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Fear is always a negative to pleasure Negativity is fatal to desires of pleasure. You are obviously a PIG, well be a pig & don't let anything stop you. Being pissed fucked is rarely off a pig bottoms list & besides who cares if you get addicted to piss. Foreplay is always the best start to a long session & what is more pleasurable than a delicious 😋 hot golden shower, with a piss chaser. Piss soaked bodies grinding together, getting steamy & hot for the real pig play has no equal. My advice, TRY IT & hopefully you get to be a real pig & a PISS ADDICT😜 😜 😜 😜.

Staying at a guest house part of my stay then moving to a hotel, would really like to find open minded bearish type who would like to get together for long extended uninhibited play with endless possibilities.. points if you’re into groups and like spit roasting an eager bottom.

I appreciate your perspective and counsel. I continue to learn more about how the site operates. Thanks for your response.

Sounds HOT to me — I try to put a plug or something in my hole every day that I don’t get fucked.

I’ll be going to subway sauna from 5pm onwards. If anyone top here want to connect and load me up then, feel free to DM ! 🙂 any loads, and will drink your piss and swallow your spits too!

Great suggestion! I made a comment to him this morning the he was "looking fierce, and must be spending all of his free time at the gym" — he acknowledged he was working hard on his body (I noted it definitely showed and I was feeling a little dad-body-ish compared to him) —to which he suggested we should work out (at his gym) together sometime — he’d be happy for the company and accountability. I will definitely be heading to the gym with him, if he is serious! Hopefully the sauna after a hard work out?? — but keeping it all in check! Slow and steady...

oh fuck yes! This is so hot! I want it bad.

He wonders who the first chaser was. The first time—before it even became an actual thought, before it crystallized as an urge. He wants to know what cocksucker got the idea in the first place, before it was conscious, before it had language. Did this faggot read about the gay cancer and immediately get a boner? Did his body recognize the drive for destruction before he himself knew it? Did he just feel that initial warmth rush to fill his cock, then his hole, causing it to twitch.. and that was that? He wonders about the sequence of events. When the dick ditch of a man, on his back with his hole gaped open, uttered the plea: “give me your poz seed,” or some desperate variation of it. And then like a virus, it spread. The drive, the hunger… do we only recognize when we are told, like the age old “don’t know what you dont know?” Or did this urge exist in all men regardless of sexuality? Maybe he had no choice. Maybe he gave in when he realized he was too small to stop what fate had already decided. Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe the Top was the unwilling one, like it was for Matthew. Resisting until he finally found himself balls deep, raw, finally letting go and relishing the sublime feeling he’d denied himself for so long, all in the name of… what? Safety? There’s nothing safe about sex. There never has been. The danger has always existed. We can do our best to prevent it, but at the end of the day—at the very end of the day—this is what we are: men. Not just gay men, but men. Men who like to fuck and seed, no—need. And no amount of latex or rubber will ever get in their way of men, ever again. With that, Matthew exhales and allows the warm grip of the twenty year old cumdump’s hole begin its work of milking out the last drops of his toxic seed. He lets the pleasure settle in his body and cock, feels the hole squeeze and relax, feeling the poisonous load drain from his formerly heavy balls. He doesn’t even realize what’s happened—how hard and deep he’s come—until he opens his eyes and sees that he’s still fucking the dump, his hole wet with death seed being pounded deeper and deeper in long, forceful strokes. His cock, still hard, is coated in slick. The deepening tinge of pink grows with every thrust. red-streaks on his shaft, pink cum foam gathering at the base of his dick. He relishes the sense of power he gets when he’s fucked hard enough to draw blood, and the sight makes him come again almost immediately. Another quick hammered drills that make the bottom tense up, surprised by the post-climax onslaught, and the sharp pangs of pain that follow. Another shot of poison. Another toxic bullet. Deeper. Harder. Deadlier. Seven months later, he Matthew finds himself slamming his cock into the same cumdump. Now he can see how the hole has changed—puffy, loose. The body beneath him is frail, spotted with signs of death. He’s so young, he thinks to himself…but before that thought could even take hold, his cock pulses, thickens and the grin that landed this young faggot7 months prior appears like a mask just slipped on. And Matthew aggressively pulls his cock all the way out and back in, then side to side, hard and slow, for an hour. He sees bruises on the body where he gripped too hard. He sees the bruising on his face from the punches he landed on the side of his face. The blonde hair that once lifted into the sky had been shaved off, leaving the fuck hole looking even more unhuman. He’s an evacuated, skeleton of his former bright self. And as me jackhammers toward his orgasm, not quite there, that’s when he feels it. The hole has finally stoppped gripping. He watches the faggot beneath him, waits for his chest to rise, and fall. Nothing. Then, a small rise and relief floods his chest, and he continues to pump. This time, hard. One last load. He keeps fucking till he climaxes just a few seconds later, the idea of such power, being able to fuck a man into his final breath pushes him over the edge. He withdraws and watches the cum dribble out. How natural, he thinks. And how this would have disgusted him a year ago. He lets his breath catch up, his body ready to collapse with exhaustion. He has afterall, been up now for two days straight. With reverence only men like Matthew can understand, he slowly drops down to his knees. He closes his eyes, leans forward, and like an animal deprived of water, begins to hungrily lap up what he can, his tongue digging deep, the familiar tasting warmth leaving that cool shiny film all over his face. When there’s no more to suck out and swallow, no more to lick up and relish, he gets to his feet. He leans over the boy, scans his face, taming him in. He wants to burn in the destruction that he caused this boy. He wants to think of him, lying here, passed out from too much G, wide open and available to whomever decides to walk past the slightly open door that he will soon leave ajar. Matthew imagines the next man to slip into the room to find him now in this condition with few rigs scattered about, and what they might do. He knows what he wants them to do and it is this very thought that sends the blood southward and out into his cock. The slow revival of his cock once again urges him forward—to move on and find another faggot to fuck the days away.

Damn, I know this is from a year and a half ago, but I’d still love to see more chapters. Thanks for bringing it forward.

Use me as you please, Although I am usually face down ass up so I don't usually see the top and their age, I don't discriminate against anybody with a hardon that walks up behind me. The only number that concerns me when it comes to age is 18 plus! Getting a hard on doesn't care about age.

Recently I've been collecting it in a shot glass and keeping it in the freezer. Waiting to get enough to make a devil's dick.

All BB? Dark or dancefloor?

Hot!

That's right, give in to becoming a poz pig