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8. Jay "He came in you, didn't he?" Tucker asked me. I couldn't quite believe it myself either. Six hours ago, I was chatting with a girl, hoping to get her home. But now, a second man had just cum in my hole. Even though I barely knew him, I was still milking his dick, trying to get every drop of thick white cum out of him. I had a nagging memory, of high school health class, of gay friends telling me their fears, that this wasn't a good idea. That I was putting myself at risk. But there was a bigger imperative that I couldn't ignore. I wanted more. More men. More dick. More cum. I would worry about the aftermath later. "Yeah," I said, smiling. "He did." Damon had shot his load in my hole. The very idea made me happier than I ever remember being, and I never wanted it to end. "Lucky," Tucker said. Damon pushed his dick into me once more. It also pushed his load deeper into me. "Don't worry," Damon said. He pulled out his cock, leaving me suddenly empty. "There's more for you." Tucker swallowed and forced a smile. "Great," he said, but I could see the terror in his eyes. I wondered what it had been like for him, getting fucked so intensely that he had passed out. I wondered what he had thought about, as the blackness enveloped him even as Damon's cock continued its relentless assault. The fear must have been overpowering, yet there was nothing he could have done about it. But the thought quickly drifted away from me. All I could think about was how my ass was an empty void, and how much I wanted another dick in me. "Looks like that hit the spot," Aiden said. I nodded, not sure what the right answer was. "And that you need another cock up your ass." I nodded my head again. "Let's leave these two," he continued, then turned to Tucker. "I'll check up on you guys later. And Tucker, make sure you keep him happy." "Yeah, uh, sure boss," Tucker stammered. I looked down; I didn't want to meet his eyes as I went off with Aiden and left Tucker alone and unsupervised with Damon. I noticed that his cock had shriveled up like mine and wondered what the cause was; Damon's dick was semi-hard, and Aiden's was straining against the white underwear he had on. "Good boy," he said, then motioned for me. "Come on. I have some new friends for you to meet." The lights had been turned down even more, and I almost lost Aiden in the darkness. At least his white underwear gave me something to follow. Eventually, he stopped by the bar; it was an oasis of light, with a small light suspended over it. There was one other man there, a man a little shorter than me, wearing only a pair of red sneakers. He was thick with muscles, had a thick, trimmed beard and broad, and sported an amazingly hairy chest. Through the neatly trimmed chest hair, I could see a few tattoos. Even soft, his cock was still thick and long, hanging down over balls clearly heavy with cum. "Alex," Aiden said to the man. "Hey," Alex said. "This is Jay. He's new here tonight." Aiden turned to me. "This is Alex. I'll let you guys get to know each other properly." "First night, huh?" Alex asked. I nodded. "Welcome," he said. He reached over and ran his hand through my chest hair. Alex's fur was darker and thicker; next to him my light brown chest hair seemed almost non-existent. "You're a cute one." "Thanks," I said. He grabbed my arm and pulled me against him. His skin was warm and he smelled like a man, a bit sweaty and musky. If I needed any other reminder of his masculinity, his dick was pressing against my thigh, already semi-hard. Before I could say anything else, he leaned in, lifted his head up, and kissed me. The height difference was a bit disconcerting, that he was both shorter and the more dominant one. But I quickly forgot about anything other than the feeling of his body next to mine and his tongue in my mouth. "See what you are doing to me?" he asked as he broke off our kiss. I looked down and saw that his cock was now nestled between my legs and pointing straight forward. His cockhead was just nestled against my hole. "Nice," he said. He pushed his hips in, letting the head rub against the cum leaking out of me. "You've been fucked already, haven't you?" he whispered in my ear. "Yeah," I said. "Three times," I continued, blushing. It felt odd, to be admitting how many men had used me. I wondered what time it was and how many hours had passed since that first, almost innocent, kiss with Rod. "Nice," Alex said, pressing his furry body even closer to me. "That's hot," he said. "Especially on your first night here." "Yeah," I said. I mean, it had felt nice having another man cum in me, even if it hadn't ever happened to me before. It felt natural to be gently grinding my ass against Alex's dick. But, everything was still so new and confusing. I had been indoctrinated into heterosexuality my entire life, and suddenly a new door had opened for me. "It's been fun," I finally said. "Good," Alex said. He had an arm wrapped around me. It made me feel safe. "Want to have a bit more fun?" he asked. "Yeah," I said. I pushed my hips against his, feeling his dick slide against my hole. I wanted it inside me. I stopped worrying what people thought about me. I stopped worrying what I thought about myself. I focused on what felt good. I focused on what I wanted. "I want you. Inside me." "That's what I want too, boy," he said, and kissed me. His beard was surprisingly soft on my face. "But first, that hole needs to be eaten out. Follow me." This time, he held my hand, dragging me into the dark room of men. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Damon and Tucker arrive at the bar right as we left. But before I could confirm, other men stepped into my vision, some naked, some with jockstraps, but I as I saw now, no one was fully clothed any longer. Alex guided me to a corner, then pushed me up against a wall. It was forceful, but not rough, and my hole twitched in anticipation. I remembered how good Rod's tongue had felt against my asshole, and I instinctively pushed out my ass so Alex could bury his furry face in it. He got down on his knees behind me and pressed his tongue into my crack. "Oh yeah," he mumbled. "Gotten fucked good, I can tell." "Yeah," I moaned, as he pulled my ass cheeks apart, exposing my hole to his explorations. It was a bit uncomfortable, to be exposed like this in front of a stranger, but at the same time, my heart was pounding in pleasure. "Oh god," I moaned as he rubbed his beard against my hole. It was just as soft as it was against my lips, and I couldn't wait to feel his dick inside me as well. "So fucking tasty," he said, as his tongue pushed into my hole. I wanted him inside me, but at the same time I was conscious that he was lapping up the cum that had been injected into me. I wanted him to stop; those loads were mine to keep. The men had injected them deep into me. They had marked me, let me share some of their masculinity. But, almost as quickly as I had that thought, I wanted his tongue to push deeper. I needed to open myself up to him, and allow him to experience me as intimately and as completely as the other men had. I reached down and grabbed my dick. Despite how turned on I was, it was small and soft. I was aroused as I had ever been, but yet, my dick was being recalcitrant and stubborn. It didn't matter; so far, all the men had been more than satisfied to use their stiff manhood against my hole. Still, I couldn't help but play with myself. "That's it boy," Alex said, between diving back between my cheeks and returning to my hungry hole. "Play with yourself." Notwithstanding my hand on my dick and his mouth on my hole, I remained perversely soft. I glanced around; the men were stiff and hard, their cocks straining against their underwear and sliding in and out of tight holes. The men were proud of their dicks and the pleasure each one got from their erections. All around me, there were men, enjoying their bodies and their cocks. I wondered what was wrong with me. Alex pulled away from my ass. I could feel how wet he had gotten my hole with the combination of his spit and the semen still dripping out. He stood back up and turned me around. We kissed; his whiskers were wet and the fluids dripped into my mouth. I had only tasted my own cum before; I recognized the familiar salty bitterness of semen, but the flavors were different from the times I had tasted mine. I was tasting the semen that had been fucked into my hole. It had been so long since I had tasted another man's spooge. He hadn't called me a disgusting cocksucker yet, so I licked his beard again, this time intentionally and carefully. I thought I could taste each man who had pleasured himself with me. Rod's semen was like a fine whiskey, dark, mature, and intense. Damon's semen had an edge to it, the bodily fluid equivalent of a chip on his shoulder. But the differences didn't matter. What mattered was that each man had offered me such a special chance to get to know him, and that I had been able to receive their seed. "You like that, huh?" Alex asked me, as I licked his beard again. "Yeah," I said. I was a bit embarrassed with my admission. I wasn't supposed to be hungry for another man's semen, and I tried not to meet his eyes. "Nothing wrong with that. There's plenty more for you here." He motioned to the men around me. I looked around. On my left, a boy, not much older than myself, was kneeling down in front of a hairy, muscular, older man. The older man's chest hair was flecked with grey, but his cock was stiff and thick, and sliding in and out of the boy's mouth. On my left, another young guy was leaning against the window, his legs spread with a tall black man forcing a massive dick into his hole. "Here's one for you," Alex said. He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me down to my knees. My face was even with his dick. Instinctively, I opened my mouth and Alex's cockhead slid in, like two magnets clasping together. I looked up, Alex was staring down at me, smiling. "Go ahead," he said. "Your mouth feels great." I ran my tongue over his dickhead, licking up the pre-cum from his piss slit. "Oh fuck," he moaned. "You're good." It wasn't long before his dickhead was pressing up against the back of my mouth and demanding entrance to my throat. I didn't want to gag. I had seen girls gag on my own dick and it seemed disrespectful to Alex to reject his manhood like that. "It's your first night out," Alex said, smiling and stroking my curly hair. "Just relax. There's plenty of time to get used to this." I swallowed, and his cock slipped into my throat. It was an invasion, even more so than Rod's cock sliding into my asshole. It was easier to disassociate from the ass fucking than it was from a cock pushing its way into my throat. I closed my eyes, focusing on the feeling of invasion. I wanted Alex to be inside me, to feel the pleasure I could give him. "Fuck, that's a nice throat," he said. I re-opened my eyes and looked up. His head was arched back, but I could still make out the expression of happiness on his face. I put my hands on his muscular thighs, balancing myself against his muscular bulk. They were thick and hairy, the way a man should feel. I turned back to his cock, focusing on the thick erection pushing its way into my body. Far from gagging on his dick like I feared, it felt good to have it in my throat. I was enjoying being down on my knees, servicing this hot, hairy, hard man. It felt good to be able to take Alex's cock, to be able to accept such a precious gift. I closed my eyes and let myself get lost in the pleasure of sucking dick. Alex's thick cock pushed into my throat. I might have gagged once or twice, but as intense as it felt, it was little consequence to Alex, and therefore, it wasn't important for me. Instead, it was just my way of thanking him for the pleasure of his dick in my throat. Once my nose was buried in his pubes, I lost track of time. Even a century wouldn't have been enough time to give him the pleasure I wanted. "You're enjoying this," Alex said, finally breaking my cocksucking reverie. "I can tell. The way your throat feels on my cockhead." I opened my eyes and looked up at him. His was smiling at me, his brown eyes wide in the dim light and the pleasure. I could see a tattoo across his chest; there was black text, but I was in the wrong position to read it. However, right in front of me, there was another tattoo, a red one, three interlocking semi-circles with barbed ends. The symbol looked familiar, dangerous and a bit sexy. However, it was hard to place it. Alex saw me staring at it. "You like it?" he asked. Even with his cock buried in my throat, I nodded. "It's my warning symbol. Just in case you had any doubts." I nodded again, not entirely sure what he meant by a warning symbol. No man as beautiful as him, with a cock so perfect needed a warning symbol. "Maybe you can earn one as well," he said. I nodded again. It didn't matter what he said. The only correct answer was to say yes, to give him any pleasure he wanted. He reached down and played with my hair. He ran his fingers through my thick curls, gently pushing me further down on his cock. I had thought I had gotten the full length of it into my throat but with his guidance, I found another inch of manhood disappear into my mouth. I gagged again, but the intense agony of it was merely my small gift towards Alex's pleasure. "That's it," Alex said. "Take it all." His voice was deep and resonant. I wondered if the entire room could hear him telling me what a good cocksucker I was. I glanced around, but the other men hadn't seemed to break their relentless rhythm of sucking, fucking, and making out. It was just me and Alex, at home in our universe of masculine pleasure. "Fuckin' sucked it hard," he said, as he released the pressure on my head. "Mmmmph," I managed to say, as I gasped for air. He had pulled his stiff shaft out. I was empty; there was only the puddles of cum in my ass to remind me of the men that had fucked me. However, the empty feeling in my gut was secondary to my need for air. I was gulping down air, smelling the heat and sweat from the men in the room. However, at close quarters, the dominant scent was Alex, a wild, masculine musk that reminded me of the old locker room on campus. My dick twitched again, but I knew it was still worryingly soft. He pulled me back up right and wrapped an arm around me. Although shorter, his arms were long and wrapped with muscle. He reached up, his thick beard rubbing up against my stubble, and kissed me. "You want me inside you?" he asked, before pressing his warm lips against mine and forcing his tongue inside of me. "Yes," I said, without hesitation. All that was important and all that was correct was to say yes to Alex's every sexual need. I had already let two men penetrate me. I was not in a position to deny him the simple pleasure of fucking me. "Yes," I repeated. "Good," he said. He kissed me once more, before skillfully spinning me around and leaning me up against the tall window. In front of me, spread out like diamonds were the lights of LA. It was mesmerizing, but even so, when Alex pressed his dickhead against my hole, I closed my eyes. I wanted to concentrate on the feeling of him pushing into me and possessing me. He pressed his hairy chest against my back and wrapped his arm back around me. I felt safe in Alex's embrace. It was both masculine and caring, a concept that had been alien to me only eight hours ago and was now almost natural and eternal. "Relax," he whispered into my ear. "This is for both of us to enjoy." I exhaled and he pressed his shaft into me. He was just as hard as ever, and his thick shaft filled me up, more than satisfying my deepest needs and urges. "Wet hole," he said, as the accumulated cum greased his path into my gut. "Fuck," I moaned. "That feels good." "Hell yeah," Alex said. His dick continued its relentless thrust into my body, pushing the semen already inside of me deeper into my guts. For a moment, I realized the danger that I was exposing myself to; there had been the endless, embarrassing high school sex ed classes with the unremitting reminders of the dangers of sex with a condom, much less the risks of unprotected sex. But the fear quickly passed. Alex was muscular and strong, healthy and fit, and it was hard to imagine any danger beyond his dick being too big for my hole. Or not big enough to satisfy my insatiable needs. Something had gotten to my head. My mind kept on slipping to sleazier thoughts and I was dangerously sanguine about the raw and intense sex I had been enjoying. I had let Alex penetrate me so easily, and his raw cock up my hole felt so natural and perfect. I remembered the bumps of cocaine that Aiden had given me and wondered if that was affecting me. Or the pipe that Damon had given me to smoke. Alex pressed his body against mine, his furry chest rubbing against my back. "Look out the window," he whispered. "All those lights." I nodded in agreement. It was beautiful, a private world that just he and I shared. Alex continued. "So white, intense. Like pools of sperm." He gently twisted my head back towards his, and we kissed. His tongue pressed into me, and I wasn't sure if I had ever been happier in my life. Alex's dick was now deep in my ass, thrusting in and out, rubbing the accumulated spooge into my body. I relished the feeling, that the two loads Rod had given me, the load that Damon had given me, and soon the load that Alex with gift me would be permanently a part of me. My dick twitched at the thought of the men marking me. "Mmmm," Alex whispered in my ear. "Tighten up that ass. Milk my dick dry." I tried my best to squeeze my ass around Alex's cock, but after three men, it felt loose. But he moaned each time, so it must have been having an effect. "Nice hole," he said. "We're going to have to play some more." He let his hand drift down towards my groin and it quickly found my dick. He played with it, but I remained just as soft as always. "You party tonight?" "Party?" I asked. I had no idea what he meant. "You know, tina? Crystal?" I realized what Damon had been letting me smoke. Friends had talked about crystal meth, how it fucked you up, sometimes permanently. But this wasn't fucked up. This was pure amazing, and if it lasted my entire life, it wouldn't be nearly long enough. "Yeah," I said. "Yeah, I have been." I blushed. I had just admitted using some crazy insane drug to this hot man. I was terrified of how he would respond and even the few seconds he paused before responding was fearful agony for me. "Nice," he whispered into my ear. "We need to PnP together. Damn hot tweaked out muscle bottom," he said. It was dirty and depraved and it made my dick twitch in pleasure. "Tonight?" he whispered. I was surprised he was asking me a question. He didn't need to do ask me anything. All I wanted him to do was to take what he wanted from me. It was my pleasure to give him whatever he required from me. "Yeah?" I asked. "Can I cum in you?" he asked. "Breed you?" I started nodding even before he had finished speaking. My desire had passed mere want, and it was now a fundamental need of mine to get more sperm inside me. "Yes," I said. "Of course. Cum in me. Breed me. Mark me." "That's what I want to hear," a new voice said. I looked away from the cityscape in front of me to see that Aiden had re-joined us. The two men, Alex and Aiden, might have been brothers, just separated by twenty-odd years. In the light from the window, I noticed how Aiden's chest hair was flecked with grey, and immediately wondered what it would look like with my cum sprayed across his chest. "A hungry boy." "Fucking hungry hole," Alex said. The two men kissed, as Alex pushed his dick deeper into me. I watched them make out, their eyes closed, each of them lost in their own private world of pleasure. "I'm going to breed your boy," Alex whispered to Aiden. "Fucking load him up with my seed." "Good," Aiden said. "I know he'd like that." Aiden ran his hand across my body, over my chest, down my flat stomach, before finding my traitorous dick. Despite my arousal, it was still soft, flaccid, and small. It was good that I was getting fucked, otherwise, it would have been an embarrassing situation. Aiden leaned down towards me and whispered into my ear. "I'm glad you're making so many new friends tonight. I'm glad you came to the party with me." I could only nod in agreement. "Feels good," I murmured, as Aiden pressed his lips against mine. His tongue pushed into my mouth, as he stroked my dick. "Him inside me." "Good," Aiden said. "It's supposed to feel good. Just enjoy it." He kissed me again. "Don't hold back. Don't be afraid. Everything is going to be just fine." "I want him to cum in me. Give me his seed." It was so strange to be saying those words, but yet it felt so natural. When I set out to the club that night, it was supposed to end that I was the one fucking some chick. I was the one who should have been injecting my sperm into her warm pussy. But instead, it was my hole that was getting defiled and degraded. "Tell him that," Aiden said. "Let Alex know what you want. What you need." It wasn't a command, but yet I knew there was no way I would ignore his request. It felt so reasonable and natural to tell Alex that my hole was his to breed. "Please, Alex," I said. "Cum in me. Give me your seed." "Is he?" Alex asked. I was confused, but then realized the question was directed at Aiden. I tried to figure out what Alex was asking. But, right as I focused, Alex pressed his dick back into me, and all I could do was moan in pleasure. "Nah. He's practically a virgin. But he's spoken for." Aiden stroked my dick, and the sensations overrode the foreboding I had about what he had just said. "Spoken for?" Alex asked. The way he said it gave me pause. I didn't want to be anyone's possession. I had just gotten out of my parent's house, and it was time to be my own man. But I remembered how protected I was when Rod wrapped his arms around me. Or how safe I felt with Aiden looking out for me at the party. Or most of all, how Alex cared for me enough to give me his load. Around these men, I was going to be ok. "Yeah," Aiden said. "But that doesn't mean the two of you can't have fun tonight." "You're right," Alex replied. He continued. "Fuck. This is going to feel good." Where Damon had been forceful and careless, Alex's every stroke was intentional and planned. As his cock slid in and out of my hole, I realized Alex had only one goal he was mindlessly pursuing. It was the goal of every red-blooded man, the only goal we had in life. It was to spread his seed far and wide, to impregnate every available pussy, whether willing or unwilling. Every thrust and parry of his cock was carefully planned and executed to push him closer to that fundamental masculine need. "It feels good, doesn't it," Aiden whispered into my ear. "His cock, inside you." I nodded. It was hard to deny what he had said. Alex's cock was sliding in and out, each stroke bringing him closer to that essential relief Alex needed so badly. Just as badly, I wanted to give him that relief, and the thick spurts of man-juice it entailed. It felt so dirty, so sleazy, but also so good. "Yeah," I finally said, lost in the pleasures of getting fucked. "I want your load," I grunted to Alex. "Give it to me." "Oh fuck," Alex grunted. His strokes were no longer the long, deep thrusts. His pace was faster and he was forcing himself right to the edge. "Oh FUCK," he grunted again. "Give it to me," I said. I had never craved something this badly in my life before. All I wanted was this man to cum in me. I wanted him to breed me. I didn't understand it when Damon had first told me he was going to breed me. But now, getting bred by a hot man was the only thing that mattered in my life. "Fucking breed me," I said. "OH FUCK," he said, this time ramming his cock deep into me. I felt Alex's cock pulse and surge and his thick, wet, cum fill my gut. Each man had been better than the last, and Alex's orgasm was practically a religious experience. "TAKE IT," Alex grunted. In the center of my torso, the wetness grew as Alex drained his balls into me. The perfection and peace of that moment, the moment where his semen filled me up, was going to be a feeling I was going to chase for the rest of my life. "Breed me," I grunted. I was on the verge of tears, so happy that Alex was impregnating me with his seed. "Fuck, this is nice," Aiden whispered. "You taking that hot load." "TAKE IT," Alex grunted once more. He was in his own world, where the only thing that mattered was his cock and how good it felt. I squeezed my ass, massaging and milk his dick. I tried to tell myself it was just to give pleasure to Alex, but I knew that my single focus was getting more seed in my hole. "Fuck, you're a hungry guy," Aiden said. I squeezed my hole again, and was rewarded by a visceral grunt from Alex plus another squirt of his precious jizz. It landed directly into my rectum.

I haven’t written in a while as all my last several fucks have been relatively ordinary, which is to say one-on-one, or at most getting two different loads by the end of the night, but that all changed tonight. I was horny as fuck, drinking wine, and smoking a couple of joints with some friends when this thick veiny-dicked dude called me, saying he wanted to come over to breed my hole. He’s an older man, 48, hairy, well built and with those cocks that for some reason have a protruding lower vein like some misshaped fruit, making the dick hard to ride and kinda painful but once it gets going it's clear he'll wreck the hole he is fucking. True to his word he came right over, but sadly didn't take long to cum. Still I rode him for a while, squeezing my asshole to make sure he opened me well, and as planned, he soon blasted his load deep inside my guts. Afterwards we chatted a bit while I checked Grindr where I learned a friend from school was going to the bathhouse downtown so I reached-out to him, suggesting we go together. He readily agreed. The only day the bathhouse opens all night is on Saturday, until 8:00 AM Sunday morning, so as to catch all the horny party men on the way home. I was cautiously optimistic I'd get several loads without the necessity of fending off rubbers. We got there and my friend and I walked into the dry chamber and I started to blow him. He’s got a really thick and curved dick, so I swallowed it whole and was soon jumping on top of it as seven to nine guys gathered to watch. I counted them as I checked out their dicks, beckoning each one to come forward for a blow while I got fucked. While most of the guys were receptive to my invitation, there was one man who was playing shy most didn’t come over, but eventually he stepped forward and, after some effort, I had his exceptionally long, monster dick which I finally got down my throat, as the man's balls bounced against my chin. After several minutes of working monster dick, I decided to give my jaws a break, so I released the monster dick as I also slid off my friend's cock, and turning around, decided I'd finish off my friend with a blow job. The monster dick, however, was not so easily the discouraged as, without any preliminaries, the monster dick slid into my ass, giving me a vigorous fuck. The audience was getting bigger, and another guy approached us and took my hands towards his cock, which was thick, veiny, long, big - in short, a cock I'd be happy to breed me. “I’m about to cum. Where do you want it?” asked the monster dick in my ass. I couldn't effectively answer him as I was deep-throating my friend. Instead I reached behind myself, grabbed him about his waist, and did my best to hold him steady until he blew. Moaning and grunting, the man stood still until his balls released his sweet liquid in my guts. Two loads so far. Not a bad day. He withdrew and to my great pleasure, the thick, veiny, long cock I noticed earlier slid into my ass. It may have hurt like hell, but the idea of having a dick stirring the two loads inside me helped me take it like a man. He fucked me for a while and was soon announcing that he’d cum soon. “You want it? Beg me for it”, he commanded. Fuck, is attitude got me going. The're nothing like a man who recognizes another's need to be recognized as a cumwhore. “Breed that hole, man, leave that load deep and don’t pull out till every drop is in me”, I said, making sure I was heard. He groaned, moaned and was soon awarding me with my third load of the night, withdrawing only after I relaxed my ass muscles, releasing his cock to make its departure. After this I stood-up, stretched, retrieved my towel and walked straight into the little dark room that’s next to the first floor terrace, hoping as I did so, that some of the crowd would follow me. As soon as I got in a found his big bellied hairy guy just sitting there in the darkness with a really low hanging dick. I was soon on my knees deep-throating that soft meat, that sadly wouldn’t get hard for another while. Fortunately I saw a skinny shadow come towards me. The skinny guy thoughtfully guided my hand towards his crotch where, hot damn, I found more big dick. It was amazing. He turned me around, pushed my head down to continue sucking on the big bellied guy and shoved his dick in my ass. Fuck yes, another big dick was now stirring the three loads in my hole. He fucked me hard and fast, being really loud with the grunting and making sure our skins clapped against each other. A crowd formed in the darkness, and people kept trying to grab my chest and arms and hard dick. When the grunting and moaning got more intense and then quickly subsided I turned around with him still in me and asked “Did you fill that hole good?” “Fuck yes,” he replied, a note of satisfaction in his voice. Abruptly I heard someone moan in the darkness as one of the onlookers came. How the exchange between me and the top could get someone off in a dark room is beyond me, but who am I to judge? He pulled out and I felt something big open my ass. I couldn’t fucking believe I had another big dick mixing up his DNA with the other four loads I had inside. I sensed this guy was older, and his dick was something out of this world - one of those huge cocks that completely fills-up and stretches open a bottom's cavities. The guy leaned over, presenting me with some welcome poppers, giving me time to take several huffs before he proceeded to plow me hard, using a methodical, rhythmic pattern of thrusts that reduced me to a true fuck hole. It was fucking perfect. He asked me for the poppers back and took a hit, telling me he’d come soon. I said aloud “Please fill that hole, sir,” and he followed suit in perfect order. Now, five fucking loads one right after the other from five fucking big dicks don’t happen often where I live, so I had to cherish the moment. Another dick walked behind me and I felt someone lean on me and whisper my name, asking “How many loads to have there, you cunt?” I knew it was my buddy, who I had accompanied in this trip to the bathhouse. "Five," I replied, a smile on my lips. I sensed he was jerking himself off fast, and his cock head was colliding with my ass lips. “Get ready for the sixth,” he said, shoving his terribly thick dick in me. His cock was that which pushed me over the line: I went from spongy to rock hard in seconds, and a load blew out of my cock within a minute or so, leaving the room redolent with the smell of cum, sweat, poppers and ass juices. I turned around and we kissed, celebrating a very successful visit to the bathhouse. After that I got my towel, walked out of the little dark room, took a shower and called a taxi. I'm now heading to bed, the DNA of six different men swirling inside my ass. I can only hope not much will cum will show-up when I make my bathroom call tomorrow morning. Wish me luck.

A pulse of lightly scented steam rose shrouding me deeper in a mythical mist as droplets of sweat ran from my neck down my torso, I placed the palm of my hands on my young smooth chest and rubbed it in. In the distance shuffling could be heard which told me I was not alone in the steam room but the dense mist made it impossible to make anything out. I had just turned 18, and had decided as a present to myself I would venture in to my first gay sauna and my first man-on-man gay experience. Don't get me wrong. I had done my fair share of masturbating to online gay porn, and it was while searching the internet for additional sex outlets that I first encountered an advertisement for the bathhouse in which I found myself. I had had to dig deep to find the courage to concoct a convincing web of deception to convince my conservative family I would celebrate my 18th with my friends, so I would be occupied all Saturday afternoon and that evening as well. Meanwhile, I googled the bathhouse for reviews and saw some comments such as 'Guaranteed to get your ass pounded here!' and 'Full of horny fit guys in their 20's and 30's', 'Way to many tops and not enough bottoms to knock up for real', and another which read 'Notorious breeding ground'. Hindsight would have been a great thing at the time but when sensibility and the mix of adrenaline and lust clash, sensibility has no chance of winning out, and so it was with me. On the designated Saturday I left the house in mid-morning, when to the barber where I asked him to cut my hair back to a number 1, and by mid afternoon I arrived outside the bathhouse. Walking in to the small reception room I paid, got my locker key and towel, and was directed to the changing rooms just past the bar lounge. The clerk also mentioned the sauna and steam rooms were on the lower floor. As I walked through the bar lounge I noticed three men who, I assumed, were taking a break. Each gave me a furtive glance. Stepping into the locker room, I quickly changed, and then returned my locker key to the admission clerk, and then headed directly downstairs. Another wave of steam hit me as I began to really enjoy this and the thought of sex had long since diminished, I hear more shuffling a blast of cool air which was a sign that the door had been opened. I could just make out the shape of a couple of bodies, one of which was seated on the bench next to me on my left, the other to my right. Each was far enough away I was unable to get more than a vague impression. I also recall being quite struck me by the quiet. Apart from the hissing of the steam vent there was very little sound. Still, the proximity of the two men brought me back to reality and the real reason I had come to the bathhouse. Then another cool blast of air announced someone had entered the steam room. The vague outlines of various men moved in and out of my limited field of vision, each man's shape shrouded by the dense mist. A hand appeared and ran down my chest and his shape became clearly visible as he moved closer to me noticing the a well defined arm with a tattoo sleeve gave me the most incredible erection. What do I do? Should I return the stroke, or perhaps kiss him? I had no idea how this was suppose to play out. Fortunately the man was far more knowledgeable than I, and wordlessly taught me the etiquette of a steam room. His hand moved to my shoulder, then neck, drawing my head in his direction. His body and face loomed in my line of vision, the striking chiseled features of his face moved ever closer as he leaded in to my mouth, a kiss landing on my lips, which were closed. Still, suspecting my niavete, his tongue moved about my mouth, his saliva moistening my lips as his tongue slid between my lips. My lips were receptive to his advance, and my mouth partially opened only for his lips to lock against mine as his warm tongue explored mine. After 30 or so seconds of this intimacy, he pulled away, although a dribble of his saliva still connected our mouths. A smile crossed his handsome face as, having given me a warm look, he dove back in with increased intensity, his right arm, which was wrapped behind my neck, pulled me closer as his left hand grabbed my right hip, gesturing for me to straddle his lap. Obliging his direction, I positioned myself over his crotch, and in descending, my ass encountered his erection, which was rock hard, and difficult to control as it settled nestled between my ass cheeks. Still, sitting face to face with one arm now holding me steady on his lap I felt his other hand caressing my buttocks then pulling as he slipped his hand to my hole he began gently rubbing at first. Gradually one probing finger coaxed its way into my hole. Eyes wide with startlement, I tried to protest but his mouth was still locked against mine and, as the pained eased off, I clasped him about his neck and responded to his kissing as simultaneously his finger explored my hole. He pulled his finger out quickly causing my body to tense his hand rubbed my back causing a pool of sweat that he guided to my ass and rubbed it in to my hole this time with two fingers causing my back to arch slightly. In vain I attempted to moderate his activity by gripping his arms, but his sweat made it impossible so I resumed my clasp around his neck. I must admit, moreover, by this time, my mouth now completely invaded by his tongue, and feeling lightheaded from the heat and steam, I neither wanted to, nor realistically could break free from him. Every now and then the man tightened the bicep of the arm which was holding my back, which gave me a comfort of feeling controlled. I was clearly in the grasp of a very experienced man who understood positive and negative reinforcement as sporadically he would withdraw this fingers from my ass, which left me feeling an immense sensation of release, but which also left me yearning for that moment he would slid his fingers back into my ass. In one such cycle the man broke off our kiss, and, spitting into his hand, we resumed our kiss as his hand moved slightly further down my back. Almost involuntarily I felt my body rising slightly only for a searing pain to shoot through my body. Naturally I wriggled to escape it the shocking pain, but the man clamped his arm firmly behind my back, preventing me from forcing a withdraw. Breaking off the kiss, I buried my face in his neck and groaned loudly. I knew his cock head had penetrated my ass: my virginity and body were forever parting company. The man reached behind my neck with his free arm, pushing my body downwards. By this point I was so overwhelmed with pain I was prepared to forcibly raise myself off of his cock, exclaiming a loud "NO" as he pushed my body downwards, forcing me to take more of him in to my ass. I gasped for breath - my body was being pushed further and further down on his cock, my moans and cries had brought other guys closer as they watched the transformation of a virgin. Tears mingled with the sweat as I came to rest on his lap, his cock now fully immersed in my arse. Almost immediately the pain began ebbing and was being replaced by a gentle internal caressing sensation, a sensation I was not keen on ending. My ass still felt as if to be on fire, but still I didn't want to stop. Raising my face to his, my lips greeted his mouth we resumed a now incredibly sensual kiss. My ass was also now responding to its own desires, rocking to and fro with small rise and fall movements which continued for what seemed like an eternity, the pain now replaced by intense pleasure. The sudden tight locking of his arms around my body forced me to expel what air I had in my lungs in to his mouth as he sounded a loud grunt directly into my mouth. Simultaneously his cock further hardened, swelled, and went rigid as a torrent of warmth flowed into my arse, the first wave of his ejaculation now planted seed deep inside me. I tried to catch a breath but his grip was so tight I couldn't pull air in to my lungs and in rapid succession of pulses stream after stream of his seed flowed in to my body. My head collapsed against his neck as I strove to catch my breath, but the man's grip was so tight around my body I could only manage short pants. In the aftermath of his orgasm, his cock twitched in my arse, the last drops of cum oozing into my hole, as ever so slowly the man released his grip, leaving me to find I had also shot my load - without even realising as much. His mouth sought mine and we kissed deeply as I remained impaled by his large still erect cock buried deep. Bodies appeared next to us, wandering hands sought to explore, only to be quickly pushed away by my maker. He was adamant. He alone would play with me. He alone would be inside my body. Slowly the gathering crowd moved away, still optimistically lurking in the dense mist, awaiting the master to release me, his prey. We broke from our kiss and he pulled me in to his neck and locked his arms around me securely. Involuntarily I winced as pain ran through my arse: again he was pushing his hips upwards, clearly indicating he was ready for another round, so I clasped my hands behind his neck and shoulders and resumed an up/down movement. My ass might have been sore, if not completely in fire with pain, but I knew trying to stop would be futile now, especially as he had now begun his second assault on my young body. I was a quick learner. Without hesitation my head moved to his and we engaged in another sensual kiss as my ass rocked faster as his manhood continuously speared my hole. Sweat was running down both of our bodies making if difficult for us to keep hold of each other. The man thrust up, perfectly meeting my downward motion. Each time I hit bottom I moaned loudly into his mouth. He broke the kiss, looked me in the eyes, his arms tightened again around my back. I knew full well what was coming. I found myself staring deep into his eyes as he moved in for the kill. Sharply tightening his grip, the air escaped my lungs as my back tried to arch away. My chest was being crushed against his. I couldn't expand my chest to draw a complete (and badly needed ) breath. My arse was forced down harder on his cock. Letting out a low long moan, the man's cock twitched as his pushed his hips up getting as deep as could and began releasing the first of five waves of his seed firing deep in to my ass. I collapsed against his body whilst he held me tight. Finally I could at last get air back in to my lungs and, shaking off the grogginess from lack of oxygen, I panted heavily against his neck. I might have felt violated and destroyed by this man but I was also overcome with lust and desire for his sex. My senses gradually came around. I knew my body had taken enough. Again kissing the man on his lips, I slowly lifted my ass off his cock, in the process emitting a slight cry of discomfort. I didn't anticipate the withdraw of his cock would be as challenging as its entrance. The man released his grip from around my back and I got to my feet, but as I was visibly unsteady, the man stood with me, escorting me out of the steam room and into the showers where he stood next to me, stroking my back as the cool water poured over my head and body, greatly refreshing me. The man, by this time, had taken the adjoining shower head as he also wanted a clean-up. This was the first time I had the opportunity to get a clear, unimpeded view of the man. He was about six feet in height, heavily tattooed, easily in his late 20's with a beautifully muscled arms, defined torso and strong legs. Still no word spoken between us he caught me looking at him so he cupped my face and gave me deep french kiss. I placed the towel around my waist and sat down on a nearby bench to relax, and I must have dozed a minute or so, for when I opened my eyes, I saw the man was gone. A couple of men walked through the corridor, obviously assessing the situation but I decided to head home so I went upstairs, retrieved my key, and entered the locker room where I saw only one guy was delving into his locker. I opened my locker and looked-up just as the other man in the locker room moved in my field of vision, revealing his back and the tattoos which adorned his body: dead square in the middle was a biohazard tattoo and, on his left shoulder blade, a scorpion. Then turning around I came face-to-face with the man who took my virginity. He gave me a warm smile. I was not so stupid that I didn't understand the implications of the tattoos. Fear froze me to the spot: a poz guy had just shot two loads deep into my body, and his cum was still inside me. I returned his smile, stepped into the toilet, where I did my best to push his seed out, but my arse was sore and burning, and each attempt came to naught. Wiping my arse, I noticed tell tell signs of blood on the tissue. Seated on the toilet, my head in my hands, I was beside myself and angry he could do such a thing, but then again I shared the blame as I never insisted on a condom and just allowed him to fuck me. I went back to the locker room to find it completely empty. Resigned to my fate I opened the locker door to find a note which contained both a message and a mobile number. The message read "Best fuck ever. You will want more of me and when you do, call me as I really enjoyed breeding you. I'm available whenever you need me." Looking at the note I realised my cock was rock hard so I folded the note away and put it in my trouser pocket and finished changing.

Midnight "C'mon! Up-ee!" Manetti came in the room clapping his hands, startling Chris. The room had a foul stench. Chris was sweating profusely, and had moistened the bedsheets with their dried butt juice from earlier that day. The kid was oblivious to the stink, awash in perpetual, carnal thoughts, though if you pressed him he couldn't tell you one of them. Manetti turned off the electro kit and started taking off all of Chris attachments. Manetti smacked his lips, his nostril flaring with powder. "Swear to Christ, you should be paying me for this first one. It's a twofer and you better not fuck up. Client wants his puppy to try Tina, so it has the potential to be interesting. Ah," Manetti said, pausing to admire the hour's growth of Chris' nipples, "Look at those sweet tits, man. Beautiful little eraser heads." Manetti twisted them. Chris looked down to see his nips were pretty hefty now. Nowhere near Manetti’s and far from Master Drax's, but much more plump than the tiny pimples he had before. Manetti pulled out the sound and butt plug without much protest from Chris. He untied the kid, and plunked him in the shower to wash some of the bed crud off. He needed to be, at the very least, presentable. Tricks could fuck him up as much they wanted, but let him at least start from a baseline of decency. They left their cabana amidst men walking around cruising each other and taking off to the shadows where portable slings had been set up. All around, under the throbbing disco music, moans of sex and the scent of reefer and poppers filled the night. Manetti led the way holding a prepared .3 rig in one hand and Chris' dog leash in the other. Both wore their white towels and masks as did everyone on the grounds. Manetti walked up to the cabana next to theirs, Chuck Brunswick's and Andy's, and knocked. Chris looked at all the men walking by. Some stared at him, licking their chops. He licked his chops hungrily back at them until Manetti yanked his leash. "Focus," Manetti said. In the garden shadows, Chris made out slings clanking in secluded walkways. Fireflies winked their little lights in the dark. *** Andy Hollister, in the bright California sunlight, had eyes that shined a luminescent aquamarine. No joke. What the TV star saw when he emerged from his trailer in Santa Monica, ready to film another boring expositional beach scene with his co-star, L.A. Police Chief Roy Ebbing, was Andy playing volleyball with the other day players. The extra, even from a distance had mesmerizing eyes. Dark brown hair, a sculpted brow, a wiry frame—the kid wasn’t tall, but he was excellent at spiking the ball from a running start. Chuck Brunswick couldn’t think of one beach he’d been to—Cyprus, Oaxaca, Zakynthos Island of Greece—that was of a clearer blue than the happy kid in the sand. Andy was assigned a background role of volleyball player that Stacks Lightning would pass on the boardwalk while milking Police Chief Ebbing for intel. Walk-and-talk scene were typically the most boring parts of the script to film—pure exposition. But that day, with a hot young twink consistently in his line of sight, each take they did gave the actor a pleasant distraction from the humdrum dialog. After the shoot, Brunswick got the front office to track down the extra and called in a favor from one of the executive producers. Andy was offered a Production Assistant’s job, which, to him, came out of the blue but he was eager to accept it. It paid little, but more than his waiter job, and the glamor of working on one of television most popular shows made him the envy of all his friends in the San Fernando Valley, especially his girlfriend who told everyone that Andy was starting to make it big in Hollywood. On set, Brunswick started hitting Andy up to fetch things: coffee, newspapers, cocaine (discretely from one of the prop guys). Their friendship, mentorship, whatever you want to call it, grew to where Brunswick had him running dialog with him between takes. One night they were filming a chase sequence at a refinery in El Segundo. The shoot ended about four in the morning and Brunswick was pretty wired from the fight sequences and the cocaine he’d been doing with Andy in his trailer. As the film company was breaking down their equipment, Brunswick mentioned he was concerned for Andy riding out to the valley so late. Why didn’t he follow him home and he could stay in the downstairs guest house. His one and only tenant had recently vacated and he could spend the night there, no problem. Andy enthusiastically agreed and follow him on his Kawasaki back to Brunswick's Malibu pad. The house was built on the cliffs with its pier foundation drilled deep into rocks below. The main overhanging house had a small studio apartment tucked underneath where Brunswick said he could crash. When they entered, day was breaking. From the hallway Andy could see another bright, azure sky unfolding over the Pacific. He’d seen sunrises, of course, but never anything so amazing where blue ocean folded into blue sky. Brunswick, looking into Andy’s eyes, felt the same amazement. He took the boy’s face in his hands and spontaneously kissed him. “Whoa. Dude!” Andy said, jumping back, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome or unexpected. With each step of their increasing intimacy, Andy had gotten closer and more in tune with the actor’s unspoken needs. First minor incidental touches, a pat on the back, say, might be replaced with a tap on his butt; Brunswick coming out of the shower to run lines with him, the star would linger spending an inordinate amount of time naked, fluffing up his package, drying himself off. Once, running lines with him next to the catering truck on the studio backlot, Brunswick got up to a part in the script where he was supposed to kiss this week’s babe. As he got to that part, he reached out, putting a hand on Andy’s face and said, “This is where I kiss you.” Andy had never forgotten that confusing moment because right on the heels of that, Brunswick’s blond-haired teenage son and his ex-wife came on set and went off to his trailer to sign some papers. “Fuckin’ look at your eyes, man,” Brunswick said to him at the beach house that early morning. Andy, rather than backing off and playing coy, came forward and pressed his face against that famous mustache. He moved in that week, broke off with his girlfriend, and never left Brunswick’s side. Or a better way to say it is that Brunswick never let him leave his side. Once Andy moved in, in small and subtle ways, Brunswick started to narrow his exposure with anyone else. His valley friends weren’t to visit the house. “They’re black holes that only want to be your friends so they can hang out in Malibu.” Andy disagreed but not fervently enough to actually invite any of his friend over. One by one, friends, even family, contacted him less and less. The studio apartment downstairs where he ostensible lived was rarely used, only when studio executives came over for a dinner meeting would Andy be required to remain downstairs until they left. Brunswick nonchalantly suggested clothing Andy might wear, taking him eventually into Beverly Hills, picking out all his outfits. He adopted this dapper wardrobe, a sweater tied round his Lacoste shirt, as his new style. From happy, grungy valley kid to serious, snappy preppy boy in less than a year. The second year they lived together, Brunswick had him quit his job as a PA, persuading him he’d be more content to stay home and enjoy the solitary beach, cook meals, clean, and wait for him every evening for his return. Andy was his servant, secretary, and—to Andy, anyway—his lover. He dressed in a manner that pleased Brunswick; taking on the interests the actor had, the conservative politics the actor espoused. He came round to enjoying the finer things Brunswick exposed him to. When the actor was on hiatus, they traveled to Paris, Bangkok, Rio, took meals at the finest London restaurants, stayed at the best Mediterranean villas. He was introduced to famous and, sometimes, infamous acquaintances, artists, politicians, shady characters that had “boys” of their own. It was on a flight to New York with a connecting seaplane after that, that brought Andy face to face with a naked Chris Prior standing in front of him, and a man he’d met that day called Manetti, a pretty sketchy character if you wanted to know the truth, who was running a hand down the skinny blond kid’s torso, fluffing up his dick, displaying him like he was some county fair animal, like a slab of prime meat brought over as a main course by a swarthy Italian waiter. "One hundred to fuck him. Two to fist," Manetti informed Brunswick. "Same price for two of us, right?" Brunswick inquired. Manetti nodded. "Does he top or only bottom?" "Dunno," Manetti said honestly perplexed. “It’s never come up. Can you fuck, boy?" "Fuck who?" Chris asked, only semi-aware he was on display, naked in front of Chuck and Andy, both draped in their towels while he was not. "You’d fuck Andy, of course," Brunswick said. "And you're neg, right?" "Yes, Sir, sir. Practically a virgin," replied Chris, giving Andy a lascivious examination. Andy thought that this didn’t seem like the same kid running around the pool a couple of hours ago. The kid in front of him now was as crude as Manetti. He also noticed the blond was getting a pretty big hardon. "And I’ll admin to your boy, too," Manetti added, "no charge except for product. Point three is my reco. It’ll pack a pretty good wallop for a first timer." "Alright," Brunswick said, reaching for his wallet and pulling out several bills and handing them to Manetti. Andy looked alarmed. “Wait, what’s this admin stuff?” “You know how we’ve been trying to get you into fisting?” Brunswick began in his persuasive tone. Andy looked at Manetti quickly. “Well, this should open you up. It’s Tina and you inject it. You trust me, don’t you, son?” “I don’t know, Chuck,” Andy said looking at the ominous needle in Manetti’s hand. “Can’t I just snort it like we do coke? “Much better to have it injected, Chief,” Manetti advised. “Trust me, you’ll love it.” That was enough for Andy to sour on the whole deal. He didn’t like Manetti. Certainly would never trust him. “Aw, c’mere Raggedy Andy,” Chuck said, pulling Andy in close, stroking his bicep and chest. Andy went limp in his arm like he always did. “Remember our first night after you got your implants?" Manetti asked quizzically. "Implants?" "Yeah, how do you think my boy got so buff? No gym membership needed," Brunswick replied. He ran his hand lavishly over the boy’s expensive biceps, the sculpted deltoids and yoked traps. “Baby, you remember how good the painkillers were the doctor proscribed? How I almost got all my fingers inside you? Well, this will be a hundred times better than that.” Chris chimed in, “Yeah, you'll feel, like, so great and you get this big rush, bigger than when you take a hit of coke. It’s a million times more better.” Andy stared at Chris’ growing erection and started to feel his own dick start to rise. “Okay, but you’re staying here the whole time, Chuck, right?” He definitely did not want to be alone with this thug Manetti with his prominent biohazard belly tattoo. “The whole time, buddy. The whole time,” Chuck reassured him. “Why don’t I hold you, while Manetti injects you? I’ll hold you, son, if you like.” Andy nodded, still nervous. Brunswick got situated at the headboard and pulled Andy in between his legs, put one arm on a shoulder and started massaging him, his other hand traveled over Andy's downy chest. Manetti sat next to Andy, propped a pillow under his arm, and told him to make a fist. Andy followed his instruction, and Manetti went in search of a vein. Chris sat at the edge of the bed and witnessed each detail. His hardon said how hot he was for this young man, admiring the short dark hairs that were just starting to cover his sculpted chest, the tufts of black hair tucked under his carved arms. “I can see you’re scared,” Manetti said, “I’ll just do half. You tell me if you want it all. Sound good?” Andy like the idea and nodded. His white skin displayed many prominent blue vein possibilities. “Let's do this one, Chief,” he said poking a ridge on his forearm. “Ready?” Andy’s face said he wasn’t but Manetti went on anyway. “Okay think of a nice place you really like.” Andy thought of that first night at Chuck’s, looking out the window watching the day break, seeing fins, dolphin fins in the distance. Manetti stuck him and pulled back the plunger and Andy’s red blood swirled mixing with the crystal meth. Or could they have been shark fins? “Here we go,” Manetti said slowly pushing half the vial contents into him. Andy felt an increasing warm bath of joy. How wonderful his life was, how sexually strong his feeling was about Chuck, how good it was that Chuck guided him, protected him, even controlled him a little. Just this much of crystal was perfect. He held up a hand to Manetti saying as much. “Do the rest of it,” Chuck said coolly to Manetti. “Wait,” Andy said. Manetti smirked and emptied the remaining meth. Andy sucked in a breath through teeth-gritted. His eyes spun. He went from a smile to a grimace, back to a smile, then he lost all cognizance of where he was. “See,” said Brunswick, “you love it don’t you, baby? Daddy know best, doesn’t he?” “Ah, fuck, daddy,” stammered Andy, remembering Chuck was there, holding him. “Fuck, this is so good. Ah, fuck, fuck.” Chris put his hand under Andy’s towel and started stroking his small penis. Brunswick undraped Andy and told Chris to suck him. Chris did, with pleasure. Andy moaned on the bed wanting to get up, but Brunswick held him back. Unable to move, simply taking in all the sensation of his first major Tina rush, he ran his hands over Chris’ blond mop, humping his mouth. Brunswick toyed with Andy’s nipples, played with the boy like he was a life-size doll. Picked up his long, thin hand and sucked his fingers, bent over and put his tongue in his ear. "You like what daddy gives you? A cute, little teddy bear to suck your pretty little dick, a big bad wolf to shoot you up, and daddy who's finally going to get his big paw inside you tonight." "Fuck," said Andy barely aware of what Brunswick was saying, keenly aware of how good he felt, how good a cocksucker was deep-throating him, getting his pubes so wet and warm. Who was slipping a thin, wet finger across his silky crack? Who slid a finger against his velvety hole? Who wiggled its way inside? Andy wanted to slide down on this finger, and Brunswick released him. He slid down and wormed his way onto the finger that prodded against him. "Fuck," he cried as the finger passed inside him. As the drug pulsed through his body, lust encouraged him to push down on the finger so it would go in deeper. "Yeah, that's it baby. Let the whore finger fuck you." Chris continued playing with Andy's hole. Pushing in deeper, taking his finger out, licking two, tasting Andy's musky juice, slipping the two wet fingers back into his hole, twisting them slowly. He ran his tongue up the shaft, felt the treasure trail of black hairs that left his dark bush and swirled up to his belly. Chris kept going till his hands reached the few hairs that speckled Andy’s breast bone between his pec implants. Watching Chris work on Andy got Manetti aroused. His job done he pulled into the room's shadows and observed. Chris was getting the fucked up kid to squirm, adding in an occasional nasty sounding, yeah, fuck yourself on my fingers, yeah, that's it, let yourself enjoy it. Brunswick was also enjoy it, playing with himself, taking a swig of absinthe from the nightstand, putting it back, reaching forward and playing with Chris' nice eraser head nips. "Alright. Up on your knees boys. Stick your dick in Andy, boy." Andy slowly crawled onto all fours, with Chris sliding between his legs. Manetti came out of the shadows to hand Chris some lube. Chris covered his erection with thick, viscous grease and spread a little over Andy's hole. He rubbed his dick up and down Andy's crack. "You want this cock? Tell me you want it." "I want it. I want your cock," Andy responded breathlessly. "Good." He pushed Andy's shoulders down so his head was on the bed, then started pushing his cockhead into him. Andy sucked in air when Chris’ purple head first popped in. Chris pulled out a little then pushed back again. "That's it, take it in." Behind him, Chris felt Brunswick's large paw press him onto Andy's body. Chris fell on top of Andy's back and Brunswick spread his legs and pushed his cock into Chris' accepting hole. Chris was a lot looser than Andy and Brunswick quickly slid up to his root, hairy dark pubes rubbing against the boy’s hairless hole. A big beer can dick Brunswick had. Not long but meaty and thick. Chris jabbed Andy fiercely, and just as fiercely pushed his ass back on Brunswick. The three of them found a rhythm they could sustain. Andy stayed passive, letting Chris fuck him hard, emitting small cries of satisfaction with each slam. Chris reached around and jacked Andy's pecker till it got stiff. The young man’s pubes were like silk, and his felt him up, all that pubic hair he was denied. He squeezed and pulled on Andy’s balls, which Andy protested at first but then started enjoying it. Chris’ own balls swung in their heavy metal sleeve, smacking into Andy’s. "Baby, you got a great ass," Brunswick hoarsely whispered in Chris’ ear. "Ah, fuck, Sir. Your boy does too," Chris answered back. It was true. It was the first boy pussy he’d ever fucked, and its creaminess, on top of the dominance he felt over someone like never before, was getting him close to cumming. "Ung," Chris uttered, deep guttural expression of enjoyment each time he slammed into Andy ass. "Ung-ung-ung..." he repeated with every piston thrust of his hips. He was banging back and forth in the erotic sensation of simultaneously fucking a soft, tight hole with his long dick, and being fucked by a thick daddy cock banging into his ass. Part of his brain fantasized about the hairy bush he was backing into, Stacks Lightning. But it was the actual hard man he felt inside him, grunting, animal-like, lewdly talking in his ear. "How old are you anyway?" Chris grunted. "Bet my son’s age. You like daddy fucking you, son? Daddy wanted to fuck you for a long time." Not only did Chris grunt in the affirmative, the confession hinting of a secret desire for incest made him blow immediately, deep within Andy, pouring a steady stream of cum into the kid. Andy, too, felt Chris’ rhythmic climax and also came hard into Chris' fist. Loud and lewd, the boy’s stuttered over each other a smattering of oh fucks and oh shits, while they nutted. Brunswick disengaged frustrated quickly after, looked at Manetti sitting in a chair stoking his big Italian cock. "What?" Manetti protested. He could see Brunswick was irritated, that he was just getting started when the boys finished themselves off. Manetti argued, "They’re teenagers for fuck sake! They can't help it! They’d cum every fifteen minutes like coo coo clocks if you let him." "I expected him to keep it going for more than two minutes. We still have fifty-five minutes, right? Jesus Christ!" Chris wiped Andy’s cum on the bed. "I'm sorry, Sir. I won't cum so fast next time, but your boy’s cunt feels so good." Chris began rubbing two fingers over Andy's dripping hole. He wanted to immediately dive deeper. He was still fucking horny. "Boys, on you backs," barked Brunswick. "Chariot time." He pulled the ottoman from under Manetti's feet and positioned himself between the two boys who had their asses at the edge of the bed waiting. Manetti tried to make peace, and came over and spread grease over Brunswick's hands. The hand ready for Chris' hole Manetti applied a lot more grease to the actor's forearm. He made sure Brunswick understood the implications. Manetti applied two fingers of grease on both boy's holes and pushed it in, then spread some around inside their holes. Andy's hole, replete with short dark boy hair, felt incredible, but also puckered tight. Chris looked at Manetti with intense excitement and anticipation. Manetti held up a single finger as a warning. Chris pouted. Andy looked at Brunswick a little frightened, but excited in anticipation all the same. Brunswick stuck in two fingers in both boy's ass lips and twisted. Andy yelped while Chris moaned deeply. "Do a couple hits, boy,” Brunswick encouraged Andy. Manetti sat on the bed next to him, uncapped the bottle and fed it to the boy. Brunswick felt his hole loosen considerably so he slipped in a third finger. Chris had no problem with two fingers or the third that was incoming. He rocked his butt to take Brunswick’s fingers all the way to his knuckles in one go. Brunswick pushed in three fingers in each boy, easily slipping into Chris, not so easy with Andy. Chris reached over and stuck his tongue in Andy's mouth, surprising him with a passionate kiss. The poppers aroused Andy's lust. He liked kissing Chris in front of his mentor, started making out with Chris passionately, much to the pleasure of both Brunswick and Manetti. Chris whispered nastily, "Fuck yeah. Let your daddy fist us. Let daddy take our holes." Chris looked in the boy's deep blue eyes and saw lust building, as Brunswick added a fourth finger. Chris wiped some lube off his butt and stroked Andy's shriveled cock. It didn't get hard but it did get Andy to start pushing down on Brunswick's hand. Manetti let them share the poppers, each taking a hit, then another. Then both boys began desperately pushing their holes trying to take Brunswick's meaty paw. "That's it, son. Bear down on daddy. Look what a good job Chris is doing." Having Chuck Brunswick's hand inside him was his goal since he saw the lightning bolt suitcases outside the cabana. Chris swallowed his hand in one greedy gulp and let out a passionate cry of achievement. Both his hands flew above his head in passionate surrender, wallowing in the accomplishment, squeezing and releasing the monstrously large hand inside him. Brunswick kept twisting inside Chris' expanded hole, while he still toyed with opening up his boy. Brunswick's hand was bigger than Manetti's, but Manetti definitely possessed better technique. Manetti continuously checked in with his bottom, whereas Brunswick was thoughtless, mechanical. Chris didn't really care though. This is how he imagined Stacks Lightning would fist him: forceful, dispassionate, at times hurting him. It was something he wanted. After several minutes of twisting and re-lubing, and still not getting into Andy, Brunswick was about to give up on both of them. Chris saw his growing frustration. "Let Manetti get him open, Sir. He's got smaller hands," Chris said. With a single raise eyebrow, Manetti protested, and would have said something, but saw the kid was working an angle. Manetti gave Andy a once over, admiring the black pubes on such milky white skin. It got an easy rise out of Manetti, and he gave Brunswick a why-not look. Brunswick assented and turned his attention to Chris' malleable hole, while Manetti took his towel and wiped excess grease from Andy's butt. He knelt down and began lapping at the hole, swirled his tongue in circles, while Andy breathed through clench teeth, relishing the sensation of the man's rough beard and feathery tongue. Brunswick wasn’t into rimming, and since he’d been the one and only man he'd ever had sex with, the thought of someone low enough, someone as rough and criminal looking as Manetti, wanting to put his mouth on his shitter excited him. It was what he expected criminal would like to do. And, man, the feeling of a tongue licking his hole was beyond description. He relaxed and Manetti stuck his tongue inside the kid's rectum, licking the musky flavor of his hole. It drove the kid crazy. He pulled his cheeks apart so Manetti could dig deeper if he wanted. He wanted. Brunswick watched in fascination his boy's hole getting so professionally eaten. He looked at Chris and twisted his hand once more, balling up his fist, and pushing his arm further up Chris' hole. Chris took a hit of poppers and gritted his teeth and pushed his ass onto Brunswick large hairy arm. He went quite a distance on the first try but at a price. The man's knuckled brought him a lot of pain. He lowered his legs and placed them on Brunswick's muscular shoulders and gave them a slight push so his arm pulled out slightly, taking off some pressure. He took another hit and fell in a trace looking at the actor's face. The international spy, Stacks Lightning, had his arm inside his body. How fucking awesome was that? Not as awesome as it would be if he were piston fucking him. So he relaxed his legs on the man's shoulders and felt his mammoth fist slide deep within him. He rocked his feet off the spy's shoulders feeling him go in deep then come out. He kept up the motion seeing it pleased his hero. The more it did the harder he rocked. Chris had been the one in control, determining the rhythm by pushing his feet against Brunswick, but he could see Brunswick wanted to dominate, so he laid back on the bed and pulled his legs apart to show submission. It’s exactly what Brunswick wanted and immediately rose to the challenge. He pulled all the way out and then punched back in. Chris gave into his fantasy that the internationally famous undercover spy, Stacks Lightning, wanted to punch fist him. The spy could do no wrong; he would be this week’s willing bottom. Chris pulled his ass cheeks apart and let him pile drive in first one fist, then the other. He grunted like a swine with each punch, leaving dignity far behind, and snarled and snorted at Brunswick, nodding his head to punch him more and harder. Brunswick had the look of a drunk madman and pummeled the boy's ass mercilessly. If he was damaging the boy, he didn’t care. He allowed him to suck on his popper bottle for a moment, then began again to use the kid’s body as a punching bag. At one point, catching his breath from his battering, he witness Chris pushing out his internal organs. They popped through his hole, lips like a volcano rim with red lava oozing to the surface. What had been a small bloom earlier in the day, now grew to a soft-ball size mound of flesh pushing through. Brunswick used his towel to wipe it, then bent down and, for the first time, started chewing and sucking on Chris' small prolapse. Brunswick had never given in to such depravity, but the sight of this teenager with such a disgustingly obscene asshole, drove him to lick and nibble and kiss it, using his tongue to drive the boy to insanity. To Chris, nothing had ever felt like this. It was like being rimmed by twenty tongues. So many nerve endings were raw and exposed, stimulated all at the same time. If he even thought about jacking himself right now he'd shoot and hit the wall. He left his hard, purple-headed erection alone, and instead grabbed the head of auburn locks attached to his hole and push his rosebud harder against that mouth. The international spy's lips were locked, eating his shithole. How incredibly awesome was that? Not as awesome as the spy’s hand going back inside and starting to punch his organs again. They got into a long series of punching that lasted minutes or hours—time didn't registered. But suddenly his body did something it'd never done before. Brunswick’s fist stayed in the air ready to go back in but he was suspended in curiosity. Chris was convulsing. More than an orgasm that normally started in his balls and shot out of his dick, an earthquake rocked his entire core. He thundered in ecstasy as tremors uncontrollably took over his body. He rode it to what he thought was a finale, but a second, then a third aftershock quickly followed. There was a loud cry out of Andy at the same time. Chris glanced over at Manetti as his body shook. Manetti had just seduced the boy's hole with his hand, popping Andy’s fisting cherry. As he rested inside the kid, letting him get used to what a fist felt like, he said to Chris, "It's a body orgasm. It’s natural." In his old calming voice, he explained to him, "It’s your whole body orgasming not just your balls nutting. Ride it. Enjoy it." Chris spasmed several more times, calming down after a few more seismic quivers. "Oh, shit," Chris said getting up on his elbows looking at Brunswick. "What the fuck did you just do to me," Chris rasped. He sat up on the edge of the bed and, not being able to control himself, pressed his face against Brunswick and stuck his tongue down his idol's throat. He squeezed Brunswick’s cock, which was engorged and dripping. The man eyes were clouded with drink. He threw Chris on his back and stuck him like a pig. Chris squealed in contentment, letting him rut to his heart's satisfaction. He cast an eye over at Manetti, who was still holding silently inside Andy, but saw Manetti inching his cock ever closer to Andy's furry hole. Chris let Brunswick rock away inside him but gradually swung them both away from Manetti and Andy. He wanted all of Brunswick attention, and undulated madly under the man, distracting him with the seductiveness only his hole could provide. He rubbed the man's chest, running sensual fingers over his nipples, rising up to touch his mouth. He felt the bed give and saw Manetti pick Andy up off the bed. Manetti had swapped hand for dick, his mouth clamped onto Andy's mouth, rocking the kid in the air, pounding mercilessly into the boy like a sack of heavy grain. Andy fully surrender to Manetti, wrapped his legs around the man’s waist, and let him fuck him relentless standing by the door. Manetti’s butt clenched wildly. He was coming to a climax. Brunswick started to shift his head toward the standing pair, but Chris moved his head back and heaved himself forcefully on the man's cock. Brunswick still wanted to know what the noise by the door was. Chris took that moment to make him an offer, "Put your hand in me, Chuck, and jack off if you want." The actor refocused on Chris’ face, realizing this boy would let him do whatever he wanted it. Chris spied Manetti climaxing inside the boy, just as Brunswick slipped his entire hand inside Chris’s rectum and started whacking away. The perverseness of fisting and wanking inside an asshole got him to cum quickly. Only after he felt the final hard thrust of the actor’s fist inside him, then did he allow himself to beat off. It took no time at all; within second shot he shot his wad into Brunswick’s chin. A bead of semen clung to the famous mustache like white snot. Brunswick licked it off with a drunken smile. Brunswick slipped his hand and cock out of Chris, just as Manetti eased Andy softly back on the bed. Brunswick was none the wiser to what had just happened to Andy. Chris let the drunk man roll off him, away from Andy and Manetti, and just laid on his back squinting at the ceiling. "Fuck, baby, you are a real whore, aren’t you?" Brunswick said, closing his eyes. He reached over and pinched one of Chris' fat baby nipples. He licked his mustache once more and relaxed in post coital bliss. Chris brought his spread legs around and turned on his side to attend to Andy. Manetti had got what he wanted but just left the kid laying there in a state of shock. Andy looked dazed, staring at Manetti biohazard tattoo, leaking his toxic cum onto the bed sheets. Chris talked to him quietly in his ear. It was okay. It felt good, didn't it? He then bent down and started sucking Andy's small stiff cock while the young man kept staring at Manetti's belly. Chris slipped a single finger in Andy's hole and started pushing in Manetti's drippings. Within only a few moments Andy's body began to rock to the rhythm of Chris' mouth. Chris used more fingers to swab the sheets gathering more cum, and pushed more of Manetti into the kid’s receptive hole. There was plenty of Manetti’s spooge covering the bed, and Chris used all of it to get his small hand back inside Andy. The moment Chris’ fist entered Andy, Andy's head fell back and he shot a fountain of salty white cum into Chris' mouth. Chris hungrily swallowed every drop. Like milk was the kid's fresh cum. Fresh but not so pure. Brunswick was snoring lightly as they gathered their towels and masks to leave. Manetti opened the nightstand drawer and found a large black dildo the same size as his cock. He bent down, gave it to the kid and spoke quietly in his ear. He could see the kid was wide awake and horned out of his mind. "We got another call to make. Practice on this for the next hour, then come find me and I’ll give you the real deal.” He stuck his tongue in the kid’s open mouth. “You got one of the finest pussies I’ve ever had the privilege to fuck,” he said, with the nastiest grin on his face. Andy beamed, and laid there greasing the dildo, while Brunswick turned to his side to sleep the rest of the night away. ***

This is my first ever attempt at fiction, so please be kind, guys! Chapter One: Monday, part one. It started like any other Monday shift in a sauna. Quiet. We had three or four regulars milling about the place but that was about it. Boredom had struck. I grabbed the phone out of its cradle and slipped it into my pocket knowing it would only ring should a customer turn up. I closed the staff only door behind me and headed upstairs. It was time to do the rounds... SIGH! Oh, how rude of me! My name is Alex and I'm 23, short dark brown hair, deep brown eyes and I would say I am what probably gets categorized on dating apps as 'average' body build. My cock is nothing special, about seven inches, fairly thick and uncut. Anyway I reached the top of the stairs and pushed open the first door on the right. The grunts and moans of the porn playing echoed through the empty upstairs but there was no one in sight. I carried on and, in turning the corner, I walked straight into Rob knocking him backwards. His towel dropped and my face reddened. "I am so sorry Rob! I was just doing my rounds!" I stumbled over my words embarrassed that I'd made him drop his towel. "Don't sweat it, kid," came his husky reply, "pass me it back would you." I had known for some time that Rob had a thing for me but was never sure he was my type. Rob was about 40, a chubby hairy bear of a man. Now I should probably explain I am a slut and, as a slut, I either go without underwear or (at most) wear a jock to work in the hope that when my shift is done I can get a little action. Today, however, Rob had a different idea. Turning my back to him, I bent over to grab his fallen towel, and in so doing my loose shorts slowly slipped over my cheeks, the cool air alerting me to the fact my ass was now on show. Before, however, I could even reach around to pull the shorts back around my waist, I felt the soft nuzzle of Rob's warm cock head rub down my crack. "Rob, behave man!" I exclaimed. Rob, however, wasn't listening. In one thrust he was balls-deep bare in my ass. My lips parted and a single whimpering moan of pleasure was all that slipped out. To Be Continued.

Was out running errands and not paying attention to how much gas I had til it was very close to empty. Pulled into a gas station I had never visited before to get some gas. Needed to take a leak so headed to the bathroom after paying the attendant inside after noticing him checking me out or it was my imagination. Got inside took a leak then noticed the gloryhole by the sink or at least I thought it could be. I bent down to check it out when a dick comes thru the other side. It was the attendant's cock. So I sucked it hard before turning around and fucking my ass on his pole. He had just cum when the customer buzzer rang and he went back up front as I pulled up and headed out to finish up my errands before heading home.

In the 80's A few years back, I lived in large cosmopolitan city in the Deep South. Just before I left, I saved up some money, and bought myself one of the quintessential used white vans that could be seen everywhere in the city. I padded and carpeted the back floor, sides, and roof, and put in a small cabinet and extra-heavy curtains behind the cab and on the windows ... the usual stuff for then. I also added something special: a padded sawhorse with restrains on the legs and cross piece. As soon as I had finished, I need to test it. As I lived only a few blocks from downtown, I walked to a local bar, I cruised a number of guys, and settling on a hot looking victim: early-20's, auburn hair, dirty-blonde hair, blue eyes. (Yeah, I'm a sucker for blue eyes.) He said his name was Jim. After chatting a bit, I invited him back to my place for sex. When we got to my place, he said that he didn't get fucked ... that he never had, and never would be, because he was afraid of AIDS, and even a condom might break. I said that I was okay with that. We stripped naked, fooled around a bit, and smoked some weed in my bedroom. I suggested that I show him my van. We both threw on clothes, and went back down to where I parked it. I told him we had to take off our shoes before getting in the back. I grinned when he told me he liked the back, but wasn't sure what the sawhorse was for. I told him I'd demonstrate it. I lay down prone on it first, and let him restrain me. After he let me up, I coaxed my intended victim to lie prone on it, and I secured his wrists, ankles, thighs and chest. I then put a gag in his mouth, and asked what he thought of my contraption. All I heard form behind the gag was a muffled response. I took a knife, and cut off his belt, t-shirt, and jeans. He kept pulling at the restraints and trying to yell while I was doing it, but the restraints were firm and the gag was very effective. I was sure with the padding that no one outside the van could hear him. I got a jar of Vaseline from the cabinet, shucked my clothes, and greased up his asshole. I then spread his ass-cheeks, and pressed my dick head against his hole. He he kept trying to writhe and twist to get away while yelling into the gag. Grabbing his hips, I forced my entire thick rock-hard naked seven inch dick deep inside my victim in one shove. For a second his body froze before he screamed into the gag and fought like mad to get free. I took my time plowing his ass, enjoying how it convulsed around the cock that had destroyed his virginity. He continued to gurgle behind the gag and writhe, still pulling in vane at the restraints. Eventually, I decided I'd had enough, so I fucked him faster until I felt my balls start to draw up. Yelling "Take it, bitch," I rammed in balls-deep and splattered a huge load in him. He was crying as I withdrew my cock from his violated asshole. I cleaned-up myself, cleaned-up his ass, and dressed myself. As I stepped out of the van he resumed yelling into the gag. Perfect: I could barely hear him with the door open; with it shut, I couldn't hear anything at all. I drove the van to a leather bar, and parked it at the far end of the lot before I went inside. One by one, I began approaching men to see if they were interested in what I had to offer. It wasn't long before I found my first taker: an average biker type in boots and jeans. We walked out to my van, and climbed in back. He ran his hands over Jim's ass, murmuring "Nice." Jim pulled desperately at the restraints and yelled into the gag. "He okay with this?" the biker asked. I smiled "Why wouldn't he be?" The biker smirked, "Got it. Besides, I don't fuckin' care." By the time he had his clothes off, his dick was already hard. He stepped between Jim's secured legs, rammed it in and started fucking. In short order he blew a juicy load into Jim's ass. He dressed and we left. "Hot hole. Thanks," he said as he split. Over the next hours, I found eight different guys similar to the biker, all ages and races and sizes, each of whom eagerly mounted, plowed, and shot his load in the restrained victim's rectum. After the second guy, Jim stopped yelling, and began to uselessly blubber pleas behind the gag. His ass filled with more and more cum, some of which dribbled down the insides of his thighs as each new cock displaced some to make room for another guy's load. The last guy was the topper: a old biker, in his late 50's or early 60's, hairy, balding, salt & pepper beard, beer belly, smoking a fat cigar. I took him to the van like all the others, he fingered the cum dripping from Jim's hole, and grinned at me lopsided as he commented "Guess Ah'm not the first tonight, eh? That's okay. Ah like sloppy seconds." He unbuttoned his jeans, and brought out a very large cock and balls that were the size of goose eggs. It only took a few strokes for his cock to become a tool the size of a tall beer can with a huge steel PA. "Holy shit!" I muttered. Grinning lewdly, he asked "Think he can take this?" "He has a choice?" I answered. The biker laughed "Shit, no!" Still smoking his stogie, he stepped in and pressed the head against Jim's hole. "Hold on, fucker. This's gonna be a bumpy ride." He then began pushing himself inside Jim who renewed his whimpering and writhing. He slapped his ass. "Ah'm horny as hell, an' it's my turn at yer butthole." He then forced the entirely of his monster cock up the defenceless asshole, and Jim resumed screaming into the gag. "Take it slut!" Pausing a second, his huge dick buried balls deep in Jim's asshole, he glanced at me and commented "Hot hole... still sorta tight," adding the wry remark "for now." He then vigorously ploughed Jim who turned his face to me, tears streaking his face. I bent down and pretended to listen to him. I told the biker "He said he doesn't get fucked." Demonic lust contorted the biker's face. "That so? Lyin' slut. My dick too big for ya? Too bad." He rammed into Jim, who whimpered and quivered as the biker's trusts became brutal. "Ah'll just teach yer hole to open up an' like it. Ah'll fuckin' make it open up." I got hard watching him assault my victim's hole and my victim's fingers and toes reflexively curling and flexing. The old biker's stamina was incredible. He'd brutally plow Jim non-stop for ten minutes, slow down or stop for a few, his cock still lodged in Jim's ass, only to resume brutally plowing him. Some 45 minutes later he was still at it. He looked over at me and commented "Ah could do this all night, but Ah gotta be at work in a few hours." Grasping Jim's hips tighter, he launched into an assault far more rapid and brutal than the prior ones, his huge balls slapping loudly against Jim's butt. "Gettin' there, slut. Yer hole's wide open an' Ah'm about to blow. Ah yeah. Ah yeah, TAKE IT SLUT!" He threw his head back and bellowed, his monster cock buried to the hilt in Jim's ass. Wave after wave of orgasm wracked the biker as he came and came in Jim. Finally spent, he pulled back abruptly from Jim. "Fuck!" He looked at me. Damned good fuck." He began stuffing his softening cock and balls back in his jeans, the front of which were dark and damp with sweat, ass juices and various loads of cum in Jim's ass. He slapped Jim on the ass. "Hope ya liked that ... Ah sure did! Felt like Ah shot a gallon of cum up yer butthole." He opened the door, stepped out, then turned back with a really evil grin on his face. "By the way, all that hot seed Ah just shot in yer ass? t's dirty ... radioactive ... POZ." He laughed, slammed the door, and walked away. Jim began sobbing. My cock was once more rock hard.

Buddy stood up and stretched his muscles, then grabbed me roughly by the arm, and tossed me into the chair he had just vacated. Grabbing my hips, he pulled me to the edge, flipped my legs up, and began lubing my hole from a bottle of lube he'd brought. The lube burned a bit, and when I bitched, he told me to shut up and take it. Eventually he began sliding his finger in and out then he reached into a pocket, and slid his finger back inside. I could feel that he'd stuck something inside which was when I realized what was happening. He was booty bumping me, with what I had no idea, and without bothering to ask for permission. My asshole was burning, my heart was racing, and suddenly I was a moaning sloppy mess. I'd always enjoyed dosing sluts and taking advantage, and now those tables had turned. 'Look at you, big strong man to tina-whore in one swoop!' He leaned forward, and I felt his cock brushing my hole. I moaned. My hips flexed. The tip entered. He began to open me. I moaned and my hard cock flopped around on my belly, more of his shaft was slipping in and out now, and I could feel his thickness riding my prostate I moaned with pleasure and realized that soon my balls were going to explode. His hips kept rolling that giant shaft deeper and deeper as he continued fucking my virgin hole. His hands fumbled again in his jacket, and he produced a glass pipe and a large lighter. Clicking the trigger, he began to warm the pipe, then drawing the resulting thick white vapour into his lungs. Staring at me, he said, 'Inhale this' As he spoke the words, wisps of white cloud issued from his mouth. Leaning down (and sliding deeper into my spasming hole) he kissed me hard and blew into my lungs. I felt lungs expand with the drugs he was forcing into me. I moaned. My hips flexed. I breathed out. The cloud swirled thickly and I felt the last inches of that huge cock slide home. I was fully opened. Staring down at me, he began to grind into my hole, and play the torch over the pipe again. Breathing deep, then again leaning down to shotgun the potent vapour into my lungs. I groaned aloud as my tortured prostate gave up and pumped my sperm out in an enormous orgasm. The clouds poured out of my throat and I frantically pulled him deeper into me. He began to stroke his cock in and out f me, using my hole thoroughly, long smooth strokes that were quickly carrying me to another orgasm despite my flaccid cock. I moaned and writhed as I cam again, chanting the words 'fuck me' over and over. He grunted and obviously came, pulsing into my begging hole, and continued on still hard. I thanked god for viagra as he slammed into me.

Reminds me of the time this muscular black sailor with a huge dick signaled me to enter his stall on a military base. I had been standing at the urinal and the stall door was only a foot away. From the urinal you could look into the stall from the crack between the door and the wall. I looked through the crack and he was jacking his BBC. He smiled at me and then opened the stall door. I was so nervous but his cock was so stiff. I entered his stall and dropped to my knees and started to suck that huge BBC. When someone else entered the bathroom, I tried to stand-up but he put his hands on the back of my head and kept my mouth on his cock. The guy who entered was a sailor wearing his whites. He went to the urinal and the black guy moved us a bit to his left so the guy at the urinal could not see us through the crack. I was so scared that we would get caught but the black guy just kept his hands on the back of my head. I looked up at him and he had this big grin on his face. When the sailor at the urinal flushed and left, the black guy hung his coat to block the crack and told me to get undressed. I took my clothes off and piled them in the corner. Here I was naked in a stall with this young muscular black stranger. I bend down and started sucking his cock again. While sucking him, he used spit on his finger and reached back and started to finger my tight hole. Eventually, he had me stand up and used his hands on my waist to turn me around. I whispered to him that his cock was too big, but he said, "lets try, I will go slow." It did take quite a while and with a lot more spit he was able to get that thick 9 inch cut cock in my previously tight hole balls deep. He continued to fuck me standing up and then another person came into the restroom. I tried to pull off his cock but he pulled my ass onto his cock and whispered in my ear to be quiet. The guy who entered the restroom went to the urinal. The only noise you could hear in the room was this guy pissing in the urinal. I kept looking back at the black guy behind me with his cock in my ass. He just smiled at me while at the same time pulsed his huge cock. The guy at the urinal eventually finished and left. The black sailor then pushed down on my shoulders so I would be bend over, grabbed my waist and pounded away until he unloading deep in my ass. Luckily, no one else came into the rest room. He got dressed, thanked me and then left. I stood there for a bit naked, kind of in a daze, not believing what had just happened.

Last week I was so damn horny I needed to get off and I wanted to get off sooner than later! Sometimes I get like that when my cock controls my brain. I just can't think of anything else but getting off. I needed to cum so bad. I tried a couple apps. Nada. I tried bbrts and squirt. Nothing. There were a couple guys I chatted with but they were looking for hosts. I was mobile and couldn't host anyway. I decided to head to the ABS and see if I could get any relief. I go in and pay my dollars and get a bunch of tokens. Guys are there but hanging out around the dark corners and walls. A few booths are busy. There are a couple guys chatting. I'm checking out some hot asses and the guys are checking me out too. I'm not sure there is any interest though. I go into a booth with a nice glory hole and drop my pants. I'm playing with my cock and watching some bad porn with condoms and hoping for a mouth or ass to take me over the top and give me relief. No takers. Couple guys look but leave..Damn..don't they know I'm in heat right now and need some? I head to another booth. This one has a large glory hole and I decide that I am going to j/o and if someone wants my load then great, if not at least I'll get some relief. It's like that sometimes..Some days I get my fuck buds hitting me up. Some days I'm hearing from guys on grdr or bbrts or squirt. Other days nothing. I'm concentrating on my cock and how good it feels stroking it to a fuck film when I hear the door to the other booth open up. Someone steps inside and looks down. Ok, I think go ahead and leave I know you're going to... but he doesn't..He puts his mouth against the hole and his tongue slides through..Oh Yes!! I need it so bad. I slide my hard on in the waiting mouth. He starts sucking me harder and harder getting my dick nice and wet. It feels so great. I think to myself "if only he'd turn around and his ass was against the hole I could plunge in!" As if he heard me (I swear I didn't say it out loud did I?!!?) My dick is in the hole and I feel his ass cheeks brushing my cock head..Oh yes please, please you wonderful bottom you!!! I feel him back up on my cock as I shove it forward as much as possible. I'm inside in a flash and don't ever want to cum out. It feels so silky smooth. I think we both moaned in pleasure at the same time. I am going inside and out of his hole just fucking and loving it. My cock is in heaven because it found a new home for the next few minutes..We are working up great friction and my cock is swelling. I shoot a wonderful load deep inside his warm soft hole. I am so happy now..I keep fucking and he makes no attempt to pull away. We keep fucking and now I feel my wet load inside him. He is moaning and groaning on the other side and I just keep fucking. My cock starts to spasm and I shoot another load (not as big) deep inside. I'm shaking from the relief. Slowly my cock gets softer..I become human again..I mumble thanks as I pull up my pants and leave. I clean off my cock in the bathroom and leave with a huge shit eating grin on my face and my cock finally relaxed..at least for awhile till he takes over again. But I do love him..he brings me so much pleasure.

Part 1 Art was a hopeless rock monkey; he loved to hang on craggy granite. Bouldering had long since gone from outdoor workout to an obsessing passion. This muscle-driven sport was ideal for a small guy like Art whose genes created a body more shaped for gymnastics than football or basketball. Best of all this non-competitive rock play fused technical skill with a brutal gravity-defying muscle pump. Geologic formations were Art's favorite gym. Art had long since mapped out and chalk polished his own set of problems at his favorite hang-out, a long rocky uplift called Hoodoo ridge. Hoodoo was a place where Art could spend hours caressing stone, conquering overhangs, laterally swinging and reaching from hold to limitless hold. The vertical ascent wasn't Art's real pursuit. Instead, this rock stud worked a long traverse pushing every muscle of his climber's pumped frame until the very fiber screamed. Art preferred Hoodoo above all the other hang outs for it's near complete privacy. These stones were off trail, hidden among Ponderosa pine well above the more crowded trails of the reservoir below. Art shared the place with a few climbing buddies, but mostly played there alone. On any given sunny afternoon Art could be found bouldering shirtless at Hoodoo in a pair of his favorite worn-out, baggy shorts. He liked the feel of breeze that wafted his exposed ass via a long vertical rip at the seam on the backside. He'd never bothered to stitch it up. The rear exposure not only cooled Art's straining glutes, it was as close to nude climbing as he could get and still protect his precious package from sharp granite or raspy sandstone. There was something to be said for a body sculpted on rock. At a compact 5'7'', Art's lean 140# frame was notable for his baseball round biceps, a tight chest, flexible 6-pak abs, and striated back muscles, every taut fiber a result of hours spent hanging at Hoodoo Ridge. At 28 years, Art enjoyed seeing the ripple of his own sinewy arms and legs as he reached and pulled, satisfied at the little stud frame he'd created. His own private pleasure. It was some shock for the little rock-monkey the day Nate discovered Art's bare ass hugging rock. Nate had just moved to this booming college town from back east on a football scholarship. He was unsure about a new life in a town where black America was seen only on TV, but as an inner-city boy he was hungry to get to know the mountains that loomed above campus. Nate stood out from most of the population on this lily-white university, and that was ok. He was enjoying all the attention. People weren't studying his ebony skin, though. At 6'4", 240 # of football honed mass, Nate was huge. His presence was intimidating to even the most confident. Both women and men stared when Nate the Freight walked by. His college life back east had been filled with football, parties and plenty of sex. Who and what never really mattered that much as long as he got to ram his hard cock somewhere tight and warm. It has probably been this in discriminate choices in sex partners and his unfortunate habit of tearing them a new asshole That had results in him coming back positive in his last health check before changing colleges. It had been 4 weeks since he had pounded someone and he was eager to take it up a notch from his usual hard sex to something really kinky. He wanted a tight neg ass to rip and breed. Part 2: Nate came upon Hoodoo ridge and Art's bare ass after leaving behind a fellow jogging buddy from the team. He and Mike, another linebacker, had headed uphill and off trail to see if they could get a view of the city below from atop the ridge of rocks above. Mike was sucking air and told Nate to go on ahead, he'd be up in a few. Nate enjoyed the presence of his almost equally big white team mate. He thought he might even make a nice breeding buddy, he just wasn't sure if he swung that way. Nate kept climbing breaking into a good heavy sweat as he want and upon reaching the ridge summit heard some heavy breathing coming from the rock. There, hanging like a chimp some 12 feet above the ground, Nate caught sight of one very sexy tan ass, hindquarters of a little white stud. The Philadelphia linebacker had only seen climbing on Mountain Dew commercials up to now and was enthralled by Art's agility as the climber blindly reached for a small crack above his head. Nate was captivated by the fluid movement of this little man as the rock stud pulled his body up a few feet. Now while Nate loved to fuck women or any hole really, he had acquired a taste for little white guys, a habit pursued since high school football. Girls cunts simply couldn't take what he had to offer. Male anal anatomy was another story.And besides even when he ripped a faggot open they ended up wanting more. Overtime, Nate had found he could intimidate, subdue, & seduce most of his teammates and other groupies he'd set his eyes on. For those few who played a little hard to get, Nate had more than once used his imposing size to force himself on, overpower, and impale his prey, conquering their unwilling fear. It was not uncommon after such a forced fuck, that these little men would come asking for more of his big black dick. Such was Nate's power. Seeing this erotic motion on rock, honing in on every muscle tighten on that little guy's back, and smiling at the curve of his finely rounded ass, blood rushed to Nate's head and cock. He knew then if only for this view and the guy fuck in his near future, the move to this town was worth it. Men on rocks! Nate could barely control himself. He wanted to reach up and grab those firm cheeks. He imagined his face buried in that tightly clenched crack, the feel of the velvety warmth of that little stud's love canal as he reamed his 10" black shaft up home. He decided there to make this stranger's tight ass his first breeding conquest. But first things first. Nate moved out of the trees as quiet as a 6'4" man could, and positioned himself underneath the heavily breathing rock stud. The rock monkey climbing above still hadn't noticed the intrusion. "Man, look at that ass. You always climb so exposed?" The boom of Nate's voice pierced the Hoodoo silence. "What the fu..." Art looked down, flinched at the black giant below, lost his hold, and fell off the rock. Nate saw Art slip a second late and while he was able to catch the little stud and break the fall, they both fell back into the embrace of a bush. Nate hadn't meant to scare the little man (well maybe he did) but as a result he found his big hands encircling the rock stud 's pumped upper arms, that exposed tight ass perfectly nestled above his very engorged basket. "Whoa...." Art found himself sitting on the lap of a very large black man. He looked around to see two big eyes penetrating his own. "Jesus, you scared the shit outa me. Where'd you learn to spot, anyway?" Art accused lifting himself off the big black man's lap, unnerved by the outa-the-blue shock of the situation. "As a matter of fact, I do always climb in these shorts. I mean no ones usually around staring up my ass ". added Art. Nate laughed a deep chuckle, licked his lips. "Hey, sorry about spooking you. Never seen a man hanging from the side of a rock." Nate then noticed the rock stud's 7" erect cock sticking like a pole below Art's shorts. "Looks like I got your attention, anyway".

I’ve been called a smart cookie, entrepreneur, successful, and a few choice words along the way to my 45 years of age. I just chalk it up to good genes and some good luck, along with making the most of my opportunities, yes I am extremely bright and did well in school, obtaining a scholarship to a prestigious west coast university, having a good athletic body didn’t hurt either, although many of my high school classmates considered me a nerd or dork, I did fairly well in the personal relationship department. I entered college into my 18th year and studied computer engineering and programing along with my basic curriculum as well as took business classes, I figured if I was to write programs for business, I should know how it worked. While my scholarship paid for my tuition, books, room and board, it didn’t cover my other needs hence I was allowed to have a part time job to supplement my living expenses. I freelance wrote programs for friends and acquaintances, I soon developed a reputation for creating good and useful applications, I was riding on the crest of the technical revolution of the 90’s. I also discovered the bath house a short distance from campus which I began frequenting in my spare time, I was becoming a regular amongst the mixture of the college crowd and the older more established patrons. I was 18 and good looking with an acceptable athletic build, very much what is considered an otter, oh and I had a appetite for sex. After a couple months of attending I noticed a sign looking for workers to work the front desk and do the cleaning of the facilities, I figured that would be a nice way to make an extra buck or two so I applied and was almost immediately hired, my handsome looks and my good attitude got me the job. They started me three afternoons a week cleaning rooms and picking up litter and trash throughput the club. I really didn’t mind doing the cleaning as even then I was a bit kinky and was well on the road to being a cum junkie. It being the earlier 90’s we were forced to be the condom Nazis making sure everything was wrapped up in the public areas, we refilled the condom holders several times a day, and given the number of used ones I was picking up I’m guessing they were being used, although I always snickered a bit when I’d come across a broken one knowing someone most likely took a load. On my days off, mostly weekends I would become a patron and I knew what my preferences were. One evening I had been cruising when a muscle daddy with a good sized cock began hitting on me, I enjoyed the attention especially when he suggested we enter the dark platform area, this was a area of the club which had a raised platform in the center with several cubicles with curtains around the perimeter, the platform had a chain or cable railing around three sides with sturdy post holding it up. Most guys would stand on the platform and allow others standing below to suck them off. This daddy backed me up to the rail as we made out and some twink guy spread my cheeks and dived in eating my hole, pushing his tongue in loosening me up, after about 5 to 10 minutes of this he spun me around and the twink began blowing my 9.5 inch cut cock while he worked his fingers then his wrapped cock into my hole. I was holding onto the railing not sure what was to happen next, I was in no way a virgin but this one of the larger cock I had ever had in my hole. To get more leverage he lifted my left leg to the middle chain, opening up his access to my boycunt, he soon lifter my right leg to the chain as well, I was holding onto the top rail and bounced on his cock, the twink giving up any hope of sucking my load out began jerking my cock instead. I rode the daddy for about 10 minutes and noticed several of the curtains had parted and the occupants were jerking their cocks to the sight of my hole being pounded on the ropes, daddy leaned in and whispered just load enough for everyone watching to hear “oops the condom just broke” I began to bounce harder knowing his raw cock had invaded my bowel “just keep fucking me” I moaned back at him, several of the voyeurs began orgasming realizing I was going to take daddies load. Daddy pushed in harder pushing me up into the rail as his cock began to spasm, my as clenched down as my own orgasm sprayed over my fellow twinks face, he buried my cock in his throat as Daddy made a show of it and spewed the last spurts on my back and ass. The twink came up on the platform and daddy licked the cream from his face and began making out with the boy, before guiding his cock to my hole, giving me my second ride of the night. I knew it was risky to take this boy raw, but I was dammed if I was going to wait for him to suit up. He didn’t last long which was good as shortly after he blasted his load into my hole, an attendant came in to clean the room, I friend of mine but still he was at work and our orders were to keep it safe. I worked the baths for three years while I obtained my undergraduate degree, I was beginning to make a good living freelancing software development and application programs, but was offered a internship at a company that was making inroads in the technology world so I took them up, following my own business plan of making sure my freelance work didn’t impede on what I was developing for the corporation. I was offered a position with the company when my internship was over, pulling in a good salary, complete with bonuses. I continued going to the bath house throughout my obtaining a graduate degree, my friends who worked there knowing my fondness of cum would save up the full condoms and give them to me, a throwback to when I used to work there and collect the used specimens myself. I liked empting them into a jar then using the cream for lube or making cum ice cubes with the mysterious liquid, I was a cum junkie, occasionally inserting the cubes in my rectum then working the defrosting cum into my hole with a dildo. I worked for the corporation for several years until they got greedy and decided they owned everything I developed, claiming intellectual license on my software creations, they sued me for breach of contract for developing software for other individuals, I counter sued and won, I worked for them, they didn’t own me or my intellectual creations. I was beginning to tire of the fast life and corporate stresses anyway. That and shortly after my 19th birthday while I was still at college the health center called me in to let me know I had tested positive for HIV, it really hadn’t come as a shock given how big of a cumdump I had become and how I would get fucked bare behind closed door at the bath house on a regular basis, I never let it slow my sexual desire down I just kept taking and giving loads. I went through the early meds and the later cocktails bringing my viral load down and my t cell count up, in the early 2000’s I moved to the suburbs and began leading what some would describe as a quieter life, then 2 years ago after my settlement with the corporation I found my current home, a quaint estate farm house surrounded on three sides by farmland, several 100 acres that I now own. On the forth side is a quiet development, part of the original acreage of the estate which had been sold off to a developer around 2002. My new neighbor was a single mom with two teenage sons 15 and 16. Cheryl the mom told me the boys were just 11 months apart, as I got settled in and renovated the farmhouse to my liking Cheryl, Tyler and Jackson were of great help. Over the past two years I’ve become good friends with Cheryl, and have become a male role model for Tyler and Jackson her sons, Tyler turned 18 earlier in the middle of the week and Cheryl and Jackson were over at the farmhouse, getting assistance on putting the final touches on his birthday party for tomorrow evening, when Cheryl realize she had forgotten some of her notes. I offered to run over and get them for her, she handed me her keys and I rushed across the backyards and onto her back patio, unlocked the back door letting myself in then hurried up the stairs to her study, passing Tyler’s room as I went, hearing noise coming from the room I peeked in to notice in the dressing mirror the reflection of Tyler, shirtless and his shorts around one ankle, lying on the bed one hand wrapped around his cock the other fingering his hole, his tablet propped up playing what looked and sounded like bareback porn. I passed by quietly and went back down stairs, opened and closed the back door loudly and hurried back into the living room, shuffling Cheryl’s notes on the coffee table as if that was where I found them, Tyler joined me thinking I had just walked in, and not had caught him masturbating upstairs. “Hey Tyler your Mom and Jackson are over my place, putting the finishing touches on your party tomorrow, we just finished dinner but there’s still some left over, come join us” Tyler now dressed in a clean white tee shirt and loose fitting basketball shorts, although it did little to hide his deflating hard on, acted like nothing had been going on, and followed me across the backyards and back to my farmhouse. He greeted his mom and brother and began chowing down on the leftover meatloaf and potatoes, indicating he had just got home and was changing out of his work uniform when he heard me come in to get the notes for his mom. We finished up the preparation and I sent the three back home, knowing I’d be seeing Tyler again soon

I've always thought it would be hot to find a guy that looks like a younger version of me.... and then whore him out while he looks up at me and calls me "dad." Just imagine him in between parked trucks made to do what I tell him to do.... tatted up and bearded.

Hmmm. Finding a hairy cocky redneck 25 yr old to break and modify exactly as I choose. Get him inked the fuck up, pierce his nipples, cock and septum. Never allow him to shave again, and fatten him up til his belly looks 8 months pregnant. Maybe even get his hair lasered off so he's bald like me and could pass for my son. And breed him dirty until he's knocked up and made a submissive whore. I've done pieces of this this with various guys, but never all of it on one guy.

Part 6 　 I awoke sometime later. I am sure a noise had woke me up. I listened and could hear more sounds. I started to get up, when it dawned on me that my new neighbor and owner of the duplex had the noises coming from his place, again. I leaned closer to the wall and could definitely hear the sounds of sex coming through the wall. The unmistakable sound of a cock pounding a hole, with moans of pleasure. There was no talking. Just moans of pleasure and panting and the sounds of a cock pounding the hell out of a hole. I could almost imagine my own cock pounding one of my girls. I noticed I was getting hard as hell listening to it. I soon had to get my cock out and started to jack it in time with the sloppy sounds coming through the wall. I could imagine fucking and wishing I was getting some. It had been way too long now. Then, there started to come sounds of talking, almost yelling. I heard, what had to be the one getting fucked saying, "OMG, give it to me. Pound me harder, faster. Fill me with your cum." The one doing the fucking was then saying, "Oh, yeah, getting so close now. Going to knock you up and give my my babies." That sounded weird to me but whatever. I found myself getting closer to cumming now also. Just as I was about to cum I heard to fucker yell, "Here it comes, take my 10" cock and my hot cum to knock you up forever." There was a loud grunting sound and I heard both of them saying, "I'm cumming hard." As they said that my own cock erupted all over my wall with one of the largest loads I had ever let loose. Then, I heard the one who had to have been the dancer saying, "WOW, I sure tore your ass up good that time. I can see traces of blood and cum running out of you. You will almost definitely be pregnant, now." What?

Part 4 Nate lowered the rock studs hips now, rubbed his hand across the flat little belly beneath him taking up the boy's still warm cum and rubbing it along the shaft of his throbbing dick. The rock baby no longer struggled to get away and Nate found it time to take this little man's ass and exercise his desperate black muscle. His premium was oozing out, the though of breeding his first neg ass was driving him wild but he wanted to confirm it. Nate grabbed Art from behind the knees, pulled hard legs over his shoulders, aimed his cock at the hole. Art had lost it. His legs over the shoulders of this black giant, Art reached around to grab the dick that he knew was coming his way. He grabbed what felt like a warm throbbing pipe, not believing it's size, looked around to see 10" of black cock pushing at the entrance to his asshole. "Relax, little man. You're gonna take this cock whether you want it or not. The more you relax, the less I'll hurt you" Nate pushed. Art tried to relax and felt the black cap opening his hole. "Before I fuck you are you neg?" asked Nate with a sly smile. "Yes, please I don't want to catch anything" replied Art. Knowing he would get the reaction he wanted Nate replied "Too bad, I'm Poz and so will you be soon" Fear crossed Arts face and his ring instantly tightened to ward off the toxic monster. In that instant Nate gave a fast short thrust and felt the ass below open up with a pop as his cock head entered. Art screamed which excited Nate more. Looking down he could see a small amount of blood already appearing, it had done the trick.Nate covered Art's mouth and gave another thrust sinking 3" more in the tight ass below him. "Ahh yea, baby, take my cock. Take it all" Nate thrust again, 2" closer to paradise. Art couldn't imagine the pain. Teeth clenched and tongue thick, Art gripped Nate's bulging arms trying to push the giant off him. He felt like a horse was fucking him. Nate pulled out, grabbed the little stud by the waist, and turned him onto his stomach. He pulled Art's ass up toward, him, aimed and thrust his dick again into the wonderfully tight hole. Art screamed again. Nate looked down and saw he had 5" left to drive home. He pulled Art up to his chest, rested his chin on his captives head, wrapped his arms around arts chest, one hand over Art's mouth. With his dick still halfway up Art's ass, Nate stood up. Art's scream was muffled as he was lifted off the ground with that horse dick up his ass. Up on two feet and arched back, Nate was in heaven, buried deep inside Art, whose legs were kicking in mid air like a little boy. Nate could feel the little man's heart racing which excited him even more. He held Art's waist and started rotating his hips, enjoying the tight canal massaging his dick. Art was groaning to the rythm. After a couple minutes, Nate got a better hold on Art's shoulder's, covered the kid's mouth again, and simultaneously pulled down on the little body as he thrust up slamming the last 5" of his hard black cock up this tight white ass. Art was screaming behind the palm as he felt the monster dick jam further up his ass. He felt like an impaled pig, feet hanging in mid air between Nate's bulging thighs. This is what it's like to get fucked by a man, Art thought. He then felt Nate arch back and let go. Art grabbed onto Nate's thighs to steady himself but realized he was being held up by nothing but this black dick up his ass and his own weight sittting on Nate's crotch. Nate could feel a faint drizzle of wetness dripping off his balls. He knew he'd split the kid good. He first felt the belly below him rumble and then heard Nate's triumphant howl. Art passed out from the pain. Hidden in the bush, Nate hadn't realized that Mike, his fellow linebacker, had been watching the show for some time. Mike, who was shorter than Nate at 6'1" but no less built at 210#, had seen Art climbing before. He'd been impressed by the rock stud too, but was more amazed to see Nate fucking the little guy. This was clearly an uninvited rape and Mike found his own steam rise and 8" dick harden. Fuck if he was going to let his teammate get all the pussy and not shar.Mike walked out of the bushes, hard dick in hand, as Nate was laying a limp Art over a rock to pump the shit out of his little ass. Nate looked up, saw his friend and his hard dick, heading over. Nate smiled and let his tongue fall out in a pant indicating to hisfriend what a good fuck lay below. Mike walked over in front of Art's face and started stroking his dick in front of the little guy who was coming to, and starting to groan again. "He taking any loads? Sharing needles for my roids has left mine a bit dirty" asked Mike. "Fuck yeah, like he has a choice" hollered Nate. When Art came to, he realized he'd been moved and could feel that big black dick slowly pumping in & out of this ass. Nate was groaning, "yea baby, yeah. Take it, take it all. Oh this good. Your mine." When Art opened his eyes he was confused to see a big throbbing white dick in his face, looked up to see a big white guy, about the same size as Nate jacking off right above him. Just then Nate, shoved in hard up his ass causing Art to scream again. Mike grabbed Art's head and shoved his engorged meat in the little man's open mouth to shut him up. It took him several hard thrusts but he got his dick all the way down the guy's throat and started fucking. Art reached out to push off the white guy's thighs but was then lifted off the rock from behind, dicks still embedded at both ends. With Nate holding his waist and Mike holding his head, Art found himself airborne, a double orifice for two fucking animals who were reaming their dicks in and out. "Hey Mike, he's loosing his tightness, hold your cock in and choke him out. His struggling should help" stating an uncaring Nate. Following instructions, Mike continued to face fuck Art, but kept his throat well plugged. Stars started to appear and Art became frantic trying to get air. "Fuck yeah, thats what I'm talking about!" Nate pounded harder his black monster cock covered in the little neg virgins blood Art could feel Nate's balls hitting his ass and sensed the giant dick begin to throb against his shute. Nate started yelling " Oh yeah, ahh god, oh I'm gonna cum, rock baby, I'm gonna fill your man pussy with my poz juice. Ahh, Ahh. Here it comes." Nate bent over and blanketed Art's body with his own, his face eye-level to Mikes big pumping dick. Nate squeezed the little guy's studly body as hard as he could. Art couldn't breathe, just as he started to feel the giant cock explode jizz up his ass in rythmic pumps all the while another dick was pumping his face his world went black. Nate was cumming so hard lost in his orgasm he ignored the unconscious hole he was using. Mike looked down to see Nate's massive back hiding the little stud, hips fucking fast, and muscles in spasm; obviously cumming up that tight ass. Mike new Art was out began to feel his own load rise to head. He shoved his dick down Art's throat as his cock began to pump his load down the captive'sgullet. Mike pulled out as he finished to see Nate lift a conquered Art up and sit back down with his cock still up the rock stud's ass. Nate gave Art a quick slap bringing him around. Art was crying now as Nate stroked his chest, squeezed his arms and gave him a warm embrace. "You know Art, you're mine now. You're all mine." Sitting there on Nate's lap, a semi-hard black cock still up his ass and fully owned for the first time in his life, Art knew that climbing Hoodoo Ridge would never be the same again. Nate had spotted Art's ass, and yes, pushed it to the limit. "Next time we are taking it further" Nate stated in an ominous tone.

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.

PART 9 We left the room. I followed Cy back to the entry counter. I looked at the clock and discovered I had less than half an hour left of my eight hours. I was shocked at how long Cy and I had been fucking. Cy asked the clerk who had been covering for him if there was anything he needed to deal with and was told no. Cy came back to my room with me where we stood inside my room holding each other until he told me to pack my things; I should go home. I knew I would and got dressed. Outside the bath house, we hailed a cab and soon were in my studio apartment. I immediately got the money I was short at the bath house and offered it to Cy. He laughed and told me he had more than been paid back. It took a quick second to realize what he was referring to, and I deeply blushed and laughed. He helped me open my Murphy bed. I closed the blinds and draperies tightly as Cy stripped. I followed suit, and we both climbed in bed where Cy held me tightly and kissed me repeatedly. Then, he rolled me up on all fours, got behind me, and without any lube began to probe my ass with his tumescent uncut cock. “Oh, Cy, we’re going to need some lube,” I said and winced. “Naw. This is part of the treatment, babe. Lube should be created naturally. Besides, there should be at least a little of that last cum load of mine still in you. But, yeah, this time around Jason there will be some pain. Your ass has dried up from the lube I used. I guess you didn’t figure out I used a numbing agent to make things go easy for you the first time. Babe, I promise if it becomes too painful, I will stop. I mean totally stop . . . if you want me to. I mean that,” he cooed at me soothing my nerves. “You mean so much to me, and I feel so close to you. You are very special to me, babe. I have such positive thoughts about you . . . us . . . now.” I heard his words as they fed me a dose of self confidence and pride at having done all that I had done. I felt such a bond with Cy. He made me feel safe and secure. Still, I weighed his words especially the new information regarding a numbing agent. No wonder I had not felt any pain. I had been prepped. Then, I remembered he had spread lube around deep inside me which must have contained the numbing agent. He is so considerate and caring. How had he remained single with him being so hot? I could not believe that I was so lucky. I finally turned my head around to him and conceded, “Okay. You know what you’re doing. I trust you. If I doubt you ever again, tape my mouth closed.” “Babe, you are in the hands of a man who knows exactly what he is doing to you. You can be positive about that; I know I’m positive,” he said. “But, just to keep you in the know, this time will hurt a lot more because I’m not using lube. You have to work with me and trust me that you can work through the pain. And, once it’s over, it’s over. I’ll fuck you good and fill your ass once more with some more of that good protein rich special enhanced gravy of mine. Your ass does love eating my gravy. You love the idea of your ass eating my gravy, don’t you, babe?” “You bet I do. I’m positive I want you to fuck me and flood me with your special enhanced protein gravy. I feel like I belong to you now,” I confessed. “Oh, babe, just for that, I’ll give you a little starter lick so you’ll have at least a little spit to ease me inside you,” Cy admitted. He crept backwards and lowered his face to my ass and began eating my hole driving me wild as he wetted the area. He soon returned behind me and began to push inward. My world became surreal once more. The pressure mounted as did the pain level, then, Cy’s titan hooded joystick popped through my sphincter. I did cry out rising upright pushing my back against his chest. Cy wrapped his arms around me holding me tight as I clamped my mouth together whining and screaming in my throat. He held me tight to keep me impaled as I struggled. Time passed and the pain eased to nothing; I resumed my 4-stance. I commanded my brain to obey and ignore the pain that was coming and my ass to open up and let Cy inside. Much as he had done the first time, Cy jerked himself an inch or two at a time creating another wave of pain which I fought off until at last once more I was filled with the heavenly full feeling of Cy’s majestic 10 ½ inch cock inserted in my ass. This time though he did not wait for me to accommodate him but went right to full length body-jarring piston strokes in and out scraping my insides raw as he re-opened some of his cuts and abrasions which coated his turgid one-eyed trouser snake. He rammed inward harder it seemed to me than he had before, but I didn’t care. This was Cy; I accepted his fucking no matter how I felt. I belonged to him, and my ass did, too. Cy fucked me a long time. I know it was a long time because I knew what time it was when we got to my place. It was now almost an hour and a half after that. He had been fucking me for over forty-five minutes now, and I was in synch with him as I counter fucked down his shaft as he thrust forward. I matched his violent forward thrust into my ass with an equal violent backward thrust onto his cock. I needed his cum load in me where it belonged. He wanted his cum in me as well. We worked to reach that end. “MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM,” Cy screamed in his throat as he again flooded my ass with his globs of ball nectar. I felt each salvo again as it flew through his cock slathering every part of my gut. He pumped and pumped and pumped it felt like gallons into me until at last the pumping ebbed to a dribble. He eased us down onto the mattress where he rested a long time before slowly pulling himself out of my ass. I felt so alone and empty. PART 10 “You stay there; don’t move,” I heard him command. He slipped off the bed and went over to his clothes retrieving something from a bag. I watched carefully as he rubbed something on the item. He returned to the bed and held out to me what looked like a big wedge of something. “This is a butt plug for you. I can’t keep using my cock as one, and you know how I feel about your losing my cum. Pull your ass cheeks open,” he said. Without hesitating, I complied. I felt the tip touch my hole. I could tell there was lube on the butt plug as I felt Cy smearing it around the area. I dismissed as irrelevant the fact that he had lube but didn’t use it with me. Cy had already explained why. I would not question him. He knew what was best for me. Still . . . “Take a deep breath; let it out; another in; out; in; out; in; let about half out and hold it,” Cy said flatly. I obeyed. He shoved inward and twisted the butt plug until the entire mass was seated. I jerked violently but held my cheeks open and choked off all sounds. “There. Now, we have you all set for that latest load to stay in you. You do want to keep my loads, don’t you, babe? It means so much to me,” Cy almost whimpered. “Cy, I’ll take all the cum loads you give me and will never get rid of them if that is what you want,” I said sincerely as I turned around now to look at him. Even though I had tried to make the room as dark as I could there still was light coming in allowing me to see this wonderful kind man. My eyes dropped once more to his cock which now was covered in even more blood. My eyes quickly snapped upward questioningly to him. “Babe, I want to fill that beautiful wonderful ass of yours all the time . . . and will every chance I get. Don’t worry about the blood. You’re okay. You know you can trust me. I’d tell you if anything was wrong wouldn’t I?” Cy asked in such a sincere and soothing voice touching me gently as he spoke. We looked at each other, and then he leaned in and kissed me deeply. We pulled apart, and Cy lay down on his back. “Since it bothers you so much, babe, why not do something about it? Why don’t you go down and clean off my cock?” I looked at Cy then his bloody cock and back to Cy. My mind was blank. Was he serious? I hesitated only for the briefest of time before moving between his legs and devouring as much of his cock as I could. My tongue and mouth laboured on cleaning the dry and drying blood off his cock. My Cy was going to be clean again soon; I would see to that; it was my job. Soon, no trace was left of any blood. He smiled at me and motioned me to join him which I did. We got beneath a cover, and I snuggled into him as he wrapped his protective left arm around me. We slept for hours. I felt a movement and opened my eyes finding Cy slipping his arm out from beneath me. He got out of bed and strode to the bathroom where I could hear a strong stream of piss landing in the toilet. I got out of bed and followed him standing near him until he finished. He turned to leave, but I blocked his way by kneeling in front of him. I looked up, picked up his lazing colossus, and stuffed it in my mouth tonguing it and especially the piss slit. I made sure there was no remnant of any piss. I released his tube steak and stood. He kissed me and went back to bed. I urinated, flushed, and returned to bed also. It was 2:14. Cy told me he needed to get something to eat. We got dressed and went out to a place he knew that wasn’t too far. We got back about 4:00. Cy had me to go with the butt plug still in my ass—just to be sure I didn’t leak. When we got back we climbed on the bed and began making out with great long deep kisses. Soon, Cy had me in my 4-stance and slowly pulled out the plug tossing it on the foot of the bed. He pushed his limp cock in my ass inching it inward slowly. The more he got in me the harder he got until once more he was at full attention. Cy rode my ass harder than ever. I revelled in the feeling of his giant phallus taking command of my ass. We continued fucking at what had become a standard almost violent scene to which I gave full consent. He fucked me for over a half an hour before he cried out and filled me with another of his wonderful cum loads which seemed to go on forever. We eased down onto the mattress as usual with him remaining inside me. We lay there recuperating when in the midst of our rest time a warm feeling spread throughout going deeper and deeper in me. I lay there and said nothing until it dawned on me that Cy was using me as a urinal. Now, I loved his piss, too.

I actually was. my old man was involved with NAMBLA and I was daddy's cumdump for years along with a couple uncles and my God father- and some other neighborhood dudes. mostly Marine buddies my dad drank with. When He died, My mom sent me to a boarding schools which was 90/10 boys. being on the small side I was the cumdump for the older Boys and a few staff members got my first taste of Pain Piss and farm sex there too. And.. i was and alter boy so I was taking Raw catholic priest cock till i hit puberty. -early. - then it was my turn to fuck. here it is 30 -odd year later, i'm not even 40 and i'm a fucking pig. and i'm hard thinking about it. I was scared and really fucked up back then but OINK.. I sure do miss the old days. -especially when I was a teenager and could just grab an man's crotch and get him to feed me.

He looked me up and down, and licked his lips. "So, you still looking for some cock, bud?" He dropped himself into the reclining chair in my living room and grinned at me. I was a little shocked. I'd never been faced with a guy bigger than me, never realized that with this one I wasn't going to choose to have what he gave, but that he could take it whether I liked it or not. I nodded, and stammered a bit as I said "Yeah, I dropped a little molly and now 'm feeling like some fun." I laughed a little self consciously, "what can I say, molly makes me slutty". He looked at me silently for a few seconds, and then said, abruptly, "C,mere then, slutty, and show me why I should stick around...", He leaned back in the recliner, reached down and undid his belt, opened his fly, and slipped his jeans down. I gasped as his cock sprang out. It was bigger than it looked in the pics. Thicker too, an upward curving, thick prow of a thing, it was as big as long as my wife's forearm, and thicker than her wrist. It bobbed a bit as he pushed his pants down a little further. I took a step towards him, and dropped to my knees. Leaning forward, I felt his hands on the back of my head as I opened my mouth. He pulled me in as I opened wide, and the head slipped between my lips as he twisted his hands to angle my throat. Expertly rolling his hips, he was at my tonsils before I could blink. I would have gasped, but there was no way air was getting in or out of my lungs until he let go. I blinked, he pushed again. I gagged, he pushed harder, and suddenly he was past and his flat belly was against my nose. Ten inches of cock was literally filling my throat, his hands holding me in position, and I heard him groan distantly as he pulsed. Suddenly I realized what was happening. He had taken my throat in the first ten seconds, and now that pulsing was a load. He was cumming already, straight into my belly. Fuck. So much for my plans. Bitterly I began to pull back from his cock, when his hands clenched and he pulled me back down. His fingers dug into my jaw as I began to struggle, starting to feel the need to breathe. I pulled back harder, to no avail. I grunted, unable to complain, and tried to pull away. My heart was pounding, my lungs aching, I needed air! I began to struggle, to thrash around, but he had me securely. His fingers locked in my jaw, I couldn't even bite down, and as blackness began to close in from the edges my vision I realized two things. First, that I was about to black out, choked out by cock. Secondly, that I was myself as hard as rock...

Anyone for pride in GC This year... Taking a sun who I want to be left flooded with spunk inside him... Also.plays well with others.

Time to go take some loads, then!

Difficult to answer. In my daily life I'm not submissive at all. I too much like to be in control of everything. In the bedroom I (usually) consider myself an equal partner of the top. It takes two to tango and I make sure I get as much fun (being the bottom) as the top is having. BUT, I kinda like it when the top takes control and tells me what to do or makes me do things (within my limits) and he gets verbal. That doesn't mean he needs to get all dominant and "degrade" me. I don't think I'm a very submissive bottom as many here state they are. I never let a top do things to me that I absolutely do not want in the heat of the moment. I like fucks (like you describe) where there is no dominance and we both enjoy what we're doing. Those usually are the best fucks. But I don't mind being pushed around a little and told by the top what to do, understanding that this part of the "play", and it turns him on without it becoming a dominant top "using" a bottom only for his own pleasure. I have one fuckbuddy who just wants to get off and uses my hole for that but he is never dominant or degrading. I let him because he's an excellent top and makes sure I get at least one load every week ;-) My other FB is my "equal" and he gets off seeing how what he does with his dick turns me into a total fuck slut. He loves seeing me squirm and begging. He's the one I always look forward to having around. With random guys you sometimes don't know how it will go. Some are lame tops, some turn out out to be very abusive. The latter ones won't get a second chance. Some tops fuck for hours and some dump a load in two minutes. Best is somewhere in between. Guess the same goes for tops. You don't know if the bottom turns out to be a very active one or just lays there like a sack of patatoes. Everyone has a preference. Mine is an equal partner and if he gets a little verbal and pushes me around a bit and tells me what to do without becoming overly dominant I'm a happy bottom!

Talk about your full service!

PART 1 My parents just left me—their little Jason—in my fully furnished studio apartment. I was now positively on my own. They drove me up to Chicago to attend university—class of 1990. I have three weeks before classes start, and I’m going to explore the city. I already know where I’m going tonight. It’s been on my mind for months ever since I heard about the place. But, now, I have some shopping to do to get ready. A whirlwind shopping spree found me back at my place by 5:00 and my modifications finished by 5:30. (I had to get used to a new time zone.) I looked at my new shower addition and couldn’t wait to try it since I had never used one before. I got the hang of it quick enough. I took my time so that I could be sure that I would be absolutely thoroughly cleaned out in anticipation of tonight’s fun or what I hoped would be fun. I had already decided I was a good prospect to find another guy tonight to have sex with, and I didn’t want anything to go wrong. Eight o’clock found me champing at the bit. I was running crystal clear water out of my ass. I took a quick shower making sure not to put on any deodorant. I looked at myself in the full length mirror on my bathroom door and liked what I saw. I was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs all going at full speed. I almost decided not to go but chastised myself for being a chicken. This is what I had dreamed about for so long. I looked once more at myself and took inventory: 19 years old; manly baritone voice; 6 feet tall; naturally tan body; 175 pounds of running and swimming muscles; brown eyes; brown hair covering my arms, legs, head, and crotch triangle; size 11 ½ feet; long slender fingers attached to big hands; and cut thick 8 inch cock hanging in front of naturally hairless sac containing 2 large hen egg-sized balls. I was nervous that I might be not up to par for the men where I was going. But, then, if I didn’t go, I wouldn’t know if I were or were not. I hurried from the bathroom, slipped on an old Bike white jockstrap, a pair of shorts, t-shirt, and sandals. I stuffed my money, ID, and CTA pass in my front pocket, picked up my gym bag with the lock and goods, and grabbing my keys went out the door. The clerk at the counter smiled a lot; his name was Cy he told me. I told him I was Jason. He gave me a wink and told me to come to him if I needed anything at all because he would be there all night. He was hot. He talked me into getting a room, actually what he called a double, telling me it was his treat since I had not brought enough money. I found my room after making a quick stop at a commode, stripped putting all my clothes and sandals in my gym bag locking it, made sure my lube was on the bed after applying some to my ass, tossed my towel over my shoulder, strapped on my door key, and left my room wearing only my trusty white Bike jockstrap and a smile. I wandered around the huge bath house going upstairs and in the basement. I went in the steam room finding several men engaged in sucking. I watched for a long time. My mind was racing at what I saw as an almost open invitation to having sex in public areas . . . and no one cared. This is what I had heard about the place and what had kept me in a subdued yet excited state for the last several months. I knew once I had decided where I was going to university I would have to visit this place. I had at last arrived. When I left the steam room, I again wandered over the three levels noting what must be protocol. I stood back and watched other men who also were wandering the narrow halls. What I suspected was true or at least I hoped so. I put my theory to the test returning to a room on the second floor where a hot looking man had been. He was still in his room with the door opened wide. I stood across the hall from his door and watched the man as he slowly rubbed his towel-covered cock. After a couple of minutes, he lifted the towel up allowing his cock freedom to rise upwards. I looked to my left and right and entered his room shutting the door behind me. He stood up as I crossed the room to him. I knelt quickly on the floor using my towel for comfort. I was breathing heavily and my hands shook. My mouth was dry but I opened it. I took his cock in my hand guiding it into my mouth where I tasted my very first cock. I began slowly moving up and down on the shaft as my mouth awakened providing saliva to make the move easier. I carefully began sucking my first cock. There would be many more I hoped. This stranger put his hands on either side of my head and held me still as he began to piston in and out of my mouth. I began quietly to moan at his taste as my head began to swim in blissfulness. My eyes fluttered briefly until I recomposed myself. He fucked my mouth easily for many minutes as I drooled in anticipation. I heard him begin to moan and looked up at him seeing his head tilted backward. His hands tightened on my head; I braced myself for what I knew was going to happen. Several more minutes passed as he continued to moan and increase the tempo of his fucking my mouth. Then, with a growl, I felt his cock fill and hit the back of my mouth. Seconds passed; I felt a flexing of his cock as the first load of his cum shot into my mouth. I gagged like the beginner I was but kept my mouth closed mostly learning to swallow each salvo of his nectar. Rank amateur and I’m sure he knew it, but he said nothing. My cock was straining in my jock. PART 2 I was ecstatic when I left his room and felt as if I were flying! My heart was racing at what I had done. I was giddy but tried to contain my wild enthusiasm as I began walking back to my room. I decided to hit up the basement before the first floor where my room was. My pace was unhurried and garnered several long looks and smiles, a couple of pats on my bare ass, and one distinctive grope of my bulging jock. As I rounded the last corner in the basement, I noticed a door open that I thought had been previously closed. Inside was a young guy who couldn’t have been much older than me. He was naked standing by his bed and stroking a cock that looked to be very similar to the one I had just sucked. I stopped directly in front of his door. Without hesitating, he beckoned me in; I went closing the door. I went to the floor and began working on his cock which was indeed very similar to the first one I had just sucked. The difference was this young guy was a lot more hurried and soon I could tell he was looking for a fast cum shot. Well less than 5 minutes, I heard him groaning as he pummelled my mouth blasting out his load which I swallowed. He hurried me out of his room. Oh. My feet took me up the stairs where I wandered the round-about hall on the first floor. The room next to mine had an older man—read probably in his fifties—in it. He had grey hair, very thin but with muscles, no body hair to speak of, and was propped up against the wall as his uncut cock lay across his thigh. I unlocked my door and stepped over to look at him once more. He motioned me to come into his room. I closed my door and joined him. As I stepped away from his door, I began to kneel once more, but he pulled me back up on my feet. We stood looking eye to eye. He put his arms around my waist, and I put mine around his shoulders. He leaned in and kissed me which took me off guard. I backed my head away for a brief moment and then relented. We kissed several minutes before separating. I knelt down taking his uncut cock into my mouth. He had a very different taste and texture than my first two cocks I had sucked. I soon found that I could slip my tongue beneath his foreskin and had a lot of fun swirling my tongue first one way and then the other. My host sighed quietly and emitted gentle moans. I looked up and saw his face with his eyes closed swaying as if there were a gentle breeze. I sucked on the entire shaft learning my trade and trying different tricks to taste more of this new cock and to be sure that the man to whom it was attached was enjoying himself. We continued for some time. My knees began to hurt, my legs began to cramp, and my mouth began to ache. Somehow, I persevered until without warning a guttural moan crept out of his closed mouth just as a huge glob of cum hit the back of my throat. I was startled and choked at the same time. His cum landed in my mouth as if it were a military barrage. Each salvo landed in a different spot. I felt a backlog of the sticky fluid building in my mouth until I thought it would burst out and spew everywhere. Fortunately, just as I was running out of room the bombardment began to abate; I began swallowing faster. I felt his body shiver and let his spent cock slowly slip from my mouth. My host helped me to my feet and once more hugged me. We kissed some more. He told me I tasted good. I had a momentary dull brain before I realized about what he was talking. I laughed and told him he was the one that tasted good. He had a very pleasant smile. I had an epiphany as I stood there with him. I realized that I had now sucked three men and swallowed their cum loads. I was not nervous or anxious any more about my being accepted. I knew I was attractive enough and had what it would take to find plenty of men at this bath house to sate my repressed sexual appetite. My mind began to race as I thought about starting a journal and keeping track of my sexual trysts. Abruptly, I returned to my reality of being held by this nice older man. Indeed, all three of my conquests were superb in their own right. Any hint of ageism fell away. I resolved that it was about sex and me getting a lot of it to make up for “lost” time. I had no time for age numbers.

Love cheating, and the more you do the easier and more necessary it is to go further!

Art followed Nate's gaze down to his own shorts, noticed his woody, turned red. "Hey, really, I'm sorry I shocked you out of your climb. Just never seen a near naked guy on the face of a cliff." Standing up, Nate towered over Art, his broad shoulders casting a shadow over the little rock stud. Art was dwarfed and for the first time in his life felt vulnerable. His nipples stood erect as the black giant blocked the sun's warmth. "Uhhh... don't worry about it" Art countered. He'd never been so physically close, let alone exposed, to an african american. Art couldn't move. He found himself staring eye level into a sweaty t-shrit hugging huge square pecs. Art gulped searching for words. "Hey lemme introduce myself, I'm Nate" offering a big hand. "My name's Art" Art returned the courtesy, held out his own smaller, chalk covered paw which was enveloped and purposefully crushed affirming just who was dominant in this little exchange. Art squeezed back as strong as he could to show he's no wimp and was roughly pulled in closer to the giant. "Now that's a grip" admired Nate. "You know, the climbing....develops the hand's tarsels" Art explained, still overwhelmed. "Don't let me stop your climbing, little guy. You mind if I stuck around and watch?" Nate released the captive hand. "Uhhh..sure, no problem" Art eyed the black man suspiciously. "But let me give you a few pointers on spotting if your gonna hang out below me" "What'dya mean spotting?" Nate asked innocently. "Well, in bouldering, the guy below spots. That is, it's his job to cushion the fall of the guy on rock, give encouragement, and yeah push him to go harder, to the limit" Art turned around and walked back over to the rock.. "Let me show you. Get on the rock". Art motioned Nate to follow and pull his big body onto the face of the rock. "What the hey..." Nate obeyed, walked over, and pointedly brushed his bigger body up behind Art as he reached up to grab a hold, searched for a foot perch, and mimicked to his best ability, a climbers position. "That's it" approved Art, marveling at the size of this guy's arms. "Now the spotter stands behind & below his rock buddy, arms up & ready to catch or push, should his partner fall" Art explained, reaching up, palms forward and pushed on the massive black back in front of him, to show him he was there. "Now reach for a new hold above" Art pointed. Nate reached for a hold 2 feet up, followed with his left foot, held himself, then felt the knob he was holding onto loosen from his full weight and break off. Nate found himself falling onto the rock stud below who, not only cushioned the impact, but also held his own against a body that outweighed him by at least 100 pounds. Art nearly flipped backward spotting Nate's fall. He had some softball size biceps in his grip, a satisfying reversal of the situation only ten minutes before. Art was pretty impressed by this bench press grown mass but knew that men of muscle like Nate always had a hard time on a vertical face. The bulk prevented rock intimacy. Big guys just weren't flexible like the little wiry guys. "Wanna have another go?" Art challenged Nate, letting go of the big guy's arms. "Not yet" Nate felt outgunned on rock. Besides he'd rather be behind that little body. He put an arm over Art's shoulders and angled him toward the place where he'd just fell. "Let's see how I spot now, instead. Why don't you get that little butt back on the wall, and see how I do". "No problem". Art decided to take advantage of the big guy's spot, get a good workout in, and not worry about some risky moves given the guy below could no doubt catch a fall now. Art moved into a problem that he knew would impress Nate. Might as well show off his skills as well as his ass. Nate positioned himself behind and below Art, big arms up, palm on Art's lower back, showing the little guy he was prepared. Nate watched as the rock monkey moved effortlessly across the face of the ridge, clinging to holds the big guy could barelysee. Nate noted the way Art's back muscles and those on tense forearms looked like knotted rope. He got closer. Art could feel Nate's breath on his back, definitely the closest spot he'd ever received. He didn't mind when he felt big palms giving support and a light push during a long reach. Art pulled himself up above an overhang and looked down at Nate who was now taking off his shirt. "Jesus, Nate, your huge. You a bodybuilder?" Nate flexed his sweating pecs for Art. "You like that, huh, little guy?" "Pretty impressive, that's all" Art laughed and went back to the problem. As he climbed around he felt Nate's eyes on him; felt himself get hot and start up a good sweat. Art had a few boyfriends in the past but they were more his size. His last boyfriend was a smaller asian the year above him in college. The guy had tried to take his cherry once but the condom was too big for his small cock and Art wouldn't let him fuck him raw. Trying to show off He moved through a series of moves that stretched, pulled, and bunched his arms and legs to the point, that all his muscles were screaming. Art was getting a great workout, knew that he'd be too weak to move after he'd finished giving Nate a good show of his own fine physique. He pushed himself hard in competitive exhibition. As Art moved lower, Nate moved closer, right behind Art's ass, which was now at about level with the big guy's face. Nate couldn't help but lean in for a smell of his clean sweaty tight ass. Nate was well beyond arousal by this point, watching the little stud move across the rock. Here in front of his own nose, as seen through the rip in the backside, Art's butt muscles rippled. Nate brought his left hand up to Art's sweaty back, savoring the feel, and couldn't resist a squeeze of that fine bubble butt with his right. He had to breed this boy. Art laughed "Hey, watch it it. That's no spot. I'd call that a definite feel." He kept on climbing amused by the aggressiveness of this giant. "Mmmm" Nate groaned and started giving Art some sneaky pokes, and running fingers on known ticklish areas. It had been a good thirty minutes of bicep crunching, by the time Nate started copping feels, and Art's arms were screaming. When he felt big fingers stream across his lower abs, he couldn't help laughing. Unintentionally, he let go and fell into Nate's waiting embrace. Nate pulled a laughing Art against his chest and held the little rock stud suspended as he sniffed his captive's neck. He felt Art freeze and could sense the guy was intimidated by his loss of control and the enormous size differential; exactly Nate's intent. He lowered Art slowly ensuring that the little guy's exposed crack slid down along Nate's stiff shaft. Art felt Nate's huge and very hard dick slide up his butt as Nate too slowly lowered him to the ground. Now Art was scared. He squirmed free from the giant's hands, turned around and looked up at Nate to see some hungry eyes looking down into his own. Art had never experienced (or at least recognized) a stare directed for his pleasure like this before. He felt an odd rush ot his loins, and couldn't hold the gaze. He lowered his eyes down Nates own ripped abs and followed a line of kinky black hairs that tapered downward into very stretched blue running shorts. Art had never seen a cock so big, outlined so clearly in cotton. That cock pointed straight his way. "Uhh..well I think I'll call it a workout. Sure appreciate the spot" Art stammered as he turned to go get his gear and get the fuck outa dodge. Nate knew if he didn't move fast, the moment would be lost. The little man looked quick and Nate didn't know if he could keep up with a scared rabbit in this terrain. He grabbed Art's upper arm and pulled the little man closer. "Lemme brush you off". Nate began rubbing dirt from the rock stud's backside. "This rock climbing is a muscle-driven sport. Jesus, what an ass". "Uhh huh"...Art gulped as the giant squeezed his tight round cheeks, terrified as he was lifted slightly off his feet. His mind said run but he couldn't move. This guy was huge. The black man moved his sweaty hands up, enclosed his thick fingers around Art's pumped biceps, squeezed. Male scent filled Art's senses. He looked up again into the hungriest of eyes. Never had he been so confused, so aroused. "You know, I really think I better be going". Art pulled out of Nate's grip and turned around. "I don't think so." Before Art was two feet away, Nate reached from behind and grabbed the little man's face, pulling him back against his body, his other arm reaching around the rock stud's arms and chest. Art could only grab the giant's forearm that encircled him as he was lifted off his feet. A sweaty palm the size of Art's face covered his mouth, preventing him from yelling. Art could feel the giant's heartbeat as his back gripped Nates chest. Art arched and squirmed but was plainly overpowered. Nate loved the feel of the wiggling little hard body he now controlled. He felt his dick grow and lifted the guy's exposed ass up higher till his erection stood up between his new rock toy's thighs, licking the kids neck, digging his nose into an ear orifice. "Ahhhhhh....you get used to the feel of my big black dick, rock baby, get the feel of it good. I'm gonna stick my shaft so far up your fine ass, you'll feel it in the back of your throat". Art felt a panic as someone else's huge fucking erection came up between his legs. He couldn't comprehend a cock this size entering his asshole and struggled harder. The Black giant carried him over to the base of Hoodoo Ridge where an overhang formed a semi cave. He lowered Art and forced him down on his stomach. Art could barely breath as 240 pounds of black muscle straddled his back. Art could feel Nate taking off those too-tight shorts of his with one hand as the other pushed him deep in the leaf litter below. Art flinched when a big black mushroom cock head slapped his face. His big meat exposed to the swaety air, Nate then grabbed the little mans hair pulling the head back as he rubbed those tight round buns with his other hand. He pushed his throbbing shaft up between the little man's hard legs again, smearing his toxic pre-cum along the way. He bent around planted his mouth over the little one below and forced his tongue in quivering lips. Art couldn't breathe as this boa tongue filled his mouth, moved down his throat. The giant was breathing in, sucking every last molecule of oxygen from his lungs. Art was mortified to feel his own dick grow to full attention. This was rape. How could he be full on excited? "You want my big black dick up your ass, don't you rock baby. You want to feel me impregnate you with my shaft. You ain't never gonna walk or climb the same after I finish fucking your ass, white boy. You are mine. And I'm gonna take you as my bitch now, make your man ass, my own private pussy" "Please I haven't done that before", gasped Art. While he'd had boyfriends they'd only ever made out. One of them had rimmed him and the only guy to try was the asian whose cock was too small to use a condom so Art had refused. Ignoring Art's pleaseNate spit on his hand, found Art's puckered asshole, rubbed gooey juice toloosen it up, jammed a thick finger up the little man's tight hole. Art yelled in pain. Nate didn't stop and started to aggressively finger fuck this tight ass moving his thick finger further up that tight warm love tube aiming to scrape and abrade the tight tender tissue. He aimed a second finger, squeezed it in, jammed it up, and continued the digit probe. "It's been a while since i took a cherry, and I'm going to love planting my DNA deep inside your busted hole". Art had never felt fingers up his ass. The pain, the nasty pleasure, the prostate rubbing was too much. He felt his balls throb and cummed involuntarily into forest duff beneath him. Nate felt the little man arch back and knew he'd made him spurt jizz. He rolled the little man over, grabbed those slim hips and lifted the little guy's slight bleeding ass up to his face. Art was still jerking from his cum and felt helpless as he was held up by big hands, his butt in a strange man's face. Nate licked around Art's puckered rose, blew warm breath on his new pussy, and watched it quiver in anticipation. Nate loved to look at the entrance of his dick's target. He reamed his long tongue into the hole and felt hands reach up around his 19" guns. Art, upside down, his head resting against black thighs,an engorged cock poking his shoulder blades, felt the tongue enter his ass. It felt like a snake and he reached up to grab the black man's arms. If his own biceps were baseballs, the ones holding him airborne were softballs. No, soccer balls. Art felt like he was gonna cum again and did, shooting back over his head onto Nate's thigh's and the ground below. "Please stop i don't want to be fucked" Pleaded a winded Art, struggling to breath in his bent double position. "You've already got off on my fingers now its my turn"

This week I mist cum union night at G I Joe Montréal. So I went last night. Friday night is a good night. I love to get a shower and stay in the sauna in the hot steam for a moment and then go explore the place. On the second floor I met a friend who just love to suck. On his was naked and on the floor waiting to dry some balls. I gave him my dick and suck like a real pig, the door open for others to look. It was good but I was looking for a nice dick up my butt. I leaved him to others and walk around. On the third floor. I suck some nice dick and got a guy to fuck me but he was more a bottom so... I fuck him. I love to fuck in the open space. Next to the sling and the bench, on the floor. He blew his load and I swallow some, the rest on my face… Hummm After a quick shower I went to the basement. That’s the place I like the most. Around the glory hole section, a few guys were kissing and sucking. I watch and masturbate in the corner just playing with myself. Then a small guy, dark skin, came next to me. Looking Indien, I love the contrast of my skin against colored skin. He was kinda hard so I got on my knee and help him… In just second he was hard like a rock so I stand and bend over. He spit for lub and got in slowly. I spread my legs and he got in, all in… And the way was long, a good 9 inches… so good. Then he star to pound quick and slow and hard and non-stop. Others were watching and jerking. He got my ass reel good. He stop and got out, we went on the bench in the video section and he fuck me again, for the longest time, in the light, with others watching. I was screaming extasy… He stop again and took his breath. I saw my sucking friend. He like to get fuck too. He smile at me and ask if there is any good top around. My Indien friend was hard and looking at my sucking friend. I said ‘’ yes you should try this guy, he’s real good.’’ So my sucking friend smile and my Indien friend took him by the shoulder, turn him around, spit for lub and fuck him. At that time the room became a fucking slut barn. Two guys were fucking in the sling others were sucking several guys… I blew my load in my sucking friend and I saw my Indien friend loading and screaming. My sucking friend was moaning enjoyment… The room was warm and it smell Men fuck. Men fucking good. I went to the shower and my Indien friend came along so we kiss and play a bit with our limb dick. Love limb cum dick. To the last drop. I mist cum union, but the other night was really good to. Love G I Joe bath house.

yeah i totally get that, and when i used public restrooms it was right to a stall, in & out because my dick's too shy to piss at a urinal lol

WOOF.

AMATEUR BAREBACK PORN to me is the best! Especially when guys are bold-faced and well-conditioned to bareback action; smirking mischievously while taking RAW cock. Jaded urban type-guys who look comfortable with the recreational bb-scene, rutting and rooting like champs without idiotic dialog and cliche lines. Spare me with the "oh you like that big diick!' and all that fake-virgin grimacing and Armond Rizzo's nelly-whimpering. Makes my attention and boner fade. For all I care, I prefer some edgy club music or techno in the background while an amateur camera-guy pans the spontaneous promiscuous sex-party action... and jizz goes in the hole and only dribbles out as the next dude steps up to use it for lube...

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.

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. ***

I only fuck faggots, not interested in gay men. A faggots place is to take cock and his reward is my load. How i deliver it or what he needs to do (or endure, like getting throatfucked) to get me off does not matter. Only my pleasure and satisfaction does. I am not a politically correct Master. Never was, never cared for any of stuff. My sub is there to be used rough. Period. I will do just that. If he doesnt like it, he can go on to the next cock.

This raises another good point - the size-fixated nature of cock consciousness in the gay community might have an effect on who's willing to come forward and Top, at least in group or public venues like bathhouses, where there are comparisons to be made. If a guy is on the fence about whether or not to top, and the guy next to him is Topping with a huge piece of equipment, the first guy may, regrettably and very unnecessarily, feel as though he can't "compete". Let me be the first to say, loudly, that that is ridiculous. My ass is tighter than any cock is big around, and my ass muscles love nothing better than squeezing down, so every cock fills me up. Some stretch me more, but every one of them fulfills me, no matter the size. Plus, my prostate is only so far in, and even if the cock is too short to reach the prostate, some of you cruel bastards know exactly what you're doing and can bring me to orgasm just teasing my anus with your cockhead (you know who you are, you motherfuckers... don't ever stop). I've had two or three really breathtaking examples of BBC lately (thank you very much, gentlemen) but my lifetime Best Fucks have been from quite average cocks used by master cocksmen, one just three weeks ago. He, by the way, identified himself to me as a Total Top - "I only Top," he said. "I just love to fuck." Would you complain equally that he doesn't offer up his ass as you would about a bottom who chooses not to Top? If so, you would be a fool; he is a genius at what he does, and should be encouraged to keep doing it exclusively. I realize this next point may get some pushback; please understand that I don't assume that this is true of the OP, but just a general observation. I sometimes wonder if the plaint that there are never enough Tops is a kind of sideways grumble from bottoms who felt that they did not get their fair share of cock at some event, or have been disproportionately overlooked or passed over online: Akin to the "I wish that was me" post often seen. Let's take this weekend's CumUnion in Indianapolis. Whether is was successful or not will depend on who you ask. If you ask me, fuck yes. As I mentioned above, I was fucked 24 times. I know I was not the only bottom there; there were at least three other BB bottoms there advertising their presence on BBRTS via QuickConnect ads and via the blackboard onsite... and by being open doors and asses up. (Good work, men.) I have no idea how well hey fared. You'll have to ask them. I do know that one other bottom had some luck, because the man who decided to pimp me out also lined up Tops for him, and let them use him in my room next to me tandem a couple of times. Now, if others did not get as much action as me (and there was plenty of fucking that did not involve me) I can imagine someone might grumble that it was unfair that a bottom was allowing a Top to push other Top traffic in his direction versus other bottoms; that is, the principle of unfair competition in a limited market. This misses a point. The Top wanted to whore me out. That was his groove. That was what got his mojo on. By making my hole available to him, I provided him a service, which also, incidentally, allowed me to provide service to any other Top who took advantage of it, thus fulfilling my purpose as I understand it. So, if this seems unfair to you, next time, find yourself a Top who wants to whore out your ass, bring him along, and let the Tops compete to see whose bottom can take the most cock. Better yet, have them put us in the same room and make a competition out of it. I guarantee that'll get the cocks pumping. But the thing I'm driving at is that success is the result of an active, not passive, approach. I have written about this before on other forums, but I'll summarize here; I didn't start any of this until ai was 37, and God knows I'm no Adonis. I'm not athletic, don't fit any of the usual categories of attraction, and have a face made for radio. But I've made up for a lot of lost time and had a hell of a sex life in the last 14 years just because I decided I was going to make it happen. I threw myself out there. I decided I wasn't going to care if men rejected me, I would try and keep trying, and I would never, ever, pretend to be anything other than exactly what I am. That strategy has gotten me richly laid and deeply bred, and has satisfied hundreds of Tops and Doms - I've made damn sure of it, because if they're not happy, I'm not happy. All I'm telling you is that there's nothing special about me - I'm not sexually privileged in any way, my skill with my ass is earned, not inborn. I'm not one of the Beautiful People. If I can do this, anybody can do this. You just have to want it badly enough to do the work to get it. If you wait for it to be handed to you, expect to be disappointed. But you know, that's life in general, isn't it?

6. The Glass Compound You ride the waves and don’t ask where they go You swim like lions through the crest And bathe yourself in zebra flesh The ’78 Camaro loaded with a 350-cubic inch V8, fender vents, dual exhaust and a full spoiler out back, roared down the LIE toward Manhattan. Chris’ brain was slowly descending down to earth, back into his body. He had no idea where it’d been, all he knew is it hadn’t been in his head for a long time. Nothing seemed real. Manetti didn't seem real. The powerful purr of the black muscle car didn't seem real. He looked over at Manetti sitting there all smug, all teeth. Manetti glanced sideways at him every now and then. Suddenly, without warning, rage overtook him and he flew into a fury, walloping Manetti on his arm, ribs, thigh—anywhere he could land a punch. “Ow!” Manetti laughed, his forearm up to block most of Chris’ jabs. “It’s not,” Chris landed hard, deliberate strikes against Manetti’s shoulder, “funny!” “Stop. Seriously." Manetti carved the road like he owned it, quickly jetting into the left lane with one hand on the wheel, zooming around a tan Buick, then swerving hard right back into his lane. "You’re going to get us killed.” “I thought you were dead, you shit pig fuck-face. Hate you!” Chris punched his arm. “Ow!” Chris' blows barely registered on Manetti's sculpted frame, but since it made Chris blow off steam he played up the injured act. “Seriously. Stop. Tell me, would you have gone with some escaped cons to do a job if I asked you? No, you would not. Your dumb ass had to be tricked.” Chris crossed his arms and said nothing. Manetti glanced sideways at him again. “Anyway, it was Master Drax’s idea, not mine.” He outstretched his hand and ran it down Chris' arm. Chris angrily brushed him off. Manetti eyed the gym bag; eyed Chris. “So—how much?” Chris turned, shouting, “They were going to kill me!” He turned back again, eyes front, clamming up. “Nah,” Manetti said with only a shade of doubt. “Yes they were. This close, pig fuck.” Chris was stone faced. Manetti let Chris’ accusation roll around in his mind. He, too, went silent for a while, but kept checking the bag Chris held so tightly. “Seriously,” he eventually said, “how much? Hundred K? That's what Drax thought.” Chris stared straight ahead. Manetti eyed him with raised eyebrows, impressed. “One fifty?” “Polanski almost strangled me to death!” Chris spewed, eyes still locked forward. Light was just starting to glow in the rear view mirror. Manetti rocketed the car up to ninety. They sat next to each other in the Camaro’s bucket seats, the gearshift separating them, yet they’d never been farther apart. Chris started shaking. The harder he tried to stop the more he shook. He was coming down from the meth and the adrenaline. He was also hallucinating badly. Unintelligible symbols stood out on the sides of building, on traffic signs, and on the billboards they passed. Egyptian symbols from an eighth grade text book spun out ankhs and sunrays from his fevered brain, falcons and crocodiles, snakes eating their tails, stone etched waves of water. It was more pronounced if he closed his eyes, so he gave into the visions and the tremors. Finally, breaking the silence as much to distract himself from what he was seeing as to confess to Manetti the terror of his last twelve hours, he said, “I shot a man.” “Who hasn’t,” returned Manetti much too quickly. Defensively. It was his turn to turn into a sphinx, steely-eyed, staring straight ahead when Chris looked over. The city glistened in the distance. Chris broke into tears, then quickly grew angry at himself, wiped his face, but the sudden convulsion had a calming effect. Admitting what he’d done, even to the stoic Manetti, eased his fever a bit. He looked into the green light of the dashboard. Watch the red needle twitch at eighty. Out of the blue, he volunteered, "Two." Manetti, from his own mind’s dark place, recalled he’d asked the kid about the money. “Two hundred K, huh?” He whistled. The edges of Chris' lips curled with an undercurrent of unexpected pride. “Not two hundred,” he clarified softly. “Two million.” He knew he wasn’t imagining this fact. He closed his eyes and saw the five rows times four columns times packets ten deep. It was two million dollars he pressed into his lap. Manetti inspected him and judged he wasn't joking. He pulled the Camaro to the side and skidded to a stop. Snatching up the bag, he unzipped it. Under damp t-shirts and jeans he found packet after packet of hundred dollar bills crammed inside. “Fuck. Dude.” He looked at Chris with his jaw open. It was the first time Chris had seen Manetti speechless. The man scanned the sparkling city ahead, looked back in the bag, and then back at Chris. He weighed the likelihood that the crooks had planned to kill the kid, thought about Drax’s involvement, his own complicity. The Camaro’s engine revved, then it tore out, making a U across the traffic island downing some orange cones, and sped away from Manhattan into the rising sun, roaring east along the LIE. *** The 6:45 ferry from Sayville sputtered across the choppy bay. Small, wispy clouds shone pink and gold, while the ferry bobbed, rising and splashing over rough water. Manetti had done a line of coke back in the parking lot before they left the Camaro. He'd offered a line to Chris who looked at him like he had to be a moron. Now his fingers flutter on his kneecap, deep in thought behind his shades. Chris, with both arms wrapped around his gym bag, and Manetti sitting next to him staring off into the distance, were the only passengers sitting on the ferry’s upper deck. When they boarded, they made a strange pair to the crew. A kid in a red track suit much too large for him, the other, a decked out brawny leatherman in jeans, shirtless vest, boots, leather cap, and mirrored sunglasses. Since the boat was heading for the gay mecca known as The Pines, Manetti was hardly an unusual sight, but the kid dressed like a ghetto rapper, now that was something the teenage crew took notice of. All that was missing was big gold chains and a sideways cap. Vanilla Ice in the house, yo, one of them joked in the wheelhouse. A noisy flock of seagulls escorted them across the water. The landing was fast approaching. The store, the motel, the disco became distinct entities as the boat cruised into the harbor. Manetti scrutinized each boat they passed, his mind brewing with plans. A sea plane was getting ready to fly out, having disembarked two passengers who were making their way down the landing. Chris thought he recognized the bigger of the two men—the distinctive mustache, the deep dimples in the handsome face framed by curly auburn hair. It had to be—it was!—the action star, Chuck Brunswick, from his favorite TV show, Stacks Lightning, devoutly watched when he lived at home. Wednesday nights, eight o’clock, every episode, including reruns. From age twelve when it first aired, he watched it for all the fast paced action, the exotic locales, Hawaii, New York, the Congo. By fourteen he became aware that almost every episode featured Chuck Brunswick without a shirt. By fifteen, the car chases lost his interest, as new interests emerged watching each episode alone in his bedroom on Ben’s old black and white TV, a Kleenex box next to him and the door securely locked. He’d been sleepy from the half hour crossing but now he was wide awake, excited. Here, within spitting distance, was a real TV star. And not just any TV star. He nudged Manetti and pointed. Manetti lowered his sunglasses and gave Chris a blank look, then went back to examining the boats. As the ferry passed, Chris made out the famous tuft of dark chestnut hair sticking out the man’s aqua polo shirt. He didn't know the other guy. They were wheeling black suitcases that both had lightning bolt decals on them. The teenage crew cut the engines to prevent unnecessary wake that would disturb the harbor’s yachts. As they neared the dock, all but the captain scuttled downstairs. They threw open the side door and tossed a line to one of the crew members that had jumped off. With the boat secured, they slid out a ramp. One of the teenagers pointed out the actor to his mates, as the celebrity and his companion rounded the corner of the thumping disco. Chris flew down the boats steep stairs, Manetti barely keeping up. "That's Chuck Brunswick up ahead," Chris said to Manetti on the ramp. Even though he was still miffed with Manetti, seeing someone so famous he couldn't hold in his excitement. "Who?" Manetti said. "He does that show Stacks Lightning,” Chris explain. Still Manetti was clueless. “Where he's a spy? Always chasing bad guys in cars and boats, and sleeping with lots of babes?" "Oh," Manetti said with distain. "An actor." Chris gave Manetti a sour look. They trailed the TV star and his companion for several blocks. The disco discharged a few revelers coming out bleary-eyed, squinting and shading their eyes to adjust to the morning light. Chris speaking about Chuck Brunswick was the first time in hours they’d spoken. Right after they left the outer borough, Manetti told Chris he'd made an executive decision. Drax could wait. He was enacting his own Plan B and that meant visiting an old friend in The Pines. Eyeing the tall, broad-shouldered actor ahead on the boardwalk, Chris ventured, "So everybody here’s queer?" Manetti confirmed with a nod. Chris contemplated that. The boardwalk was uneven and Manetti in boots was trying to take it slow and not trip. After several more blocks, seeing they were falling further and further behind the TV star, Chris groaned, “How much farther is your friend’s house?" Manetti told him it was at the end of the boardwalk. Chris frowned, and gave into Manetti slower pace. "Then how far is the beach," Chris asked. Manetti nodded at an approaching walkway. Chris peered down the path and saw shimmering waves. "If we’re not going to catch him, I want to walk on the beach," he said, turning down the walkway without waiting for Manetti. Manetti huffed. Boots in sand would be harder than the uneven boardwalk, but he followed the kid anyway. Specifically, he followed the green gym bag. On the beach Chris' mood brightened considerably. He was almost his old self. He’d pulled off his sneakers and socks, and wiggled his toes in the sand as he trotted next to the crashing waves. The sound of the sea, the salt spray, cold early morning sand—it was a reminder of home. It cleared his senses. He picked up a driftwood stick and drew a line in the sand in front of him, jumped over it, then flung the stick into the foam. The houses that lined the beach were grand. Rich in wood and glass, they were tributes to wealth—honestly made or otherwise. Large two story structures, all with decks and pools, all stacked alongside each other. One, he observed, had sliding windows who's four large glass panes folded right into the walls, leaving the living room’s fourth wall completely open. Another one had a pool whose beach front side was a giant window of glass. Two joggers in speedos, a blond and a curly red-head, passed him. They turned their heads back to get a look at the kid in the hip hop getup. They laughed when they saw it was a young white kid. To Chris they looked like models out of a magazine—flawless, tanned, manikin smooth, air-brushed generic. Manetti tromped behind trying to catch up. Once he did, he draped his arm across Chris' shoulder and told him to take it easy on him. Chris smiled to himself. "This is just like Long Beach," he said. "This is just like Long Beach?" Manetti questioned. "See." He stopped and turned to the ocean. "This beach is like facing south. Most everything on the west coast faces west, and on the east coast faces east. But here, the ocean faces south. In California, Long Beach is the only place that faces south, like here, see?" "Well, I did not know that," Manetti responded. Chris had lost the Prior Puss, and he had to admit, with the kid beaming like he was, he could do him right here out in the open. "Ya know,” Manetti said, “I'm from Long Beach, too. Long Beach, New York." "Well, I did not know that," Chris mimicked Manetti with his own words. They exchanged a smile, the first in a long, long time. Genuinely interested, he asked, "Where's your Long Beach?" They had started walking again. "It's about forty miles ‘at-a-way." Manetti pointed straight ahead. Chris wanted to know if they could walk there from here. "Only if you're Jesus," Manetti replied, and they laughed. A couple of waves crashed to shore as they padded through the sand. For a few minutes they were silent, just listening to the sea’s rhythm, a set of waves, a pause, then another set, on and on. Manetti cocked his head to one side, said with wistfully, "It's one of the first things Ben and I found we had in common. Long Beach." Manetti questioned why he volunteered that. Immediately he regretted it. Chris looked over at Manetti. Was he sad? Sad didn’t fit his image of him. He tried to read Manetti, but behind the mirrored sunglasses, staring down the beach, he was impenetrable. "Do you think he's all right?” Chris wondered aloud. “Ben is?” "Like I said, he's changed." It was Manetti's turn to clam up. They trooped through the sand. There weren't many more houses left before the town ended and turned to forest. “So what’s Plan B,” Chris asked. “Hmm.” Manetti took his time. “We’re dropping in on a regular of mine. His name’s Tobias Glass. Real rich. A real pig when you get him going. He was this child actor way before my time, now he has a Village cabaret act. Show tunes and shit. He’s gonna take one look at you and will want to eat you up. Don’t let ‘em unless I get a cut.” Chris laughed nervously. “He’s got connections. If anyone can find us a boat, he can. Then we’re off to the Caribbean or South America—Belize maybe. Your choice.” Chris listened to him. Then stopped dead in his tracks. “Wait. You want to leave the country with the two million? Without Ben? Screw over Master Drax? Are you out of your fuckin’ out mind! Master Drax will skin you alive! Me too, probably Ben just for being related to me. That’s your brilliant Plan B? Neg-a-tive,” he said, shaking his head. He turned around and started walking back to the ferry dock, when Manetti hooked him with two words. “Ben’s here.” Chris halted abruptly. “Where?” He glared at Manetti. “A couple possibilities.” He waited till Chris walked back to him. “I have other clients on the island. One of them had purchased time with Big Ben, as he’s called. That was a week back. If you let me do a little digging, Chief, give me some time, I think I can find him, then the three of us can sail right off the map.” He approached Chris, closing in the final pitch, “do you know what kind of life we’d have, baby?” He reached under Chris’ baggy shirt and pinched his tits. “A life on the run, is my guess. Brody and Polanski said Master Drax actually cut the skin off a guy named Jackson.” “Then Jackson was stupid. We’re not stupid.” Chris was standing his ground in the sand even with Manetti playing with his nipples. “C’mon, will you at least give me twenty-four hours, let me ask around for Ben, and a boat?” Manetti cozied up intimately right in Chris’ face. He drew his hands down around Chris’ bubble butt, stroking it lovingly, pushing Chris’ crotch into his own. He felt Chris stir. Chris pushed his hands away and resumed their trek with a bit of a stiffy swinging in his jogging suit. “Twenty-four hours—but you have to find Ben. And I’m not letting go of my bag.” Manetti saddled up next to Chris, draping his arm over his shoulder, pulling the kid up under his hairy armpit, assured his scent carried its own persuasion. They walked in step but Chris became increasingly conflicted. “So if you find Ben, then what? That’s going to be a whole other can of worms. You, me, Ben.” “Are you shittin’ me?” Manetti erupted skyward in a wail of laughter. “Do you have any idea of the fucked up groups Ben and I have been in—on and off camera? Ask me about us and my step dad at that skanky Jersey motel shoot. Better yet, don’t. Talk about awkward—but even that turned out interesting once Drax got the cameraman naked. Family on family make up half the porn industry.” Manetti pointed to the last staircase on the beach before the town turned to forest. They veered toward it. At the top of the stairs, a large wooden fence extended from the beach back to the main boardwalk. Halfway along the fence they came across an archway with a large weathered door. "This is Glass' compound. He won't be up for hours, but I know where he keeps a spare." He reached up inside one of the sconces and produced a key. He opened the door and they entered a courtyard that could have been in the middle of Japan. The garden was lush in greenery and rich in detail—a Buddha serenely rested on a mound of green moss; an area of white sand raked with wave-like patterns surrounding an upright rock; trickling water flowed out a bamboo branch splashing onto a bowl of black, smooth stones. They crossed a red lacquered bridge that extended over a pond filled with lily pads. The light through the overhanging branches played on the water, and beneath the covering large fish swam, their scales, luminous red and orange, sparked like underwater fire. Coy fish, Manetti told Chris. The pond was fed by a running stream that ran throughout the compound. If silence could make a sound it was this. They came to the compound’s courtyard. Manetti stopped Chris and pointed. A doe and her fawn stood at the forest’s edge, nibbling sprigs of grass they could reach through a broken slat in the wood fence. Chris couldn’t help himself and gasped just loud enough to prick up the doe’s ears, and the two disappeared into the dense forest. A swimming pool, outlined with grey slate, laid in the center of the compound. Four structures surrounded it. The main house, closest to the beach, wasn't very big, but beyond the plate glass and sliding windows, Chris saw it was minimally but opulently furnished. Sleek black couches were in the living room, and a white grand piano stood in a corner with a large dining room standing in the cool shadows. The remaining three independent structures were cabanas. Each with a large picture window. Each with their curtains drawn. The sound of someone lightly snoring came out of the cabana on the far side of the pool. In the cabana to their right, men murmured within. Two wheeled suitcases parked next to the door. Chris pulled excitedly on Manetti’s arm pointing to lightning bolt decals on the suitcases’ sides. Manetti shook him off and went into the last cabana. He came out motioning for Chris to come in. They went in and Chris immediately ran into his reflection in a tall full-length wooden mirror. Seeing himself in his baggy red track suit for the first time he thought no wonder he got strange looks. He dropped his shoes and flopped backward on the feathery bed. Though the room was warm and stuffy, he melted into the cool white comforter. Manetti opened a high window and a skylight to get a cross-breeze going. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots, ran a hand through his hair. In the full-length mirror he looked at his own reflection. Maybe he’d wait for the kid to fall asleep and just run off with the money. That would be the simplest plan. What kept him here? The Prior brothers? Talk about not simple. He knew he was a mass of contradictory impulses, had known it for a long time, ever since he moved to New York, probably before if he let himself think about it. He refused to go there. He pushed off his jeans and underwear, and tossed off his cap. Down to just his skin and leather vest, he crawled over to Chris, who turned away from him, not mad but exhausted. Manetti scooched closer till he was spooning the boy. Chris didn't protest, even when Manetti pressed his erection into the butt of his track suit. Earth quickly was falling away as he fell deeper into the soft bed, deeper down the rabbit hole of this new life. He felt the buckle unfasten on his belt, and Manetti pulling down his pants. His butt exposed, he fell asleep dreaming he was on a train, then he became the train, specifically the train coupler, those metal clasps that, like hands, fold into one another to secure train cars together. Somewhere in the world he felt Manetti couple into him, acquire a hold, while he allowed the rod to enter, then gripped it from slipping out of his ass. Who held whom? Manetti lifted off Chris' top and pulled his skin into him. Pelt on hairless boy, hairless boy melting into a bed of fur. Manetti entering him deeper made him moan in his sleep. His ass was still tender, he protested semi-conscious but didn't reject. Manetti went deeper still. Chris gasped louder, struggling to overcome the pain he still felt from the recent abuse. Manetti's ridged pole did not give nor forgive, it pushed in beyond the pain. Chris pushed back, impaling himself, deep, seizing on the pain to raise himself out of his hazy sleep, not ignoring the penetrating object but beginning to ride it, riding Manetti, forcing himself to feel the pain, want the pain, waking with the pain. Manetti obliged. He was good at his craft. He was the best rough trade in town, wearing nothing but his leather vest and a hard on, sticking it to the boy. He would teach Chris to be rough, hardened like him. He pushed the boy's pants off his ankles, pulled out of Chris’ hole, raised the boy’s leg and was back on top of Chris, penetrating him, before Chris even realized how he’d accomplished the feat. He looked into Chris' face, pushed his massive erection further now that he could lay his crotch directly over Chris' open cavern. The added inch made Chris lurch in pain from the spot where Brody had fisted him too deep. Manetti waited right on that torturous spot, neither retreating nor pushing him beyond it. He waited, making only the slightest of movements, an itch to scratch, waiting and watching Chris’ face turn from pain to desire. He brushed away a lock of blond hair that had caught in an eyelash. He kissed his mouth. Chris opened for him. Once Manetti saw lust in Chris’ open eyes he turned his attention to his bucking hole. He stayed in a holding pattern, enjoying the pleasuring of expanding Chris' hole with his growing shaft, feeling it surrender to him completely. The cabanas always had supplies of lube and poppers, among other pleasures, tucked away in the nightstands. Manetti reached in the drawer and withdrew some mentholated cream on his fingers. As he gently fucked Chris’ hole, sensually stimulated his opening with his massive bush, he added a finger, then two, to pull the boy’s hole wider. Chris objected, saying it hurt, but with the mentholated cream soothing his tender canal. Manetti convinced the boy with few words that this is what he wanted. With four fingers lathered he pulled his dripping cock out and replaced it with his large palm. He took all the time necessary for Chris to accept his hand, pulling out a bit when he reach his second knuckles. He could sense Chris wanting him to push in again. He did, sliding four fingers up to the third knuckle, then held there, looking for Chris’ eyes to say yes. He knew the boy was deciding and he’d abide by his decision. He felt the clenched muscles in Chris’ ass relax and he went in an inch more, up to the web of his thumb. He chanced a half rotation, another test to see where Chris’ mind and body were. After a second, he felt he boy bear down on his hand, a signal of his willingness to surrender his hole. Manetti removed his hand as Chris moaned his disappointment. “Take one of the poppers, boy. That tall one.” Chris obeyed. It was one of Manetti’s favorite English poppers, much stronger than its American counterpart. He greased his whole hand with the mentholated cream to overcome the fear Manetti believed the convicts instilled. He pushed a wad of grease into the boy’s crack and smeared it around with three fingers, then pushed those three fingers back into his chute. They slid in easily. Manetti added a fourth and told Chris to take a hit. He waited till Chris recapped the bottle, then slid his thumb in, told Chris to look at him. Chris was trying to focus his gaze on Manetti, and Manetti saw the moment the poppers kicked in. Chris hole grew relaxed and wide as lust for Manetti pushed his hand over Manetti’s palm. In one constant movement the boy mounted Manetti’s whole hand and slid his entrails over the ridges down to the man’s hairy wrists. He felt each strand of hair slide through his loosened sphincter. Manetti slowly twisted his wrist tickling the cunt he was giving the boy. Knuckles ground against sensitive walls, the wrist’s black fur slithered over the exposed sphincter nerve endings, silent fingertips touched blind boundaries that yielded, surrendering Chris’ resistance to Manetti’s will. Manetti fisted Chris’ mind even more than his body. Chris’ synapses were firing and he was helpless to resist Manetti’s mastery. The sensations painful and inviting. The cold-hot feeling in his loins made his body undulated onto Manetti’s hand, like a snake swallowing a mouse. Manetti’s hand went further into his hole, further than it had ever been. “Take three more hits, boy,” instructed Manetti. Chris again obeyed. Manetti applied more salve over his wrist and this time over his forearm while Chris huffed and replaced the cap. His eyes were glued on Manetti. Manetti watched as a lewdness sweep across the boy, not just his face but over his whole body, his mouth open just as his hole was opening. Of his own volition he crawled down further onto Manetti’s wrist and the boy began the journey of the man’s hirsute forearm. Manetti flexed his wrist twisting in exploration of where his hand was in the boy’s body, and where it should go next. He straightened his hand and slowly pulled the boy’s colon away from its mooring so that the passage extended along the length of his forearm. It was a long process, he knew, that would change the boy forever. Chris traveled halfway down Manetti’s forearm before he realized how deep Manetti was inside him. A world of pleasure exploded in his core, physically and mentally, when he looked in the full-length mirror and saw how much of Manetti’s forearm he’d taken. And still he slid ever deeper on the proffered arm. He inched serpentine-like, feeling the ancient original sin drawing him on, driving him deeper into it, not able to get enough of the pleasure Manetti was offering. He saw Manetti had no boundaries either and wouldn’t stop until Chris satisfied the powerful lust he had for him. Yes, it meant physically Chris wanted the fucker’s whole arm up him, but the revelation, rational or not, was that he wanted to make his body an offering to the man. “I want,” Chris moaned as he agonized over ever scintilla he could take of Manetti, “all of you.” But he was fighting a two stage battle: for every millimeter he took in of Manetti’s hand, he also had to accommodate the ever-widening girth of forearm. Manetti thick, muscular arm was as much of a challenge as taking his hand ever-deeper. This is when Manetti took over. “Take another hit, baby. Relax. Lay down. Daddy’s gonna drive.” While Chris prepared himself with a deep inhalation, Manetti’s other hand played with Chris’ cock. His greasy hand toyed with the boy’s balls and ran numbing fingers over the boy’s nub. The cooling sensation wasn’t lost on the boy. His groin joined the sensation of coolness his whole ass was feeling inside as well. Far from numb, his body was on fire and able to take more intense sensation, a deeper fisting, than when the convict were pummeling him. Now between the poppers and the looseness of his body, as well as the loosening of his morals and inhibitions, he began writhing in pure sensuality when he felt Manetti curling his fingers inside him balling into a fist. “Yeah. Fuck yeah. Fist my hole, daddy,” Chris hoarsely cried. Manetti’s balled fists slowly pulled out to the edge of Chris’ sphincter, giving it such a beautiful stretch, he could see his black wrist hair through the translucent taut pink skin of Chris’ ass lips. Chris’ gulped in air as Manetti encouraged him to take it, take it. He could see Chris’ couldn’t sustain such rapid breathing nor such an intense stretch. Manetti pushed back inside to the depth where he started. It was nautical miles of sensations traveled in two second through Chris’ hole. All the nerves stroked went straight to his brain—hole to brain skipping the rest of his body. The boy’s synapses could hardly keep up. Desire and sensation manifest in deranged calls to fuck my hole, daddy, open my pussy, give me a sloppy cunt, with Manetti responding, encouraging, validating everything Chris was saying. “You like daddy giving you a cunt.” “Yes, daddy, open my hole.” “You want daddy to fuck you like this.” Agreement. More aggression. The fist came out and immediately pushed back to try to get in. It took a moment, but both of them wanted it, so it slid right in. Making the initial break and re-entry, triggered something in both of them. They wanted more just like that. Obscene wet farts emitted from Chris’ ass. Each fart increase the capacity to take Manetti’s fist deeper into him. They were in a cycle of passion—Chris wanting to give, Manetti wanting to take. Chris could see, and Manetti approved, that after several punches, Chris’ hole blossomed into a small rosebud. Manetti encouraged it, tended to this new flower, inserted a single finger to wiggle around in it, excite the bloom to display more itself. “Look in the mirror,” Manetti said, pulling Chris’ ass lips apart, showing the boy what his opened hole looked like. “Push,” he ordered and Chris bore down, and a small mushroom sprouted from his hole. At the center, the beginning of his red inner flesh peeked through. Manetti resumed methodically fisting his hole. For the next hour he put Chris through practiced paces, training him to think about nothing but being a hole. After crouching then kneeling off the bed, Manetti grew restless. Slowly he adjusted his position and slid up next to Chris parallel to his body, his head next to Chris’ open hole. The position also afforded Chris the ability to pleasure Manetti’s stiffened member sticking up right in front of him. With intense gratitude triggered by Manetti manipulating his hole, Chris sucked Manetti with an urgency of the famished. His throat opened and the whole shaft went down till his face was smothered in thick, black bush. And now Manetti, lying next to the boy, with less force but deeper penetration, could maneuver his hand easily, pushing Chris to his limits. Chris handed him the opened popper bottle to share. After his first hit, the man felt the intensity of his lust boil over, let the chemicals overtake him and felt deeper inside the kid’s colon. He traced the boy’s resisting internal muscles, teased them relentlessly with his middle finger until they submitted and he won another quarter each of Chris’ body. Methodically, while Chris nursed his cock, he gained more territory that almost took Chris to the crook of his arm. Chris ran his hand over Manetti’s arm to feel how far his forearm with inside. He felt how close he was to the man’s elbow. Carnal thoughts about Manetti raged inside. He lifted his leg like a submissive dog so Manetti had easier access, to take as much of him as he wanted. At the same time he lifted Manetti’ leg and went in search of the man’s nougaty center. It didn’t take him long to find Manetti’s spongy hole. Licking it only made it expand. The sixty-nining of pleasure drove them both to experiment. With Chris’ leg in the air Manetti felt free to pull apart the kid’s pussy, grab hold of his leg and pull out and push back in. It made Chris crazy. Chris reciprocated by finding the nightstand lube and applying it to Manetti sprouting rectum. With a slippery hand he pressed into Manetti who readily gave way. His hand easily slipped into the man, and for the first time he felt what a real sloppy hole felt like. His hand balled into a fist as soon as he entered. He was spelunking deep inside a cavern that seemed endless. There was no resistance as he passed his wrist deep into what felt like a second opening. Manetti bore down on the kid’s fist and the kid’s forearm easily slid deep into Manetti’s hairy hole. As much as he thrilled at what Manetti was doing inside him, it was compounded by how he got off watching the hairs around Manetti’s hole slide in and out with each pump he produced. They glided into each other with gratifying moans each time they crossed a new boundary. With bodies pressed against one another, their free hands ran across skin, stroking cocks, squeezing balls, running a big hand over smooth skin, running a small hand over muscled fur. They couldn’t get enough of each other. When Chris passed his elbow through Manetti’s hole, the man cried out and told Chris to pull back. Chris stopped, followed through with how Manetti had been treating him, slowly rolled his fingers across the sealed chamber that then opened like a camera lens and he passed his small hand through. Manetti eased out of Chris and fell on his back. He put one leg over Chris’ torso so the boy was at an advantaged angle to penetrate him further. Chris rolled the poppers to him. Manetti wiped the grease off the bottle cap, unscrewed it and inhaled deeply. Chris knew by now how easy it was to finger a resisting wall, feel for the blood pumping through the thin, retreating membranes, and allow Manetti to internally guide him where his hand should travel. Working together, Chris found the small opening each hit of poppers revealed. He followed the opening that unveiled new chambers his hand could conquer. When he was up to his bicep, Manetti was twitching in ecstasy to the point where he couldn’t take it. He signal for Chris to withdraw. Chris didn’t move but left his hand exactly where it was. Manetti pleaded for him to back off, but Chris laid there tranquilly. Manetti found he was starting to rut on Chris’ small arm, fighting within himself whether he want more or wanted release. In a fog, the man lifted his head to find Chris smiling ear to ear. “You little fucker,” he said to Chris, and started the long journey of extracting the kid’s arm from his body. Chris helped him to withdraw but not completely. After a number of inches of relief, Chris would go back into Manetti’s colon, which Manetti was not completely opposed to. But it soon it became a matter of will as opposed to sensation, and Manetti refused the kid’s domination. Manetti crab walked back the last of Chris’ forearm ordering him to let him go. Like a lizard losing its tail, Manetti shot off the last foot of Chris’ arm. His cock dripped with pre-cum, and where he’d dragged his ass over the sheets, there was a trail of brown mucus. “You little fuck. Get over here. Lick that up,” he said grabbing Chris’ neck, pushing him into the slime. “Lick it up, I said.” Chris did. Much too eagerly. Manetti struggled to regain dominance after surrendering his hole so completely. He flipped the kid on his back. Chris’ chest and crotch were coated in the brown sludge. From the skylight the sun shown on the kid’s stained face. He glistened in contented degraded radiance. Manetti slapped the smile off his face, pulled up his legs and stuck his cock all the way to the root in one surge. Chris grunted, but was so opened, he welcomed him inside. Manetti soon found a rhythm that included slapping the kid's ass. He soon found his breath accelerating. Chris was beneath him taking in all the pleasure of his pounded flesh. He reached up and twisted Manetti tits, which made Manetti hammer him faster and harder. The boy wrapped his legs around the man’s waist, bucked up his ass with equal fervor. As the pulse of their fucking increased, their fierce pace drawing to an inevitability, Chris took one of Manetti’s hands curled on the side of his head and placed it on his neck. He took Manetti's other hand and placed that too on his neck. Manetti recognized what the boy was asking for. Like the rough trade he’d been trained to be, he obliged. He started squeezing his neck as Chris stroked his dick with increasing desperation. Manetti was good rough trade, fuck no, he was great rough trade! He was all powerful, in control, scum fuck bad ass rough trade. He was back in the saddle, enjoying how he was abusing his bottom boy. He watched Chris' face turn bright red, watched his eyes bulge, watched him struggle silently beneath his crushing hands. Chris’ hands clasped around Manetti’s wrist, feeling the strength, their girth, the hair. When Manetti erupted inside Chris, Chris exploded over him even harder. Beneath his easing hands, the unconscious kid flopped a few time like a landed fish. The little fuck even had a smile on his face while he rasped in a daze. Manetti’s pubes rested between Chris’ hairless cheeks. As he laid on top of him, his dick draining the remains of his wad, he felt small internal clutching like he was being milked by the boy. That, too, quieted after a few moments. As his breathing returned to normal, he examined this blond hair kid’s young face beneath him. He pushed back some of his matted hair caked with shit juice. What exactly did he think he could teach this street urchin, this abused stray puppy about being hardened, about being rough? Jesus fuck, whatever the men in his family had done to him was already hard-wired in his brain. It was buried so shallow under the surface, only a scratch revealed it. Passed out, Chris’ legs slid down Manetti’s thighs and Manetti rolled off him, still hard, his chest covered in the kid’s spooge. On his back, mindlessly he traced a finger through a string of the kid’s white sperm. He tasted its warm saltiness. He followed passing clouds in the skylight, heard Chris breathing beside him. He could see both Prior brothers were fucked up, out of control, but in opposite ways. Well, he was a fuck up too, wasn’t he? Sure, he’d promised he would find Ben. He knew he could. But would bringing them together defuse Ben or detonate Chris? Or maybe it’d be the other way around. Either way he’d be in the cross-hairs, suffer the collateral damage. It was stupid to care about either of these stupid brothers. It was stupid for a hustler to even care at all. He got up to take a shower, and spied the gym bag on the nightstand. The smartest thing to do would be to swipe the kid’s bag while he was still out and roar off in his Camaro. He looked at the mess sprawled on the bed, this sprawled out filthy mess of a kid. Looking at himself in the mirror, he ran a hand through his mane. Yeah, he’d swipe the money. That was the smart move. Uncomplicate things. Make a clean break. Yeah, he convinced himself, right after a shower.

I have taken anon loads at group parties, had fuck buddies choose the tops for me, and had a que of tops behind me waiting for a turn, I have hosted for anon loads in hotels in the UK and USA and I have a relatively rare rate of getting an STD, In my view, these days many guys who fuck me know their status, or are on Prep, or undetectable, and test regularly for other STDS so in say three years I have had gono once and chlyamidia twice, which considering the mount of cock and cum I have taken is hardly a burden.

Part 2 　 I awoke Saturday morning nicely refreshed from a good nights sleep. It was a nice day, so I decided to sit outside on the porch and drink my morning coffee. As I was sitting there enjoying the wonderful sun, I heard the door of the otherside of the duplex open. I turned to look over there and Hank and Tom walked out, also drinking coffee. When they saw me, they both waved and went down the steps and came over to my side. I asked them to have a seat. We all sat around for a while then drinking coffee and chatting, again, about nothing in particular. Then Hank told me, "I guess you know now that I am gay and so is Tom?" I told him I had kind of guessed it, but did not add that I had heard them last night. Hank asked, "That doesn't change anything with you does it?" I told him it didn't mean a thing to me at all, it was his business. He kind of looked relieved and said, "That is great, so many think badly of it." I shrugged my shoulders and said, "it was no big deal, I was always curious as to why guys and gals were like that, but it really wasn't any of my business to judge." He smiled and thought that was a good way to be and if I had any questions to just ask and he would try to answer them as best as he could. Our talk turned to other things then, the weather, work and so forth, nothing much just passing the time. Then Hank and Tom got up and went back inside Hank's place. I got up and went in to tidy up and do my dishes. Then up to my bedroom to make the bed up and maybe take a shower. I heard noises again and again, I leaned towards the wall to listen. It seemed Hank and Tom were back at it again as I could hear the moans of pleasure again. Both seemed to like a lot of talk during also. Could hear them telling each other how great they felt. Hank telling Tom how great it felt being deep inside him and Tom saying how great it felt having his hole pounded deep and hard.

So I turned 29 last Thursday and I figured it'd be good luck to receive Wednesday's to Thursday's midnight full of cum. When I got out of work I called on a couple of friends and went over to get bred by both of them. On my way there one of them wanted us to meet an hour later while he got ready, so I opened up Grindr and saw that this hung professor from my school was somewhat near so I texted him and was told to come over. He's this older handsome guy with a short but really thick cock. He's made me bleed a couple of times when spit wasn't enough and my common sense wasn't particularly strong either, so I knew that this time I'd have to take it slow if I wanted to take on those two big dicks later on. I sucked my professor for a while, made sure I choked on it so as to have some spit and mucus in my mouth and use that to get my hole really wet. I pushed him onto the bed and sat on top of him, slowly pushing his head into my asshole, releasing and squeezing slowly as I got used to his girth. Once it was balls deep he started fucking me hard, grabbing me forcefully and pushing me onto his cock. He was soon to finish and I relished knowing I already had at least once load in me. We talked for a bit and I got dressed and left towards where the other two guys were waiting for me cocks hard. Once I got there they were really with their cocks out and hard, so I practically jumped onto my knees and deepthroated them both. I choked, coughed and choked some more of them both, taking a short break to admire the two hot dicks that would soon be stirring the load I already had in me. We moved over to the bed and on all fours I perked my ass up towards the curved dick while I deepthroated the other one. Pushing my ass out and squeezing it got a horny moan out of the top and he shoved his dick all the way to the base in one swift motion. I choked again on the dick I was sucking and that made by ass push a little on the dick it had inside, which made the top laugh. He then proceeded to fuck me really hard, resting his weight on top of my head making sure I wouldn't take the other dick out of my throat. I was told to turn around and soon had the other dick in me, switching between the tops I sucked and got fucked by. "Holy shit, this hole is fucking wet", the guy fucking me said, and grabbed onto my waist pushing me hard against his cock. I felt his balls twitch but didn't figured he'd be cumming so soon, but his moaning and groaning let me know I was being bred by the second time that night. Once he stopped moving and I'd finished milking his dick with my ass, I turned around and sucked his soft dick while the other guy ate my ass out. "Relax that hole, I wanna taste the cum", he said, to which I replied I wouldn't. "Why not?", he asked. "I've worked hard for those loads, I'm not letting them go that easy". "Loads, you say? So just not my friend's in there?", he asked with a grin. "Nah, figured I deserved more than two prior to my birthday", I replied, to which he said, while shoving his dick deep in me, "I'll leave you a present in there too in a sec". That made me chuckle and I started jerking off, timing my cumming to his, while resting my head right next to the other already fully soft dick. After a while of non-stop fucking I could feel him getting ready to cum so I squeezed my hole and got ready for his load. He shot it really deep, hurting me in the process but also making sure I was left with no cum in my balls. After that I cleaned his dick off with my mouth, thanked them both, got dressed and left. That was on Thursday, my last load since as I went to the beach during the whole weekend. Tomorrow after work I'll be hitting the bathhouse again, so another story coming soon.

7. Damon The wife had left for the weekend, visiting her sister, and it was my chance to do everything that she didn't need to know about. I slammed back into the boy. Aiden had introduced him, but I couldn't remember his name. James, maybe. Jay, maybe. It didn't matter. All that mattered was my cock, and how all eleven inches was buried deep in his defenseless hole. "Give me that pipe," I said to the other boy. His name was Tucker. I had fucked him the last time Tanya had visited her sister. I remembered him because he had passed out when I forced the last inch of my cock into his hole. I didn't bother to stop. His hole had stretched open to accommodate and welcome my dick and I was not going to turn down such a pleasure. Besides, Edward had given Tucker a safe word. It was not my fault he had fainted before he had a chance to use it. "Yes, Sir," Tucker said. He handed me the pipe; it was still relatively full of crystal. After her sister, Tanya was going on a work trip. I had several days to enjoy myself, and I was going to do it properly. I took the pipe and torch, and started to heat it up. "Now we're really going to have some fun," I said. Well, at least I was going to have some fun. Tucker and the boy Jay, well, they were the toys that I was going to have so much fun playing with. Hopefully, I wouldn't break them. But, if I did, there were plenty more faggots where they came from, hungry for my thick, long, black cock. I stuck the pipe in my mouth, and inhaled. The drugs were clean and potent and I sucked in thick clouds, letting them fill my lungs. It had been a while since I had partied, but Edward's monthly event was the perfect place to indulge. It was a collection of horny men and eager boys, where the only goal was pleasure. The drugs were plentiful, and mercifully, the condoms were non-existent. "Oh yeah," I grunted, trying to hold as much of the hit in as possible. I pulled out, until just my dickhead was inside Jay's hole. My shaft was wet and glossy. Since I had used only the smallest amount of spit as lube, most of it was cum, relentlessly injected by other men at the party. "Fucking slut," I said, then slammed my cock back into his tight pink hole. His hole made a lovely squishing sound, as my dick rubbed the accumulated spooge into his hole. "Oh god," Jay moaned. It was hard to tell if it was pleasure or pain. It was harder to tell if I cared or not. "Take it, faggot," I grunted, finally exhaling the crystal cloud. "Take my hard fucking cock." "Another one, Sir?" Tucker asked. I had handed him the pipe, and he was offering it back to me. "Why not?" I said, and took it from him. "The night is young, and we are all just getting started." Once more, Tucker dutifully held the torch under the pipe as I sucked down the thick clouds. It felt good to be getting high again. My tolerance wasn't as high as at previous times, and even the few hits I had done had gotten me flying. Aiden had mentioned that Jay was a novice, but that was hardly my concern now. The drugs were flowing through my blood, concentrating in my hard cock, pushing me forward. Another hit was going to take me to the next level, and I hoped that Jay would be able to keep up. "Think he can take it?" Tucker asked me. I gave him a sharp look. "Sir?" Tucker added quickly. This is what I loved about these parties. I was the dominant man here, and the faggots did what I told them. Outside of the penthouse, I was just another black man, subject to all petty indignities and insults. But here, I was a god among men, my status in direct correlation with the size of my black cock and the wrath with which I used it. I didn't have to ask for anything; from the finest drugs, best alcohol, and tightest holes, it was provided to me as if I were born to it. And when I fucked, I could fuck the way I wanted: without mercy or compassion. It was not making love, it was fucking, and any pleasure the bottom got was a personal affront. My lungs were full, so I nodded almost imperceptibly to Tucker. He took the cue, and pulled the torch away. "Please?" he asked, and I nodded. He took the still-smoking pipe and inhaled deeply on it. As good as Jay's hole was, it was only enough to whet my appetite. Tucker was going to be my main course, and he would need to be flying if he wanted to take what my mind was plotting out for him. I slammed my cock back into Jay, as I exhaled my hit. The young man shuddered, but he quickly controlled it and let me take advantage of his hole. "Give him the hit," I told Tucker. Jay was the appetizer; I would get him ready for the next man, and he would get me ready for Tucker. I wanted to deliver Jay tweaked out, cummed up, and broken down. It would take him some time to learn his role as a faggot, a plaything for men, but the men he would meet tonight would be excellent teachers. I exhaled my hit. The thick white cloud engulfed the three of us, and I could barely see the glow of the torch through it. Tucker knew what was coming for him, and he was getting prepared the only way he knew how. "I'm sorry," Tucker whispered to Jay. I don't think he cared if I heard. Tucker pressed his lips against Jay's and exhaled the hit into the other boy's lungs. As the drug began to hit, I could feel Jay's hole relax and open up. Of course, it just allowed me to penetrate further into him. The two faggots made out, but I didn't care. The longer Tucker kissed Jay, the longer Jay had to hold the drugs in his lung and the higher he would get. He was already starting to shake a bit; he was a novice crystal addict. "Oh fuck," I moaned, as my dick slipped deeper into the boy. It seemed impossible that I could fit that much meat into Jay, but the boy had taken all of it. I pistoned it in and out of him, pushing myself closer to the eventual release. "I'm gonna breed your faggot hole," I grunted. That piqued Jay's attention. He broke off the kiss with Tucker, turned his head and stared at me. He was still wearing his glasses. It was a small thing, but made him seem even more naked than if he were without them. "But is it safe?" he asked, as he exhaled his hit. The cloud was dense, but not dense enough for my liking. "I dunno. Are you on the pill? I've gotten two girls pregnant already," I said. "And did I tell you to exhale?" I grabbed his arm, yanked him back up, and whispered in his ear. "You're gonna do three things for me, faggot. First, you're gonna do a proper hit from the pipe and hold it for as long as I want you to. Second, you're going to let me wreck this faggot hole the way I want to. And third, you're gonna thank me properly when I breed you. You got that faggot?" "Yes," Jay said, gasping for breath as I forced my shaft into him once more. I twisted him arm a bit more. Jay yelped in pain and my cock twitched in pleasure. "Yes what, faggot?" "Yes, sir," Jay said. This time it was my turn to shiver. There was Nothing like hearing a faggot call me "Sir" to get going. "But, maybe, can you not be quite so hard?" "Fuck, faggot," I said, and slammed into him as hard as I could. "Oh god," he grunted. No one around us even looked up. The noises of men dominating other men were often loud and agonizing. Many of us found them arousing. I twisted his arm a hair more. He was starting to sweat, but he still smelled like expensive hair products. Aiden had said it was his first time at the party, and I was glad I could make it memorable. "Sir is more than enough for me," I said. I released his arm; the faggot's ass clenched again as it flopped back to his side. I loved how it hurt more when I released it than when I held it in. "Now, do a hit, and see if you still want to ask me to go slow." "Yes, Sir," he said. A bit of swagger had left his voice. The job was not fully done; that, of course, would take weeks. But I had started the process. "Yes, Sir," he repeated. He was swinging his arm slowly, bringing sensation back and finding out how badly I had pulled the muscles. "This time, I want you to do it," I turned to Tucker. "Give him the pipe and torch." Tucker handed them to Jay. As Jay stuck the pipe in his mouth, I pushed my cock all the way into him and held it there. "Make it a good hit." Tucker was a dutiful faggot, and explained how to hit the pipe to Jay. "Hold it a little further away. Let it melt. Only when the bowl has filled do you inhale." I forced myself not to pull out and slam back into him, but it was difficult to restrain myself. Right in front of me, a boy was turning into faggot, and it was my dick that was doing the conversion. Jay was a good student, and it didn't take long before his lungs were just as full of crystal as his ass was with my cock. "Your turn," I said to Tucker. He smiled, and took the pipe from Tucker. As Tucker hit the pipe, I grabbed Jay's waist with one hand and wrapped my other hand around his mouth and nose. He started to struggle, but I held on tight. I pulled his head back, and rested my chin on his shoulder. "Listen, faggot," I whispered into his ear. He nodded. "You are here for men like me. Your mouth, to suck cock. Your ass, to take cock. Your lungs, filled with tina. Your little faggot dick, not my problem. I reached around and slapped his balls. I felt his ass tighten in pain. "Fuck yeah, faggot," I said. "That feels good. Fucking good. You wanna do that again?" He shook his head back and forth, but it was pointless. "Doesn't matter what you want. It's about what I want." I slapped his balls again, this time harder. His body jerked but it only served to impale him on my cock. "Fuck faggot. You want a real man's cock, don't you?" Jay nodded. There was no enthusiasm, nor any fear in his motions. The tina was clouding his mind, and I wasn't helping it with my hand over his mouth and nose. He was starting to shake a bit, but it was hard to tell if that was the crystal hitting him, or his body beginning to black out. Not that it mattered. His ass was tight and warm around my cock, and I could feel the other loads of semen squishing around inside of the boy. If I knew Aiden, by the end of the night, Jay was going to be dripping sperm. "You want my load, don't you?" I asked. Jay nodded again. It was weaker than even just a few seconds ago. He reached up and tried to pry my hand from his face. "Mmmlease?" he managed to get out, wasting a bit of precious air. "When it's time," I said. His body was now definitely shaking, and the clenching and relaxing of the muscles was not just limited to his legs and arms. His anus was one extended, exquisite muscle spasm. He was milking my load, and I was struggling not to erupt inside of him. "When it's time, you're gonna get it. Big, thick load of my sperm." My dick was throbbing, and it was all I could do to keep from cumming. But I wanted to prolong the pleasure. It wasn't time to seed his hole. Instead, I released my grip on Jay's mouth and toned down my intense pounding of his hole. I felt his desperate gasps for air, even as both he and Tucker both exhaled their thick clouds of crystal. I kept Only the head of my dick inside of him, waiting for the crystal rush to hit. "Not yet time for me, faggot. Gonna enjoy this hole a bit more," I said, slowly going in and out in short, careful strokes. I could do this all night. I would do this all night. All the things I couldn't do with women, with my wife, I could do to the hapless boys at Edward's party. Destroying a hot, tight asshole. Blowing giant clouds of crystal meth. Choking a boy until he passed out. Breeding a man with my seed. The night was young, and I had hardly begun. The slut took a deep breath in, and I felt his hole relax. The hit of crystal was finally taking effect. It began at the center of his body, his young, nearly virgin asshole, and radiated out across his wiry frame. But I didn't care about his body. It was his ass that I was focused on. I slammed my shaft into him. He gasped, exhaled, and whimpered. Deep in his guts, my dick trembled and some pre-cum leaked out. "Hand me that pipe," I told Tucker. It was going to be a fucking good night and it was time for another hit. The young man handed me the pipe. I held it up. Leo had packed it well, and there was still a nice pool of tina at the base of the bowl. I took the torch and began to melt it, carefully rotating the pipe to keep the drugs from burning. It didn't take long for the drugs to melt and the bowl to fill. I inhaled the thick clouds, letting them fill my body. The drugs would push me to a state of mind few had ever seen, one where the darkness took over, and I existed in a perfect balance between happiness and regret, pleasure and anger, love and hate. "That's a big one," Tucker said admiringly, as I continued to suck on the glass pipe. Jay craned his head back, trying to watch, but Tucker did his best to hold it in place. "He's doing it for you," he whispered to Jay. "I know," Jay said. My dick quivered again, and another drip of pre-cum landed in the boy's hole. I was going to have to do another hit after this. I only knew one way to enjoy this boy's hole, and it was full-out, balls-to-the-walls, no-holds-barred manfucking. If I was to do it properly, I needed to be totally fucked up. I held the hit for three deep strokes into Jay. It felt like hours, as each fat, hard inch plunged into the boy's hole. I could feel the cum he had already collected slip past my cockhead, lubricating it on its mission deep into the boy's body. My own cock was now dripping a steady stream of pre-cum into the boy, further marking him as the playthings of a true alpha. "Do another one," Tucker said. "Jay deserves it. You deserve it." I exhaled. "I think I will," I said. I had already decided. But with Tucker's urgings, the majesty and mystery of Jay's hole, and the perfection of my erection, I decided to make it a hit for the ages. I exhaled a few more times as I re-heated the bowl. I needed to make sure my lungs were as empty as possible. When the bowl began to smoke, I stuck it back in my mouth, and inhaled slowly. I wanted it to be only drugs, no oxygen. I wanted my brain to stop and my dick to take over my actions. As the air powered my body, the tina powered my dick. As I inhaled, my hips went on auto-pilot and started to thrust against Jay's ass. It forced my cock into his body, causing both of us to gasp, me in pleasure, the boy in surprise. I didn't care. I was in the zone, smoking some amazing crystal, and fucking tight, fresh hole. This was the life. The only care for me was pleasure, and I had all I could handle. It took a while, but my lungs filled with the thick cloud. Just before, I let the torch go out, and I sucked down the last few bits of cloud before the bowl also cooled. This time, I held the hit for six hits. It was twice as long for a hit that felt twice as good. It was enough to power me through the night and well in the next day. I just hoped that Edward and Aiden had found a few heavy-duty bottoms for me to enjoy next. Jay's gasps made it clear he wasn't used to the only kind of fuck I knew. "Take my cock, faggot," I said, slamming it into him a seventh time as I exhaled. The cloud engulfed the two bottoms. "How does it feel?" Tucker asked Jay, their two heads still lost in the clouds. "Like I'm being split in two," the other bottom responded. "That's how a fuck is supposed to feel," Tucker said. "Fucking hard as steel." Jay gasped as I pushed in a little deeper. But at the same time, he pressed his ass back against me. He was hungry. He had just discovered dick, and he had the hunger of man tasting happiness for the first time. "So fucking big, too." "But you're taking him," Tucker said. The cloud had cleared, and the two boys were holding on to each other, Tucker helping Jay take every forceful shove of my shaft. "You're taking every inch of him." "And he hasn't passed out yet," I said. "Unlike some boys." Tucker grimaced, remembering the last time we had played. He had begged me to stop, before he passed out. I stopped long enough to give him a booty bump. He woke up just as the drugs hit, and just as I slammed into him hard. I wondered if, in that drug-addled, sleep-high moment, if he thought he had woken up in heaven or hell. Another grunt from Jay ripped me back to the present. My balls were pressed against his ass and my dick was dripping. I was getting close. Almost closer than I wanted, because I wanted to leave a mark. In the morning, when Jay stumbled home, I wanted him aware of every millimeter of his ass. I wanted him to remember me as the one who really opened him up. "Feeling good?" Tucker asked me. He was holding Jay in his arms, the boy's head against his chest. I noticed the boy was still wearing his glasses. They gave him a slightly nerdish look, and I felt like the prototypical school yard bully. The feeling was pure power. There was no uncertainty if Jay was going to submit; he had already done it. There was no uncertainty if I was going to dominate; my dick was already in his ass. "Fuck yeah. Helping take this faggot's cherry." "He's gonna feel it in the morning." "That's what a faggot is for," I said, slamming my thick black dick into the young man's tight hole. The boy was sweating, but whether from the drugs or the fuck, I neither could tell nor cared to know. "To take a man's cock. And to take his cum." "That's the spirit," a new voice said. I turned, and Aiden had come up. He was standing, watching our little tableau. "That's what I hope from Jay. An eager cumwhore." Aiden ran his hand over Jay's back, his path traced out in the sweat on the boy's back. He ran his hand through the boy's curly brown hair. "How's my boy? Doing good, right?" Jay shook his head side to side. "No?" Aiden asked. "What's up?" "Head's spinning," Jay managed to stammer out. "Ass hurts." It wasn't clear he could keep a thought any longer than those four words. "And you?" Aiden asked, turning to me. "How's that hole?" "A little tight at first." "But now?" "Just right." "Good to hear. And he's been good?" "Fucking amazing. Didn't pass out like Tucker. Or, rather, hasn't passed out yet," I said. I smiled at Tucker. His expression was grim. He already knew that he was the backup plan. Although, with the way my cock was feeling, Jay was merely the appetizer before Tucker's hole turned into my main course. "Well, you can't have everything." "Nah. But it's all good." "Yeah. You gonna cum in his hole?" Aiden asked me. "Hell yeah," I said. I slammed my dick into him. Aiden's question had made me acutely aware of the tingle at the tip of my cock. It was my precum flowing into the boy. It was my dick throbbing in anticipation of release. It was me making sure Jay knew he was my bottom. "Fucking getting close," I grunted. "That's what I want to hear," Aiden said. "Let the animal take over." Unfortunately for Jay, the animal had already taken over. I was just watching, letting the primeval part of my brain do the basest act of fucking. "Give him your load." "You're going to get it," Tucker said. "Lucky," he mouthed. He had still not had the pleasure of my cum, since the last time, his punishment for passing out was that he didn't get the pleasure of my orgasm. I had jerked off, as he gingerly touched his hole while feverishly jerking his own dick. He had begged me for my load, but I made him watch as I ate it myself. "I know," Jay said, barely aware of the drama he was starting. "You want it?" Tucker asked Jay. He was talking to Jay, but he was staring right at me. The expression was very familiar. It was a look of hunger and need. He was distraught, that it was Jay who was getting fucked. He needed a dick slamming into his hole and filling him with cum. "Yeah," Jay said. It was only a single word, but he was just like Tucker. Released by the crystal he had done, his hunger for cock and cum had overwhelmed him, and he had no ability to hide his wanton desire. "Let Damon know it," Tucker said. "Beg him for it." If I didn't know how Tucker had begged for dick, I could almost hear a dominant top. "I fucking love that," I said. "Beg for my load, faggot." "Please, you gotta give it to me. Cum in me. Fucking give it to me." Aiden wrapped his arm around me. It was a little too familiar, but I couldn't bring myself to do anything about it. My cock was doing all of my thinking, and Aiden's touch only pushed me closer to the edge. "Cum in him," he whispered into my ear. "Cum in his ass." I remembered the first time another man had said that to me. I remembered how I was balls-deep in him. I remembered how it felt to be inside of him raw, to be dripping my pre-cum into him. Unlike so many women, he didn't tell me to pull out. "Oh fuck," I grunted, and slammed my cock into Jay. "Oh yeah," Aiden said. He had seen me cum enough times to know my tells. "Fucking load him up." "OH FUCK," I grunted again. My balls were tight against my body, and the barest move of my dick sent waves of pleasure up and down my shaft. "OH HELL YEAH." I didn't care that I was surrounded by many other men. My goal here was to get off, and I was going to get off the way I wanted. "GOD DAMN," I grunted, as my dick throbbed and pulsed. "TAKE IT," I roared, the spurt of cum shooting down the length of my shaft and directly into Jay's helpless ass. Before I could even get over the pleasure of the first spurt, another jet of white-hot semen inoculated the boy's hole. "FUCKING TAKE IT," I grunted. "Give it to him," Aiden said. I could barely understand the words, but I knew exactly what he was telling me to do. I pulled out my dick a few inches, then pressed it back in. Jay's hole was noticeably better lubricated from my sperm. That only served to milk out two more volleys of seed, further loading up the young man's tight hole. "Make his first night taking dick a night for him to remember." "Oh fuck yeah," I said. "Fucking filling him up with cum." My hips were still pushing in and out, even as my dick became incredibly sensitive to each movement. "He came in you," Tucker said. He wanted a load. The jealousy was painful to hear. I couldn't stand still carefully enough. Each tiny bit of movement brought the most agonizing pleasure. Even though I had just cum, my balls were still swollen. I wanted to shoot again, and I knew that Tucker was going to be the perfect victim for the drug-fueled, depraved second fuck of the night.

6. Jay I was empty. Rod had pulled his cock out of me. I had barely kept it together when he had been fucking me, and I was learning that the alternative, not being fucked, was even worse. The only thing that made it bearable was that Rod had cum in me. In the heat and passion of getting fucked, I hadn't even noticed him cum. But as I took my first hesitant steps, I could feel his seed slosh within me. It felt good, to have a man like Rod fuck me. It felt even better to have his load inside of me. "I'm sure you can get more," Rod said. "You've got a great ass." "Thanks," I said, a bit embarrassed. I had played around a bit with girls, but somehow, it had never felt quite right. But this, now, this was totally different. It felt natural to have another man's cock in my ass. It felt right. Now that Rod had pulled out of me, I was empty. All I could think about was how to get him back inside of me. It didn't even have to be Rod. I wanted a dick in my hole. Any dick. "It felt good. Really good." "I'm sure it did," Rod said. "You want to join the party?" He motioned to the balcony door. The lights in the hotel room were dim now, but I could make out some of the men inside. There seemed to be more men, some on the couches, some still standing. All of them were wearing less clothes than before. "Sure," I said. I went to where my clothes were piled up. "Don't worry about those," Rod said. "You won't need them. Besides, you look better naked." I blushed, and followed Rod to the door. He hadn't bothered with clothes either. There was an economy of motion with him; no motion was superfluous. It had been the same when he had been fucking me. Every movement had been done with his pleasure in mind; now, in walking, every movement was done with intention. He paused for a moment at the door. "Ready?" he asked. "Of course." Even this close, it was still hard to make out exactly what was happening in the hotel room. Men were standing as to obscure what seemed like important activities going on in the room. "Should I not be?" "No," Rod said. He reached out and grabbed my ass. "You're more than prepared for this." He opened the door. There was a slight rush of air out, and I could feel the warmth against my skin. I inhaled; it was the scent of sweat and masculinity and a new scent, one that I immediately knew as sex and passion. It was like a locker room, crossed with an orgy. My dick responded immediately. "Welcome back," a man said. It took me a moment to recognize him as Aiden. "You're just in time." My head was still swimming in the electrifying scent of the room. I took a moment to survey the room. The lights were dim, and there was a haze in the room. I could smell a bit of weed, but not enough to account for the cloudiness. It made me think of an opium den; there was something dark occurring here, but I didn't know what it was. "Would hate to be late for this party," Rod said. Aiden had crossed over and was standing by me. He took my arm, and guided me deeper into the room. "I want you to meet someone," Aiden said, as he propelled me into the dark room. "He's been working for me for a while now. I think the two of you would get along well." Even if I didn't know where I was going in the dim room, Aiden did. We headed towards one of the far corners of the room. As we walked, looked around. On one of the couches, two of the men I had seen earlier were now naked, their legs spread wide. Two of the younger men were kneeling, their lips wrapped around the older men's cocks, giving them head. As we passed, one of the older men flicked a lighter. The intense blue flame barely illuminated his face as he heated up a glass bowl. But before I could see what happened next, Aiden gently pushed me along. "You'll find out soon enough," he said, in reference to the glass pipe I had seen. It was a little lighter in the corner than the rest of the room. There was a candle sitting on a table there, and it provided enough light to see the two men standing around it. One was a younger man, maybe just a bit older than me, and right about my height. He was wearing little more than underwear and a pair of sneakers. The other was a hulking black man. He was maybe only an inch taller, but he was far more muscular, and between the muscle and a pair of black leather boots, he seemed far bigger. He had on a pair of boxers. "This is Tucker," Aiden said, indicating the smaller white boy. "And this is Jay." "Nice to meet you, Jay," Tucker said. "And this is Damon." "Hey," Damon grunted. "Tucker, Jay is new here. He's just had a chance to get acquainted with Rod." "Heh," Damon snorted. "Acquainted." He knew exactly what Rod and I had done on the patio, and didn't care for Aiden's polite euphemism for our man-on-man fucking. "Maybe you can help him get to know Tina, and then see where she takes you?" "Hell yeah," Damon grunted again. It was hard not to stare at his perfect, dark body. There was hardly an ounce of body fat on him, and every muscle was visible under his taut skin. I glanced down quickly, but it was hard to tell what he was packing with the loose boxer briefs. I remembered my middle school days, where the rumor among the boys had been how hung the black boys at the school across town had been. I wondered if Damon would re-enforce the stereotype. "I can do that," Tucker said. He reached out and ran a hand down my back, coming to rest on one of my ass cheeks. He paused, just enough to remind me who was in control here. "It's gonna be fun," he continued. "Jay is gonna love it so much." I nodded in agreement. "Right on. I'll be back in a bit. Time for me to find some of my own trouble," Aiden said, and soon disappeared into the stand of men in the center of the room. It might have been my imagination, but more of them seemed naked than just a few seconds ago. I tried hard not to stare, but the thoughts of the hard cocks just a glance away were hard to resist. "This is your first time here?" Tucker asked me. I nodded, not wanting to admit just how naive I was. "That's cool. First time for everything. You partied before?" "Party?" I asked. It seemed like a strange to ask. "You know, Tina." He held up a glass pipe with a round bowl at one end. It was filled with small white crystals. It was the same kind of pipe I had seen the guy heat up earlier. "You'll love it," Tucker continued. He held a torch under the bowl; the crystals quickly melted and the bowl filled with a white vapor. "Just inhale, like you would a cigarette or a joint." He demonstrated it, draining the bowl several times. "Shotgun it," Damon said. He moved behind me, pressing his body against mine. His skin was hot, with just enough sweat for it to slide against me. Chills ran down my spine, directly to my dick. "Yeah," Tucker said. He pressed his lips against mine. "Inhale," Damon whispered into my ear. I did and as I did, Tucker exhaled his hit into my lungs. "Hold it," he said. Tucker made sure that I couldn't exhale by keeping his lips against mine. Tucker's tongue probed my mouth, as the shotgun turned into a long kiss. "Hold it," Damon continued. His dick was growing, pressing against my ass, and it felt massive. It was a rush of sensations, as I tried to hold my breath, even as I was desperate to exhale. "Feel it?" Damon asked. I nodded. "Good. Exhale." Tucker released his lips, and I exhaled. It was a thick white cloud that momentarily obscured his face. As I exhaled, I really started to feel it. It was a feeling of freedom and possibility, of happiness and potential. Barriers that I had erected for myself came down, and anything was possible. "Oh fuck," I moaned, and pressed back against Damon. I wanted to feel his dick, regardless of how big it was. I wanted his dick inside me, filling me up, and challenging the limits of my anatomy. "Yeah, you're feeling it," Damon said. "Another one?" I nodded. "Of course he wants more," Tucker said. "It's your turn now." He put the pipe in my mouth. "Let's do this one right," Damon said, and pushed down his boxers. I felt his dick nestle in my ass crack. It was a perfect home for it. "Make it a big one." I was scared of what I was getting myself into. Whatever the drug was in that pipe, it was powerful and quick-acting. I felt the warmth from it fill my entire body and infiltrate my brain. Even as I worried about the effects of the drug, my ass rubbed up against Damon's thick black cock, to get him as stiff as possible. I exhaled the last of the previous hit, to get my lungs as empty as possible for the next one. "Of course it's going to be a big one," Tucker said. "Just wait for the bowl to fill, then inhale slowly. He held the torch under the bowl. This close, it was easy to see the bowl fill with a thick white cloud. I waited, then Tucker nodded. I began to slowly inhale. I expected the smoke to be harsher, more like weed or cigarette smoke. But it was smooth and easy. "Not so fast. Give it time. Savor it," Tucker said. "Lots of time to have fun tonight," Damon said. He wrapped an arm around me, holding me tight. "I want you flying tonight." I kept my eye on the bowl, draining it on a regular basis. Finally, my lungs were full, and I nodded that I was satisfied. "Just a little more," Damon said. I thought my lungs were going to burst, but I did what Damon told me, inhaling two more gulps of the cloud. "Fucking hot," Tucker said. He took the pipe from my mouth and stuck it in his, sucking down on the thick clouds. "Now, hold it," Damon said. One arm was still wrapped around me, holding me. With his other, he put his hand over my mouth, and pinched my nose closed. "Hold it until I tell you." At first, it felt almost safe, to be under the control of a strong black man. But it didn't take long for my body to demand, selfishly, the right to breathe. I tried, but found such a simple thing was being denied. "You can breathe when I want you to," Damon said. "Come on," Tucker said. He exhaled his cloud in my face, taunting me with his ability to breath at his pleasure. "He's new at this." "I know," Damon said. "That's why I'm doing this." I was starting to get frantic, trying to breath, and was squirming in an effort to escape. But Damon's arm held me tight and his hand was unyielding. He leaned in and whispered to me. "Just think what it's going to be like when my cock is inside you." I shivered. His dick was now a steel shaft against my ass. It was hard to tell if he was leaking pre-cum, or if Rod's cum was starting to leak out of me. Either way, his dick was sliding up and down, pressing against my hole, and demanding entrance. The night had suddenly taken a brutally serious turn. Even worse, whatever I was smoking was keeping me from being scared. The shiver was less from fear and more from hungry anticipation. I was struggling, helplessly, for breath, and my cock was throbbing. "Fuck, this is going to be good," Damon whispered, as he finally released his grip on my face. I exhaled, and gasped for breath. "You want another hit?" Tucker asked me. I hadn't yet caught my breath but I wasn't in control of my body any longer. "Yeah," I said, my mouth answering for me. "I do." "Damn boy," Damon said. "You're a natural at this. We're gonna have to play a lot more." He reached down and stroked my dick. I thought I was going to explode as the sensations ricocheted across my body. "Give him what he needs." We repeated the process, every step of it. Tucker inserted the pipe into my mouth and held the torch. I inhaled big gulps of the white cloud, and then Damon put his hand back over my mouth and nose. Even though I knew it was coming and how it would feel, it was still impossible for me to suppress my instincts to fight back against Damon's actions. "Just relax," Damon said. "We're only just beginning." I tried my best, but whatever was in the pipe was making it hard for me to concentrate. My mind was constantly flitting in all sorts of directions, thinking about my throbbing cock, before turning to my hungry, needy hole, and then skittering off back to my dick. The only constant was Damon's strong hand cupped over my mouth and nose, the band around his ring finger pressed against my lip. As black spots started to cloud my vision, Damon relented. "My turn," he said to Tucker, and released his hold on me. I gasped for breath, as Damon took the pipe and torch from Tucker. He made no effort to move away from me; the flame was close enough that I could feel the heat against my cheek, and could hear him inhale the thick drug. "Big clouds, huh," Tucker said. Damon just nodded, focused on the pipe. He handed the pipe back to Tucker; the young man stuck the still-warm stem in his mouth and inhaled as he re-lit the torch. Damon held his hit for a long time before grabbing my jaw, twisting my head around, and exhaling his hit into my mouth. "Hold it, boy," he said. This time, at least, he let me decide when I had had too much. Still, I tried to hold it as long as I could, before exhaling. Damon was still pressed up against me, his dick still nestled in my crack. I found myself involuntarily grinding my ass against him, eager for him to put his penis into my ass. "Yeah, boy, I know you want it now." His body was warm against me, and for a brief moment, I was at peace. But then, his dick twitched and grew, and my hunger for cock returned. "But first, I think you need another chance to suck on the glass pipe As soon as he spoke, Tucker stuck the pipe back in my mouth and held the torch under it. It was still warm, and it didn't take long before it was smoking again. "Make it a big one," Damon said. He continued, somewhat ominously, "You're going to need it." "He can take it," Tucker said. Nevertheless, I did as I was told, and inhaled deeply from the pipe. I was starting to get the hang of it, and this time, I could feel the thick clouds collecting in my lungs. "Fuck, look at him. He's a fucking natural." "I know," Damon said. "You should feel how his hole is trying to gobble up my dick. He's a hungry little faggot." I tensed at the word "Faggot." It had always been the worst of the schoolyard taunts. I had managed to escape it for so long. But now, it was hardly calling me a name. I had kissed another man. I had let him fuck me up the ass. Now, barely ten minutes later, I was all but begging a totally different man to fuck me. It was hard to deny that "faggot" now fit me. He rubbed his cheek against my neck and ear. The stubble on his face was rough, like sandpaper. It was not the soft skin of a woman, but the bristly whiskers of a man, and despite how much had grown in on his cheeks, I knew if I asked, he would say he had shaven that morning. It reminded me how I just barely had scruff on my face, despite not shaving for nearly four weeks now. He was more of a man that I would ever be, and it was an honor to be his faggot. "Big hit for me, faggot boy," Damon said, as I started to slow down on the pipe. "Get your head up in the clouds." I nodded. I wanted to make him happy, and if that entailed sucking down more of this drug, I was more than willing to do it. Even though I thought I had filled my lungs full, I drained the bowl a few more times. "That's good, Damon said, just as my lungs reached their ultimate capacity. "This is going to be really good." "His first time is going to be one to remember," Tucker said. He took the pipe out of my mouth, and Damon immediately put his hand back over my mouth and nose. This time, his ring pressed against my lips. As the hit of the drugs started to wrap its influence around my brain, my mind once more jumped to wild thoughts and conclusions. I wondered if he was married, and if he was married, whether it was to a man or a woman. Damon must have been reading my mind. "Yeah," he said. "Feel that against your lips?" I nodded. "Yeah, that's my wedding ring. But you know why I come here?" I shook my head. I barely knew what "here" was. much less why these men had come together. "Love my wife. She's amazing. But you know, she isn't into all the things I like." I nodded; it was hard to follow the exact words, the air I needed to think had been displaced by the drugs. "And boys like you, well, boys like you let me do anything I fucking want." "Umpph," I managed to grunt, but only the slightest but of the cloud escaped. I had no prayer of getting more air, and I felt my strength gently sap away. Nevertheless, I wasted valuable energy rubbing my ass up against his cock. Damon's dick was thick and hard, warm with the blood flowing through it. I wanted to feel it inside me. I wanted to milk it dry, and get his load. "Oh yeah," Tucker said. He had just done his own hit, and his words were formed from clouds. "Stop teasing him and fuck him." "Ready for it?" Damon asked. He nodded my head up and down for me. "I knew you were." Tucker was fading out of my vision as I struggled against his grip. I didn't know what I wanted: to give in to the faggot that had been hiding deep inside me all those years? or to escape, and pretend that I hadn't seen who I really was. It was good that Damon was making these decisions for me. He could give me what I needed. "Of course he is," Tucker said. A part of me knew he was standing right in front of me, but I couldn't see him. I couldn't see anything beyond a few blurs, as the drugs took over. Damon's cockhead was now pressed against my hole. "Give it to him." Damon pressed into me. His hand over my mouth was perfect for the leverage he needed to press his manhood into my hole. I was glad that Rod had fucked me earlier; if Rod was just merely large, Damon's shaft was massive; at least an inch thicker around, and several inches longer. Damon didn't give me any chance to adjust, and just pressed himself all the way into me. "Oh fuck, faggot," Damon grunted. "That's the raw hole I need. Fuck you good, and give you my babies." I was impaled on his cock. He slammed in and out of me, each stroke reminding me how I was little more than a fuck-toy for the black man. He still had his hand over my mouth, and it was getting far harder to concentrate. I had already closed my eyes; looking just felt too hard. All that I focused on was Damon's dick, forcing its way into me. "Oh damn! You've got a load up there. Fucking nasty boy." "You better let the boy breathe," Tucker said. In the drug-filled haze, I wondered what would happen if Damon refused. Consciousness was already draining away from me and I didn't know how long I would be able to hold out. But, Damon had one small mercy, and released his grip on my nose. I exhaled as quickly as I could, the thick cloud enveloping my head. I quickly inhaled, terrified that Damon would take away the small privilege of breath away from me again. "Awww. But it feels so good. The way the faggot relaxes his hole. No resistance. Just pleasure." "For you," Tucker said. "What?" Damon sneered. "You think I'm worried about the whore? That's what he's here for. For me to use." "You don't want to break him." "I dunno. You remember last time." Tucker winced. He was remembering something, something he didn't want to remember. I wondered what that memory was. "I do. And I told you can't do it again." "To you," Damon said. His cock was sliding, long, agonizing strokes in and out of me. I was glad that Rod had cum in me; the lubrication from the cum was desperately needed. "I didn't say anything about our tweaker whore here." With that, he slapped my ass. It stung; the last time I had been spanked was when I was six, over twelve years ago. But this time, it wasn't about being a bad boy. It was about being a good boy. About making Damon feel good. Making him feel like a man. Making him feel like he could do anything he wanted. I wanted him to feel good, because that was the way I was going to get his load. Tucker leaned in towards me. "I know that face," he said, as he pressed his lips against mine. His tongue pressed into my mouth. It was far too easy to respond to his kiss. I relaxed. Damon had the experience to know what was coming next, and pushed his steel shaft even further into my body. "You head is way in the clouds," Tucker said. "It's a dangerous place to be." "It's the only place for him," Damon said. "I want to see the two of you share another hit." "Of course." Tucker said. He produced the now-familiar glass pipe, but this time he stuck it in his mouth. It was my first chance to watch him up close, and I stared at the solid blue flame as it heated the bowl. It wasn't long before the thick white clouds started to form. Tucker took long slow hits from the pipe, never letting the bowl completely empty. "That's how a boy hits the pipe," Damon said. "Watch and learn." I didn't have to be told. I was mesmerized by the sight. I wanted to see Tucker get high, just like me. I wanted to know how far he would go and if what his limits were. As I stared, Damon pushed his dick deep in me. He was forcing Rod's cum deeper into me, where it could burrow into my body and become a permanent part of me. I could hardly resist such an idea, and pushed back against Damon. His dick only got deeper in me. "That's it," Damon said. "Your turn," Tucker said, as he finally pulled the pipe out of his mouth. The pipe was hot and still smoking. Thick tendrils of the white cloud sunk down, taking seeming minutes before they dissipated, like the contrails of a high-flying jetliner. He leaned in again, and pressed his lips against mine. I knew what to expect, and had already emptied my lungs. Tucker paused. He closed his eyes and savored the sensation of the drug flooding into his body and taking over. When he opened his eyes, I could tell it was no longer quite the same person as before. He was hungry; he needed something that he didn't have. I understood his desire. I had Damon's cock in my ass. It was enough to take the edge off, but knew what he was feeling. "That's the Tucker I want," Damon said, seeing the same need in the young man's face. Tucker leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. He exhaled and filled my lungs with the thick clouds. As he did, Damon pressed even more of his cock into my hole. "All the way in," he said. I gasped; this was more than just filling me up like Rod's cock. This was practically splitting me in two, and I struggled to get comfortable. Unfortunately, my struggles only meant I sucked more of the cloud out of Tucker's lungs. "It's OK," Damon said. "I know it's a big one. But don't worry. You're doing better than Tucker did the first time." Tucker suddenly froze at the memory. "Yeah," Damon said. "First time I fucked him, he passed out when I stuck it all in. Didn't you, Tucker-boy?" Tucker only nodded. He kept his mouth against mine, his tongue exploring my mouth, and prevented me from exhaling the hit. Damon pulled out, leaving just his fat cockhead in my hole. Tucker released his lip-lock on me at the same time, and involuntarily, I exhaled the hit. I shivered. I couldn't tell if it was from the drugs, from being suddenly empty of dick, or from fear of getting Damon's cock all the way back into me. "I'm sorry," Tucker said. "Your cock. It's big." "Oh, don't worry. I know it's big. It's OK. You just need more practice." Damon pushed his cock back into me. I gasped, but forced myself to take it. I didn't want to disappoint or demean Damon by rejecting his cock. He must have noticed, because he continued. "But Jay here, he's taking it like a faggot should." "Did you really pass out?" I asked. "Yeah," Tucker said. "And?" "And what?" Damon asked. "I continued fucking him. He's a faggot. That's what he's here for." Tucker nodded in silent agreement. "He did. When I came to, he was pounding my hole." He put the pipe in his mouth again. It was still smoking, but nevertheless he held the torch under it. As soon as the bowl started to smoke, he inhaled, pulling in deep gulps of the thick cloud. I wondered if he was trying to remember or trying to forget. However, I didn't have much of a chance to wonder. Damon had started slamming his dick in me, each stroke seemingly deeper and harder than the one before. I understood why Tucker had passed out; Damon was a machine, fucking me harder than I had even seen in porn. It didn't seem possible that I could withstand it and I silently prayed that he would let up. However, the prayers were for naught. After each stroke, he slammed back in, harder and more intense than before.

I'm in..... Daly City here

2. Jay "I'm sorry," I said again. "I mean. You're not gay. I'm not gay." I had kissed this guy that I barely knew. I was terrified of what I had done. "Uh," I stammered for a moment, trying to read Rod's face in the dark back seat of the car. "It's cool," Rod said. He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine again. This time I tried to relax. It was him initiating it, not me. And it didn't mean I was gay. We were just playing around. But it was hard to deny the way his kiss affected me. My dick was rock hard and leaking, and I wanted him to never stop kissing me. "Is that good?" he asked. I nodded, not able to think about anything other than this man who had started to make out with me. He reminded me a bit of some of my friend's dads. The ones I was a bit wary of, because I didn't want to know them too well. Like as well as I was starting to know Rod. Before I could say anything more, Rod continued. "You're not the first guy I've kissed. And besides, you're super cute." It was the permission I needed to exhale. It had felt like hours, but it was probably less than a minute. In that time, I had kissed another man and then he had kissed me back. It had felt amazing. In my drug-fueled state, I didn't care so much that it was with another man. I just liked the feeling of connection with another human. Rod leaned back in. "You're fun to kiss as well." Our lips met again. This time, Rod pushed his tongue into my mouth and explored, before pulling back away from me. "What do you want to do, Jay?" Rod asked. He was naturally stern, but there was a genuine concern that was still present. "You need to be honest. With me, but also yourself." "I know," I said. I understood what he was asking. I also knew what I wanted to say; what I wanted to do. "I wanna make out with you. I want to feel your hands on me." There was no reaction from Rod, but I was scared again. I decided the smartest thing was to be quiet, so I shut up. "Good answer," Rod said. He wrapped an arm around me, and pulled him close to him. Our bodies pressed together, almost as tightly as our lips were pressed against each other. But it felt totally natural, like this was how two men were supposed to get to know each other. "Very good answer indeed," he continued, as his tongue explored my mouth again. Mercifully trapped in my shorts, my dick was hard. I knew there was a wet spot where the head strained against the fabric of my underwear. I didn't want to have to explain that to either Aiden or Rod. "You want to join us?" Rod asked Aiden. I had forgotten about Aiden. Now I felt bad; I had been making out with Rod, not even knowing how Aiden would react. I had no idea if it was revulsion or interest. I broke off the kiss long enough to turn my head. Aiden was watching us, but the smile was of genuine pleasure. "Not yet. You guys are having fun, and I'm enjoying watching you. Besides, we're almost there." I looked out the window. All I knew was that we were in the busy Hollywood downtown area. Even at nearly two AM in the morning, the streets were still busy with cars, and people were standing around the doors to restaurants and clubs. I tried my best to sit back up, and adjust my shirt. Rod had run his hand over my chest and down my stomach, messing up my t-shirt. He had gotten down to my crotch, and rubbed my dick just enough to feel how hard I was. "You're like me," he said, but didn't elaborate. In the dim light of the back seat, it was hard to tell if he also had a boner. We pulled into a hotel entrance. I was glad I had taken care of my t-shirt, because quickly a doorman and a valet came up. "Mr. Aiden," the valet said. "Good to see you again." Aiden handed him the keys, and stuck the ticket carefully into his wallet. It was already fat with cash; I tried not to stare as I exited the car. Rod was right behind me. Rod was almost too close behind me. Two hours ago, his closeness would have bothered me a lot. But after the past few minutes, I wasn't sure what it meant to me. It felt good to have a man like him so close to me, and it made me feel simultaneously safe and excited at the same time. I just wondered what the valet thought, but then realized he probably didn't even notice his clients. "This way," Aiden said, leading us through the front doors and directly to the elevators. He knew his way around the hotel, as evidenced both by the familiarity the valet had with him and his own familiarity with the floor plan. It was not long before all three of us were in an elevator, heading upwards. As soon as the doors closed, Rod pushed me against the wall, and started to kiss me again. He pressed his body against me. He was a little shorter than me, maybe about four inches shorter. He craned his head, and I bent over. It felt a bit strange to tower over him, even as he was being the dominant one. But, at the same time, his small stature only accentuated the seeming power he had over me. As his tongue pressed into me, I felt the sensation of his dick pressing against my thigh. Like me, he was stiff and hard. He had said I wasn't the first man he had kissed. I realized that he had probably made out with a lot of men. And he had fucked many of them. It was a disquieting realization, and I hesitated for a moment. But then his tongue ran against my teeth, and the insistent pleasurable sensations overwhelmed my head again. "Glad to see you like each other," Aiden said. "Bet you want some time to explore, don't you?" "Oh yeah," Rod said. "There's a lot for us to explore." "As long as you leave some for all of us," Aiden said. I had hoped he would explain what he meant, but the elevator dinged and the door slid open. We were on the 12th floor, not the top, but a respectable height. "Almost there, men," Aiden said. To our left was only one suite, and that was the direction Aiden turned. "Ready?" Rod asked. "I think I am," I said. "Not sure what to expect." "Pleasure," Rod said. "Expect pleasure. And fun. Lots of fun." "I hope so," I said. I gave Rod one last peck on the forehead, then he and I grabbed hands and walked out of the elevator. There was a tall black man at the door to the suite. From behind the door, there was some laughing and deep house music." "Here for Edward's party," Aiden said. "Oh, don't worry. I know you, Aiden Wolfe. You're welcome any time." He opened the door. The music was louder, but not by much. Most of it was a thumping base, enough to shake my body. Inside, I saw a number of men, ranging from guys just about my age to older dad types. I didn't see any women, but that didn't seem like a problem. All of the men were uniformly in-shape and good looking. Aiden had already disappeared into the crowd, but Rod was pulling me deeper into the tangle of men. Once we were in the thick of it, he turned around. "What do you think of it?" he asked me. "It's," I searched for the right word. "Interesting. I'm not as hot as these guys though." He leaned in and kissed me again. No one seemed to notice. "No. You are," he said, as he broke off the kiss. "Let's go to the balcony. It's a bit quieter." He took my hand, and guided me through the crowd of men. The room wasn't as big as I first thought, and although I originally thought it was a crowd, by the time we got to the balcony doors, I realized it was only about thirty or forty people. "This way," he continued. Out on the patio, we were alone. We faced downtown with the city laid out before us. It was like a scene from a movie, and if I looked down, I could see the busy street, while further away, all I could see were the street lights. Above us, airplanes made lazy circles on final approach to the airport. "Looks like it's just the two of us out here," I said. "Yeah," Rod said. "How are you feeling?" "Good," I said. "Really good." "Still horny?" Rod asked. He ran his hand over my chest again, dropping down to my stomach, and then to my crotch. I knew he could feel my erection. There was no point in lying to him. "Yeah. I am," I said. "I need to get off or something." I had turned to face him. He was smiling, and chuckled a bit. "Or something," he continued. There was a knowing smile on his face. He leaned in, and craned his neck up to meet my lips again. I didn't resist his approach. I didn't want to resist it. Even in the dim light of the balcony, it was clear just how handsome he was. Not only that, he also had years of experience on me. He would know what to do. He broke off the kiss. "Tell me when to stop," he said. "Don't stop," I said, as he put his hands under my t-shirt again, running his fingers through the light fuzz on my chest, and easily finding my nipples. I gasped in pleasure. "Please," I continued. "Don't stop." "Of course not, my boy," Rod said. Carefully, he lifted my shirt up and over my head, taking care not to disturb my glasses. He made it seem so casual and easy that I almost didn't realize he was starting to work on my belt. Another kiss, and I was distracted long enough for him to unfasten it and release the button on my jeans. They fell around my ankles, leaving me wearing only a pair of white briefs, now far too small to contain my erect penis and heavy balls. "What about the others," I asked. Even though it was a warm night, I shivered slightly under Rod's touch. I had never been naked like this before, and felt utterly exposed. "Don't worry about them," Rod said. He ran his hand over the bulge in my underwear. I was afraid I was going to cum just from his slight touch. "Just enjoy yourself." "Ok," I said, the goosebumps still covering my body. It was hard to tell which emotion was stronger: fear or excitement. "You're shivering," Rod said. He pulled off his own shirt, and added it to the small pile accumulating next to us. "Here," he said, pulling me against his body. His skin was warm, almost hot, against my skin. There was little more muscle and bone on his body. It was a totally different feeling from the girls I had played with; they had been soft and delicate and Rod was hard and strong. "So warm," I said. Sex with Rod was going to be rough, intense, and demanding. "Fuck," I muttered, as I pressed my body up against him. Less than two hours ago, I was flirting with a hot Asian girl, not even thinking about men. Now I was contemplating sex with a man I barely knew, and my dick was hard at the suggestion. "Yeah?" Rod asked. He ran his hands over my bare back, working his way down. His target was my ass; it seemed like the most natural thing for him to do. "You doing ok?" "Yeah," I said. "Just," I stammered. "This is all new to me." "It's new to everyone once. Just relax. And enjoy it." He slipped his hand under the waistband, and grabbed one of my ass cheeks. "I'm enjoying it." He pressed his crotch against my leg, and I could feel his hardness. He ran his free hand back over my bulge. "I think you are enjoying it as well." I was silent for a second, wondering what to say. I finally went with the complete and difficult truth. "Yeah," I said, "I am enjoying it." Before I could say anything more, he leaned in and kissed me, pushing his tongue back into my mouth. I let myself relax and enjoy it. It wasn't hard; Rod was a skilled kisser. He knew when to be tender and slow, and when to be more forceful and take what he deserved. This was one of the latter, as he pushed my tongue out of the way and explored my mouth. "I know. Not to first boy I've broken in." I was momentarily grateful for Rod's experience. He knew what to do, how to make it feel good for both of us. It was going to be hard to refuse him anything. I was feeling warm and tingly from his touch, feeling generous with my body and wanting to use it to please him. It was an unfamiliar sensation, but strangely familiar. It was a part of myself I had never experienced, but still very much me. If I was honest with myself, everything I was doing that day was easy to understand. It was the part of me that took furtive glances in the locker room. It was the part of me that wanted to feel Rod's shaft in my hands. It was the part of me that wanted Rod inside me. But, I didn't want to understand. Understanding meant that I had to think about it and work through all the possible options. I didn't want to have to use my brain at all. My cock knew what it wanted, and it was far simpler to follow its simple, infinitely pleasurable commands than to create elaborate yet ultimately unsatisfactory self-delusions against the perpetual pleasures of getting off. I reached down and undid Rod's belt. I looked down. He was wearing elegant, trim-cut dark grey dress pants. The belt caught my eye. The leather was thick. Far thicker than necessary for thin and elegant dress belt. Rod smiled at me, as we both realized that the belt signified so much more than just fashion or function. I wondered how much it would hurt if Rod used it against me. It was a heavy leather suitable for a fat, heavy daddy's belt. It deserved to be used against a young man's butt than to be stuck in a boardroom. I wondered how much pain it could cause if I ever made Rod use it in disappointment and shame for my actions. At the time, I only knew its uses instinctively. It would be much later that I would learn all of the details of the leather community. I remembered a picture I had on my computer, a woman on her knees, naked except for a belt securing her wrists together. In the picture, a man stood above her, with his thick shaft buried deep in her throat. I paused, realizing that tonight, I was playing the role of that woman. "Go ahead, boy," Rod said. "Finish what you started." "Yes," I said. "I understand." "Good boy," Rod said. The way he said it along with the smile he had made my dick jump. I looked down long enough to figure out how to unthread the thick leather strap from the buckle. The pants hid some of his arousal, but it was impossible for it to hide all of it. "Yeah, it's a bit stiff," Rod continued as I fumbled with the belt. I wasn't sure if he meant the leather or his dick. It didn't matter. I managed to undo his belt, unfasten his pants, and push them down, over the bulge in his light blue underwear. My own dick ached in sympathy with his. Both of our tools needed release; release from the confines of our clothing, and release from the pent-up sexual energy. I looked back up at Rod. He was still smiling at me. It was clear where this was going, and it was exactly what he wanted. He made the next move. He reached down and pushed down his underwear. His dick sprung free, sticking out from his body. It was one of the largest cocks I had seen outside of porn. Of course, I had only seen a few other erect penises in real life, most years ago as I had explored with middle school friends. Even by porn standards, Rod's dick was admirable in length and girth. Where my erection arched upwards, his hung down slightly. "Go ahead," he said. "Touch it." I hesitated for a second, then decided to take a risk. I reached out for Rod's shaft. I thought it was going to feel weird, reaching for another man's dick. But one I had made the decision, it seemed like the most natural thing I could do. "That's it," Rod moaned as my fingertips brushed against the warm and supple flesh. Like my dick, the outer layer of skin was soft, and moved easily over the much harder core. Finally touching it made me realize that looks could be deceiving. Rod's endowment was more than just admirable; it was actually quite big. I had never felt short-changed in the dick department, but compared to him, I just did not measure up. It was both the length and girth of the shaft; his cock hung down slightly because it had to. The simple physics between gravity and the flesh and blood that made up his manhood required the slope. "Have you ever touched another man's dick?" I nodded. I had, but it was so many years ago, and I was so young. "Yeah." I said. "In middle school. My friend Jack." "Did you just touch it?" I shook my head. "No," I said. "What else did you boys do?" "I," I started. "I. I sucked his dick as well." "Nice. So, you're an experienced cocksucker?" "Well. It was only once." "Only once?" Rod asked. I had only just met Rod. We had known each other for less than an hour, and he was pulling out some of my deepest memories. I hadn't told anyone what had happened that night. How we had explored each other’s bodies. How I had sucked on Jack's dick. How he had cum in my mouth. How I had swallowed it, and how, afterwards, he had called me a disgusting cocksucker. "Yeah, he moved away a few weeks later." "That was convenient," Rod said. "But still. I bet that means you've still sucked more dick than your roommate." Rod had an arm wrapped around me. I felt safe in his arms, safe enough to be telling him all of these things and still be playing with his dick. Even with the noises of the party coming out from the open doors, and the lights of the city spread out in front of us, it felt like it was just the two of us, sharing an intimate moment. Yes, it was an intimate moment between two men, but it felt so natural to me. This moment would be our secret. I didn't have to worry about anyone finding out, and it would just be this one evening. I wouldn't have to do it ever again. "I suppose you are right," I said. "Damn, your dick is big." At its core, it was a simple tube, evolved over millions of years to inject his semen deep into his partner. But that masked the complexity that even the slightest touch revealed. There was the soft, warm skin over the hard shaft. The beauty of his cockhead, and the drip of pre-cum forming at the tip. I didn't want to stop fondling it and playing with it. His massive cock was our toy, something we could share and use it to bring pleasure to him. "You like it?" he asked me. I nodded in agreement, scared at what I might say if I opened my mouth. "Look at how hard you've gotten in," Rod continued. With his free hand, he held it up, showing it off to me. "Bigger than mine," I finally said. "Don't worry about that," Rod said. He pushed down my white underwear, finally freeing my dick from its fabric prison. He stroked the length of it, pushing me to a full, hard erection. "It's more than big enough for me." He leaned in and kissed me. "It's a beautiful cock." "Thanks," I said, blushing a bit. We were now almost completely naked, our pants around our ankles, and our erect dicks sticking out in front of us. If Rod's cock curved up and mine curved down, they would have touched. But instead, they just barely missed each other. "Come on," Rod said. "Let's get out of these clothes." He took off his shoes and socks and stepped out of his pants in a smooth, practiced motion. On the other hand, I felt like an ungainly teenager again, fumbling with my shoes, then my socks, and finally nearly falling over as I tried to dis-entangle myself from my pants and underwear. If Rod had any thoughts at my awkward movements, he mercifully did not say anything. "That's much better," Rod said, pulling me back against him. We were naked now, and our touch was no longer accidental contact between two men. This wasn't the fumbling exploration with Jack, but the expert guidance of an experienced man. I wanted more; it seemed impossible, but my dick got harder. Rod felt it grow. "Much better," he continued. "How are you doing?" "Good," I said. "Really good." "You really haven't done this before, have you?" he asked me. There was no judgment in his voice. "No," I said. "Never." "Just let me know if you want to stop." "I will. But don't stop. So far, it's all good." This time, I took the initiative. I leaned in and kissed him. He opened his mouth and let my tongue enter. If I were honest with myself, I had occasionally stared at guys in the locker room, or wondered what a particularly handsome man looked like naked. But I had always told myself I wasn't like that. I had always dated girls, and enjoyed that. But now there was this. It was just as fun as fooling around with a girl. It was almost more fun. Plus, it didn't feel weird at all. It felt perfectly natural to have another man's erect penis pressed against me, and to be making out with him. "Good," Rod said. "I'm having fun too." We continued to kiss, oblivious to everything around us. If anyone from the party looked out on the patio, they would have seen us, naked, making out. But somehow, it seemed unlikely that someone would look at us, and even more remote that they would care. Aiden hadn't been bothered at all when Rod and I made out in the car, and I didn't think any of the other men at the party would be concerned either. "You've never had sex with another man, have you?" "No," I said. "As I said. Just sucking cock." "Still a lot of fun," Rod said. "And there's a lot we can do without even having sex." "Oh?" I asked. There was a devilish grin on Rod's face. "You need to show me." "Of course," he said. He was enjoying this, showing me all these new ways to enjoy a man's body. "Have you ever been rimmed before?" "Rimmed?" I asked. "What's that?" "I guess I know the answer now. Grab the railing. Bend over. Don't worry. I know what I am doing." I turned around, grabbed the railing, and did as Rod told me. In front of me, I could see the lights of the city, spread out like a twinkling beacon of a brilliant future.

My stepdad thought I was needing to start taking dick when I was 8, teaching me to suck his and then other friends of his (in Alaska) who were straight, family fishermen. I got really good at that and then on my 10th birthday, was fucked and my stepdad made sure that continued for a long time. My mom was gone, she left my stepdad and asked me to stay with him, given we were such good friends. They divorced and my stepdad ended up with the judgement thanks to my mom not contesting my staying with stepdad. I wanted that to happen that way. Stepdad and I were enjoying a daily sexual life that was very exciting to me as a kid, no pants or underwear allowed in the house, I sleep naked on my stomach, I suck dick in truck at all times when we're driving somewhere, I make myself available to stepdad's friends at all times...and a few other things, all of which were ok by me.. I enjoyed doing all of it with my stepdad. I don't think a big part of my life is because that happened when I was young, the only thing that carried across was probably being submissive more than not and automatically doing what another guy wants rather than my thoughts on the subject.. other than that, my libido and all is just fine for having gone thru that when I was young..

yeah I was molested by neighbor. But I loved it

I love a cum filled hole...usually when I breed a boys bottom he begs for more... I can always deliver.

No. I like to pimp a hole out after I've seeded it, and I like it when guys do the same for me after filling me with a load.

I wish that would happen to me , they take pics and video everything even dogs raping me , search my car find out were I live and work blackmail me and make me come back for more no load refused ,

You cant rape the willing. Love tops who can't listen to "no."

Exactly how I've dreamed of being bred.