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Part 5- Ren’s hole was surrounded by a light smattering of black hair, with a tight brown pucker in the center. Slowly, I ran my finger across it, watching as it winked at me. Slowly, he pushed his asshole out and I watched as a glob of cum slowly drooled out. “Eat out my hole, slut,” he said, pulling his knees closer to his chest. I slowly I stuck my tongue out and took a cautious lick. The taste of anonymous cum and ass juices hit my taste buds. The bitterness of the cum mixed with the salty and sweet of his ass. The taste was all man. And I was hooked in that instant. I lapped hungrily at his hole, enjoying how cum slowly leaked out as I shoved my tongue deep inside, opening it up. Ren moaned, shoving his ass harder against it. “Good pig,” he said, relaxing his hole and forcing out another glob, “Suck those dirty loads out. Taste that poz cum on your tongue and know that’s going to be how your ass tastes tonight!” I shoved my tongue in as deep as I could and began to suck and lick the inside of the tight hole. Slowly, his ass started to let loose a steady drizzle of cum into my mouth, which I greedily ate. I continued to dart in and out, making Ren moan harder. Slowly my jaw began to ache, so I pulled away and spit on his hole and began to slid my finger into his slick hole. My cock began to throb as I watched his ass cling to first one finger, and then two. As his hole opened further, I slowly started to jerk myself, and then pressed a third finger to his hole. “Fuck, dude. That feels fucking good,” he said, grabbing his pipe and placing it in his mouth before handing me mine, “Relight that big fucking pipe and slide inside me.” Looking at the pipe in my hand, I bit my lip before looking back at him. “Are you sure?” “Light up, sexy, and dump your last neg load up my ass,” he said, deftly lighting his pipe back to full life before handing me his lighter, “We need to make room for all the new poz swimmers in those sexy young balls of yours.” I had never thought about topping, much less about becoming poz, but with his hole surrounding my fingers, so warm and soft, I needed to know what it would feel like on my cock. I took the lighter and mimicked Ren’s actions, slowly puffing the pipe to life. Watching as the tobacco glowed red deeper in the bowl, I took a deep inhale. Slowly I let out a massive cloud of fresh smoke. I felt the now familiar warmth spread from the pit of my stomach as I went to step up to his hole. That’s when I found a little flaw. His hole was definitely not going to be at the same level of my dick. Suddenly, I wicked thought entered my head. “Get on your knees, bitch,” I muttered. Ren gave me a sly smile around his pipe and got up, taking a deep puff on his pipe. Slowly he sat up and blew the smoke in my face. I answered in kind and puffed a large cloud back at him. “Yeah, boy,” he said, blowing out a large nose jet, “Suck that big pipe like you mean it. Take it nice and deep.” Scrambling around, Ren presented his perfectly toned ass to me, spreading one of the cheeks with his hand. He flexed his lubed up opening at me, causing it to wink. Unable to hold back, I climbed up on the bed behind him and began pressing my 6.5-inch dick against the spit and cum slathered hole. I increased the pressure a little, but feeling some resistance, I quickly went to pull back, afraid I was hurting him. Ren, however, had a different idea. Suddenly, I watched as he released his asscheek and grabbed my balls, at the same time pushing his slick hole down hard on my cock. I gasped and he moaned; a new wave of sensations spread across my body, radiating out from the warmth wrapped around my throbbing dick. I stayed still for a moment, relishing the feeling of my balls pressed tightly against his before finally, Ren spoke up. “Start movin’ bud,” he said, puffing away at his pipe, slowly making a small rocking, “I wanna feel those cum-shooters unloading in me while you ram that fucker in me. Mix your sweet neg cum in with the remains of all those random loads I already took. Feel how good all that bug juice is coating your cock?” At first, I wasn’t sure what to do, but with a little coaxing from Ren I slowly started picking up a rhythm. I began to time my puffs and inhales on the pipe with my strokes, loving how the room was building up with a haze as the clouds of my pipe smoke shot out of my nose and lips. Quickly enough, however, I felt my load start to build, my balls tightening as my ass clenched. “Oh…. shit…” I groaned around the pipe, “Not gonna last. Never knew topping would drive me to cum so fast!” “Fuck yeah, give it to me!” Ren said, giving me an appreciative smile, puffing away, “Shoot your hot load deep in there. Breed my hole like you know its meant to be.” My balls gave one powerful clench and I slammed my cock as deep as I could into Ren’s beautiful, muscular ass and unloaded rope after rope of thick cum. For a few minutes, I only stood there and panted. My cock was sensitive, and every squeeze of Ren’s ass muscles made me hiss in a mixture of pain and insurmountable pleasure. Finally, though, Ren pulled off my cock in a swift motion, rolling to the side. A few seconds later, he pulled me down with him and gave me a deep smokey kiss. “So, how was it?” Ren asked, rubbing my chest and nipples with his free hand, the other holding his pipe, “You enjoy dropping a nice load in there?” “That. Was…” I said, throwing my head back, “Amazing.” “Good. Loved feeling you shoot deep inside me buddy,” he said, slightly pinching my left nipple. I groaned as my cock slowly started to stir. “Fuck you’re really a horny one,” he said with a smile. Slowly, I ran my finger across the biohazard tatt on his pelvis. “Fuck that just looks so hot,” I said, tracing my finger along the edges as I slowly puffed on my pipe as well, “I want one so bad too. Think I’ll be poz after tonight?” “Well, like I said before, the night is still young. And Garrett and I are pretty fucking toxic. My viral load is sitting at a few hundred thousand, his probably a million or so,” he said, tracing his finger along the inked skin as well, “But don’t be upset if it doesn’t happen on the first time. Can even take hundreds of times before it takes.” “Shit!” exclaimed, thinking about his words, “Hundreds of loads in my ass? That sounds so hot!” “So fucking hot a sexy young fucker like you wants the bug,” he replied, playing with my quickly recovering cock, “Cute bug chaser like you is sure to get knocked up fast.” “Yeah,” I said, feeling his nice sized furry balls, “ Can’t wait until my balls are full of virus like you.” Grabbing my dick, I watched as he ran his thumb along the opening, making me hiss in pleasure. “Your dick would look amazing with a nice PA. Would love to be the one to pierce this nice piece of meat, and give you a nice poz tatt when you get the fucking flu.” My cock throbbed at the thought of seeing a huge PA in my dick head like Garrett’s, and a huge biohazard tatt on my stomach or pec. “You could do that?” I asked, smiling up at him. “Shit yeah, bud. I run a tattoo parlor here in town,” he said, flicking my nipples, “Would even be willing to give you some nice nipple piercings, in exchange for getting regular use of that sweet hole. Think of it as a gift for your poz birthday from me. Even give you a good discount if you let me ink you up proper.” “Shit yeah, that’d be hot to see the slut look like that!” Garrett’s voice said, interrupting us, “Hot to see you got him smoking like a proper pig. I’ll have to give him an extra gift for joining the brotherhood too.” I looked over and saw Garrett with a tall, hot looking red-headed bull of a guy, both of them puffing away on large black cigars. At any other time, I would have thought the guy was a straight football jock, what with his buzz-cut hair and facial scruff, muscled physique, and large powerful thighs, but the fact he was naked with what had to be a 10 inch long beer can size dick proudly sticking out of his groin told me otherwise. His large nut sack hung low, filled out with egg-sized balls. The large black scorpion across his massive chest told me Garrett had found me another hot poz load to take up my neg cunt. And boy did he deliver. “Took to it instantly,” Ren said, “ You’re gonna have to load this boy us with as many pipes and cigars as you can.” My cock throbbed at the idea of becoming a full-fledged smoker. “While you were gone I also got him to give me his first fuck. The slut really knows how to load up a hole for being a virgin.” Garrett looked at me seductively. “You load up that tight Asian hole for me after he knocked you up, boy?” Garrett said, walking up to Ren and feeling between his legs as he puffed away. “Yeah!” I replied, worried suddenly that I might have offended the sex god in front of me, or possible sounded too eager. “You enjoying smoking that sexy fucking pipe?” he continued. “God yes!” “Good boy. Now come over here and show our new friend’s cock some love while I give my sexy fucking Asian boy a recharge. We’re gonna have us a smoke-filled pozzing party for that cumdump of yours.”

7. Night of the Green Fairy It was early evening. Above the compound, the last light of day blushed scarlet between the treetop leaves. Deep male laughter and the clinking of dinner plates came from the main house. The cabana’s picture window shades were open, and from the courtyard tiki flames illuminated the room in flickering shadows. He sat up groggy on the edge of the bed trying to focus. For a second he panicked searching for his bag on the floor. It sat on the nightstand where he’d left it. The nightstand’s drawer was open. Although the room was dark, inside he saw the lube they used and poppers, but also a large assortment of dildos, some black, some flesh-color, white nylon rope, dog collars, cuffs and other stuff, things he had no idea what they were for. He closed the drawer and picked up his bag and shuffled to the bathroom mirror, flicking on the light to check his neck. It was fine, unbruised, still red though from Polanski the night before. He set the bag on the toilet. Manetti was good, going to extremes but knowing where to draw the line. His stomach growled as he stepped in the shower to wash off the crud of sex. He realized he hadn’t eaten anything since the Popeye’s chicken the night before. While he was drying off, a succulent fragrance wafted in the air. He looked in his bag and felt his clothes were still damp. Dang, why didn’t he remembered to hang them out? He was such a moron. He draped them on the shower rod. That left only the baggy red track suit to wear. He climbed into it, cinched his pants, but before going in search of food—and Manetti—he went out with his bag, crawled under the middle of the cabana and stuffed the green bag between two joists. He climbed back onto the pool deck, brushed dirt off his knees, and went to the main house. Tobias Glass stood at the head of a black lacquered dining table surrounded by his friends, Manetti among them. He was holding court in his favorite green silk kimono, pushing back the decorative katana sword holder on the side table to make room for the finished dinnerware. On a blue Flemish plate with windmills and Dutch girls dancing in clogs, lines of coke were being passed around. Tobias was a tall, thin man with wild, curly gray hair, whose eyes never rested, continually observing his guests, making sure everyone was enjoying themselves. He made his way around the table, making a comment, picking up a dish, running his long fingers through Chuck Brunswick’s wavy locks. Tobias was the first to notice Chris coming into the main house through the sliding door. Cheers erupted around the table as the boy slid the screen closed. “Sleeping beauty!” Manetti called out to him. “Everybody. This is the Chris Prior, Big Ben’s little brother, I was telling you about.” Knowing glances flashed around the table. “We finished, Chief, but I saved your plate.” He was embarrassed by sudden attention and a little uneasy about what Manetti had told the table. He smiled shyly at Tobias who had his hand parked on Chuck Brunswick’s shoulder. Brunswick wiggled his bushy eyebrows at Chris, one of his trademarked gestures that seemed to make its way into every episode. Chris’ heart skipped a beat. “Sit. Eat,” said Tobias, collecting the lasts of the dinnerware. The chair next to Manetti was empty. As soon as Chris was settled in Manetti served up several slices of pork tenderloin and asparagus with hollandaise sauce. Across from Chris sat Brunswick’s traveling companion, a very aristocratic, very pretty young boy only a year or two older than Chris. Tobias was making the rounds of introductions, saying he was sure Chris new Chuck Brunswick. Chris nodded assuredly, trying to stop himself from staring. “And his secretary, Andrew Hollister. Secretary? Seriously, that’s not what you’re calling him, dear,” he pleaded to Brunswick. “Personal assistant,” Brunswick said, smiling wryly. “Very personal,” said a short, muscular man at the end of the table. In his early thirties, balding, he sported a mustard-colored horseshoe mustache, and was passing his empty dinner plate up to Tobias. “Andy,” Andrew Hollister added to his introduction, not looking at Chris but tipping a rolled-up twenty dollar bill down to the plate of coke. For all his refined facial features, high cheekbones, dark hair that contrasted with his deep set blue eyes, he filled out his tank top, pecs and arms, with impressively cut muscles. On second glance, though, Chris couldn’t help notice his neck seemed a little thin compared to the rest of his bulk. “And at this end of the table, this little person barely able to get his wee arms up to the table,” Tobias continued, then said to the man in a mock aside, “I do wish you’d let me get you a booster seat, dear. You might recognize, if you can see him, Mister David Crusher, he of Crusher Gyms.” Tobias was ridiculing the short, but clearly not dwarfish man at the end. The man’s broad, generous smile oozed confidence, some might say conceit. Chris could tell he relished Tobias’ attention. He saluted Chris with a glass of water. Despite his stature Chris saw he was a serious body builder, hiding bulging arms and massive shoulders underneath his white hooded pullover. What hair he still had he buzzed short. It only accentuated his jovial face, topped off with a button nose, and a serious cleft in his chin. “He’s not going to recognize me, you daft old queen,” he said, clasping Tobias’ hand with mock pity. “But I know you forget thing so easily at your age. You really don’t remember Manetti telling us a few minutes ago this is the kid’s first time in New York?” Tobias smacked his hands away and took his empty dish to the side table. “Yo, Hip Hop,” Crusher teased Chris. His voice was surprisingly rich and deep, with a friendly jockishness that suggested he schmoozed easily with his clients and wealthy investors alike. “You know Manetti’s a low life. A clean cut kid like you shouldn’t be hanging around with the likes of him. You’ll get fleas.” “I’m hardy old,” Tobias injected, dabbing a napkin to his lips, then taking the dishes into the kitchen. “Listen, Fireplug,” Manetti responded to Crusher, “Stop trying to steal my date. The kid’s doing just fine. Trust me.” Chris gave Manetti a startled look to see if he was being as protective as he sounded. He also couldn’t believe Manetti called him his date. “Some wine, Chris?” offered the man sitting on the other side of him. He held up a bottle of Chablis. “Thank you. Just water, please,” he answered. The man poured him a glass. His black rimmed glasses had thick lenses that magnified his hazel eyes. He was fiftyish, had a long horse face that was kindly, almost handsome, and he, too, appeared to be built under his Columbia University sweat shirt. Pairing everyone off, Chris assumed he was with Crusher. “I’m so sorry,” cried Tobias hurrying in from the kitchen, and sitting at the head of the table. “Forgive me Chris. Last and definitely least is Mother, Mitchel Goodman,” Tobias said, waving a long green sleeve at the man next to Chris, “my wife of twenty-two long, excruciating years.” “Tobias, if you keep this up, we’ll have to seal you back in your coffin before any of the party guest arrive.” “Promises, promises. Now Michael, my pet,” he said, placing a hand over Manetti’s. “I know you said you and Chris want to keep a low profile, and you may if you must. But you do know you arrived on Towel Night.” Between gobbling down forkfuls of pork and asparagus, Chris asked what Towel Night was. He’d finished his plate and Manetti was piling on a few more tenderloin slices. Everyone glanced around the table suppressing grins. Crusher sniffed loudly and passed the tray of coke to Mitchel. Mitchel tapped Chris’ shoulder and offered more asparagus. Chris nodded enthusiastically. As he was serving, Mitchel explained, “Tobias and I host a bacchanal for selected guests, no more than twelve or fourteen mind you, men that throughout the summer have caught his and my eye.” He set down the asparagus and quickly bent down and snorted two lines, then perked back up and continued a little more brightly. “The Towel Party is a Fire Island institution! It’s not suitable for wallflowers or twinks, but since you’re our house guest you’ll be treated like a dignitary.” Tobias broke in, “Or at least a novelty.” The men all laughed except Manetti, who eyed Chris. Tobias went on to explain further, “A white towel and eye mask along with an invitation were left on each of the invitees’ doorsteps late last night.” He added to the table as an aside, “This year, gentlemen, you won’t believe the variety. A potpourri of perversity!” To Chris he said, “The invitation is for ten o’clock, and the celebrant is expected to wear the towel, mask and nothing more.” “One question, Mr. Glass,” interrupted Andy, finishing his Chablis. “Aren’t most houses home to several men, for the most part? How do they know whom the invitation is for?” “That’s the fun part. Self-selection,” Tobias answered. “It’s a house’s decision who they designate. And they almost always select the most philistine participant, making for the most delicious, unpredictable party. Even if it turns out to not be the one Mother and I had an eye on, the collective house knows best, don’t they dear?” Mitchel agreed wholeheartedly. “The result is always better than we could have anticipated or hoped for—and always in surprising ways.” “Chris?” Mitchel said, passing the coke tray to him. “No thank you, sir,” he said, passing the tray to Manetti, finishing his last bites of food. Manetti said, “What. You’re suddenly a prude about drugs?” “I’m still eating,” Chris complained. “And I don’t want to.” “Oh, Mother,” crooned Tobias. “An old married couple already, just like us.” “Do it,” was all Manetti had to say. Chris growled and snatched back the tray glaring at Manetti. After coming back up and wiping his nose, Chris said, “Mr. Glass. What is a bacchanal?” “Oh, dear,” said Tobias. *** The small dinner party had moved outside. Down in an unlit fire pit, Brunswick sliced the air with the sheathed katana blade, showing Chris and Crusher some swordfight moves from a recent episode. Chris watched enthralled. Crusher was duly impressed. Andy not so much. Manetti had maneuvered Tobias to get him alone by the pool, and was quizzing him about boats for sale. “Drax authorized me to purchase a yacht for him, that’s what brought us here.” “I can’t quite picture Drax on the open sea,” said Tobias, lighting another cigarette as he put out his first. Mitchel walked by, frowning at Tobias as he passed, holding coffee mugs for Brunswick and Crusher. “Don’t give me that look, Mother. It’s only my second.” “He has some idea about a new video,” Manetti went on. “Something like Chris the cabin boy, or something like that.” “Mmm. Sailors, pirates, swarthy men who haven’t bathed in months, capture an innocent boy and teach him the ways of the sea. Ah, the timeless story.” Tobias raised his hand as if reading a marque. “Shanghaied and Seduced. I’d buy that. Hell, I'd produce it if Drax would let me on the set.” He took a long drag off his cigarette. “Well, as a matter of fact, we have some acquaintances that own a mortuary in Montclair. Very macabre characters, with unseemly tastes. If half the rumors are true I certainly wouldn’t leave Chris alone in their company. They’re calling it quits after twenty years. Such a pity. Boris caught Roger milking the milkman.” From the fire pit Mitchel corrected, “He was a beer distributor.” “Shush. A milkman makes for a much better story. Anyway, they’ll be docking here in the morning. They always take the week before the Fourth off. If you’re serious I can have them for brunch, but only if you’re serious. They are undertakers, after all. Not really the life of the party.” He exploded with laughter. Manetti snorted. “I have a feeling that aside from all the mishegas of selling the business, the house, oy, I can’t image, they’ll most likely want to get rid of their yacht.” Mitchel came up behind Tobias and rested his hands on his shoulders. “Who will get Wallace, do you suppose?” “Oh, dear. I hadn’t thought about their Great Dane. Poor Wallace. I suppose they’ll have to split him in half.” The two men chuckled. Manetti pressed, “How much do you think a boat like theirs would run.” Mitchel squeeze in next to Tobias on his lounge chair, “They bought it ten years ago, didn’t they?” Tobias nodded. “That yacht at today’s prices? Maybe one hundred fifty, sixty. I wouldn’t go any higher. Have you seen how worn and cracked the outdoor seating is?” Mitchel said sliding his hand over Tobias kimono sleeve. “Almost as cracked and worn out as they are.” Mitchel croaked, while Tobias gave him a playful slap on the wrist. Chris had overheard part of the conversation about yachts and, since Brunswick had finished his demonstration and was putting the sword away, he drifted over with his hand behind his back. He was feeling mischievous from the coke and also a bit daring from all the male attention he was getting. He dropped his clothes next to Manetti and then did a cannon ball next to him. The spray soaked Manetti's entire back, water dripped over his forehead. “That’s it, you little prick,” he said, stripping off his jeans and vest. He dove naked into the water chasing Chris who was squealing with delight. The dinner party gathered round the pool laughing as Manetti caught up with Chris, picked him up by the neck and legs, rose the naked boy kicking high in the air, and threw him into the deep end of the pool. Crusher stripped off his top and shorts revealing a large, semi-erect woody. He dove in and swam up next to the submerged Chris. Chris popped up wiping his eyes. He said to the boy, “I told you he was low rent scum, didn’t I?” He ran his hand up Chris’ torso. “You come stay with Uncle Crusher when you get back in the city. I’ve got a guest room and I’d like to see what I can do with this body,” he said, as underwater he groped the boy’s hairless crotch. Manetti quickly swam up and got between Crusher and boy. “Afraid he’s got other plans, Uncle Crusher.” Manetti wrapped an arm around Chris’ torso and swam away with his charge. “What, you got a monopoly on the whole family, Manetti?” Crusher bellowed. “Gentlemen, niceness. I’m sure there’s enough Chris for everyone, isn’t there Michael?” Tobias ventured. “Not for free, there isn’t,” Manetti said, urging Chris out of the pool. “What a crab, Manetti,” Chris said, grabbing a white towel and going back over to the fire pit. Manetti followed him, wiping himself off and settling into one of the chairs next to Chris. Brunswick came over and sat opposite Chris. He pulled off his shirt flexing his chest, clearly for Chris’ benefit. The boy toweled his hair, astonished seeing in real life what he’d fantasized about so often in his bedroom back home. “Yeah, Manetti, what a crab,” Crusher said, joining them with his own towel tucked around his waist. Manetti finished drying, popped his butt up and wrapped the towel around himself. Instead of following the others, Chris flung his towel around his shoulders and sat provocatively with his legs spread wide for Brunswick benefit. Tobias and Mitchel had gone in the house and were bringing back several glasses filled with a fluorescent green liquid. Tobias took a look at Chris who was starting to get an erection. “Oh dear,” he said, handing the boy a glass. “And before any of the guests arrive.” “What is this, Mr. Glass,” Chris asked, as Tobias and Mitchel finished handing out the spirits. “It’s called le fée verte, a Towel Party tradition,” Tobias replied. “The green fairy,” Andy translated for Brunswick trying to distract him from Chris’ noticeable and none too shabby hairless boner. “Absinthe?” guessed Brunswick. “Certainement,” responded Mitchel. “We always have a shot before the festivities begin.” Crusher sniffed his glass. “They say, absinthe makes the heart grow fonder.” He looked up at Chris. The boy didn't really get the joke but liked Crusher and snickered anyway. Andy held his glass to the light of a tiki torch. “But it’s illegal, isn’t it?” Brunswick clucked his tongue turning to Andy. “And how many lines of coke have you done tonight, young man?” He ran his hand up Andy’s smooth leg, into his shorts and gave a squeeze. Andy beamed an embarrassed but radiant smile, a smile that showed just how smitten he was with the actor. “It's illegal? I’m in,” Chris said. He downed his glass all the while looking at Manetti. “Oh, yuck. Man! Nasty.” “Dear, boy,” Tobias rushed over to Chris. “It’s meant to be sipped.” He ruffled his blond mop. “Ew, I could just eat you up! Now, if you’re good," he said conspiratorially, "I’ll show you a little trick, but you’ll have to come to the table to see it. And you have to wrap your towel. You’re distracting everyone. Look. Poor Mister Crusher can’t keep from poking through his towel.” Several of the men took small sips. Manetti downed his absinthe in one defiant gulp, and followed Chris and Tobias to the patio table. Crusher followed and, true to what Tobias said, was having a time of it trying to keep his towel tied around himself with his very impressive hardon tenting out. When Manetti and Chris sat down on either side of Tobias, he refilled their drinks. Brunswick and Andy grew curious and gathered round the table. Over the two refilled glasses Tobias produced two slotted spoons and set them atop the rims. From the table’s sugar bowl Tobias picked out two sugar cubes, dipped them in his own absinthe and set them on the spoons. Mitchel dimmed the porch lights, then brought over a book of matches and lit the cubes. They all watched as a ghostly green flames wavered above the glasses. Tobias informed the group, “This is the old bohemian method of drinking absinthe.” He twisted the spoons and let the flaming cubes fall into the glass. The entire contents lit up, casting a bright green light over the men's faces. Chris was fascinated with the green fire. Manetti tried to look indifferent but felt slightly hypnotized by the light. Tobias extended his kimono-draped hand over the flame. “Et voila! The flaming green fairy.” “Appropriate,” quipped Crusher. That got even Manetti laughing. “Baudelaire loved it this way,” Mitchel said. Andy added, “I read so did Oscar Wilde.” “It brings out all sorts of dark impulses—‘harbinger of our darkest angels,’ wrote Poe.” Tobias stated. “You’ll soon see why Van Gogh painted in the manner he did. Now no cutting off Chris’ ear,” he wagged a finger at Manetti, who had no idea what the man was talking about. Chris held up the clouded green liquid and blew his out his flame. He waited till it was cool enough to drink and tasted a sip. “It’s like licorice,” he said. The rest of the men wanted to try their absinthe this way. Manetti shot back his again in a single gulp. As Tobias poured out another round, Mitchel warned everyone that cooking the absinthe made it a lot stronger and brought out the legendary hallucinatory qualities. “Yes, Mother,” Tobias sighed, igniting everyone’s drink. “Mr. Brunswick?” Chris said, feeling his chest. The combination of the coke and the initial effects of the absinthe had brought him round to seek advice from his hero. “Call me Chuck, Chris,” he said, blowing out the flame in his glass and taking a sip. “Mr. Chuck? I mean Chuck,” Chris snickered. He started tweaking his nipples without realizing it. Manetti pushed his hand down. “Um, what was I going to say? Oh yeah.” He took another sip before Manetti took his glass away. “You remember that episode where these crooks confronted a crooked cop, killed him and stole all his money?” “That set up, Chris,” he responded, rubbing a hand through his fleecy chest. He too was starting to feel the green fairy. “That seemed to happen in a lot of episodes.” “Yeah,” Chris said, looking at his idol’s chest, the pecs so round, his shoulders so hard. “Um, if there was a third guy that didn’t know any better, but the crooks got him to fetch them the illegal money, ‘cause the money was from drugs that the dirty cop had been skimming from, and this third innocent guy kills the two crooks, and steels their money, would Stacks Lightning still to track him down?” Manetti caught a quick exchange between Mitchel and Tobias. “He’d say the money should be turned over to the police, I would guess.” “But if he didn’t? If say, he bought…?” Chris looked at the mustache and wondered what it would feel like if Chuck was sucking his cock with the mustache brushing his skin, "bought a yacht..." or if they got into sixty-nining and the mustache was tickling his balls. “Dirty money has a habit of getting people dirty, son.” “That’s what I say, too. Makes you dirty,” Chris looked over at Manetti. “Real dirty.” There was a knock at the compound’s archway. The door opened, and an extremely buff Latino man with long caramel hair strolled in accompanied by a regal Black man with long flowing dreadlocks and a burly brown-bearded bear of a man. They all wore towels, their white masks and varying degrees of smiles. Tobias got up to greet his first guests putting on his own mask, while Manetti picked Chris up under his arm, saying he wanted to talk to him. He dragged the protesting Chris to their cabana, tossed him on the crusty bedsheets, and locked the door. “That’s it for you tonight. You’re grounded.” “No,” whined Chris, finding it difficult to get off the bed. “I want to play with those guys. I want to play with Chuck.” “You got too big of a mouth.” Chris was about to holler, but Manetti covered his mouth and pinned him to the bed. He raised a finger to warn Chris to behave, but Chris was struggled drunkenly and noisily. Manetti, too, was starting to feel the effects of the absinthe and knew he had to act quickly. He opened the nightstand’s drawer. He rifled through the paraphernalia. Out came a muzzle that went over Chris face. He cinched it tight. Chris tried to speak but his voice was severely muted. Manetti then took out some rope, tied the boy’s hands together and looped it into a discreet eye hook behind the headboard. Chris rolled around trying to get up but Manetti used his weight to secure the boy, first tying one leg, then the other, till the boy was spread eagle on the bed. He battled against the ropes, but the brat wasn’t going anywhere. Once he was assured Chris couldn’t escape, he observed his helplessness. Maybe it was the green fairy but he was starting to get arouse. His cock stirred beneath the folds of the towel. He looked the boy over, his eyes squinting with brooding thoughts. He sided up next to him and started stroking the defenseless boy’s cock, wanting him excited as he was. “So I’m a crab, am I?” Chris stopped contesting, and lay still. There was a new tone in Manetti’s voice, not quite playful anymore, a note of corrupt intent. “You know you've been trouble all night. You've been disobedient.” The tone his father took when he was about to get a beating. Manetti starting scanning the room. “Do you think I haven't noticed the gym bag’s not here. Where is it? What did you do with it?” he asked menacingly, not playing around. Not playing with his dick, just gripping it hard. Genuine fear lit up in Chris’ eyes. Manetti reached into the bondage drawer and brought out a thick studded dog collar. “I think it’s time we play a new game. A game where you learn your place, the same way Drax schooled me.” He locked the collar around Chris’ neck. He shuffled through the drawer’s contents, found something that brought up an evil smile. He pulled out a roll of copper wire and an electro stimulation kit. "I can stretch this game out for a very long time and it never leaves a trace. Or you can tell me where it is. The bag." Hearing no response, slowly he wrapped each one of Chris’ testicles tightly so they each stood out away from his body. He then attached alligator clips to the end of each wire and connected it to the kit. “Where it is?” He lubed his fingers and rubbed the tip of Chris erect shaft. With his other hand he turned on the machine. Chris instantly felt as if rubber bands were snapping his balls. The ceaseless electric shocks made his body dance on the bed. Manetti turned the dial down, and repeated the question. Chris refused to answer as much from his inborn stubbornness as resistance to Manetti coercion. Manetti turn the dial up again. He continued to rub the kid’s nob, beginning to confuse Chris’ sense between pleasure and pain. “The money, kid. Where. Is. It?” He turned the dial higher and stroked his fist tighter around Chris’ erection. Chris pleaded under his muzzle for Manetti to stop. Feeling the power he had over this boy, Manetti started playing with himself. He asked Chris, “It almost feels good, doesn’t it?” He jacked them both. “Almost.” He upped the voltage again and Chris shuddered, real tears forming in his eyes. “Under the house,” he confessed through his muzzle, praying Manetti would stop. “Which house? This house?” Chris nodded. “Too many people outside.” Manetti looked wild contemplating his next move. He stared at Chris like a stranger, his dark brows scowling. His looked changed from anger to hurt. “Why’d you hide it from me?" He dialed the kit back up not for fun but to make him feel pain like he felt. "I could have just swiped it you know.” The voltage going through his balls brought out a screamed but party music played and a large chorus of men milling around muffled his cry. Chris yelled for help. That made Manetti’s mask switch back to anger. He dial the machine up even higher. Chris repeatedly begged for him to stop, but his pleas were easily drowned out by the din and disco music. Manetti closed his eyes. He’d never saw this side of Manetti. Didn’t want to. “Stop!” came out as a muffled plea. Manetti turned off the kit. On re-opening his eyes were clouded, it looked like he didn’t recognize Chris, only that he had a tied up naked body before him. From the drawer he withdrew a leather hood that covered Chris' head down to his cheeks leaving only two hole for his eyes to peer through. He laid a case on the bed and unzipped it. The case revealed twelve shiny metal instruments, long rods whose widths ran from thin to very thick, secured onto a bed of red velvet. Manetti removed one of the thinner ones. He was still stroking the thin body of the boy, but stopped momentarily to grease the rod. “You need to mind completely. Do whatever ever I say when I say it.” He pushed Chris’ pole straight up. With his pinky finger, he pushed lubricant into the boy’s piss slit, then held the instrument against the opening. He let it slide in about an inch, sending shockwaves over Chris as he realized what was about to happen. Manetti took a firm grip of his cock and stroking it, encouraged the weight of the rod to penetrate the boy’s urethra. It slowly made its way down. At first Chris bucked against the invasion, but that made the rod fall even faster so he stopped, tried to accept it, and felt it ooze steadily and unrelentingly downward. He flung his head back and forth at the odd and unnatural sensation. Never thought anything could enter him so intimately, so overwhelming his sense of what could and what couldn’t be done to his body. With every inch he wanted to it out of him, but with every inch it seduced him by its callous indifference. There was a slight S-shape bend in it, and about four inches in, it fell quickly in line with the contours of his channel, slid swiftly in all the way. Manetti then once again started stroking him. The thrill of steel violating his body like this, having Manetti control all his senses, was enough to bring him to an orgasm in spite of the perversity or perhaps because of it. Manetti read how the faceless body bucked in his hand. He released the cock and let it bob on its own, as the kid twitched but didn’t cum. He pulled the tip of the rod almost all the way out then let it slide back in again on its own accord. After minutes of these internal dick fucks, Chris grew to desire this new feeling of his penis being tortured, loved that Manetti was his torturer. When Manetti allowed him to jerk his cock into his hand, Chris realized this man could do anything to him he wanted. “Are you a good boy?” Manetti pulled out one of the thicker instruments and held it up to Chris to contemplate. Chris shook his head both with fear and excitement. “No, you won’t be good?” Chris nodded that he would. “Oh, you’re saying you want this?” Chris shook his head no. “Doesn’t really matter what you want, boy.” The man pulled the tip of the sound out, lubed the new thicker rod, pushed more lube in his slit and held the sound against Chris’ thin opening. “I’ll eventually fuck your cock with my pinkie. Think you’ll like that?” Manetti pushed the thicker sound into his piss slit. Chris cried No! under his muzzle, but the heavy rod dropped steadily and painfully down his shaft, stretching it wider than his urethra was meant to stretch. The boy rasped inside his muzzle, his body shaking at the odd and torturous discomfort. Manetti had started stroking him again, again confusing his receptors, unable to determine whether he wanted this feeling or wanted it to stop. Manetti wouldn’t stop either way so he laid there while the rod inched his way down, aided by Manetti’s pumping fist. The rod halted about three inches into his shaft. Manetti eased his grip and with his fingers started rubbing the spot in his shaft just below where the sound had stopped. The finger stimulated Chris’ urethra, involuntary inviting the painful invader to continue its journey. It fell in deeper. Manetti kept at him, lightly scratching further down his shaft, provoking the painful acceptance of the monstrously thick instrument. Tiring of how long it was taking, Manetti pushed the remaining inch of the sound into Chris, who let out a muffled holler of pain. He then took sadistic delight in pulling the large rod out and back in, spending an extraordinary amount of time watching the boy’s body go from excruciating agony to mild excitement and, eventually, complete rapture. The boy gradually began fucking the air, gyrating his hips. “Good little pain pig. That’s it, be daddy’s pain addict. You like this, don’t you, fucker.” Chris' brain was too addled to respond. All he knew to do was fuck the air harder to keep the instrument poking his prostate. He’d convulse uncontrollably, then return to fucking the fucker inside his shaft. He was ready to blow but Manetti felt darker impulses emerge. He pulled off the boy's mask and intimately appraised Chris face. How easy it was, Manetti thought, to pervert the boy. How the kid’s instincts, being Ben’s brother, were on the slutty side anyway. He decided he wanted to be the one to push him over the edge, make him a dirtier pig than even he was. He left the sound where it was and searched the drawer withdrawing several plastic tubes, a metal ball clam and hex key, and a hand pump, and placed all of it on the bed. “You think you’re some fucking clean cut kid. But I know there’s a dirty street whore in you, a homeless pussy boy who'd do anything for a meal, anything for his next fix.” He licked the kid’s nipple and placed one of the smaller tubes over it and pumped it till it sucked in a good inch of the kid’s tit. He did the same for the other one. It didn’t hurt but Chris saw how plump his nipples were in the vacuum. Soon he’d have utters like Manetti and Master Drax. Manetti unwrapped the copper wire and pulled Chris’ balls painfully down, locking the thick ball weight around his stretched testicles. With the hex key, he locked it in place. “Who owns you now, boy?” “You do, Sir,” Chris called out from under the muzzle, hoping Manetti would let him go. “Hardly mine yet, boy,” Manetti replied. “Soon though. Sometime tonight you're going to prove to me you're a whore. Only then will you'll be mine.” He picked out a very large butt plug with a metal strip running down it. He generously applied lube and twisted it into Chris ass, who grunted as it was going in. As it stretched his ass open to the object’s full width, Chris’ protesting cries came to a crescendo. His ass lips slipped over its wide smooth edge and, as it quickly narrowed, his sphincter pulled it into himself. Chris breathed heavily trying to adjust to the huge object now inside his rectum. Its base kept his anus opened with a constant three inch stretch. Manetti took the wire that came out of the butt plug’s base and connected it into the electro kit. He then took an alligator clip and attached it to the tip of the thick sound going into the boy's shaft. He adjusted some setting and flicked it on. “This cycles up for a very long time before it comes back down. You’re going to love it. Or maybe not. I didn’t at first, but Drax used it to finally persuade me to not only use my hole, but to be it.” Chris felt the first tiny spark slowly run down his penis, then snap sharply through his prostate and land on the metal edge of the butt plug traveling from inner tip slowly ascending out to his sphincter. Once the journey ended, it began again. Tip, to root, snap through his prostate, and run out his hole. It didn't really hurt, more or less tickled. “Do you know the story of the frog who was put in a bowl of warm water and was slowly boiled to death?” Manetti asked the muzzled Chris. “That’s the setting on the machine. It's called the boiled frog. The voltage increases so slowly you won’t realize when it eradicates what's up here,” he said, tapping Chris’ temple. “After, all you’ll see yourself as, is as a hole.” The spark was manageable. Not painful. Its regularity was almost soothing. Almost. Manetti got up and after washing up in the bathroom came back in and searched his jeans, pulling out a small baggy of white powder. “Holy Christ, do you even know how hot you look right now, baby? I don’t know why," he said with glossy eyes, "but I'm lovin' the idea of whoring you out all night. I want you to take so many loads you’re going to be shitting cum into next week.” He returned to the bathroom and soon came back with two orange-capped rigs. Tapping the vial to the light, Manetti said, his voice dispassionate and clinical, “This’ll get you through the next hour. You want to flirt with Crusher and Brunswick? I’ll let you play with them all you want. I want everyone to play with you, but first they gotta pay. Don’t move your arm.” Manetti felt for a protruding vein, stuck him, saw the flash of red, and slammed him good. Chris coughed beneath the muzzle. Manetti ran a hand across his hot flesh, his skinny ribs, the smooth concave belly. He lightly stroked the boy’s flicking dick. The kid responded with the expected quiver everywhere he touched. He removed the muzzle. “You want dick, don’t you, boy?” Chris licked his lips as if starving. “Yeah, Sir,” he said in a steady and determined voice, eyes like large black pearls. “Lots of dick. And fist, Sir. Lots of fists.” Chris bobbed his head eagerly, mouthed a silent thank you. Every now and then his hips twitched as the voltage leapt through his prostate. “Don’t thank me yet,” Manetti responded, uncapping his rig. He stuck himself, rode the rush, and steadied himself with a hand on the door. He turned off the lights, opened the drapes, and left Chris to spin, while he went out to fuck someone or get fucked, he didn’t give a fuck which, and then come back to fetch Chris for his first trick of many. The door clicked shut. In the dark, Chris laid spread eagle on the bed, rushing wildly, shuddering lightly. Pain sat with him so he wasn’t alone. It was becoming familiar, pain was, not a friend exactly—maybe more of an escort. He glanced through the window, each round of electricity growing a little more pronounced, drilling a bit deeper into his permanent hard wiring. He looked up. Outside, in the wavering light of the pool, a sea of a thousand naked men swam toward him. ***

Nice time earlier at ABS. I went into back room, the smell of poppers strong, and saw two guys fucking. Both looked to be in their 20's, skinny, but with some scruff on their faces so not complete twinks. I walked over to the one standing up fucking the other, who was bent over on a bench on his knees. He looked at me and smiled, so I came closer to check out the action. He was fucking the bottom's hairy ass with a modest 5" cock, wearing a rubber. I started rubbing the bottom's ass cheeks, and telling the top what a good job he was doing. I noticed bottom guy took another hit of poppers, so I reached down and felt the tops cock moving in and out. When he had backed up, I grabbed his hardon and looked at him and slid the condom off and threw it on the floor. Then I lined his cock back up to the hole and he resumed his fucking, this time raw. I leaned in to his ear and quietly told him to enjoy and empty his balls in that ass. His pace increased, and I kept coaching him on, telling him to nut in his whore. He must of liked that cuz he instantly started cumming, and I put my hand on his ass to make sure he stayed deep. The bottom was being quiet like a good boy all poppered up. Once he was done nutting, he tucked his cock away and made for the exit. I quickly took his place behind the bottom, and slowly pushed my cock into the cummy hole. Damn he was tight still, as my cock was a bit bigger than the last one. The bottom wriggled a bit, but I grabbed his hips and told him to just relax and hit his poppers. He did just that, and I told him how good it felt to fucked his cum hole, and what a big load the last guy gave him. I slow fucked him for about 10 minutes before nutting in him. I pulled out and wiped my cock on his ballsack and ass cheeks, and put my index finger in his hole just to feel my cum in there. I patted him on the ass and told him thanks, and left with him still ass up.

I just left the ABS with only one load in my snatch which I received through the GH. The Dude entered the neighboring cubicle, and looked through the GH to find me naked and waiting. His cock immediately got hard, but before he stuck his thick uncut meat through the GH he suited up. I was in a quandary as my hole needed cock, but if he wore a condom my guts wouldn't get coated with his cum. So, like a proper cumdump, I started sucking him, condom and all. However, I somehow managed to 'accidentally' bite the tip off the condom. I then backed-up onto his cock, properly pleasuring the stranger, riding him hard through the GH. His cock started expanding so I held still, allowing him take over to finish inside my ass. I heard him moan and groan as his cock swelled and spurted. He pulled out and, through the GH, I watched him pull off a relatively empty spunk bag off of his cock. Feeling my hole, I found it full of tasty stranger goo! After he left, I went and double checked. Yep. The top was missing from the condom my involuntary breeder had used. He never knew.

Agreement to everything Fistcumslut said. I'm inspired by everyone's posts. You're all invited to Tobias Glass' next Towel Party!

FT. LAUDERDALE - Since it's Valentines Day I guess I'll let you guys know I've been "dating" someone. He's a sexy 20-something, darker skin than mine, and part-time model and porn actor. He's that guy with the big cock that is a bottom and we all say "What a waste of a dick!". But I am just as infatuated with his ass as I am the big dick. Over the past month I've bred him 4 or 5 times. Last night was hot -- my grandpa (he's 91) lives with me during the winter. I had the boy spend the night. We went to bed one room over from grandpa's room and we tried to be as quiet as possible because the walls are then - but I'm got my thick cock up his hole and fucked him for about 30 minutes before we collapsed on the bed and fell asleep. Today, when I took him back to his house, we fucked in his room with the windows open while one of his roommates sat outside by the pool. I'm kinda turned on by the fact the sex is amazing and we don't care who may hear or see us fucking. It's so hot! We will be making a video soon and when we do, I'll let you guys know.

Here's part 2, guys. Hope you like it. My body was tingling all over from the drugs and I was so turned on by the four guys who were all there to breed my ass. My Dad had arranged it and now here I was feeling like I just wanted their cum loads, I needed them. Deep inside me. I didn’t care about anything else, except their hard cocks shoved inside me.

 Eric was the first to make a move. “Get up on the bed, faggot,” he said. I jumped up and got on the huge bed with my ass in the air. Eric shoved his hairy face up against my boy twat and started to eat my ass.

 I moaned in pleasure. Dean walked over and started to kiss me and then gave me another shotgun of T, like I needed to get any higher. He pulled away and said “we’re gonna get you fucked up, faggot, then rape you.” I just moaned. This guy knew exactly what I wanted.

Jose and Chris were making out with each other and passing shotguns back and forth.

Eric came up for air and I turned around to look at him. His beard was covered in cum that he had sucked out of my cumdump. Dean looked up and said “FUCK that’s hot.” He leaned over my back (not hard to do since I”m 5’5” tall) and licked the loads from my dad and the two Mall DILFs out of Eric’s beard. Then he leaned down to share them with me. He shoved his tongue in my mouth and I could taste the salty jizz that I love so much. We passed the loads back and forth until they were gone and then I felt Eric stand up.

Dean got up and Jose moved over on the bed to shove his fat, uncut 8” dick into my mouth. Eric pushed my head down onto Jose’s dick, and then my back down so my ass was higher in the air. 

 Then in one fell swoop, he plunged his cock (which was even bigger than Jose’s, maybe 9.5” also uncut) into my sloppy pussy.

I pulled up off Jose’s cock so I could moan loudly. 

“FUCK MEEEEEEEEEE. PLEASE BREED ME!”

All three of them laughed. Chris said “Fuck guys, I never though this guy would be both hot and such a dirty little faggot. Only 18 too. Must’ve had some early training.” He knew full well by whom.

I looked up at him and grinned, and then went back to sucking Jose’s fat cock without saying a word. Gotta have a secret or two and, besides, cocksuckers need to be dedicated to getting hard cocks ready to breed greedy cunts.

Eric had plunged his cock all the way inside my dumpster. He was almost as big as my Dad. 

“Guys, this kid……hey faggot, what’s your name kid? Besides whore, cocksucker and cumdump?"

I pulled my mouth off Jose’s cock long enough to say “Justin.”

Eric laughed and continued “well Justin here has a well used hole. My cock is pretty long and fat and it just slid right in with no resistance. Pretty sure he’s never said no to a cock in his whole life.”

“Nope,” I said, briefly pulling my mouth off Jose’s short, fat cock. It was so fat I could barely get my lips around it. I couldn’t wait to get it up my boy cunt. I hope they had all seen my profile that said “all loads up my fagdump. No load refused.” Behind me, Eric started to slide slowly in and out of my ass, making me moan with pleasure whenever his huge cock pulled all the way out and then plunged back inside me. Every time he pushed all the way inside me, my face was pushed all the way down Jose’s cock, and into my throat. Daddy always told me I was a great deep throater. Jose’s loud moans and muttering “filthy cocksucker,” seemed to agree.

I looked over and Dean had turned Chris around so we were side by side on the bed with our boy twats in the air. Chris was tall, and had a thin, muscular body with lots of body hair. His ass was big and round and begged to be bred.

“Come on Dean, give me another load. My hole is begging for it.”

Dean laughed and said “your hole is always begging for a load, dude.” 

Dean stood up and walked around behind Chris, and I could hear him slide his cock up Chris’ hole. As soon as he bottomed out, he pulled back and I could hear a squishing sound. Chris was clearly loaded up, too.

“Fuck man, I love your cock inside me,” Chris said. Those four guys who were here earlier really bred me good. Dean laughed and shoved his cock back in Chris’ hole which elicited more loud moaning.

“They sure did. Your cunt is really loose and sloppy. Just like I like it.”

Chris moaned and said “yeah, when one of them was pissing on me, he said they’d been partying for a while, but none of them had cum yet. I’m glad all four of them shot loads in my cunt. Two of them twice! Six loads enough to lube up your cock baby?”

 I looked over at Chris, who’s eyes were closed and his face contorted with the same feeling I had. I was serving my purpose. I was getting high and taking a strange man’s cock up my ass, and it felt great.

Chris opened his eyes and looked over at me, then he scooted over so we could make out while we were getting fucked.

He shoved his tongue in my mouth and we kissed passionately and he whispered “you have to let Dean fuck you. His cock is amazing.” 

“Eric’s feels fucking awesome,” I said, and Chris told me that Eric was his husband and they’d been breeding each other’s holes for 4 years. “Lucky you, you get that fat stick to breed you all the time!” He just smiled and laughed and then moaned as Dean bottomed out in his hole again.

 We both lay there moaning while getting our cunts pounded by two long, thick uncut cocks. I was in heaven since I also had Jose’s fat cock buried all the way inside my faggot throat. Just where Daddy wanted me to be. I wished he could be watching me get used like a whore.

Eric and Dean were making out while they were fucking us whores, and decided to switch. Chris and I both turned over and held our legs in the air while the boys spat on their cocks and slid them into the new cunt.

Chris was right, Dean’s cock was slightly fatter than Eric’s and was really splitting me open, assisted by my swirling brain which was incredibly high. Jose decided we were not high enough and pulled out the pipe and gave me a shotgun which I shared with Chris. We laid there with the two tops switching off (with Jose occasionally taking a dip in one cumdump or the other)for a while. We were both in cumdump heaven with our holes wide open, being raped full of big fat cocks. Dean, in particular, loved calling us both “whore,” “fag,” “rapehole,” and other nasty words. I loved it. It just made my cunt feel more appreciated. My normally fat, 8” uncut dick had turned into a cocklet, completely shriveled up and I couldn’t care less. My purpose was serving cocks with my hole. I was letting complete strangers shove their cocks up my ass and just for good measure, I had one shoved all the way down my throat.

We stayed like that for a while, with Dean and Eric trading off between Chris’ cunt and mine. Jose seemed to prefer having me suck his rock hard cock (I later learned he loved blow jobs more than fucking ass). Good thing, since the only thing I love more than a cock in my pussy is one shoved in my mouth. Dean was plowing my cunt and spinning out a long list of dirty words when he slowed down and said “you want my load whore? You dirty little faggot. You need my cum in your pussy?”

I pulled my mouth off Jose’s cock and moaned “yesssss…..please give me your load. I need your cum inside me."

Dean laughed, “Like you ever had a choice. Like I would waste this load of jizz anywhere but inside your filthy cumdump. Nasty little fag, whored out by your own Dad.”

With that, Dean sped up. I could feel the sweat dripping off his body onto my back, while he pounded my ass so hard I couldn’t keep Jose’s cock in my mouth. I couldn’t stop moaning, and begging. “Please, Dean, fucking give me your cum. Knock me up with your fucking babies. My pussy is made for cum. It needs cum.” Dean laughed again and said “I think that’s the only thing your cunt is for, taking loads."

With that he pounded me a few more times, and roared. “I’m FUCKING CUMMING, FAGGOT! TAKE MY LOAD YOU NASTY FUCKING WHORE.”

All I could do was keep moaning and saying “thank you, thank you, thank you…breed me! breed me! breed me!” Eric and Chris had stopped fucking with Eric’s fat cock shoved all the way inside his boyfriend’s cunt so they could watch Dean’s epic raping of my pussy.

Once Dean collapsed on my furry back, panting, with his fat cock still jammed up my gaping cunt. Eric started to speed up again, and this time it was Chris’ turn to start moaning and begging for a load. “Fuck, baby, I need your load. Knock me up. I gotta have your cum in my pussy. You know how much I love it…”

Eric laughed and said “fuck, I sure did marry a dirty little whore. You want my load baby? Tell me what you want, fag boy!”

“Yes, baby, I gotta have it. Give it to me, prove that I’m your dirty little cumdump property. Knock me up!” 

“Here it comes baby boy. Daddy’s gonna give you his jizz. You ready? BEG FOR IT WHORE!” “FUCK YEAH! BREED ME BABY! I gotta have your cum”

Then Eric slammed into Chris’ ass one last time and you could see his nuts throbbing and a huge load of jizz going into Chris’ greedy hole. 

Chris moaned and kept repeating “fuck, yeah, give me that load baby. Give your boy your load. I need it so bad.”

This time it was Eric’s turn to collapse. He rolled over on the huge bed and his cock slowly slid out of Chris’ cumdumpster with a SLURRRRP sound. His cunt was well used and he was a happy little whore with jizz slowly beginning to drip down his ass crack and onto his leg.

 Finally, Jose said “FUCK that was hot! You guys are all so fucking sexy! MY TURN! Then he shoved his cock back in my mouth and started fucking my face. He only took a few strokes before he unloaded a huge load of spunk inside me. I held his load in my mouth, and then leaned over and snowballed it to Chris. 

He moaned loudly and then passed it to Eric, who moaned as well and then sat up. Chris was still on his hands and knees when Eric leaned down and shoved his face in Chris’ gaping cunt. He pushed some of Jose’s load into Chris’ ass and then moved over, pushed Dean aside and gave me the rest of it in my cunt.

I moaned “FUCK YEAH! Thank you baby! Give me that jizz!”

We all collapsed, laughing, in a heap. Dean pulled out a pipe and said “which one of you dirty fags wants more?”

All four of us said “ME!” Dean took a huge hit off the pipe and shotgunned it to me. Then he said “let’s find some more pigs to rape these two cunts. What do you say?” I was passing the shotgun to Chris and both of us moaned at the prospect of more men coming over to use us like the dirty fags we are.

This morning at 6:00 AM I received a couple of phone calls from my man, Ford. Honestly, initially I blew-off the calls, however once I got up I texted Ford, letting him know I would be running errands most of the day. However, as he apparently really wanted to get into my ass, he persisted, joking I was busy tricking with other guys, and simply didn't have time for him. Eventually he convinced me to come over to his place when I was done running around. When I was done with my errands I stopped by my place, and fortunately had enough time to give myself a good cleaning out. The I left for his place, and upon arriving, as usual, the door was unlocked so I walked in, only to find Ford chatting with a woman. I was slightly thrown-off, but they quickly concluded their conversation and she left. Ford and I immediately went upstairs and spread a sex blanket on the floor, we undressed as he looked me over, a big smile on his face. Whatever he was thinking was cool with me. The chemistry between us is great, and undressed Ford is a fucking Greek god with his tall stature, heavily muscled body, thick dick and heavy balls, and that beautiful cocoa dark skin. We start smoking a little to get in the mood, doing a little deep throating before Ford told me to lay back and relax, as for a first, he sucked my dick to the base, deep-throating my seven and a half inch uncut medium thick brown dick. I would have been happy if he had continued sucking me, but instead he paused, stepped into the bathroom where, I imagine, he cleaned himself out. After an absence of a few minutes the bathroom door opened, and as he approached I hoped to myself he wouldn't smell of soap, and to my pleasure, nope, his balls still had the delicious musky male aroma. As I lay on my back, Ford lubed up his ass and my cock, crouched over my pole and slid it right-up his hole. Damn if his muscle ass didn't swallow up every inch of me. He road my cock, and I responded by thrusting every inch of my cock inside his ass, eventually getting him on all fours so I could take him from behind. I fucked him for several minutes, and in pausing, found it kinda hot that when I withdrew, some of his clean ass juices plopped onto the blanket, looking like a lump of cum - but I could tell it was just good old ass slime. Ford was apparently done bottoming for the moment as his inner top took over. He had me lay on on my back, and, scooping the love juice from the blanket, he fingered it into my ass before adding some Vaseline and lube to the mix, then pushing his dick inside my hole. His dick felt absolutely perfect, having just the right amount of thickness to give my ring a stretch and make me feel it and moan in approval, yet also having just the right length so I would recognize a big boy was bruising my guts. As he fucked, he commented the lube was quite creamy, almost as if I had come pre-loaded. I wish! For the next 30 minutes or so, we switched into various positions including me on my stomach, and him on top of me facing the opposite direction, head to feet. Finally Ford told me to get onto all fours, having me back-up onto his dick, and taking the active role in bouncing up against his cock. s me get on all 4s and lets me back up and bounce against his dick. He had been fighting the nut for a while, having several times told me he was close to cumming, so when he next cautioned me, over and over I intensified my thrusts against his cock until he all but shouted "I'm cumming," and cum he did, cumming so violently I could actually feel the individual spurts of his cum blowing into my ass. After Ford had recovered his second wind he fucked me a little longer with that fat dick of his, but finally, his energy spent, he withdrew. Turning to kiss him, I found a sweet honeysuckle scented puddle below my ass. "Is that your nut?" I asked. "It's yours," he answered, adding "it oozed out of your hole." I think there was romantic innuendo there. Cool. We cleaned-up, dressed and I was on the road. As I still hadn’t actually nutted, once I got home I got my nine inch dildo, lubed it up and proceeded to continue the fuck the hell out of my ass while laying on my bed. The dildo was about the same thickness as Ford's cock, but somewhat longer as I like to keep my ass ready for that occasional cock which can push past the second ring. After extensively working my ass, I finally I got off, spurting everywhere. Cleaning the dildo, I found it nice and frothy and smelling like that honeysuckle from the blanket. Mmmmm. I’m gonna have to ask Ford if he wants me showing up pre-loaded next time. Good thing I’ve been freezing my loads.

You're looking for tips from Tops, of course, but as a bottom who's been on the receiving end (including twice in the last month!), let me give you a few pointers from my end: 1. This needs to be something you enjoy doing first and foremost. You need to enjoy the power and control you get from being able to decide who gets to fuck another man, who gets to unload in another man. If that doesn't light your fire in a very special way, whoring someone out is probably not worth the effort for you. The bottom also has to genuinely enjoy his submission to you and be committed to pleasing you by allowing himself to be fucked by the men you send. This activity is a special power dynamic, and it's fantastic for both men when it works. What you don't want is to find yourself with a lazy bottom who just wants somebody else to do his shopping for him, and starts picking and choosing from the men who arrive. At that point, you're not really in control. 2. Almost every bottom fantasizes about being whored out and used by a gang of Tops. That doesn't mean every bottom is a good candidate. If you choose to do it, make sure the bottom is going to be an active participant, and not lie there like yesterday's catch at the fish market. 3. Pimping a bottom resembles work. There are ads to place and respond to, conversations to start up at the bathhouse, the bar or the ABS, phone calls to make to your network of FBs - you are, in essence, a broker. You have to get the word out, in an experienced way, to the right people. 4. Check your scruples. Whoring a bottom lies somewhere between commodities brokering and human trafficking. Some Tops whore bottoms because they enjoy the rush of it, and get off on the power, but are generally benign. Others look at bottoms as lower-order animals and think nothing of actually prostituting them in a cash sense. Even though it would never bother me in the slightest if a Top or a Dom made money off my ass, the latter is a criminal offense. 5. It's not just about your pleasure, or the bottom's, for that matter. If you're going to be successful, you need to make sure that your clients, the Tops you attract, are pleased with their experience as well. The dynamic between the pimp and the bottom is important in making sure the sexual experience of the Top is a great one. It's all about the presentation, the setup, and the performance - especially in a group setting. The energy built or not built during a sex act will translate into what happens next. A group scene is more likely to give high-energy results than a series of one-on-one scenes, in my experience. What you say while it's going on - your words of challenge and encouragement - can ensure that. 6. If you're going to whore out a bottom, you may as well whore out two at once. From what I've been told, that seems to draw better results for some reason. 7. I'm not sure how to tell you to find the right bottoms for the job, except to suggest that you not take one on unless you've test-driven him first and know that he has the staying power to offer a loud, lusty fuck to several men in a row and has the experience to handle a wide range of cockery. As to how you actually go about locating, contacting and recruiting other Tops and suggesting they come fuck a specific bottom, I have no idea - you'll have to ask them. Whoring Tops, I'd love to hear this, too. If you have questions about my experience from the bottom end, fire away.

1. Apt #5C He was drenched. Dripping. The rain let up two blocks from the address he held in his hand, but too late. He was already soaked. Shoes squished climbing the stoop. Manetti/Prior, written in faded blue ink on yellowed masking tape, ink running in splotches, evidence of at least a year exposed to weather—rain, snow, cold; now heat and steamy humidity, even now near midnight—but those words he could make out. The second, his and his brother's last name. There was a stack of buttons each with tape next to it, each with a name or names next to hard, rusty buttons. Manetti is who he wrote to the second time, the time he asked if he could come out and stay with him, with them. The first time he wrote to his brother directly, but Manetti, Mike Manetti, answered for his brother. He wrote he didn't know where his brother was. He thought he might have gone back to his mother’s house in Long Beach. Back to California. Chris pushed the button. There were only quiet sounds of a summer Tuesday night in New York. Except for a cab slowly prowling down the street, the block was abandoned, desolate. A fire hydrant left open poured into the summer street. The cab's tires slushed through the puddle and drove off into the night. The facades of the streetscape was dreary, few building’s windows lit, most were boarded up. The one next to this building had a big 'Condemned' placard on the door. A movement in a trashcan at the bottom of the stoop. A rat emerged setting the lid ajar. A couple of needles lay on top of black garbage bags inside. No, he wrote to Manetti, his brother Ben hadn't come back to California. He, Chris, Ben's younger brother, lived in Long Beach with his mother—well, had lived with her, he wasn't exactly getting along with her at the moment—well, her boyfriend actually, which is why he was trying to get a hold of his brother. The letter he sent back to Manetti was rambling. He didn't have a place to live. His mother didn't actually ask him to leave, but every morning, usually at the bathroom, Carl, his mother's new boyfriend, posed, arm on door frame, menacingly in his heavily sweat-stained underwear, pee stain in the crotch. Chris would squeezed passed him. Every day it seemed Carl took up more and more of what was left of the space in the doorway, inched his underwear's yellow bulge closer and closer to him. The day he wrote to Manetti, he felt desperate. He had felt Carl's body heat as he passed under his arm, felt a wisp of his chest hair, a brush on his shoulder from Carl's black, musky pit. He felt Carl's wetness linger on his shoulder, his residual stink. Could he crash with them? He'd pay his way. He couldn't stay at home any longer. Please, he implored in his letter. Yes, Manetti wrote back. A single word. So Manetti. The door buzzed and Chris leaned into its weight as the bolt unlocked. After receiving Manetti’s reply, Chris, a month shy of graduating high school, stopped at his house to pick up some clothes. For the last couple weeks he was crashing in the back seat of his best friend's Impala. His mechanics job at the Chevron gas station where he worked after school and on Saturdays didn't pay enough for him to afford an apartment, but he had saved enough for a one way ticket to New York. California didn't seem to want him, and living in a car’s back seat wasn't living. Carl was a growing menace that was about to boil over into...he didn't know what. And didn't want to know. The type of menace in Carl’s eyes he was unfamiliar with. Abuse, yes. His own father was brutal to him and his brother sometimes. But there was something else he felt in his gut with Carl. Maybe lower than his gut. It stirred some excitement, but he wanted to get away from it before he knew exactly what its root was. Inside, the hallway was lit by a flickering fluorescent bulb. Two dogs barked in an apartment down the hall. There should have been two bulbs in the ceiling fixture, but one was flickering its way out. The halway was dim, full of shadows. A rickety staircase filled half the narrow corridor. He climbed five floors, each landing a bit dingier than the last, heavier in graffiti as he climbed. On the top floor landing it was nearly pitch black, but a door stood open a crack and a shadow draped in a flimsy robe hovered in the door frame. "You Chris?" a deep voice asked. Chris set his gym bag down at the landing and said yeah, catching his breath. He felt his heart beating. There was a momentary fight or flight response he was trying to suppress. He hadn't expected that he'd be fearful upon arriving at his brother's apartment, but his brother wasn't here. Just Manetti. Manetti moved a little forward, enough so the apartment's light spilled over his broad shoulders, put a halo in back of his long brown hair. Chris made out teeth, a bit of a smile. Manetti extended his hand and the two shook. “Manetti. Mike Manetti.” His grip was firm but the skin soft, a little clammy. "And your Ben's little brother Chris. C’mere!" Manetti pulled him forward, gave him a warm friendly bear hug. Chris could have stayed there in that embrace forever. There was a familiar smell to him. And strength. He hadn't expected it, but he suddenly felt relief; his worry and a continent-wide anxiety melted in that embrace. Manetti released him and looked him over. "Dog shit day out there, Chief. Thunderstorm didn’t even help. Looks like it got you bad. Get in here and take your wet sneaks off." Chris saw the robe was open and that Manetti was naked underneath. He caught a quick view of Manetti' dark hairy torso, thick uncut cock, donkey balls dangling between two muscular, wooly legs. He opened the door for Chris while at the same time knotted up his robe. Chris carried in his gym bag, his few pitiful things: gym clothes, another pair of worn jeans, two old t-shirts (The Romones, Adidas), underwear (dirty), socks (smelly). Manetti closed and bolted the door. Three separate locks snapped into place. "Sorry, I was thinking about going out. Didn't know if you'd get here tonight. It's pretty late." "No, yeah. Sorry." Chris was pretty quiet generally. Didn't like to talk. Always self-conscious of saying something dumb, a leftover from an over-critical father. He looked around at the filthy kitchen—sink full of dishes, ashtray full of butts, dark grimy windows—not much different from home, actually. It was kind of reassuring in a perverse kind of way. Manetti was giving him an intense examination in the kitchen light. He felt he needed to say something to distract from his self-consciousness. "Um, I waited a long time for the bus in Newark. And then I walked to the East Village from the bus station. Lot farther than I thought. I wasn't prepared for rain. Didn’t bring an umbrella. Didn’t really think I’d need one. Dunno why. Guess I'm an idiot." His voice trailed off. Usually he never even said that much. That was [robably more than he'd said in a week. He was nervous, a little frightened, and yet glanced up several times to get a better look at Manetti. “Sorry, I’m going on like a moron. I’m tired I guess. It’s been a long day.” "I can see that," Manetti said, ruffling Chris’ wet hair. “Take your things off and hang them on the window bars. Let ‘em dry out." Manetti picked up Chris' gym bag and tossed it next to the archway to the next room. The kitchen window had retractable bars. It was set at an angle to the building, faced a brick wall and shadowy darkness beyond. Chris looked up and gave Manetti a quick smile, then concentrated on kicking off his shoes. He peeled off his socks and shirt, hanging them through the diagonal bars. A light from across the airshaft flashed. The flash blinded him for a second, and maybe it was a residual image imprinted on his retina, but he thought he saw an outline of a figure lurking in the gloom across the airshaft. "Pants," said Manetti, snapping his fingers. It almost felt like an order, but Chris didn't seem to mind. He was, though, a little embarrassed especially because Manetti was so big compared to him. He looked like some of the dockworkers he'd seen in the port of Long Beach. Big and burly, a little intimidating. He felt the man's eyes running over his thin frame. He felt small, miniature even, in this tiny kitchen. His pant legs dripped on the linoleum but Manetti didn't seem to care. He sat down at the dinette table in his threadbare underwear, setting his back to the window, putting his folded hands in his lap. "Is the bag all you brought?" Manetti nodded to his gym bag. "Yeah, not much, right? I'm not used to packing. Never really gone anywhere. I didn't have no time. Just picked up what was on my floor." Chris noticed the robe had fallen open again revealing one of Manetti's dark, hairy thighs. He quickly looked around the kitchen. "Bathtub?" he said surprised that there was a bathtub in the kitchen. It sat right smack in the middle of the kitchen, dividing the room essentially in two. Didn’t know how he could have missed it when he first walked in. A metal top that doubled as a counter lay on top of it. "Yeah, it’s pretty common in these old walk-ups. Hey, you want some soup or something? I have some left over. Just need to heat it up." Chris nodded eagerly. He hadn't realized just how starving he was. He had a cheese sandwich on the plane but that was hours ago. Manetti was nice, he thought. His furtive glance took in his deep set brown eyes and thick black brows over a smooth forehead. Long brown hair and sideburns. It was weird his brother never spoke about his roommate. "How do you know Ben?" he asked. Manetti went to the fridge and took out a pot and started warming it up on the stove. "Met at a bath house last winter. Took pretty quickly to each other. He fucked me, then I flipped him. We did that all night. Didn’t hook up with anyone else. That night anyway. Then I moved in here with him a week later." Manetti gave him a once over to gauge his reaction as he stirred the soup. Then he added, "You don't really look like brothers." Chris was surprised by how frank Manetti was about being gay, especially that part about the bath house. We wished he could be that bold. "We're step brothers. My dad adopted him when he was sixteen, but that didn’t work out," Chris said. Chris stopped himself from saying more. He listened to the spoon stirring in the pot. It was pretty common for people to say, that they didn’t look alike. He had thin blond hair, almost white, parted on the side, was skinny and on the short side. He liked wearing his hair shoulder-length, whereas his brother had almost a lion’s mane of thick dirty blond hair he always wore in a ponytail. It was one of the first things he could recall, Ben's ponytail. Ben was tall, athletic, broad chested, ten years his senior. They both had their mother’s wide face and striking blue eyes, but that’s where the similarity ended. Ben ruled any room he was in. People flocked to him. He was magnetic. Chris was a loner, shy. Not the brightest bulb, said he dad endlessly. But he was resourceful, could figure stuff out. He was a pretty decent mechanic without ever having any real training besides a semester in shop class. It was the one 'A' he ever got. His mother tried to shield him from his father, but she had her own demons and wasn’t always there for him. So he retreated. To his room, or the back of his friend's Impala, and now to a red Formica kitchen table sitting in his wet underwear with his hands folded in his lap. He looked at the refrigerator across from him. A magnet held up by a photo of Manetti and Ben, arms around each other’s shoulders, standing in knee-length bathing suits on a balcony that looked out at the sea. Chris wondered where they were? Manetti looked a few years younger, had shorter hair and wore a huge goofy smile. He looked a little stoned. Ben's deep tan set off his blue eyes; they almost glowed. He looked happier than he ever did growing up. It must have been breezy because his long ponytail flew like a kite behind him. Chris stared at it while his soup heated up. He idolized his brother. Worshiped him really. Many times after his father had given him a bad spanking, he’d sneak into Ben’s room, into his bed, and silently fall asleep on his chest refusing to shed a tear. He did cry, though, wept inconsolably really, when Ben said he couldn’t stand their house anymore and shouted he was moving to New York. Manetti tested the soup with a loud slurp. His mother demanded to know why New York. He'd met someone in a bar, Ben said, who'd offered him a job. What kind of job do you get offered in a bar? shouted his step father, but Ben was storming out the door raising a middle finger. “When’s the last time you saw him?" Manetti asked. "He’s changed some, you know,” he said. "He's not that Long Beach surfer you used to know." In the photo Chris saw Ben had added a bunch of tattoos. A big dragon crawled over his right shoulder, it's tail re-emerging over his ribs. He saw his brother wasn't that slim teenage surfer he once was either. He was a lot more bulked up, even handsomer if that was possible. "Ben moved out right when he turned eighteen. Hated my dad. Can't blame him. My dad was pretty much of a dickhead. He was okay to me except for my whoopings. He tackled him one time, tried beating the shit out of him, and Ben wailed on his so hard my mom called the police." Chris caught himself as Manetti eyed him. He didn't like to talk about his family’s problems—not to the school counselor, and never to strangers. He rarely did talk about them, didn't even really like to think about them especially. Manetti filled a soup bowl, grabbed a spoon from a drawer, and set it in front of him. "Yeah, I've seen him loose it. He's pretty awesome. You want a towel? You're still dripping," he said. Chris nodded and dug into the soup. Manetti popped out and then returned with a large terrycloth towel. The soup was full of large chunks of vegetables and warmed his stomach. He took the towel and mopped his head, then draped it over his shoulders. For the first time in as long as he could remember—weeks? months?—he was beginning to relax. He wasn't used to someone being nice to him. Especially someone he didn't know that well. After his dad left, his mom had turned into a basket case. And now, any day with Carl in the house was like walking through a minefield; made his dad seem like Gandhi. He must have been scowling into his soup because when he looked up, Manette said, "You Prior boys are so serious, aren't you?" Manetti flashed him a warm smile, which he shyly returned, then went back to shoveling spoonfuls of soup. "In your letter you said you haven't seen my brother in two weeks,” Chris said between bites, keeping his eyes in the soup bowl. “Ain't like him to just disappear. He’d split for a time but would always come back. Know where he’s at?" Manetti sat across from him, reached in the ashtray and took out a half-burnt joint. He lit it and took a long drag and looked up at the ceiling. He exhaled, thought for a moment before offering it to Chris. Chris put down his soup, pinched the joint, and took a short toke. He exhaled, said thanks, handed it back and went back to his soup. "Well,” said Manetti thoughtfully. “Chris Prior..." He paused, taking a long hit, taking an even longer time to reflect before exhaling. "...Ben Prior, or Big Ben, as he's called, disappears from time to time. So do I. I didn’t want to get into it in the letter, but truth is, sometimes, a client will want us for an extended period of time." Manetti took another hit. As he exhaled, he leaned in toward Chris. "Sometimes drugs are involved, so you know, we’re sometimes really out of it. Sometimes someone buys one of us for a time. Comes with the territory. We come back to each other. Eventually. But we’ve learned our partnership needs to be very open." Chris' spoon stopped in mid-air at some point while Manetti was talking. He looked him over. Long dark wavy hair, highlights of red in the harsh kitchen light, long side burns who's points hit his high cheek bones, a wide mouth with lips like seagulls wings, brown eyes that suddenly glinted with mischief. His robe had fallen open again revealing swirling black hair over pale white skin across an expansive chest. Chris' brain twitched. Something was off. He knew stoned, and he wasn't getting stoned. Manetti scratched his chest but his fingers lingered in his mat of chest hair. Chris saw him open his robe a bit more to brush his left nipple on his massive pec; he diddled with a thin metal bar that pierced his large tit. Chris placed the spoon in the bowl, took up the proffered joint, took a hit as casually as he could. With a clenched throat, hoping it sounded like he was being offhand, he asked, "So you're his boyfriend. You’re both hustlers?" He was confused, but not by the news that his brother turned tricks, but that Manetti’s nipple, so unusually large, looked so very appealing. He'd never seen a pierced nipple up close in real life. So much was flooding his senses at once it was hard for him to keep up with his thoughts. "Boy, this is strong shit," he said, handing back the joint. "Laced?" "Just a bit." Manetti's grin widened displaying a beautiful row of perfectly white teeth. Why hadn't Chris noticed just how good looking Manetti was before? He had looked at him through a filter as one of his brother’s friends. But whatever the joint was laced with was magnifying Manetti's magnetism. If Manetti was a hustler he must be a very good one, thought Chris. Manetti’ smile, as it grew, highlighted his strong jaw, became the smile of a shark. Chris was easily bait. "This soup is really good," he said, trying to snap out of his gaze. He finished up the last of it. "Uh, can I use your bathroom?" "Other side of the bedroom. Ready for some more soup?" Chris stood up, placing a hand on the back of the chair. For some reason he didn’t feel hungry anymore. “Nah, I’m good.” He glanced out the airshaft and again a slight paranoia gripped him as he looked into the inky darkness. In the apartment across from them something was moving. He was wobbly, but more than stoned, he was suddenly horny. He also saw he was starting to get a woody, one that was pretty evident wearing only thin underwear. Manetti noticed it too. Chris excused himself before it became even more obvious. Suddenly, he was confused by the apartment layout. Off the kitchen was the only other room, a bedroom. Off it, a small closet, and a smaller closet with a toilet and a dinky sink. In the bedroom a sling hung over a futon on the floor. He knew what it was even though it was the first sling he'd ever encountered. He'd seen them in Ben's magazines, the ones he left behind between his mattress. Rawhide, Stroke, Bound and Gagged, and Chris' favorite, Magnum. He saw the leg straps, the leather pillow, the wrist restraints, the mirror perched over the top. He felt himself woozy, and grabbed a leg strap to steady himself. Not the best choice, for it immediately flew away from him and with his other hand he had to grab the metal support. The whole sling set into motion a round of clanging as chains banged against metal posts. "You okay in there?" Manetti's voice called out from the kitchen. He peered around the kitchen door to see if the kid was still standing. "Yeah, I'm good," Chris answered stumbling to the bathroom. "I bet you are," Manetti responded with a laugh. "Ben said you were a choir boy. That really true?" "Really true." He shut the bathroom door, relieved that he had found a room, compact as it was, where he could compose himself. As soon as he shut the door, he struggled to get his act together. He mulled over the fact that there were only two rooms in the entire apartment—kitchen, bedroom. Where was he going to sleep? And, fuck, he couldn’t deny how horny he was for Manetti. He saw how the evening was leading in one direction, and he saw he couldn’t and didn’t want it to go any other way. Manetti would be gentle, he reassured himself. That first embrace in the hallway surely proved he would understand that, being his first time, his brother’s lover would be gentle, would let him take things at his own pace. But he was his brother's lover. But he was also a hustler. His brain was frazzled. Sitting down with his underwear around his ankles he looked up at the back of the bathroom door. Taped to it was a foldout from Magnum magazine. It was Ben and Manetti sixty-nining each other with their forearms up each other's ass. Cocks dripping, Crisco smearing, Ben and Manetti were frozen in a frenzy of fists. Chris popped a rock hard boner and dropped the biggest shit of his entire life. *** Manetti unhooked the leg straps from the end of the sling, folded it in half, then re-attached the straps to the arm hooks. That left the futon on the floor unencumbered from above. He popped in one of Drax's bareback twink videos in the VCR, grabbed the remote and laid back on the futon propping his head with an oversize pillow against the radiator. It was late but the Tina laced joint had him in a semi-energized mood. He was sure Chris must have felt similarly. The toilet flushed and Chris emerged. The boy, still clad only in his white underwear, shirtless, flawless, a thin little scarecrow, stood at the bathroom door. Blond hair, dry now but flying every which way. A perfect skinny beach boy, ten years Ben's baby brother. Their resemblance was minimal. Whereas he and Ben worked out regularly, having pecs, necks, and 'ceps to prove it, Chris, looking around the small studio confused, seemed frail. He was more than a little intimidated by all the pornography he was discovering on the walls, porn stars Manetti and Ben had either known or worked with over the years. Mostly signed. "To Manetti / Good times, bad times, baddest times! Rich" or "Big Ben / Your name does not lie, Eric." "Come. Sit," encouraged Manetti patting the space next to him. "How you feel? Like the joint?" "Yeah, man," said Chris, trying to sound cool. "That's powerful dope. It's dusted?" "Nah, a little Tina. You like?" Chris gave a single nod with a flicker in his eye that Manetti zeroed in on. He casually took a sip of water he’d brought from the kitchen. "Want to try it pure?" Chris sat next to him cross legged. "I guess so," he said. Manetti could smell him. A little grungy, a slight smell of urine probably from the wet, dirty underwear. Ben had told Manetti he thought his little brother was on-again and off-again homeless, at least not staying at his house much cuz of the mom's new boyfriend. Manetti grabbed a pipe from the window ledge, set his glass aside, and stuffed the pipe with a little white powder from a baggy. He handed the pipe to Chris. "Have you blown clouds before?" Manetti knew the answer before he asked it. Chris shook his head. Up close Chris was even more striking than across the table. It was his eyes, soulful lost puppy eyes. When you first looked at him he looked just like any skinny white kid, but sitting crossed legged next to him, you could really see how lost he was. His six pack abs wasn’t from working out but from not eating enough, his ribcage pronounced as he breathed. Hairless chest, tiny nipples, little or maybe no armpit hair. The kid didn't even look like he shaved yet. Whereas he was all hair. From his heavy five o'clock shadow that was dark even right after a morning shave, strong jaw with a cleft chin, his father’s rugged aquiline nose, shaggy, unkempt cluster of chestnut hair, and trade-famous pointed sideburns. "Just inhale it like you would hash and hold it." Chris did as he was told. The kid was nothing if not a fast learner. And obedient. The idea of introducing him to Drax crossed his mind. He brushed the thought away. The kid was much too cherry. Drax would eat him alive. Still, what was he going to do with him after tonight? He was definitely going to get in the way of his trade. As Chris was about to blow the smoke out, Manetti took the boy’s mouth and covered it with his own. He breathed in the smoke from Chris' lungs, held it for a beat before exhaling. "No need to waste it. You take it from me this time." Manetti lit the bottom of the pipe, waited for the white cloud to form, then sucked it in. Out of the corner of his eye he could tell Chris was grappling with how Manetti had grabbed his chin and brought their lips together. Chris watched him, biting his lip with anticipation, moving closer to Manetti’s mouth. It was almost like kissing, something he'd never done with man. Manetti motioned with his finger and Chris moved in. Manetti exhaled into him, breathed a new kind of life into him. As he held it, Manetti leaned back against the pillow. "So, what's your plan, Chief?" Chris followed suit and leaned back into the large pillow he shared with Manetti. After he'd exhaled, Manetti took a long sip of water. He offered the glass to Chris. "Don't really have one. Thanks." Chris took a sip and handed the glass back to Manetti. "Not a really good plan, Chief—not to have a plan. Ben thought you were queer. He right?" Manetti was fixed on the TV, watching a blond dude about Chris' age but not as skinny getting sucked by a balding, stocky daddy type. "I used to beat off to Ben's porn. So I guess, yeah. Twice, when I stayed over at my best friend Jeff's place, before his parents didn’t want me coming around anymore, we jacked off to some straight shit.” Chris looked around again at all the porn posters and photos hanging on the walls. “I think I recognize that guy in that poster there from one of them," he said pointing to a huge 'roided porn star with an extra-long dick, one with perfect hyper-masculine features perched on the hood a Rolls Royce. It was signed "To Manetti, thanks for the ride, TJ. "Mr. No Balls? Hah! Tyler says he's straight, only does gay for pay. Don't believe him. You can shit in his mouth and he'd pay you for it." Chris barked out a surprised laugh. “No, seriously he loves twinks. I bet if I call him right now, he’d come over and ask you shit in his mouth.” Manetti made a motion like he was going to get up and call, but Chris, laughing, held him back. Chris’ hand on Manetti’ shoulder, feeling it's mass, registered quickly on both of them. Chris quickly put his hands back in his lap. Manetti added a little more white power to the pipe. "’Nother hit, Chief?" Chris nodded. His heart was already pounding and he felt flush all over. He was also pulling on his pud unconsciously, getting a little wet spot on the tip, staining his already stained underwear. Manetti took note, seeing the kid was totally unaware of what he was doing. He calmly fired up the pipe and slowly leaned into Chris. He blew into his lungs lightly adding just the tip of his tongue, and deliberately scraping the boy’s face lightly with his cheek. Chris's eyes widened. He'd never felt a beard against his face like that. "So that's it. A couple wanks with Jeff, you on one end of the couch, your best bud on the other, eyes glued straight to the TV. Aware of him but never dared to looking. Am I right or am I right?" "Yeah, something like that.” Chris’ mind spun. His next words flew out of him as if he was compelled to confess to Manetti. “Except one time this real nerd, Kyle—I never told nobody this—he helped me with some math homework. His parents both worked so we were alone at his house. Everyone knew he was a fairy. Ran like a girl. We were in his bedroom. He put his hand on my pants, which usually kind of hangs cuz I don’t hitch ‘em up, and he pulled them right off me and gives me a blow job. Like, I didn’t even stop him even though he was sucking my dick. I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” But it felt good being open with Manetti. He felt a mild release and a kind of excitement in the act. "Did you give Kyle a blow job back?" Chris scoffed at the thought. Then after a beat, added, “Actually, I thought about it. Sometimes late at night, jacking off under the covers, I remembered how much I liked it. How soft his mouth was. How it felt to cum into it, into this big wet thing. Like how I didn't have to hold back at all. Like how maybe I’d like to give Jeff a blow job. Give him the same feeling. Like he wouldn’t have to hold back and just come in my mouth and I’d swallow it. Okay, shut up. Stop talking now,” he said, talking to himself in a voice that could have been his father's. Manetti laughed, but made a quick U-turn and became serious. "Well, what wasn't nice, Chief, is that you should always reciprocate. Know what I mean? I mean if I gave you a blow job, I'd expect you'd give me one back. That’s only fair, right? And if I rimmed your ass, I expect you'd return the favor." "What’s rimming?" asked Chris. Manetti looked at him sideways, saw he was honestly confused. This kid was too innocent to be believed! “You must have seen it in one of Ben’s magazines.” Chris shook his head. Manetti found the remote control and sped the video up. "There. See what that kid’s doing?" Manetti pointed at the screen where the blond kid was under the older daddy’s hairy ass. "He’s eat out man's pussy." "The fuck out!" said Chris but didn't take his eyes from the screen. Manetti saw the kid's boner tenting up in his shorts. "That's fucking nasty, man. Gross! Why would someone do that?" Yet the boy’s eyes couldn’t be pried from the screen with a crowbar. He was pulling again at his underwear. "It's like getting a blow job but a hundred times better.” He motioned to Chris’ hardon. "Looks as if you like the nasty." Chris stopped pulling at his dick alarmed. “Wait. I’ll fast forward. You're gonna love this." The VHS tape sped up, then skidded to a stop. The boy was now under a rim seat with the daddy sitting on top. A close-up showed the boy lifting his head, licking the daddy’s balls then sticking his tongue deep into the daddy’s hairy ass. "I bet you’d be good under there." Chris felt his whole skin glisten in a light sweat. His nerves felt electric. Manetti flicked off the room lamp. The room basked in the dark glow of the TV. Chris felt an imaginary blanket was enveloping him and Manetti, separating them from the world. With the light off, he had an urgent need to take off his underwear and bare himself to Manetti. Manetti sensed it and reached out and slipped off Chris' underwear. The kid had a nice seven inch rod, rigid and beaded with pre-cum. Very little pubic hair. Looked like he clipped it, too. His legs were hairless, thin and smooth. Such smooth pale skin got him excited and he casually opened his robe revealing his long, uncut cock angling above his firm, hairy belly. Chris looked at him achingly. He took the boy's hand and placed it on his manmeat. Chris caressed it lightly at first, the first time he'd ever touched a man’s penis. Manetti felt him quickly go from a light touch to a firm grip. He pumped a little in the boy's hand. The hand barely wrapped around his shaft. But what he did hold was like being in the grip of a cobra. His other hand aimed for Manetti’s chest. His finger ran through his chest hair making a bee-line for his pierced nipple. When he make contact Manetti could wait no longer. He pounced, gripping Chris’ legs and spinning him around, pulling his legs into the air to expose his butthole. He dove down to engulf his sphincter and the kid let out a moan of pure pleasure, his neck arched looking up to his face. "Oh, fuck, dude," Chris cried. "Oh, shit that feels good. Jesus. Christ! Oh shit." It coaxed Manetti to pull the boy's pursed asslips apart even more and deep dived his tongue into this virgin hole. “Push out,” ordered Manetti. "More!" The boy hadn't wiped well and there was an acrid taste of shit around the kid's stained hole. It horned Manetti even more, driving his tongue deeper into this nasty, puckering pit. “Push fucker!” Every nerve ending in Chris' bunghole bristled in pleasure as he pushed out his hole. Manetti's long tongue dug into the hole, which fought instinctively against entry. Manetti’s mouth was relentless, chewing, licking, sucking on the boy's ass lips. Chris tried fighting against the tongue from entering, but bit by bit he felt the pleasures of giving up his hole, physically and mentally, to push out and let this man he’d met only a few hours before enter him in his most vulnerable spot. Manetti beard scratched his tender skin, but it felt incredible, loosened him more and more. He heard the man spit, his hole dripping wet, and felt a finger entering him. This was the first time he'd ever been penetrated, and though it was uncomfortable and hurt, at the same time it excited him. He felt conflicted, fooling around with his brother's boyfriend, afraid of where this might lead. But he knew where he wanted it to lead. Manetti held his legs firmly, looked down into his open face. Chris was afraid and yet attracted at the same time. Manetti was all hair, chest, shoulders, a black jungle around his cock, even a bit of hair on his back that he felt with his legs. Manetti held his legs over his shoulders to dig into that smooth, tasty boyhole. From that vulnerable position, Manetti sucked in a testicle, then the other, which made the kid cry out in pleasure and surprise. He then returned to that beautiful virginal, pliable, slowly opening tunnel. The sensation of having his hole eaten was driving him wild. Hoarsely, he spat out, "Mike, I want to return the favor." Manetti looked down into the boy's face, became curious, wondering if the kid would do it or would cop out at the last minute. He released him and the kid scurried through Manetti’s legs, putting himself beneath the man's furry butt like he'd seen the twink do on TV. Manetti squatted over his face as he felt the boy’s lips surrounding his crack. The kid pulled on Manetti's legs to get him to squat lower. "Oh, fuck yeah. You're as big of a pig as your brother. Eat my shithole, boy. Dig in, get lost in it.” Manetti ground his ass over the boy’s face. “Rank, right? Be a little toilet pig. You felt what I did, how deep I got. Return that favor. Be a sewer. Be a cell pool. Just give in to it. Get lost in there." And Chris did. His cock remained an iron pole, Manetti noted, while his tongue didn’t stop for a moment cleaning his dirty shithole. Chris had never felt as uninhibited as this. Manetti’s whole butt was one massive trench of black hair. The crack seemed to go on forever. He licked and licked, searching to find the center. Manetti’s musky odor drove his brain into delirium. He was a boy on a mission and would not give up until he made Manetti’s hole feel as good as Manetti had made his. Minutes went by till he arrived, finding the smooth oasis of flesh through the dark brush. It pulsed with heat on his tongue, and gave off the pure scent of a man. He couldn't believe how wonderfully soft the skin felt across his tongue nor the nasty taste that reeked from his hole. Instead of being repulsed by the stench, he was in a frenzy to please Manetti but he also found he really liked it. He did what Manetti had done and lapped and circled the hole, until he found he could dart his tongue inside, which produced an animal snarl from Manetti. "Rrrrrr, fuck yes, piglet. Get in there you little fuck pig." Then something happened Chris didn't quite understand, but knew in his gut he liked right away. The hole he was chewing on opened up slightly and a vast area of Manetti's rectum pushed out with it. His mouth was confronted with his first rosebud, although at the time he didn't know what it was. Right after this mound of gelatinous flesh revealed itself to him, like some startled sea creature, it pulled back into its hole. Manetti went wild. Chris felt his legs being pulled in the air again, separated, a tongue slithered into his entrance. An infinite amount of pleasure, giving and receiving, before there was a brief pause, then a heavy hand cracked against his butt. "Say, Thank you, Sir." "Thank you, Sir," repeated Chris, his ass stinging, feeling a sense of shame and pleasure and pride all at the same time. "You taste so fucking good, I want to eat you up, pig boy," growled Manetti. "Let's get you in the sling. I have to bang this pretty pussy." They sprang up and he quickly showed Chris how to connect the legs chains back to the hooks. Chris rubbed his butt and felt the heat from the slap Manetti had given him. "Climb in, boy, and I'll give you the ride of your life." As Chris was figuring out how to get in, Manetti said, "You liked blowing clouds?" Chris nodded. "Then you're going to love this." He quickly poured some powder in a shot glass, mixed a little water in it and sucked it up in a plunger. "Okay, settle in. Put your legs through here.” Manetti paused, then ran a hand up and down Chris' torso, ending by fondling his cock and balls. “You happy you met me?” Chris nodded. "And you've never been fucked before?" Chris shook his head fiercely, anticipating what was to come. “Comfy?" Chris nodded again eagerly, starting to slowly hump Manetti's paw. "Not so fast, boy. I want you to learn to feel it not just in your dick but also inside your hole.” Manetti pulled Chris' dick away from his body to the boy cried, then let it slap against his belly. “You gonna do whatever Sir says, yes slave?" Manetti squeezed a little lube on Chris' hole. He wet a finger in his mouth and pushed it up Chris' ass a good inch or two. It was uncomfortable for a second while Manetti twisted his finger lubing all side of Chris’ tight cave, but Manetti kept wiggling it around and Chris not only got used to the sensation, but found himself writhing a bit on Manetti finger, trying to get him to penetrate him further. "Okay, this'll be a little cold and might sting, but just for a minute." Manetti replaced his finger with the plunger, stuck it up Chris's canal as far as it would go, and then shot the liquid into the boy's empty hole. Shit yes, it was cold and stung like a bitch. Chris bore down as Manetti finished injecting his ass with the cold liquid, then pulled the plunger out of him. At first he felt nothing but coldness warming up inside him. He felt a bit let down anticipating something intense. Manetti looked him over, stroked his erect dick and tweak his small nipples. “Feel anything?” Chris shook his head. Manetti went over to the VHS recorder and switched tapes. While it was revving up, Manetti put on a leather cap and vest over his otherwise naked body. Chris was truly impressed, if not a little intimidated, by the severe transformation a few bits of costume made to Manetti. It also altered Manetti's attitude. Manetti looked straight out of one of his brother’s leather magazines. It brought out a sense of privilege and arrogance even. Manetti went to the bookshelf and opened a box and pulled out an orange capped rig. He strapped his arm with a tourniquet, feeling for a vein against the dim TV light. He slammed himself and started breathing heavily. His mouth shaped into an round 'O' and his eyes widened in sudden astonishment. Something was happening in Chriss too, something like a serpant eminating from his hole. He felt a strong surge of desire. "You look so fucking great, Sir. Like a god." Chris could not see Manetti’s eyes, only dark pockets where his eyes should be. Chris couldn’t help himself and started pleasuring the feeling his ass. Words flew out of him. "Or like the devil," he whispered like at confession. Something heating up inside his hole made him feel intensely desirous of Manetti. Wanting him like he never wanted anything before. Manetti cough. "FUCK!" Manetti shouted widening his eyes. "Christ fuck!" He could barely stand, and leaned heavily on the bookcase. "Hot damn, boy. How you feeling?” He was breathless, trying to put the orange cap back on the rig. “You feel it yet?" Manetti looked to him out of focus, but a feeling of euphoria was sweeping through Chris' body, making himself pull on his cock at the same time he fingered his butthole. He felt electric, energized, wanted Manetti to touch him all over, maybe even smack him again. "I feel great, Sir,” he said. As Manetti staggered from the bookcase and came closer, he sat up in the sling and ran his hands across Manetti’s hairy chest. "I wanted to do that the second I came in the door, Sir. Fuck, you are so hot. My ass is yours. Whatever you want to do to it. Beat me if you want to." "Beat my ass—SIR!" returned Manetti, now holding on to the chains while he was rushing, where Chris' butt lay exposed, so desirous of being fucked for the very first time. "Yes, SIR, beat my ass again—SIR." And Manetti did, harder than the first time. "Thank you, SIR," replied Chris, falling back against the leather pillow, pushing his ass out of the sling. A light turned on in the room across the airshaft. Chris didn't notice, but Manetti did. "You're welcome, boy. Let's get you settled in." With that Manetti quickly locked his leg restraints, still breathing heavily, punctuating fucks under his breath as he worked. Before Chris knew it, Manetti had restrained his arms above his head. He gladly went along with whatever Manetti wanted to do. As long as it didn't involve needles. That was the only thing that freaked him a little but he tried not to think about it. If it wasn't for the feeling of horniness overcoming every molecule in his body he might have been spooked by the restraints. But now he was accepting everything that this hairy demon breathing over him was doing. It was easy to inhale Manetti’s pheromones, which blotted out the picture of him hunched over, shooting up. Or maybe he secretly liked that. He didn’t know what he thought anymore. He arched his head toward Manetti’s cock. It was veiny, half sheathed in foreskin. Leaking pre-cum. He licked it. A taste of salt and cheese. Nothing had ever tasted so delicious and desirable to him. He still had a trace of Manetti’s dirty ass on his lips and it mixed with salt and cheese from his foreskin. Manetti turned on a light over the sling and flipped on a video camera propped next to the bookcase. Manetti slowly turned the boy’s peach fuzz face to the side, checked that the view finder was in close, recording each translucent strand of blond hair on the boy's upper lip, and slid his veiny cock into the boy's mouth. He swallowed have his fat nob. Manetti was impressed at how much Chris could take. He pushed him further, getting half his shaft into the boy's mouth, feeling where the boy’s throat constricted, made him choked on his shaft, then skullfucked him at that length for a while as his cock grew from semi-flaccid to fully engorged. Manetti withdrew his cock from his mouth, and a web of pre-cum hung like a spider web between them. He let his uncut cock trace over Chris’ pursed mouth. "Ah Chris," he said looking into his eyes. "I'm going to fucking love knocking you up." Chris felt the words echo in his head, puzzled at first by their meaning. On the TV screen a body was being pummeled by a Master with a whip, with a boy writhing in pain and ecstatically twisting under the lash. He looked back at Manetti. Beyond the harsh light shining on him, in the dim light of the room, he saw covered by the beautiful black fur surrounding Manetti's navel, the three prongs of a biohazard tattoo. Manetti placed a red ball in his mouth and tied it behind his head. Chris realized too late what the ball was for, and started fighting against his bindings. Manetti pushed in between his legs. The kid tried to close his legs but the sling and Manetti easily pried him open. He was exposed and vulnerable. Manetti greased his cock and lubed the boy's tight hole. With his first thrust his aim was true. He slid the entire length of the kid's clutching rectum, straight up to his thick black patch of pubic hairs. The girth of his shaft ripped the boy's hole apart. Manetti's hairy balls smacked into the boy's tailbone. He didn't stop till he was right up the boy's chute, fully inside. The boy cried in anguish behind the red ball, tears in his eyes, panic running across his face. Fiercely he was beathing, spitting saliva through the ball in heaving gulps of air. Spit ran down his chin and cheek. He fought as much as he could against the thickness of Manetti’s enormous shaft, against his cuffed arms and legs, but the struggle only engorged Manetti’s immense tool more. "Fight against it, bitch. I love it." Manetti picked up his pace. The pain was unbearable but he was helpless to stop it, and with every stroke he felt his resistance falling away. The longer it went on, and against his will, he started deriving a small bit of pleasure from the pain. Chris slowly began to unclench against Manetti’s girth. For a while, at the pinnacle of each thrust, Manetti would hold his crotch against Chris' hole, letting the boy experience the magnitude of the amount of raw flesh that filled his hole. Chris felt all the hairs of Manetti's pubis surround his hole. Manetti gyrated inside him. He felt the stiff cock push his insides around, moving everything inside, his bladder, his prostate, a gateway to an inner chamber. The sensations started owning him. Making him feel things he didn't know he could feel, sensations that were newly possible. Manetti felt Chris’ hole beginning to open. He looked into the bound boy’s blue eyes and saw a dawning pleasure deep within him. He wasn’t sure the boy even knew he was beginning to draw pleasure from his pain, but he would know and eventually desire it in ever increasing amounts. He new his journey and he would have the boy follow in his tracks. Tears were being overcome with lust as the chemicals were taking over Chris' body. The boy stopped struggling and for a moment became placid. He grew annoyed with the passivity so with both hands, as hard as he could, he smacked with all his force Chris' ass. It made Chris yelp and clench his sphincter which pleased Manetti. He looked down on the boy and was surprised to see a spark of gratitude in Chris' eyes. Just a spark. He needed to work him harder. They fell into a rhythm. For minutes that turned to hours Chris got used to the battering his hole was taking. When he went slack, Manetti slapped him to tighten him up, or twisted his small nipples until he tried to cry out in pain behind the gag. At the beginning, Chris fought the massive rod slamming into him and the occasional whipping his ass endured. But after non-stop fucking, accepting the alternating pleasure and pain, he came to desire the torpedo that was tearing him inside. The familiar walloping he received growing up, he secretly desired from Manetti. In the mirror he watched and felt his butt turn from pink, to red, to purple. At some point he got lost in it, started thrusting himself to get impaled deeper, to be slapped hard, to be punished for sins he couldn’t name. Manetti felt Chris' entire canal loosening. The ass smacking was now built into their fucking. Chris, in fact, in a haze, began thanking him behind the red ball. Whether or not Manetti heard him was questionable, for Manetti's eyes rolled back in his head and he mindlessly fucked and abused what at times became an anonymous body splayed beneath him. Manetti occasionally snapped out of his daze and saw how much he was controlling this innocent young kid, this younger version of his partner, his boyfriend, his lover—imagined he was fucking an innocent version of Ben, one from long ago—then he would lose himself again to the sheer, dark pleasure he derived from his raw cock having its way in a stranger's body. He felt himself edging closer to a climax as his mind vacillated between thoughts of Ben and this new fresh piece of nameless meat. As he felt he was close to cumming, he broke through to awareness of Chris beneath him. He saw Chris' sweat dick never lost its erection no matter what he did to him. He started playing with the boy's meat, milking him, lightly slapping his face so that he came out of his drugged revelry. "I'm about to cum, Chris,” he said as the boy focused on his mouth and words, “but I’m not going to cum in you unless you cum first, got that? That shows you want me to give you my poz cum. Shows me you want to be my fuckhole no matter what. Lets me own you." Through blurred eyes Chris lobbed his head no, but almost immediately started squirming his cock in Manetti clenched fist. "I can't tell if you're trying to get away from me, fuckhole, or you're jacking yourself in my hand. I think you're jacking, you little cum pig." He broke into a dark smile. "Feel how hard you are?" Chris kept bucking, thrashing, squirming away in a sea of ecstasy and lust, both wanting this man to cum and fearing it with all his fiber, but he couldn't hold back, jacking into his fist and slamming back onto his cock, a see-saw that wouldn't end until he pushed himself over the edge. He let loose the longest stream of cum he'd ever shot. Ribbons of sperm spewed over the room. The boy’s hole clenched and spasmed as he shot, immediately triggered Manetti who gushed in rivers of ropey sperm up the boy's open chute. They both quaked in orgasms, each building on the other’s spuming bodies, until they were thrashing uncontrollably against each other, grinding bone against bone, skin against raw skin, till there was a thrust of Manetti that hung in the air, then one more, then a final lunge plunging Manetti deep inside Chris. He held it there, on the edge, feeling himself unload an afterbirth of cum. Manetti stood dripping heavy sweat onto Chris' glistening chest. He rubbed Chris' cum all over his chest and face. He sucked the boy's small nipples, licked up and down the boy's arms, licked his pits, still hard and draining inside him. “You still with me?” he whispered, as he loosened the ball in Chris’ mouth. “That was fucking fantastic.” The boy’s eyes, drugged as they were, did not lie. Manetti kissed him deep, then lay on top of him feeling his heart beating against his. He rested there for a moment feeling the slickness between them, the kid’s sperm matting his chest and abs and pubes. He licked up a river of the boy’s cum welled in his sternum, and was surprised to see Chris open his mouth for him. The boy had the makings of a true pig, he thought, as he released the drool into the greedy boy's maw. He watched the lust still simmering within the boy as he swallowed. Maybe he was Drax material after all. ***

One of my favorites... My mother always said my heart was too big for my own good. She didn’t understand why I did so much volunteer work. I didn’t understand how other people didn't. While young women always want to work with kids, young men, I've found, have fewer volunteering opportunities, so when I found I enjoyed sharing time with the elderly, I stuck with it. When they didn’t get visitors often, I would come and spent a day with them. I always did stuff like that. When I read the advertisement from Mr. Johnson, a 62 year old who had AIDS and was looking for a gay friendly buddy, I didn’t think twice - I applied. Mr. Johnson was a real silver daddy with a friendly smile. “You don’t mind that I’m gay?” he asked me when we met. “ "No, of course not," I replied, "I’m also gay." Smiling, Mr. Johnson replied “Then it’s not awkward when I say you’re a handsome fellow.” We both laughed. There was a real click between us. Perhaps because we were both gay and knew the lifestyle and the prejudice... and the sex. Mr. Johnson said he was an avid barebacker back in the day, which was, of course, the reason he contracted HIV. He admitted that he didn’t stop having raw sex after he was tested positive. “Some men just don’t care” he explained, “they just want to enjoy. They want to feel the meat and not the rubber.” Then he asked if I had ever done it without a condom. “Yeah I have,” I admitted, “when I was a teenager and fooled around with boys of my own age I knew were disease free I didn’t bother, but when I grew older and met older guys I did start using condoms." I also had a steady boyfriend for a while who fucked me raw, but I never visited the sleazy places Mr. Johnson had frequented. He told me all about the crazy sex parties he attended, that he had tried watersports, fisting, s&m, several types of drugs. How he was a frequent visitor of baths and adult theaters. He didn’t have any regrets about his sex life, although he was sad it wasn’t as active as it used to be. Without shame he said how he bought gay porno mags and had several adult dvds, and on one occasion he asked “Want to see them?”, as if it was the most normal thing to show. I declined, not out of disinterest, but because it would be a little bit too awkward. Mr Johnson was a charming man and we hung out quite a lot. Instead of being just a buddy for him we were becoming real friends. Sometimes I did have the feeling Mr. Johnson was flirting with me. Whenever I went over i would fing gay magazines or dvds on the table or couch. He didn't even bother to hide them from me. Whenever we sat behind a computer I could see the tabs of pornsites like silverdaddies and barebackrt. The worst part was that it didn't bother me. I started to like this little game he was playing, mostly because I never met someone who was courting me like that. Never the less, I was quite aware Mr Johnson was growing increasingly bold in his attempts to woo me. I noticed his bulge more frequently in the shorts he wore, but especially when he wore sweatpants. The thin fabric showed clearly the outline of his cock and he probably didn't wear any underwear underneath them. I even suspected that he was deliberately trying to get a hard on before he opened the door to greet me. This was actually really inappropriate behavior, but it was effective. I always looked at his bulge and he knew it. Every now and then he reached for his crotch, to adjust the dick in his pants or give it another stroke to keep it hard. The scary thing was that I could't stop thinking about what he would come up with next. I imagined that one day I would come in his house, to find him masturbating in front of the TV or computer. Or how he wanted to go for a swim and decided to hop in the same changing room, because the others were already occupied. My cock would get hard thinking about how Mr. Johnson would seduce me and finally would show his cock. I wasn't even wondering if he would do it, I was already in the phase where I wanted him to show me. The night that changed everything started with supper at Mr. Johnson's place. After we were done he proposed to sit on the couch to watch some TV. So far he had behaved himself, but when I sat down the show began. "You know, I'm pretty sweaty, do you mind if I would take a shower?" he asked. I didn't mind at all and wondered what his plan was. Would he ask me to take a shower too? Would he ask me to join him? However Mr. Johnson never asked me to go upstairs with him. Instead, while he showered I watched TV. I noticed a gay dvd cover on the coffee table. A big blurb on the cover said 100% BAREBACK. I opened it and there wasn't a disc in it. My guess was that Mr Johnson was watching it or had watched it recently. When Mr Johnson came downstairs he was only wearing a bathrobe. "Do you mind if I wear these? I didn't want to dress again and it's a bit cooler" he reasoned. I didn't mind. I was waiting until his robe would 'accidently' fall open so I would be confronted by his cock. When Mr Johnson sat next to me my heart pounded in my chest. "What are you watching?" he asked. "Oh nothing, I was looking at something else and chanced to notice this dvd cover." "Ah you saw the cover. Yeah I was watching it, didn't finish it because... well, you know" he smiled. Yeah I knew what he meant, he was jerking off when watching and after he came he stopped the film. "It's all I can do these days" he said, "I mean I would rather do the real thing, but in my condition it's not so easy to find a partner." He was none to subtle: Mr. Johnson was reminding me (i) he had a condition, (ii) in fact he had AIDS, (iii) most people would find it difficult to simply be a friend to him, let alone having sex with him. Of course I felt some sympathy with his experience as an outcast. It seemed to me such a sweet man should be able to have sex like normal people do. "How's your love life?" he asked suddenly asked bluntly. "Well, to be honest I don't really have a love life" I admitted, "I spend most of my time on school and in the weekends I'm usually here." "And I appreciate that," Mr Johnson said, "I really do." When he said that he leaned over and gave me a warm kiss. He was a great kisser and unlike every other guys I've kissed he gave me lots of tongue and ample spit. Now, I am a 'closed-eyes-kisser', so I hadn't noticed that, while we were kissing, he had opened his bathrobe, but I understood as much when he guided my hand to his throbbing cock. When I felt the warm shaft I opened my eyes and finally saw the cock about which I had been fantasizing. Mr Johnson's dick was large and uncut and on the base of his cock was a big metal cock ring. His foreskin almost covered the head completely and was so tight you could see exactly the outline of his bulbous knob end. It made his dick look even more enormous. I began stroking his cock while still being French kissed. Mr Johnson reached under my shirt and started pinching my nipples. He wasn't really gentle about it and my nipples were soon sore. "Suck me" he whispered in my ear, "I want you to suck me." Silently, I bent over towards his dick. It was already leaking precum which I lapped up first, ignoring how noxious the contents was. I did my best to pull his foreskin back, to expose more of his purple knob. Taking his cock into my lips, I blew Mr. Johnson. While bobbing up and down I was thinking how nice it was of me to service his cock, to do this great sexual favor of an old man. I assumed it was a while since his last blowjob so I wanted to give him a good one. "Take of your clothes honey, let me eat your pussy," Mr. Johnson asked. Soon I was seated on the couch, my legs spread wide, while Mr Johnson was crouching between them to slobber all over my ass. His oral treatment of my rectum was a new experience for me. His tongue flicked between my crack and in my ass, making it slippery. Mr Johnson then replaced his soft tongue for one of his rugged fingers. It didn't feel nice at all, even a bit painful. Taking his hand in mine, I removed his finger from my ass and nodded at the silver daddy to make clear I didn't like it. "Just opening you up sweety" he explained, "but if you don't want it...." He didn't finish the sentence but placed his fucker against my pucker and pushed. "Mr Johnson!" I gasped, "we should't do this!" "Yes we do, yes we do. I want to fuck you, please let me fuck you," pleaded Mr Johnson. I wasn't complaining about getting shafted, but I didn't want to do it raw with someone who had AIDS! "You should use a condom" I warned, but Mr Johnson had his reply ready: "I haven't fucked in ages, I don't have condoms honey. This might be my last fuck, and I don't want it spoiled by rubbers. Please let me feel your warm hole, enjoy a hole the natural way, the way it's supposed to be enjoyed. You want to support me don't you?" All kinds of thoughts were racing trough my mind. Would I deny this man's last sexual request? Would denying him this pleasure mean I was a bad buddy? What would be the risk of contracting HIV with a one time raw buggering? Mr Johnson saw me think and he used the time to keep dicking me. His huge knob was teasing my sphincter, making it open a bit more every time it slid past. The wonderful feeling of his tool invading my bowels distracted me from thinking clear. Even tough it were only a few seconds since Mr Johnson gave his plea, it felt like minutes, it felt like I didn't have to answer anymore, my silence was consent. The cold metal of his cock ring touched my butt. "Thank you, son," Mr Johnson said, not expecting an answer anymore, "I appreciate this and I'm going to make it good for you too." He leaned towards my face again and kissed me, this time not with lust but with passion. I wrapped my arms around him and whispered "Fuck me, give me your last load." Mr Johnson gloated and started to pick up the pace. He had finally received permission to once again bareback a young hole. Mr Johnson was grunting as he was plowing my ass, holding my legs by the ankles to keep them apart. So many things were new for me this night: the kissing, the rimming, the age of my lover was almost three times as much as my normal sex partners, the position, the location (before this I only had sex in my bedroom). Suddenly Mr Johnson withdrew his fuck meat, leaving my hole gasping to be filled again. "Turn around" was the command and I obliged. With my ass in the air facing him, Mr Johnson spat a bit above my gaping rectum and used two fingers to rub it over my poop chute. He crammed his saliva coated fingers in my tender ass, I groaned. Like the first time he stuck a digit in me it hurt. I once again had to grasp his hand to push it away. My ass didn't feel as lubricated as after the intense rim job he gave me earlier and when I got penetrated again it just didn't feel as nice. "We need more lube" I said and the old man pulled some lube from the pocket of his robe. Guess he was better prepared than I thought. He squirted a copious amount of lubrication between my crack, which felt very cold but when his shaft forced it's way trough my rosebud my bowels were burning. My elderly fucker was really slamming my ass now, giving everything he got. I was really enjoying it even more when it got verbal. "I love fucking your ass son, I never thought I would that's why it's so special. You like me pounding you ass?" "Uh hu", I grunted. "You've been eyeing my bulge for so long now. I swear I sometimes saw you drool when you saw it. This is what you always wanted eh, my dirty shitstabber in your shitsocket. I'm going to cum soon, I'm going to give you some aidsbabies." "Don't say that" I snapped, "don't say those things" My mind already was screaming 'THIS MAN HAS AIDS! STOP NOW!' I didn't need him reminding me, almost humiliating me with the fact I let this sick man fuck me raw. "Cum on my back, I don't want you to cum inside me." "Too late honey, I'm cumming, I'm cumming." With one last thrust Mr. Johnson unloaded his lethal spooge in my healthy ass. He was panting after he bred me "That was great honey" he said while kissing my back, "Did you enjoy it too?" "Yeah I guess" I replied. "You don't know for sure?" Mr Johnson asked. I really didn't. While the fuck itself was wonderful, the toxic breeding he gave me wasn't. He finally withdrew from my ass and replaced it with something else. "What are you doing?" I asked. "I'm plugging your hole honey." was the answer I got, like it was the most normal thing to do. "With what?" "It's just a buttplug." "But why?" Up until that point I had never used a buttplug before, "please get it out." The old bastard must have planned this from the beginning, no way he just happened to have a buttplug in one of his pockets. "I want to use my cum for lube for our next fuck." "What are you talking about?" The old man replied "It's already late, I thought you could spent the night and have a quick fuck before we slept. I want to make it good for you too and since you wasn't satisfied by this one. Maybe the bedroom is a better place for making love." I'm not sure how he convinced me but I did spent the night with him. We did fuck before we slept and again he bred me. He wanted me to wear his butt plug for the entire night, but I objected. The next morning I wanted to leave early but Mr Johnson acted like a lovesick puppy, wanting to shower with me (which he did and at which time he ass fucked me again), wanting me to have breakfast with him (which I did while I had to sit on his cock), wanting me to stay with him for another day, having sex all the time. I was a bit taken back with his sudden change in attitude. I can't deny I really liked hanging out with him and maybe have some sort of feelings for him (otherwise I would've never let him fuck me), but I wasn't in love. Mr Johnson on the other hand really seemed to have butterflies in his stomach. I didn't know how to say to him I didn't have the same feelings for him, so I wanted to leave as soon as possible. Besides my ass was really sore of all the butt sex I received in the past hours. Around noon I finally went home, leaving Mr Johnson behind with the idea we were real lovers. I didn't have contact with Mr Johnson for some time. The sex had changed our relationship. For me it was just a one-off (well actually four-off) thing, but I didn't know if Mr Johnson thought the same. It surprised me that he didn't bother to contact me as well, especially considering his clingy behaviour the last time I saw him. When my ass developed a rash I went to a clinic. Of course they asked me if I had unsafe sex recently and with a tremble in my voice I said yes. The doctor advised me to take an HIV test. I called Mr Johnson to tell him about my visit to the clinic. He asked me if I blamed him. I said I didn't and that it was a conscious decision to sleep with him (even though I did ask him not to cum inside me). He never said he was sorry for my situation and after the phone call we never met again. Every time I asked if he wanted to meet he was busy or not feeling well. The man who once was looking for a buddy and who loved my companion didn't need me anymore. Being optimistic I thought he did feel guilty about my situation and didn't want to confront me. A few months later I got the terrible news I was positive. I was advised to notify my last sex partner. "My last sex partner had AIDS when we got together," I replied softly. The doctor was surprised to hear I slept with a man with AIDS, and, clearly confronted with an unusual situation, asked "Did you know he had AIDS, and if so, why did you engage in unprotected sex? There's no obligation to answer, of course, but I'd be interested to know if you've participated in some sort of underground sex group." The doctor also mentioned he met several other boys in the past few months who all contracted HIV from sleeping with a man with AIDS and wondered if it was connected. I explained I wasn't part of a group or a chaser and that the man who gifted me was a nice man. "Nice men don't give other men HIV" the doctor replied stoically. When I left the clinic I wondered if Mr Johnson had set me up, if he played some twisted game to give me this horrible disease. I got the answer a few days later when I stumbled upon an ad: "Elderly man with AIDS is looking for gay friendly buddy."

CHAPTER 1 My brother-in-law (Devon) is a dick plain and simple. I despise him for how he treats my sister; well, for that matter, how he treats everyone. His haughtiness is unbelievable. His sneering remarks are abundant to excess. But, he is whom my sister chose to marry. So bet it. Had he been my choice no doubt he would need dentures to eat; but, he isn’t and wasn’t my choice. One topic I will say in his favour: He was a stud of a man—a man’s man. Devon was packed in his clothes and wore them well. He stood 6 feet tall; weighed 160 pounds; worked out at a health club; had dark brown hair all over his arms, hands, legs, feet, and chest; had dark brown eyes; had a manly mound of a butt; and had an impressive bulge down his left thigh. His feet were big as were his hands. He had a super nice overall package, but a personality that ruined it all. When they announced my sister was pregnant, everyone was happy for her. It was obvious that he was only a sperm donor as far as my family was concerned. And, it was obvious. The pregnancy had its issues. My sister was ill all the time. That illness was what sent her to her physician immediately, thus, finding out very early about the pregnancy. My brother-in-law was going to have to go without sex for about eight months. Well, a good fuck buddy of mine called me up a couple of weeks later, and we made plans to go to our favourite adult book store. My buddy (Brad) had finally pozzed me about a year ago. He talked me into not going on meds. We spent all the time that we could at bath houses, sex parties, adult book stores, and cruising parks. Brad loved to watch me get fucked. He always added his load to my ass whenever we called it a night. We had arrived at ABS and had been there about 20 minutes when I looked up and saw my brother-in-law coming in the peeps section. I grabbed Brad and pulled him into a booth that had a glory hole. I quickly told him why I had dragged him in the booth and that I would have to stay there until Devon left. Just as I finished telling Brad, the door to the booth next to us opened and closed. We heard the lock engaged, tokens dropped, and the movies begin rolling through. Carefully, I peered through only to discover Devon. I thought I would have fun with Devon and began to finger the glory hole. I was quietly chuckling as I knew Devon didn’t know what my finger meant. Brad kept playfully slapping on me as he snickered. I was looking up at Brad when he stopped. His eyes widened and mouth gaped. He pointed toward the wall. I turned to see a hard cock hesitantly being pushed through the hole. I was stunned. I stared a few seconds before my senses returned. My mouth wrapped around Devon’s cut 9 thick inches as I swallowed down to the pubes. I went to work on my brother-in-law to see just what he had. Devon kept a steady in and out going. I could hear his balls hit the wall with a good “thud” on each in stroke. My jaws began to ache a bit but I held steady. As if Devon knew about my jaws, he began to pick up his pace. Very soon, he was fucking my mouth like a pro. Brad and I heard a deep rumble of a growl that grew until at last I felt Devon’s cock hit the back of my throat where it began to spew huge globs of his ball juice. The barrage lasted several minutes after which Devon slid his cock out of my mouth and stuffed it in his pants. Instead of leaving as I expected, a short time passed when a piece of paper appeared at the hole. I took it and stood up. Brad and I read the note. I was dumbstruck. Devon was offering me the opportunity to suck him again at his home. The bastard! He was going to have a man over to his house to suck him while my sister—his wife—was pregnant! No doubt he would have to get her out of the house long enough. The bastard! Brad grabbed the note and wrote a reply. Brad agreed for me but the meeting would take place at “my” apartment—I learned later meaning Brad’s apartment. Devon was to come alone on Friday night at 9:00 sharp. Devon agreed, and Brad provided his address and phone number to cancel if he needed to. After Devon left, Brad told me that Devon knew my apartment but did not know Brad’s. Devon would have me in Brad’s bed room in the dark and a hood on. Devon would never recognize me. Brad said we should see how long we could lure Devon astray. I looked at Brad in awe at his quick wittedness and began laughing. Friday arrived and everything went just as Brad had outlined. Brad explained that I had a fetish and liked to wear a hood. Brad also explained that he was a good friend of mine who was there for support. Devon was a bit leery but finally okay with that. I did a repeat of my role at the book store. Brad gave Devon an okay that he could stop by if he wanted my services again but to call first to be sure. After he left, Brad was sure Devon would become a regular. Indeed, he did, and at each meeting I never spoke a word. For almost two months, Devon stopped by 2 to 3 times a week to get his cock serviced by me. It was then that Brad wanted to up the ante. Then, when Devon arrived one night, Brad offered to rim Devon. Brad became somewhat arbitrary and told Devon that he could have his ass eaten or his visits would be over. Devon was very agitated demanding to know why the change. Brad explained he was a world class ass eater and liked practicing what he was so good at doing. Devon finally agreed but was pissed. Brad rimmed and ate Devon’s ass like a pro each visit for the next month and a half. It was obvious that Devon was enjoying his ass worked on with each visit. Moans were now being made as well as him stopping in mid-stroke to reach behind to pull his cheeks wider apart. Brad upped the game once more and began fingering Devon. More moans as well as his body shivering in erotic vibrations. Brad was pacing Devon’s downfall. By the fourth month of our little deception, Devon had grown to enjoy having his cock sucked at the same time as his ass being worked over. It was patently obvious that Devon was enjoying himself. Then, as Devon was dressing to leave, he stopped and asked if I would be willing to let him fuck me. Brad looked at me and told him that would be okay. I was very prepared the next time Devon showed up. I sucked his cock for several minutes edging him as Brad worked feverishly on Devon’s ass. It was clear that Devon was in a high state of arousal. Brad stood up and moved to our sides. He pulled me off Devon’s cock and had me to climb on the bed with my ass hanging over. All the while, Brad was slowly jacking Devon’s cock keeping him aroused. Brad also was telling Devon that fucking my ass was going to be like sliding into warm silk. Brad told Devon that he needed to concentrate on looking at my hole as it puckered and winked. He kept saying that was me showing how ready I was to be fucked. Brad had his mouth up to Devon’s ear and was whispering everything. Devon was hypnotized as Brad slowly and methodically moved Devon into position with his piss slit at my opening. Devon never mentioned needing a condom. I held my breath as Brad coaxed and urged Devon to move his cock closer to my hole. Brad gently pushed Devon closer until at last his piss slit touched my hole. Devon sighed deeply at the contact. Brad spoke faster about how warm the inside would feel once Devon slid his cock in my ass. Devon looked to be in a haze Brad told me later but finally grasped my legs and pushed gently then more firmly until the head of his cock popped inside my sphincter. I moaned in such erotic agony at watching the scene play out as well as feeling my brother-in-law entering my ass. Devon then shoved his bloated cock all the way inside my screaming ass and began to pound me. Brad stood by Devon and fed him words of encouragement telling him he was doing great and to fuck my ass harder. He talked about how hot my ass felt on his cock and how tight my ring was encircling his cock. More and more Brad kept up his salacious words of encouragement to Devon. I knew they were having an effect on Devon because by this time he was pounding my ass knocking me away from him. Brad told him to grab my legs and to pull me closer so that he, Devon, could fuck my ass harder and deeper. Devon did so, and by this time, he was drenched in sweat. His cock had swollen to an unbelievable size. Later I thought about that and realized that Devon was absolutely turned on to fucking another man. I would dwell on that thought many times. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Devon screamed thrusting inside me as he unleashed a torrent of cum. I saw through my eye slits in the mask that his eyes were wildly open, and he began having trouble breathing. He pumped a huge amount of cum in me. After many minutes, his grip on me lessened. Slowly, his spent cock slid out of my ass. Devon was shaking. He backed away from me and sank down onto the floor where he heaved trying to get his breathing under control. Brad gently helped Devon back onto his feet. He did up his clothing and left with a promise to return. He wanted to fuck again.

So for many years now I have been reading these stories. Truth be told they never fail with getting me to cum. I love the idea of a guy getting tweaked to the point that he just gives up all inhibitions and just takes all the cum and cock which is offered. Anywho I figure that I would tell my story of how I got pozzed. I had just started my first year of college I was 19 and I was still full of homrmones. Just so you know I am a bear about 5-6 190 brown hair green eyes and very vers. But one day I was cruising on adam4adam and I ran across this guy. He was mid 40s very built at 5-9 170 washboard abs and just made me weak in the knees. So after some chatting I ended up taking a bus to his house I knocked on the door and he let me in. We started talking and before I knew it he was offering me a shot of some really cheap liquor. It was super bitter and I remember that after I took it I just felt very relaxed. Next thing I knew he was offering me a bowl. This was also really good pot and had me high as hell. I remember that we started to shotgun back and forth. He then locked his lips with mone and we started to make out like nothing else. His lips were soft and just felt amazing against my own. He took my shirt off and asked me what all I was wanting to do. I said anything that felt right. He then looked at me as he ran his hand through the fir on my chest and then grabbed it and pulled tight and he then kissed me again as he started to kiss my ear and then whispered to me that he was going to change me that night. I don’t know why but I felt that the whole world just stopped and I knew that I would be a different person after that night. It felt right and it felt that it was my time. I wasn’t totally sure what was going on but I just felt every fiber in my being say yes. He then covered my mouth with a really cold wet rag and told me to inhale. I did and I felt the world start to spin and he was kissing me again as he started to grab for my belt. He un did the buckle and then looked at me and asked me to take his shirt off. The body which was before me was glorious. He was built and was just a flat out amazingly handsome man. I started to come out of the fog and I asked what that stuff was. He said poppers and then showed me how it came in a bottle and a can. He then opened the bottle and showed me hwo to hit it. I did and just wanted to feel him in me with this extreme desire to get fucked. He then stopped and asked me if I like x. I had never taken x before and told him that. So at this point I have to admit that I was definatly not in a right state of mind. We stopped and started soking some more pot and this time it was not the same kind of buzz that you usually get when you are slowly starting to get stoned. This time it was had a more intese tingly body buzz. The x was kicking in too and then he said to me that the pot has some T in it. I had never used T before but I was kind of liking it. The next thing I knew I was locked with his lips again and was removing my pants and felt his finger at my hole. I felt a burn in my ass and then I felt a unholy desire to be used. Next thing I knew my legs were up in the air with my ass spread open. I felt his mouth on my hole and his tounge probing into me. It felt so amazing to feel my hole being lapped at like that. I then felt another burn and then he licked my hole more this time my hole was grabbing at his tounge and pulling on it. He said to me that it felt hot with how my hole was pulling at his tounge. He then told me how he was shoving shards up meth up my ass. I thought it was an amazing experience so far. He then pulled away from me while my body was screaming to be fucked. He then looked into my eyes and told me that he was poz and that he wanted to make me like him. I freaked out for a moment, looked at him, and was shocked yet my body was betraying me. Now I have never been a chaser let alone a barebacker but at this point it suddenly felt that this was the right thing to do. I felt that I was meant to let this guy charge me up. And then at that point I looked back into his eyes and kissed him. He then asked me if I was sure and I said yes. At that point he told me to hold still and wrapped a tourniquet around my arm and then swabbed my arm sterile and the stuck me with a needle and said prepare. I remember that when he removed the tourniquet I felt this warm rush up my arm and into my chest. I felt that my heart was about to beat out of my chest and that I couldn’t breath. I coughed and then I felt something in me that I was not prepared for his 9 inch cock. I felt that I was having an anal orgasm as he pounded away at my ass. He looked at me and then gave me some more max. I started to scream to make me poz. About an hour later we were still ficking and then he looked at me and said that he had a high viral load and that he was about to cum. I said please seed me and knock me up.

If you let the top know how you'd like it, I'm sure he'll be happy to oblige. I've given it up the ass, directly in the mouth, and even from 2' away all over a guy as he wore a business suit. People have all sorts of likes and kinks, so no big deal to speak up and say what you want.

Cash. The most important part of the experience is the CASH*. Even if you're goal is to wreck a bitch or totally break him, you still gotta charge at least a dollar, or a 1/2 a pack of smokes. Nothing makes a banged-out boy cunt feel more like a CumDump/JizzBag/TownPump/WorthlessWhore than knowing he just got knocked up by a hobo for 50¢ in pennies. After your whore pays for the hotel room and party supplies out of his own pocket, you keep all the cash, 'cause it ain't easy being a Pimp. *There are blokes that get off on paying large bank for a tumble because of -fuck who knows? Self-worth, self-esteem issues, Fuck it, you're not his mommy, book those guys for very last, when your lad's hole is completely banged out and sloppy, ruined basically, then tell the bloke if he wants to smash his lil' twig up in that blubbery cunt it's gonna cost twice the previously agreed upon price, and to take the offer or fuck off. (They always take the offer)

Of course, it would be rude not to.

Most of the time, when top at a gloryhole, I am just sucked, which is what I am expecting. (And I ALWAYS cum in his mouth.) A handful of times, the guy makes a move to get fucked through the gloryhole. I will usually take him up on it, though there have been times when I was concerned about cleanliness and hygiene and declined. There was one time about a year ago when I actually got tricked. I was pumping away through the hole, enjoying his mouth, when I felt him pull off and give me a nice handjob. I didn't think anything of it, since a bottom's mouth might need a short rest. After a couple seconds, I felt a familiar warm feeling envelope my cock, and I thought he had resumed sucking. In fact, he and another bottom with him behind the gloryhole had maneuvered so that my cock slide into the second guy's hole almost seamlessly. The hole was very loose, lubed, and, I think, full of cum, so I actually didn't notice for several strokes. Once I did, I pumped furiously, and shot a load of semen up his already full hole within about 30 seconds. It was hot. I pulled out, let the first guy clean my wet cock, and we all three had a laugh.

Part 10 The cool air of the patio felt wonderful as it cooled off my sweaty body as I rolled on the X and G. The men who knew Master well knew why I had two 5 dollar bills in my mouth, and they just smiled and laughed. Master replaced the money with a lit joint, and I inhaled the sweet, sweet smoke. After a few hits, Master took back the joint as one of the men grabbed me and started kissing me, grinding his hairy chest into me and grabbing my ass cheeks. He unzipped the back of my shorts and pawed my bare ass while he tongued my mouth. I moaned as I sucked on his tongue. Another man came behind me as started sucking and biting my neck as he reached around and pinched my nipples. I groaned and shook as the men pleasured my body, my cock digging painfully into its cage, bringing more pain and pleasure to my drugged up state. Soon I was passed to another man who pushed me against the brick wall, grinding my back into it while he raped my mouth with his tongue. He pushed the plug into my ass which made my dick leak fluid. For the next hour I was passed between various men so they could kiss me, fondle me, and get me hornier and hornier. I was quietly begging each man to fuck me as they set fire to my body with their mouths and hands. I didn't even see their faces as I melted into each of them. Eventually, I felt Master tug my leash as he pulled me away toward the door. He led me through the bar and out the front, with a small group of his friends following us. I already knew what was up as we all walked back to Masters apartment. Once inside, I stripped as expected, and obediently sat on the floor in my spot by the couch. Looking up, I saw Master and 7 other men. They were all older, some I recognized having tried to pick me up before, but I had thought they weren't good enough for me. Now, I was about to be their piggy cumdump, and I had no choice in the matter. And I didn't care. As they stripped my cock pushed painfully into its cage, and my pussy twitched around the plug. Most were hairy, several had bellies. One guy was like a gorilla, covered in dense, black hair, and one guy looked like Santa, long white hair and beard, with a thick grey pelt covering his torso and round belly. These two made me drool the most. I couldn't wait to feel their fur grind into my skin as they fucked me. And I didn't have to wait long. I was quickly grabbed and somebody pulled out the plug, and instantly a hard cock was shoved in its place. I moaned as the fucker buried himself balls deep in my cumhole. A cock was shoved in my mouth, and poppers under my nose. I went wild as I became the best slut I could be for Master. I begged the men to fuck me, use me, degrade me. And they did. They spit on my face, in my mouth, slapped me, and called me every degrading name in the book. I had big cocks forced down my throat as my head was held tight, nose buried in pubes. I choked and gagged for air as my cunt was pounded hard. I was passed around and around, always pleading to be fucked more, and thanking each man when he dumped his load in my worthless whorehole. When the gorilla man fucked me, I wrapped my arms and legs around him as he ground his body into mine, kissing me deep and hard, taking temporary ownership of my two cumholes. I howled in ecstasy when he bred me, my own cock leaking tons of fluid. My pussy leaked cum as he pulled out, my hole remaining open, needing more cock. I sat on Santa's cock as he laid on the floor. Another man came behind me and slid his cock into me next to Santa's. It slid right in my loose gash, and I writhed and moaned as the two cocks scissored in and out of me while Santa tortured my nipples, causing me to pant like a bitch in heat. They fucked me like that for a long time before they both shot their cum deep into my guts. I collapsed my sweaty body on the hairy pelt beneath me, rubbing my nipples into the wirey hair. The party continued late into the night, until nobody had any more cum to unload into me. Master went into the bedroom and came back with a huge dildo and a glass. I didn't even need to be told what to do as I pushed all the cum from inside me into the glass. Then Master unlocked my cage, releasing my cock wich instantly sprang to a painful erection. Handing me the dildo, he told me, "I want you to fuck yourself boy. And not easy. When I say go, ram it up your cunt as hard as you can. Show these men what a true whore you are. Ram your hole as hard as you can!" With that, Master handed me the fat, 12 inch long rubber cock, while someone shoved poppers under my nose. I was made to take hit after hit, until I was dizzy. "Go!" Commanded Master. Without thinking, or hesitation, I rammed the dildo straight into my ass, moaning loudly as I buried it to the balls. I grabbed the base and pounded my hole as the men cheered me on. Master grabbed my jaw and opened my mouth, pouring the glass of cum from my ass all over my tongue. "Keep your mouth open pig!" He ordered me. "Don't swallow. Let the men enjoy what a dirty bitch you are." Master then grabbed my cock and stroked it while I fucked myself. "Don't cum boy! Don't cum until I tell you too." But it was pointless. I was so fucking horny, not having cum in a week, I couldn't controll my orgasm. After a few strokes I rammed the dildo in as far as I could and ground it against my prostate as ropes of cum spurted from my cock, the first shot landing in my open mouth. I shook and yelled as I blew my nut, my balls aching from finally being released. Soon I was coated in a huge load that Master scooped up and added to the rest in my mouth. The party being over, the men left, and Master and I were alone in bed. His cock was rock hard, as he was the only man not to fuck me tonight. He pulled me onto his cock, and I sat down with a sigh. He then produced some nipple clamps with sharp teeth that dug into my flesh. I hissed as he tightened them, causing my pussy to squeeze his cock. "You failed me tonight slut. You came without permission. That will be a rather sever punishment tomorrow. You will learn that I, as your owner, control when you cum." I hung my head in shame as he said this. "Now, I want you to tell me what a dirty, depraved, pig you are while I jack your cock. You will cum again, but only when I say." I did as he said, telling him all the nasty things he wanted to hear, while he stroked me and pulled on the clamps. I went crazy as he edged me over and over. Finally, he said it. "Cum slut! Cum for your Master!" I shot another large load all over Masters chest as he milked my cock. My spasming ass triggered his own ejaculation as he filled my cumhole one last time for the night. After I licked his chest clean, we snuggled together and drifted off as I contemplated my punishment.

CHAPTER 4 “What did you stop for? Keep going! Don’t stop now,” came the begging cries from Devon. “Please, don’t stop fucking me! Fuck me. Come on, man, FUCK ME!” Brad turned and winked at me. He resumed fucking Devon driving into him as a drive shaft on a train turning the wheels as fast as possible. Devon continued to moan louder. Then, Devon raised up on his hands giving a deep guttural growl and began back slamming onto Brad’s cock. It was amazing to watch the two of them in tandem. Each had a determination but for a different cause. “FUUUUUUUCCCCCK!” Brad bellowed as he unleashed his more potent poisonous swimmers into Devon’s ass. Brad drove his cock deep into Devon’s ass holding it there until there was nothing left. Devon sank down onto the bed as Brad slowly withdrew his bloody and slime-covered cock from Devon’s wrecked ass. Brad sank down to the floor to steady himself. Devon slowly got off the bed. He looked around. He got his clothes together and got dressed. He walked slowly to the bedroom door and stopped. He stood there conflicted and his face averted. Finally he quietly asked, “Would . . . would it be okay if I came back tomorrow night?” Brad said, “Sure.” Devon left. For almost five months, Devon came back to Brad’s apartment two to three times a week to get fucked by both of us and sometimes to fuck me. Brad and I filled him as much as we could with our poison juices. On one special occasion, we each fucked two loads of our poison in Devon. He was becoming a veritable cum whore. Devon showed up one night a couple of months later and said he wasn’t feeling well and wasn’t sure he should be there. Brad insisted that he stay and began undressing Devon who offered no protest. We both fucked our loads in his ass. After Brad was finished, he told Devon he wanted to finger him for old time’s sake and Devon consented. Brad used his nails on Devon who winced and jerked but by this time never made a sound of protest. Brad showed me his bloody fingers. I sucked them clean. We sent Devon packing and celebrated by Brad fucking my brains out twice. Brad was as eager to pump his poison into me in celebration as I was eager to get a fresh load of his poison nectar. Three days later Devon called and told us that there was no way he could make it. He was much too sick. He said he had the flu but couldn’t understand how that could be. Brad told Devon to call back in ten minutes. Devon agreed. I called my parents and told them to call my sister. I knew if my sister told them Devon was ill they would get her out of the house and take her to stay with them. That was what happened. When Devon called back, he told us he was alone and sick. His wife had gone to stay with her parents while he was ill. Brad told Devon to give his address and we would come over to help him. He hesitated but finally relented. Devon answered the door. He looked terrible. I didn’t care what the neighbours thought if they saw me entering in a black leather hood and Devon never mentioned it. Inside, we went to the master bedroom where Devon fell back into bed. Brad wasted no time and stripped as did I. We both stripped Devon and got him on the bed. He kept protesting but he never really tried to stop us. And, for the next three days Brad and I kept fucking and filling Devon with our poisonous loads. On the third day, Brad and I told Devon that he was getting better and that we were leaving. Devon was a bit disappointed. He walked us to the door opening it courteously. Brad said his good-bye and walked out. I turned to look directly at Devon and removed my hood. Devon’s eyes popped out as he took a couple of steps backwards and gasped. “For all the evil vicious things you have ever done to my sister, you have now been re-paid in kind. You need to go see your doctor and have an HIV test run because I’m pretty sure you are now HIV positive. Brad and I have seen to that. And, when you ask my sister for a divorce, she gets everything, and I mean everything. If she doesn’t, your HIV status will be all over this town,” I quietly said. I smiled, did a little bow, turned, and walked out the door never looking back. Months after my nephew was born Devon asked for the divorce. My sister got everything. I kept my mouth closed. And, Brad and I would run into Devon at our favourite adult book store from time to time. There were no hard feelings now . . . on my part. I enjoyed watching my former brother-in-law turn his ass around for any man to fuck. From an arrogant prick, I’ve watched him become a repository for cum and from what I’ve seen and heard especially HIV cum.

CHAPTER 3 Devon felt the deep hunger of needing sex and to shoot his cum load. His hormones were running rampant causing all kinds of wild ideas to flash through his mind. His brain then focused on how his ass felt when he was being rimmed and fingered. He could not get that idea out of his mind. He shuddered. “Well, no one is to know what happened. I mean no one. I’ll know who told if I ever hear anything about this, and I’ll deny it totally.” With those words, Brad was now ready to set in motion a new path for Devon. This would be the path that would be his undoing. This would be the path that would tear his world apart and shatter it into a trillion pieces. This would be the path where I got revenge for my sister’s ill treatment. I almost screamed with glee at what I knew was going to happen now. I owed Brad big time and would pay him whatever he wanted. Brad slowly rose up. “Okay. Let’s get you in a comfortable position. You kneel on the bed hanging your feet over the side. Bend forward all the way so that you lay on the bed. That’s it; tuck your hands under your face for comfort. Now, I’m going to put a lot of lube in your ass and around the outside so that it will be easier on you. It’s just lube. It makes things slide smoothly.” Brad told me to insert slowly my lubed fingers in Devon’s ass and open it a little. With some difficulty because of Devon’s tight ass, I did as instructed. Brad then began pouring lube inside Devon after which he had me to remove my fingers and used his own to spread the lube about. “Now, how does that feel? That’s even better isn’t it?” Brad asked. Devon moaned and agreed it felt even better than when he was being fingered earlier by Brad. Brad made sure to once again knock at Devon’s prostate. That elicited a couple of gasps each time. “Now, you’ve seen the cock on James (Brad had to name me something.). It’s small enough for you to take easily. I’ll monitor everything so that you can feel how super it feels. James’ cock is a mere 7 inches so he won’t go anywhere near as deep as your cock does,” Brad announced. “Besides, all we’re doing is letting you feel how a cock in an ass feels. Nothing more.” Devon shook his head in assent. I was heady with glee as I stepped up behind Devon. Brad guided my cut 6 ½ inches to Devon’s wrinkled and tightly closed virgin opening. Brad gave me the signal to go very slow which I did. There was a tremendous resistance and Devon began growling in pain. Just as I was sure this was not going to work, the head of my cock popped through Devon’s sphincter with a loud POP. Devon jerked his head upright and yelped. Brad hurried to Devon’s side consoling him and telling him it would be okay. Brad kept his arm around Devon to prevent him from actually pulling off my cock. It was also a subliminal signal to Devon that Brad was his friend and there to help him. The pain was just an initial shock and would pass. By the time Brad finished talking to Devon, the pain had begun to fade. Brad motioned for me to begin sliding inside Devon. Brad had me to slide slowly inside for a few seconds, stop, slide backwards, stop, then, repeat the process until at last I was fully inserted inside Devon. My balls were both rolling around with excitement. I was very close to cumming. Brad orchestrated the entire process until soon enough I was fucking Devon, and he was not protesting. My mind raged at the thought of when my balls would empty their contaminated content into this bastard’s ass. I knew what I wanted to do but held myself back to make sure that Devon did not panic. As I continued to fuck Devon, Brad now began to touch Devon with caresses. Brad’s hands were all over Devon: his ears, his cheeks, his back, his sides. I saw the touches that Brad did to Devon. They were such gentle caresses that he made which no doubt soothed Devon’s nerves. Brad moved closer to Devon and began talking to him telling him how great he was doing. He asked him how he was feeling and was there any pain now. He asked if a cock in his ass felt better than fingers and a tongue. Devon moaned his feeling of contentment. He agreed that, yes, a cock felt a lot better in his ass. Devon’s voice held a tremor in it as he spoke. Brad indicated for me to up my fucking. Devon moaned long and loud as I increased my tempo. Several minutes passed as I fucked Devon. I was now really about to shoot my cum load. Brad then asked Devon if he wanted to feel what it felt like when Devon had fucked me. “You do want to know what James feels don’t you? You are curious about that now that you know what it feels like having a cock in your ass. You know you want to feel James cumming in your ass don’t you? Don’t you, Devon? You want James to pump his cum load deep in your ass. Say it, Devon. Say it!” “Yes, I want to feel James pumping his cum load deep in my ass. Please, please, please, James pump your cum load in my ass!” Devon half shouted as he shook his head. I shoved my cock as far inside Devon as I could and blasted out everything that I had in me. I filled Devon with millions and millions of my poisonous wriggling half-babies. I yelled. Devon yelled and began to gasp for air as his head swung up off the bed once more as the last of my sperm drained into Devon’s ass. I was thinking of how this bastard had so mistreated my sister. I so wanted to poz him. Brad waited until I began slowly pulling out and began again on Devon. “You liked that didn’t you? In fact, you liked that a whole lot more than my tongue and fingers, didn’t you? You liked James fucking you and fucking you until he shot his cum inside you deep. You liked that a lot, didn’t you? You want MORE cum in your ass, don’t you? You want a LOT more cum in your ass. You want my cum in there, too, don’t you? Don’t you? Don’t you?” Over and over and over Brad went after Devon until at last Devon screamed, “YES. I WANT TO BE FUCKED BY YOU AND FILLED WITH YOUR CUM, TOO!” Brad wasted no time. He jumped up from the bed pushing me out of the way. He lined up his uncut 9 ½ inches at Devon’s hole, grabbed Devon’s hips, winked at me, and plunged full length into Devon’s ass. There was such a blood curdling howl that came from Devon. He tried to pull away but Brad knew what to do and kept his cock in Devon and Devon on the bed in front of Brad. Brad began fucking Devon immediately and soon the pain ebbed to nothing. Devon once more began rolling his head and moaning his contented feeling. Brad pounded Devon’s ass viciously. I do not recall ever seeing Brad this over the top. And, then, Brad stopped. He just stopped. He said nothing. He did nothing. Minutes passed. I had no clue what he was waiting for. And, then, Devon spoke up.

CHAPTER 2 Once he had gone, Brad told me that almost the entire time that Devon was fucking me he had gotten two of his fingers in Devon’s ass and had finger fucked him. He grinned evilly and told me that just at the right time his fingernails had been used on Devon. No doubt he liked the feeling Brad said. We looked at each other and knew we were on our way. Just as he had said, Devon showed up on Wednesday and on Friday nights. He fucked me like a madman as Brad tore up Devon’s ass with his fingernails. It was so delightful knowing that soon he was going to get his comeuppance. I was so looking forward to that. It would be a tricky thing though. Then, on Tuesday night, Devon showed up as agreed to but things had to be postponed. Brad explained that at the last minute I couldn’t make it. Brad explained he was apartment sitting for me as I had to go out of town. Brad was so sincere sounding as he told Devon that it was such a shame and that he could understand at being frustrated. Devon tried to get Brad to bottom for him but Brad explained that he didn’t get fucked; he just liked to eat ass and fuck ass also. Devon left very frustrated sounding. For the next two weeks, Brad kept Devon at bay. He was so sympathetic to Devon and his plight. Each time that Devon arrived, he left with a bit more angst, edginess, and frustration. Brad cooed his sympathy to Devon. Brad was as good as any funeral director. He commiserated with Devon about my lack of commitment to taking care of Devon. I heard it all from Brad’s closet as the two berated my lack of seriousness. Devon left again no doubt with the bluest of balls. Brad and I rejoiced at how things were going. Devon’s nerves were on total edge. He would be back next Friday ready to explode. Brad was going to make sure that Devon was fully packed with TNT because he was going to get a big bang on Friday. Friday at nine sharp, Devon knocked on the front door. Brad let him in and excitedly told Devon that I was back in town and ready in the bedroom. Devon I heard rushing down the hallway. He stopped in the doorway looking crazed. He did something then that he had never done before: He stripped totally tossing his clothes in all directions. His cock was hard and dripping I could see. He strode over to me on the bed and yanked my legs upward putting them on his shoulders. Devon took his hands and pulled my cheeks open lining his piss slit up to my hole. He released his hands as he leaned over me grabbing my shoulders. I looked at his face which had a crazed look on it. Truly, Devon was in need of sexual release. I had but a split moment to consider if I was going to be able to deal with his heightened sexual arousal. I was determined to give it my best. I felt a searing pain as Devon’s dripping cut 9 inches of monster manhood crammed itself inside my body. I screamed at the sharpness. Devon gave no hint that he had heard me but drove his baby maker stick deep inside me and began to fuck me wildly. Brad stepped up to Devon’s side as usual and began a narrative of encouragements about how good it was to get back in my ass, how hot it was, hadn’t Devon missed fucking, feel how my sphincter was tight around his cock begging Devon to fuck harder and deeper. Devon I could tell was ramping up his game from Brad’s encouraging words. Then, Brad grabbed Devon by both shoulders and twisted his body around hard so that Devon’s cock pulled out of my ass in mid stroke. Devon was beside himself. “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT FOR?” he screamed as his body shook. “I thought you’d want me to eat your ass and maybe finger your hole as I usually do,” Brad said innocently. “ARE YOU CRAZY? ARE YOU NUTS?” Devon screamed as his shaking continued. “You always seemed to enjoy me doing that to you. I just thought that might be something you’d enjoy tonight as well. I really wanted to make up to you in my own small way for him being gone,” Brad said dejectedly. “I really only wanted to help you out being you’re so tense and backed up.” Brad poured it on thick, and Devon bought it. “Yeah. Yeah. I did enjoy you eating my ass. That turned me on and so did your fingering me. Man, I’ve thought about that a lot. I didn’t like it at first but you somehow knew what to do and made it feel good,” Devon said having calmed down a bit but still highly strung from lack of sexual release. He was still highly aroused I could tell also from the pre-cum dripping out of his turgid cock. “Well, then, why don’t you stand there by the bed, but lean over it. You can put your hands flat or do elbows or whatever is comfortable for you. I’ll eat your ass and finger you some since you enjoy that, too,” Brad suggested offhandedly. “When you have had enough, you can go back to fucking him.” Brad pointed to me with the last statement. “You should be plenty aroused by then I’m betting.” “Yeah. Okay,” Devon said as he repositioned himself. He tried first doing flat handed on the bed but wasn’t comfortable with that. He then put himself on elbows and waited. Brad knelt behind Devon spreading his cheeks and began feasting. Brad was, no, is a consummate ass eater. I know from experience how well he eats an ass. It was not long before Devon was twisting his head about and moaning. Brad worked all over Devon’s ass with his tongue as well as doing small nips with his teeth. The first time that Brad nipped Devon there was a startled “Oh” but he returned to moaning and never made another protest. Brad drove his tongue deeply into Devon’s hole. Brad’s tongue can be a very rigid tool. I knew what Brad was doing and began biding my time before the big bang would occur. After 20 minutes or so, Brad pulled his mouth off Devon’s hole and slowly inserted two wet fingers. Devon hissed an intake of air but said nothing. Brad massaged deeper and deeper and began twisting and turning his fingers. Periodically, Brad would massage Devon’s prostate just to keep him reminded of what he was to feel later. I watched intently as Brad continued to work over Devon’s hole. I noticed that Devon was relaxed and fully enjoying the sensational ass work that Brad was doing. And, then, it happened. “Man, that feels so good. Your eating my ass was phenomenal and what you’re doing now is even better,” Devon said somewhat dreamily. “Keep it up. Man, that is so good.” Brad looked up at me and grinned as his eyes sparkled. He had Devon now on the hook. He had to make that jerk to be sure he was fully caught and then reel him in. Brad began alternating between rimming Devon and chewing on his cheeks and fingering him. He picked up a little speed with every intent of driving Devon crazy and wanting more. In a few minutes, Devon asked, “Is this what it feels like to be fucked? Man, this is really feeling good to me.” Brad slowed his fingering and said, “No, this isn’t really what it feels like to be fucked but it is very similar. The difference is that a cock is bigger and goes deeper. The euphoria that you feel is the same though only much, much more. It is an unbelievable wonderful feeling having a cock in your ass. You get such an intimate feeling with your body. It’s as if you learn who you really are.” Brad went back to eating Devon’s ass and fingering him. He picked up his speed and gave Devon his best ever work. Devon now was almost in a constant moan as he pushed backwards onto Brad’s tongue or fingers. Brad continued until Devon was almost demanding in his backward thrusts. Brad stopped and said, “I don’t want be rude and don’t mean to insult you. Would you want to know what it feels like to have a cock in your ass? I mean, you are really getting into my rimming you and fingering your ass. You really are enjoying it. I’m not talking about fucking you. I’m just talking about . . . a . . . cock . . . gently . . . easing into your ass very slowly and letting you feel in reality what it’s like.” Brad said nothing more and waited for his measured offer. Devon stayed bent over pondering the offer. He relished the sensation that he was feeling from being rimmed and fingered all so well. His intense sexual urges now were raging in him. His libido drove his decision. “I . . . I . . . I’ve not done anything queer like that,” Devon said loudly to protest such a possibility. Devon’s verbal protest was noted by Brad, but Devon’s body position also was noted. “Oh, no, I never meant to imply that you had done such. It was only that you seemed to enjoy my rimming and fingering you. And, you did ask how it felt to be fucked. No, I just meant that for the purpose of feeling the difference between my tongue and fingers and a cock a comparison could be made. No, I would never suggest that you would engage in things queers do,” Brad said and almost burst out laughing at the absurdity.

Spent last week at a hotel. one night before dinner i jumped on Grindr to see if anyone was looking. Saw a guy on 200 ft away. He was on the floor below me. no pics though. Profile said he was a thick dicked top and looking to get sucked or more. Pretty sure he was married or closeted. I hit him up and after a few messages he gave me his room number. He asked if i wanted to fuck and i said lets see what happens. i don't usually hook up without a pic or two but went for it anyway. his door was ajar when i got there. dark room but I could see him when i entered. he was tall with average looks and manly. I got busy and pulled out his cock. Wow, very thick. got on my knees and worked it and sucked him til he was very hard. then i pulled my sweats down. kneeled up on the bed and presented my ass to him. i saw condoms on the night stand but he didn't offer them to me. instead he grabbed my hips and just started rubbing his stiff cock on my hole. poking it. i brought lube and poppers so i quickly reached under and back and slicked up his cock from behind and pushed my ass back on his dick. he slowly pushed in to let me adjust to his thick cock. took a hit of poppers, arched my back good and he slid all the way in to his balls. i held him there until i was ready and then he started to fuck my hole good. Heaven. Love thick dicked men. about 5 to 8 minutes later he said he was going to cum and i told him to just cum in my ass. Beautiful throbbing dick as he blew his load in my ass. I asked him not to pull out and keep his still hard cock in me for a couple more minutes. then he pulled out. i pulled up my sweats and thanked him, kissed him and left. So hot. Went to dinner with his cum in my hole.

As soon as I finish this side story, I'll be going back to the other story. Glad everyone is enjoying the story so far. --- Part 3- Without realizing it, I held my breath, waiting for Garrett’s massive cock to enter my hole. “Damn boy, even with stretching this tight boy pussy, it doesn’t want to give,” he said, pulling out the brown bottle from before from piled up towel. Opening it, he took a couple deep sniffs before handing it to me. “Here, sniff these.” Instantly, I knew them to be poppers. Countless porn videos and online stores had taught me about them. I took several deep hits. Moments later, I felt a warmth spread throughout my body. I let out a deep sigh and handed the bottle back to Garrett, and watch as he closed it back up, tossing it beside me before stepping back up to my hole. My heart began to race as I felt the head of his massive cock press against my hole. Pulling out the cigar from his mouth for a moment, he hocked up a large gob of spit and began to rub it around on my hole with the head of his dick. He began to press harder and harder again. I was worried that I would never be able to take his cock when finally my hole relaxed and his thick meat slid deep inside me. I about screamed out at the intrusion and stretching of my ass muscles when Garrett pulled me close and began to tongue-fuck my mouth, distracting me as he slid the rest of the way in. It seemed like it took forever, but finally, I felt his large bull balls bounce against my ass as his dense forest of pubes began to rub against my ass cheeks. “Fuck yeah boy, deep in you now. Doin’ ok?” he asked, pulling away and ending our kiss. “Oh god… yes!” was my only reply. I had loved the feeling of his tongue and fingers probing my ass, but with his huge dick inside me, I felt a deep feeling of lust spreading out from deep inside me. Even with the pain and uncomfortable stretching of my asshole, and the deep ache of his thick member rearranging my guts, I knew I would never want to be without Garrett’s thick cock up my hole. Until he began to start fucking me. Slowly, he began to pull out until only his massive cock head was left inside me, pressing slightly against my prostate, only to be shoved back in again, stroking the swollen gland inside me. We both began to grunt as Garrett began to pick up his pace. I began to adjust to the new sensations of being fucked and filled my ass opening up under the steady assault and its lips clinging to his shaft as he pulled back out again. I moaned loudly as he increased his pace more, slamming me harder. I let out a whimper in appreciation. Suddenly I felt a weird sensation in my ass and Garrett suddenly stopped thrusting into me. “SHIT!” he growled out loud, as he slowly began to pull out of me. Confused, I looked at him, trying to figure out why he stopped. “Condom broke dude,” he said, starting to work his cock head out of my hole. “Don’t!” I almost yelled, wanting him to continue to fuck and stretch my ass out. I didn't want the fun to stop now, just when I was getting into the hard fucking he was giving me. “Gotta dude,” he said, pointing to one of the tattoos on his chest, “Don’t think you're ready to take a load like mine.” “What do you mean?” I said, still confused, looking at the large scorpion on his peck. “HIV positive, bud,” he said, now out of my hole. I felt empty. I didn’t want to stop. His cock felt amazing. And in my sex-filled haze, I made up my mind. “Fuck… Don’t care. Give it to me man! Fill my ass up with your cum!” I gasped out, my voice expressing my need. I had read about guys getting intentionally pozzed online, but even in my curiosity, had never understood why they would do it until now. I needed this hulk of a man’s load inside me. Now. “Shit, boy!” Garrett said, pulling off the tattered remains of the condom from his dick, “You sure? I'm fucking toxic. And like I said before, once I get back in you, I’m not pulling out.” “Please cum in my hole sir,” I said, lifting my ass even higher in anticipation. Shoving my ass down, Garrett took a deep draw on his half-smoked cigar. “Turn around, cumslut,” he said rubbing his cock before stepping back up to the bed, “I want to make sure to plant this load nice and deep up your neg cunt so it takes.” Getting on my hands and knees, I let out a loud groan as Garrett slammed deep into my hole. He continued to rape my ass, blowing his smoke at the back of my head, enveloping me in a haze of thick cigar smoke. Not even an hour ago the most I had done with a guy was a shy kiss in the 6th grade, and now I was riding a massive poz daddy dick and loving every second. “That’s right, slam back on my diseased prick,” he said, grabbing both of my hips, helping me slam even harder back into his strokes. Both of us continued to fuck hard, my hole taking the abuse with gusto. Grabbing my chin, we started to kiss again. Sweat dripped off of both of us, and I began to notice the musky scent of Garrett. It was a smell that only a true man could make, and it made my 18-year old brain swim. “I’m gonna cum in you boy,” Garrett groaned, pulling away from me again and going back to slamming my hole. “Don’t stop,” I moan, “Please. Please don’t stop.” “Last chance boy,” he said, his thrusts becoming irregular, “You sure you want to take my poz load?” “Give it to me!” I yelled in reply. “You got it, baby,” he said in reply, and even though I didn’t think it possible, bucked even harder, grabbing my shoulders with both hands. Sweat dripped from his head and chest as we fucked. In my hole, there was no longer any pain, having now opened completed and taking his cock like a proper bottom boyhood should. “Fuck, knew you were gonna have a sexy fucking hole the second I saw you walk into that locker room,” Garrett said as he continued to pound my ass relentlessly, “But the fact it was a cherry hole made things even better. And now I get to take your poz cherry as well. You ready boy? Ready to take the load that will change your life forever?” “Oh shhhh-it, infect my hole. Fuck that dirty load deep into me! Poz me!” “You're getting it fucker,” and with that Garrett slammed deep into me one last time and shot ropes of cum inside me. I felt every shot of hot liquid into my hole and I was instantly filled with an entirely new sort of warmth. It suddenly became too much for me, and despite not touching myself during the entire ordeal, I began to shoot what felt like my largest load ever. After a long time, Garrett’s cock finally softened and he let it slip from my now loose and dripping ass. I felt a swift slap on my ass, and instinctively my hole tightened up slightly. “How was that, boy?” he asked while puffing contently on the nearly spent cigar. “Holy shit…” I said, rolling on to my back and letting my head fall back, “That was so amazing. I’ve never shot a load like that before!” Crawling on to the bed next to me, he leaned down and kissed me, blowing his smoke into my face again. "How are you feeling about taking my toxic load?" Looking down, he stared down and my quickly re-hardening cock. The talk of his poz cum swimming around inside me was exciting me. “Damn, fucker,” he said, reaching down and grasping my dick at the base, “I guess you want more. I would have thought after a hard fucking like that for your first time you would be down for the count.” Biting my lower lip, I smiled and blushed slightly. “Actually, I’m even hornier than I was when we started.” “Well, shit,” he said, surprise in his voice, “Since you seem up to taking any load up your ass, you want me to find a few more guys to fill you up?” I hesitated for only a moment when pondering his offer, but then I felt a small glob of his thick bug-filled cum make its way out of my gaping cunt, and my mind was made up. “Yes, please.” “Well bitch, since you were such a polite piggy about it, let’s go find something to really break in that new hole of yours.”

Here's the next update. I know it was annoying to be given a full chapter of filler material, but trust me when I say it gives some information that is important to my other story (let's see who figures it out). Also, its fun leaving a chapter update on a cliff-hanger. Enjoy the next update. -- My First Times- Part 2 “Right there is the maze. Not that many guys use it, but it can be pretty hot,” Garrett said, pointing down a dim hallway that ended in a turn, “And that’s the theater. Guys in there tend to just get sucked unless a really hot movie is playing, then its a fuckfest.” As we walked around, I felt Garrett continue to play with my ass, much to my enjoyment. At first, the cigar he was smoking was a bit irritating to my senses, making my eyes water slightly as the thick, musky smoke swirled around us, making me cough slightly. However, as I got used to it, I became somewhat aroused, watching the sex god giving me the tour enjoy the smoke. “Over here is the sling room. Might work your way up to that since you're a newbie to all this,” he continued, eyeing me slightly as I continued to check out his perfect body. The tour continued with a quick show of the gloryholes, then to the steam room and pool, and finally to a dark room near a flight of stairs. Upstairs were the private rooms. “And this is the dark room. Anything goes in there. I would warn you to stay clear of there unless you want to get fucked non-stop by anyone with a hard prick. Can’t see them coming st you usually,” he continued, with a laugh, smile, and shake of his head. I slowly nodded, my mind racing with all the sites and sounds bombarding me. “So, bud, what brings you here tonight?” he asked pulling the cigar from his mouth and resting his hand on my shoulder as he began to play with my nipples. Looking down, I saw his massive piece of uncut cock was sticking in front of him. Not only a shower but a grower as the cock had to have gained another inch of girth and 2 inches in length. “You can play with it if you want, boy,” he said, flexing his abs and causing the monster to jerk forward, “It won’t bite… too much.” Tentatively, I reached out and grabbed it. Warm and thick, I could feel his pulse throbbing. Reaching back to his face he stuck the cigar back in his mouth and began to rub his hands along the front and sides of my smaller body. “Fuck that feels good,” I sighed, as I slowly hardened with his hands feeling me up. Slowly, I began to stroke him. “And that does too, baby,” he said around the cigar with a growl, “I can think of a few more things that would be even better.” I knew instantly what he meant. Only 20 mins being here and I might actually get my wish and be fucked by a hot muscle top. My mind raced. Should I do this? Is this really what I want? Wouldn’t it be better if I took my time and dated the right guy for my first time? I received my answer when I felt the first finger begin to probe my hole. “Fuck!” I gasped, enjoying the rough feeling of his finger diving slowly into my tight hole, “Yes!” With a big grin and a nod, he pulled his finger out and led me upstairs. I followed him as he climbed the stairs, my attention switching my the sudden change in sound and atmosphere from the stead soft thump of a club music to one of sounds of muffled moans of guys getting fucked. My ass instinctively clenched at the thought of my own virgin hole being stretched and filled as I followed Garrett down the long hall, a thick cloud of cigar smoke trailing behind him. Grabbing his key, Garrett opened one of the doors and we both stepped in. I followed behind him and quickly he gently pushed me back onto the bed. I let out a gasp as I fell back and bounced slightly on the mattress. I laid in a momentary daze as he lifted up my towel, and in one quick motion swallowed my 6in dick deep into his throat. “HOLY SHIT!” I blurted out as his throat muscles massaged my cock, the suction making me instantly want to lift up off the bed. It felt amazing, feeling him sucking my deep, his fingers wrapping around my balls and massaging them. I laid back and enjoyed to skilled top suck me for several minutes when he suddenly pulled off, my building orgasm going away from the sudden cold air hitting my wet, throbbing member. I lifted my head up and went to ask why he stopped when I saw him take a deep draw on his cigar. Blowing the smoke back in my face, he began rubbing my hole with his thumb. “Gotta stretch and lube you up,” he said, before spitting on my hole and shoving the thumb in, “Mind if I rim you and you hold my gar?” “Uh, well….” I said, pleasantly shocked. I had read about getting rimmed, but I never imagined would actually get to be rimmed. “I haven’t ever been rimmed before. I’m open to trying it though…” I said, grabbing the cigar from him tentatively. “Mind keeping it lit for me?” Garrett asked, spitting a second time on my hole and quickly adding a second thumb. I let out a slight moan as I felt the two large digits pull open my hole slightly further. Unable to form words at the moment I only nodded and laid back, bending my knees up and spreading them open, giving him more access. Looking at the cigar in my hand, I watched some of the smoke drift out of both ends before finally sticking it in my mouth. Cautiously, I stuck it in my mouth and started to puff on it. It tasted a lot different than what I expected, and nothing like how it smelled. Peppery, with a bit of a chocolate taste, and almost a cut grass. Aiming to keep the top now at my hole happy, I continued to smoke it as I felt him slowly massage my opening. I inhaled sharply when his fingers pulled out and I felt his hot, wet tongue start to lap at my cunt. The sensation felt AMAZING! I drew harder on the cigar in my mouth as he lifted his head up. “Fucking tasty hole boy!” Garret said, before diving back in. For several minutes I laid back, enjoying the rim job I was getting, Garrett’s tongue stabbing at my tight anus. After a few minutes, I felt my ass slowly open up under the constant assault of his tongue and fingers. Standing up over me, he pulled the cigar out of my mouth. “Damn bud,” he said, taking a deep inhale, “You’ve got the ass of a fucking virgin!” Looking down I blushed, I looked down, embarrassed. “Wait…” he said, noticing how uncomfortable I was becoming. “You’ve never been fucked before?” “N-no… sorry…” I said, pulling the towel that had came untied from my waist back around me. I waited for him to start laughing at me, or worse, to be kicked out of his room. However, he instead ran his spit-slicked thumb along the side of my face before lifting my chin upwards. “Why are you sorry?” he said exhaling another cloud of smoke in my face, “It’s fucking hot I get to be the one to bust your cherry!” With a smile, he moved his thumb to my bottom lip, urging it open. “Get my dick hard with your mouth babe, I want to mount that tight virgin hole and claim it.” I scooted over to the edge of the bed and sat up, bring my face perfectly level with his semi-hard monster. I slowly licked the head, surprised at how warm the PA at the tip of his cock was. Suddenly, he placed his hand on the back of my head, and my mouth enveloped his growing member. Slowly I began to suck, running my tongue along the bottom of his cock as I pulled back. “Fuck yeah, you’re a natural,” Garrett replied, his hand running through my hair tenderly. For the next few minutes, we continued, before he finally spoke. “That's it boy, suck on that nice piece of meat. Get it nice and wet for what’s coming!” Urged on by the hot, muscled man standing above me, I forced his cock deeper into my mouth, enjoying the feeling and taste of his dripping, uncut cock sliding around on my tongue, my own cock throbbing in anticipation. I moan as I felt him place his hand on the back of my head, urging me even deeper down on his cock. Forcing myself not to gag from its massive size, I let him slowly rape my mouth as he let out a content sigh. Finally, he pulled out and let me catch my breath. “Fuck! I need in that hole!” he growled, grabbing one of the condoms from next to me before letting out a frustrated sigh. I looked up at him, wondering what had him so mad. “The one time I need to put one on, and they’re all medium.” I watched as he slowly opened the packet and slowly unrolled the condom, barely able to roll it down his dick before it finally reached the end halfway down. Looking at me, he smiled. “Damn this fucker is tight. You sure you want to take this monster?” he asked, grinning at me before continuing, “Because once I start, I’m not stopping. Last chance.” Laying back, I pulled my knees to my chest and said softly, “Please fuck my hole.”

I was new here in town. I needed to get a physical exam for my new job so I asked around and one of my neighbors recommended I go see Dr. Kendrick, over on 10th. I called to make an appointment and a few days later I headed over there. Dr. K had an office right there in his home, a cozy-looking house set back from the street. Inside the front door was a small waiting area. A sign on the wall said to take a seat until I was called. After a few minutes a door opened. First, a young man about my age came out and hurried for the front door. I remember that his face was red and sweaty. Maybe he had seen the doctor because he had a fever. Next, Dr. K stepped into the waiting room and said, "You must be Larry. Larry Hicks? Come on into my exam room." I followed him into a bigger room. This one had a desk, a couple of chairs, cabinets and, in the middle of the floor, was a medical exam table. "Why don't you start getting undressed while we talk? You can leave your boxers and shirt on for now." So, I took off my socks and shoes along with my trousers, shirt and underwear and put them on one of the chairs. "Hop up on the table," he said, and tell me what I can do for you." As I explained my reason for the appointment he began making notes of our conversation. He asked my age, which was 19, and inquired about my medical and family history. All the while he poked and prodded me, working his way through the exam. Eventually the questions turned more personal. "So, are you sexually active, Larry?" I reddened a bit and said, "Not much. I've only done it a couple of times." "That's not a problem," he said. "Now...when you think about having sex...you know, when you get horny...do you mainly think of having sex with women or having sex with men?" Seeing the shocked expression on my face, he continued, "It makes no difference to me, young man. I just need to get a complete picture of your situation." "I don't know," I said, "I guess maybe I'm gay. I've only done it with two guys." "Well, if you're unsure, we can certainly help you figure that out. Do you like having your penis sucked?" I nodded. "Do you like it when a man puts his organ in your mouth? Do you like to pleasure him? Do you like him to ejaculate in your mouth? And do you swallow his semen?" Guiltily, I nodded "yes" to each question. "Well, at this point, I think it's safe to say that you are an homosexual." I blushed. "Now, as for anal sex...are you the insertive partner?" He glanced at me. "Hmmm! No! Probably not! So, you're the receptive partner, right?" My cheeks burned bright red and I could only look at the floor. So...you are what's commonly known as...."a bottom. In plain words...you accommodate the needs of other men. Excellent!" He smiled warmly! "Let's move on! Do you have any Sexually Transmitted Diseases? Herpes? Syphilis?" "No," I stammered. "Are you HIV-negative?" "Yes! I mean...I guess so." "Well," he said, "we have to be sure. We'll get you tested for everything. Then I can give you a clean bill of health." He did the pinprick and drew some blood. "Larry, I'm running a little behind. While we're waiting for your results, I'm going to put you in the next room. Bring your stuff. You can leave your boxers and shirt on for now." He ushered me through a doorway into the next room. "This actually is my bedroom," he said, and indeed, there was a large bed situated against one wall. "I use this as a second exam room when it gets busy. It's quiet and private. Have a seat there on the bed and make yourself comfortable. Mrs. Shaw is just stopping by to get her flu shot. It won't take long. I'll be back in about 10 minutes." He retreated to the first exam room and closed the door behind him. I sat down at the base of the bed and began to wait. In a few moments, I heard another patient enter the room next door and I could hear the murmur of their conversation. A few minutes later I could hear Mrs. Shaw departing. After a few more minutes, Dr. K came back into the bedroom. "Good news!" he said. "You're completely healthy. Your HIV test was negative. I hope you're not disappointed?" I was a bit confused. "What did you say?" He smiled back at me. "Oh, nothing...let's finish up the exam. You seemed a little unsure about your sexuality. You know...your preferences and needs. So, let's find out!" With that, he reached out and placed his palm against my chest as I sat there at the end of the bed. He pushed firmly, causing me to lie back on the bed cover. "I want to check your responses," he said as he began unbuttoning my shirt. When he was finished, the shirt fell open, exposing my chest and stomach. Without any warning, he reached out with both hands and used his fingers to firmly grasp my nipples. As he gave them a short but sharp twist, I moaned involuntarily, "Uhnh!" and my mouth remained open in an O-shape. My body reacted strangely in other ways as well. My back arched, pushing my chest towards the doctor's hands. Also, my knees jerked, pulling apart and upward towards my chest a bit. Dr. K stepped smoothly into the gap between my legs, thereby preventing them from closing. Dr. K's smile got bigger. "Well, well! That's interesting." He twisted the flesh trapped between his fingers once again and said, "When I apply pressure HERE, look what happens. Your legs spread apart and your mouth opens wide." And that's just what happened. As my legs parted, he pressed even closer to me. He leaned forward and placed his right hand on my face. Two fingers aggressively entered my mouth and started exploring. "This is VERY NICE," he said. "Even better than I had hoped for." I could only try to gurgle a response. Dr. K's voice remained kindly but his eyes seemed to harden somewhat as he looked down at me. "Raise your hips, Larry! Come on...haven't got all day! Let's get these off you." With that, I felt his free hand tug on my boxers. They slid off my hips and down my legs, finally brushing past my toes as they fell away to the floor. "There...that's better! You won't be needing them for a while." His fingers continued their rough invasion of my mouth and I felt his other hand cup my balls. He used his thumb to stroke the head of my dick in a circular motion. I response to his ministrations, I could feel my cock begin to lengthen and swell. "Your reflexes have proven exceptional," he announced. "Can you tell that your penis is becoming erect? And your nipples! My Lord,...we've already seen how responsive to stimulation they are." As if to prove the point, his hands descended on my nipples again, his fingers pincering them forcefully. I was helpless as my mouth opened again and my legs twitched further apart. Now, THREE fingers were jammed into my gaping mouth. "We've conclusively established that your sexual responses are HOMOSEXUAL! Now we should discuss your HIV status. I know that you tested negative this time, but it's well known that many gay men secretly regret being negative. For many reasons, every day, men like you choose to become HIV-positive. I imagine that you must have given it thought, haven't you?" With his digits swirling around inside my mouth, only garbled noises came out in response. "That's what I thought," he continued, as if I had somehow agreed with him. "Let's help you decide! Let's say you were gay...which you are. And you were a submissive bottom...which apparently you are. And your status is negative...which it is. And you desperately wanted to be HIV-positive instead." He now looked at me. "Is that right?" "Anngh! Gruhhh! Mmmpph!" He looked at me quizzically. "Does that mean, 'Yes'?" I tried to lurch upright, but his hand on my face kept me pinned to the bed. The doctor nodded, "See! I knew that deep down, you might want that for yourself. The question is...what can we do about it? Hmmm?" He stared at me. His eyes didn't seem very friendly any more. In fact, I felt like the doomed bird transfixed by the serpent's gaze. "Let's figure this out together. Here's a test for you. I just want you to answer honestly. Nobody's judging you here, ok?" Although the alarms in my head hadn't really stopped, I nodded my head. "Good! SO, let's say you come to me seeking my advice about becoming HIV-positive. I might ask you the following: "If you were to be helped in converting to a positive status, would you want to be infected, or 'assisted' if you prefer that word, by one man alone...or would you prefer to be infected by several men at once? Of course...you'd be in a sling for comfort." I was lying on the bed, unable to speak intelligibly and unable to sit up. My shoulders drooped in resignation. Maybe I should just play his game and see what happened. I gently prodded his fingers with my tongue. He got the hint and withdrew them so I could be understood. "I....I....," I whispered. He asked, "What?" As he leaned closer, his fingers gave each nipple a sharp little pinch. I gasped, "one man...ONE MAN!" He squeezed HARDER! "Say it ALL!" he commanded. Utterly under his control, I moaned, "I...I'd want...ONE MAN...one man to INFECT ME!" "I was hoping that's what you'd say. That's all you had to do, Larry...just ask!" I could hear his free hand fumbling with his belt. His other hand left my mouth and I heard the sound of a zipper being lowered followed by the whisper of his pants as he pushed them down. He cupped my balls again and my dick, no longer neglected, stiffened rapidly. Dr. K leaned over and covered my mouth with his. His tongue entered me, controlled me. "You don't have to be afraid, Larry! I'm going to take care of you. We're going to do this the right way, baby. His mouth trailed down my chest and belly. Upon reaching my cock, he engulfed it with his lips and began sucking up and down my shaft. Heavenly! Too quickly, he broke free and brought his face back up to mine. "You know...I've given many guys like you their first fuck...right here on this bed. And I given many guys their first condomless fuck...right here on this bed. In fact, I've given many men...men just like you, Larry... their first POZZING...right here on this bed! Pozzing...that means taking a man that is HIV-negative and introducing the active virus into his system, turning him HIV-positive. It's a privilege to be the one that helped you to understand your need to convert to positive like so many have done before you." He continued,"Nothing could be simpler, more natural and more normal than for two men to share their fluids like this, in order for the negative one to convert. Let me show you. "Open your mouth!" I didn't have a choice because his fingernails scratched across my nipples, making my mouth open. He leaned over me and slowly spit a few long gobs of saliva into my waiting orifice. "Now...Taste it!" I ran my tongue through his spit, letting his juices mingle with mine. "And Swallow it!" he ordered. I meekly complied. "See how natural that was?" I could feel the head of his dick bobbing around, pushing into my ball sac, leaving a trail of gooey precum wherever it touched. Suddenly, I felt warm liquid washing over my belly, running back down over my cock and balls onto the bed. "See, Baby! See how natural that is? How good my piss feels on you? I'm sharing that with you as well." My mind reeled with the thought that, by sharing his fluids, he was merging himself, his very DNA with me. ""The best comes last!" he hissed. His penis zeroed in on my hole. The head, still leaking precum, nudged a bare half inch into me, and stopped. "There!" he whispered. "I'm inside you and I've already left a tiny bit of fluid behind. A little HIV is already growing inside you. Do you want MORE?" All I could do was whimper! "You have to SAY IT!" he said. "YES!...I want more!" With that, he eased in and started up a slow steady pistoning motion. He growled, "You want my HIV? You want me to fuck my HIV into your neg pussy? SAY IT!" All the while his thrusts picked up speed and power. My voice got louder. "YES! Fuck me with your HIV! Make me positive! POZ ME!!" By now, he was banging into me furiously. "I want you to remember that someday....someday when you have AIDS...that it's MY AIDS inside you. I'm the one that infected you, put my virus in you. And YOU...you did what a Poz Bottom was supposed to do...you just SPREAD YOUR LEGS and BEGGED ME FOR IT!" He yelled as he began to blast his viral sperm deep within me. I could almost fell the bug attaching itself to my sensitive rectal walls, starting to grow. Dr. K rolled off of me and stood up. He bent over and gave my ass a loud smack. "I've probably knocked you up. I'm pretty potent because I don't take any HIV medications and my viral levels are always very high. Just to be safe, let's give you an appointment in 3 months so you can come in and get tested. My promise is that I'll keep fucking you until my virus has claimed you.

This is a side-project that goes along with my other story. However, it can easily be read on its own. Be warned it will have a similar set up to another story on here, but only in setting up the setup of the plot. Let me know what you think down in the comments! ---- Part 1 “That's it boy, suck on that nice piece of meat. Get it nice and wet for what’s coming!” Urged on by the hot, muscled man standing above me, I forced his cock deeper into my mouth, enjoying the feeling and taste of his dripping, uncut cock sliding around on my tongue, my own cock throbbing in anticipation. I moan as I felt him place his hand on the back of my head, urging me even deeper down on his cock. Forcing myself not to gag from its massive size, I let him slowly rape my mouth as he let out a content sigh. Soon I'd finally get what I fantasized and dreamed of. A huge cock shooting a thick load deep up my virgin ass. — It was hard to believe that that morning I was just a young, 18-year-old virgin. I knew from a young age that I was gay; girls never even blipped on my radar, and I always found myself fantasizing about some of the hotter guys in my class kissing me and feeling me up. However, I never acted on it. My family had moved to our small, midwestern town when I was in 6th grade, leaving me friendless. My former best friend was over 1000 miles away on the east coast, as well as everyone I knew growing up. I hadn’t been popular, but I was at least well-liked by nearly everyone. In my new school, I was an outcast… quiet, shy, too smart for the popular crowd and disliked because I actually enjoyed being at school. By the time I hit my senior year, I knew I wanted to be like the guys I saw in the porn I found online. A slut, taking cock from multiple guys until shooting all over myself. My only friends were a few of the nerdier, but in my opinion, much cooler girls who shared some of my same interests in different books and shows at the time. Nobody, however, knew my secret… that I wanted nothing more than to lose my virginity to a hot top. This obviously didn’t stop me from being made fun of, with being called things like fag or queer by the hotter, popular jocks in the in-crowd. Rationally, I knew it was only to get a rise out me, but a part of me always worried they knew I was what I secretly wanted to be. By the end of my senior year, I couldn’t take it any longer. I was tired of jacking off and pretending I was getting fucked by some hot, muscled guy as I fingered myself to climax in my hand, licking my hand clean to keep my secret from my thankfully more liberal parents and 5 sisters. I decided to finally lose my virginity and started to secretly hatch out a plan. Having gotten a few letters from some prospective colleges from the large city about 3 hours away, I planned to go and look at a few, staying at my distant cousin’s apartment near one of the campus. Knowing he wouldn’t care if I was there or not, I figured I could make my parents believe my half-lie. I would look at the school that week, during spring break at my school, and during the weekend I would go to a gay bathhouse I had read about in some of my lurkings online. It would be a week after 18th birthday, so I would finally be legal to enter. And maybe, just maybe, I would find someone to help me fulfill my wish of losing my “cherry.” — The week came quickly when my parents sat me down, my bag already around my shoulders and my keys to the small Honda my parent’s bought me in my hands. I had hoped to sneak out with a quick goodbye. “Buddy,” my father, still in his lab coat from work at the local hospital, “We need to have a talk.” SHIT! I thought to myself, THEY KNOW. FUCK!!! “Uh… yeah, dad?” I said, trying not to let the fear in my mind crack into my voice. My plan was ruined, I was sure of it. The tone of his voice and the look on my mother’s face said it all. “Your mother and I have talked… we know you’re a man now, but… we’re concerned. You know we love you and only want what is best and…” “Oh Robert!” my mother sighed, her thick accent coming through as she crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes at my dad, “Shit or get off a pie.” “Pot… mom… it’s pot…. it’s slang for toilet…” I said, smiling slightly at her mistranslation. Thirty years and she STILL got idioms wrong. I was beginning to think it may be intentional. “I like mine better,” she huffed before continuing, before glaring at my father, “We know you are going to college soon. Tell him.” Pulling a pile of condoms and a handful of pamphlet out of his coat, he held them out to me. “You need protection. We know things happen at colleges… and we don’t want you coming back and trapped with a baby on the way with some girl, or something like HPV or herpes…” my dad blurted out, rubbing his hand on his coat as he sat back on the couch. “Uh….” was my only reply. I felt my cheeks start to burn. My parents thought I was going to get some girl pregnant. “Just take them and be careful. And have fun. We love you very much,” my mom replied with a slight nod. “And don’t trust a girl just because she is on the pill. She could be on an antibiotic, or could be asymptomatic or…” my dad replied, refusing to meet my eyes as he blurted out everything. “Thanks… I guess…” I said slowly, grabbing them with a slight grimace, “You guys know…. I learned about most of this from health class… right…? And I really am just going to check out a few schools. I’ll call and everything if you want…” “Just go have fun my little zaychik. Call when you get there so I know you are okay,” my mom replied, shooing me away. — 3 hours later, and thankfully over a hundred miles from my family, I sat my bag down in the small living room of my cousin’s apartment, glad he was willing to let me stay there while he and his friends went to spring break somewhere out east. It’s Friday night, and I’m ready to finally get down to business. Pulling out a tight pair of jeans I had outgrown the previous year, and a similarly fitting t-shirt, I changed quickly and looked up the directions and information I had written earlier and made my way to the bar where the bathhouse was located. Arriving, I quickly made my way to where the entrance was at the back and walked up to the small window, much like the ones I had seen in movies that they had at a seedy motel. I rang the bell and out from the back room came one of the hottest guys I had ever seen. Easily over 6ft, he had piercing grey eyes, long thick blonde hair, and a large piercing in his nose. He was wearing a tight-fitting wife beater that nearly covered his well-muscled chest and abs, and black leather pants that clung to his body, leaving nothing to the imagination. My eyes were quickly drawn to his pert ass and large bulge. A heavy five’o’clock shadow covered his face, which reminded me of an extremely hot bad boy version of Thor for some reason. Even his voice made me melt, gravely and deep. “Can I help you, boy? The bathroom is back in the other side of the bar,“ he said, pointing back towards the bar, looking up and down my body before smiling, “Unless you see something you like?” Flustered, I blushed and shook my head. “No… um…. I’m here to… I mean….” I said, suddenly unable to form words. “Look, no offense kid, but you got to be at least 18 to even be in the bar. You gotta be… what? 15? 16 tops?” Shaking my head no, I pulled out my wallet and pulled out my ID, sliding it under the glass. “No, sir… I’m… I’m 18,” I said with a gulp, “See… my birthday was last week.” “Sir, huh? First time to the baths then, huh?” he asked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, deftly lighting one and blowing the smoke at the glass. “Uh, yeah… I… it’s that obvious huh?” I replied. “You’re a cute fucker. They are going to be all over you!” he said with a smile, the cigarette dangling in his mouth., “Room or locker?” “Oh… um….” I replied, realizing that I had no idea what to do. “I don’t really know which one…” “Hot piece like you will definitely get invited into a room in no time,” he said, “I’d go with a locker.” I nodded as he continued. “Normally the fee is $40 to get in, full $100 for a room, but seeing as you just had your birthday, and it’s your first time… how about $20?” he said, turning around and grabbing a towel and a key. Reaching into my wallet, I pulled out the two bills, left over from my gifts the week before. “Thanks…” “Don’t mention it. We all have our first times,” he said with a smile, “Maybe you’ll still be around later when I get off. Would like to help show you the ropes.” Smiling back, I entered the entrance, the door buzzing as he pressed a small button under the counter in front of him. — Looking around, I took in the sites, as dozens of naked men walked around, some with towels and others in various states of undress. I quickly found my locker, and with a deep breath, I quickly undressed. Throwing the towel around my now naked body, I grabbed a few condoms from my jean pocket, tucking them in between my skin and the cloth. Taking another look around, I felt like a fish out of water. 18, skinny with just a small amount of lean muscle on my frame. Black hair, blue eyes, and an average sized uncut cock were all I had to offer. And around me was every possible type of hot character from every gay porn I ever saw. There’s no way anyone would be interested in someone like me, I thought to myself as pulled the towel even closer. And that’s when I saw HIM. 6ft tall, heavily muscled, with a head full of thick brown hair. A face like a Greek statue, which sported a goatee and mustache. Nipple piercings and a thick hairy chest. And a what looked to be an uncut 10-incher with what looked to be a large PA peaking out from under the small towel that barely covered him, framed by a pair of low hanging bull balls. Tattoos all over his body. The man looked like sex walking. A bad boy who would ravage my hole if given the chance. Something straight out of the hottest porn. AND HE’S WALKING UP TO ME! I thought in a panic. I felt myself start to blush as he eyed me up and down, my cheeks burning even hotter as I saw his cock stir under the towel. “I’m Garrett.” he said, stopping in front of me and holding his hand out, “You must be new here.” “Jeez… it’s that obvious, huh?” I said, biting my lip as I stared at his hand, almost afraid. I looked around, lost. He waved his hand slightly in front of me drawing my attention back to him. “And you are?” I panicked for a second, thinking maybe I should make up a name before realizing that even if he knew my name, nobody around here would know me. Pulling up the courage, I shook his hand and replied. “Yurik… uh… nice to meet you…” I said, trying desperately to sound cool as my voice threatened to break as I suddenly started to spout a massive flow of words, “My mom is from Russia and that why I have a weird name. It’s-it’s my first time. I’ve never done this before, and I didn’t expect to actually find someone so hot to actually talk to me, especially you. Not with how I look. And… and… and I…. should really shut up now…” He let out a soft laugh as he let go of my hand before slowly rubbing his hand up and down my arm while looking at my smaller body. “Dude, calm down. You got nothing to worry about. Fucking sexy thing like you is a rare find here,” he said in a low, calm voice and his fingers traced down my chest and ran over my left nipple, causing to bead up instantly. I fought back a moan and looked up at him in silence. “Need someone to show you around? I would love nothing better than to show you around. Make all these fuckers here jealous,” he asked, his smile growing bigger as he saw what his touching me was doing. I slowly nodded and smiled nervously as his hand wrapped around my shoulder and he pulled me closer. “Mind if we stop by my locker first?” he asked as I felt him slowly reach down and grab my ass under the towel. Fuck, that feels so good, I thought to myself as he slowly ran his fingers through my crack, teasing the hair near my hole. “As long as you keep doing that!” I replied with a moan. “Oh, I plan on doing much much more…” he replied, and we started walking, drawing the attention from a few guys. We came to his locker and I stood there quietly as he grabbed his key and opened the door. Pulling out a large leather pouch from his shirt pocket, as well as a brown glass bottle. I knew instantly they were poppers, which I had read about and seen in various sites online. I wanted to try them, and it looked like I might get my chance with this walking sex god. I was however slightly shocked when he pulled out a large, black and green cigar and stuck it in his mouth. Some of the guys in my school smoked them when there were no adults around, looking somewhat goofy to me. But this man looked even hotter somehow with it firmly in his jaw. Looking at me suddenly, he stopped and pulled the stick out of his mouth. “Mind if I smoke?” he asked, looking directly at me as he waited for my reply. “Oh, uh… no, go ahead,” I said, my cock now throbbing under my towel at full hardness, my face still blazing red. With a smile, he pulled out the lighter from the same pouch and lit it. Drawing the flame to the end, he stuck the cigar back in his mouth and brought it to life, taking a deep drawn in before blowing it straight up in the air. Quickly enough he put everything back into the locker and wrapped his arm around my waist and we set off into the bathhouse.

1999 was an annoying year. People were talking about the Y2K bug that was going to end civilization as we knew it. Conspiracy theories were all over the internet and people were actually building underground bunkers and stocking them with canned food. Gun sales were soaring. If the world ended on New Year's Eve, it wouldn't be because of some computer glitch -- it would end because of crazy people. And every commercial was by some business having "The Sale of the Century ". And I was so sick of that goddamn Prince song that I almost stopped being a fan of his. And it was only June. Speaking of annoyances -- my best friend Andy was really getting on my nerves. He was always around, and if he wasn't so entertaining, I would have dropped him like a bad habit. I was such a grumpy bastard back then. Andy lived next to the little house I rented when I first moved to the city. He decided we would be buddies right off the bat. We were both in our 20's and gay, but there wasn't a mutual attraction. I didn't know anybody and he became my guide. He was short, stocky, and very feminine And he never shut up. He had a wild life while I'd led a boring one so far. He took me to the first gay bar I'd ever been to. I complain about him, but I'd never go to places like that without him. He knew everybody and everything going on. I'd spot a guy I'd want to go talk to and he would tell why I should or shouldn't. He'd slept with most everyone and would give assessments of their dicks and fucking, sucking preferences & abilities. He would always tell me the same thing every time we went out: "Try not to look like such a virgin, Kyle". "You don't know I'm a virgin". "Of course I do. You glow with it. Everybody here knows too, Some dudes get turned on by that but most don't want to have to educate a guy on how to use his dick". He wanted me to act more like him, I suppose, but wasn't possible. I suck at flirting and seducing and everything else you needed to do in order to get laid. I just assumed it would happen when it happened. I didn't want the kind of relationships Andy had. I wanted the impossible fairy tale romance like the ones I'd seen in movies. I wanted hand-holding, hugs, candlelight, kisses and baths together. I had no idea what I'd want if man sex was offered to me. I'd watched gay porn videos with Andy and mentally noted a few things that looked exciting, but everything was vague as far as primal desire went. One night we went to a little hole of a tavern called "Taps". Andy was unimpressed, but I wanted to stay. It wasn't loud or crowded and the bartender was kind of cute. We'd been there a few minutes when Andy suddenly choked mid-swallow of his beer. After he was done having a coughing fit, he said "Don't look now. Don't look. He's here". "Who?" "Death Dick. He's infamous in this town. Go to the bathroom and you'll see him sitting alone at that little table next to the Ms Pac Man machine. When you come back, I'll tell you all about him". I headed off the men's room and prepared myself to see a giant dude looking sinister and predatory. Instead, I saw an average guv in his 30's with a conservative haircut and little round glasses. He wore a short-sleeved shirt buttoned up to the collar and looked completely harmless. My old friend was fucking with me again. When I got back I told Andy he was full of shit. "Don't make eye contact with him. Don't talk to him". "Why?" "He's known around here as having the most enormous cock ever seen...and not in a good way. It needs to be in a museum somewhere...not in anyone's bed. I've never seen it myself, but I've heard all about him". "He's just a regular guy, Andy. He's not dangerous". "Oh yeah? Talk to anybody he's had sex with. Supposedly, he was married once and his wife had so many female problems after having him inside her that she left him. I believe it. He then switched to men. One guy had to go the emergency room because Death Dick ruptured his rectal wall. My friend Lars got fucked by him and hasn't had a bowel movement in over a month. I heard he fucked some hustler and the poor guy has to wear a colostomy bag now. They say he drugs people first. There are a dozen more stories like that. You know what a size queen I am, and even I don't to get anywhere near him. Plus-- he has AIDS. I guess he got it from all the blood that's gushed on his cock". I just didn't believe him. He was bored and trying to liven up the evening. "Whatever, Andy". "He hasn't been seen in awhile. I heard he's a teacher at East, and probably the talk had spread enough that he decided to keep a low profile. Well, this is the place to go I guess. Nobody comes here. I'm upset now. Let's go back and watch 'Ab Fab'". As we left, I looked over at the guy and we made eye contact. I smiled and he smiled back. Once Andy and I were outside, he grabbed my arm. "Don't think I didn't notice that. I told you not to look into his eyes. Nothing good has ever happened to anyone who's ever done that. We're never coming back here!" Fine. We went back to his place and watched TV for about half an hour. "I can see the wheels in your head, Andy". "What? What are you talking about?" "You're thinking about him. All my stories have made you curious now". "No". I hated that he knew me so well. "Well, Kyle. I can't watch you all the time, but if I ever hear about you going back there or talking to that guy -- I'll strangle you with my bare hands .I love you to much to see you hurt or sick or killed". "You're a nut-job, Andy. I'm going home". I barely slept a wink that night. I knew it was best to just forget about it, but visions of giant penises kept flooding my head. I wouldn't go back there anytime soon, but I knew I'd go back. It was just something I needed to do eventually. Andy and I resumed our routine. He met some guy and they became pretty serious. He was always with his new man, and I pretty much spent a lot of time at home. He left a voicemail one afternoon while I was at work.: "I'm thinking of moving in with Alex. What do you think? He's got a big condo near downtown and it's really cool. You'd love it. Sorry we haven't been able to talk much lately. Call me at his place....the number is --- ----- . Maybe we can hook up for dinner or a movie sometime next week. I miss you! Kiss kiss." Well. I can't say it wasn't a relief to have him out of my hair for a bit, but I was starting to get lonely. It was time. I went back to Taps that night at the same time we'd gone a few weeks ago. Sure enough -- Death Dick was there at the same table. We exchanged glances and smiles again. I was flying solo. I went to the bar and ordered a beer. The bartender was bored and we chatted for a few minutes. I could stay here or I could go play Ms Pac Man and be just a foot away from the legendary man. I got another beer and a bunch of quarters and went to play. I'm not sure what was going on with my legs, but they were barely working. I probably looked arthritic. As I walked by his table, Death Dick and I exchanged smiles again and I loaded the game with quarters. There was an ashtray built into the console but no place to set my beer. I looked around for a ledge or something. "Mind if I set this on your table?" He glanced up. "Sure. No problem". His voice was as average and non-threatening as any I'd ever heard. "Thanks". I played a few games, but didn't do very well. I was way too aware of his presence and his eyes. I met his stare with mine as I reached for my beer. "You winning?" he asked. "No. I played this all the time as a kid, but I guess I've gotten rusty". I still had a dollar's worth of games left, but I sat down in an empty chair at Death Dick's table. Casual as could be. "Hi. I'm Kyle". "Nice to meet you, Kyle. I'm Shawn. I think I've seen you before". We shook hands and a jolt shot through me. "Maybe. I like how quiet and low-key it is here". "Me too. I really hate the music at most bars, and if I have to hear '1999' played again, I'll lose my mind!" Soulmate. We talked and talked. I forgot all about his reputation for a long time. I noticed that he was sort of handsome in an unconventional way. Hid hair was starting to thin a little in the front, but only if you looked carefully. He and I had a lot in common as it turned out. The hour got a little late, and Shawn had to leave, "I've still got homework to grade tonight. It gives me a headache which is why I always put it off so long. Want to meet up again?" So he was a teacher. "Sure. We can come here again if you want". "Great. How about tomorrow night around 8?" "See you then". We both stood up at the same time and hugged briefly. I never wanted to kiss somebody as bad as I did right that second. We met up at Taps several more times and got to know each other pretty well. One night he just up and asked me if he could come over and see my place. My face froze. "Sure. It's not far. Want to follow me?" "Yes. Let's go". We arrived and I was relieved that Andy wasn't home. His house had been dark for over a week. "Come on in. It's not much, but it's home". He sat on my couch and looked expectantly at me. "Can I offer you something? I've got a bottle of wine somewhere in the kitchen. It was a gift from somebody who knows his wine so I assume it's good". "That sounds great. Mind if I turn on the TV"? "Go ahead. I'll be right back". I heard him flip through the channels as I got a corkscrew and wineglasses that had never been used. The wine was red and that's all I knew about it. "Here you go. Anything on?" "Lots of baseball. Friday nights are not good for TV". We settled on some"Golden Girls" reruns and he put the volume low. We both kicked off our shoes and drank the wine which wasn't so bad. We said a few words here and there before Shawn reached for the remote and muted the TV. "Kyle? If I ask you something, will you promise to be completely honest?" "I promise". He took off his glasses, closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "How much do you know about me?" My face froze again. "Huh?" "I'm asking for an honest answer here". "I've heard some stuff, Shawn. Will you honestly a question I have?" "Go ahead". "How much of what I've heard is true?" "Probably most of it". I had no idea what to say. "What are you thinking, Kyle?" I still didn't have words. "I almost thought you didn't know because you never looked at my crotch. Most every guy in town tries to see the bulge down there. But when you instantly agreed to let me come over, I somehow knew. What are you thinking now?" "I think I'd like you to come back to my bedroom". He stood up. I stood up. We kissed deeply for a long time. We went to my room and lied back in bed. We were next to each other and I had no idea what to do next. "Well...do you want to see it? I'm not ashamed of my dick. I was born with it and it's a part of me". "Yes. I want to see". He got up and stripped down to just a pair of boxer shorts. The bulge was indeed enormous, almost ridiculous. "Here it is..." He stepped out of the underwear and I saw the death dick at last. It was almost the size of a hair dryer. That sounds silly now, but that's the first comparison my brain made. It was a fat, fleshy tube that went down to almost his knee. It wasn't hard, but was visibly getting thicker the longer I stared at it. He lifted it with one hand and showed me the head which was the size of an apple. He stroked it a little and got harder. "Now take off your clothes, Kyle. Don't worry. We won't do anything you don't want to. And, besides, there are things we can't do...but there are things we can". I got undressed in two seconds and got back on the bed. As we lied there, he kept stroking it. It was almost fully hard, but couldn't quite support its own weight. "You can get a closer look if you want", he said in a low voice, grinning. I got up and went to the end of the bed, climbed between his legs and had my eyes just an inch or two from this amazing penis. I made a mental note to thank God for my eyes more often because the sight was amazing. It almost looked like a special effect from a movie. It was twitching and arching. "Give it a kiss, Kyle". I kissed the sticky knob and let my tongue explore the deep slit. I tried to get the whole head in my mouth, but my jaw bones just weren't big enough. "That felt nice. I've been missing that for a long time". "Wish I was able to take more of it". "Nobody's ever gotten past the head. It's OK. I've never been able to cum from a blow job anyway. I takes more. You've never had sex before, have you?" "No. Sorry". "Don't be sorry! Sex brings trouble. We can just feel each other and be intimate and jerk off maybe". And then he was all over me. It felt like there was a third person between our groins. We both fully hard. We groped and hugged and kissed. I could feel myself almost ready to come. I reached down and grabbed as much of his dick as I could hold. He groaned and sighed until I put the head up against my asshole. "No. Stop. It will never work". "Can we at least try?" "Absolutely not. Let's just jack off a little". But he didn't move his dick away from what I offered. So I pulled him closer. Maybe he was having second thoughts. Maybe he would try. He did push against my hole. There was no give and I wanted him to use a little force. I had no idea what I was wishing for. He put some ass muscle into it and I felt my ass break. Worst pain of my life. I screamed even though I knew that would make him stop what he was doing. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Why did you allow that?? Now you're bleeding and I'm about to cum...shit..I'm cumming. Goddamnit! Ohhhh!!" He tried to aim it to the side, but was too late. That hot sperm blasted right into my wounded hole. He collapsed on top of me and breathed heavily. "Oh, Kyle. Why? Why in the fuck would you ....I mean...WHY?" "It's okay, Shawn". "No. It's not. Not for either of us. It is a million miles from OK". "I enjoyed it". He rolled off of me and continued to try and get his breath back. "Did you really enjoy it?" "Yes!" "We have to talk about a few things". "In the morning. Good night, Shawn". I turned off the lamp. The next day we just acted casually as if nothing had happened. He knew that I knew that he had infected me. We silently agreed not to discuss it. And the would be the end of the story if we hadn't decided to start dating. We went to movies and out to restaurants and taking long walks. We took showers together and I gave him foot massages. It most the romance I'd been wanting for so long.

I have submitted several fiction stories here at BZ. I thought maybe some guys would enjoy some true stories from my life. When I was 26 I lived in a big city and had a part-time Master for 7 months until he moved away due to work. He wanted me to move with him, but I wasn't ready to commit to being a full time slave. Part of me wishes I had, cause I've never met anyone else like him or had such a fufilling sex life. But at least I have some wonderful memories. He introduced me to many new things and fulfilled many fantasies. This first story is when we met. It was my birthday weekend and I had taken Monday off so I could have a nice long weekend of drinking, smoking pot, and hopefully having sex. I got laid alot in those days cause I was boyishly cute and slender, (I still am) and had already gotten laid Friday night. Good sex, nice guy, but pretty vanilla. So now it was Saturday and I was in a leather bar searching for something more exciting. I loved older leather daddies, (still do) and usually could score. I was dressed pretty much like everyone else. Levi 501's, white t-shirt, black biker jacket and boots. I was casually making the rounds, checking out some hot men, when I noticed one checking me out. He was definitely sexy. Shaved, bald head, big, bushy mustache, wearing tight jeans that showed a nice bulge, and a leather vest that revealed a very, hairy chest and arms. Yum! I raised my glass and nodded a hello as I casually past him. He reached out and gropped my crotch as I went by. I smiled and nodded my head toward the back patio. I went out back and leaned against a wall, lighting a cigarette. In no time I saw him walk through the door and over to me. "How's it goin tonight boy?" he asked leaning against the wall next to me, lighting his own cigarette. He was a couple inches taller than my 5'11" with a little bit of a belly. Again, yum! "Fine Sir, it's my birthday weekend," I replied, "and how is your night?" "Better now that I've cornered a cute boy." I blushed at his comment. "You flatter me Sir. I'm sure a sexy man such as yourself has no problem attracting the boys." "Not often ones as cute as you. Boys like you are usually at the twink bar." "Well I have more than one side to me, Sir." I demured. "Do tell." he said placing his hand on my ass, rubbing it. "Has anyone given you your birthday spankings yet boy?" "Not yet, Sir. Play your cards right and it may be you." I said cheekily. "Mmmm, a boy with a little spunk in him. I like that." "I bet you do, Sir, in more ways than one." "Play YOUR cards right boy, and maybe you will have my spunk in you." he whispered in my ear as he slid his hand down the back of my pants. My dick strained in my jeans. "Oh, and whats this?" he asked as his finger tried to find my hole. "A plug Sir." I replied as he pushed it a little deeper in me, causing me to moan a little. "A boy who prepares..very nice." We spent at least an hour on the patio, drinking, talking, smoking a joint. He was actually a very nice man. His name was Frank, he was 49, and worked in computers. He said he had seen me around a few times and had really wanted to meet me. He gave me money and had me fetch us beers a couple times. Eventually we both had to piss. As we stood side by side at the trough style urinal, he gave me my first test. "Take my cock out boy, and hold it while I piss!" I did as I was told, as I was WAY into this man. There was no way I'd screw it up! He started pissing a strong stream. "Take my piss in your hand and rub it on your shirt!" I did as instructed. "Again boy!" Again I did. 5 times he had me do this so the front of my shirt was wet with his piss. Then he took his empty beer glass and filled it with the last of his piss. After he allowed me to piss, we returned to the patio, him with a fresh beer, me with his recycled beer. Obviously I didn't need to be told I had to drink it. I was no stranger to piss, but this didn't taste quite like regular beer piss. After some more chat and our drinks were gone, Sir declared, "All right boy, time to quit this bullshit and get down to business." With that, he popped the buttons on my fly and fished out my cock. He wrapped his fingers around the base, lightly squeezing my cock and balls in his hand, and proceeded to lead me through the bar and out the door. Men grinned their approval as Sir led his claimed boy through the crowd, some congratulating him. His apartment happened to only be a few blocks from the bar, and he never let go of my genitals the entire walk, even as he led me into his building. Once we were inside his apartment, he pushed me against the door and started kissing me, deep and hard, grinding his mustache into my face, raping my mouth with his tongue. He pulled off my coat and ripped off my t-shirt as he frantically kissed me. He pushed my jeans down then ordered me to take off my boots and jeans. In no time flat, I was naked, while he remained clothed. "In the future boy, you will ALWAYS be naked in my home." The future? He was pretty confident I'd be back. But if the night finished as good as it started, I knew I'd be back! He pushed me toward the sofa which I took as an invitation to sit. "No boy! On the floor!" I didn't question him and sat on the rug as he went into the bedroom, returning with a mirror that had something on it. He set it on the coffee table and took a razor blade, chopping up some lines. "You ever had crystal before boy?" he asked". "No Sir," I replied, suddenly nervous and excited. The night had just taken a very unexpected turn. I knew what it was, but had never encountered it before. I had done lots of other drugs but not that. "You'll like it boy. And since you don't work till Tuesday, you'll be fine. The rest of this weekend will be my birthday present to you." he said, handing me a little straw. "Two fat lines, one for each nostril." I eagerly snorted the lines, secretly thrilled by this new adventure. My nose and throat burned as the powder entered my membranes. Before long I felt a new, heightened sensation of awareness. My heart beat faster and my whole body tingled, especially my plugged asshole which felt a horniness like never before. Sir went back into the bedroom and returned with some leather items. Quickly he had a collar and wrist and ankle restraints on me. Then he attached a cock and ball harness on me as tight as he could get it. "That's how I like my boy dressed!" said Sir. "Now suck my cock boy!" he ordered, pulling it through the fly in his jeans. I crawled to him and opened my mouth, taking his soft cock into my hungry mouth. For the first time I noticed a thick, chrome cockring around his base. As I sucked him like a starving Ethiopian, his cock grew harder and harder until it reached it's full, hard 8 inches. I pulled off to admire it's beauty. It was extremely veiny with a fat mushroom head. It was a very commanding looking dick. The type a Master should have. Sir held some poppers under my nose and told me to breath deep. He did three hits under each nostril till I was flying high. Then he grabbed my head and forced it back onto his throbbing cock. He pushed my head down, forcing the fat head down my throat, choking me and gagging me. I was in heaven. "That's a good piggy!" he complimented me. "Take my cock! Choke on it bitch! I knew you would be a great boy!" I beamed with pride as I relaxed my throat and swallowed my new Master to the base. He kept up the throat fuck for at least 10 minutes before he pulled out. I panted for air after he exited. "Open your mouth boy!" he ordered me. "Open wide!" I kneeled in front of him as he spit several times into my mouth. "Swallow boy! Then follow me on your hands and knees!" We went into the bedroom where he had a homemade bondage bed. It was black wood, with four tall beams and two by fours around the top, like a perverted canopy bed. Rings and drilled holes were all over it, and I didn't have to guess their purposes. "Made it myself." he proudly said. "Now, face down, legs off the end!" Soon he had me on my stomach, arms stretched and tied down, ankles spread and tied. I just lay there and shook at the excitement of being restrained and high, vulnerable to this sexy man. He pulled out my plug and fingered my hungry hole. I quickly felt a burning inside. "That's a little bootie bump for you boy. Now for a bigger plug." I moaned like a whore as he worked the larger plug inside me, my horny hole sucking it in. "Oh yea!" said Sir. "You've got a hungry little slave cunt there. We'll have to try our best to satisfy it!" "Yessss Sirrrr!" I moaned. "Make me your little slave whore!" I begged as he tied a popper soaked rag over my nose. "I will boy. Don't you worry about that! But first, those birthday spankings!" With that, I felt the first smack of a paddle. I jumped from the shock of it. But it felt so good. 25 more followed and my ass felt like it was on fire while my head spun from the pain and the pleasure and the drugs. "That's such a pretty bright red ass, slave boy. I love to fuck a red hot ass!" With that Sir pulled the plug out and rammed his fat, veiny cock deep in me. I screamed in extasy as he buried himself in me too the hilt. "Oh yea boy! Take your Masters cock! Your MY little slut now! I'm gonna fuck you so much this weekend you won't be able to walk on Tuesday! Damn thats a hot, fuckin slave hole you have boy!" "God yes Sir. Fuck your boy! I wanna be your personal whore! God you feel so good!" And fuck me he did! Fucked me like i had NEVER been fucked before. It had to be at least 45 minutes he pounded my hole. He untied me and we switched positions a couple of times. The final position was on my back with Sir pressing my knees into my shoulders so he could get that fat, mushroom headed cock as deep as possible in me, battering my prostate while my tina soft dick leaked fluid and I babbled gibberish. Sir spit on my face and into my mouth as he pushed his full weight down on me. "Fuck boy!! Here I cum! You ready for your Masters cum? Are you ready for me to breed my new slave boy?" "God yes Sir!" I panted. "Give it to me Sir! Make me your cumdump Sir!" Sir planted his mouth on mine and sucked and bit my tongue as he shook and shuddered, violently shooting his cannon deep inside me, flooding my guts. He collapsed on me while our sweaty bodies both recovered from the most mind blowing sex I had ever experienced. After a few minutes he slowly pulled his spent cock from my wet hole and replaced it with the plug. "Do you really want to be my boy? My slave? My slut? My whore?" he asked. "Yes Sir." I replied. "I would be honoured." "Good." he said kissing me. "Cause your birthday weekend isn't over."

What have I done? Last Sunday I awoke with a huge hard on and felt very horny so logged on to Grindr & BBRTS but no one was around that early therefore decided to take my frustrations out on a bike ride seeing as it was such a glorious day. I had a quick wash and clean out, just in case, I looked into my wardrobe, revealing many different coloured Lycra cycling outfits - black, red and many other coloured shorts. I chose none of these and decided on my white bib shorts. I squeezed my slim 21 year old body into them, making sure they were as tight as possible and ran my hands over the silky curves of my pert ass before adjusting my cock and balls that jut out leaving no one in any doubt of my size and girth. I went outside, got on my bike and off I went. Less than half an hour into my ride is a fabulous undulating road with sweeping corners and one fast downhill section all within a cool forest. It felt great to be alive! I flew on the downhill section hitting 43 m.p.h. then just as I swooped past a big beefy fellow cyclist came a sharp right-hand corner. Suddenly the front wheel washed out under me on a swathe of gravel and I promptly hit the deck, hard, sliding some short ways further down the road until coming to a crumpled halt spread-eagled on the asphalt. Luckily the guy I just passed stopped to help me up. “Hey young fellah, you hurt?” adding, “It’s not often a young man falls at my feet, must be my lucky day!” “Just winded, I think” as he clears my bike to the side of the road just as a car comes along, as I’m still dazed I’m swept up into his big powerful black arms and carried me out of the way to the roadside layby then gently laid me on my side in the recovery position. “Stay there and catch your breath young’un” he says “Oh you have ripped a big hole in your shorts, bit of gravel rash too. I’ll get some wet wipes and clean you up.” As he goes off to his bike saying, “It may hurt but there’s no blood…yet.” On his return, he kneels in front of me his crotch right in front of my face as he’s gently cleaning my tender now throbbing ass. He’s so close I can smell his musk and the sheer size of his dick, which I swear is growing, as he cleans up my scraped butt cheek. I must admit the ministrations to my ass were hot-wired to my now rock-hard cock. “Is it that bad?” I ask thinking he is spending a lot of time cleaning me up back there. “Oh sorry young’un I got carried away…gotta open the wounds to get the grit out” He stands up and offers to help me to my feet. “Ummm looks like you’re already UP!” I know I am blushing and as a result sheepishly admit, “It felt great even if I do hurt a bit…in fact I feel sick!” I stumble to me feet, lean against the nearest tree and retch, my stomach flips a couple of times but nothing comes up. “Gosh! I now need to pee” as a sudden urge hits me and just in time I pull the front of my ripped shorts down as a bladderful of golden piss strongly arcs from my dick. As I stand and shake the last drips off I look down to notice broken packets of lube, used condoms and soggy tissues by the foot of the tree and am instantly hard as an image of orgies flash through my mind. I stand there that bit too long slowly jacking until brought back to reality with, “Ummm, shock I guess” the black guy with the deep booming voice informs me, his breath hot on my neck as his arms wrap around me again, “here let me help you out.” I instantly melted into his muscular body and felt his hard BBC press into my ass crack and it felt huge. His hands brushed both my nipples and worked his way down to my cock. He ripped away at what was left of my torn lycra shorts and cupped my exposed ass. His one finger brushed my hole. I moaned. While he was doing that I rub my hands over the thin material between my hand and his cock and marvel at the amount of precum that is already seeping through the lycra as I rub his dick to full near lycra bursting hardness. In no time I pull down his shorts to free his gorgeous thick curved cock. We kiss, hard, tongues battling with one another saliva all over my face. He broke off the kiss "Are you OK?" "Yes...... I need this" I pulled off my top as I bend down to lick the end of his cock, swirl my tongue around his fat mushroom head and tease his piss slit. His reaction was to moan out loud. When I stood up he was almost naked. We grind our bodies together all the while kissing hands exploring one another’s bodies. "I love the taste of my first black cock," I tell him Our cocks sliding against each other. He easily turns me round and bumps his cock towards my hole. Rubbing it on my hole makes me moan as I move up and down on his hardness as I was so horny for him to fuck me. He pushed me up against the tree and continued kissing. He worked his way down my neck to my chest and sucked on each nipple turning me on even more than I thought possible. I wanted to make him feel good more than anything in that moment. He bobbed down and ate my ass. No one had ever done that before. I was in heaven, moaning and pushing my ass back against his tongue. He ate my ass for about 10 minutes opening me up and getting most of his tongue right up my chute and when he turned me round and we made out and I could taste myself on him. It was sooooo hot. He slammed me against the tree and slid one, then two, three and finally four fingers in and out of my ass. Wow, my legs shook but boy it felt great I open my legs wider to give him the best access as we continue like this for what felt like forever and I was sooooo into it. The whole time his cock was rubbing copious amounts of precum in my skinned ass making it sting, wet and sticky. His cock felt so good on my ass that I spread my legs more and just then his cock head slipped in my ass about halfway. I was shocked and so was he. We hadn't used any lube and he wasn't trying to penetrate me yet, or so I thought, but there was his cock in my ass, bareback. It felt so good. I grabbed his ass and pulled him into me, fuck it hurt like hell but though wincing I told him, "Don't stop. Fuck me. C’mon fuck me" He pushed in hard as my sphincter gave way to the pressure, pinged then stretched further as he plunged the whole length in to his scratchy pubic hairs and with no time to adjust rapidly began pumping away. His sawing in and out threw me about like a rag doll but I hung on to the tree for support every time he bottomed out in my guts. "Oh, fuck, I'm getting close!" he says then started to gently rock his bare cock slowly in and out of my ass. I loved it. No cock had ever felt this good in my ass, I was getting barebacked and I loved it. I thought about stopping but I didn't want to. I knew it was dangerous, but it felt so great that I just kept kissing him and saying "Fuck Me. Fuck me" over and over again. It wasn't much longer before I felt him getting close to cumming, his dick swelled and felt extra hard. He started tensing up and said, "I'm going to cum, cum in your ass, bitch." I’m telling him, "Do it. Cum in me." and pulled him into me as he shot his cum in my ass. "Shit! I'm cumming ... fuck, I'm shooting right NOW." I too was also shooting, but unlike his load, my cum blew all over the forest floor. It must have been biggest load I've ever shot and even after my climax had ended his cock was still throbbing and pulsing spilling cum deep in my bowels. No time for a post fuck kiss as I get one huge shock! There’s clapping behind us, “Nice show Kyle. Heard you tested Poz the other day, he your first victim since?” Kyle’s cock was still rock hard in my ass and I felt it twitch again in response. WHAT DID HE JUST SAY? I completely froze. “So, your husband told us you finally have HIV now, congrats you’ve joined us in the brotherhood man! Good to see you’re spreading your diseased seed.” My mind was racing. ‘Shit what had I done. Is it too late? Maybe I’ll be lucky and it won’t take. They’re joking, right?’ I had just been in fantasyland, fucked by an unbelievable man with a fantastic big black cock who had cum inside me and now I find out he’s POZ? My head was about to explode and my mind was spinning fast. What should I do? Time was passing so slowly with everything that was on my mind. Kyle’s cock was still hard as a rock, his erection planted deep in my guts plugging his toxic seed making sure none could escape. I tried to move forward slowly to remove his cock from my ass but I was too up against the tree and now two other black guys were surrounding me. Oh God! What to do? The answer was made for me as a minute later their zippers were down, my head yanked down and on to another enormous cock, “Suck this, get it slippery and wet coz that’s the only lube you’re getting bro’” I was hard as fuck again and rocking back and forth getting skull fucked which in turn pushed Kyle’s cock farther inside. Now I didn’t care about the hot load inside me. I was hungry for more cock, needed more black cock. I had to keep from screaming when Kyle pulled his monster out of my ass, partly because it hurt and partly because it left me feeling so…empty. I pulled off the dick in my mouth, turned around looked Kyle straight in the eye and begged him to fuck me again. He didn’t need asking twice but I found it to be a big turn on for me and in no time at all he had that monster back inside me and was fucking me as hard and fast as he could with his full length. And I thought the previous fucking was good, man could this guy move. Getting seriously plowed by a POZ stud with a huge cock, one load in me and another on the way was the biggest aphrodisiac coz my dick was bouncing rigid spraying strands of clear precum everywhere as my head was pulled down to suck dick again. “You like this big dick fucking you?” “Mmmmm. Yes. Sir, I sure. Do.” Is all I can say with a mouthful of cock down my throat? “You heard I’m POZ?” I immediately moan, “Yes,” in response. He pushed hard into me driving his cock as deep as he could and , grabbing my hair and pulling my head back as far as he could. “You want another POZ load in that hole don’tcha?” “Yes.” “Yeah I know you do. I’m working on it young’un. I’m gonna fuck so much cum into you. Do your friends know you’re a cum slut? That’s what you are now, a dirty POZ cum slut?” He all but shouts into my ear whist all the time is driving that HIV laden cock in and out of my ass, his diseased cum filled balls slapping my ass. “You want this load? You want me to breed you? You want me to infect that ass, don’t you?” There is only one answer I can give “Yes. Yes. YES! God yes!” I wanted him to blow another load into me and keep on fucking his POZ loads until I was infected and he would just keep fucking me. “You asked for it baby boy, here it comes.” His body slammed into me again and again as he climaxed dumping shot after shot of poisoned cum into my hole. I was shaking from the thrill as I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck and I could feel his cock throbbing with each heartbeat. After a moment, he pulled out with an audible plop and a flood of cum ran down my wobbly legs, he smeared his cummy dick across my scratched butt cheek then moved in front of me and ordered me to clean his dick off which I happily did. I took his dick in my mouth and sucked him clean of cum and ass juices. God did that cock taste like heaven. “Good boy young’un” was all he said satisfied that it was clean he put it away in those tight lycra shorts. "He’s all yours Jay. Won’t need any lube now, plenty of slick lubricant in that wrecked hole. Cum, the best lube ever!” I soon felt Jay’s index finger go inside me, followed by another, and yet another as he tried to stretch my hole enough to accommodate his impressive, shorter but much thicker member. "Oh man, oh baby boy, your hole is still so tight and hungry, I love how you grip my fingers despite Kyle’s hole wrecker twice fucking you good. I'm gonna love adding to your hole making you our own personal cumdump." Jay barked into my ear as he roughly fingered my hole. "I think you're ready baby boy, take a deep breath, relax and enjoy, you are so gonna be in for a bumpy ride." Jay’s fingers were ripped out of my ass, he stood as he mate thrust a bottle of poppers under my right nostril and said "Take a couple of deep breaths boy, trust me, you're gonna need all the help you can get". I breathed in the heady smell and as this warm relaxing feeling rushing over me and my hole relaxed, Jay's big cock head popped inside me and I felt my hole stretch wider than it had ever stretched before. "Ohh fuuuuck!" I groaned as he continued to slide his cock inside me and I felt my insides shift to accommodate this monstrously thick cock totally filling my no longer tight, ass. He finally was planted balls deep inside me. "Hey baby boy, I wish you could see how your hole twitches around my cock! Renton look at this, it’s sucking me in, the hungry bitch wants more" He exclaimed excitedly. He started slowly pulling his cock out of me and I could feel the rim of his cockhead pulling on my ass lips as he withdrew until only the head was in me. He pushed balls deep again and started a slow in and out sawing motion that had me trembling with pleasure, excitement, and what I can only describe as ecstasy once more. Not wanting to be left out, Renton stuffed his thick uncut cock into my mouth and I was soon gagging on his equally huge hard cock now stopping the oxygen supply that sent shivers throughout my body and I felt light headed and limp. I came to as Jay roughly slammed his cock balls deep inside me, just as Renton pulled out, his breathing quickened and his pistoning actions became erratic as he started grunting and groaning. "Fuck! I'm not gonna last any longer! I'm gonna fill you up baby! You ready?!" Jay slams his cock balls deep and holds it there deep inside me shooting bathing the walls of my ass with his red hot POZ juices. Jay collapsed on my back panting hard he eventually caught his breath and slowly pulled his huge cock out of me, leaving me with an empty feeling that needed to be filled again. "Fuck Yeah! I want that ass right now!" Renton exclaims. Renton's cock was thinner but slightly longer with a wicked curve than Jay's and instantly I felt his cock easily slide balls deep into me. That curve made a noticeable difference from the first in stroke, pressing on my prostate, making my cock just and shoot yet more precum. “Fuck Babyboy clamp those ass muscles around my big black dick!” I try my best “I love the look of your lily-white ass against my black log as it swallows it whole.” Renton says as he completely pulled his cock out and rammed back in, “Pushing all that POZ cum deeper up your ripped-up guts, making sure we knock you up good.” By this point, my young cock had been painfully hard from all the prostate stimulation making me tingle all over and my toes curl with pressure building in my balls, cum boiling ready to shoot at any moment. Renton bucks his hips hard against butt making me scream "Oh fuck! I'm gonna cum!" "Shoot, get rid of that useless neg load" he bellows while continuing to slam back into me and his thrusts become even more frantic and that was all it took. Cum flew from my dick, my hole spasmed erratically and gripped his cock tighter clearly pushing him over the edge and he slammed balls deep, “Pozzing your ass, your ass is mine too now Babyboy!” As I distinctly felt every blast of poison shoot from his dick. The three hugged me and Kyle growled in my ear, "Your ass is ours! From now on you're gonna want my dick, and my friends' dicks and you'll always carry us with you, coz you only get pozzed once!” Jay adds, “We’re here at this layby most nights, dusk time so when you need another fucking you know when and where to come…and when you get sick find us coz we’ll all need a potent recharge from your fresh HIV Positive white dick. Gotta keep them strains toxic!” When I got home I lay on my bed thinking about what had just happened. My cock was rock hard again, painfully hard and I don’t know what’s a matter with me? I jacked another load out, perhaps my last neg cum as I fingered my puffy hole and shot all over my now not so white bib shorts. I certainly got a fitting souvenir of a remarkable ride, one I’ll never forget.

Saturday night I was at one of the chicken hawk bars ogling the guys. One shy youth sat down at a corner table. An hour and a half passed, and he just kept drinking. I decided this was THE BOY. I strolled over and introduced myself. His name was Andy, 5' 9", a thin 150, dark hair, satin-smooth skin. I ordered us tequilas. He was 21 and bi-curious. It was his first time in a Gay Bar. We made small talk as he sipped one drink after another. I made sure he never lacked for liquid refreshment. By closing time he was about to pass out. Since I figured a respectable boy like himself wouldn't want to go home drunk, I suggested we get a room at the Baths. He slurred he'd love to see the Baths. I vowed the Kid would get broken in right. I dragged him out of the bar and into my car. I drove to a Bathhouse only 5 minutes away Andy could barely walk and stumbled into our room, collapsing on the bed. I locked the door and pulled off his clothes. Now that we were alone, I kissed him ALL OVER. I don't know how he would have responded had he been sober; but in his intoxicated state, we made out for 20 minutes before he passed out. I'd specifically requested one of the "sling" rooms, and in that apparatus that I struggled to position him. Just looking at the young, slim, hairless body gave me a hardon, knowing what was forthcummin'. I pulled out a large hit of Tina and worked it up his Chute, well past his Sphincter, so the Fucker would quickly absorb it. I secured the stirrups and restraints, so his fresh Virgin Hole was exposed to all Cumers. ! spat on my Cock and lined my Shaft up with his Virgin Boy Cunt. Call me a Sadist, but I just love to plow ALL THE WAY into an unsuspecting Boy's Ass, the less Lube, the better—breaks a Cunt in real fast. So I tore into Andy, ripping him open like a high school girl before I gave him his first Cumload, thick, creamy, and POZ. Now that I had taken his innocence, and, hopefully his health, it was time for the real fun to begin. I flung open the door—and men, young and old, fat and thin, handsome and ugly (mostly ugly) began to traipse in. I knew some were POZ. Most notable among them was Ol' Frank, not chronologically old, but so-called because of his advanced AIDS, emaciated, with sunken cheeks, and KS Lesions on his arms and legs, even his tongue—I've tasted it! I noticed Ol' Frank ravished the Boy several times that night, and a smirk graced his cracked lips whenever he shot. But all good things must Cum to an end, and in the morning I had to leave. I'd dumped in the Youth several times; and I swear, the geography of Andy's Anal Canal had become common knowledge among the Bath's Patrons. I smiled at the Kid, trapped in the Sling, Cunt all red, leaking pink Spooge, which ran down his thighs, to pool on the canvas beneath him. There was literally a quarter-cup of the Staff of Death puddled there. Grabbing a cone-shaped cup from the water cooler, I scooped up what I could and forced it down the semi-conscious Boy's throat. I bid him farewell, though I doubt if he heard me; and, after renewing his room for another 12 hours, asked the Desk Clerk to look in on him from time to time. That night I got a call about 9 PM. It was the Clerk On Duty. He said he'd made a terrible mistake Just as he was leaving Andy's room, he got an urgent page back to the Lobby. In his haste, he'd failed to latch Andy's door. It'd swung wide open. They got really busy, and the Clerk didn't get back to Andy till late afternoon. From what Andy said, some Wise Ass had forced a rubber ball between his teeth, then the Dude, and 15 other guys, proceeded to rape him.. Andy was huddled in a corner of the lobby, terrified and crying, as he awaited a cab. The Clerk had tried to calm him, telling him everything would be OK. Of course, that was bullshit. Andy would never be the same again.

I've had lots of piss experience. I had one pig wear my piss in his beard til it dried, then not shower all day long. He was hesitant at first, but grew to love it. Another guy wanted his cowboy boots soaked. Like I said- all types out there:-)

A reader recently noticed this story had been duplicated. While I'm not sure the versions are identical, I have nevertheless merged the two threads. Hotload84 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- One of my favorites... I was 22, and working in Lewisam Hospital HIV centre as a third year medical student. I was young, blond, 11 stone, and 6 foot tall, so I got a lot of attention from the gay guys on the AIDS ward. There was one particular inpatient who always flirted with me like crazy. He was 56 years old, skinny and tanned, he was in the advanced stages of AIDS. On one particular night when I was on call, I went into his room, closing the door, and found he was still up. "Hi, John, still awake?" I asked, standing next to the bed. I was wearing just scrubs, boxer shorts and trainers with no socks on, my bulge kind of rested on the mattress as I leant forward against the bed, but I knew he wouldn't mind. "Hi, Joe, how are you?" John replied as he turned to face me, ihe process his hospital gown fell off his shoulder, showing his skinny chest, covered in grey hair. "I'm ok, but more importantly, how are you?" I asked. "Not so great. My viral load is up high again, and the KS on my leg is itching," he said, pulling his foot out from under the cover. He had a Kaposi Sarcoma on his left foot, one of the signs of advanced AIDS. It was a small brown, scaly lump, about the size of a 50p coin. I lifted his foot up and stroked the cancerous lesion. "You need some moisture on it. It's quite dry," i remarked, running my hand up his calf, feeling the similar sized cancer lump on his left shin. With one hand I stroked the KS lesion on his shin with my thumb, rubbing the lesion on his foot with the finger tips of my other hand. "Well, I'll let you sort that out for me young man," he commented, curling his toes round my fingers as I stroked his bare foot. "Is there anything else with which I can help you, John?" I asked. "Well, my cock has a problem," he replied, broadly grinning. "Oh, really. What would that be?" "It swells everytime a certain medical student comes near," he answered, out-lining his erection in his hospital gown, suggesting "I think you should lock the door and examine it," he said, lifting the edge of his gown up a bit. "John, ummm, you shouldn't get that out here..." I said as John exposing his big, heavy, hairy nuts, which I knew were full of toxic cum. "Oh, ok. I'd better lock the door if youre going to do that," I said, walking over to the door and locking it, and turning the little knob so the slits in the window went opaque. I walked back over to John's bed and sat down on the edge, slipping my shoes off and wiggling my sweaty bare toes. "At least I can go barefoot if the door is locked, I commented. "You like teasing me, don't you Joe?" John asked rhetorically. "This is just going to be a visual inspection, I said, lifting-up his gown. His fat, seven inch, uncut, veiny, tanned, poz erection lay obscenely hard along his bare thigh. "But I think I felt a lump, or maybe two lumps," he said lifting his balls up from between his thighs so his fat genitals proudly hung over his leg in front of me. I stood up, the hard floor cold on my bare feet, standing right up to the bed, my semi hard cock bulging my scrub trousers, the lump of my genitals resting on the mattress. "John, you have an amazing cock, but I'm a student here. I'm supposed to leave the room if a patient gets aroused," putting my hand on his bare foot again, rubbing his cancer lesion gently as he stroked his erection slowly. "You can just watch me wank. Anyhow, you seem to like touching my KS" John said. With that, he slid his bare foot up under my scrubs top, placing his bare sole on my bare chest under my clothes, suggesting "Take your top off." I did as he directed. Lifting my scrubs top off over my head, I stood bare foot and topless in an AIDS patient's hospital room. I put my hands on John's bare foot, lifting it up to my face as he lay naked, stroking his fat cock on the bed, and looked closely at his KS lesion, and then pressed my lips into the cancer riddled skin, kissing his bare foot right on his KS lump. "You're a nasty one, ain't ya," John asked, rubbing his big toe on my lips, pushing his sweaty toe into my mouth. I sucked down on his big toe, tongue-fucking the toe gap between his big toe and the next, proceeding to work my way down towards his little toe, thoroughly tongueing his toe gaps until all five of his toes were covered in spit. Then I kissed my way back-up his bare foot, until again I was pressing my lips into his KS lesion. "You can suck it, if you want. It'll help moisturise it,' John observed. I licked the cancerous lump, feeling the scaly texture of the lesion with my tongue. I pressed my lips round the circumference and sucked on his KS lump, sloppily sucking his cancer between my lips and into my mouth. Eventually I stopped slurping on his KS lesion, kissing his toes as he pulled his foot away, rubbing his saliva covered toes on my erection that was tenting out my scrubs trousers. "I think it's time to take these off," John said, pulling at my waist band with his toes. I assisted, pushing my trousers and boxers to my bare feet and kicked them off, standing naked in front of John as he leant forward and started to suck my cock. I held his head, curling my toes on the hospital floor as I face fucked John. The old guy deep-throated me easily. "John, I really shouldn't be doing this. I could lose my position,' i said as John pulled me onto the bed, laying me on my back and maneuvering on top of me. Our chests and cocks were pressed togther, our faces six inches apart. I leant forward and started to snog him, making out with his as we ground our cocks together. "Good boy, right decision," John said as he shoved his tongue down my throat. "But what if the nurses outside hear?" I asked as we rubbed our naked bodues together, readying ourselves for sex. "Well, we should probably do this quietly so they don't hear" John answered. Lifting my feet up onto his shoulders and kneeling between my legs, pressing his cock into my nut sack, he bent over so his face came close to mine again. "John, what are you doing?" I asked, adding "We can't fuck. Maybe some sucking, but we don't have a condom," I said as John kissed my forehead. With that, John reached over and pulled a condom out the drawer next to his bed and placed it on my chest, saying "It's there, if you want it." "What do you mean 'if I want it?'" John then kissed me on the lips as he rubbed his helmet over my ring and up and down my ass crack. "You're laying on your back, your feet up on my shoulders, on the AIDS ward in which you chose to work, having sucked the KS lesions on my foot," John replied. "So?" I asked. "So I guess you have a fetish for poz cock," John replied. With that he stuck his tongue out and pointed it to the left, so I could see another 50p sized KS lesion on his tongue, growing out of the side of his tongue half way along the shaft of it. "Is that...?' I started to ask but trailed off as I felt him lodge his helmet at my anus. "It's another lesion. Do you want to suck it?" he asked, gently putting pressure on my ass with his helmet. "I'd love to suck on it," I replied as John pressed his cock harder into me, the tip starting to seperate my ring. "I'll have to bend over to let you reach. My poz cock might slip inside a little bit," he observed, pushing his helmet into me a fraction to emphasise his point, noting "I've leaked quite a lot of poz precum on your little ass ring, so you're pretty well lubed back here," he said, rubbing his cock round my ring, pushing in a tiny bit more. "I don't care. Let me suck your tongue lesion," I replied, inviting him by widely opening my lips. John bent forward, his helmet slowly slipping into me, along with half his shaft, and stuck his tongue in my mouth. I knew his poisenous cock was buried in my guts, but all I could think about was sucking on that lump on his tongue and how nasty and kinky and horny that was. Then John pushed his cock deeper into my body. Then it realized: I was being penetrated bareback by a very toxic cock. I stopped sucking and stared in his eyes. "You like sucking my lesion? Do you want my raw cock up you deeper or should I pull out?" he asked. "Put your cock balls-deep inside me," I answered, pulling him back down and sucking on his tongue again. As directed, he slid in, balls-deep, grinding his cock into me. He slid out again, removing his tongue from my mouth. "More?" he asked. "Fuck me" I answered, laying back. "You nasty lil student boy," John said as he straighten his back, and buried his cock balls-deep into my ass. John was kneeling between my legs, my feet on his shoulders, trying to poz me as I lay on my back pierced by his fat cock. "John, jesus, actually, fuck, I can't let you do this. You've got to," trailing off as John slid his cock out and then gently slid it back inside me again. "Just let me fuck you for a bit. I won't cum in you, I promise," John whispered. Lifting my bare feet to his face, he sucked on my toes as he slid his cock in and out of my ass, gently fucking me. "Oh god, fuck, I can't believe I'm doing this in the hospital,' I said, curling my toes round John's tongue as he fucked me bareback, slow, and really deep. "Are you sure you don't want this?" John asked, reaching over and picking up the condom, putting it in my hand. "Why? I don't need it - as long as you don't cum in me," I replied. John fucked me harder. "Yeah, but I'm getting close," John said, sliding out completely and then fucking back in to the hilt, hard and deep, my ass slurping wth each thrust. "Fuck. How close? This feels really good," I asked, pushing my feet into his mouth as he fucked me. "Getting closer," John warned. "Don't cum. Just slide it in me for a few more seconds before you pull out. You're my first ever poz cock. I want it to last as long as possible," I responded, only to be met by a grunt from John. "How close are you now?" I asked as John tongue fucked my toes while he poz fucked my ass. "Pretty close," John answered, fucking me deeply, adding "Whoa, stop, stop, don't move," as he buried his cock inside me to the hilt, his balls slapping my ass. Then he bit down on my toes, chewing them gently as he closed his eyes. I could feel his cock throbbing in my ass as we both held still, John moaning and sighing. "Got too close and had to stop?" I asked, rubbing my big toe on John's tongue. "Fuck yeah. I nearly nutted up in side you then," John answered. I lifted my ass up off his cock and slid back down onto it again, grinding my ass onto his erection buried deep inside me. "Careful,' he said, grinding into me, adding "I'm really close." "How close? Could you cum in five strokes?" I asked, pulling my ass up and slamming it back onto his cock again. He tensed inside me, grinding up into my bowels trying to burrow deeper with his cock. "I dunno. Do you want to risk it?" he said pulling out and sliding back in counting off "One." "Go on. Go to five," I answered, pushing my toes again into his mouth. He slid in and out as I counted "Two..., ugh..., three... ughhhh..., four..., ughhhh... five....' I said as he slid in and out slowly. "Well, I didn't cum,' he said, grinding hard into my guts with his cock. "Then keep fucking me," I responded, pushing my foot into his mouth and gripping his tongue with my toes. He pulled-out and slid back in again. "One...' he said, adding "how many strokes do I get this time?" as he slid out and fucked back in, hard, balls-deep, "...two...," he said. "Just keep fucking me," I replied, pulling my ass off his cock and sliding it back down. He slid in and out repeatedly, quietly counting as he fucked. "Three... four... five... six...." "Stop counting," I ordered. John fucked me gently, in silence, and then sped-up, his balls slapping my ass. "But keep fucking?" he asked. After ten or more thrusts, he rammed his raw, poz cock deep inside my ass. "Fuck, John, keep fucking me. Don't stop," I ordered, again pushing my toes into his mouth. "I'm going to cum," he said, pushing my feet into my chest as he bent me in half to fuck me harder, slamming into my guts over and over, asking "Where do you want it?" "Cum inside me." He lifted my feet up to his face and sucked my toes again. "Are you sure?' he asked, all the while fucking hilt deep and brutally hard, warning "I'm about to cum. I didn't reply. As he moaned and closed his eyes, I grabbed his ass cheeks and pulled his cock into me. John bucked his hips as his balls pulled up tight in their sack. "Cum in me, John. Oh god, cum inside me," I answered. "Here it comes. FUCKING TAKE MY LOAD, YOU LITTLE NEG STUDENT BOY WHORE. YEAH, FUCK.' he hoarsely grunted. Then he bent over, putting his face next to mine as he unloaded deep inside me, asking "Can you feel my cock expanding? I'm cumming inside you." He took the condom which I was still clutching, and tossed it on to the floor, saying "My dirty sperm is right up in your guts. What would your doctor friends say?" as he finished-off his orgasm, his cock still buried in my guts. After a few seconds John pulled his cock out of my ass, resting his helmet at my hole, coating his fat mushroom tip in his sperm, he rubbed it round my ring and pushed his cum covered cock back inside me, fucking my cum filled ass for a minute or two as he came down off his cum. "Working it deep up into you boy. What does your medical student knowledge say about that?" John asked, grinding deep up into me with his cock. "John, fuck, oh god, pull it out. I've gotta go shit out your load." With that John finally let me slide off his cock. I stood up, naked, my bare feet cold on the floor, as John's toxic cum ran down my leg. John stood up in front of me, our cocks touching. As we stood face to face, he held our cocks together in his hand and stroked them, while his other hand slid round behind me and fingered my cummy hole. "You probably should shit that out," John suggested, ramming two fingers into my guts and swirling them around in his load up inside my guts. "Oh fuck..." I responded as John scraped my prostate with his finger nails. "...or, you could just fuck me quickly first, you must be gagging to blow a load after taking your first poz cock," John responded, turning round and bending over the bed, pulling his ass cheeks apart. i had a strange, out-of-body moment. i looked down at his rosebud ass, looked at my bare feet, curling my toes on the cold floor, cum dripping down my ankle and onto my foot where it had leaked out my ass. Then I looked at my hard, dripping, angry, cock, my mushroom helmet purple. It was so hard. "Well?" John asked. i stepped forward and pushed my helmet into his ass. "Good boy," John said.

Tallallman, please, let me publicly hug you, IMHO you haven't done nothing of wrong. I 'm sure you like this story as I do and it is natural that a supporter would post his contribute (and your second pic was very hot, thanks).

See you Friday night then... ??

Hope I see him this weekend

https://www.xtube.com/video-watch/quickie-with-sir-22395332 QUICKIE WITH SIR Sir bends me over doggy style to bury his raw dick deep inside. However, it doesn't take long before my tight bubble butt pushes him over the edge and he covers my ass with his hot cum.

PART 8 　 What had I really done now? My ass was on fire from a beautiful pounding but then the guy tells me he has AIDS. I saw his fingernails and knew he had cut me up inside and the dumped his load in me. I was going to get HIV. What the hell, but my ass was still tingling and for some reason my cock was still hard as a rock. Why was I so turned on? Damn, I felt like I needed more now. Then someone walked into the clearing. I started to reach down to grab my clothes when he said, "Might as well leave them there," and as I looked up he was pulling his clothes off too. His cock was already hard and sticking straight out and I stood there mesmerized by it swinging as he approached me. He grabbed me and turned me around and pushed at my back to bend over. I offered no resistance and did it. Then I felt him just drive his cock deep into in one thrust and felt his balls hit my taint. Then he was thrusting in and out of me as hard as I had ever had it. He was literally trying to destroy my hole and I was loving every second of it. He didn't last long though, maybe about 5 minutes and then he was saying, "Here it comes. My nice hot POZ cum to fill your ass up good." I could feel his cock pulsing and refilling my ass with HIV cum. As he finished and was pulling out, I noticed that three more guys had showed up. They all had their cocks out and were jacking them, waiting their turn on my abused hole. I didn't even straighten up as the cock was pulled out of my ass and soon another one was deep in me. I could only wonder at how great it was feeling. I wanted more and more and soon had three more loads of cum up me. Each of them screaming as they were cumming, "Take my poz load you whore." 　 Noone else showed up so I got dressed and staggerd to my car. My ass was destroyed and was now starting to hurt some with all the pounding it had taken, but it was also throbbing with a need for more, soon.

5. "You need another hit from the pipe," TJ said. "I do?" I asked. My head was swimming already. I had already done more tina than I had planned, done more poppers than I wanted, and now TJ was suggesting that I continue the process. "Yeah," TJ said. "Get you to the next level." Before I could protest, he had stuck the pipe in my mouth, and was already adjusting the flame on the torch. "Tweaked out faggot boy," he said, as I started to inhale the thick clouds. "Make it good for me," he said. I focused on the pipe and the tendrils of white vapor forming in the bowl. It was far easier than the alternative, which was to focus on my now empty hole. The loads from the three different men were mixing inside of me. My body was absorbing the sperm, learning and incorporating the jizz into a permanent part of me. I would never be able to say I was a pure white man again. "That's what I want from you," TJ said, as I sucked on the pipe. "Get you properly fucked up for a fucked-up night." My lungs were nearly at bursting, and I paused for a moment. "Little bit more," TJ said. I took one last gasp from the pipe. Mercifully, TJ took the pipe from me, rather than forcing me to ask the black man to stop forcing drugs on me. "Now, hold it for me," TJ said. "Focus on my cockhead," he continued, guiding my head back down to his dark, hard shaft. I was getting used to TJ's cock, and this time, the head slid in easily. "Just the cockhead," TJ said, reminding me to not go too deep on the cock. I ran my tongue around the thick head, savoring the pre-cum that was dripping from his piss slit. In the moment, it didn't matter that TJ was black. "Fuck that's good," TJ said. All that mattered was that I was able to give him some pleasure. "Ooph," I said, finally unable to hold my breath any longer. I exhaled, and the thick cloud obscured my head and TJ's dick for a moment. I was suddenly aware that the door was still open. Anyone walking by could see that we were partying. Not that it was a problem; everyone at the club was probably on at least something, if not several drugs. "That's nice," TJ said, and gently guided my head back to his cockhead. "Feels good. Your mouth on my dick." I took the tip into my mouth and licked off a bead of pre-cum. I didn't care that it was pre-cum from a black cock. I didn't even care that the door was wide open and anyone walking by could see me servicing a black man. All that was important was that it was a pre-cum and I was the lucky cocksucker who got to lick it up. "Just keep on doing that," TJ said. I obliged, working my way up and down his shaft, teasing out a few more drops of pre-cum. "You need another hit," TJ said. I shook my head. I had done more tina than I was used to, and it was time for me to slow down. "No," TJ said, contradicting me. "You need another hit." The tone was clear; I had no choice in the matter. I slowly pulled off his cock, carefully lapping up all the mixed pre-cum and spit from his shaft. TJ had the pipe ready, and as soon as my mouth was empty of his dick, he stuck the glass stem in my mouth. "I want you to do a nice big hit," he said. He held the torch under the bowl and carefully heated it up. It seemed like it should have been empty by that point, but the bowl quickly filled up with the thick white clouds. I inhaled slowly but deeply. Like sucking off the black men, getting fucked by a Latino, or all the other things I had done that night, I knew I was doing something I would regret later. But in the heat of the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do. "That's it, cocksucker. Show me what you can do with a glass cock." I stayed focused on the pipe, making sure that as soon as the bowl re-filled, I drained it. "Damn, that's hot. Seeing you suck down those clouds," TJ said. He was smiling, and I wondered what he had planned for me next. Finally, my lungs were filled. I nodded. TJ shook his head. "I know you can do more," he said. "Hungry faggot like you," he continued, and left the torch under the bowl and the pipe in my mouth. I gasped and inhaled even more of the thick clouds. At this point, there was no more air in my lungs; it was all drugs. "That's it. That little extra is going to send you flying," TJ said, and finally, mercifully, removed the pipe from my mouth. He guided my head down to his dick and then started to suck on the pipe himself. "Oh yeah," he grunted, careful not to lose too much of the drug. "Fucking good stuff." As I sucked on his cock, he took a long hit from the pipe. One hand, he used to adjust the torch, but the other rested on the top of my head, just in case I had any doubts about my job at the moment. It was obvious that he wanted me to hold the hit. I did just that, even as I wondered if I would pass out from lack of air. Finally, I couldn't hold it any longer, and I exhaled my hit. "That's it," TJ said. "Get you up in the clouds." I dared to look up at him briefly and saw him staring off into the distance. TJ's eyes were glazed over in that familiar haze of drug-induced pleasure, where all that mattered to him was the pipe and my mouth on his dick. "Mmmmmm," he moaned, as my mouth went back down on his thick, dark shaft. "Just what I'm needing right now," he continued. I looked up and saw him exhale a thick cloud. Even as high as I was, I couldn't help but want a little more of those wonderful white clouds, and the way they pushed our boundaries and limits. "One more, I think," TJ said, as he stuck the pipe back in his mouth. It was another leisurely hit from the pipe, making sure that his lungs were filled with the white clouds. I wanted to make him feel good as he held the hit, so I forced myself as far down on his dick as I could. Although I only made it about two thirds of the way, he still grunted appreciatively, and pushed my head a bit further down. I fought off the urge to gag. "Mmmmm," he groaned again, as he finally put the pipe and torch down. I glanced up. His eyes were closed as he enjoyed the simple pleasures of getting head. There was enough light from the open door for me to see the smile playing on his face. Finally, he exhaled, and his head was enveloped by the cloud. By the time it drifted down towards the floor, TJ's eyes were open, and he was staring down at me. "Fuck," he said. "This is damn good shit. And you're not a half bad cocksucker, either." My stomach did a flip when he complimented me, as perverted as it seemed to be happy about a nigger complimenting me on my talents sucking his dick. "You think you're ready for a nigger to fuck you?" he asked me. I pulled off of his dick, just long enough to confirm I had heard him properly. "You want to fuck me?" I asked. "Me?" he answered, albeit slowly. There was the languid pace of speaking that I knew was how some men responded to the drugs. I ran my tongue around his cock. He deserved nothing less than my utter devotion to his ebony shaft. "Me?" he asked again. "No. Not yet. Waiting for the magic hour." "Magic hour?" I asked. "Yeah," TJ said. "Magic hour. You'll know when it is. But don't worry. It's not for a while yet. Plenty of time for you to have fun." "Yeah?" I asked, and went back down on TJ's cock, waiting for him to explain more. The room grew darker. It took me a moment to realize that it was someone standing in the door. "He as good of a cocksucker as he looks?" the stranger said. I started to turn my head to get a glimpse of him, but TJ put his hand on my skull and held me in place. "Oh yeah," TJ said. "And his ass has been pretty popular as well." "Fuck," he said. There was a bit of an accent to his voice, almost French, but with a hint of a song. "That's hot. Bareback?" "Is there any other way to fuck?" "I gotta breed a hole," the stranger said. "Knock that faggot up." "That's what he's here for," TJ said. "Just a hole for our pleasure." The stranger was now behind me, his cock pressing up against my asshole. Unlike the earlier men, I could tell he was circumcised. There was not the softness of the foreskin cloaking the stiffness of his phallus. This time, there was no buffer between me and the stranger. "Right on," the stranger said. "That what I think it is?" he asked. Even though my lips were still wrapped around TJ's dick and I was staring at his curly black bush, it was obvious that the stranger was talking about the glass pipe. "Yeah. You want a hit?" "Hell yeah," the stranger said. "First things first though." From somewhere unknown, he produced a bottle of lube, and let a few cold drops of it land on my hole. "He's got a few loads up there already. Not sure you'll need that." "So much the better." In a gap in the music, I heard the bottle land on the bed next to me. His cock pressed up against my hole. The three men who had fucked me had done their job well. My hole was open and loose, and at best, I could only put up a token resistance to his thick cock invading me. "Everything is better when it's the way Allah intended it," the man said. "Allah," he had said. The accent was Arab, from the former French colonies. I had been fucked by two Latinos, a Greek, and now a Muslim. When TJ had said I would be fucked by all the colors of the rainbow, he had not been kidding. "Allah," he had said. His dick had slid into me easily. The accumulated cum had lubricated its passage, and I could feel his balls slapping against my ass. I was continuing down a bad path: I was letting men of all ethnicities and religions fuck me. I wanted the familiar pleasure of a white cock, a good Christian cock, not this sand nigger forcing himself on me. "Here you go," TJ said, passing the party supplies to the latest stranger pounding my hole. "Nice," the stranger said. There was the familiar hiss of the torch, then the slowing of his strokes as he took the deep breaths of the drug. "Fuuuuck," he moaned, then pushed his dick further into me. "Fuuuuck," he moaned again, pulled out, and slammed back into me. "Fucking nice hole," he said. The tina cloud drifted down over my head. "Do another," TJ said. The stranger shoved his dick in to me; at the moment, I was little more than a dick holster for him as he got tweaked out on the crystal I had brought. It was a good feeling, making him happy in so many ways. "And don't hold back on this faggot's ass. He's due for a good fucking tonight." "Oh yeah," the stranger said. "Gonna make him feel like the faggot he is." I already felt like a worthless faggot. My throat was stuffed full of Black cock, my ass was dripping with Latino cum and it was stuffed full of Arab cock. It was hard to imagine getting any lower than being a plaything for these virile, horny, hungry ethnic men. I was a white man. These men should be taking care of me. The anger flared for a moment, but only for a moment. My thoughts were intense but fleeting. The stranger pushed his dick deeper into me, and my imagination jumped to the possibilities of an Arab cock deep in my gut. "Oh, I think he feels like that already," TJ said. The torch was hissing, so I didn't expect a reply from the stranger. TJ continued. "Don't you? Cock in both holes. Must be in faggot heaven." I nodded in agreement, feeling TJ's dick press against my throat as I moved my head. "Fuck," TJ moaned as I did so. "That feels good." He pushed my head down, making me take a few more inches of his dick. I fought back the urge to gag; TJ deserved better than me rejecting his shaft like that. "Ins ‘Allah," the stranger said. "How much cum does he have? He's so wet." "Just a fucking slut, getting what he needs," TJ said. A white cloud floated past my head. I heard the torch again. The stranger was doing a third hit. The horrible tweaker need kicked in, and I wanted that hit to be mine. I didn't want him smoking all of my stuff. "Yeah. Get what you need," TJ said. "I've got plenty more." I had forgotten that TJ had been smoking his own pipe. He must have at least a bit more crystal. Even a small amount would be enough to keep the party going for a few more hours. There was a pause. I could hear only the loudest of the puffs from the pipe over the music. The music had shifted. It was no longer the thumping techno music. Now, it was a deep house mix of a 1970s era sleazy porn movie soundtrack. I wondered if it was a harbinger of what the night had in store for me. "Oh god this is a hot fucking hole," the stranger finally said, as the clouds slowly filled the room. "Use it," TJ said. He took the pipe back from the stranger. The Arab put his hands on my hips and start truly to pound my hole. It was intense enough that I had to brace myself to keep from totally impaling my throat on TJ's dick. I wasn't totally successful, and another two inches of TJ's shaft disappeared into my throat. This time I wasn't completely successful in repressing my gag reflex. TJ leaned in, holding my head in his hands and forcing me to keep his cock buried in my throat. "Fight through it, faggot" TJ said. "This is what you were born to do." "OH FUCK," the stranger said. "This is fucking amazing. His ass. Milking my dick." "Yeah?" TJ asked. "You like that? "Oh, hell yeah," the stranger said. "Well, not hard to make it happen again." "Fuckin' A'," he said. "Bring it fucking on." "Better get him ready for it," TJ said. He fumbled on the bed and found the bottle of poppers. "Big hit for me, cocksucker. Then all the way down." I nodded dumbly. It was hard to believe that this was happening to me, and I wasn't just watching a nasty porn movie. But it was hard to deny the sheer reality of it. Buried in my throat and my ass was a dark, hard cock; coursing through my veins was far too much tina, and now under my nose was a fresh bottle of poppers. "Hold it for me," TJ continued, as he took the bottle away and screwed the cap back on. He dropped the bottle on the bed, then rested his hands on the top of my head. I gulped a little extra air, then swallowed. TJ's cock slid smoothly into my throat and before I realized it, two thirds of his black shaft where nestled deep in my throat. "Ready?" he asked; it was unclear if the question was directed at me or the Arab man. I nodded, although it was far more acquiescence than agreement. "I've been ready," the Arab said. With the permission from the both of us, TJ pushed down on my head, forcing his cock deeper into my throat, way my point of comfort. The results were immediate and exactly what I feared. My body rebelled against the invasion, and I was racked with visceral discomfort and agony. "Oh, fuck yeah," he said, as he slammed his dick in and out of me. "Fucking milk my dick. Make me cum in that slutty white hole of yours." TJ relented for a second, and I gasped for air. I remembered wondering if he had really just called me a slut. But then, I tried to count the men that had fucked me. There was the first stranger. Then there was Jose, and then Demitri. That didn't even count the anonymous black cocks I had serviced at the glory hole, or the very first man, TJ, in the back room of where I worked. The latest stranger was right. I was a slut. I tried to say it in my head. "I'm a slut," but I couldn't do it. Despite the reality of my position, I couldn't quite admit it to myself. However, my brief moment of clarity was quickly yanked from me. It had only been enough time to take a quick gasp, before TJ pushed me back down on his cock. "Make me feel good, cocksucker," TJ said. "Wanna see you choke on all of it." "You think he can take it all?" the other guy asked. "I know he can. Because I'm gonna fucking make him take it all." TJ was leaning in, pushing me further down on his cock. I was struggling against him, trying to do anything but have his dick buried in my throat. He pressed his face up close to my ear. "Don't fight it," he said. "It's going to happen. And if you don't fight, you might be able to enjoy it." I froze. "Hell yeah, faggot," the stranger said. "This is gonna be a night to remember." TJ pushed my head down. Before I realized what was happening, another inch of TJ's thick cock disappeared into my mouth, and his cockhead pushed further into my throat. Even if it took me a moment to understand what had happened, my body's response was immediate. I started to gag uncontrollably as spit and drool dripping out of my mouth and down TJ's shaft while I fought to regain my composure. "Fuck," the stranger said, as his dick slid deep into my ass. "Fuck," he repeated. "Yeah?" TJ said. "You gonna breed the faggot?" "Fuck yeah," he replied, as his pace picked up and his dick hardened. I was still desperate for some relief; TJ's dick was almost completely buried in my throat, and I couldn't remember the last time I had breathed air. But, I realized that my body's spasms of discomfort must have felt like the most intense dick massage the man had ever gotten. "You've got me fucking on edge." "Breed him," TJ said. "That's what the faggot is here for." He leaned in towards me. "Aren't you faggot? Here for a real man's pleasure?" I nodded as best I could. TJ's dick was uncontrollably slipping deeper into my throat and it dripped pre-cum directly into my stomach as it continued to choke off my airways. It felt like I was getting precariously close to passing out, but the promised oblivion never arrived. Instead, seconds stretched into an eternity as the stranger's cock slid in and out of my body, and TJ's cock bored its way deeper in my throat. "This feels fucking awesome," the stranger said. "I'm going to remember this." "Go for it," TJ said. "Mark your territory." "Oh, fuck yeah," the Arab said. In my heightened state of awareness, I was acutely attuned to his every action and motion. His dick had been thickening and the drip of pre-cum was now a steady stream of thick man-juice. "Getting close," he admitted. "Do it," TJ said. The top of my nose was brushing against his wiry black pubes. I had swallowed almost all of his dick. I felt like I was going to be sick, but whether it was from the throat fucking or the utter humiliation of gagging on a nigger dick, it was hard to tell. "That's it faggot. Take all of my big black cock." "He fucking swallowed it all," the stranger said. He slammed his cock into me. "And took all of my rod. Fucking slut," he continued. He pulled his dick out and forced it back into me. "Fucking slut," he repeated, as he repeated his actions. "Fucking take my load." His cock twitched, spasmed, and spurted. A jet of sperm shot down the length and directly into my raw hole. I had taken one more strange man's load, which was just another step down the dark and depraved path I now found myself on. "Give it to him," TJ said. "Make him feel you breed him." "Inshallah," the stranger said. Another surge of pressure traced the length of his dick, landing deep in my hole. "Inshallah," he repeated, even as he was inseminating another man. I wondered if this quiet prayer would be heard, and if it was, what would be his god's response to it. "Inshallah," he said once more, as another jet of sperm landed in my ass. "Fill him up. Breed that slut hole of his." "Inshallah," he repeated. The sperm was flowing freely from his cock. As TJ had commanded him, he was marking my hole with his seed, making me his personal fuck toy. "Fuck," he muttered, as the spurts grew less intense. "Hole milked my balls dry," he said. "Right on," TJ said. Mercifully, he released his grip on my skull. I took the opportunity and gasped for breath, unsure what TJ or the stranger had planned for me next. "Made that hole yours, huh?" "Fuck," the Arab said. "Faggot hole sucked that load out of me." "Feels good," TJ said. "Doesn't it? That feeling when your balls are totally drained of cum." "You know it," he said. "Gonna sleep well tonight." He slowly pulled out of my hole. The chance to breathe freely had not diminished the acuity of my senses; I could feel every drop of the accumulated jizz ooze past his cockhead as he pulled out. It was an amazing feeling, but it was also painfully obvious that this was the feeling of subjugation. It was hard to imagine how much lower I could go than to have some anonymous Muslim guy fuck me raw and cum in me as a black man choked me with his dick. "Big load?" TJ asked. "More than enough to lube him up for you," the stranger laughed. "Oh, it's going to be a while before he gets this up his ass." TJ shook his dick, even as his cockhead was still lodged in my mouth. I eagerly swallowed the extra few drops of pre-cum that leaked out. "I still have his throat to destroy." "Won't be able to talk in the morning." "All a faggot needs to know how to say is 'Please,'" TJ said. I couldn't see his face, but his tone betrayed not the slightest hint of hilarity. "Twisted," the stranger said. He had just the head of his dick still inside me. "You're a hot, sick fuck." His dickhead fell out of my ass. A bit of jizz dribbled out. It was warm, but it quickly cooled down as it dribbled down my leg. He slapped me on the ass. "Hope you know what you got yourself into," he said to me. He stepped off the bed and wrapped the towel around his waist. "Door open?" he asked TJ. "Open. Gotta find the cocksucker more dick." "Nasty, twisted faggot," the Arab said. His voice was clearer, less muddled than earlier. The fuck-fog was starting to clear, and he had a moment of lucidity. "Sick," he muttered.

5. Trophies “You fuckin’ idiot!” He heard a voice from far away. He coughed, threw his hands up to his throat. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You trying to kill him before he even does the job?” He heard the same far away voice, incredulous, like it was shouted in a long, echoing tunnel. Chris rasped in several breath before he trusted he was breathing again. He sat up in bed naked, still high as fuck, but was alone in the master bedroom. The men had left him, and sounded like they were downstairs arguing. “So I got carried away,” he heard Polanski trying to defend himself. “You get carried away. Look at the way you offed the Bailey family. One by one, Brody. One by one. You ain’t no Saint Sanity when you get worked up. How many pieces’ that Tony kid in now? How many fingers did you cut off, how many ears, and whatever, before you just went and slit their throats? That wasn’t just for the old man’s benefit and you know it. You liked it! You was enjoying yourself.” Chris was trying unsuccessfully to process the evening. How much time had passed since he blacked out? Johnny Carson was on TV doing his opening monologue. It couldn’t have been that long. Still flying, not a lot of things made sense. Then, like someone had flipped a light switch, the pieces of the night fit. The last he’d heard on the television news, the sewer pipe, the two cons, they were right here. Chris crawled off the bed. On hands and knees he crept to the staircase to observe the men. They were in their boxers again. “Listen, you dumb shit. That was to get the dirty cop to squeal where he stashed it. It worked, didn’t it?” Bailey, Don, Brody, whatever his name was, he was no cop. He smacked Polanski in his forehead. “Think, dumb shit. Be smart.” Then he said in a low voice, “If you want to snuff the kid, wait till he brings out the stash, then you can have all the sick motherfuckin’ fun you want. But you almost fucked up what was pretty complicated set up to begin with. Drax would have had both us skinned alive, and I do mean skinned! We seen him do it to that poor fuck Jackson.” Polanski shivered. “So what now?” he said, starting to pace nervously around the room. “So now you go up, and hope the kid recovers. Then you beg him to forgive you, hope he ain’t dead or damaged, and will still do the job for us. You kiss his ass, suck his cock, and do whatever it takes.” “We gonna be straight with him?” “We gotta, but he don’t need to know everything. I’ll do the talking. He’ll trust me more than you, but you gotta make it up to him. Be his pal. You been a mean fuck ever since we busted in on him. Play nice.” They both looked up the staircase. Chris ducked back quickly in the dark hallway. He scurried back to the bedroom, got on the bed, and played possum on his side as the men came back into the room. Polanski got on the bed and shook his shoulder. “Hey, kid,” he said, “kid, you still with us?” Chris faked like he was stirring, throwing his hands to his neck like someone was choking him and sat up in panic. “Nah, nah, you’re okay,” Polanski said nervously. “Things just got a little out of hand, but you’re okay now. Man, I sure am high. How ‘bout you?” “Yeah,” Chris said hoarsely. “You were choking me.” He shoved Polanski away with both hands. “Yeah, nah, I was just playin’, but like Brody knows, I sometimes get carried away. I play too rough.” “Brody?” Chris asked confused. “Ah, geez,” Brody, as Polanski now called him, sighed and put his head in his hand. He sat down on the other side of the bed and put his hand on Chris’ back. “Yeah, we gotta come clean with you kid. We ain’t no cops.” “What?” Chris said in disbelief. “If you’re not the cops, who are you?” Brody laid out it out for Chris. “Nicky and I are ex-cons. We were just released from upstate after doing our time. And the first thing we do is we come pay a visit to the guy who set us up, the crooked cop who lives here. He’d been skimming money off the top for years from the man we work for. A Mister Jones.” “Mr. Jones?” “Well, that ain’t his real name, but better you don’t know.” Brody went on with his story with Chris pretending to hang on every word. “So the dirty cop’s family is away, okay? So we bust in on him. We had to get pretty rough with him, but he finally admitted that he did a bad thing and that he had the money squirreled away in the house, in the duct work. So Mr. Jones instructs us to use Bailey’s uniform and police stuff to get you to come out to Flushing to help us get the stash. Seems like he had his little kid go deep in the ducts and hide the goods where big guys like us can’t get to it, so the only way to get it is for a little guy like you to get it for us. You’re like part of our gang now.” “Did you kill Manetti,” asked Chris, honestly fearing the answer. “Nah,” Brody said. “He hadda done it himself. You seen the place was chained from the inside. Mr. Jones used that as an excuse for us to show up.” “Yeah, and I’m real sorry. I was playing too hard. But it’s ‘cause I like you. I think you’re really sexy and hot for a little skinny guy, and I got a thing for breath control. It’s just a thing I got.” “Yeah,” said Brody, “and it looked like you maybe got a thing for it too now by how much you came all over me.” “Yeah, I don’t think I like it,” Chris said, rubbing his neck. “Nah, nah,” said Polanski. “Not a lot of guys do, and if you, I mean you, me and Brody ever was to, you know, go at it again, and I hope we do, ‘cause the dirty cop ain’t coming back anytime soon,” he said darkly, “so maybe, once we get the stash, maybe we can mess around again, if you want, but only if you want.” “And no choking,” Brody added, running his hand up and down Chris’ back. “Just fun stuff. I like you too. You’ve got a hot little hole like I rarely seen, and a real sexy little bubble butt, which if we didn’t have a job to do, I could right now, cause I’m still horny, right now fuck you again.” It was true. Both men were getting a rise in their shorts. “Yeah,” said Polanski, getting back to business. “But we gotta finish the job, right Brody?” “Nah, you’re right Nicky. So, kiddo, what you say? You part of our gang, help us pull out the money? Then we get back here,” Brody padded the bed, “and we go at it for round two?” “You’d let me be part of your gang?” Chris asked. Both men nodded. “Would I get some of the money?” Polanski raised a brow and looked at Brody. Brody gave him a look back and said to Chris, “Sure, sure. Being in the gang means you get a cut. But we have to give most of it back to Mr. Jones. You understand that, right?” “I guess. I never been in a gang before. And then we can get back here and have more sex? Cause right up till the choking, I really liked it. I never been double fucked before. I guess this’ll be night of firsts.” There was so much untruth dripping all around, as they all looked at each other they all knew they were full of shit, but had to buy it to keep up the ruse.“So let’s do this,” said Chris. They went downstairs and out to the garage. The men’s tools were laid out on the floor near a vent next to the washing machine. The grate was off. Brody gave Chris a small flashlight and a map of the ductwork maze where the cop had his son hide the money. Chris got down on his hands and knees and crawled inside. Even for him it was a tight fit. The two men leered as his ass scuttled away from them. Brody said, shining his flashlight on Chris’ butt admiringly, “Let’s get this done quickly ‘cause I gotta have some of that pretty pussy again.” “Yeah, boy,” Polanski called through the duct, “Taking both our kielbasas means you’re ready for another game I like even better than choking called fisting.” Brody hit Polanski on his forehead again, but Chris had already rounded his first corner and his head was busy sorting through his options. All that stuff his brother had told him came back. Plan B. Look for a way out. They were going to kill him, he was certain of that, so how was he going to make an escape. Here he was, naked crawling through ductwork. If he manage to get out he’d be running down the street naked yelling for help. Well, that was the least of his problems. From the moment both of the men had their hands on him, he felt they were never going to let him out of their site even for one second. Except now. It had to be now or never. Looking at the map there was one tunnel that led to the HVAC system’s main unit in the basement. If he got down to there, he might be able to crawl out one of the basement windows. He scurried the direction he was sure was the route to the basement. It didn’t take him long but once he got down to the basement level he found the only vent into the room was sealed with a grate. He stomped his foot at it. It didn’t budge. He tried again and again, making an awful racket. Brody shouted into the vent what was the matter? He kick against the grate with all his might and it popped off. Nothing, he shouted back. He saw a rat and had to scare it away. He slipped out of the vent and landed on the cold cement. The floor was kind of sticky and slippery. In the dim room he saw the basement windows glowing from the outside streetlights. He went over to one of the windows and unlatched it. It was a lot narrower than he thought, only about six inches high. He was small but not that narrow. Plan B. He walked over to the staircase and again felt the floor was slick and sticky. Once he climbed to the top of the stairs he tried to open the basement door but it was bolted. There wasn’t a latch he could open. A key had to be used to open the door on either side. There must be a key down here somewhere. He felt around for the light switch and flipped it on. The basement was a horror show! Four bodies in various stages of dismemberment were tied to metal folding chairs all facing each other. They were all naked. A blond woman with several knife wounds on various parts of her body was nearest to the stairs. The crooked cop, the one Chris now recognized from the Disney photo, was as big as Brody, was tied up next to her. His neck was sliced ear to ear. Most of the floor’s blood looked to be his, although each family member contributed to the gore. The oldest boy was the one Polanski had talked about. Three of his fingers on his left hand and all the fingers on his right were clipped by garden sheers lying bloodied on the ground. His neck was also sliced. But what was done to the little kid that freaked him out the most, caused him to give up on this particular plan B, of getting out through the basement. As Chris got back into the vent he tried to un-see what he’d seen. The kid he was so envious of? No one deserved a fate like that. In the dark, he follow the map again. He tried to keep his mind on the task at hand, but he kept seeing the kid’s agonized face. Both ears had been clipped, his blond hair matted in red blood. In his mouth, his ears peeked out. As Chris got close to his goal, where there was an X on the map, one glimpse, one flash he tried to push away, but couldn’t: the imprinted image of kid’s bloody crotch. His eyes refused to focus on the particulars of where the blood had come from. He didn’t need to. He knew. Then there, in front of him, was the black briefcase. What kind of psychopaths was he dealing with? What reason could they have to produce such a nightmare? He flipped the clasps and opened it in the narrow vent. Stacks of hundreds neatly lined the case. He was no math wiz, but a quick count of rows times columns times ten stacks deep. The crooks had two million reasons. There was a banging on the metal, and Brody shouted what was taking so long. While he gazed at the money, he shouted he’d gotten to a dead end and got lost. He closed the clasps and turned around in the vent. He added that the map wasn’t accurate but he’d found the briefcase. He was freaked but he knew he couldn’t show it. As he started retracing his steps, he saw there were streaks of blood he’d trailed in from the basement. He had to wipe it off. He re-opening the briefcase and took out a couple of hundreds and cleaned his feet. He had a couple of spots on his knees and hands too, so he took out another couple of bills and wiped himself off with those. It didn’t take long to get back to Brody and Polanski. He pushed the briefcase out and Polanski grab it. Polanski couldn’t help himself and cracked the briefcase. All three of them stared at the contents. Brody was the first to speak. “Holy mother of Christ.” He put his hand on Chris’ butt and started rubbing it. “I think this calls for a celebration fuck. Who’s up for a nightcap?” They flashed glances at one another, and Brody took his finger and felt up Chris’ hole. “Ah, boy. We’re going to have to give you a special reward.” Brody and Polanski shared an evil grin. While they were climbing the stairs back to the bedroom, Brody asked, “So the map was really off?” “Big time,” Chris answered. “The stuff wasn’t where the X was and the layout wasn’t right. That’s what took me so long.” Brody set the briefcase next to the door. “So,” said Brody, “whiskeys on the house.” Chris asked if he could have one. “Sure,” Polanski said. “You earned it, didn’t he Brody?” Brody gave a nod. Chris trotted into the bathroom and brought back a glass. Brody had taken off his boxers and was playing absently with his enormous member. Polanski was around. “Where’s Nick?” he asked starting to pour drinks. “Dunno,” Brody responded, staring at the TV. Johnny Carson was joking around with Joan Rivers. “Hey,” he said lumbering off the bed, “We need a better show. How ‘bout you entertain us while you entertain us?” “Huh?” asked Chris as he poured the final glass. “I want to see how Manetti played with you while we play with you. I got the tape downstairs.” He went to fetch it. He had only a few seconds. Manetti’s drug box was on the cart. He opened it and took out the bottle of G and spit the contents between two of the drinks. He replaced the vial in the box, just when Polanski reappeared. “Crisco!” the man announced. “Promise I’m gonna curl your toes.” Chris gave Polanski his shark smile. “I feel ‘em curling already.” He handed Polanski his whiskey. Brody came in holding the VHS tape and popped it in the VCR and pushed play. Chris handed him his drink, as the familiar grunts of Manetti fucking him played in the background. Brody held up his glass. “We, who are about to die, salute you.” They both looked at Chris and each of them downed their glasses in one gulp. The two men squished their faces. Chris followed suit and stuck out his tongue making a gah sound, which made the men laugh. Polanski grabbed the almost empty bottle. “How about a chaser for a job well done, and to the newest member of our gang.” He divided the remains between them. “Bottoms up!” They raised their glasses again and kicked them back. “Okay, bottom. Up!” he ordered Chris. “On your back, head here,” Polanski barked. “Knees up.” Not used to hard alcohol, the whiskey got to Chris’ head pretty quickly. Combined with the earlier crystal, he was starting to feel spaced and horny. He got on the bed, listening to Manetti fuck him on TV. He forced his mind not to think about Manetti, but focused instead on Polanski. Even though he didn’t like the guy he was a sexy fucker. Brody knelt next to him and pushed his head toward his erection. Polanski greased two fingers and slipped them into Chris’ asshole. It felt good to have Polanski in his chute. Not liking him somehow made him harder. He bore down on Polanski’s fingers and took them right down to the knuckles. Polanski said to Brody, “This kid’s a natural. Look at this.” He greased up four fingers and slipped them with no resistance into Chris. Brody gave out an excited moan. “How ‘bout being a real pig, kid. Eat daddy’s hole.” He raised himself from feeding Chris his dick and lifted one leg over Chris’ head and sat his hairy butt on his face. “Dig in there, pig boy. Clean daddy’s dingleberries.” He complied eagerly, using his hands to spread Brody’s cheeks further apart, using his tongue to untangle each strand of clotted hair. The closer he came to Brody’s asshole, the more hardened fecal matter he found. Polanski added his thumb and Chris felt his whole hand pressing at his entrance. Again, he bore down and his asslips swallowed all of Polanski’s hand. “Woo-ee,” shouted Polanski. He wasn’t patient or caring like Manetti, he didn’t wait for Chris to adjust to his hand, just began pulling his hand out and pushing it back in again. Chris yowled under Brody’s ass each time Polanski yanked out his hand. He raised his hand to tell Polanski to take it easy, but Brody grabbed them both. Brody’s ass was firmly on his face, and the big man started rutting impatiently for Chris to get his tongue deeper his hole. When Chris traced his tongue around his asslips, the man gave out a huge farted. The skin vibrated lewdly on his mouth and Brody grabbed his head so Chris couldn’t get away. The smell was foul but he was stuck smelling it. Polanski was picking up the pace, pulling one of Chris’ legs over his muscular shoulders to get Chris to spread of his legs wider. The violent punching was winning. The helplessness of being pinned up such a big hair butt and his legs force apart while his hole was being wrecked, caused Chris to surrender completely. Polanski took the surrender to increase his attack, pulling out fiercely. He stopped for a second to admire the red pedals of the rosebud he was creating. “That’s it boy, push!” shouted Polanski, tapping on the rectum that was coming out of its hole. “I want some of that,” Brody said woozily, getting off Chris’ face. He scuttled down to Polanski and each man took one of Chris’ legs and pulled him apart. “Look, this little fuck still has a boner.” He looked at Chris who was wiping bits of Brody’s shit off his face. “You gonna let us do whatever we want to you, ain’t ya, boy?” Chris nodded. Brody greased his big paw and stuck four fingers into Chris. His hand was too big to get, but Brody stubbornly kept pushing his paw against Chris’ resisting hole. “Give it up, boy.” “I can’t,” Chris said. “It’s too big.” That only made Brody more determined. He leaned into the boy, and forced his fist in. Chris gave out a cry of extreme pain. His torso shot up trying to expel Brody’s huge mitt, but Brody twisted and prodded his hole enjoying the spasms he was causing Chris to endure. The hand popped out of the boy as he fell back on the bed. “You pussy,” said Brody, with weary eyes. “Let’s try that again. Daddy likes depth. C’mon, open your cunt for daddy.” His hand shot into Chris again, and though it was agonizing, Chris felt his rectum was prepared this time to accommodate the invasion. Brody was even rougher than Polanski, more aggressively tunneling deep into his hole. Polanski watch amused, though his breath was increasingly labored and shallow. Brody laid flat on his side to reach into Chris’ hole, Polanski fell from his knees to one butt cheek. He looked at Chris’ hard on and reached out and smacked the kid’s balls. The kid jumped but Brody’s fist in his ass held his in place. Polanski slapped his balls again, then took a fist and punched him in the nuts. Chris’ ass muscles reacted by baring down hard on Brody’s wrist and that egged Brody on to go in deeper. Chris’ intestines could accept any more of the girth of Brody’s hand, yet Brody’s face showed that a little thing like Chris’ anatomy wasn’t going to stop him. “The goal is the heart of the boy, and you’re going to give it to me,” stated Brody as he pushed in another inch. Polanski didn’t let up punching Chris in the balls. Chris’ head was back on the bed struggling to resist these two psychopaths, his hands flying in the air. There was a bounce on the bed. He looked over to see Polanski laying on his side. Brody looked at Polanski laying there, said, “Lightweight.” He pushed himself up on his side and pulled one of Chris’ legs over his fleshy shoulder. He stop for a second and examined the bottom of Chris’ foot. His face displayed his puzzlement. “Boy,” he said having a hard time put words together, “why have you got a red foot?” His mystified expression suddenly sparked with a dull anger. He pulled up Chris’ other foot. “You been someplace you shouldn’t.” There was such an ominous tone, Chris knew the man figured out where he’d been. “I’m gonna fuckin’...rip your heart...out of your…” The big man went down. Chris laid there for a moment. Brody’s hand was still far up his colon. He felt his fingers slightly twitching. His balls ached painfully, he was sure Polanski had damaged him. He started trying to pull his chute off of Brody’s hand, but at first only managed to pull Brody along with him as he slid across the bed. Without realizing it he found himself on the bed’s edge, his hand gave out under him, and he fell backward landing on his back. The quick, forceful drop pulled Brody’s whole hand out of him in one go, and also pulled out of Chris a gut-wrenching shriek. He now had that empty feeling once again, but this time he was very happy about it. The bedroom phone rang on the nightstand behind his head. The digital clock showed it was just after two o’clock. He knew who it was. He picked up the receiver without saying anything, just listening. “Do you have it?” Master Drax said on the other end of the line. “Yes,” Chris answered. There followed a long pause so long, Chris thought the connection was lost. Then Master Drax continued. “Are they dead?” He leaned over Polanski who hadn’t move since he fell over. He got in close to see if he was breathing. He was, but just barely. His lips were blue and his skin very white. Brody was breathing hard, but Chris had noticed he was always breathing hard. “No, but they don’t look good.” “Bring me what you found in the ventilation system. Leave the briefcase. It will attract undue attention to you. Put the contents in your bag and bring it to me.” Brody started to stir. Chris stepped back in alarm. The large man raised up on one hand, then vomited all over the bed. He looked around the room disoriented, saw Chris, tried to focus, but his eyes closed and he collapsed into his mess. “Leave them. Move quickly, child.” There was a click, and then dial tone. Chris went in the bathroom and splashed water on his face, then all the mess off his ass. What was he going to wear? His clothe in the washer were wet probably. He ran into the large walk-in closet. Half the clothes were the wife’s, and the other half were the dead officer’s, all way too big for him. A bright red jogging suit with white stripes hung next to the door. It was also way too big, but there was a belt rack on the back of the door. He could cinched up the waist with one of them. He grabbed the jogging suit, which uncovered the officer’s holster and police revolver. He wished he’d found that before. Now it seemed after the fact. He put the briefcase and his gym bag on the bed and began transferring the money. He looked over at Polanski. He’d quit breathing. All the money fit with a little room left over. He ran downstairs to the garage and got his damp clothes out of the washer. Sprinting back upstairs he stopped off in Eddie’s bedroom, found his sneakers, and sat on the kid’s bed tying his shoes. He went back into the bedroom to fetch the bag, when Brody rolled over the side of the bed with great effort, but even more determination. He stood teetering, blocking the door. “You little fuck,” he said, looming menacingly, taking one step at a time toward Chris. Chris back up with each step he took, but there wasn’t anywhere he could run. He was cornered. He jumped up on the bed, but the big man grabbed his foot and Chris tumbled off onto the floor, banging his head on the closet door. The man stumbled toward him. Chris scrambled up and backed into the closet, closing the door behind him. He grabbed the holster and moved to the back of the closet, far away the door. The door flew open and Brody charged at him with a monstrous roar intent on tearing him limb from limb. Chris pulled the Glock out of its holster, clicked off the safety, and emptied six bullets in the man’s stomach. Brody was knocked backwards with each strike, but still stood his ground, taller and now madder than ever. “I’m fucking gonna reach inside you and tear out your lungs.” He charge again at Chris, grabbed Chris by the neck and lifted him to the ceiling. Chris unloaded nine more rounds, first hitting his shoulder, his arm, his chest, and, finally feeling his throat about to snap, shot him between the eyes. He kept pulling the trigger long after the gun was empty. Brody fell backward dropping Chris to the floor. His body made a loud thump. As he sprawled, arms wide, on the emerald green shag carpeting, red streams of blood slowly spread in all directions. Chris slowly stood up, still in shock. It wasn’t till the heavy revolver slipped out of his hand that his flight instinct took over. He jumped over the dead man, snatched up his gym bag, and sped out of the house never looking back. A black Camaro sat at the curb. Its engine gunned once as Chris approached it with mounting dread. At curbside he bent down to view the driver and his fate. Inside a large shark-tooth grin spread from ear to ear. “Nice work, Chief,” Manetti said holding the wheel, gunning the engine again. “Love the outfit. Red's definitely suits you. Get in.” Chris did. The car squealed down the street, wheels smoking, laying eight feet of rubber minutes before the cops arrived triggered by several reports of gun fire.

4. 249 Station Street, Flushing, Queens Every breath you take Every move you make Every bond you break, every step you take I’ll be watching you After the massive amount of chem piss Manetti shot into him, there wasn't much more of the night he remembered. He didn't think there was any more filming. Although he was excited thinking he was a star in his first porn video, the actual act of getting fisted and spunked by Manetti was the thing he relished as he woke up. Somehow he'd gotten back to Manetti's apartment. He awoke naked but collarless, a little spaced out about the rest of the evening's events. He rested for a long time on Manetti's futon. A sheet was covering him, but it looked like he had kicked off a blanket. It was already hot in the apartment and it seemed only to be early morning. The VCR clock said seven-oh-three. He felt his butt and found it very wet and greasy. His head felt like shit and he was pretty disoriented, but got up and went to the bathroom. Sitting there, he tried to gather his thoughts. He's pretty sure he got put on a fuckbench and had been ridden by Master Drax and Jamal. His memory was fuzzy. Manetti had opened him up sufficiently for Master Drax to ram his mammoth cock into him, but funny enough he couldn't really remember it. He remembered that Jamal went at him for a long time. He was rough at first but he'd put up little resistance and they soon fell into a hypnotic rhythm that lasted for hours, literally, till the first light of day came into the air shaft. He seemed to remember Jamal pissed in him too. They were like dogs marking their territory, he thought. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, but after that things got sketchy. He thought his memory of Master Drax would come back to him, but right now, sitting on the toilet, he couldn't recall anything after Jamal’s pissing. It hurt, that's as much as he could remember of Master Drax. That, and he distinctly remembered Manetti wasn't there. He released a huge volume of piss from his ass, then followed that up with a slew of shit, grease and blood. When he wiped he was alarmed by the multi-colored streaks: red, brown, yellow, pink. But he knew what he'd been in for, so why actually be surprised? His hole felt it was at least twice the size it had been. Actually it felt amazing. He squeeze a couple of times and realized he couldn't completely squeeze it shut. Overall, the lingering thoughts he had from last night was that it was an adventure he was glad he had, especially what he and Manetti shared, but goddamn did he feel like crap now. He staggered out of the bedroom, saw the back of Manetti's head in the kitchen tub, and crawled back in bed. "Hey, Mike," he managed to eke out, talking into his pillow. "Are you coming to bed?" But he was back asleep before he heard any answer. *** The front door erupted with a tremendous pounding. Chris opened one eye and determined, by airshaft light, it was late afternoon. He looked at the VCR: four-ten. The banging began again. "Mike?" he said. "You there?" The third thumping this time was the loudest, longest, and most determined. He pushed himself up and trotted to the front door. He cracked it opened as far as the chain lock would allow to discover two police officers standing there. "Your neighbor called in a complaint about water leaking from your apartment," the older of the two officer said. He was a big, red-headed guy with a flushed face and greying temples. The other officer in back of him had buzz cut and cold green eyes. “He thought the water looked bloody," the officer added. He peered over Chris head and looked alarmed. “What the hell is that?" He pointed his night stick at something behind Chris’ head. Chris turned around and was dumbstruck. Manetti was naked in the bathtub, wrist slashed, lying in a pool of bloody water. "You need to let us in, young man. Unlatch the door," the officer instructed. The buzz cut officer got on his walkie-talkie and called the incident in. They waited as Chris slipped off the security chain. When he opened the door the younger officer said wryly, "You might want to put on some clothes." It took Chris only a second to realize he was standing in front of them naked. His wasn't thinking, obviously. How could he think? He was just now only fully waking up to the horror of the scene. He looked at Manetti, colorless, his eyelids closed. He focused past him and he saw his clothes hanging on the window grate, now dry. He walked woozily over to the window through a puddle of blood-drenched water. No underwear on the grate, he couldn't remember where that was, so he just slipped on his jeans and his t-shirt. He turned around. The two officers had come into the kitchen and the younger one, the buzz cut guy, put two fingers to Manetti’s neck. He shook his head at the other officer. The red-headed officer introduced himself as Officer Bailey. Chris heard words but they were muffled. Mostly he heard he heard his own blood pulsing through his head. He tried to anchor himself by looking intently at what was in front of him. A police officer in his late forties who looked like a little league coach or Scout Master. Open face, a little flabby maybe, but still solid for his age. There was a bit of tomato sauce on his chin. He wondered what the tomato sauce was from. Officer Bailey nodded at the other officer, said his name was Officer Polanski, then he quizzed him, "Mind telling us your name, son, and who this is and what happened?" His question was nothing more than dampened words under a blanket. Officer Bailey saw the blank look on Chris’ face so he slowly repeated the question: "Your name, son, his name, what happened?" It took Chris a second to shake the cobwebs out of his head before he could pull any kind of answer together. "I don't know. My name’s Chris Prior.” He looked back horrified at Manetti. “I just came in from Los Angeles. Last night. This is Mike, Mike Manetti." He stopped in his tracks after saying Manetti's name. He couldn't continue. Didn’t allow himself to think beyond the officer’s question. "You saying you just now seeing this?" Polanski, the second officer, asked skeptically standing by Manetti’s body. Chris put his hands on his forehead trying to process the scene, then said, a half-step behind each word he spoke, "Yeah, I woke up when you knocked.” It was almost as if he was testing the ground with each word to see if they still held up to reality: "I just flew in from LAX last night. I came here to find my brother. This is his boyfriend, roommate. Was his…" He trailed off. Bailey went in the other room to search the apartment putting on latex gloves. Chris heard him responding to his walkie-talkie. Officer Polanski looked around the room. "You here alone 'cept for him?" Chris nodded. "He leave a note?" "I don't know. You know as much as I know. Is there?" They both scanned the room from where they stood. Chris' eyes kept coming back to Manetti. He had no idea what to do, had no clue why this was happening. The wall phone suddenly began ringing loudly making him jump. Chris looked at it as if it was an alien object. He picked it up. “Hello?” he said in a daze. Master Drax spoke to him in a quiet voice, "Are the police with you?" "Yes," Chris said, staring at the ground. "Do whatever they say. Cooperate with them fully. Now say, 'I haven't seen him today.'" Chris repeated, "I haven't seen him today." He gave a sideways glance out the window and saw an outline of a dark figure on the other side of the air shaft. "Don't say anything to anyone. Just keep saying you don’t know anything.” Chris got out tentatively, “O-kay.” “I'll be in touch again." There was a click, then a loud dial tone. Polanski said, "Who was that?" "I think his boss. Wanted to know why he wasn't in." "Why'd you say you hadn't seen him?" Polanski pressed. There was something dark yet familiar about this officer. Chris didn't have many run-ins with cops in Long Beach but Ben had. The area of Long Beach he grew up in was called Dogpatch. It was close to the refineries and the sprawling Los Angeles harbor. It was also an area where convicts were released. The Burger King close to his house was off limits to him growing up. It was a place crawling with ex-cons and their wives and girlfriends, to cops and fights and arrests. Polanski reminded him of the kind of cop that used to harass Ben. Ben had been busted for being underage at a local gay bar when he was sixteen. He was on the cops' radar ever since. Bailey came back in to the kitchen holding Manetti's box of drugs. He had it open, displaying the contents to Chris. He asked if Chris knew anything about it. He said he didn't. He'd just met the guy last night. He just let him crash here but that was all. Polanski scrutinized him. "What are you, kid, fourteen, fifteen…thirteen?" Bailey gave him a back-off look. "What?" he whined to Bailey, "The kid don't have hair down there. So what am I supposed to think? Maybe we need to take him in for a statement then hand him over to Protective Services?" "I'm eighteen," Chris said, trying not to sound indignant, though he was a little embarrassed they saw he was hairless when they caught him naked. "Eighteen, huh," Officer Bailey said, with a raised eyebrow. "And three month, Sir," Chris added, riffling through his wallet to find his driver’s license. He knew officers like the 'Sir' thing, at least that’s what his brother had told him. When Ben was still at home, his brother was always telling him stuff like that. Like always look for an exit, or always have a plan B, which meant nothing to an eight-year-old. Or like always have two answer for any question you’re asked, if you shoot a gun keep firing till it’s empty, don’t ever mix G with alcohol, stay in your room when mom and Carl are high—useless or obvious stuff like that. Hell, for ten years he didn’t even know what G was until last night. "Here's my driver's license. And I don't know anything about this guy’s drugs habits. Maybe he was a dealer. I don’t know." He was emphatic. "I came in late and we went to sleep, and...." "And that’s why," Polanski interjected, "you're just getting up now, at four o’clock. That don't make no sense." "Jet lag," said Chris defensively. Then quickly added, “I guess it’s jet lag. Sir.” "So you come here looking for your brother and you meet this guy..." "We wrote a couple of letters and he said I could stay with them, with him. He told me he was his roommate, boyfriend, whatever." "And he let you stay the night." Polanski had that real prosecutor's attitude he'd seen Ben subjected to in court. "And the next day you wake up, late in the afternoon, answer the door naked as the day you was born, and this guy’s lying in the bathtub with slashed wrist, and you don't know nothin' about nothin'? Come on. You gotta do better than that." Chris looked crestfallen. Things were happening too fast. Last night was a crazy sex party, some of which he couldn’t even remember, and right on the heels of that craziness, this. Officer Bailey saw Chris' consternation. He sympathetically asked how long his brother had been missing. Chris didn't know exactly. Mike, he thought, said something like two weeks. Polanski chimed in, wanted to know if a missing person’s report was filed. Chris didn't know that either. Maybe he should have, he didn't know why he hadn't. He was in California. He looked down dejected, determined not to cry. Officer Bailey watched him carefully. There was something street wise but also pitiful about the kid. "So this guy's boss calls just now," Polanski continued prosecuting his case, "and you tell him you didn't see him today, even though he's sitting in a bathtub dripping blood two feet away. You covering up for something, aren’t ya kid?" "Nick, enough with the third degree. Can't you see the kid's about to lose it? Son,” Officer Bailey squatted down and squeezed Chris’ thin shoulders. “How much money you bring with you?" Chris took out his wallet again, counted out three singles. "When was the last time you ate something. I couldn't help seeing you're skinny as a rail." "Last night Mike made me some soup. Before that I had a cheese sandwich and crackers on the plane. I don't have a plan B. I know that's stupid. I'm a big, stupid moron, but honest, officer, I don't know about any of this.” Chris pointed at Manetti. “It's the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen. And I really didn’t even know the guy." Chris felt a crippling heartbreak hiding his true feelings about Manetti, how he so callously pushed aside how he really felt about him so quickly. Like he was talking trash like this, with him in the bathtub, right there. He prayed Manetti couldn’t hear him. What a fake and a jerk he was, how right his dad was about how worthless he was. Tears welled up and ran down his face, but he refused to acknowledge them and simply let them roll off his cheeks. He wanted Ben. He needed him now more than ever. He also wanted to go and throw his arms around Mike, wake him up, shake him, hit him, but instead he felt frozen in place, a sniveling little coward. "Listen," Officer Bailey said, sitting Chris at the kitchen table. Chris stared at the back of Manetti's head. "No, look at me, son." He turned the chair away from the tub. "You're not in trouble, but you are a witness. And there’s at least this stash of drugs in this apartment. Detectives will be here soon and take over the case. They'll do a full sweep, turn everything upside down. The coroner’s also coming and will take out the body. So you can't stay here, see? Do you have anywhere you can go? A relative? Maybe one of your brother's other friends?" Chris looked out the air shaft debating whether to talk about Master Drax. He noticed Polanski wasn't in the room. He decided that bringing up Master Drax or the place across the air shaft would be a bad avenue to go down with someone like Polanski. "Hey, Don, come take a look," Polanski called from the other room. Chris heard his own voice on tape rambling energetically, "And I want to get fucked in the gas station toilet. I want that fat turd, Duke, the owner, to fuck me from behind while I'm licking the urinal. You think I stink, man? You should smell that toilet some time. It's righteous foul." Chris came into the bedroom to see Polanski looking through the camera's viewfinder. Polanski rewound the tape a bit and hit play, and Manetti's and Chris' raunchy sex played out of the tinny speaker, no visuals needed. Polanski shut it off. "Doesn't look like you went to sleep right after you got here, pal," Polanski said. "Care to revise your story?" *** Chris totally bailed on Manetti. Said he tricked him to take drugs he didn't want. It wasn't entirely untrue, and he pressed how he was tied up and not at all into it until the drugs kicked in, and then he kind of went crazy. Bailey and Polanski could see that if they looked at the whole tape, which would be really humiliating, but at least it would show he wasn't a willing participant. Polanski wasn't buying it, but with Bailey, there at least was a strand of sympathy. "That why you don't have any hair? He did that to you in the sling when you were tied up?" Chris nodded. "Shitty pervert. So Nick," he said to Polanski, "look what the kid went through. He's out here by himself, don't know where the hell his brother is, run's into this dealer who tricks him, gets him high, ties him up, does God knows what else to him besides shaving him, and wakes up to find the guy who tied him up dead. The perv probably knocks himself off in some last act of conscience for what he done, and you're ready to lock the kid up for trusting this low-life scum. Anyway, look, it’ll be the detectives’ problem in a couple of in a half hour. All’s I'm saying is the kid's been through enough without us piling on him." Polanski frowned. "Yeah,” he looked the kid up and down, “well, maybe there's something to his story." He seemed a little ashamed. "But where does that leave the kid?" Bailey thought for a long moment before he said, "Well, I'm helping you out while you and Molly work things out.” Polanski looked embarrassed. “You're camping out in Tony’s room while my spoiled kid’s off in Europe. He could stay with us for at least a day or two since Kitty and Eddie are at the shore with her ma. He can have Eddie's room. Boy,” he said to Chris, who looked back at him with a spark of hope, “hate to say it, but you look like could use a bath and a couple of hot meals. I don't see how that puts us out any, Nick." Chris looked at the two men expecting Polanski to reject the idea flat out. He looked the type who’d be a real douche bag. "What about the tape?” Polanski asked. “It's pretty incriminating.” "What tape? I didn't see no tape," Bailey said innocently. He looked at Chris, who finally cracked a smile, "Did you see any tape, son?" Polanski pursed his lips, then gave in, shrugging his shoulders. He definitely let Bailey do the thinking. That suited Chris just fine. Bailey seemed like the first nice guy he met in New York since he got here. "We're square then. So, Chris," Officer Bailey said bringing out his wallet, "Here's ten bucks. Go to get some pizza down on Saint Marks or whatever.” He added conspiratorially, “But I'm telling you, Saint Mark’s pizza is the best pizza in New York. Then you catch the seven train out to Flushing. Here's my address." Bailey wrote out the address on his notepad and handed it to Chris. "I’m right across from where the train lets you off. Me and Nick, that is, Officer Polanski, we get off duty in an hour. We should be wrapped up here and back at my house by seven. Think you can get to us around then?" Chris nodded, he definitely could. He thanked Bailey, gratefully pumped his fleshy hand. He even shook Polanski's hand. He found his shoes and began putting them on. He still felt like a fuckhead betraying Manetti, but what was he supposed to do? He certainly didn't have a plan once Manetti offed himself. As he was tying his shoelaces, he wondered why Manetti did it, wondered if something happened after he blacked out. The drugs really fucked him good. As he picked up his gym bag, he flashed on the fact that even the small amount Manetti first slammed him with, he couldn't recollect when Manetti putting a dog collar on him. That was fucked up shit. He swore that was last time he’d ever slam. He saw keys on a hook next to the door, pocketed them, and then left the officers to do whatever they do in these types of incidences. He look back one last time at Manetti who, lying there in the tub, looked almost peaceful. *** Saint Mark's pizza was probably the best pizza he'd ever eaten. He ate two slices and drank a soda, then ordered a third slice. He downed it all while sitting on a stool looking out the window at all the people go by. In one corner of the pizzeria, a TV blared a local news station running a clip of President Reagan giving a speech at the U.N., followed by a traffic report about all the gridlock the president was causing, then ran a local news item about a manhunt in progress upstate. It was just noise that he easily ignored, and instead watched the spectacle out the window. What a bunch of freaks! Punk rockers were all over the place with their spikey Mohawks and safety pins in their noses. Tourist would come up and take pictures of them, then they’d chase the tourist and demand money. Most of the time the tourist paid except one guy in a cowboy hat refused and a fight broke out. A cop came over and broke things up. On the subway, the New York circus continued. An old man in an ascot held onto a subway strap in one hand and clutched a blind Chihuahua in the other; several ladies were touching up their heavy makeup in compacts; grannies in scarves with full shopping carts jabbered away in a foreign language; a group of drunk sailors in white sailor suits piled in and got off when he did at Forty Second Street. He transferred to the train to Flushing. There was graffiti all over everything, the connecting tunnels, the trains, even every single support beam had initials or a little drawing on it. The sailors reminded him of the graffiti in the abandoned building, then he thought of Manetti and started feeling low. After two stops on the Flushing train, a group of homeboys boarded the subway car with their boombox playing earsplitting rap music and started break dancing. They were really good. Spinning on their heads, using the poles in the middle of the cars to swing around, doing complete flips in the moving car. Before they got off they passed around a cap and he put a dollar in it. The boy who passed around the cap said thanks, bro, and held out his hand for a high-five. He high-fived him and that made him feel good. A couple of stations later four older black men got on and started harmonizing a familiar Motown song. Their harmonies and phrasing were perfect. The man he gave a dollar to blessed him and put his hand on his shoulder. Boy, New Yorkers, at least the brothers he saw, were really talented and super nice. As the train went on, fewer people got on. He followed the stops on the sign over the windows, counting down to the last stop. There was only maybe a dozen people when the train finally pulled in. One older Spanish lady was talking to herself vacantly looking out the window. She didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Chris guessed she was probably homeless, clutching her paper bag of valuable. He slipped two of his last dollars into her hand. She stopped talking for a second, looked up at him and said, Dios te bendiga, then went back to talking to herself. Or maybe she was praying. The platform clock pointed to a little after nine. He knew he dawdled coming here, and the train ride was much longer than he expected, but he was still surprised how late it was. The quiet street was dark, but finding the house was easy, especially because there was a hand-carved sign on the corner of the garage that said “The Bailey’s.” The big two-story house with little basement windows he guessed was a typical house for the neighbor, but he wasn't used to staying in anything so nice. To Chris it seemed like he was walking up to a mansion. He rang the bell and Officer Bailey answered. It was strange to see him in yellow boxer shorts and no shirt, but of course it was a warm night and he wouldn't always be walking around in his uniform. “Really nice house, Officer Bailey,” said Chris, as the older man ushered him in. Chris tried to keep his eyes up, but there was definitely a big packages swinging in those boxers. Bailey was a big bear of a man, not really muscly, but very solid. He had a large pillowy chest covered in reddish-brown fur, a tattoo of a lion on his shoulder, a cobweb sketched on his elbow, and a barbwire band around his left bicep. Chris tried to steer his mind away from how sexy his thought this daddy-type cop was. They entered the living room where a Yankees-Red Sox game was playing on a huge TV. He thanked the officer again for letting him stay, but Bailey interrupted him saying to call him Don, and pointed at Polanski sprawled on the sectional sofa in his boxer shorts too, saying “and that cocksucker is Nick.” "Yo," Polanski said curtly, and went back to watching the game. Polanski shirtless was a real piece of work. Both of his arms were covered in full sleeves, and there was very little that wasn’t inked on his chest and legs. His neck too was covered. What bothered Chris was that almost all of the ink, beside a few motorcycle-riding skeletons and smoking devils, was about white power and swastikas. He had to acknowledge, though, Polanski’s body was hot. He was built like a boxer, not huge, not particularly tall, but also not an ounce of body fat on him. His head was dark from short-cropped black hair. He lounged with one arm cradled behind his head showing off a sprawling pit of black hair. He smoked a cigar and scratched his shorts a lot revealing, Chris thought purposefully though he never looked at Chris, his big pecker. Several empty beer cans litter the coffee table. Both the men look well on their way to getting pretty sloshed. Don and Chris stood behind the sectional and followed the game for a couple of minutes. A warm night breeze came in from sliding glass door and the vertical blinds slapped together noisily under the din of the game. Don asked him if he wanted a beer, and Chris cheerfully accepted. Don said there was Popeye’s Chicken on the counter and plenty of beer in the fridge, that he should just help himself, that they were very informal here which was pretty obvious as he pointed to himself and Nick. Chris put down his bag and strolled into the kitchen. He’d never seen a kitchen as nice as this. Expensive looking pink marble was everywhere, rich redwood cabinets lined all the walls, and recessed lighting lit the room dramatically like it was a movie set. There were fluorescent lights but they weren’t turned on, just the spot lights over the marble counter and little lights under the cabinets. Big copper refrigerator and stove matched each other, as did the copper dishwasher. Even the sink was copper. It didn’t seem to fit Don, but maybe his wife was in charge of decorating. He piled his plate with chicken and a big heap of warm fries. He came back with his plate and beer, happily sitting crossed-legged at the coffee table, watching the game with the two men. Through a couple of innings, his opinion of Polanski didn’t improved, because as the game went on Polanski kept swearing racial names at the black players. Chris was too familiar with these kinds of asshole that grew up around him and did his best to only pay attention to the game, the food, and how nice Don was. At the end of the fifth, Don picked up Chris' finished plate. When he bent down he noticed Chris’ stink, and suggested he should probably wash up before bed. Bailey said his room—Eddie's room—was in the middle of the hall. Nick was in Tony's room at the far end, and the master bedroom was at the top of the stairs. The guest bathroom was right across from his room. Chris chugged that last of his beer, got up and thanked Don again for letting him stay, and also for the ten bucks. He said he had a couple bucks left but Bailey waved him off. He thanked him also for the beer and also for the chicken. Don interrupted, said enough with the thanks. Thanks enough, he kidded him, would be not to have a stinky bum in the house. Chris was a little embarrassed, but scurried excitedly upstairs with his gym bag to find Eddie’s room. His jaw literally dropped open when he entered the room. He looked around, thinking, what a life Eddie must lead! Soccer, swim, and baseball trophies were everywhere; posters of race cars and football players lined the wall; and a big Madonna poster was taped to his closet. The kid even had his own cassette stereo system with huge speakers and tons of neatly filed tapes. He didn't think cops made so much money. Eddie was so lucky! This rich kid even had his own color TV, a VCR, and Atari console, with Super Pac Man and Donkey Kong boxes stacked on the TV. He hoped he'd have some time to play them. On Eddie’s dresser, a framed Little League picture showed him holding a bat over his shoulder. He looked a little shorter than Chris and a whole lot younger, twelve maybe. He had blond hair like he did, and striking blue eyes, but what stood out the most to Chris was that he had a smile so confident and winning it literally beamed out of the frame. There were other pictures of him along the walls: him on the pitcher’s mound, mid-kick in the air making a soccer goal, him and his older brother with their ski masks up at a ski lodge, him and his family at the castle at Disney world. This guy had it all. The only thing that was weird was that the man in the Disney photo sort of looked like Don, but not really, but the photo was taken from far away so the family was really small. Mainly the picture was of the castle. Chris set his faded green gym bag on the dresser next to the photo. Looking around the spotless room, with its royal blue shag carpeting, and purple high gloss walls, and white wooden shudders, he felt his gym bag was probably the dirtiest, dingiest thing in here, well, except for maybe himself. Chris crossed the hall, dropped his jeans and t-shirt on the bathroom floor. The shower was all glass and polished metal. He got the temperature to where it was nice and hot, then relished the multiple jets washing over him. It was probably the best shower he was ever in. Jets sprayed him not only from the top, but also at his sides. He was sure he stank and was grateful Don made a joke out of it. He took up the soap and really scrubbed himself down. There was some shampoo in the stall and he used that too. When he rinsed his hair he saw the soapy water turn yellow, and that made him think of Manetti. He put his back to the jets and just hung there for a while as the water flowed over him. There was a knock on the door. He called out, “Yes?” He climbed out the shower feeling not only had he washed his last month of California off his skin, but also the last twenty-four hours as well. Don rapped again and came in. He looked Chris over while Chris grabbed a bath towel off a hook. Don closed the door behind him, and said he was going to start a load of wash before the game ended. The crystal glass he held showed he had switched over to drinking whiskey, and as the man swayed, Chris smirked to himself thinking the cop would never be able to pass a sobriety test. Chris ran the towel over his legs, feeling a little self-conscious being stared at naked, but the man already had seen him that way, and besides he was a dad and policeman, so he just continued wiping himself off with his towel. The cop said he couldn't help notice Chris' clothes could use a wash, hoped he didn't mind, but he'd already thrown the clothes from his gym bag in the washer and thought he'd just pick up these and toss them in too. "What'll I wear," Chris protested as he towel dried his hair. He saw Don looking at his pits and crotch. "Boy that perv shaved you within an inch of your life,” he said. He ran a hand over Chris’ shaved pit. “Truth is, without the wife and kids here, me and Nicky walk around naked most of the time.” He winked, and wobbled unsteady out the door with the last of Chris’ clothes. Chris quickly scoured Eddie's room and realized, even though he was small, he wasn't going to fit in some twelve-year-old’s clothes. He didn’t relish the idea of being naked. Maybe around Don he would, but Polanski was a turn off. He didn’t have many options though. He slinked down the hallway to see if there was something to wear in Nick/Tony's room but it was locked. He creeped to the staircase and saw the lights were off, and the sliding glass door was shut. Don’s bedroom door was ajar with blue TV light seeping through the crack. “Hey, kiddo,” Don called out, “we’re finishing the game in here.” Chris went in and found Don and Nick lying completely naked on the king size bed. They both sat up against the headboard, each with a glass of whiskey in their hands. Don certainly had a massive package. His reddish-brown fur extended to a dark brown swath of pubic hair, with a large semi-erect boner pointing straight out. "Bottom of the ninth, New York’s up by two," Don summarized, as if it were perfectly natural two grown men to always watch a Yankee game naked together on a king size bed. "C’mere, tiger, sit by your ol’ man.” “Yeah. C’mon, sport,” said Polanski, padding the space between them. His Polish sausage hung over two large smooth balls. The cock had a distinctive bend to it, like a large banana. His body was smooth but his crotch was covered, hip bone to pronounced hip bone, by the most substantial amount of the long, black public hair he’d ever seen. “Uncle Nick’s not going to bite.” He paused a beat. “Unless you want him to. Rarrr.” The two men laughed, then as a full count was announced, their attention drifted back to the game. “Swear to God, if that spade lets him walk I’m throwing my fuckin' drink at the fucker.” The umpire called a final ball, and the batter tossed his bat, trotting to first. Polanski, true to his word, flung the glass at the TV. The shattered glass broke violently with whiskey running down the screen. It made Chris flinch, but Don didn’t seem to care. The man again gestured to Chris to come sit next to him. Chris climbed over Polanski’s tattooed legs, and Polanski put a hand on his smooth young ass and gave him a sharp slap. “Woo-ee, who’s not stinky boy anymore? Swear to God boy, you were as smelly as a sewer pipe, and we’re pretty familiar with sewer pipes, ain’t we Donny?” “There he is,” said Don, as Chris settled next to him. The man draped his arm over his bony shoulders. “Fresh as new born baby. Boy, you do clean up nicely, doesn’t he Nicky?” He ran his hand through Chris’ wet hair. “Sure does. Fresh as a daisy.” Nick leaned to get close to his skin and inhaled deeply. “Fresh as a sweet Sunday morning.” "Give your old man a hug like you do when your ma's not home." Chris looked briefly from man to man, deciding whether to play along. He decided. "That's it, kiddo," Don said wrapping his thick arms around the boy. "You're too skinny, except in some new places." He reached down and grabbed Chris' cock. Chris jumped a little, was weirded out but still kind of getting excited. The man was a big furry bear, and his fleshy chest had surprisingly hard muscle underneath. He felt Polanski creep up behind him. His hand went between Chris' butt cheeks and started pressing against his hole. Polanski said, "Eddie sure feels like he's growing up, don't he Daddy Don? Feels like he might even turn out to be a man someday." Polanski stopped as his finger slipped easily into Chris’ anus. "Ah, man, you gotta feel this pussy, Don. That don't feel like virgin pussy, does it to you Officer Bailey?" They both put a finger in Chris' hole. "That most definitely does not feel like virgin pussy." Both men laughed. Chris was actually getting hard, but then there was the sharp crack of a ball being hit. Both men looked over at the game, completely abandoned Chris' sphincter, and leaned forward in bed, crying, No-no-no-no. The batter sent the ball to center-right and it went over the wall. Three men came charging around the bases and the game was over. Don exasperated, got up and went to a fancy bar cart next to the TV and refilled his drink. "You're cleaning that up in the morning," he said to Polanski pointing at the broken glass on the carpet. "Nother one?" Polanski asked if there was another glass. Don went in the master bath and came back with one. He poured Polanski his drink, and said to Chris, "I'd give you one, Edward, but I have a bone to pick with you, young man.” He looked at Chris with mock seriousness. Chris couldn't tell if Don was just drunk or if he was into some serious role play. He guessed role play but wasn't one hundred percent sure. "Eddie, Eddie. Eddie Spaghetti," he said in mock consternation. "I want you to tell me and Uncle Nick about this". He picked up Chris' gym bag that had been sitting on the carpet next to the bar cart. He reached inside and brought out Manetti box of drugs and set it delicately on the cart next to the whiskey and vodka bottles. "Edward Hunter Bailey, I want the truth now. Where did you get these?" he asked, flipping the lid and pulling out three loaded needles. Chris was taken aback. He'd taken that from Manetti's? Was he serious? What kind of cop was he? And was he supposed to be Eddie responding to this, or himself, Chris? He ad-libbed innocence, "Wh-what is that, dad?" "You tell me, son. It's in your bag." "I've never seen them before. What is it?" "Good question, Eddie. Let's see. Officer, please restrain my son." With that, Polanski grabbed Chris' arms and pinned him face down, ass up, in the bed. "Now, boy, don't struggle or Uncle Nick is going to seriously send you into a world of pain." Chris felt his right arm being forced agonizingly up his back. He stopped moving and let Bailey pull out his free arm. The man flipped over his forearm, and he felt the needle go. In less than a minute he felt his body become flush again with heat. Polanski let him go and he rolled to his side, letting the drug roll over him. Fuck, it wasn't fair, was his last fully conscious thought, but then he was horny all over again, and he knew he was totally going to give into these men. As the drug took him over, he wanted them to. More and more he wanted daddy bear and the nazi to corrupt him. While the crystal coursed through his body, igniting his groin, he ran his hands over his cock and inserted fingers in ass. There was a wash of background noise, but he was solely focused on his hole and how empty if felt. He heard Don ask Polanski if he want it in the arm or neck? "Neck," said Polanski, "it's been a long time." Chris was feeling really energized. He popped got up and paced a little holding his arm in the air, then sat against the headboard to watch Don shoot Polanski up. A new, bent fascination had been born in him. Rather than shying away from needles, he became riveted by them. He’d never seen or even imagined someone shooting up in their neck. He couldn't even conceive of how that must feel, but he wanted to see Polanski do it. Polanski laid on his side at the edge of bed and Bailey knelt beside him. Between two zigzag SS's on Polanski’s neck, Bailey found a thick vein, stuck him, registered some blood, then slowly sent the liquid directly into Polanski's brain. When Don pulled out, Polanski pressed his neck with his finger and rolled onto his back. The man said nothing but his eyes popped open and rolled back in his head, his bent cock drool a shitload of pre-cum. Only the whites showed in his eyes and his lids fluttered. He was spasming slightly. Chris ran his hand through the man’s field of black pubes. It was like silk, yards and yards of fine silk. Polanski breathing was rapid and he responding to Chris’ touch with deep moans. He guided Chris’ head to his cock and Chris started working on it, adjusting his angle so he could deep throat the man’s massively curved cock. While Chris sucked the incapacitated man, Don prepped himself with a tourniquet around his thick bicep, found a suitable vein on the front of his forearm, rocked the needle till blood flooded the chamber, then slammed. He fell back on Chris’ hip and, through heaving breath, pulled Chris off of Polanski and crushed him beneath his weight. Chris was pinned but the heavy body actually felt erotic. Pinned, he squirmed obscenely, all skin, no hair, against all hair and rolling flesh. With enormous effort, Bailey rolled to his side bringing Chris along with him. They faced each other running their hands along chests and cocks, a study in opposites, Bailey pressing his fur against the boy, Chris rubbing his smooth skin across the man. Polanski rolled himself to the side was again sticking a finger, then two into Chris' hole. Chris pushed back against his hand and wiggled his ass till he had three fingers in him. "Baby boy, go down on daddy," Bailey said pushing Chris' head down to his crotch. Bailey was a big bear in every way. His fleshy dick was half hard and as Chris went down to suck it, Polanski had his mouth all over Chris' hole, getting it wet and ready to be fucked. The scent of wet cock sent Chris into a frenzy. It was difficult to differentiate what he wanted more, to give head to Bailey or get fucked by Polanski. Bailey decided for him. He rolled on his back and said he wanted baby bear to ride daddy bear's Big Bad Cock. Chris straddled the large man and fed his cock into his wet hole. Polanski was quick to follow the hole he desperately wanted. After Bailey had penetrated Chris, with Chris making obscene noises of pleasure, Polanski set his cock against Bailey's and with every stroke Bailey took, he got his cock in to double dick Chris. Chris' noises of pleasure turned to distressing pain, but again, somehow he enjoyed the distress. He quickly learned to stay stationary as the two men simultaneous pushed in and pulled out. By staying still they could go deeper, and did. At one point with too much motion, Polanski fell out. He immediately pushed himself back in and punished Chris by smacking ass. Chris cried out but pushed his ass deeper onto the men’s cocks. It felt precarious, that they had to work so hard to sustain the position, but it was a position that pleased everyone. Bailey and Polanski were sexually aroused rubbing their cocks against one another, and Chris relished the feeling of being torn apart by the girth of two men at the same time inside him. Their passion built on one another, as the drugs wiped their minds, they became feral animals clawing at each other, rutting in pleasure, nails going into backs, pelts of brown and black fur pressed into a smooth, hairless hole. Bailey and Chris made out while they fucked, and Polanski slapped Chris’ ass with increasing violence. Polanski rambled in Chris’ ear how he was going to take is night stick and rape his with it, ram it up the kid’s ass, how he’d take his gun and make Chris give it head. He started fingering Chris’ the tip of Chris hard dick, trying to get a finger down his piss slit. He said he was going to arrange to have Chris sent to prison to be gang raped. “Would you like that, would you like that, boy?” he breathed into Chris’ ear. Chris readily agreed. Whatever Polanski wanted he’d submit to him. The flow from Polanski’s imagination was unceasing. Somewhere during his description of being his prison bitch, it triggered something in Bailey and he nutted. Polanski was on another level entirely, rutting and heaving, not anywhere on this planet, just a mass of sensations and vile thought, desperately wanting to tear Chris apart. After Bailey emptied the last of his spooge, he started going flaccid and with Polanski pile driving into Chris, his dick soon fell out. Chris also settled down and let Polanski fuck him with ever increasing intensity. He laid on Bailey's chest while the big man stroked his hair. It was an intense combination. Bailey running soothing fingers over his head while Polanski tore angrily into his ass. Polanski had kept up smacking the shit out of the kid's ass, and as the beating became harder, the cracks louder, the more Bailey cooed and shushed Chris' stifled grunts and cries. Still, through it all Chris remained hard. Welts were forming on his ass as Bailey pulled his face down into his neck. Chris felt the bristles on Bailey's neck, and heard Bailey telling him he was alright, that it would soon be over. Chris let himself go limp falling onto Bailey, and in the background the white noise of the post-game wrap up morphed into the local Eyewitness News. The manhunt continued, said the anchor, for two convicts who had escaped from upstate New York four days ago. Bailey kept stroking the boy's hair. The men had escaped through the facility's sewage treatment center dressed as workers. Polanski slipped his arm around Chris' neck. Bailey’s mind drifted off, he repeated his cooing words to Chris. The two men were believed to have crossed into Canada. Canadian officials had cordoned off an area near the border where the two men were believed to be. Polanski wrapped his arm tighter against Chris’ throat, cutting off his airway. Chris started struggling on top Bailey and bucking against Polanski's body. Polanski mindlessly fucked the kid's hole edging closer to cumming the harder Chris struggled. It was a nasty cycle: the more Chris struggled, the harder Polanski increased his hold around his neck. Chris' hole was clenching like crazy trying to spit out Polanski, but instead is was making Polanski cock engorge larger every time it was squeezed. Chris flew into a frenzy to try to get him off and to break his hold. He rasped audibly, and in one long final lunge, Polanski was set free. He spewed ropes of cum deep into the quaking boy. He pulled Chris' head as far back as it would go. The boy's tongue lolled out, his eyes bulged, and he involuntarily released an enormous orgasm spilling buckets of cum onto Bailey pubes. His eyes rolled back in his head, his eyelids fluttered, then all movement ceased. Everything went black, his body went limp, and Chris no longer struggled. Weather with Frank Fields, announced the TV anchor, was up next.

Being a public cumdump, I get bred almost every day, of course i'm extremely lucky to be very close to a filthy ABS. I'm usually bred in a booth, or gangbanged in the theater. If not there I usually find anons from c/l, bbrt, or a4a. I don't remember using condoms ever... they always made my cock go soft, I much rather have raw cock dumping up my ass!

Accidentally cut off a section of this. As we walked into the living room, I could see that he was talking to three other guys, all in their early 20s. All of them were sitting watching porn, stroking their hard cocks. One was short and stocky, a hot bear with a beard, the other two were more twink-ish medium height and lean builds. As soon as I reached the sofa where they were sitting, I shucked my tank top and shorts and turned around, pushed the butt plug out with a plop and loads started to ooze out of my well fucked hole.
 
 “Fuck boys,” Dean said, this pig is loaded up already. One of the loads is from his DAD! “How many other loads you have in there, fag?”
 
 “Two,” I said. “Both from randos who fucked me in the bathroom at the mall."
 
 “That’s so fucking hot, piggy,” the bearish guy said, “I”m Eddie,” he said, and then took a huge hit off the glass pipe he was holding in his hand. He held it in his lungs for a long time and then leaned over to kiss me and passed the hit to me. “That's a shotgun. You’re gonna love them.”
 
 “Come on guys, let’s get this faggot FUCKED UP.” They each walked up to me with a glass pipe and made me do a huge hit and then shotgun it back and forth with them. By the time I had met the other guys, Jose and Chris, my head was spinning and my cunt was feeling even more greedy, if that was possible. I had to have their cocks. My cunt was on FIRE.

It is good to get home and have the ass juices of many guys on your dick; and also the cum of many others. That's why I love fucking well filled holes.

and then there is a chem piss up the ass- nothing better- well a slam is

Last night, in La Guardia, before boarding a flight to Miami. Walked into the men’s room and catch the eyes of a flight attendant who gave me “the look”. I went to a stall near him, stroked my cock, and glanced at him. He moved to a stall in the busy bathroom and I followed when the coast was clear. Dropped his load in me in two minutes flat. Had a nice PA and I kept his cum in me the whole flight.

Part 18 Bam Bam gave Charlie a ride home early Monday morning. Right after he disappeared into the house Bam Bam saw his father down the street. He slowly drove towards him with his window rolled down. Bam Bam let him know that everything h e wanted was accomplished. He had been exposed to Bam Bam's un-medicated virus through multiple loads deep in his ass along with dirty needles that contained some of his poz blood. He also reported that by the end of the couple days his son was openly asking for Tina any way he could get it into his body. His son was given a small amount of Tina, a pipe a one dirty needle to inject himself with if he desperately wanted to slam. Bam Bam was handed an envelope containing $1500 as Charlie's father said, "Half now, the other half converts." Bam Bam told the man, "I figure he'll be poz 7 to 10 days." He was basing the tie frame on when Robbie converted after his weekend visiting. Robbie began to feel slightly ill one week after his visit. His conversion was solely from poz cum he had deposited inside his ass from himself and Matt. He figured the added poz blood he received in the dirty needles along with the extended drug use he expected from the 18 year-old cum dump would get him there about the same time if not quicker. Bam Bam made the drive back to school and found Robbie home alone in bed. Bam Bam knew Robbie had an appointment Saturday night to strip for some drunk frat boys before servicing each and every brother who was there to watch him do his thing. He quickly stripped off his clothes to join his boyfriend naked in bed. The two shared stories of their weekend work which turned them both on to the point where Robbie quickly mounted Bam Bam's growing cock using the cum still present in his ass for lubrication. This brought Bam Bam around knowing that they both would be needing to add something to the fucking that was just beginning. Robbie had 2 points prepared as he handed his man a rig he prepared or himself. The two became still as they each simultaneously slammed the other. They kissed as they removed their tourniquets together only breaking the kiss as they each coughed before They rolled over so Robbie was on his back as Bam Bam began to plow his ass. They spent the morning fucking before Robbie had to go to a late afternoon class and Bam Bam had a lecture right after dinner. Bam Bam made sure to see Steve before going to his lecture to give him the $1500 he received for his work that weekend. Steve took $500 out of the envelope and handed it back to Bam Bam along with a bag of Tina. He then asked his new boss where he was headed the coming weekend only to be told that the next scheduled pozzing would be in 2 to 3 weeks. He had someone who wanted to get back at his ex boyfriend by pozzing him through his new boyfriend. The only activity for the weekend ahead was Robbie going to a private party at a local rave. This rave was held every 3 months. The guy who arranges the rave has always had a VIP room where special guests could hang out. He was able to book Robbie to work the room as a sort of host making sure his special guests are treated right. When the weekend came Bam Bam went with Matt as he took Robbie over to the rave to work. The host invited them to stay as long as they wanted. The two figured they check out the guys attending the rave to see if they could find a boy to corrupt. They quickly spotted a group of high seniors from one of the area high schools. Matt knew that they were seniors when he spied the twins in the group. He knew the twins twins (Allan and Arthur) from wrestling and although they were seniors, the pair was 19 years old. Their parents held them back a year to help with their wrestling in high school. Matt made a comment to Bam Bam that he thought their might be something going on between the two identical twins as they continued to scope the group out the group of dancing jocks. They watched as they began to break away dwindling the group from 8, to 6 to 5 before 3 dudes headed off leaving the twins all alone. The guys who split off went to chase female pussy (although it was suspected one of them went after a known bottom boi fag with whom they'd easily end up getting action with before the night was over. Matt thought this was a perfect opportunity to lure the twins away from the rave. he knew that the twins were big pot heads. He hoped that they might remember him from last summers wrestling camp when he first laid eyes on the two and figured them to be closeted fags. He knew neither had a girlfriend saying that they didn't want a girl to get int he way of their wrestling. The two were inseparable. Matt figured with a little weed, some G and Miss Tina, he could bring these boy out of their shell and discover their true self. The twins looked like they needed a break when Matt went over to say hi allowing him to introduce his friend Bam Bam. One of the twins asked Bam Bam about his nick name, to which he was given a direct answer about his club of a cock. The twins seemed oblivious to much of what was being talked about until Matt suggested they go somewhere and smoke a little weed that he had with him. Matt was familiar with the rave having attended the last one and he knew there was an area where they could go and light up. The weed was primo stuff and quickly had the twins baked since they made sure to get them to smoke more then the two college guys smoked. The next step was to offer the twins a 'drink'. Although anyone over 18 could get into the rave, they were strict when it came to serving alcohol. Of course Matt had a small bottle of booze that they could slip into their can of Coke with no one being the wiser. A nice dose of GHB was added to each of their Coke cans and between the weed and the G both twins were starting to loosen up while also starting to become slightly tired. Matt knew this opened up an avenue to lead the twins down the path of no return. They told the twins about a banging private party they could go to where they do some more drinking as the Twins were quietly escorted the sluggish twins out a back door so they wouldn't be seen leaving with the two college jocks as began to yawn and fight to stay awake. One twin was placed in the front seat of Bam Bam's car as the other was put in the back seat with Matt. As they drove off Matt commented kept building up the party as the twins fought to keep their eyes open. It was time to introduce them to Miss T. Matt pulled out his pipe and torch as he told the twins he had something to 'perk' them up for the rest of the night (and a good chunk of the next couple days) as he lit a torch and heated the bowl. He inhaled a decent hit before blowing the white cloud out and saying, "Damn, that's good!" He then handed the pipe to Bam Bam so he could take a hit. After he exhaled the white smoke he added his own comment, "I really needed that hit" before handing the pipe back to Matt who was now offering it to a curious twin asked what was in the pipe thinking it was more weed, "More weed will probably put me to sleep." Matt told them, "This stuff is a mild stimulant called T. It will help wake you guys up. So relax, let loose and have fun." He then urged them do as he and Bam Bam did in sucking the smoke and blowing out some clouds. Matt first offered the pipe to the twin in the back directing him when to start sucking in the magic smoke. Bam Bam made a comment about being hot as the twin in the back was blowing out his first cloud. When the twin in the front took his first hit and blew out an impressive cloud, Matt was agreeing with his friend driving about being too warm as they each took his t-shirt off revealing their well defined, muscular upper bodies. As the pipe went back and forth between the two twins each one cloud help from noticing the half naked stud sitting next to him. After each had taken 5 massive hits as Matt and Bam Bam worked to challenge each twin to attempt to out do the other by taking a bigger and bigger hit off the pipe. By this point each twin had perked up and began to feel the warmth around them as Matt encouraged them to take off their shirts. The twin in the front seat was the first to bare his smooth, lean, defined upper body before he told his brother to quit being a pussy and take off his shirt. The one twin in the back seat with Matt was trying to sneak a look at Matt's well defined upper body. He quickly asked Matt, "How hard was it to develop such your chest and arms?" The twin in the front seat was now looking back at Matt as he answered, "I got this from years of wrestling." Matt then flexed his arms and chest before suggesting the twins have a feel of his muscular upper body as they touched us arms, shoulders, chest and abs. Matt then pointed out the definition Bam Bam had was was all natural. Bam Bam never really spent any significant time in the weight room like Matt. Bam Bam offered then had the twins feel his body like they had done to Matt asking them to compare their muscular bodies. The twin's opinions were split with each twin picking the one that were sitting next to in the car. Then Matt and Bam Bam commented on how lean and fit the twins looked each now picking the twin that had picked them. Bam Bam was the the first of the two to reach over and feel the upper body of the twin next to him. Matt made sure to add his ow two cents in and compliment the twin close to him as he reach over an felt the twin's arms, chest and paying particular attention to his tight stomach. At first the uninvited touching ad the twins a little freaked, but after all they had just touched both of the guys they were riding with when they suddenly began to feel a little excited about being shirtless and touched. It was a long drive to get to the party they were taking the twins too and since they didn't want them to remember the directions, let a lone, the parties location. They twins began to ask more questions about the party, something they probably should have done before getting into the car. After a good 30 minutes they pulled up to a nice house on the edge of a near by town. The twins had no idea where they were or what they were in for as Bam Bam parked his car. The twins were about to put their shirts back on when Matt told them to leave them off. He added,"It typically gets very warm inside, your shirts will be safer in the car. Besides you guys have great lean, tight bodies. You should show them off." The twins followed Matt's advice and seeing the two older, well built guys leaving their shirts int he car did the same. The twins followed Matt and Bam Bam as they walked up to the house and walked right inside without ringing the door bell or even knocking. They seemed to know some of the people at the party as Matt had Bam Bam take the twins to the den. With the little bit of Tina and G already in the twins they probably didn't notice the crowd at the party were mostly gay guys, most of them showing some skin (with a couple bare ass naked) now ogling the half naked twinks. Matt quickly joined them with G spiked drinks as Bam Bam offered the pipe so that the twins could blow more clouds. Before too long each twin had taken another half dozen hits as they slowly drank down their drinks. Both twins seemed oblivious to what was going on around them as their eyes seemed to be half open. Matt took this opportunity to lean over and kiss the twin who rode with him in the back seat as Matt was working on his twin to shot gun of Tina. Matt wasn't sure what the twin's initial reaction would be, but knew what ever it was, it could be changed with more G and T. The twin Matt started to kiss surprised him as he quickly parted his lips giving allowing his tongue access to his mouth along with a quiet 'MMMM" to be heard. Bam Bam was already on his second shotgun with his twin as he got him to stand up as they were now kissing as they embraced and allowing him to loosen the twin's belt letting his baggy jeans to fall to the ground leaving him only in a pair of skimpy green bikini briefs.. Not to be out done, Matt maneuvered his twin to stand as Bam Bam began to lead his twin towards the host up stairs play area. Matt followed his friend as he worked to free his twin from his cargo shorts which now had this twin only wearing some black CK boxer briefs The guy who owns the house was a good friend of Steve. He created his second floor play room by knocking down all the walls (with the exception of 4 small, private play rooms. He had half a dozen slings hanging from the ceiling and mirrors on the ceiling and walls which provided the ability to see most of the action. Not to mention the numerous hidden cameras that recorded all of the action, They were greeted at the top of the stairs by one of the host 'house boys' who asked, "Fresh meat?" Matt simply nodded as he granted them access as Matt whispered to the 'house boy' and handing him his bag of party supplies. Matt knew he could trust the houseboy to make up a 4 slams, a couple nice ones for the twins and one each for he and Bam Bam. Most of the part guests were still down stairs except for a few who followed the twins as they were guided to the second floor. The twins were easily maneuvered into the slings as they lost the last bit of clothing that remained. Once in the sling the twins were distracted as they each were now on the receiving end of a rim job and thus allowing Matt and Bam Bam to loose their own clothing. Like clock work the house boy who had greeted them at the top of the stairs returned with a few of his fellow house boys to assist in making sure that each twin was secure in his sling. The twin had no clue as now a naked Matt and Bam Bam moved from where they had been eating ass to standing next to their twin with point and tourniquet in hand. With the ability to see each other in the mirrors of the play room they each began to administer the slams to their respective twin. They quickly applied the tourniquet and without the twins being ant the wiser with the G freely flowing through their lean, compact bodies, had a needle slipped in a prominent vein. They each registered that familiar red flash just before pushing the plunger down and bring the twins on the last step to becoming chem sex slam pigs, Matt spoke as the twins began coughing, "Ride it out boys, we'll see you on the other side" as he and Bam Bam moved back between their twins spread legs and administered their own slams. As the now wide eye and confused twins looked up at the naked forms before them as they were each impaled by a hard cock driven balls deep as the host joined them proclaiming, "Let the fucking begin!"

Cumunion....need I say more? If you've ever been to one, you know what I mean. Skippng over the gory (or sexy) details, I must have taken a coule of dozen loads in my gaping hole, cum pouring out of me and going down my thighs, a horrifcally painful rosebud that lasted longer than I expected because my hole was constantly being penetrated and violated for hours (sometimes even double penetrated or fisted), I couldn't sit or walk right for days. Would I do it again?...hell ya!

Hey everybody, I'm glad you guys are digging the story. I've got plenty more where this came from with this storyline if you're into it. Hope you enjoy part 2! So, a few weeks passed after Mr. James fucked me silly in the back of my grandmother’s office. Things returned to normal for the most part, but every time my cock would get hard, I’d think about Mr. James and what he did. Late at night, I would lay in my bunk bed and fantasize about going to the bathhouse with him. I thought about rolling with him and how good it would feel. That always got my hole to twitch. And then there was my hole. Mr. James had called it a pussy, and I’d never really thought of it that way. When he did at first, I was kind of grossed out, but the more I would rub my fingers around it, the hungrier it got to have his cock again, and I thought that maybe he knew more than I did about this. Maybe I did have a pussy after all. But most of all, I thought about his cum. For the whole rest of the day that he’d fucked me, I’d felt it inside all wet and sticky trying to ooze out my battered hole. And when I got home I found my favorite makeshift dildo and went to town smearing his nut as deep inside me as I could get it. I’d always used condoms before, and I was such a stickler about not wanting to catch anything, but during those late night moments in bed, I knew I needed more of his cum shooting inside me. It was just a matter of time. Finally, I worked up the courage to use the number I kept in my wallet. I bit down my nerves, and gave him a call. My heart was pounding, and I sat with my legs crossed to squeeze down my hardon as the phone rang. The other line picked up and a gruff male voice answered. “Uh, Mr. James?” “Oh, hiya, kiddo! How’s the day treating ya?” he said, immediately switching to that oversized cartoon voice he always used with me. “I’m good,” I said, and that seemed to be the extent of the words that would come out of my mouth at that point. “Oh, good, good. Have you been thinking about what we talked about last time I saw you?” “Yessir.” “Ah, well, then I’m glad you worked up the balls to say something. I’ve always said you can do amazing things if you put your mind to it, little buddy.” A shiver went through me when he said this, like some kind of horny premonition. I chuckled softly, but the silence came right back. “Well tell you what, why don’t we make this easy. What are you doing Friday night?” “Nothing.” It was two days away, and my dick ached at the thought of having to wait that long. Mr. James knew what he was doing, though, so I needed to follow his lead. “Good. Why don’t you swing by my place around 7. We’ll get ready and get a little relaxed and see where things go from there, how does that sound?” “Great,” I said, my voice cracking with a bit of relief. I cleared my throat and thanked him. He gave me his address, and we got off the phone. My whole body was flushed with horniness. I’d done it. I was about to do it, try something I’d never thought I would. It was going to be a long wait until Friday. The day finally came, and I made sure I was showered up and as ready for anything as I could have possibly been. I put on a black t-shirt, my tightest white briefs, and my baggiest jeans, and drove to his house. The drive took over an hour, and I was scared shitless the whole way, but there wasn’t much in the world that could keep me from having an adventure with Mr. James that night. I managed to pull up in front of his big stone-worked house right at 7. My legs shook when I got out of the car, and my hands were trembling uncontrollably. I could have called it all off right then, but I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. Mr. James answered almost right away wearing nothing but a musty looking red jock and black motorcycle boots. I guess I should have realized this before, but he was one hairy guy. His entire 6’1 frame was covered in dark hair, and the jock sagged with the heaviness of his bulge. Right above the waistline on his jock was a tattoo of a biohazard symbol like you’d see in a doctor’s office. It looked so cool! “Hiya, little buddy. Your evening awaits,” he said with a little mock bow ushering me inside. I chuckled and stepped through the door. He had a big living room to the right with several comfy looking sofas and a big coffee table with a weird looking glass pipe on top of it. “Come on, get comfortable. No need to be shy here, kiddo.” He took a hold of my hand and drew me in for a gentle kiss. I melted into him as he unbuckled my pants. I was losing myself in his kiss while he was working my shirt up toward my head. He laughed a bit and pushed be back. “Hold on, partner. Let’s get you undressed and then we can get to business. We’ve got all night.” I pulled my shirt off and stepped out of my jeans and Mr. James let out a gasp. “White briefs? My beautiful boy, how did you know they were my favorite? Let’s just keep those on you. Now where were we?” He pulled me in again, and I opened my mouth ready to take in his big man-sized tongue. He came in close but stopped short of actually kissing me, holding my head in his hand and reaching up to cup one of my boy boobs in the other. I grunted a bit, sensitive about my doughy body. “Mmmm, such a beautiful boy. I love your body,” he said, as he made little circles around my nipple with his thumb. I couldn’t help but blush. No one had ever said that to me before, and I knew I’d do anything I could to make Mr. James happy. At first the nipple play felt just like touching any other part of me, but soon I felt this pulsing building in my nipple and moving straight down to my ass. The more he tweaked and massaged, the more on fire I became. He gave it a good pinch, and I let out a little whimper looking into his eyes that had become like steel. Then he kissed me deep and hard before I could protest, and I felt myself give over to him. After a few minutes, he pulled away. The front of his jock was tented and wet. He took a finger and dabbed at the precum oozing through fabric and brought it to his lips with a smack. “Tell you what, why don’t we go relax a bit and plan out the night.” I followed him over to the living room, where we plopped on couches opposite one another. “Do you smoke?” he asked. “Cigarettes?” I asked, worried about a lecture coming on. Mr. James just laughed his funny cartoon laugh. “No, silly boy. I’m not talking about cigarettes. Have you ever heard of Tina?” I shook my head no. “What does it do?” I asked nervously. I’d smoked pot a time or two, but never anything harder than that “Well, that’s a good question, kiddo. You see it makes everything a little brighter, a little better. You feel a bit like a superhero to be honest, and it makes sex the best thing you’ll ever experience in your life.” “Oh. Oh wow.” “Yes, wow. And what I happen to have here in this very pipe is grade A Tina just for us, little buddy. Tell me, do you want to unlock the pig boy I saw inside you the other day?” I nodded slowly. “Yes. Please, Mr. James. I want you to show me how.” “Ok, kiddo, let me show you how it goes,” he said with his characteristic goofy flair. “This here is a pipe. Now I assume you’ve smoked before, but not quite like this, am I right?” I nodded. “That’s my boy! See you’re already halfway there. Now this is how it’s done. I’m going to light this torch here, and when the crystals start to melt it’s going to get all smoky inside, and that’s where those pretty little bow lips come in.” I couldn’t help but let out a giggle. I couldn’t believe I actually giggled. “Once that smoke gets going I want you to suck in light and steady until I tell you to stop. You got it? Can you do that? I knew you could. Ok, let’s get started.” Just like he said, he lit the torch and the crystals melted. Whispy smoke filled the bowl, and he offered me the pipe. I wrapped my lips around the end and started sucking slowly. I kept going for what seemed like forever, until I was about to burst, when he told me I could stop. I let out a huge cough a giant cloud of smoke. That stuff tasted just awful, but immediately I felt as if I’d found a power up in a video game. I felt stronger, the light seemed brighter, and it seemed like my whole body was humming, particularly my pink little hole. He gave me some encouragement, and we passed the bowl back and forth a few times until I was flying high. He set the pipe down on the coffee table with one of his little chuckles, raised his arms above his head and flopped down into the cushions of the sofa. Both boots were flat on the floor so his bulge was thrust up obscenely, and I had no trouble seeing that he was rock hard. “So, little buddy, how you feeling? Isn’t this stuff great?” He looked at me with what seemed like love and mischief. The Mr. James I’d always known, but so much more. “Oooooh yeaaaaaaaah.” We both laughed, and he adjusted his leaking bulge. “So, you liked it when I opened up your pussy the other day, huh?” My expression changed, and he took notice. “Aw, you don’t like your pretty little hole getting called a pussy? You don’t like your little boy butt getting called a pussy, is that it?” He said playfully, reaching over to my couch to tickle me. “Mr. Jaaaames!” I laughed. “Well that’s what it is, kiddo, a pussy,” he said, leaning back into the super chilled out position he was in before. “A bright beautiful pussy, and I’m going to do everything I can to convince you. Ok?” “Ok, I guess.” “You guess? Do you trust me, buddy?” “Yes,” I said, without a second thought. “Are you willing to do anything I ask? All we want to do tonight is make each other feel good.” He had this intensity that I’d never seen before. His eyes were gleaming. I felt like I was about to sell my soul or something. I thought for a bit. Everything I wanted was just a word away. My senses were reeling. It all felt too vivid to be real, but it was. “Yessir, I’m ready.” “That’s all I needed to hear. I knew you would be just a perfect boy for me, little buddy. I’ve always known since the first day I laid eyes on you when you were a little thing. All you need to do is let go, little buddy. Enjoy the ride, and I promise we’ll have an amazing adventure together." With that, packed us another bowl and laid back on his couch in the reclining position, thrusting out his crotch. “Why don’t you come here and sit on my lap, kiddo,” he said patting his leg. Wordlessly, my ears thumping in my head and my skin all tingly from the Tina, I went over to him and straddled his pelvis. He let his cock loose from his jock, and I felt it thwack against my underwear clad butt. Feeling his dick touch me brought be back to my senses with a shock, and I moaned. I couldn’t wait to get that monster back inside me, stretching me, filling every little bit of me up with cock. “That’s it, kiddo, just let go.” He rubbed his hands all over my body, resting on my ass. Without a pause, he ripped them open, leaving a gaping hole in the back. I moaned and scooted my ass back to get his cock closer to my hole. Mr. James spread apart my lily white cheeks, propped his cock up against my hole and grabbed the pipe next to him. “I don’t think you’re quite ready for my cock just yet,” he said as he lit the torch. “I wanna see you positively fucked up, kiddo,” he said with a wink. I took in a deep hit and felt my hole loosening around his cock, bit by bit. His thick head made an indentation in my sphincter. The smoke lit me up inside, and suddenly all I could focus on was the tightness slipping from my hole and how much I wanted his cock buried deep inside me. “That’s it,” he said. “Good boy. Let the smoke take you over. Let it let you give me that pussy, little buddy. Yeah, open up for Mr. James. Open up real wide.” His head popped in me with a jolt, and we both gasped. He got me to take another big hit, and my head was spinning like crazy. I started to sink down on his cock and he took one of my nipples into his mouth and started slurping. My mouth hung open and I moaned loudly, catching myself, but burying my hole on his 7 inch cock right down to the root. “Yeah, baby boy, that’s it. Let yourself go. Make any kind of noise you want while you take my cock,” he said. My hole was feeling really jittery, and it seemed like Mr. James’s cock was the only thing that could make it go away. I slid up on his shaft so just the head was left inside me and made little swirls with my hips. Mr. James bit down on my tit and I slid all the way down on his shaft. He reach up a hand and began tweaking my other nipple as he sucked, and my hole twitched along with him. My head thrashed around wildly. Out of control. That connection between my nipples and my hole was like a full blown electric current now. I was in a frenzy for cock. For cum. He touched my face with one hand and moved me back to make eye contact. I could barely focus on him, but I saw his big goofy smile and all seemed well again. “Hey, kiddo, look at me. Look at me. There you go. That’s my boy. I think you’re ready now. Show me how much you want me to take over that pussy, kiddo. Ride my cock and show me.” I took in a deep, shuddering breath. Mr. James was right, I did feel like a super hero. A super hero built for fucking. I grabbed at his cock with my hole and rotated my hips. I felt his precum oozing into me, and all I wanted was more. So I raised myself up, sank all the way down and began milking his cock for all I was worth. Root to tip and back again. Mr. James let out a low, unrestrained grunt. “That’s good, baby boy. Show me how much you want my cock.” He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I leaned back into his cock. It stretched me from a whole new angle and for a second I thought I would burst. I felt a sharp pain, but nothing was too good for Mr. James, so I bit my lip and ground into him until all I felt was his cock filling me up. I bounced myself on him, increasing my pace. The more I bounced, the better it felt, and soon I was jackrabbiting myself on his steel hard cock, and he started playing with my titties. “Tell me how much you love your pussy, kiddo. Tell me.” “I love it Mr. James. I love my pussy, and I looooove your cock. Please. Please. Please. Oh, fuck I love my pussy. Thank you for making me feel good. Thank you for—“ He crushed his mouth against mine, and took control. He held me against him and pounded into me so hard I thought my pussy would rip open. I tried to tighten up to protect myself, the ferocity he fucked me with ripped away any control I might have had. Panting there against his chest, I felt a spot deep in my pussy Mr. James was hitting. pleasure radiated from that spot to my whole body, and I felt myself start to shake. Mr. James kept fucking me hard and deep and relentless. “Give it to me. Give me that pussy, baby boy. Give it up.” And I did. The pleasure took me over. My muscles twisted up in knots as our bodies slapped together ratcheting up the tension in my pussy more and more with each thrust until everything holding me back seemed to burst open and I let out a primal yell like I’d never imaged I could make. I held onto Mr. James for dear life as wave after wave of pleasure shot through me. I shook uncontrollably. “Ilovemypussyilovemypussyilovemypussy…” was all I could say. “Let that pussy cum, baby. Just let it happen. This is why you give your pussy to men, because they can make it cum for you. As the waves subsided I felt him flex his cock inside me over and over. What I imagined as a river of precum was flowing right into my pussy, and I couldn’t be happier. I collapsed onto Mr. James’s chest a sweaty mess, and he wrapped me up in is arms, kissing the top of my head. The front of my ripped white briefs were soaked, but it didn’t feel like cum. I reached down to touch myself. It definitely wasn’t cum. “Don’t worry about your boy-clit right now, baby boy. Your clitty hasn’t cum yet. That’s just a fuckload of precum.” I was still catching my breath, and Mr. James held me tight against his chest while I did, making big circles against my skin with one hand. And he never stopped grinding his fat dick into my new pussy, painting my insides with his fuck juice while he made cooing shooshy noises at me. “How did that feel, little buddy, did it feel good?” he said in a low, comforting voice. “Mmmmore please,” was all I could get out since my head was still buzzing so fast. Mr. James laughed really loud and I felt his cock flex inside me. That made me giggle. “Well that was really hot to watch, kiddo. You done good. Just thinking about is making me leak like a faucet in your little pussy right now.” He tickled me a bit, and I giggled some more and flexed my hole around his cock. “I know, I can feel it. It feels soooooo gooooood, Mr. James.” “It does, does it?” “Yeah. Wanna feel you cum in me.” “Oh-ho! Do you now? Well why don’t you lean back, baby boy. Let’s talk for a bit. Here, why don’t you suck on this pipe for a little bit.” “Oh, Mr. James, I don’t think I should. I’m real fuckeded up.” “Ha! I know you are, baby boy. But nearly high enough for Mr. James. You don’t want to disappoint me now, do you?” Of course I didn’t, so I settled all the way down on his cock, brought the pipe to my lips and sucked while he held up the torch. “Do you see this tattoo here, kiddo?” he said, pointing to the biohazard tattoo just above his jock line. “Do you know what it means?” “Biohazard,” I said, and he smiled his big goofy smile. “Biohazard, that’s right. And do you know what it means when a man has a biohazard tattoo, little buddy?” I shook my head no. “Well, it means that he’s HIV positive,” he said in this very school teacher kind of way. I tensed up immediately and let out a big cloud of smoke. It couldn’t be true! This couldn’t be real. I started feeling afraid, so I clenched my pussy around Mr. James’s cock and ground myself against him to make myself feel better. Mr. James just nodded and lit the pipe again. “Now I know that’s a bit of a shock, isn’t it.” “Yeah…” “But you trust me, don’t you?” he said, taking the pipe away. “Of course I do, Mr James. Always.” He took a wrist in each hand and brought my arms down against my sides. “Well then I’m going to tell you a little secret, ok? Ok? Tonight, baby boy, I’m going to give you HIV. Hush! No, no, no, you’re not going anywhere now, kiddo.” He said and held me tight. I couldn’t get away if I tried. “Hey, hey, kiddo, you want my cock don’t you?” I nodded yes. “And you want my cum, don’t you? Again, I nodded. “But you don’t want my HIV, do you?” I shook my head no, tears gathering in my eyes. “Well, they’re a package deal, kid. Do you want my cock?” He used my arms as leverage to impale me even deeper on his thick fuck stick. “Yeeeesss!” I cried out. “Do you want me to pull out? Do you want me to stop?” “No, please no!” “I could if you want, little buddy.” “Don’t do it Mr. James. I need your cock in my pussy!” “Well, ok. If that’s what you want, buddy, I’ll keep my cock in you. But if I do you this favor, then I’m gonna have to coat the inside of that little pussy of yours with my toxic cum, ok? It’s only fair.” I huffed a bit, but in that moment, I needed his cock more than anything else on earth. “It’s only fair, kiddo.” He said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Ok.” I said quietly. “That’s settled then. Now let’s get you into position. Here, get your hands on the floor, but keep your little but propped up on the couch.” I did as he asked. Withdrawing his cock from my ass took a bit of coaxing, but I got into position, ass pointed toward the ceiling and hanging a bit off the couch, while I propped myself up on the floor. I rested my head on the carpet. Mr. James got on either side of my ass and squatted, pointing his dick right at the entrance to my pussy, but just holding it there. “Alright, kiddo. Get that pussy ready to get pounded.” With that, he shoved his entire dick inside me and I let out an animal howl into the carpet. “Yeah, you like my fat poz cock, don’t you?” He said as he mercilessly pounded my pussy. All I could do was let out a long moan that vibrated with the impacts of his thrusts. “You like my cock. It’s better than any cock you’ve ever had in your life, boy, and do you know why?” he said, pushing my lower back to grind my face in the carpet. “Because this is a poz cock, and they always feel better. Don’t they?” I moaned my ascent. “Don’t they,” he said. I twisted my neck around to look at him. “Yes. Yesssss.” “Good, now tell me what you want.” “Your big. Poz. Cock. Mr. Jaaaaaaaaaaggghhhhhhhhh—“ he really started pounding and it co “And that poz cum?” “Gimme your poz cummmmmnnnnnnnn” “Here it cums, baby boy.” He thrust himself into me so hard my face skidded on the carpet. His cock swelled to twice its normal thickness stretching my pussy to the limit. He let out a deep yell and I felt every jet he sprayed my insides with rope after rope after rope of thick cum. I squeeze down to milk every drop. With his cock still embedded in me he pushed me off the couch like a plow and laid himself down on my back. I could feel his cum oozing deeper inside me, and it was the best feeling in the world. “You’re going to be my poz baby boy, aren’t you?” I honestly didn’t know what he was talking about, but as long as I had his cock in my hole, any cock, I would be just fine. “Now what do you think about that bathhouse?” I let out a tired, but excited yay, punching the air with a weary fist. Mr. James laughed. “Great, but first we need to rid of all this nasty hair. You’re too pretty to be that hairy.” I agreed, and my hole twitched in anticipation.

I was at Slammers in LA a couple months ago. After sticking my cock through the gloryholes a little and getting my cock hard, I made my way to the dark room. It was pretty crowded and hot and sweaty, with quite a bit of action going on around me. Needing some hole, I made way over to the fuck bench, where there were two bottoms ass up, both getting fucked. When the top fucking the guy on the left came, I moved over and took his place, stick my hard dick inside the bottom. I could tell his hole was FULL of cum. It squirted out around my cock and coated my dick as I pounded him. After a couple minutes of fucking, the top fucking the guy on the right shot a load, pulled out, and left. Since no one immediately moved over to take his place, I pulled out of the guy I was fucking and stuck my cock in the other bottom. He was also really full of cum. After a minute or two, I decided to switch back to the other bottom. As soon as I pulled out of the bottom on the right and entered the bottom on the left, a guy who had been watching came over and felched the bottom I had just pulled out of. I could hear and see and smell that the guy then pushed out a bunch of cum into the felcher's mouth. The felcher moaned in appreciation. He then stood up and suddenly kissed me, spilling the mouthful of cum that he had just received into my mouth. I swallowed, but some dribbled down my neck and chest. The felcher then knelt down and started licking my cock as it went in and out of the bottom I was fucking. I pulled out for a minute and he started felching the bottom -- who right then pushed out a huge load of cum into the felcher's mouth. And you guessed it -- the felcher stood up and kissed me, swapping another mouth load of cum into my mouth. This load was even bigger than the other and the felcher and I were soon coated in cum, sweat, spit, ass juice and lube as we made out. By this time, I was done and thrust back deep into the bottom and shot my load. I pulled out and the felcher and BOTH bottoms cleaned my cock with their tongues. By this point, there was a big crowd watching, and the bottoms returned to their positions to take more loads. The felcher and I left the dark room. I ended up bringing him back to my hotel, and I fucked him all night. He told me that he couldn't believe how much cum each of the bottoms had in his ass, but he loved knowing that it was multiple loads from multiple tops, all churned together in their rectums, pushed into his mouth, transferred to my mouth, and finally coming to rest in my stomach. So nasty. So hot. So slutty.

This happened earlier in the week; completely unexpected ... and I do feel guilty. Hot black guy messaged me on A4A seeking someone to hangout with, to avoid being alone. Well, the first 10-minutes was kind of awkward ... but that all changed once I started rubbing his leg. We started making out ... short kisses at first ... and then I'm sitting on his lap humping his dick as his tongue is down my throat. We took the fun upstairs where we stripped naked. He rimmed me (I've never been rimmed like that before ... Shit, that tongue went DEEP) ... and then I got aggressive (unusual for me, since I'm 100% bottom) and put my head in his ass. He gave the go-ahead, and I slipped the rest of my cock in his ass with no lube. Holy shit ... it's a completely different sensation; lube really does kill the feeling. I fucked him with him on his back, legs bent up ... him on his stomach ... which went on for only 15-minutes. Wound up blasting a big load in him with him on his back and us making out. He returned the favor ... I never got fucked after cumming, until this night. He dumped a load and we resumed making out and cuddling. Feel guilty as my ex is still in that transition period ... where we're broken up but still have feelings for each other. But the sex I had with this young stud is worlds better than that with my ex.