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Part One: Familiar Disasters They both remembered the last time they saw each other. Two years ago. Downtown. The station that always smelled like metal and rain. They’d spotted each other across the tracks. Juan on one side, Daniel on the other. Just long enough for their eyes to lock before the train shot away. They were left with echoes from their past, not all of it good, but most of it made of things they still craved. Two years was enough time to become different people. New jobs, new friends, new apartments. They’d each slept with other men, learned new ways to be cold, new ways to be kind. Time did what time does: it layered distance over memory. And yet, that moment at the station had been like hitting a reset button. Everything they’d buried came back, the heat, resentment, want. It made it easier, later, to tell themselves that the pull between them was just being human and horny, something you could outgrow. Until tonight. Daniel saw him before he was ready to see him. Juan was walking down the street toward him, framed in the yellow spill of the bar signs. He looked older, broader in the shoulders, a bit more tired around the eyes, but somehow even more dangerous for it. Daniel’s body clocked him before his brain did: the remembered heat of his skin, the way he’d move on top of him, the weight of him. The one Puerto Rican he’d ever dated, and the only one who’d ever really taken control from him in bed. Their eyes met over the blur of people between them. Daniel felt his breath hitch. Juan’s lips curved into a slow, surprised grin; Daniel felt his own answering it before he could stop himself. They closed the distance like magnets. “God, it’s been too long,” Juan said, voice low, right against Daniel’s ear as he pulled him into a hug. God, I want to taste him, he thought. Daniel inhaled a memory, sporty cologne and a faint trace of smoke. His body reacted to it as if it knew what to do. “I know, I know,” Daniel sighed, clinging a beat too long. “But here we are.” He forced himself to pull back. He forced himself not to stare too hard into Juan’s eyes. Don’t be an idiot, he thought. Don’t fall right back in. Juan hated small talk, but he could not let Daniel walk away this time. So they talked about work, apartments, aging parents. But it was all scaffolding around what was really happening. Juan noticed that their bodies kept drifting closer. Every topic they talked about was really them saying, “I don’t want this to end at the sidewalk.” We gotta stop making up excuses not to say goodbye, Juan told himself. So he admitted it, and then Daniel did too: they had been cruising for a hookup. Juan finally stopped mid-sentence and looked at Daniel slowly, in a way that was no longer subtle. His attraction to Daniel’s body, and the sense of ownership he still felt over it, brought on a smile. “Come with me,” he said, like it wasn’t a question. Daniel reached for Juan’s hand and threaded their fingers together, confident and familiar, and Daniel let himself be led. They slipped off the main drag, past the noise of the bars, into a narrow alley that smelled like bleach and a bad weekend. Daniel’s chest tightened with recognition. He knew this route. So did Juan. This was the back way—no signs—to the basement bar everyone just called The Ditch. If you knew, you knew. From the street it looked like nothing, just a half-hidden door at the bottom of a short flight of concrete steps. But Daniel remembered the first time Juan had brought him here, the way the air inside changed so fast; it was heavy, dark, thick, sweaty, humid. Down there, anything went. As they reached the top of the stairs, Juan’s thumb stroked the inside of Daniel’s wrist, slow and deliberate. “Nervous?” he asked, glancing back with that same crooked smile Daniel had never really gotten over. Daniel swallowed, feeling like he was fifteen again. “With you?” he shrugged. “Always.” They slipped inside, where the music was loud, the crowd dense, and the smell of weed mixed with sweat and poppers filled the air. They pushed their way through to the bar, had two shots of tequila each, and wandered deeper into The Ditch. Juan spotted a couple of guys he knew huddled in a far-off corner; they were passing a small glass pipe around. He looked at Daniel, whose eyes flashed with excitement, a look that made Juan think of doing nasty things. They took hit after hit from the pipe, each inhalation ending much too soon. Juan grinned widely at Daniel and pulled him into a deep kiss, his hands roaming up and down Daniel's body, faster and harder. He firmly pushed Daniel against the wall, and Daniel felt just how much Juan hadn't changed. He was still the dominant one, always in control. It excited him but also scared him a little. "We should go somewhere more private," Juan whispered in his ear, nibbling on it playfully. Daniel moaned, unable to do anything but nod his head in agreement. Juan slipped some cash to the guy with the pipe and then pocketed a small baggie of crystal meth. Juan led them to the second floor, where different sections had different activities going on. They found an empty room with a few mattresses on the floor. Juan locked the door behind them, pulling Daniel into another passionate kiss. He shivered and Juan smiled at that. Instead of saying what they both wanted to, they kept kissing. Daniel pulled at Juan's shirt, ripping it off, and his hands tugged the belt open on Juan's jeans. Daniel was so hungry to taste Juan's cock again. The memory of it was relentless. "You can't resist it, can you?" Juan smirked, looking down at Daniel, now on his knees. Daniel hungrily took him into his mouth. Juan was still just as thick as he remembered, and his scent made Daniel forget anything but serving the man in front of him. He slid his tongue along the shaft, letting spit drip whenever he could, coating it. Juan had taught Daniel how to do this. Looking down at Daniel on his cock made Juan feel powerful. The thought of another person worshiping him, wanting him, helped all the dark things he would and wanted to do to Daniel come back to him. Daniel was tossed onto the mattress, and then his pants were quickly pulled off. The meth made his thought process slower. Juan crawled on top of Daniel, his dark eyes smoldering with lust as he gazed down at him. Daniel was scared but aroused by the intensity of Juan's desire. "Remember how I used to take care of you?" Juan whispered, running his thick fingers through Daniel's messy hair, tangling the strands between his fingers. "Yeah," Daniel breathed out softly, his voice trembling with anticipation, "But that was a long time ago." "Well," Juan chuckled darkly, "Some things never change." He positioned himself and pushed his uncut cock into Daniel's eager hole. He grunted from how warm it was, how good it felt. The stretching seemed to go on and on, Daniel's body accommodating Juan's impressive girth inch by slow inch. Daniel yelped out in a mix of pleasure and pain, but was determined not to tell Juan to stop. Instead, he wrapped his legs around Juan's muscular lower back, urging him deeper inside. Once Juan was fully in, he paused, savoring the tight, pulsing warmth, taking hits from his pipe before pressing the glass tube to Daniel’s lips, making sure he took a hit as well. The crystal bolted through their bodies and they felt dizzy. Juan's style was unmistakable: forceful, rough, and utterly demanding. It was as if he was staking his claim on Daniel's body, taking complete ownership for his own pleasure. With every thrust, Juan asserted his dominance, leaving no doubt in Daniel's mind about who was in control. Daniel remembered begging for Juan to slow down in the past. He would feel pain, but mostly it was unfamiliar pleasure—he knew that now. Juan would never listen to him; he took what was his. The familiarity of it all didn't diminish his desire or willingness to submit entirely to Juan's desires; instead, it fueled Daniel's darkest cravings, bringing them to the surface with aching intensity. Juan went to that animal place he could go to when he fucked. It was as if there was nothing but what he wanted, and nothing mattered anyway. He loved the rhythm their skin slapping together was making. He stared down at Juan, who whined with pleasure. Daniel was so small compared to him. I could destroy him, Juan thought. He watched his hands gripping Daniel's hips, fingers digging in as he slammed into him, harder and faster with each passing moment. Juan felt Daniel's muscles squeezing around his cock as it slid in and out. This was new; Daniel had never done this before. "You're squeezing my cock? Don't want me to pull it out, huh?" Juan taunted. Daniel shook his head, "No, I don't want you to pull it out." Juan slowed down to long strokes, pulling his dick up to the tip and slamming it back in. "Ah! Oh yes. Get deep!" Daniel yelled. "Look at you," Juan brought his face down to Daniel's, "You've turned into a little slut…" Daniel got nervous; had he gone too far with wanting it? He stammered, "I– … I –...Juan…" Juan cut him off, mocking him, "Don't explain yourself. You've turned into a slut for anyone's cock." Slowly, he put his hand on the back of Daniel's neck, using his thumb to push his jaw down to open his mouth. Then he spit in it. Daniel swallowed it hungrily. "I just need to remind you how this fucking runs. I need to remind you that the only dick you're hungry for is mine." Juan gritted his teeth and started railing Daniel. Crying out, he managed, "Yes, show me. Please, I only want you." "How could you live without this?" Juan grunted, his voice filled with arrogant satisfaction. He knew how good he felt inside Daniel, and he would take advantage of that knowledge to push them both higher. "I can't… I don't…." Daniel whimpered, his voice a hoarse, rasping moan, "You feel amazing." Daniel's fingers clawed at Juan's slick, muscular back, desperate for a hold on the man who was giving him such intense pleasure, which in turn caused his erection to become even more engorged. With a rumbling growl, Juan began to thrust in earnest, savagely pounding into Daniel - each stroke deliberate, sharp, and powerful. He reached around and grabbed Daniel's thigh, yanking it higher to open him up, to take him completely. Daniel gasped as Juan's thick cock struck that deep, secret place inside him, sending electrifying pleasure coursing through his body. Their moans and breaths were desperate, the sounds of their wet skin slapping against each other filled the room, creating an erotic beat that pulsed through the air. Daniel's gagging moans fueled Juan's relentless rhythm, and sweat poured down their straining bodies as their movements grew more feverish. Juan's thrusts grew more urgent, erratic, and forceful as he neared his climax, the meth fogging his mind and prolonging the exquisite agony of his heightened pleasure. He couldn't hold back any longer, the urge to spill his seed now an overwhelming, pulsing force that threatened to consume him entirely. Daniel could feel Juan swelling inside him, his cock throbbing with the need for release. "Cum on my face," Daniel gasped, "Please…" With a guttural roar, Juan pulled out and grabbed Daniel's hair, forcing his face upward as hot jets of his seed erupted and splashed across Daniel's flushed cheeks. Some of the cum dripped along his skin and into his mouth, only intensifying Daniel's own climax as his erection pulsed and shuddered through its release. They collapsed onto the mattress, trying to catch their breath in the aftermath of their explosive encounter. Their bodies were spent, their minds reeling, and their souls bearing the indelible marks of their all-consuming passion. Despite the intense pleasure they'd just experienced, a hollowness now lingered in the air, an echo of regret that whispered in the shadows. They knew their actions had consequences and that this momentary escape would come at a cost. As they dressed and walked out of the room, they avoided each other's gaze, hoping that even the darkest corners of their minds would stop trying to find ways for them to see each other again. But deep down, they both knew that they were already too far gone, too damaged, and too aware of what else was out there, waiting for them in the shadows. Juan walked with Daniel until they were out of the alley. Juan turned to Daniel, "I'm always gonna want you," he began, "just admit that you're always gonna want me." He finished before disappearing into the night. Daniel stood there for a moment, staring after him. He lit another cigarette, exhaling a long stream of smoke as he walked towards his car. "This was so stupid," he said as he put his head on the door of his car. The party, the drugs, and the sex had filled the time and helped it pass by. But doing it together helped make sense of the cycle they couldn’t escape. They were already too damaged and too aware of what else was out there. Was it so bad? [END OF PART ONE]

I'll pass on your compliment .... they'll all be waiting for your arrival.

This ^^^. You embed your dick inside the bottoms mind long before you stretch his hole around it. Getting the bottom to let go of any anxiety and feel all their needs and arousal is key. The more turned on and needy for dick I am, the more ready my hole is. Even eleven thick inches slide in a treat with the right mind-fucking beforehand.

There are a number of ways to initiate a first-class fuck with a tight-holed bottom, and patience is needed from the Top. 1. Work the hole with your fingers, mouth, graduated dildos, starting gently. 2. Keep in constant contact (verbally) with the bottom, regarding what he's feeling, and gauge your efforts accordingly. 3. Include pleasurable acts in the "opening" process, first and foremost with your mouth and tongue. 4. Verbal praise can work wonders on the prospective bottom's mind, and thus his breedhole. Always keep the positive commentary flowing, unless or until you realize the jig is up, and you won't/don't want to spend more time on it/whatever reason. In any case, be kind. 5. Keep working the hole unless it becomes clear that little progress is being made. Be sure to compliment the bottom, encourage him, and if he apologizes, refuse to accept that apology. Rather, praise him, encourage him, reinforce his lusts. Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither is an experienced cumdump. Know that if you can reach his mind, your cock will usually reach his fuckbutton too. Never criticize the bottom's intent: reinforcement of his cravings is crucial, even if it's not going to be your cock that breeds him.

A really hot and horny story, I especially love the sling fucking scene and the real bug chasing decision of Dr. Matthew, awesome. Looking forward to the next chapters and the moment Dr. Matthew joins the brotherhood, earning his tattoo.

Yes, that's exactly what I like. I love the menu!!!

I was taught by my Uncle and his Friends ( GRRRRRR Bear group ) at a early age - favorite place the Woods !

...and maybe a hole he really loves the reactions from, and the feeling of being inside. If still more straight or unsure, and wants to stay safely on the side of "dicking you down" versus "having sex WITH you". Bitch out, as a term works too. Certainly wants to be in control, but that's definitely the straight thing again I'd think. I've definitely had some boys who weren't so much my type but goddamn they felt :so: good, I loved that same position you described. Less making out and more enjoying how they made me feel and how my cock made them react, etc.

There is nothing humiliating about it! I always leave it up to the man I’m servicing, if he blows it on my face I wear it like a badge of honor. I worked hard to get that nut out of his balls!

Please add me @Jasso1968 , I love the idea of it

Yeah they don't pick up on the social ques like we do, and are horrible at dealing with rejection. I can get laid with a couple of stares while playing a game of pool, while they are franticly typing away on their phones for a guy on Sniffies 6 miles away. They also appear to be obsessed with the picture perfect guy to hook-up with, while I know the guy who's a little rough around the edges is going to be a better night.