this labyrinth of desire, at a gay sauna, surrounded by men who know exactly what they do and want... what I want... My past flickers through my mind like a poorly edited movie: stolen glances in high school hallways, the hesitant, clumsy experiments with my own body under the sheets, the few furtive hookups that never went beyond touching, kissing , or a quick blowjob in a parked car or toilet. *Sucking cock.* That was the furthest I have gone in my sexual experience. I am still a blank canvas, eager for color, for texture, for the messy, vibrant strokes of real intimacy. I crave more than just sensation; I crave connection, even if it is just for one night, a raw, primal connection that bypasses all the societal filters, getting more experience , to take the next step in my own exploration of my sexuality. I want it and I'll get it tonight. The closer I get to the neon glow, the louder the music gets, coming out of the building, a low, rhythmic beat that seems to synchronize with my own heartbeat . My hands are getting clammy. What am I exactly expecting? Do I have doubts? I'm getting more and more nervous. The website had been vague, tantalizing. "Embrace your inner bunny," I had read, "let your desires run wild." I had clicked "bottom," a decision that felt both instinctual and strategic. I knew I liked to submit, to be taken, to be led . That's what I always do. I always let the other guy take the lead, to seduce me, to kiss me, and even guide me to suck his cock. So I'll let myself be led again, but with a goal... I want to be filled, stretched, claimed. The thought sends a shiver down my spine, a mix of fear and anticipation. Slowly, I walk to the entrance . A bored-looking guy with a clipboard glances up as I approach . "Hi, im Luke, i signed up for...." I stutter nervously. "Confirmation mail..." he says loudly . I fumble for my phone, pulling up the confirmation email. "No name, just a code. All anonymous" he says, almost confirming that that was why he didn't want to hear my name. He scans it, nods , and jerks his chin toward the dimly lit hallway behind him. "Front hall. They'll get you set up." The guy opens the door as I slowly walk in. I swallow deeply , nervous as I am, as I take a step inside. The front hall is warmer than I expected, humid air sticking to my skin the second I step inside. It smells faintly of chlorine and something muskier underneath. A thumping bass of the music is vibrating through the floor, up my feet, and into my bones. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. This is it. No turning back now. Let's see what this party will bring me and how I'll walk out of here again. I step through a short, dimly lit corridor ; the sound of laughter and distant music is growing louder before I emerge into an open hall. My eyes widen . The room is a riot of color and guys. It is turned into some sort of Easter bunny setting - lots of pink, yellow flowers, green fake grass, eggs... you name it. A group of guys is swirling around, most still wearing their casual street clothes but with an undeniable air of expectation. There are signs hanging on the ceiling , tops and bottoms , guiding which line you have to stand in . I just arrived on time, at the starting time, so if I have to guess, most guys are already inside. I look at which line I have to stand in; bottom , there are just four guys in front of me in this line. As I walk to the line, I see him. He is standing in the center of the hall, lit up by some pulsating light, a figure who embodies pure power. His eyes are dark black, his jawline tight. His body... just huge and muscular . He is enormous, a towering sculpture of muscle and dark skin, dressed in a surprisingly pristine white bunny suit. The ears, long and floppy, almost try to hide a face that has all sharp angles , a face that shows sexual amusement, a dominant sexual face and grin. A broad, confident smile stretches across his lips, revealing perfectly white teeth. His chest presses tight against the soft, fluffy fabric. Tight, as if he were about to tear out of it. His arms... bigger than my upper legs... a rough but gentle , most sexy fluffy bunny I have ever seen. He is holding a large wicker basket, overflowing with plastic eggs in every color: ruby red, emerald green, sapphire blue, sunny yellow. My breath hitched. He... this bunny... is breathtaking, a walking, breathing fantasy. My nervousness spikes, replaced by a potent cocktail of lust, excitement, and awe. The line is slowly, but steadily , getting smaller and smaller. Before I even know it, I'm in the front , still gazing at him. His smile widens and a predatory gleam appears in his dark gaze. "Welcome, little bunny," his voice rumbles, deep and smooth, like warm honey. It cuts through the music playing in the background , his voice pulling me even more into his orbit while he gestures to the basket. "Pick your fate." My legs feel like lead, but I force myself forward, one step after another, until I stand right before him. His presence is overwhelming, a heat radiating from him that makes my skin prickle. He smells a bit exotic, a mix of spices and clean sweat. I swallow as I reach into the basket, my fingers brushing against the smooth, cool plastic of the eggs before grabbing a bright yellow one. It feels lighter than it looks. Slowly, I pull it out of the basket. "A yellow one," he smirks while his eyes twinkle. He watches me, deep in my eyes ; his gaze is intense as I twist the two halves apart from the fake yellow egg. Inside, nestled on a bed of synthetic grass, I find a single, vibrant yellow jockstrap. It is made of a thin, stretchy, almost translucent fabric. I can't imagine it will hide anything, especially my ass. My heart is pulsing in my throat . I know what this means ; I need to wear this. This is the bottom sign . All the guys signed in as bottoms would get special colored clothing, and I just picked my color to play. The black guy, dressed up as a bunny, leans closer to me, his voice dropping to a low, dominastic whisper, his breath warm against my ear. The scent of him is intoxicating, creating a shiver that runs down my spine. "This means your special color is yellow, little bunny ," he smirks softly. He pulls back as he straightens his body again, his smile slowly turning into a full-blown grin. "Go to the changing rooms. You'll find them at the back ; just walk down that hallway and go to the right. Get rid of everything else. This," he points to the yellow jockstrap, "is all you'll be wearing tonight." I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. My voice gone, so I can only nod to him slowly , my eyes still locked into his. "And listen carefully, boy," he continues, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music, but intimate enough to feel like a secret shared only with me. "Anyone who picks a yellow egg, they get to play with you. No exceptions... And the rules? You set them. Or you don't. The party host is not responsible for anything that happens in here tonight. This is your journey. Your adventure. Your pleasure. And your pain." A shiver of fear, excitement, temptation , and lust shoots through me. *My pleasure. My pain.* The words resonate deep within. Some primal feelings occur , the feeling of being hunted, wanting to be hunted, wanting to be owned. Some feeling I did not know I possessed. "Understood?" he asks, his gaze watching me deep in my eyes. I only manage to nod again, my voice lost somewhere in the sudden rush of adrenaline. "Good boy." He winks . "Now go. Have fun." I turn around , the yellow jockstrap clutched in my hand. Slowly, I start to walk up the hallway, then to the right and right to the changing rooms . I'll pick one . The changing room is small, individual, with a narrow bench, a mirror, and a hook on the wall. I slip inside, the flimsy door clicking shut behind me. A single fluorescent light above me casts a harsh glow on the worn tile floor. I strip off my clothes, each item feeling heavier than the last. My jeans, my t-shirt, my boxers - I lay them in a pile on the bench, a small mound of fabric representing the cautious, inexperienced boy I am about to shake off. In just a few minutes, I am completely naked in the changing room , watching myself in a mirror that's hanging in front of me, my white naked skin in the cool air, my blond curly hair . My body, fit from years of casual sports, has no chest hair ; my pubes are carefully shaved smooth just for tonight. I feel exposed, vulnerable, but ready. As I watch myself, I'm getting a bit hard ; it is a mix of nerves and desire. I can feel my cock swelling up slightly from expectations of what will come. I pick up the yellow jockstrap. The fabric feels surprisingly soft against my fingers while I pull it up my legs, over my hips, the elastic waistband tight against my skin. My cock, clearly visible and a bit hard, is pushing against the thin fabric. This fabric won't hide anything, I guess. My ass, round and clearly visible , the fabric is pushing tight against my hole. I feel exposed, ready to be used. It is revealing, almost obscene, but a thrill shoots through me. This is it. This is my uniform for the night. My invitation. My surrender. I stare at my reflection in the mirror on the wall. My blonde curly hair, my eyes wide and a little wild. I take a deep, shaky breath. *No limits.* That's what I'd told myself before I signed in. I want to be dominated, to be challenged, to flirt, to play. I want to experience everything, every sensation, every nuance of pleasure and pain. This is not just about losing my virginity; it is about finding myself, pushing boundaries, exploring the depths of my own desires. I run a hand over my shaven pubes, and grab my balls through the thin yellow fabric. The jockstrap feels like a second skin, so tight and tender. The thought of all the eyes, all these hands, on me, on my body, sends a wave of heat through me. I imagine the hard fucking, the exquisite pain, the primal release. A dark, exhilarating anticipation pulses in my chest. I take one last look at my reflection. The boy from the small town is gone. Tonight, I am the yellow bottom , a willing prey, ready to step into the unknown. I push the changing room door open to the other side. The sound of a party rushes in, the music, the beats, the men talking, sounds of pleasure and whirlpools and splashing, a symphony of desire, as I walk my first steps into the gay sauna, into..... the Easter Bunny Bash.....

Simply, beautifully, honestly and perfectly said.

Well, actually I prefer loads off previous cocks, particularly if the hole is somewhat hairy (it helps hold the previous loads in), and it looks better, feels better, tastes better, etc etc.