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I didn’t set out to take multiple loads, or even to get into an anon scene. I had been chatting with a handful of guys on BBRTS Sunday, my first day in SF, and nothing really panned out (a lot of “how long are you here for?”). Monday morning I got up, checked messages, and was getting ready to head out for some meetings. One of the guys hit me up again saying how horny he was, and that he was only 10 minutes away. I figured I’d see if he actually showed, so I gave him the hotel and room number. He was fascinated by my profile ass pic, and asked if I could be in that position when he arrived. I offered to be ass up on the bed, door ajar, and he could just come right in. He was clearly into that scene. I was chatting with a couple other guys while I waited to see if the first showed. Sure enough, 10 minutes later, I”m naked on all fours with my ass facing the door. The bolt lock makes for a nice block to keep the door ajar. I heard him come in and start undressing right away. His hands were immediately on my ass. I left some silicon lube on the bed beside me. He took it and I heard him pumping the bottle. I took a nice hit of poppers while he started lining his cock up with my hole. He slid in nice and even, letting my hole wrap around his long dick. “Fuuuuck that’s warm and tight,” he said. He started a nice rythm pumping my hole. He was totally turned on, and I was feeling turned on by his energy and the fact I couldn’t see him. His anon cock felt great, and he was plugging away inside me. He grabbed my hips and was pumping, picking up a little speed as he went. I heard his breathing change, and it sounded like he was holding his breath for a few seconds at a time. “Oh yeah,” he finally said, and I knew from the rythm change that he was unloading in me. He left a couple minutes later, patting my ass, me still on all fours, wanting to cling to the anonymity of the scene. A second guy was asking to come buy. A burly bear with shaved head and goatee. He asked if I had a load in me, and i said yes. That seemed to push him over the edge and he walked over from his office building up the street. Again I left the door ajar, and was on all fours when he arrived. I love the anticipation of hearing the guy strip, unseen behind me, and then feeling his hands on my ass. This guy started fingering my hole, using the lube from the first guy to ease his fingers inside. `He didn’t wait to slide his cock inside. He was more verbal than the first, asking how his dick felt in my cummyhole. We were both grunting as he pounded my ass, more forcefully than the first guy. He was clearly here to get off. His burly body slammed into my ass over and over, and he finally told me I was getting his load. He unleashed inside, patted my ass, and left a minute later. I was feeling slutty now, and totallly turned on by the anon loads. I went back on BBRTS and chatted a bit more. I decided to post an ad for the hour, and see what happened. Another guy wanted to come by, and I agreed. He was much faster at cumming than the other two, though for me it was really about having my hole used by a third stranger. After he left his load in me, I scrolled through a few messages. One was particularly mysterious and alluring. No face pic, and not much info. His message was simply that he wanted to breed my hole. He appeared to be fairly close. His cock pic was beautiful, and a bit intimidating. It was long and thick looking. He wanted totally anon cumdump scene. Sure, why not at this point? So I gave him the room number. He came in wordlessly. I heard him undo his belt, and push down his pants. He picked up the bottle of lube and I heard it pumping out the slick liquid. While I’d seen pics of the three guys earlier, this guy was a total enigma. He was simply a series of sounds behind me, and then I felt the head of his cock pushing up into my hole. Still, he said nothing. My hole stretched wide, and I yelped. He didn’t seem concerned. His cock pushed my hole open, and I gasped at the size inside me. Long deep strokes were pushing me deeper into the bed, and he was fucking for his own pleasure. I started grunting and groaning, totally turned on by this mysterious fucker. I felt my hole expand and contract around his raw cock as he slipped in and out,His hands moved to my shoulders, and he was pulling me backward and he thrust forward. I couldn’t wait for it. “Fuck yeah! Breed my ass!” Still he pounded me without a word, keeping his strokes long and deep, and all I could do was take it. Without warning he grunted, this thrusts going deep, holding there a moment, and then thrusting deep again. He pushed his weight on me, and thrust over and over again, each one lingering longer inside me. Finally he held himself inside, panting, growling lowly a bit. He stayed there for a couple minutes, and I was just relishing the size of his cock filling me. He slowly pulled out, and I felt my hole cling to his head before releasing it with a wired pop sound. I could feel some of his cum cripple down my balls, pulled out with his cock. His slapped his cock, still hard, against my ass a few times, and wiped it off against my ass cheeks and balls. He dressed wordlessly and then I heard the door close. I was spent after that last fuck. I rolled onto my back and stoked myself slowly, relishing the feeling of the pounding I’d just taken, and thinking about the 4 loads from total strangers that were filling my ass. It’s inspired me to head out and be slutty at one of the sex clubs. Let me know if you enjoyed hearing about my cumdump morning by leaving a message or clicking the blue heart below.

Part 49 - Wolves in the Sheep Pen “Joe, Paul asked for your number. I hope you don’t mind me giving it to him” Mark said as he walked into the apartment after a run. “No problem. Do you know why?” Joe responded. “No clue. I was too in the zone while I was jogging to do much more than type it out, sorry” Mark replied. Joe didn’t have to wait much longer to find out when his phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number. “Hey Joe. Paul here. u free tonight? want to earn a little $? maybe ur bf too?” said the message. Joe showed the message to Kyle and then whispered to him “What do you think?” Kyle grinned and whispered back “It could be interesting.” “Mark, do you have anything planned tonight?” Joe yelled into Mark and Eric’s bathroom while Mark was showering. “No, I thought we’d just chill and buzz. Why?” Mark yelled back. “May have a gig from Paul, but I didn’t want to step on your plans” Joe replied. Mark laughed a bit and said “Go if you want to. We’ll still be here when you’re done.” Joe replied to Paul’s message and said “mmm, maybe. lets talk.” The phone soon rang and Joe answered “Hey Paul. How’s it going?” They chatted back and forth with Kyle trying to listen in but only getting bits and pieces of the conversation. “OK, cool. See you at 8 then. Ciao” Joe said as he hung up the phone. “So, here’s the deal” he told Kyle. “It’s a kind of roulette party. Paul is in charge of getting the tops. Its mixed neg and poz tops - 9 neg, 3 poz for this party. All the bottoms are neg. They choose the top based on their pic and basic stats, so we have to send him a picture and our age, height, weight. We just can’t show our biohazards or indicate we’re poz or neg. We fuck, we breed, we’re done. We get $300 each. I told him we’re in. If you don’t want to go, I’ll call him back right away.” “Fuck, that sounds hot. So the guys know they could get pozzed?” Kyle asked. “Yeah. They don’t know the odds, just that at least one of the tops is poz. Paul has been the lone poz top for the last few months, but he thought for the last party of the year he should jack the odds up” Joe replied. They went into the spare bedroom and pulled their shirts off. Joe took a few pics of Kyle, including one of him completely naked except for his hands over his tattoo and cock, and then handed the phone to Kyle. Kyle snapped some of Joe who then Joe sent the pics and their stats to Paul and let him decide which picture to use. Joe and Kyle lounged around the pool the rest of the afternoon and then went back to the apartment. Eric was sucking on Mark’s cock out on the balcony. The trees obscured most of it but there were a few angles where they could still be visible. Joe peeled his swimsuit off and started to stroke himself. Mark motioned for Joe to come closer. When Joe was out on the balcony, Eric stood up and Mark pushed Joe to the railing. "Lean on the railing and spread em" Mark said. "But..." Joe started to say and was shut down by Mark. He looked over the railing and felt someone spread his ass and spit on his hole. Seconds later, Eric shoved his dripping cock into Joe's pussy. Joe started to scream from the pain, but then realized where he was and held it inside. Eric started to pound in, with full strokes and did that about a dozen times and pulled out. Mark thrust his cock into Joe's now open hole and took his dozen hard strokes before pulling out. Eric went back in and they continued swapping back and forth until Eric shoved in hard and grunted as his poisonous load filled Joe's cunt. "Fuck yeah" said Mark as his cock dove into Joe's now sloppy hole. He hammered his brother's ass until he too was breeding Joe. Mark pulled out and slapped Joe on the ass. "That's what you get for abandoning us for the evening" Mark said. Joe and Kyle showered and dressed and waited for Paul to arrive. “You two have fun. I’ll have a big bowl packed and ready when you get back” Mark said. “Shit, I think I need that bowl now” said Kyle, visibly nervous. “Is this your first paying sex job?” asked Eric and Kyle nodded yes. “Forget that you’re getting paid for it. Its just another fuck. Paul said its mostly rich college guys. They have to pay $200 to get in, so they must be pretty horny to spend that kind of money to get fucked. Here, take a dick pill. It should take care of any, uh… performance anxiety” Joe said as he handed Kyle a blue pill. Kyle chugged half a bottle of water with the pill just as there was a knock at the door. Joe opened it and there stood Paul with a huge grin on his face. He walked in and said hi to Mark and Eric and said “Ready to knock some boys up?” Joe chuckled and said “I always am!” Paul drove Joe and Kyle over to a warehouse area and parked the car in a loading dock. “Since I organize all the setup, I have to get here early, I hope you don’t mind waiting around a bit until the party really starts” Paul said. “Not at all” Kyle replied. The guys watched the DJ unpack his rig and connect to the speakers, the caterers set up a table of hors d’oeuvres, a bartender tapped a keg of beer and set up glasses, bottled water and a few canisters for a pop dispenser. Another person set up a table by the door with a clipboard of names and 2 stacks of wristbands. A few garbage cans were set up and a few people were setting up partitions to make twenty fuck cubes and another communal area for group sex. Paul saw the amazed look on Joe’s face and said “The best thing about this area is its really easy to pick up these office cubes cheap. So many start-ups fail and most new ones don’t want to buy the used stuff since they think its jinxed.” In only 30 minutes, everything was in place and the party was ready to start. The DJ cranked up the music and the lights got dimmed. Paul came up with three cups of beer and continued “The guy that runs this party does a bunch of parties in this space - raves, orgies, blackout parties, even a cool halloween party and haunted house. Tonight, theres a social hour first and when you hear the first bell, all the tops will congregate near the fuck den in numeric order. At the second bell, the bottoms will line up out here in order. One by one, the bottoms will go and meet up with the top they selected and find a cube or they can choose to fuck in the open area. If the top didn’t show, then we have a few spares. Lets just hope we don’t have more than three no-shows. The bottoms randomly got a number to pick and two hours before the party, they log in and choose their top. Usually everyone is online at 7pm sharp. You guys are new faces, so you went first. I also added that you were visiting, so you were here one time only.” “Wow, that is really organized. Hope I get a hottie” Joe said. Paul chuckled “It doesn’t matter, you’re just here to fuck and breed. If you want, you can go a second time. Oh, and you have to be clothed when out of the play area. Shirts off is ok, but no underwear. We should go over and get our wristbands.” The three walked up to the table and there was a thin black guy standing there making sure everything was ready. “Hey Crystal, can we get our bands?” Paul said. “Sure thing, hun” Crystal said with a femme voice and clipped a white band on Paul’s wrist with a number 4 on it. “And you are…?” Crystal asked. “We have J2 and K here” Paul interrupted. “We only use first initials and a number if we have duplicates here. No need to let too much info get out. Oh, hehe, I forgot to introduce you guys. This is Crystal, the sexiest drag queen around.” “Nice to meet you two. I hope you have fun tonite. It should be positively amazing!” Crystal said. As they walked away, Kyle said “I wouldn’t mind tapping that ass.” “Already did, many times” said Paul with a smile. The DJ sounded a bell and Paul walked over and opened the door. There was a line already there and they slowly filed in, giving their code name. Joe and Kyle wandered back towards the social area and grabbed a couple appetizers and sipped on their beers while the area filled up with guys. They looked around and saw a few guys with white bands like they had and the rest had blue bands. Joe looked to see who had a number 2 that matched his number, but it was fruitless since the angles and lighting made it impossible. “What number do you have?” Joe asked Kyle. “I got number 1. Not sure what that means though, but I’ll be harassing you about it for a while” Kyle said jokingly. They looked around and talked about the guys that were milling about. It was somewhat diverse crowd. Some white frat boys were there along with just about every ethnic group you could think of. Most of the guys seemed to be in their early twenties, a few were a bit older, a couple in their thirties and one guy looked to be in his mid 40’s. They noticed a lot of guys looking them over and pointing at them. “I feel like the new animal at the zoo” Kyle said. “You too?” Joe replied. Just as Joe finished his beer the bell sounded and all of the white banded guys left the area and the Joe and Kyle followed them. Once they were over in the sex area, they lined up - Kyle first, Joe second and up through number 12. The extras stood to the side and then the next bell rang. The talking seemed to stop and just the music filled the warehouse. Kyle looked over and saw the line of bottoms all getting into place. He looked back and saw Paul joking with the guys around him and took a deep breath to relax. Crystal tapped the first guy in the bottom line and he walked towards Kyle. As he got closer Kyle saw his next victim - a tall, tanned blond surfer looking guy with long hair and shiny white teeth. He was one of the ones he saw earlier and had guessed he was in his late twenties. He walked confidently up to the opening of the sex den and Kyle went over and met him. They walked in and found a cube to use. Joe stepped forward and saw Crystal tap the next bottom on the shoulder and he started to walk towards Joe. Joe could sense the uneasiness in his gait and chuckled to himself “the guy is probably just as nervous as I am.” When he got to the opening, Joe could see the guy he was going to fuck was a dark skinned Indian, about the same height as Joe but not muscled at all. He had a trimmed beard without a mustache and was wearing an Atari t-shirt. “Nerd” thought Joe as he walked over and they found a cube to fuck in. One by one the rest of the guys paired up leaving three unassigned tops who were debating who was going to bottom for the other two until Crystal walked up to them and they all started to smile. The music blasted through the area, drowning out any sounds of sex that was soon to happen. Kyle followed his surfer into the cube. The walls were over six feet tall, so no one could really see into the cubes unless they were standing at the doorway. Each cube had 2 bags to put clothes in and a rubber coated pad on the floor. There was a bottle of lube and two towels on the floor in the corner and a single condom thumb tacked right through the center to the wall. Kyle laughed at the sabotaged condom and turned to the surfer who was already taking his clothes off. Kyle stripped and put his stuff in the other bag and moved over to the surfer. They kissed and Kyle pulled him close, cupping his muscular butt. The guy was over four inches taller than Kyle but it didn’t matter. Both of them quickly got into groping and caressing each other. Kyle heard the guy moan into their kiss when his hand gripped Kyle’s cock and he felt the ring. The guy broke the kiss and said “Oh fuck. I’ve never taken a pierced cock before.” “Don’t worry, you’ll like it” Kyle said. Kyle rubbed his fingers along the crack and found the guys hole which felt extremely tight. “Relax, this is going to be fun” Kyle said. When the hole seemed to get less tense, his hands moved up the guy’s back. He was impressed at the taut muscles the guy had and kept moving his hands up until his they were on the guys shoulders. Slowly he pushed the guy down and felt the guys lips and tongue explore down his neck, chest, abs and finally his cock. Number 1 quickly engulfed his stiff cock with a warm, wet mouth and began sucking like a pro. The guy took Kyles cock all the way to his pubes several times, massaging his cock with his throat and tongue. For someone who had never taken a pierced cock before, it didn’t seem to slow the guy down. Kyle began to fuck his face, holding his head with his hands and enjoying his eager cocksucker. His cock was getting coated with spit and throat slime and the surfer was gasping for air each time Kyle pulled most of the way out. Kyle pulled his cock out and tilted the guys head up. The surfer opened his eyes and looked straight at Kyle, his mouth still open. Kyle spit into the open mouth and the guy jolted a bit, surprised at the action. Still staring at Kyle, Kyle said “I want your ass.” The guy nodded and immediately turned around and went to all fours, spreading his legs like he had done hundreds of times before. Kyle grabbed the bottle of lube and brought it closer, just in case spit wasn’t enough to lube the guys clenched hole. He dropped to his knees and spread the muscular mounds before pressing his face in. Licking up from the guy’s balls and up to his hole in one slow motion, the guy wiggled his ass and moaned loud enough for Kyle to hear him over the music. Kyle could see the guy’s six inch uncut cock was dripping precum already, leaving a small puddle on the mat. Kyle dug his tongue in and felt the ring slowly relax. The tight hole he felt earlier was submitting to his tongue and soon his toxic cock would be inside. Kyle tongue fucked his hole and then would lap up the spit while flicking his tongue over the guy’s taint. He could feel the shivers from the guy when he would do it, so he would alternate tongue fucks with tongue tickling his taint. Satisfied that the hole was well soaked with spit, Kyle coated his cock with a light cover of lube. He placed the piercing on the guy’s hole and pressed in, feeling his cock head enter the warm tunnel. There was a bit more resistance and Kyle gave a harder nudge and felt him pop inside the surfer’s unprotected neg ass. The thought caused Kyle to start leaking more precum and he kept driving his cock deeper. He could feel the guy squirm, knowing his cock was stretching the guy open and probably putting small tears in the ass lining. “Just wait til I really fuck this ass” Kyle thought to himself. He let the guy rest a moment once his pubes were firmly against the surfer’s ass. Kyle started to pull back and then quickly rammed back in. The guy tried to pull away, but Kyle held him firmly. He began to fuck the guy’s hole and felt the guy relax and after a few minutes start to enjoy the fuck. Long, firm strokes let the guy know just how long Kyle’s cock was. When Kyle decided the guy was feeling too relaxed, he would slam in, feeling the piercing tug and scrape along the tender tissue gripping his shaft. Kyle didn’t have any concept of time and didn’t know how long he had been fucking. He knew it it had been a few songs since his cock first went into the surfers ass, but it felt really good and he wanted to keep fucking for a while. He also wanted to dump at least two loads into theguy so he started to fuck harder and faster. His balls were churning and he felt his cock swell. Kyle knew it was time to give the guy a taste of his strain and he slammed in, holding the guy tight as his cock pumped and filled his guts with his infected spooge. He leaned forward and said into the guys ear “Don’t worry, I’m usually good for two, maybe three loads.” He didn’t know if that would reassure the guy that he planned to keep fucking or scare him away. The guy milked a few more drops from his cock and then Kyle pulled out, laying down on the mat next to him. The guy moved over and started to suck his cock clean. All of a sudden he stopped and Kyle looked down. The guys eyes were wide open and he could see him mouth the words “You’re poz?” Kyle grinned and nodded yes. He then saw the guy say “Oh fuck!”. The guy went back to licking the cum off his cock, but he could feel the guy shake. After a few minutes of licking, the guy laid down next to Kyle. He could tell the guy’s heart was racing and he hadn’t been prepared to take a charged load tonight. Thanks to the blue pill, Kyle’s cock was still rock hard. Kyle rolled over and stood kneeling between the guy’s legs. Kyle leaned forward and said “You ok?” and the surfer nodded yes. “You want more, don’t you?” Kyle asked. The guy paused a moment and then nodded yes again. Kyle smiled and leaned back and spread the guy’s legs and thrust his cock back into the unsuspecting hole. The earlier fuck was just a warmup and Kyle was determined to make this one something the guy would remember. The spit, precum and cum lubed him perfectly and Kyle took advantage of it. Driving his cock in hard and varying the speed, he would move his hips around jabbing his cock in different directions and abrading the cum coated chute. Kyle paid attention this time and three songs later he was ready to pump a second bug filled load into the surfer. This time, when he started to shoot, he would pull out and ram back in with each pulse of his cock. He could see the guy scream out. He couldn’t tell whether it was from pleasure or pain over the din of the music. After the orgasm faded, Kyle leaned forward and then felt the guy wrap his arms around him, holding him tight. Kyle wasn’t sure what was going to happen and was a little surprised when the guy began kissing him. They rolled over and left Kyle now on his back. The guy kissed and licked the sweat off his chest, nibbling at his nipples and then licked down to his still hard cock. The guy looked at it and laughed before climbing back on top of Kyle, straddling his stomach and lining up the shaft to the surfer’s well abused hole. The guy sank down onto the rigid cock, taking it to the root before he started riding it. Kyle was surprised how hard the guy was bouncing on his cock and even more surprised at how hard his ass muscles were squeezing his shaft. Sweat was flying off the guy and it almost felt like rain on Kyle’s skin. The surfer was stroking his own cock and soon it erupted, coating Kyle’s chest and face with neg cum. The guys orgasm milked one last small load out of Kyle’s balls. Three spurts of virus shot in and Kyle was pretty sure the next couple shots were dry. They laid there a few minutes and finally the guy pulled off of Kyle’s cock. He grabbed one towel and cleaned the sweat and cum off of his chest, cock and legs. Kyle got up and wiped his body down too and put his jeans on and tucked his t-shirt into his back pocket, letting it dangle. When both were dressed, the guy came over and said to Kyle “Thanks, that was fuckin’ hot. Are you on meds or toxic?” “I guess you’ll find out soon enough” Kyle said as he walked out of the cube. Joe followed his bottom into the cube and could see him shaking he was so nervous. Joe looked around the cube and saw everything that he might need. There was a familiar feel to the floor inside the cube and he realized it was a section of wrestling mat. He pulled the condom off the wall and stuffed it in his jeans pocket before he took his jeans and shirt off. He stood there in just his jockstrap and moved over to the guy who said “Hh…h..h.h…hhhhello, I am Amir.” “Hello Amir. You seem awfully nervous. Is this your first time at one of these parties?” Joe asked as he reached out and massaged Amir’s shoulders. “Yyy..yy..yes” Amir replied. Joe moved behind Amir and resumed rubbing his tense shoulders. “Me too. I guess we get to experience it together. Have you had sex with men before?” Joe said into his ear, his warm breath blowing across Amir’s face. Joe hoped he wasn’t a virgin since he really wasn’t prepared to deal with someone unprepared to get fucked and bred like he was planning. “Yyy…yes I have. Mmmmm… many times but my family doesn’t know” Amir said, calming down slightly. “Well, they aren’t here and there’s no reason for them to ever find out what we are going to do. So, relax and let’s just enjoy it” Joe told him. “Yyyyes sir” Amir replied. Joe pulled Amir’s t-shirt off and tossed it over by the wall. “How old are you, Amir?” Joe asked as pressed his bare chest against Amir’s back. “Nnnnineteen, sir” Amir replied as he started to relax. Joe moved his hands over Amir’s body, running his fingers through the hair on his chest and flicking his thumbs over his nipples. He could feel the tension fade in Amir’s body the more he rubbed. He moved his hands to Amir’s back and down to his ass which he squeezed. He moved his hands back to the front of Amir’s jeans and unbuttoned them before pushing them down. Amir was wearing old school boxers and he could feel his firm cock inside them. He could tell that his cock was on the small side but it didn’t matter. Joe was going to do the fucking here. He kissed the back of his neck as he pushed Amir’s boxers down and let them fall to the floor on top of his jeans. Joe backed away a bit and Amir bent over to pick up his jeans and underwear and Joe took his first look at the ass he was going to try and impregnate. It was a little on the flat side and was covered in dark hair which continued down his legs. Joe ran his finger between the crack as Amir was bent over and felt him jump. Once his clothes were folded by the wall, Amir came back to Joe and stopped a foot short looking at him. “I liked your picture… I like men with beards… I wish I had muscles like you… The tattoo makes you look so… uh, dangerous” Amir said to Joe while tracing out the tattoo on his arm and chest with his finger. Joe thought “Just wait until you look at the other tattoos.” Joe pulled Amir closer and tried to kiss him on the lips, but Amir pushed away. “I don’t kiss. I only like to suck and get fucked” Amir explained. “Well then, you better start sucking” Joe said, pushing Amir down to his knees. Amir stared at Joe’s jockstrap and the bulge inside it. He finally put his hands on either side and pulled it down and Joe stepped out of it and kicked it to the side. Amir gasped as he saw Joe’s semi-hard cock. “Suck it” said Joe. Amir put his left hand around the shaft while he played with the piercing with his right hand. Slowly his head went closer and his tongue played with the piercing and finally his lips went around his cut cock. Joe put his hands on the back of Amir’s head and held it as he started to rock back and forth. When he pushed deeper he felt Amir gag but he was doing a better job than Joe expected. He thrust his cock into Amir’s throat and held it there for a few seconds and he felt Amir’s throat spasm around his cock, but he didn’t fight him off. Joe pulled his cock back and Amir gasped for air. Joe looked down and saw two eyes that seemed to say “I will do anything you want me to.” Joe smiled and made Amir suck his cock a little longer before pulling out and saying “Lay down on your back Amir.” Amir did as he was told and instinctively raised his legs. Joe chuckled at his eagerness. Joe pushed him back and licked his tongue up the hairy crack. Before pushing in, Joe always did a light lick to see if a bottom had cleaned out well. Amir passed the test and Joe curled his tongue and pushed in. From the reaction he got, Joe assumed that few guys had ever rimmed his ass. The moaning and writhing seemed to indicate that he liked it and Joe just kept at it. He always enjoyed rimming an appreciative hole and Amir’s was just that. With Amir holding his legs back, Joe spread his ass cheeks wider while using his fingers to stretch the tight hole open. Joe’s fingers and tongue assaulted Amir’s hole and then Joe got a little rough with him. Other than an occasional grunt, Amir never objected to the abuse Joe gave the tender flesh inside his pucker. When he thought the hole was soaked with enough spit, Joe slicked his cock up with a little more and lowered Amir down. With legs over his shoulders, he tapped his cock against the slick hole making sure that Amir felt the steel tap his ass ring. “Sir, you’re going to take it out, right?” asked Amir. Joe smiled and said “No, it will give you new feelings and I like how it feels too.” Before Amir could say anything more, Joe pushed his cock into the hole. Amir clamped down at the sudden invasion, but then relaxed and Joe slowly pushed in deeper. With half of his cock inside, Joe started to fuck, rocking in and out getting further with each inward stroke. Joe could see Amir panting and the tight grip his hole told him the same thing - he was scared about what the PA would do to his insides. Joe knew exactly what was going to happen and it was going to happen sooner with the pressure he was putting on Joe’s cock. Joe picked up the pace and started to fuck faster and deeper while saying “Relax” to Amir. After several minutes Amir’s muscles must have been exhausted and he released his grip on Joe’s cock. Joe really started to enjoy the fuck and his precum was really lubing up the chute, allowing him to long stroke Amir’s pussy. His balls were bouncing off of Amir’s ass and the tightness of the hole was just right to let him fuck as hard as he wanted but still feel the tissue against his bare cock. Joe looked down and saw a smile forming on Amir’s face and he knew he had transitioned from pain to pleasure. Joe started to fuck harder and he was really reaming Amir’s cunt. The tugging of his piercing stimulated his balls to start their production of virally enhanced sperm. Joe wondered if Amir had figured out the symbolism of the scorpion tattoo or was oblivious to the impending poz cum he was going to be filled with. He drove his cock the full length as hard as he could and then left it there as his cock twitched and pulsed as it shot almost ten spurts of charged seed into Amir’s neg hole. Joe looked down at Amir while he bred his hole and saw his eyes get wide, knowing he was being filled with a stranger’s load. Joe gave a few more thrusts of his cock to drive some of the cum deeper and then slowly pulled out. Joe looked down and he had definitely done some damage to Amir’s guts. The cum had a pink hue to it and there were a few darker streaks. Joe rolled over and laid on his back next to Amir, catching his breath. Amir turned to him and said “That was amazing, sir. Do you always fuck that hard and that long?” Joe laughed and said “Yeah, I do. But I hope we’re not done. I just need a little break and we can go again.” Amir’s eyes got wide again and he replied “I am a little sore, sir. But if you want to use me again, you may.” “Just a little sore? I need to do a better job then” Joe thought. “You should clean my cock up a bit before we start our second round” Joe told Amir. “You mean suck your cock, now?” Amir asked. “Yes. Taste what is inside you now” Joe said. Amir slowly moved his mouth towards Joe’s cum and blood covered cock. He tentatively put his tongue out and licked off the tip and studied the taste. “It tastes weird, sir” Amir said before he went down and licked all around Joe’s cock, cleaning it and the base around his cock. After several minutes Joe felt he was ready and got up, pushing Amir to the center of the cube and directing him to stay on all fours. His dick slid into Amir’s hole with ease this time and he pushed all the way in on the first stroke. Joe was on his feet, crouched behind Amir’s raised ass. He pushed down on the small of his back to get him arched and Joe grasped his hips before starting his fuck in earnest. “Slap, slap, slap” was the sound in the cube trying to drown out the dance music the DJ was still playing to a probably empty dance floor. Joe took no mercy in fucking Amir’s sore ass. He pulled all the way out and rammed back in a half dozen times, garnering a loud groan from Amir each time. His cock felt amazing plowing through the load he had dumped in earlier. He was churning the previous cum and adding to it with more poz precum. He knew the wounds he had inflicted earlier gave easy entry to the bloodstream for the virus that was swimming inside Amir’s ass. Joe began to jackhammer Amir’s hole and could hear him whimpering to the pounding. He never asked Joe to stop and Joe doubted he would anyway until he had deposited another toxic load. Joe grunted and slammed in one last time and let his cum begin to shoot inside. Ropes of deadly sperm flew into the cum filled hole. He felt Amir’s hole start to milk his load out and then realized it was from Amir’s own orgasm. His neg seed sprayed all over the mat as both guys reveled in their orgasms. Joe pulled out and this time Amir quickly turned around and licked all of the cum off of Joe’s body - cock, balls, pubes, and legs. Joe sat down and looked back at Amir who said “Thank you, sir. I don’t think I will ever forget this night. It has been an amazing time, but I must go now.” Amir picked up a towel and quickly wiped his body off and then put his clothes back hurriedly on before walking out of the cube. Joe wasn’t sure if Amir was embarrassed or worried or really had somewhere else to go, but he saw the wet spot already forming on the back of his jeans as he walked out. Joe took the other towel and wiped his body down and put his jeans and shirt on before walking back out to the social area and grabbing a bottle of water. He chugged the water down and then grabbed a beer and a few lukewarm appetizers. He looked around and saw Kyle talking to Paul and another top, so he wandered over to them. “How did it go?” asked Paul. “Damn good. Fuckin’ tight hole that seemed to just suck up my cum. How was yours?” replied Joe. “Pretty good too. Though I didn’t last as long as either of you. He just wanted me to pump n dump” Paul said. “And yours?” Joe asked Kyle. “It was a lot of fun. I think he’ll remember this night for a while, at least. How was yours, Trey?” Kyle said. “Not bad. Good hole, but he was pretty dead. I like an active bottom and he just stood there letting me fuck him like a fleshlight” the other guy replied. They watched and saw two different types of people - those that left right after fucking and those that hung around talking to the other guests. Soon, all of the guests started to leave and the workers started tearing things down. “Thats a lot of leftover food” Joe said to Paul. “Yeah, we order extra so theres always some to take over to the homeless gay teen shelter” Paul replied. Paul drove Joe and Kyle back to Mark and Eric’s place and they went up the apartment. Walking in they saw Mark and Eric on the couch, naked, obviously wasted and exhausted from fucking all night. “Did you leave us any? I could use a good toke right now” Joe said and Eric pulled out a small baggie and tossed it on the table. Joe and Kyle smoked a few bowls and then went in to their beds and crashed, reeking of sweat and cum.

Part 3 I woke up some time later in a place I did not recognize. Mostly because i couldn't see anything, my entire face was covered and I could barely breath, it felt like my access to oxygen was being restricted through a hose. I started to move and that's when I realized I was completely shackled to something swinging and I could not move. That's when I heard his voice. "Good you're awake, I've been waiting for you to come to. I've got a lot of fun plans for you. I know you've been catfishing and I know your secret desires to be a fuck hole faggot. Now I just need to train you. I've taken the liberty of going through your phone, I texted your boss saying you've had to leave for a family emergency and that you won't be back for some time. She isn't expecting you for at least a month but we can extend that further when the time comes. Your family thinks that you just need some alone time so they won't be looking for you either." At this point I started to panic regretting everything I had done. I tried to break free but then I felt a punch to my guy. "Stop trying to break free faggot. You won't be able to and the sooner you realize that the better for you." He then placed some headphones on my ears and I heard his deep voice saying "you live for cock, you live for cum, you live for master, you are a faggot" on repeat and then I smelt the acrid smell of poppers. He must have screwed them into the mask I was wearing because the smell was overpowering. I was left there for hours listening to the voice repeating those four phrases over and over and the poppers making my head swim. I couldn't make sense of where I was or what was happening. Just the gentle swing of my body back and forth and the drool running down my cheeks. Then I felt the headphones removed and I came to. I heard his voice say, "how are you faggot?" I just moaned incomprehensibly. He then put the headphones back on and I felt him walk away. I passed out shortly there after. I woke up some time later to myself on a bed, or I guess what I now call my bed, really it's just a sheet on the bottom of a cage that is 4x3ft. I had a collar on, my head had been shaved, my dick was in a plastic cage and I had a terrible burning sensation on my ass. I looked down to my ass to see a new tattoo. It said "no load refused" then he came down the stairs and walked over to me. Without a word he reached into my cage and attached a metal chain to my dick cage, unlocked the door to my bed caged and pulled as hard as he could on the chain. I screamed out in pain to which he quickly turned around and back handed me "You will never make a sound again unless given permission" and then walked me over to a shower and turned it on. He cleaned me out with out saying a word, and then brought me back to the sling in the middle of the room. I then saw what he had put on me the day before. It was a gas mask with a hose attached, and the bottom of the hose had rivets in it. He put the mask back on me and directed me into the sling. He then put the headphones back on and screwed in a bottle of poppers to the hose. I was lost again within minutes. However this time I felt something different, he started to probe by ass with his fingers, pulling my hole apart and stretching it. It was very pliable on account of the poppers and loosened up very quickly. He then took off the blinders on the mask and the headphones. He then showed me his cock. It had about 15 piercings on it of varying sizes and he then leaned down and whispered in my ear. "I am about to make you something very special" I screamed into the mask as he put the blinders back on and the headphones. I then felt the cold tip of metal against my hole.

Part 5 It's been a week since that first breeding, the first couple of days were hard. My ass has been on fire, it hurt to move which honestly has not been too much of a problem since I've been inside a cage with very little ability to move. I've also had my hands closed in these glove type things and the headphones have been on my ears ever since too with the four phrases just repeating and repeating. "You live for cock, you live for cum, you live for master. You are a faggot." He only comes down to give me this goop that he says has all the nutrients a good faggot needs and water. He let's me out just to go to the bathroom once a day, I've stopped shitting so I guess the goop has been completely absorbed by my body. This has been my day to day for the last week until last night. He came down stairs to let me out and he took off the headphones and told me he has something special planned for tomorrow. He said he is having a couple friends come over to see me and what a good faggot I am. My cock immediately strains against my plastic cage. Maybe this audio is starting to have an effect on me. He then proceeds to tell me that they are a part of his support group at the hospital and that my faggot ass will truly be tested. He then led me over to a bench and pushed me over it. "I am putting this in you so all their cum will really take hold" as I felt a metal something push into me. I felt it scraping my insides as it stretched me out. I let out a whimper as he pushed it all the way in. He slapped me in face again for making a noise. "Now i am gonna leave you here for the rest of the night" he said as he shackled my arms and legs to bench, "and if I come down tomorrow and see that sheathed plug out of your hole there will be hell to pay. " and he walked upstairs after he put my headphones back on. It's now the next day and I feel like I've been in this position for ages. The headphones fell off in the middle of the night and I woke up to a knocking on the upstairs door. People must have been arriving for a while because I hear lots of laughter and footsteps upstairs. And i heard my master say, "you boys ready to see a true faggot?" And the door to my cellar opened up.

Part 4 Even though it was cold metal, my hole was in fire. He pushed in and I felt every piercing push into me. It felt like I was being torn open he then bottomed out and I let out a moan of relief. It didn't last long though he pulled all the way out again completely. I felt like I had just been zipped open. I tried to get out of the sling but he slapped me across the face and pushed me down. I felt the cold buckling of cuffs against my wrist and ankles. He then started to push into me again, each piercing grabbing at my hole and dragging across it. This time he slowly started to thrust. Even though I was loose I could still feel every piercing against my hole. He kept thrusting and I could feel my ass getting slippery, it dint hurt as much and his voice in my ears started to sooth me. I was living for his cock and his cum and was wanting him to unload in me, to get it over with but also to feel the warmth of his manliness in me. I felt my cock starting to strain against my plastic cock cage and I started to moan. SLAP He took the headphones off. "What did I say faggot!? No noises unless you have permission." And then he pulled out and slammed all the way in again. I tried not to scream and bit my tongue. I passed out. I woke up to him still fucking me , I don't know how long I was out but it was still going. He saw me come to and removed the headphones. "Good, I'm about to cum and you will be mine always. I have a secret." He then leaned down to my ear and whispered. "I've been poz for 4 years and have a med resistant strain, I just got the notice that I have full blown AIDS and it's all going into you." I screamed as he thrust into me one final time and I felt the warmth gush into me. As he came he told me I was a good faggot slut and now I can become who I was meant to be. He slipped out and I heard a splash, my ass had been leaking ass juices and a small bit of blood. I knew it would take and so did he. He leaned in once more and told me not to worry we weren't done yet. He opened my blinders and I saw him go to the closet in the corner and pulled out a gallon jug filled with yellowish white liquid. He told me he had been saving this for a very special occasion and had been it for 4 months. He told me it was his cum that he had saved. And then he grabbed a funnel and put the end of it into my ass. He again closed my blinders and replaced the headphones. "You live for cock, you live for cum, you live for master you are a faggot," and I felt the cool liquid line the insides of my gut, soothing the ripped flesh and saturating my entirety.

Part 2. Fake me agreed to meet at his place. He said that he had the perfect dungeon set up for a slut like me. It had a sling, a cage for him to keep me in, web cams set up through the room, a variety of toys, and cuffs shackled to the wall. Fake me loved it and told him I would be over the next day. I ended up blocking him on that profile after didn't show up. The very day I was supposed to meet him on my fake profile he messaged me on my real one. He wanted to meet irl and grab a drink at the local gay bar near his house. I was super apprehensive as I knew what kinks he was into but also I thought this might be the way to actually live out my fantasies. I agreed to meet him at 7 that night. I got myself ready and was out the door, ready to meet and hopefully have some fun after. I got to the bar and realized I was a little early so I grabbed a spot at that bar and got a vodka soda. After sitting for what seemed like an eternity I felt a hand on my back. It was him, and he was much older than I though he was. His eyes were sunken in, his face was gaunt and he was very skinny. However after a drink in me and being incredibly horny I didn't care. We got to talking and he grabbed the next round of drinks. After that I don't really remember what happened. I just remember him grabbing my thigh and whispering in my ear "I'm gonna finally have my fun with you johnny" and then I blacked out.

First let me say I am sorry for typos. I am writing this after everything happened. I am a 28 year old guy living in downtown Minneapolis. I am fairly decent looking, 6'ft brn hair and brn eyes, and a slim build. Think collegiate swimmer a couple years after graduation and that is my body type, not super muscular but not super fit anymore either. I don't know how to exactly start this story as it's still a blur to me but I think I'll start from where I think it all went wrong. I started catfishing in college, I found this guys photos online on reddit. He was a 10 out of 10, absolutely jacked and everything about him perfect. So I started to create an online persona with him. I called him johnny and he would live out my darkest fantasies. I would use a geospoofer and put him in new York or weho and made his user name something like "taking loads" it was hot I would make up a whole new life every new place he went. From being a trust fund kid, to a traveling salesman, he had the life all while taking loads. I also had my own actual profile that didn't get as many hits but was still fairly popular. I never thought anyone would collect the dots until I was catfishing in my home town. On my fake profile I had always had a conversation with this one guy who had a shit load of tattoos and I never saw his face but was always intriguing to me. He indulged my fantasies of being gangbanged, and having loads flooding out of my hole. One day he messaged me on my actual profile too. The conversation started off pretty normal. Him: hey man what's up Me: nm just staying inside and avoiding the cold lol. What about you? Him: about the same just chatting up some guys in the area This went on for about a week, messaging him both on my real and fake account. On my fake account I divulged how I wanted to always be flooded with cum, have no choice in what I was able to do and to be a true faggot. He always encouraged this and would set me tasks to do on my "travels." Things like collect ten loads before noon, go to a bathhouse and rent a room and be ass up for 2 hours, and so on. Finally he said he wanted to meet me (fake me) next time I was in town a d I agreed. Meanwhile he did the same to the real me but with out the slutty stuff. We talked about our interests in movies, food and so on. Little did I realize he was tracking my movements on my real account too.

DOUBLE CONVERSION Part 1 Rob was excited as he boarded his flight to New Orleans. He had really been looking forward to his week vacation and it was finally here. It was time for some non-stop drinking and sex. He knew of the cities’ reputation, and was ready to find some holes to sink his fat 8”cock into. It’s not that he had trouble getting serviced at home; after all he was a 6’2” masculine and muscular 32 year old stud. His dark hair, bright blue eyes and well defined muscles got him attention no matter where he went. Every day in the gym there were always guys staring as he worked out and afterwards in the showers of course He was sure it was no coincidence that whenever he showered at the gym that the locker room just happened to be full. He’d play the cock tease and put on a show as he soaped up his defined smooth body, careful to pay special attention to his big cock and balls and well defined ass. However, Rob was all top and he loved to dominate guys. The only thing that got near his ass was the tongue of the bottom that was servicing him at the time. At least in his mind it was degrading for the bottom to eat his ass so that made it hotter. He did have to admit that being rimmed felt great though and made him even harder when he ultimately slammed the bottom’s ass. Although his hometown was pretty good in size, the options to meet guys was somewhat limited. There were only two gay bars in town, one of which was populated mainly by older guys that weren’t his type. He liked younger guys with tight asses. That bar, Renegade, did however attract a lot of guys into leather which was a fetish of his. So he’d go occasionally find someone acceptable for a quick fuck and leave. He had been there enough that the regulars recognized his cocky attitude so it was getting harder to find a hole there. The other bar, Dreams, was more of a twink bar. Of course he got lots of attention there because of his looks but the guys there also recognized him and his reputation. It didn’t help that Rob was fond of taking pictures of guys taking his cock for his collection and those pics occasionally had been used as blackmail when Rob was horny and didn’t want to spend a lot of time finding a hole to fuck. Although he didn’t do drugs himself other than poppers, he did find that a little G and/or X slipped into the bottoms drink made them more willing to do what he wanted. It was especially useful in getting the bottoms to take his cock raw. Raw was the only way he’d fuck, condoms were too restrictive and the felling of his raw cock pounding a tight ass was just so exhilarating. Most of Rob’s conquests lately had been thru apps. There seemed to be a lot of guys looking for cock on the side. He also learned that pretending to be versatile got him more hookups. He never gave his ass up but it did get him the connection in the door and once the guy was zoned out on the drugs and fucked he could leave with his own ass intact. The problem with the apps was all the back and forth messaging that was usually required, Rob didn’t have the patience. A drive to the a nearby college town always resulted in him finding a hole to fuck but that 90 minute drive one way kept him from doing it too often. As Rob settled into his seat on the plane he realized he was hard. Damn he was horny, that asshole last night from Grindr stood him up and he needed to fuck someone. Even though it was a Thursday he was confident from what he had read he’d still get some action tonight in the French Quarter. He was so ready. The male flight attendant noticed his bulge and gave him a smile. Rob thought, “Another gay flight attendant what a surprise”. He had met his share of them that were on an overnight layover in town and were looking for cock on the internet. Most of the ones he had fucked seemed to have well used holes so he thought that probably was why they took the job in the first place.. He did like the NSA attitude they had though and it was always an easy fuck and go since they had to catch flights in the mornings. Although, there may have been a couple of times where they missed the flights because they got a bit too fucked up when Rob was using them. Rob’s attitude was “Oh well if they lost their jobs it’s their problem for being such cum dump whores”. Fortunately the flight had no delays and Rob quickly caught a cab from the airport to his hotel in the French Quarter. Once at the hotel he checked in and immediately changed into a pair of tight worn jeans some black boots and a leather vest. He was ready, his cock was ready! He looked in the mirror, damn he looked hot. That coupled with the fact that he was fresh meat here in New Orleans meant in his mind that he’d get his rocks off soon. He was out the door and on his way to Rawhide. He made a couple of stops along the way to at the bars serving alcohol to the street. By the time he reached Rawhide he had already had 3 beers and was feeling slightly buzzed and very horny. The bar wasn’t packed but it being only 10 p.m. he was sure it would pick up. All eyes were on him, the “fresh meat” theory was certainly true here. His ass was grabbed a couple of times, guess it was time to assert himself as a TOP. Rob made a conscious effort to focus on assess, pat them, grope them, stare at them – surely people would notice what he was interested in. He also casually mentioned to a couple guys standing next to him t at the bar that he was hoping to find a raw bottom to take his load tonight. As the crowd grew he figured it was time to head to the back, he knew from what he read on the internet, that there was likely some action going on back there. Besides he had to piss like a racehorse as he was now on his 6th beer. Here’s where all the people went Rob thought as he pushed his way thru the sweaty bodies and made his way to the urinal. He unfastened his jeans, unzipped and pulled out his cock to let it flow. There were a lot of eyes watching so he thought he’d put on a little show so he stroked his cock a few times to harden it up and shook the last drops of piss off it. Almost immediately, a hand grabbed his cock and started slowly stroking it, someone behind him started nibbling on his neck and another pair of hands played with his nipples. Soon a bottle of poppers appeared under his nose and Rob took a couple of deep huffs. The hand on his cock had been replaced by a mouth which soon began to deep throat his full 8 inches. He was in heaven, but because he was so horny he shot his load deep down the unknown cocksucker’s throat within 15 minutes. He tried to fasten his jeans but he was led to another room cramped with guys and another mouth began to massage his cock. Over in the corner he saw a guy bent over a sink being fucked. The whole room was full of the scent of sweat, poppers and sex. OMG he was ready to cum again. “This place is amazing!!!” After he came the second time someone else was ready to suck his cock. Yeah that would be nice, Rob thought but the site of the guy in the corner getting fucked gave him other ideas. He glanced down slightly and saw a nice plump lily white ass pointed at him, he reached out and fingered the hole . It was wet and lubed so Rob pulled his cock out of the sucker’s mouth and plunged it into the hole in front of him.. The guy in front was caught by surprise to be impaled so suddenly by such a big fat cock and started to call out but Rob soon muffled his mouth with this hand. There were so many people in the room and there was nowhere to go. The guy was soon whimpering.as Rob aggressively pounded his ass while other fed him poppers and groped him all over. Rob’s third load was shot deep in up the assaulted ass and as Rob pulled out another stepped up to fuck the bottom using Rob’s cum as lube. Rob turned and his cock was cleaned by yet another awaiting cocksucker. After all this action Rob needed to piss again but there was nowhere to go. He couldn’t hold it so just started pissing down the throat of his current cocksucker. Wow, Rob thought this was hot, he’d never tried WS. “I’ll have to add that to my repertoire” he thought to himself. Rob eventually go out of the backroom and feeling exhausted left the bar and made his way back home. As he lay on the bed in his room he was grinning ear-to-ear. New Orleans was just as he had hoped and it was only the first day of his trip. He’d have to stop by one of the leather shops he had read about in the morning and check out some new gear and maybe some equipment for his basement. This was going to be a fantastic trip.

Yesterday I got a text message from a married (to a woman) bottom fuck buddy which read - Fuck buddy - "I need your cum so bad" Me - "When do you want bred?" Fuck buddy - " Noon work? Also have a fantasy I want to talk about" Me - "See you at noon and you can tell me then" My fuck buddy, like always, showed up right at noon. He pulled into my drive with is truck and came right in and up to my room. I was in bed watching some ht bareback porn stroking my cock. He immediately strips down and starts sucking my cock. After about 10 minutes of sucking I asking what his fantasy was that he referred to in his text. He told me that he has always wanted to take a poz load of cum up his hole. I asked if he was on PReP. His responded that he wasn't and didn't want to be. Said it would ruin the fantasy and the thrill for him. He asked if I knew anyone that could fulfill that fantasy for him. I said I may know a couple guys. That got him horny for my cock. He reached over grabbed the lube and lubed up my cock and his hole up. He got on the edge of the bed and I stood up a slide in deep inside his hungry hole. His ass felt like pure heaven!!! This guy likes to get fucked hard and rough and that is exactly what he got. After about 15 minutes of edging my cock in his ass I asked what he wanted. He shout out that he wanted me to blow my load deep in his married ass. I then said to him - "You want my poz seed in your hole slut?" His eyes immediately opened wide and this look of pure lust came over him. Befoer he had a chance to reply I blew my load deep in his hole!!! After we came down from our climaxes he asked me if I was just feeding his fantasy or if I was really breeding him with poz cum. When I told him that he has been taking poz cum since I took his virgin hole over a year and a half ago he immediately got hard and asked if I could fuck some more. I ended up giving him 2 more poz loads and I realized that his inner pig had been unleashed. During the second and third times he kept begging for my poz loads and telling me to fill him with my special seed. After he had left I got a text message from him which read - "Free again this week? I need more of that special seed in me because I truly am a cum pig now" Yes he will be getting bred a lot more now!!!!

Tommy grabbed my hand and led me back to the table with the rest of the guys...Where have you been Spence, getting lucky...with that all the guys started chuckling except for me...I stayed for maybe another hour or so and decided to head home...It's been a long day...Driving home, I kept thinking about Randy and our time together..I pulled into my apartment around midnight....I got undressed and got into bed both my mind and my cock were thinking about Randy, I couldn't help wondering how big his cock his, was it think, was it uncut....I started massaging my cock and fantasizing about being naked with him., I shot the most incredible load it hit my chin... I was having the most incredible dream as I was laying in bed dreaming i kept hearing a phone ring, finally after the fourth ring I realized it was my phone. I grabbed it and mumbled Helloo...On the other end was my mom, Spence did I wake you? it's 10am are you still in bed? I continued chatting with my mom for about 20 minutes and hung up the phone....As I was laying back in bed my cock started thinking of Randy and back to my dream, as I was getting into the moment my damn phone rang again. I answered roughly HELLO, then I heard the voice on the other end say my arent we grouchy in the morning, it was Tommy....his first question was did i interrupt you, who are you with? did you bring someone home with you? I answered and said NO I am by myself....um yea Tommy said and then started asking what are my plans for the day...We made plans to hang out at the pool around 11 and Tommy was going to bring over some beverages to enjoy the morning... As we were laying by the pool chatting my mind went back to my conversation with my mom, what did she mean I need to get a job for the summer..I thought i would do what i did last year and enjoy my summer with my friends and go tube down the salt river....

Although I knew the bar wouldn't likely shift, I was trying not to move too much as I was so horny that I could see myself shaking down the house in my determination to back-up on that cock. The cock felt great and the poppers kept me high and the adrenaline of the situation kept me going. There was so much wrong with this but I didn’t care at that point. Frank and Steve called to Patrick from the kitchen. “Sorry, they need me. When Andy gets back tell him it will be about fifteen minutes till dinner is ready then you guys can come eat. I’ll leave you alone till then. I hope he isn’t too long” I heard my boyfriend say, as, ever the gracious host him got up from the bar. I had to keep from screaming when Nick pulled his monster out of ass, partly because it hurt and partly because it left me feeling so…vacant. I grabbed the bottle of poppers to see if there was any still in it, which thankfully there was, although not very much and slid out from my position under the bar. It’s funny that you never notice how uncomfortable a position really is until you try to leave it. Once out from under the bar I hit the floor, bottle under my nose, ass in the air, turned around looked at Nick begged him to fuck me again. He didn’t take much begging but it was a big turn on to do so. In no time at all he had that monster back inside me and was fucking me as hard and fast as he could with his full length. And I thought the previous fucking was good, man could this guy move. Drunk, poppered, and getting plowed by a poz stud with a huge cock, one load in me and another on the way all while my boyfriend and his Dad and Uncle were in the next room. I moaned in pleasure. “You like this big dick fucking you?” “Yes sir, I sure do, please don’t stop.” “You heard I’m poz?” I took another deep breath from the poppers, “Yes,” was all I could moan in response. He pushed me hard into the floor driving his cock as deep into me as he could grabbing my hair and pulling my head back as far as he could. “You want another poz load in that hole?” Again I moaned yes. “Yeah I know you do. I’m working on it baby. I’m gonna fuck so much cum into you. Does your boyfriend know you’re a bottom cum slut? That’s what you are now, a dirty poz cum slut?” He whispered harshly into my hear while driving that cock in and out of my ass. “You want this load? You want me to breed you? You want me to infect that ass don’t you?” The only answer the pleasure and the poppers would allow me to answer was yes. Yes. YES! God, I wanted him to blow another load into me and keep on fucking. I never wanted his dick to leave my hole. It seemed so perfect, his god-like body fucking me with that beautiful cock forever. The intoxication of the moment was almost too much. His poz load would fill my guts until I too was infected and he would just keep fucking me. The virus would ravage my body and all the while he would be fucking me. When our bodies were old and dead the sexual momentum we has spent the time building would carry on for eternity and he would always be spilling his precious seed into me. Yes I wanted him to fill me again. And just like that I was cumming. I opened my mouth to scream the climax was so intense but it was instantly covered by his rough hand. “You asked for it baby, here it comes.” His body slammed into me again and again as he climaxed and came dumping shot after shot of cum into my hole. I was shaking from the chill, from the orgasm, from the poppers I’d been sniffing for entirely too long, from knowing I had just begged a poz man to fill me with his load, from know that I enjoyed it way too much. He lay on top of me. I could still feel every inch of him in me. I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck and I could feel his cock throbbing with every heartbeat. What a fuck! After a moment he got up and ordered me to clean his dick off, which I did happily. I put his dick in my mouth and sucked off the cum and ass juice. His cock tasted like fuckin' heaven. Once satisfied that it was clean he put it away and picked up his drink and left to go to the kitchen to join the other guys. I took a few deep breaths and staggered upstairs to the bathroom to clean up. I had cum on my stomach from shooting my load and I would need to clean out my ass. Remembering the cum I starting fingering it into my mouth on my way up the stairs, thinking god I love the taste of cum. Having eaten all my cum on the way, when I got to the bathroom I grabbed a rag to wet and wipe the stickiness from my stomach and was about to use the bathroom when Patrick popped his head in asking "You okay?" "Yes, I'm fine, I just need to freshen up." He entered the bathroom, closed the door, kissed me, and proceeded to help me with my disheveled hair. “No more drinks for you until after dinner” he said, giving me that ‘what am I going to do with you look’. He kissed me again, grabbed my hand and led me down stairs to the dining room for dinner. Nick was grinning from ear-to-ear as I sat down, oh so slowly. It wasn’t until I was actually seated that I realized that since Patrick decided to visit me in the bathroom I never got a chance to clean out my ass. I was so nervous about keeping his cum inside me. What kind of person wants poz cum inside his ass? That’s just wrong. It was the poppers and the alcohol. But it did feel good having it in there. Then, amid the chatter of the guys, I heard Patrick say to me “Oh, after we eat me, Dad and Uncle Steve want to go see the new Harry Potter movie at the theater. Since I know you have no interest in that stuff, and Nick doesn’t either, I thought the two of you could keep each other company.”

This is my first try at writing a story. I have been so blessed and turned on by the gifts others have given us in their stories, their time and imagination, I thought I would try and do the same. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Part one, the background... I grew up the youngest child of a conversative preacher. There was quite a difference in age between my age and that of my siblings. My siblings were also different from me as they also were quite smart and outgoing, and were, like my parents, darkly complected. In contrast I was different as I was shy, naive, trusting, polite, tall, blond, blue. Occasionally someone would tell me I was very handsome and well built, but I knew I was clearly not the brightest kid around, particularly as more than once I was teased about my lack of brain power. I was, however, great in sports and was confident my athletic abilities would get me a scholarship to get away so I could make something of myself. After my Dad took off with a woman from his church, things turned rough for us. My Mom was the talk of the town, utterly devastated by my Father's duplicity. Not surprisingly she retreated into herself. The familial turmoil didn't affect my siblings to the degree it hit me as they were all older, done with college and moved away and had families of their own., so I found myself looking outside of my family for a sense of balance, and I found it in a neighbor who lived just down the street. Mr. C. was a single man, and, aside from having the nicest house, nicest cars, owning several pizza stores, and seemingly having and endless stream of sexy women visitors, the guy was my idol. He even looked like me I always thought, so I fantasized about me having his life. My Dad always talked badly about him, but Mr C was always super nice to me when I would ride by on my bike or stop and talk to him. Mr. C had told me a few times that once I turned 18, I could work at one of his pizza places making deliveries and helping out with clients. Things started to look up. I had been held back one year so I was just starting my senior year in high school and it was my 18th birthday and then I got the letter I had hoped for: a full athletic scholarship to the state university and a cherished full ride scholarship to play hockey and track and field for them. While in high school I had been a really good left defense man, and, after running high hurdles and pole vaulting to new heights, I held the state record, so when one quite warm Saturday afternoon in early summer shortly after graduation I received the letter from the state university offering me an athletic scholarship, I was on top of the world - only for my Mom to announce she was broke. Immediately realizing I would need to find a job to make some money to spend while at school, I recalled Mr. C’s offer to work for him, so I quickly biked down to his house, panting heavily from the exertion of biking in the heat, and, having dropped the bike, I did a dog trot to his back yard where I found him shirtless, cleaning his pool. I had never seen him without a shirt so I was startled to realize his well-developed chest was covered with a thick coating of fur, and his nipples - well can I say? They were absolutely huge. I was so startled, in fact, I found myself involuntarily staring at his chest for several seconds, long enough, in any event, Mr. C. snapped his fingers and said “Pup, Pup, what’s going on? Why are you staring?” A slight digression. My nickname growing up was 'pup' because although I was shy and kind of awkward, I was always so eager and happy to see my friends, which led someone to announce I acted like an excited puppy.... so the nickname 'Pup' stuck. Back to my story, I apologized and said “I am sorry Mr C., I don’t mean to stare, but I always thought you would be smooth and your nipples are huge.” He laughed and asked “Why would you think that, Pup?” Turning beet red I replied "Well, I always thought of myself as a junior version of you, but I'm as smooth as a melon." Chuckling he responded "Yes, well, sorry to disappoint, and yes, I'm sure your nipples are not like mine." I blushed more but responded "Well, your fur is awesome actually and for the nipples, mine are certainly bigger than anyone else’s in gym class, but no, they are not like yours, but I do play with them a lot.” His eyes wide Mr. C. asked "You what, Pup?" My face downcast in embarrassment, and my cheeks flushed a bright shade of red, I managed to reply "Oh, sorry, I sometimes just blurt things out. I shouldn’t have said that. I am sorry Mr. C., but since Dad took off, and all my brothers have moved out of the house, I don't generally have anyone to talk to about things so I tend to forget my filter. Again, sorry. That was definitely TMI." He put his pool cleaning equipment down, walked over to me, and, placing two fingers under my chin, raised my head up, saying "Lukas, look me in the eyes." Complying, his beautiful blue eyes locked onto mine when, with quiet intensity he said “I'm always here to talk to.... about anything,” giving me a smile that reached his eyes. Still locked by his beautiful eyes, a wide cheesy grin blossomed on my face. Approving, Mr. C. ran his fingers through my hair murmuring "You're a good pup. I'm glad to see you smile." Now feeling a bit less awkward, I asked if I could help him and maybe chat with him for a few minutes. "I can always use a helper, Lukas. This pool demands a lot of work." Following his example, I peeled my shirt off and couldn't help but notice he was taking in my chest, so I wasn't not particularly embarrassed when he commented "You know, Lukas, you are right. Your pecs are impressive. It looks all that time in the gym over the summer has done well by you.” "Thanks, Mr. C., I've been working out a lot, and while initially thought the effort would be pointless, after a few weeks even I could see what was happening." Then, taking a deep breath and after a moment of silence to collect my thoughts, I continued asking “Mr. C, do you remember saying that.... well saying maybe.... well maybe I could work at one of your stores when I turn 18?” "Yes, I do, Lukas," Mr C. replied with a noc. "Well today is my 18th birthday and I got accepted to the State University next fall with a hockey and track and field scholarship and really will need some money." Stepping over to my location, Mr. C. gave me a high 5 and then surprised me by lifted me off the ground, which was no small feat as I was 6’2”, but I guess as he had two or three inches on me, and his build was impressive, he had little trouble lifting me. Afterwards he put me back on my feet, and, placing his hands on either side of my face, he pulled me in for a hug and, possibly, a fatherly kiss on my forehead. “I knew you could do it Lukas. I am so proud of you.” It says volumes that Mr. C. was the first person to congratulate me on the scholarship. My Mom hadn't even given much of a response, so it's understandable I found myself grinning ear to ear, basking in the pride Mr. C. emanated. "Pup, did you know I played defense on the hockey team at the State University when I was in undergrad?” “Awesome, I had no idea,” I responded. “Yeah, actually I saw my old Coach Tony in town a few weeks ago. He mentioned he was in town to interview you,” Mr C said. “Wow, really? What a small world it is,” I said. “Yep. I told him, you are a great kid and you work really hard to really please him, the donors and the school." ”Holy cow Mr. C. Thank you so much. I am not sure how I could ever repay you." Mr C. smiled as he assured me "Pup, I know you will not disappoint me. And about the job, hey, what would think of coming to work for me now that you are 18?” It was now my turn to hug him, saying “Gosh Mr C, this is the best day of my life. Thank you so much." "The day is just getting started. I had someone quit last night. It might not seem like much of a gift, but if you could work tonight, it would really help me out." A huge smile on my face I replied "Are you kidding Mr. C? This is the best gift I could ever have received. Of course I will.” Giving me a warm but brief hug, Mr. C. responded "Oh, Pup, we will see if there isn’t another special and wonderful gift waiting for you later.” Hearing that, I hugged him even tighter and then broke the hug and helped him finish cleaning the pool. When we were done and putting the tools away Mr. C. commented "Show up at the store on Front Street at 5:00 PM. I'll meet you there and have a uniform for you." Hearing his message, however, I was somewhat dismayed and answered, "Oh, crap, Mr. C. I don’t have a car." “No worries, son. We'll take my car, and you can use it until you get one. Meet me here at 4:30." I got on my bike, and before riding off replied "Yes Sir. See you at 4:30, Mr C.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Next, part 2. My first night on the job and learning the ropes. I promise.... the gifts of the job offer and other goodies will soon be unveiled.

When you are a size queen like me, you just cant say no to a big cock-- not even a toxic one that might give you HIV. Now I'd been barebacking for awhile, but i aleays looked for neg guys-- or at least guys who lied and said they were neg. But its hard to find negative barebackers- and i really like raw cock. Well, i found this one guy's profile on BBRT enticing, so I started chatting with him. His profile said he was "huge and uncut"-- so I just had to find out more! His profile also said "ask me" under status. Of course he was Poz--- but he also proclaimed to have a 9x7 piece of meat. We chatted off and on for a few months anD exchanged pics, there was always some reason not to hook up-- besides my overall fear of him being positive an having a cock that would rip me open. One night, after I had a few beers, I found myself on BBRT and feeling incredibly horny for a fuck. And big cock stud was on. And he IM'd me. Him: you lookin? Me: yeah. I need to get fucked bad Him: you finally gonna let me breed that sweet hole? Me: will you go easy on me? Him: yeah-- I know I'm big. Don't worry Him: and you're ok with Poz? Me: would you pull out if I asked? Him: yeah- I can cum either way Me: yeah, I think we should do this Him: can we film it? Just for us. I like to rewatch my fucks later Me: as long as you don't post the video anywhere Him: cum on over. Bring poppers He gave me the address which was only a couple miles away. And soon I found myself knocking on his door. I was met by a thin, wiry daddy guy, in his 50's and a bit shorter than me. He ushers me in and leads me to his basement which could best be described as seedy. Ratty carpet, bad panelling, a threadbare plaid sofa, empty liquor bottles and full ashtrays everywhere. We go to the couch and sit. I'm nervous as hell, but the porn is playing and it gives me something to watch. Seeing my hesitation, he pulls off his shorts... Holy fuck. That cocknof his flopped out and I was mesmerized. It was every bit as impressive in person. Moreso actually. Thick as my wrist, especially in the middle, with all this extra foreskin hanging off the tip. He was also flopping yo about mid-thigh And he wasn't even fully hard yet! "Why don't you suck it for starters?" he suggests. I knelt and tried to work that monster as best I could, but at my best I could only fit about half of it in my mouth. So I mainly concentrated on his skin-- tonguing it for all I was worth. Pretty soon he was all full mast and so was I. "You ready to get the fuck of your life?" I nodded yes. He led me over to his desk area and his computer. He fired up the computer's camera and started recording. Then he pushed me down and had me suck some more and get him good and hard and wet. While I sucked he talked up a storm-- giving me feedback, telling me how it felt, what to do. Then he asked me if my ass was ready. He stood me up and squirted lube on his massive cock, then he had me lube my ass. He spun me around and had me brace against the panelled wall while he rubbed his fat cock head against my crack. "You might wanna hit them poppers about now," he suggested. So I did. My alcohol buzz mixed with the fresh poppers sent me soaring and the next thing I knew he was using short quick thrusts to work his head into my ass. It felt in-fucking-credible! While he slowly worked deeper, he kept up a steady litany of "Yeah, open that ass up-- take my big ol Poz cock in that pussy!". Stuff like that. I kept hitting the poppers hard, but it didn't help much when he got to the thickest part of his tool. "Whoa! Damn that's thick-- I can't take it all," I told him. "Okay," he said, then he grabbed my hips and shoved violently into my hole. I screamed in pain and tried to get away, but he had me pinned to the wall by that giant prong of his. I know I was whimpering a lot, but he didn't care. He told me to just do more poppers. "I know it hurt- but it was for the best. Trust me, yours wasn't the first tight ring I've had to bust. Besides, When I promised you the fuck of your life, I kinda meant of your death too." And then he started really fucking me. Okay, I admit the pain of him ripping past by sphincter sucked, but what his cock did inside my body was nothing short of amazing. The fat part of his cock steamrolled my prostate with every thrust, and the knob of his cockhead kept popping up into my Colon with every thrust. I could feel him poking so deep in me-- deeper than any cock or toy had ever been. It hurt... Deliciously. "Yeah boy! Take that Poz cock! Wrecking your guts with my dick of death! You love taking this Poz meat, doncha boy?" And I did. He probably drilled me for about 15 or 20 minutes solid- and by the end I was fully bent over, bracing my hands on that wall and pushing back into him. And he was fucking me with every inch-- coming out just so the head was in, then slamming back in. My cock was drooling precum everywhere. "What's your status, boy? You neg?" "Yes sir," I managed to get out between grunts. "You know I'm Poz, right?" "Yeah..." "Well, I'm getting close, boy-- where you want my load?" The poppers and alcohol (and the amazing cock) had done their trick. "Don't stop fucking me!" I heard myself beg. "Well Here it cums boy! Here it.... Fuuuuuuuuuck yeah! Breeding your neg cunt with my toxic seed! Take my dirty load bitch!" When he started shooting, he planted his cock as hard and as deep as he could. He also had one of those spongier cocks that really swells and pulses as it cums, so I felt every shot of his venom jizz up inside my colon. Then I came-- all over the panelling and that nasty carpet. I didn't even touch myself, my orgasm just... Happened. He stayed inside me for a few minutes, slowly thrusting and withdrawing his meat. Working his load into my guts. Which is exactly what he said while doing it. Eventually he did what felt like the longest pullout I have ever felt, and his dong popped out with a wet plop. Them he turned off the video and we cleaned up and got dressed. He showed me bits of our "movie"--- damn, it WAS hot seeing that much cock wrecking my butt! He promised to email me a copy for my enjoyment. "And this is just for us, right? No posting online?" "Don't worry," he told me. A couple weeks later I got sick-- and I knew. Sure enough, my next HiV test confirmed it. I Tried looking For big cock daddy online, but I almost never saw him on. I emailed several times, but months went by and I never got that copy. Evidently it was "too big" to email. And when he was online, we could never find a time to repeat the fuck do I could get a disc. Then one day I got an email from an acquaintance of mine (a friend of a good friend) and I though "how unusual" for him to contact me. In his email he sent me a video link and said I should watch it. It was for some bugchaser or bug share website.... My heart stopped. Damn if it wasn't our video, right out there in the public domain. You could see my face, me sucking his cock, me taking hom raw... I sorta freaked out a bit, to be honest. Then I watched the whole thing while jacking off. It a fucking hot clip! He had edited it down some for time, but you could hear me basically beg him for his toxic load and then there he was knocking me up with it. Evidently lots of guys liked it because it got a 5 star review and had been watched several thousand times. Plus there were comments posted like "I love how that bugchaser begged for you to breed his cunt!". Stuff like that. Although the site where the video was originally posted is gone, I still run into our video now and again on dirtier sites. And it always reminds me of the fuck of my life. And my death.

Yesterday afternoon I was in a sling at CCBC in Palm Springs and this dude was fucking me. After a little while he paused and asked me if he could piss inside me. Being the good sub that I am I told him it was his decision. He filled me full and continued to fuck me for another 20 minutes. It was so fucking hot. It ended with his load mixed in with a lot of piss. After he finished I walked back to the room with piss dripping down my legs. Hard as hell just thinking about it.

Chapter One The more I stood there looking at the black steel door in front of me, the more I got pissed. He disappeared in the evenings during the week many times, only to show up with some lame excuse to where he had been. Tonight, I followed him. I was going to find out what the fuck was going on. I expected to see him go into one of the many adult bookstores in our area, but he went passed them and down this alley. I wondered if he knew I was following him, because at the top of the stairs leading down to where I was now, he paused and looked at the entrance of the alley. A smug grin came across his face and then he descended to the door. With a loud bang, he was gone. My anger grew and without thinking about it I kicked the bottom of the door. The thud echoed through the alley way. I heard some loud clicking and the door swung open. “What do you want” a deep commanding voice said from the darkness inside. “I, um, I’m not sure……”I stuttered out. “You the fresh meat?” the voice asked “I……” Without starting my second word, a large muscular arm reached out of the dark, it’s hand grabbed my arm and pulled me in. The door slammed shut with a loud thud, then a click and I knew I was trapped inside this place. Before I could say anything or even protest, the man pushed me into a room and order: “Strip” I was shaking with fear and without even thinking, I pulled my shirt over my head, stuffing it in one of the large brown bags on the floor. I kicked off my shoes and tossed them in. “Hurry the fuck up, the clients will be in soon” I undid my jeans and pulled them off, tossing them in the bag. There I was standing in my underwear, with this huge muscle man looming over me. “Underwear too,” he said, “Fuck are you shy?” Hooking my fingers in the waistband of my briefs I pushed them down my legs. His had went to my ass, rubbing it, then sliding his fingers in my crack. They moved up and down, teasing my hole. I was too scared to pull away and allowed him to play with my ass and hole. “Okay, lets get you strapped in and hooked up” he said. He grabbed my arm, around my bicep and pulled me down a darkened hall. As we moved I looked around, trying to see if my cheating bastard of a boyfriend was lurking around. I got a good look at the first room we past. It was full of glory holes, about 4 on each wall. I tried to get a better look, but the brute pulled me along. He pulled me around a corner and opened a hidden door. I could see a padded bench about waist high in the room. A black piece of leather covered an opening in the wall, blocking my view of what was on the other side. “Get up there and slide through” the brute ordered me. I quickly, got up on the bench on my knees. “Wait, stay just like that and relax” I was too scared to move. He grabbed a bottle off a shelf. It had a long thin tip on it. He squeezed it a bit and a clear liquid oozed out the top. Using his thick finger he rubbed that liquid up and down the tip. He positioned it at my hole and slid it in, squeezing it. I could feel the warm liquid coating my insides. Once he was satisfied, he pulled it out and put it back on the shelf. “Okay slide through” I laid down on the bench and slide my legs through the opening, lifting the leather just a little. “Keep going until I tell you to stop” I slide more and more. My legs were hanging out in the other side. I kept moving until the top of my ass was just past the edge of the bench outside the leather. “Right there. He positioned the leather up around my belly button and clamped it down on each side of me. He put my arm down beside me and strapped me in, then moved to the other and did the same. He pulled another strap over my chest and pulled tight. What ever was going on, I wasn’t going anywhere. He grabbed a clear plastic tube, that looked exactly like what you would see in hospitals to get oxygen. He hooked two hoops around my ears and then positioned two tips coming out of the tube up my nose, one in each nostril. “I don’t think this is right….” I said finding my voice. “Yeah they all say that the first time” “But….” “Relax and enjoy” he said leaving me in the room, turning off the bright light above leaving me in the dark. A few minutes later, I felt a hand around my ankle, raising my leg up. I could feel cold leather around my ankle shortly after. The slack in what ever was holding my leg was pulled tight and I was left with my leg in the air, unable to move it. Before I could even say anything my other leg met the same fate. A rough hand started to explore my ass, feeling my smooth cheeks and then my crack. The fingers pushed against my hole. I felt a sharp nail scratching the sides of my hole, then press inside. “Prep him good” a voice said. As the finger slid inside and started to scratch at my insides, I breathed deep through my nose. Poppers were flowing through the clear tube and I immediately felt the relaxing wave run through my body. The finger nail continued to scratch up my insides. “You’re going to love this” another mysterious voice said through the walls. I mumbled something, even I couldn’t understand. “Been coming here for weeks” the voice said. Even in my popper high I recognized the voice, it was my boyfriend David. I fucking knew it. “Just keep huffing and you will enjoy it too” My mind wondered if he knew it was me. I hoped not. The finger pulled out and I started to hear ominous music playing. In the darkness of my little room my mind began to wonder, what exactly was this place. Soon there were noises in the hall that brought my mind back to the situation I was in. Voices were talking, some I could make out what they were saying, others I couldn’t. “Look they have fresh meat” someone said rubbing my ass. “I will try that soon, but I am going to slid into the one that’s been here before” “Yeah, guess he’s not infected yet” “Been taking all the loads and haven’t turned” David said. “You need more then” a voice said. “Yeah, been giving it to the boyfriend too, want to pass it to him” David said. “Huff deep” a voice said. I heard a grunt and then David moaning. What the fuck was happening? Was he getting fucked right now? I felt a finger play with my hole and slid in and out. I tensed up a bit. “The more you tense up the rougher it gets” a voice at my feet said. The finger was replaced with a cock head, pressing against my hole. I huffed deep from my “popper line,” as the head push in and went balls deep. The pain was intense, yet dulled a little from the huffs I was continuing to take. “Just popped the new boy’s cherry” the man said, “going to open him up and seed him deep” Fuck, even through the popper fog my mind was in a panic. This man was fucking me raw, I only ever fucked raw with my boyfriend. I tried to move and I couldn’t, the restraints were too tight. I squeezed my hole, trying to force out the raw cock, but that only encouraged the man. “Yeah you bitch in heat, squeeze that ass around my cock” “Fuck, sounds like he wants to milk out that spoiled seed” “First time chasers are so fucking eager” My mind raced to come up with ideas on how to escape. I tried to focus on not breathing through my nose, but as the cock continued to pump in and out of my hole, the more I huffed the poppers. “Wish y’all were infecting my boyfriend” David said. What the fuck, I thought. Not only was he cheating and taking loads and trying to infect me with what ever disease he caught, but now he wants me here getting infected. My anger grew thinking about how fucking twisted this was. Yet, I hadn’t cried out for them to stop, nor did I expose to my boyfriend that I was in the dark room next to him. “I get that hole next” I heard a voice say. “It’s yours” It wasn’t the man fucking me responding. It was David’s top. “Heard the shit shot up there hadn’t taken, so they called in the big guns” “Yeah?” “Full blown, med resistant” There was a loud cheer from the other side of the wall. David was moaning loudly, could even hear him over the slapping of flesh as the two tops pounded our holes. “If that don’t take, I will go the blood route” David said. “Oh it will take” the man said. The cock in my hole was thrusting in and out at a fast pace. His balls were swinging and hitting my back when he thrusted in. They must have been so low hanging nuts. The head of the cock would meet the inside of my hole, pull it out just a bit and then his cock would be shoved back in balls deep. My pulse throbbed in my temples and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, drumming out the rhythm of the fucking that I was getting. “Full blown huh?” someone asked, “you look like death is trying to beat down your door” “I take that as a compliment” the man said, “plan to infect as many as I can before I meet the grim reaper” David was moaning louder and louder as the slapping of flesh got louder and faster. Who ever was up his hole was pounding him like there was not tomorrow. The man up my hole was still pounding me at a good pace. “Here comes your first load of the night” someone said. “Shoot that cum up my hole, breed me you diseased fucker” David shouted. “Ohhhh fucccckkk” There was cheering as the man came up David’s hole. This encouraged my top who started to pound my hole harder and faster. I was grunting with every thrust in. “Cherry boy is about to get his first infecting” the man said. “Break his cherry, breed him deep” someone shouted. “Hold on buddy, it only gets better from here” David said. The man slammed into me deep. I could feel his cock pulse as his load shot out of his piss slit and splattered the walls on my insides. “Virus ho!” he shouted. There was more shouting and cheering as the man shot in me. I closed my eyes and felt my warm tears run down the side of my face, cooling as the moved away from my eyes. My mind was twisting in the guilt of what just happened. I was beating myself up for allowing this to happen. for not stopping the muscled brute from strapping me to this bench. “Beg for my disease” voice said, “Beg for my death” “Please gift me with your disease, your death. Shoot your mutated virus in me, to spread” David said. I heard a loud grunt and knew that the man had shoved his cock up David’s hole. “Oh fuck yeah Daddy,” David yelled, “deep dick me” I listened close as the man pounded David’s hole. My cock was hard and standing up, supported by the leather. A hand slapped my ass hard, making it sting and warm, then a cock slid up my hole. I moaned. A hand wrapped around my cock and slowly jacked it as the cock started to move in and out of my hole. “Milk that last untainted load out of those balls” someone said. The man started to jack my cock faster and faster, while his cock was pushed in deep, his crotch against me. I could feel my cum building. “Anyone wanna eat a virus virgin’s load” the man jacking me asked. “Oh fuck no” someone replied, “waste that shit on the floor” I felt a new hand take over jacking my cock as the cock in my ass started to move, pumping in and out. Soon they were moving at the same rhythm. Each time the hand slid down my shaft, it crushed my nuts. I wanted to cry out that I was about to cum, but did’t want David to know it was me on the next bench getting seeded by anonymous men, just like him. My muscles began to tense up as my cum load got closer and closer to shooting out of my piss slit. My ass muscles squeezed the cock in my hole, only to have it pump harder and rougher. “He’s about to blow” the guy fucking me yelled. “Jack him harder” someone yelled. “Milk that vanilla load” another voice yelled. “Empty those nuts, so they can fill up with poison seed” David said. My body tensed up more and I felt my muscles twitch and my cum shoot out. I could tell this load was shooting high. The men cried out as my piss slit opened and my load flew high in the air. The hand on my cock continued to jack and my cock continued to shoot. Until it to too sensitive and began to deflate. Once limp the hand dropped it and it fell on to my crotch.

My Boy Wanted BIG Dicks - Chapter 1. My boy and I fuck as often as we can. We have great sex, even if it can seem like the ‘spark’ is gone sometimes. He nearly always bottomed for me, raw, of course, and he could take all of my cock like a champ, but I sensed he wanted something more. One night, as I was pounding his hole, he reached back and slid a finger into his hole next to my thrusting cock. He moaned and pulled out his finger. I quickly replaced it with mine, and soon had three fingers inside his hole along with my cock. I used my other hand to grab my phone off the bedside table and took a few sexy pics. The extra girth had him whimpering like a bitch in heat. That sent me over the edge, and I bred him deep. When I pulled my cock out, I kept working my cummy fingers into his hole, more puffy and stretched than I’d seen it in a long time. We swung back and forth from having an open relationship at times to relatively monogamous. It seemed to me like it was time to find something bigger for my boy to get stuffed with. I realized that if I didn’t do it for him / with him, he’d do it without me. The next day, after work, I stopped by an adult bookstore where in the past I had often sucked cock through a glory hole. On this occasion, however, I was after a cock ring to plump my dick up, and, who knows, perhaps find a big-dicked stud to bring home with me to open my boy’s hole up. I found a cock ring that looked promising; it was chrome and looked as if it would fit snugly around my cock and balls. I paid for it, as he gave me the change, the cashier smiled at me, offering to show me how to put it on. I accepted his invitation and and followed him to a video booth in the back. He left the door behind him slightly cracked and started to pull down his track pants. Out plopped a nice plump seven-inch dick with some big low-hanging balls. He lifted his nutsack, and I could see he was wearing the same cock ring. He unzipped my trousers and fished out my dick. My cock does the job if it is only average. He smirked at me and whispered, "I can see why you’d like a little… enhancement." I chuckled as he unhooked my belt and shoved my pants and underwear down to my ankles. "The trick," he continued, "is to put it on before you get really hard." He slid the ring over my cock and then fished one and then the other nut through the opening. As soon as I had it on, he swiveled me around so I was facing the wall. He grabbed my hips so my ass was ripe for fucking. He spit on his plump dick and slapped it against my ass a few times. I wanted to feel that big dick opening me up, so I grabbed my cheeks and spread my ass wide. He worked three spit-slick fingers into me at the same time. I yowled, but let him keep going until that silky hardness of thick cock sunk into me. It had been so long since I had been fucked that I was super tight. He leaned over me and grunted into my ear "You like getting raw-fucked with that big cock?" I nodded and grunted back at him. He pounded me until he was close and then pulled out, plopping down on the bench and pulling me down, spearing my loosened hole. I bounced up and down until he grabbed my shoulders so my ass was a few inches above his balls and pistoned into me. "I don’t pull out until I cum. Hope you’re okay with that." "FUCK YES!" I shouted, as he picked him his pace, and slammed into me a few final times. I knew he had shot his load deeper into me that I had ever bred my boy. He lifted me off of his cock and had me clean it off. That juicy cock stayed hard thanks to the cock ring, and I licked off his seed and my tangy tinny ass juice. I wondered if he had ripped me up a little. He stood up and pulled his track pants back over that glorious cock and simply walked out. It looked like an anaconda in his pants as he sauntered out. I was still squatting on the filthy floor of the booth when I saw a cock come through the hole in the wall. I sucked it down my throat, less girth and shorter than the cashier's, but still impressive. I notice a spade sign tattooed onto his crotch just at the base of his cock. I kissed it. Once I got that cock slicked up, I turned around and back onto it, swallowing it into my cummy asshole. My unseen buddy held his balls against the hole and let me fuck myself onto it. I heard him grumble, "Gonna cum, dude. You want my load in your ass?" I didn’t answer, but kept bouncing up and down until I heard him squeal and pushed back as he bred my guts. I pulled off and swallowed his cock down to the root, licking our combined wetness and swallowing it. He pulled back and stuck his mouth against the hole. "Your cock, man. I wanna suck your cock." I obliged and stuck my straining dick through the hole. He gulped and slurped until I lost my load down his throat. He swallowed it all like a champ, lustily licking his lips and gurgling as he stood up. I had an idea, and grabbed one of my business cards out of my pocket and thrust it through the hole. He took it and laughed, "We’ll be in touch." I felt more horny than ever, and was still hard. I decided it was time to get home to my boy. On the way out, I slipped my card to the cashier as well. He asked if I wanted a repeat performance, and I replied "I’d love to watch you breed my boy." "You pimping his hole out? He cute?" I showed him pics on my phone of me and my boy, some clothed and some naughty, one of my raw cock in his hole alongside my fingers. "You think he’d like my big raw dick?" I nodded and he handed me his phone to enter my number. "I’ll be in touch," he commented as I headed towards the door. I drove home, feeling those two loads oozing out of my ass. When I got home, my boy was naked, ass up in the bed. I was still wearing the cock ring, and squeezed out some seed from my ass into my hand. I worked it up and down my plump shaft and slapped it against his ass. As I did so, I saw a glob of cum work its way out. "You been fucked?" He nodded, still face down. "Was he hung?" "Like a fucking horse," he moaned into the pillow. "And you let him breed you?" He nodded again. "He NEG?" I asked, already about to blow my load. He hesitated, so I made him answer by shoving my cummy cock into his freshly-bred hole. I asked again, "IS HE NEG?’" "I didn’t ask." He moaned as I fucked him, and then turned his head around, reaching for my cock. "You feel different. Thicker. Plumper." I pulled out to show him the cock ring, slapped his ass with my dick, and diving back in, rocking my hips against his ass, pile-driving his slutty hole. Then I told him what I’d been up to. "I just took two loads at the bookstore Didn’t ask if they were NEG either." "FUUUUUUCK," he groaned into the pillow as I added "I lubed your hole with their loads." "UM HMMMM," he groaned. "So you've got three loads in your ass, and you’re about to get your fourth!" With that I bred him as deeply as I could, although admittedly not as deeply as either of the guys who had bred me at the bookstore. I pulled out and flopped down on the bed next to him. "Did you really get fucked at the bookstore?" I nodded. "Shit. I just jerked off earlier and fingered my own load into my ass to be ready for you." I laughed, thinking he was joking, but then I realized he wasn’t kidding. He knew I wasn’t either when he reached back and fingered my ass, which was still juicy and leaking seed. He brought his cummy fingers to his lips and licked them. I was still hard and he grabbed my dick, pulled me up and onto my knees, shoving my face into the pillow. He ate my ass, gobbling up as much cum as he could before slamming his face against mine, as we kissed those loads back and forth. I reached for my phone to get a pic of our cummy satisfied slutty faces and saw that there was a text. It read: ROBBY HERE. THE CLERK. U WANT ANOTHER LOAD TONIGHT? HOW ABOUT UR BOY? I CAN BREED YOU BOTH. HOPE U DON’T MIND POZ CUM. I showed it to my boy, who grinned, and grabbed the phone. He texted our address back, followed up with: WE’RE READY NOW. CUM BREED US.

Part 1: Ryan and the Scally Lads "Are you sure you want to do this?" Jared asked, absentmindedly brushing his blond hair out of his face. "Yes. Definitely.” Ryan tried to not roll his eyes. “Come on... aren't you even a little bit curious?" Jared looked at the the building in front of them. They were in a part of Manchester he hadn’t been to before. It was dark, and the object of their interest was in the basement of an old building that hadn’t served its original purpose (probably some kind of industrial space) in decades. There was a sign but the name was generic enough that neither he nor Ryan would have known what it was — a gay “sauna” — except for the ad they had seen in a magazine in one of the bars on Canal Street. "No. I've got a pretty good idea what goes on in there. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I have to be a slag. Don't you want to save yourself for someone special?" Ryan knew exactly who that "special" person for him was in Jared's mind: Jared. He and his friend were both Mormon, had been raised in the same ward (congregation), and — around the time they hit puberty — had felt drawn together. For Ryan, it was simply because they had something in common... they were both gay in a church that didn't look on that very favourably. For Jared, it was more. He believed they were "destined" to be together. Ryan had tried to let his friend down easy. Jared just wasn't his type. Even now when they had been bar hopping on Canal Street, Jared dressed like he was on a church outing. He wouldn't even drink alcohol. With his thin and hairless body he was the picture of a typical twink. He was cute but didn’t do anything for Ryan sexually. Ryan had always been attracted to rougher guys. Council estate lads who would shock his middle class Tory parents back home in Essex (if he ever told them he was gay). Crass, tough, and a bit scary. That's what got him hard. But, no matter what Ryan did or said, Jared didn't want to hear it. "I stopped believing in soulmates around the same time that I stopped calling myself a Mormon.". Ryan said. It wasn’t the first time he had said that (or something similar) to Jared but his friend still looked hurt at his words. "I'm going in. You coming?" "No. I don't think so. I'll wait for you over on Canal Street for awhile... in case you change your mind." "I won't." "Just... just be careful. Ok? Be safe. I've heard guys don't always wear condoms in places like this." It was good advice, Ryan decided. He didn't want to get sick. He was on the rowing team for the university and knew his tight body was his best feature. Well... tight body, dark hair, blue eyes... and a butt to die for. He had not yet done anything other than sucking a cock or getting sucked... but he had watched enough porn to know that he was a bottom. Which was, of course, another reason he knew there was no future for him and Jared... what were two bottoms supposed to do together? But no. He had not yet surrendered his ass. Tonight, however, he was determined to change that. Tonight, he would lose his virginity. "I’ll be safe. And thanks." He gave Jared a friendly hug, walked down the steps, and into the building. Jared waited where he stood for a couple minutes, ignoring the leering look some drunk gave him, before turning around and walking back to Canal Street and the bars. Inside, Ryan paid his admission and passed through a turnstile. He wasn’t sure what to expect... but the somewhat generic locker room wasn’t it. Still, he guessed it made sense. He knew guys walked around with nothing on but a towel ... so they needed to secure their clothes somewhere. He was pleased when he saw a couple other guys checking him out as he got undressed. They weren't his type ... but it made him hopeful he wouldn’t just be ignored. He wrapped the towel he had been given around his waist and set off to explore. Despite his bravado with Jared, and his sincere desire to have "real sex", he was nervous. How would he know a guy was interested? How would they know he wanted to get fucked? Should he tell them he was a virgin? He started with a walkthrough of the bathhouse to see what it was like... and to give himself time to calm down. There was a jacuzzi and a steam room, then showers, then a TV room. Steps led down to a short tunnel and then back up to several areas with different types of booths. Then another tunnel that led back over to the entrance from the locker room. Then, as he was turning a corner, he ran face first into a man coming in from the lockers. The man smelled like he had been working hard all day and hadn’t showered before coming to the sauna. Not dirty, just a little sweaty. He was about Ryan's age — maybe a year or two older. About 6 feet tall and lean. He had close cropped ginger hair and a nose that looked like it had been broken sometime. There was a tattoo on his hip but the towel covered almost all it it so it wasn’t clear what it was. Not a “pretty boy”... but incredibly sexy in Ryan's eyes. Ryan's dick was hard instantly. "Oi! Watch where you going, boy." "I'm so sorry. My fault. I wasn’t looking where i was going.". Ryan stammered. Two other men stepped out of the locker room, glancing at Ryan before turning to the man he had run into. "What's all this noise, you ginger cunt?" It was more banter than an actual insult. The man who spoke had 'dirty blond' hair and blue eyes. Unlike every other man Ryan had seen so far, he was wearing a pair of shiny black trackies instead of a towel and expensive looking trainers on his feet. His upper body, however, was bare. He wasn’t fat, not even remotely, but he had just a hint of a belly. Still muscled though. Just the kind of muscles you get from hard work not working out. The ginger man sneered at his two friends. "This little bitch ran into me. I think he wanted to see what a real man feels like." Ryan blushed and tried to stammer out another apology. "I think you're onto something there Scotty. Look how hard his little dick is." Ryan didn’t think his dick was "little" (it was about 5 1/2 inches) but he was hard as a rock. "Yeah. What fag boi wouldn’t be hard at the thought of this?" Scotty groped himself through the towel. Fuck! He was hung. Ryan couldn't take his eyes off what looked to be eight inches... and not yet fully hard. He just stood and stared. "You know what we have here lads?" The third man spoke for the first time. He was a bit shorter than the other two, maybe 5’ 10”, but was the most muscular of them. His hair was dark like Ryan's but his eyes were brown. "I think you've found a virgin." The ginger smiled and seemed, suddenly, to be friendly. He put his arm around Ryan's shoulder.. Ryan couldn’t stop himself from inhaling a deep breath of the man's musk and sweat. He smelled soooo good. "Is that true, boi? Are you hiding a cherry under that towel?" "Well... kinda. I mean I've sucked a guy off before." "Thats just foreplay." The guy in the trackies laughed. "If you've never had a dick in your ass, you're a virgin." Unsure what to say, Ryan just nodded. "That's shameful!". The ginger man said with mock seriousness. "I can't believe some guy hasn't claimed that prize yet. A fine piece of ass like you.” He turned to his friends and winked. “I think we should help him out lads." The other two nodded and agreed. Not even trying to hide their smiles. "You want that, boi? You want me to fix that ‘cherry problem’ of yours?" Ryan looked at the three studs who now had circled him. Like sharks. Hungry sharks. Hungry — and very sexy — sharks. He took another whiff of the ginger man’s musk... he smelled like walking sex. A wet dream come true. "Please...?" was the only word he could form. "Good boi.". The third man, the muscular one with dark hair, smiled. "I'm Troy. This... " he gestured vaguely at the guy in track pants. "... is Connor. And you probably figured out that this ginger fucker’s name is Scotty." "I'm ... I'm Ryan." He couldn’t believe his luck at meeting up with these three chavs. Or scallies as they called them here in Manchester. "Where you from, Ryan?". Connor asked as the three lads led him deep into the sauna... back to one of the areas with booths he had walked by earlier. "Essex." "Oh. We've got a posh boi here lads. Best be on good behaviour." "No. No. Really... just be yourselves. I ... um... I like it." "Just yanking your chain, boi. Relax. You here at Uni then?" Ryan nodded, delighted as they seemed to ease him into their little group. "I never had much use for school myself.” Connor said. “Too many bullshit rules.” "Enough chatter.” Scotty interrupted. “The only thing Ryan here needs to worry about right now is my popping his cherry and setting him free." Ryan blushed but his cock strained even harder under his towel. Troy opened a booth door and gestured for Ryan to enter. The booth was filled wall to wall with a large mattress (if that was the right word.... more of a big cushion or pad) which was elevated enough that they had to climb in. It was large but still a little cramped when the four of them were all in and the door closed. It hadn’t occurred to Ryan until that moment that there would be witnesses to his deflowering. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the thought but didn’t want to look like a pussy in front of these guys and ruin his chance. Troy surprised him by pulling him in for a kiss. His mouth tasted of cigarettes and beer. Ryan wasn’t crazy about smoking ... but was too turned on to care. Troy lay down to the mattress, pulling Ryan down on top of him... which served to raise his ass up a bit. Scotty pulled the university student's towel off. The ginger man leaned over on top of Ryan so he could whisper in his ear. "You've got a lovely arse here, Ry. I'm gonna love WRECKING it." Ryan looked up nervously. "Ignore him. He just likes messing with you." Connor assured him. "But... well... he IS big. Especially for your first time. I do have something that can help though..." He pulled out a small brown bottle from a pocket on his trackies. "I don’t think I want to do any drugs..." "Oh its not like that. Just poppers. They just help you relax." "I'm not sure..." "Connor is right.". Troy said beneath him. "They really will help. Just give them a quick try. If you don't like them, no harm done... right?" Ryan nodded reluctantly. He reached for the bottle but Connor shook his head. "You’d better let me hold them. The last thing you want to do is spill them down your nose. Here, just take a big sniff..." A moment later and Ryan felt warm. Like he was blushing. And then just a little woozy. But he barely noticed as Scotty buried his face in his crack and started licking his hole. "Oh. My. Fuck!". Ryan moaned. The bottle was back under his nose. "Sniff." Connor said. Ryan didn't argue. ---- Jared looked out the window of the bar. He didn't really expect Ryan to give up or come to his senses so quickly, but he hoped he would. They were perfect for each other. It was so obvious to him. He couldn't understand why Ryan didn't see it. He hoped that, by letting Ryan "sow his wild oats", he would get this nonsense out of his system and be ready to settle down as boyfriends. He took another sip of his diet cola and decided to give Ryan a bit longer to come find him. ---- Ryan was in heaven. Scotty’s tongue, and the occasional finger, was still buried in his ass and Troy’s lips were still locked with his. The poppers had left him so horny he could scream. Connor lifted his head up. “I’m feeling left out, Essex boy. Why don’t you use your mouth on this?” He pulled his trackies down with one hand, just far enough to free his dick, and with the other hand pulled Ryan’s face into his crotch. Ryan opened his mouth and swallowed the cock. It wasn’t quite as long or thick as Scotty’s but it was still the biggest he had ever had in his mouth. He couldn’t help but gag a bit. Troy had the poppers now and placed them next to his nose. “Sniff, Ryan.” Ryan obeyed. Scotty had gotten a bit more aggressive with his fingers now... but the poppers helped him handle that as well. Troy had told him that Scotty needed to stretch his hole so he could enjoy his first fuck more. Ryan just wished the ginger was more careful with his fingernails... he was feeling a bit scraped up. Then... the tongue and fingers were withdrawn. “You ready? You ready for me to pop that cherry and make you the slut you were born to be?” Ryan pulled his mouth off of Connor’s cock but Troy held him tightly enough from below that he couldn’t really turn around to look at Scotty. “Fuck me!” “Bossy little bitch, aren’t ya.” Scotty sneered. He started running his cock up and down along Ryan’s ass. “Um. You’re going to use a condom, right?” Ryan pointed to the container on the wall that held condoms and lube. “Of course, boy. The lads and I always play safe.” Ryan couldn’t tell if Scotty was being sarcastic or if that was just the way he always talked. “You shouldn’t use those condoms though.” Troy told him. “There are guys who will tamper with them. We always bring our own...so we know what condition they are in.” “Oh cool. Thank you guys.” Ryan still couldn’t turn around but he could hear the condom being opened and rolled on Scotty’s cock. “Here. Give me your hand.” Scotty ordered. Ryan reached his hand back and Scotty placed his fingers around the big — no, massive — cock that was about to penetrate him. He could feel the johnny firmly in place. He felt some cold gel applied to his hole and pushed in with a couple fingers. There was a slight tingling sensation. “Lube with a numbing effect.” Scotty told him. “Will make your first time easier.” Ryan smiled nervously. “I’m really glad my first time is with you. You making this so perfect. Thank you.” “No worries.” Connor replied. “Maybe a boy like you knows, deep down, that he needs what we have to give him.” Ryan didn’t understand but didn’t have time to think about it as he felt the invader pressing against his hole. Scotty slapped his ass. “Don’t tighten up.” “Just relax and push down on his cock.” Troy said below him. “Better fill his mouth with that dick of yours, Connor.” Scott ordered. “I think he’s going to be a loud one.” Ryan didn’t resist as Connor’s cock filled his mouth again. And he tried to push back as Troy had suggested. But it hurt. Oh fuck! It hurt. Troy held the poppers under his nose again. He sniffed deep. Scotty slapped his ass again. Harder. Much harder. Startling him. But, apparently, it was enough to make his hole spasm open... as he found Scotty had managed to push the thick head of his uncut cock in. It felt like someone had shoved a cricket bat up his ass. He tried to cry out... but with Connor’s dick in his mouth it just sounded like moans. “Oh, fuck yeah.” Scotty grunted. “Your cherry will always be mine.” “You’re doing good.” Troy assured him. “Now push back and let him get more inside.” Ryan’s eyes were watering with the pain but he did as instructed. He had done it. He had a cock in his ass. And now, despite the pain, he wanted more. Scotty was not patient but it still took several minutes before that big cock bottomed out inside him. Before he finally felt Scotty’s heavy balls slapping his ass. Scotty slowly pulled back until just the head was inside. Then back again balls deep. Out. And in. After a few minutes of this action, Scotty pulled all the way out. Ryan could feel Scotty’s hands behind him, doing something. He had a moment of panic... was Scotty taking the condom off? He reached back but could still feel the condom there. “Don’t worry, slut. The condom was just sliding a bit... so I’m pulling it on me tighter. “ And then the cock was back in. Thrusting in. And sliding out. A few minutes later and Scotty pulled out again. He rubbed some more lube in Ryan’s hole. Connor leaned over Ryan, looking at his friend’s cock with a smile. “You’d better pull the condom REALLY tight. Make sure it stays on.” Ryan could feel Scotty’s hands stretching the condom tight behind him. After a moment Scotty groaned slightly. “Fuck yeah. Just like that.” Connor said with a smile. As the cock went in, Ryan decided the extra lube was really helping. This felt amazing. Better than it had just a moment or two earlier. Still, he reached back, trying to be subtle. The cock was deep in his hole but he could still feel the base of the condom so he breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m starting to think you don’t trust me, boi.” “I’m sorry, I’m just nervous.” “Shhh.” Connor said. “Just get that mouth back on my cock.” Ryan did but couldn’t really focus on it. Connor, however, seemed content to just let it sit there for now. Scotty’s thrusts were getting stronger. More erratic. The cock seeming to swell up even more inside him. Every man knows what that means. Instinctively, Ryan started pushing back harder. Into the fuck. And was rewarded. “Yeah. You’re pushing me over the edge! Here it cums, you slut.” Scotty kept thrusting as he came before finally collapsing on Ryan’s back. His breath escaping in ragged bursts. After a few moments he pulled himself out of the hole and sat up. Connor withdrew his cock from Ryan’s mouth and Troy released his hold, allowing the student to sit up slightly and look around. Scotty had already wrapped his towel around his waist and was throwing the used condom in a small trash can in the corner. Ryan could just see the tip of the tattoo under the towel and again wondered what it was. Scotty smirked. “Looks like I may have used too much lube. It’s dripping out of you.” Connor moved behind him. “Yeah, man. That is a lot of ‘lube’. It would be a shame to let that go to waste.” He started rubbing his cock against Ryan’s hole. It took the student a moment to realise what Connor wanted. “Um. I don’t know. I’m a little sore.” “Oh come on.” Troy frowned. “We’ve helped you lose your cherry. Surely you wouldn’t hold out on us, would you? Besides, neither of our cocks is as big as what you’ve already taken. You’ll be fine.” “You both want to fuck me?” “Well not at the same time. I don’t think you’re ready for that. Yet.” Troy winked up at him. Ryan had to admit the cock rubbing against his hole was feeling good. “You have more condoms, right?” “Oh, yeah. Lots more. Just like the last one.” “Let’s do it.” Ryan thought Connor’s grunt as he slipped into his no-longer-virgin ass was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. Connor’s style was so different than Scotty’s had been. Where Scotty had thrust deliberately in and out, Connor’s were more like a rabbit fuck. Short but very fast thrusts. He didn’t want to insult the guys again, so he didn’t let himself reach around to feel for the condom. He had heard Connor opening it and say he had put it on. Why would he lie? Meanwhile, Troy kept kissing him, rubbing his nipples and dick, and giving him the poppers. Scotty was sitting in the corner watching them all while playing with his now soft cock. Connor reached the point of no return much quicker than Scotty had. “Fuck yeah. You little slut. Your fucking tight hole is going make me shoot.” Ryan realised he liked when they talked dirty to him. It was like he was in one of the pornos he watched online. “Yeah. Do it. Fuck me like a slut.” “Damn. That was so fucking hot to watch.” Scotty said a couple minutes later as Connor pulled out of Ryan. “Yeah, you dirty fucker.” Connor bantered with the redhead. “I know you get off on watching me fuck. You just wish it was your ass I was pegging.” “In your dreams.” Scotty sneered. “Looks like I used too much lube as well. Look at it flowing out of him now.” It was strange, Ryan couldn’t remember Connor adding more lube. He didn’t worry too much about it though. It was Troy’s turn. Troy’s style was completely different from the other two fucks. If Ryan had to describe it, he would say it was gentle. Almost romantic. It took Troy much longer to cum that the first two but he did eventually collapse on Ryan’s back after his cock spasmed deep inside him. “Damn.” He said as he pulled out. “It looks like we all used a little much ‘lube’. Your hole is a mess. Looks like you might have bled a little as well.” Ryan sat up and felt his ass. “Really?” “Don’t worry, it sometimes happens. Especially your first time. It will heal up in a day or two. Nothing to worry about.” Ryan nodded. His ass really was a mess. Whatever lube they had used was running out of his (now far less tight) hole and down his ballsack. “That was fun, slut.” Scotty said. “Welcome to the club.” “The club?” “Yeah. The former virgin club I mean.” Scotty sneered at him. It was a bit scary. But very sexy. “I doubt this will be the last time you get fucked. Will it?” “No. I liked it. I really liked it.” “Fuck yeah you did.” Connor added, pulling his trackies up. “You’ve worn the three of us out.” He opened the door. There were a few men outside listening to the action who looked in the opening door. Their hungry looks made Ryan blush. “Hope to catch you soon for a repeat.” Troy smiled. “We need to make sure that hole is well and truly broken in.” After they left, Ryan pulled the door closed but there was no latch. He should go, he told himself. If he knew Jared, he was still in a bar waiting for him. But he was so drained. He needed to rest for a few minutes first. He flipped the light switch off, laid down on his belly (his butthole was pretty sore now), and closed his eyes. Just for a minute he told himself... right before he fell asleep. He woke with a start as he felt someone move on top of him. “What the fu...” “Shhh, boy.” A stranger’s voice said to him. “I saw you in here with your juicy ass in the air and I could see what you want.” A hard cock pressed against his hole. He was so sore... but it felt so good. He pushed back and let it enter him. The stranger didn’t feel very fit or toned but, in the darkness, Ryan could ignore that. The stranger used him hard. Both of them grunting in exertion, thrusting together. Until the stranger came and pulled out. “Thanks.” Was all the stranger said as he got off Ryan and climbed out of the booth. In the light from the corridor, Ryan had saw him for the first time. The stranger looked to be about 60 with a flabby belly and a saggy ass. That was the moment he realised that had never seen the stranger put on, or take off, a condom. Had the old man just fucked him bare? Ryan was ashamed. He felt... dirty. Truly slutty. And not in a good way. He hurried out of the booth himself. He didn’t even stop to shower on the way to the lockers. Five minutes later he was out the door and back on the street. He didn’t think he could face Jared right now. He headed home telling himself he would talk to his friend tomorrow. He hurried into his apartment and to the toilet. Trying to push out anything inside him. But he didn’t see anything but more lube like Scotty, Connor, and Troy left behind. He breathed a sigh of relief. His phone rang. Jared. Not tonight he decided. He would talk to Jared tomorrow. He turned his phone off and took a shower. —— It was past closing time. Jared shivered in the cold night air outside the bars as he slipped his phone back in his pocket. He never should have let Ryan go into that place. He had been gone for hours and now wasn’t answering his phone. There was only one thing to do. He would have to go in and find his friend and get him out of there. NEXT: Jared and the jock

It must of been about 1988, i just turned 21 and was enjoying the scene of gay life in Phoenix.....I had a great group of friends that I hung out with and most of the time we would hang out at Preston's. It was a good club, no old guys, no bear, just guys around our age...There was always good music, great drinks, and hot guys to hook up with...Most of my friends were in college like me so Monday through Friday we were busy studying and attending classes...So the time to party and have fun was Friday and Saturday nights.. As school was nearing the end I didnt have the time to go out on the weekends to party with my friends...My focus was on my studies as it was drawing near the end of the year. I told myself once classes are over I can enjoy the summer and have fun. I was sure that most of my friends were doing the same thing. The last week of classes were finally here, I felt like was prepared for the challenge of the exams..I spent the last two weeks studying and applying myself so I felt i was ready....Once i finished my last class i figured it's ME time and that I need to go out and enjoy the weekend with my friends...We planned to meet at Preston's around 9pm and have some fun...As I pulled into the parking lot it was packed there was no parking to be found...My eye's lite up as i thought about the prospects the night has to offer. Finally I saw two guys walking out together hand in hand heading towards a car, I thought to myself this guy is going to get lucky and i will get their parking spot. As they pulled out I swung into their parking spot. I walked up showed the bouncer my ID and immediately went to the bar to grab a drink. I was in luck it was my favorite bartender, he waived and called out Spencer, I glanced over and smiled at him....He asked the usual Spence, I quickly replied yep you know me all to well...he just smiled and said like to know more of you one of these days...I got my drink and started my quest to find my group of friends....As usual they were over by the dance floor drinking and moving to the beat of the music.. we chatted about our classes and compared notes on how well or how poorly we did on our final exams....As we were talking the song West End Girls came on and Tommy immediately started jumping up and down and pulled us out onto the dance floor. Tommy was a total Pet Shop Boys fan....As I was dancing with my friends and looking around I thought to myself I have a great life and a good group of friends, I am a lucky guys. I was also checking out the guys to see who peeked my interest, looking around I saw the usual group of guys mostly college kids, until he walked in, this guy looks to be around late 20's maybe early 30's and was built looked like some of the guys that played football on my college team...I stood there in a trance starring at this guy, i couldnt help myself I was drawn into him. He looked towards me smiled and winked, OH SHIT he caught me staring at him, what do i do....I thought....I looked away, maybe he smiled and winked at someone else....I figure another glance wont hurt, so I looked over again and this time he waived at me....I was in shock this guy was interested in me...Now i dont think of myself a drop dead gorgeous guy but im not ugly either...I am just an average college guy some would say a typical preppy twink...I felt these arms grab me around the waist and hold unto me, earth to Spence, are you there buddy? it was Tommy he caught me staring at the new guy in the bar...I think he's lost this doesnt look like his type of crowd, can you look at the way he's dressed geez this guy has no style...Hey give him a break, he's new here, he's actually kind of cute and with that I felt a tap on my shoulder and a voice saying Hi..I turned around and it was the guy we were just talking about...I smiled and said Hi, he stuck out his hand and said I'm Randy, I grabbed his hand and introduced myself as Spencer..Pleasure to meet you Spencer, care to dance...I said Sure, we danced for a bit and then he signaled me to follow him over to the bar..I looked back at my friends and Tommy gave me this "what the hell are you doing" look...I just smiled back at them...As we got to the bar he ordered us drinks and said let's go out on the patio where it's quieter, so we headed out to the patio, it was also easier to breathe as smoking was allowed inside the clubs...During our conversation I found that he was from Phoenix, was in his third year of college, and works with his family at their business. He was studying business. As I was sharing information about me he leaned over and planted a kiss on my lips. I was there in shock, he pulled away and apologized for moving in and kissing me...I told him No, it's okay I was just not prepared for that...He offered to try again, this time i was prepared as i felt his tongue move into my mouth I was in heaven, this guy was totally into me...we were deep in kiss, when we heard this Geez Spence go get a room, it was Tommy and the rest of my friends.. Randy looked at me and said I think I need to go....would like to see you again....I replied I would like that....With that Randy left the club....Tommy piped in Spence we were looking for you and worried that something happened....

Was horny as fuck tonight . So I cleaned myself out and then pushed my buttplug into my ass to get the inside of my hole loosened up and well lubed . Then off to the bookstore to find some random cock and cum . I went into a booth and not 30 seconds later there was a horny fucker knocking on the door , I opened it up and let him in . After making out for a few minutes I reached for my poppers and dropped to my knees to get his nice uncut precut leaking cock nice and hard to give what I needed . After he was good and hard I stood up and turned around and bent over to present my cunt to him . He ate my ass for a few minutes then started rubbing his uncut covered cock head on my hole . I begged him to fuck him like a good slut should ! He easily slipped his cock into my prelubed hole and went balls deep. His clock felt so good stretching my fuckhole that I let out a huge moan that apparently got the attention of other horny fuckers in the booth area, before long the door was open and three guys were watching him use my raw hole while jerking their cocks. After a few minutes he sunk balls deep and unloaded his unknown status seed into my fuckhole. God I love the feeling of a pulsing cock filling me with warm seed. After he finished the other three all took their turns on my cum filled hole and all dumped their questionable loads onto me while calling me a slut and a whore . I love being talked to like that while my hole is stretched around a raw cock . So it was 4 unknown loads deep in my hole and one happy fucking cum slut leaking loads out of his ass. Random unknown loads make a happy little whore

I want a man to exploit my cunt with a total focus on his own pleasure. He uses me as a vagina substitute when he doesn’t have easy access to an adequate female, or for variety if he doesn’t get to fuck her throat and rectum or get nasty with her. I much prefer that his seed has been proven potent by successful impregnatiions (though I don’t care if they’re children; studs get credit for abortions, too). Whether he thinks of himself as normal or admits to a little bisexuality, he should be pumping his loads into fertile wombs regularly. Raw vaginal access is a fundamental measure of male power.

https://www.xtube.com/video-watch/persian-twink-over-loaded-34666101 PERSIAN TWINK OVER LOADED Persian youngster loaded bareback by several tops in cheap hotel... https://www.xtube.com/video-watch/daddy-son-3-sum-34658511 DADDY SON 3 SUM I met this hot, married daddy on the scruff app and have been seeing him on and off for a little while whenever he can get away. One night I decided to have one of my young bros over to join us for some hot Bareback play. I play bottom as each of them take turns deepthroating, mounting me & fucking my bare hole til thy blow their thick loads. Enjoy

Part 3 Rob had worked up a thirst after that last fuck; it was time to check out another bar. That was another great thing about the French Quarter; the bars were always open and you could actually walk down the street with a drink in your hand. He didn’t usually start drinking this early in the day but he was on vacation after all. Alcohol never really seemed to affect Rob’s ability to get rock hard and fuck as long as he didn’t get all shit-faced drunk. He was confident that he could pace himself and be able to keep drinking all day. On a day like today, Rob was happy to find an open bar stool underneath a ceiling fan and close to the open front of the building. This was a perfect view of the street and he also was on display basically for anyone that passed by. “Welcome, my name is Jesse, what can I get you to drink?” “Hey man, my name is Rob; give me a Jack and Coke”. Rob was pleasantly surprised, the bartender Jesse was a masculine looking guy with a nice ass and defined body. Rob detected a few tattoos and could see the nipple rings under his tight T-shirt so Jesse was a little rougher looking than the guys he typically fucked but he’d make an exception in this case. He did get the impression that Jesse was probably another one of those gays that try to pawn themselves off as versatile but in reality was a slutty bottom. He could tell by the way Jesse carried himself. In Rob’s mind, you were either a bottom destined to suck cock, get fucked and just be used or you were a Top like himself. Guys were just fooling themselves if they thought there was something in between. “Here you go Rob, where you visiting from?” asked Jesse as he slid Rob his drink on the bar. “Ohio, is it that obvious I am a visitor?” Jesse just smiled and said “Well I have worked here for a long time and pretty much recognize the locals. Right now there are six locals in here and including you, eight visitors.” “It is also obvious that you aren’t used to this heat and humidity based on the way your tank is clinging to your pecs and the way those shorts are sticking to your ass cheeks and crotch”. Rob was a little taken back by how direct Jesse was speaking. Two can play at that game he thought. “Well then can you also tell who is a Top and who is bottom? What is my position?” Jesse started laughing, “Easy, we bartenders have to be observant here in the Big Easy. It’s obvious from the way you have basically checked out ass since the minute you sat down, including mine, that you are all Top”. Rob just grinned and nodded, this guy was good. Jesse continued, “I’m sorry to disappoint you though, I’m also a Top. It’s why I like to work this shift, it gives me time to make connections and then play all night”. Rob raised his glass, “A toast to stalking your prey” and with that chugged down the rest of his drink. Almost immediately Jesse poured another drink and placed it in front of Rob. Jesse motioned over his right shoulder “This drink, as well as the first, is compliments of the two guys over there by the cash register, they ordered them for you the minute you walked into the place”. Rob looked up and nodded but made no further eye contact with the strangers. He leaned in and whispered to Jesse “I can do better than that, it’s going to take more than buying me drink or two for those old queen cocksuckers to get in my shorts”. Jesse was not surprised by the comment at all. He also was not surprised as Rob turned slightly toward the two men and slightly flexed his arms while casually running his hands across his chest and pinching his nipples until they hardened and strained against the damp material of his shirt. He then turned his back to the men and looked out to the street for something more worthy of his attention. It did feet good to sit out the sun, casually drink and be lusted after by all the bottoms in the bar. It was the way things should be. When Jesse came back to refill his drink, Rob commented “ There seems to be a lot of activity in this bar for this time in the afternoon and I seem to be in a good spot as they all walk by me wiggling their asses to check me out up close and try to get my attention”. “You do seem to be drawing them into the place“, replied Jesse with just a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “ Maybe you should be splitting your tips with me with all the business I am bringing you. Don’t worry man, there is plenty of bottom prey here to divide between us” chuckled Rob as he raised his hand to high-five the bartender. It was at the moment that Rob’s phone vibrated indicating he had a message. He actually had several notifications from his cruising apps. Some of them must have come through earlier when he was plowing that tourist in the hotel room. An evil grin spread across his face as he thought about the fun he had using his cock to tear open” what’s-his-name’s” hole. Rob quickly scanned the responses to his profile postings to see if there was anything of interest. There were several from BBRT but the latest post from A4A is what caught his attention. According to the Geo-location feature, the cocksucker was only a few feet away. The pic didn’t show his ass but the face wasn’t bad. He had nice thick “cock-sucker lips”. Rob glanced around the bar briefly and quickly spotted the guy, literally less than ten feet away. Although Rob could tell the picture posted on the profile was actually the guy in the bar, the picture was not recent. The guy sitting there certainly was several years older than the picture and also had gotten soft. Rob was about to delete and ignore the message when two letters in the interest section of the profile caught his eye -“WS”. Rob downed the rest of his latest drink like a shot, glared briefly at the guy and typed a simple response “THIRSTY”? “Hey Jesse, where is the bathroom in this place, I need to piss” inquired Rob. Jesse pointed him to the back and Rob promptly got up and headed to relieve himself. The bathroom was long, narrow, dimly lit and pretty filthy. It mainly consisted of a long trough for guys to piss in and a stained sink. “They need some sort of air circulation in here” thought Rob as he made his way to the end of the trough. The room reeked, even with the ice that was thrown in the piss trough to control the smell. None the less, Rob’s cock was hardening as he turned toward the door and started counting to himself. He got to seven, the door pushed open and the guy from A4A nervously walked in. Rob opened the front of his cargo shorts and freed his hard cock. The guy bent over to taste the object of his desire when Rob grabbed him by the hair and said “No cocksucker; on your knees and open your fucking mouth. Whatever you don’t swallow is going all over the front of you”. With that he grabbed the guy by both ears, slammed his cock deep into the wet hole of a mouth and started streaming his warm piss down the cocksucker’s throat. The guy struggled with the strong stream but managed to swallow most of it: only a small amount dribbled out the sides of his mouth. “You’re just a fucking urinal hole to hold my piss”, sneered Rob. He emptied his bladder and pulled his cock out of the piss receptacle kneeling in front of him. He then wiped the last drops of piss clinging to his cock off on the guy’s hair, tucked it into his pants, zipped up and went back to the bar. When he got to the bar and sat back down, he ordered another Jack and Coke as if nothing had happened. Jesse however, gave him a knowing look when Rob’s recent conquest exited the restroom and quickly headed out of the bar in an effort to not have to explain to anyone as to why the knees of his faded jeans were now so stained and wet. When Jesse returned with his drink, Rob asked” Where is a good place around here to buy leather and fetish gear”? Jesse raised his eyebrow “What are you looking for?” Rob explained that he only had a few pieces and those didn’t fit right. “I don’t have a lot of local options available back in Ohio, and the stuff I’ve ordered on-line hasn’t really worked out. I’m sure you know how the sight of a Top in leather or latex gear just brings out the whore in a bottom.” Jesse nodded in agreement. ”It’s almost like giving them a party drug, so I was thinking maybe some shorts, jocks, a harness or two. I really just want to try some stuff on to see how it looks before making a decision.” ”Some bondage gear as well so when I get an ass primed and partied up I can just keep it in place and positioned how I want and then just focus on my pleasure rather than making sure the fucking whore doesn’t resist and try to get away.” “Probably the best place for you to go is “Master Nick’s”, it’s just a couple blocks from here” Jesse quickly replied. ”I’ve bought some great stuff from there. Its high quality and they have a big variety. They are good at helping you transform into your true self. They do have a space to demo some of the equipment there as well. They carry everything from cuffs, collars and spreader bars to stocks, fuck benches and bondage tables in the store”. Rob was getting hard just thinking about the place as Jesse gave him directions to the store. As Rob stood and prepared to leave, Jesse had one more question. “Before you go, would it be cool for me to get a selfie with you” asked Jesse. “I like to keep reminders of some of the hot guys that come through here.” Rob of course in his mind interpreted that question as meaning he was correct all along and Jesse really was a bottom and did want Rob’s cock up his ass. So when the bartender came around the bar to take the selfie Rob smiled, flexed and grabbed Jesse’s ass. Trying not to sound too insincere, Jesse looked Rob directly in the eyes and stated, “Thanks for the picture stud, I am sure you enjoy the transformational experience at "Master Nick's" stop by on your way back from store and let me know what you bought.” “I’m here until seven-thirty tonight.” Rob smirked and nodded his agreement as he headed to the exit. As soon as Rob disappeared down the street, Jesse went to his phone and texted a message and attached the selfie with Rob he just took. “Sending a referral to the store that I think you’ll like. He definitely has the cocky top attitude you look for”

Ended up with 5 loads for the night demos dudes off Grindr. I take most of my loads in an anonymous setting; ass up, face down, door unlocked and the lights dim or completely off. The first dude was a regular that lives a block away. He knows the drill and comes over freeballing in basketball shorts and a tank. He’s an older latino stud with a huge 8 in dick. I heard him come thru the front door and i took a huge hit of poppers. He dropped his shorts and rammed his cock up my hole. My head was already spinning and he was in a rhythm. 5 minutes later he’s moaning and talking in Spanish and I know he’s unloading in me. He slaps my ass, pulls up his shorts and leaves. The second dude is a complete stranger. He’s white and hairy with a hard dad bod. I tell him the set up and he’s over within 10 minutes. He pulls out his cock thru his jeans, still clothed, and rubs his flaccid cock in my ass crack. He gets hard, spits on his cock and slowly slides in. He starts stroking and i hear him ask, “Where do you want my seed?!” I tell him to breed me and he starts unloading and his body is twitching. He pulls out and rubs off the cum and wipes it on my ass. The third guy is a student at ASU that was shopping nearby at the mall. He’s a latino mixed and pretty toned. He hit me up and I sent him my address immediately and he’s down. I didn’t even see his cock. He gets to the door and when he gets inside he was nervous but eventually starts playing with my ass. I didn’t tell him I was pre-bred but I say I’m already lubed up. He gets completely naked and starts sliding in and he’s moaning. He gets balls deep and stops and grabs my waist and pulls out. He tells me that he came and my ass was too wet for him to last. He laughs and leaves. The next guy is a dude I’ve hooked up with before. He’s tall, slim and very good looking. His cock is uncut and really sensitive but he takes too long to cum so I don’t invite him over anymore but tonight I was hungry. He’s up in my apartment in a few minutes and we 69 to get started. He’s sucking the loads out of my ass and I’m tasting his precum. I start riding his face and he tells me he wants to add another load to my hole. He pushes me over and my head is hanging over the bed with my ass in his control on the bed. He pins me at my waist and starts drilling me, going all the way out and back in. He’s drilling me for about 45 minutes and I’m enjoying him being in control and me helpless. He puts the bottle of poppers under my nose and I take a long double hit and he takes a hit. I know he’s about to cum when he does that so I clinch my ass and that sends him over the edge. He moans and groans a lot as his cock is overly sensitive inside my hole. He collapses then quickly dresses and leaves. It was bittersweet for him to leave because I wanted him to cum sooner but I want him to keep moaning and fucking as I was close to getting off. The last dude of the night was a lyft driver close to my apartments. His profile pic showed off his smooth abs and pecs with some scruffy facial hair. I send him my ass pics and tell him I have some loads in. He asks for my address and sends his dick pics and he’s 7 in uncut and thick. We don’t exchange face pics and he tells me to be waiting for a pump n dump. I obey and he shows up. I can hear him stroking in the distance, he comes closer and touches my hole. I hear him say, “damn this pussy is wet.” I start stroking as he starts dirty talking and sliding in. He gets balls deep and tells me to hit my poppers so he can wreck my ass. I’m high in the next moments and every deep stroke is ecstasy. He’s pounding relentlessly and reaches around to my cock and starts stroking me in between his fingers. I don’t want him to stop but I’m trying to hold back to cum at the same time as him. But I let him know I’m about to bust and I cum all over his hand. I can tell he’s turned on by getting me off and his thrusts get harder and his breathing gets quicker. He yells that he’s cumming and i could feel his thick cock pulsing. He tells me how hot my ass is as he pulls up his pants and leaves. I never saw his face and don’t know anything about him but I have his load in my ass and that’s all I cared about.

Yesterday afternoon... I was doing my HIV outreach & testing at the bathhouse... was the end of the afternoon and gave the last "client" his negative results... he leaned in to give me a thank you hug and kiss I gave him tongue and slipped my hand in his towel... he bent me over and quickly gave me his load.. A hot Panamanian uncut cock and a BIG LOAD :-)

Part 19 I was pulled into the middle of the bed and felt the weight of more people around me, my body was craving contact. “Two in his hole at a time. Dump your load and make way for the next cock, don’t take your time he’s got a lot of cock to get through!” Tom said as the men made their way towards me. I felt my body being lifted and turned, I was on all fours, barely able to support myself I felt someone lying underneath me and another behind my ass. Without a moment to think both men began to force themselves into my ass. The feeling was indescribable. I’d never felt so stretched. Both men had pierced cocks and I could feel my ass being torn up as the both began to find their pace for fucking me. I’d never been double penetrated and with the drugs coursing through my veins, I wanted more. I began to relax and enjoy being stretched out. With a hard thrust the guy behind me unloaded in my ass and was quickly replaced by a smaller but fatter cock, again pierced. The pattern continued and occasionally both men would cum at the same time. Giving me a couple of minutes before the abuse continued. My rubber suit was filled with sweat and I could have passed out from the heat but I was too high to notice. I just craved more, I’d truly been turned into a cum slut. After about 10 rounds I felt the familiarity of Daddy’s cock pushing its way into my hole, he was underneath me, I let my weight fall on him and he held me tight while the cock from behind battered my now bruised hole. “Good boy, you’re making daddy proud. Only one more round after this and it’s over with.” Tom said while holding me close to him. Tom pushed me back and the guy behind me grabbed my body to keep me upright. “You’re a tough little boy, you’ve done better than I thought you would.” It was Brian, he and Tom were both buried deep in me and I didn’t want it to stop. They fucked me together for what felt like half an hour, cum was running down my legs and I could hear the slapping of their balls as they both men brought themselves close to breeding me again. My hole was being destroyed yet all I could think was more! Brian came first, his load was so big I felt it shoot from his cock inside me. Tom quickly came afterwards, still with Brian’s cock in me. My ass felt full and very wet! Tom pulled me close to him as Brian removed his cock, it wasn’t replaced with anyone else. It was only Daddy in me now. He pulled my face up to his and kissed me deeply, it made me even more horny, if that was possible. Tom broke off our kiss and whispered into my ear; “Last round boy, don’t give up now, this one won’t be easy” I hadn’t thought any of this had been easy, what would be happening next. Tom held me close and rolled me over onto my back and pulled his cock out from my tired hole. I began to feel dizzy and sick again, my fever must have been sky high and the room was spinning. Tom again addressed the room, there must have only been about 10 guys left, who knew what time it was, I was completely unaware of anything except the cum running out of my ass. “Right gents last round. Arse to Elbow”

Sometimes I can go for days/weeks without thinking about sex. But, there's other times when my libido is in overdrive; and, getting cock/cum are just about all I can think about. Here's the rundown of my 3-day Easter Weekend of cock: 1. Friday night, took 2 loads from a fuck buddy. (He invited a friend over, and they both 'tag-teamed' my hole. 2. Saturday night, took 2 loads from 5 cocks at Slammers LA. 3. Sunday afternoon, took 4 loads from 8 cocks at a sex party in Van Nuys. (The last two guys (#7/#8) of that afternoon had thick, fat dicks. Didn't think I could handle anymore meat, but I took their fucking juicy loads like a champ). Hope you all had a nice weekend, boys--I sure did.

Part 2 Rob awoke refreshed but horny. His throbbing morning wood reminded him it would need some attention soon. First however, he needed to hit the gym and pump up. That extra testosterone would make him even more horny and ready to fuck, but based on the action he got last night he was confident it would be no problem to get some release later in the day. The hotel gym was small but adequate for a quick workout to pump up his muscles and clear his head. There was only one other person in the gym, some middle age business type. Rob knew the type as soon as he saw the wedding ring on his finger and the frequent stares at him as he worked his pecs on the machine. “Geez these married guys, they are so obvious about wanting my cock they can’t even stare discreetly”. Well time for a show; Rob stood up and casually gripped his crotch and rubbed it allowing the big outline of his cock to show thru the thin gym shorts. Rob thought the guy’s eyeballs would pop out of his head and was sure he saw a trace of drool as “Mr. Married Businessman’s” jaw dropped. Maybe some other time thought Rob, I’m sure I can do much better. He grabbed his towel and left the gym to go back to his room and shower. After his shower, Rob checked his phone and had several message from the various hookup apps. He had forgotten he had posted a travel ad to both A4A and BBRT. He quickly scanned the responses; they were the usual quick messages indicating they’d love to play while he was in town. Funny there was one response on BBRT from a cocksucker that said he so enjoyed sucking out his load in the bathroom of Rawhide and he love to do it again. Rob did not recognize the guy from his posted pics at all, but then again he only saw most of his cocksuckers last night from the top of their heads slurping down his cock. Rob quickly replied; ”Sure, see you later this weekend, I’ll look for you on your knees”. He was about to log off his phone when he got a message notification, this one from A4A. It was another New Orleans tourist looking for some fun. The profile wasn’t bad, the guy was 25, masculine looking and according to his location he was close. Rob responded asking him to unlock his private photos as he unlocked his own private pics of his hard cock. “Nice bubble ass!”. Rob could almost feel the guy blush. The guy’s name was Matt and he was visiting from Texas, his profile said he was a versatile top and only played safe but Rob knew he could get the guy to rethink that. Soon they had arranged to meet face to face at the bar OZ a short distance from them both. “We can just grab a drink and get to know each other “ Matt implied. Rob thought “Yeah right, the only thing that I’m going to get to know is the inside of your tight ass with my raw cock”. It was going to be a hot humid day in New Orleans so no need for any underwear; he threw on a pair of well-fitting cargo shorts, a revealing white tank and a pair of flip flops. He was out the door in 5 minutes and on his way to Oz. Matt matched his profile pics well so when he walked up to Rob he knew immediately who is was. He was possibly a bit shorter than the 5’9” his profile professed but with a little bubble ass like that it didn’t matter. Matt clearly took care of his body but he wasn’t a muscle stud like Rob. Now was the part of the chase that Rob hated, the small talk and pleasantries before they could get down to action. “Do you wanna party and flip fuck” Matt finally quietly asked. “Sounds good what you got to play with?” replied Rob. “I have some Molly with me if you want to sneak into the bathroom, then we can head to my hotel and play”. So off to the bathroom they went. Matt handed Rob a pill and then swallowed one himself with a quick chug of water. Rob took the pill and with a small slight of hand acted like he swallowed it but actually pocketed the pill for later. He figured it could be useful at a later time. By the time they got to Matt’s hotel, Rob could tell from his eyes that Matt was starting to fly. Once in the room Matt had definitely lost his shyness and quickly stripped and was fondling Rob’s ass and cock. As Rob stripped he pushed Matt to the bed and stuck his cock into Matt’s awaiting mouth. He wasn’t a bad cocksucker but he needs to take it deeper thought Rob. He then started forcing his fat cock farther down Matt’s throat.. He gagged but Rob was persistent, he did want to pace himself though and save his load for that bubble ass. When Matt finally came up for air he said “Suck my cock too, let’s 69”. Rob begrudgingly wet his hand and stroked Matt’s cock. It was a decent cock, about 7” although not very thick. “Hey buddy, why don’t do a shot of tequila from that bottle you have over there and really get down and dirty?”. Rob nodded in agreement so Rob removed his shorts from around his ankles and went to pour some shots into a couple of cups. For Matt’s shot though he had an extra surprise, the other Molly tablet. Using the tequila bottle he quickly crushed the pill and while blocking Matt’s view by giving him a view of his clenched ass, he swept the drug into a cup and added tequila. He poured himself a shot as well. “Bottom’s up!” grinned Rob. Rob then straddled Matt and placed his ass in his face. “Get my hole ready buddy – start licking”. Wow, the tongue eating his hole felt so great he was dazed for a moment but then moved his hand to his prize, he needed to feel that tight puckered pink hole that was ripe for the taking. He slid his finger in and Matt let out a slight yelp. “There’s lube and condoms in the nightstand drawer”. There was no way he was going to use a condom but a little lube would be useful. As Rob roughly worked 3 fingers into Matt’s ass he shifted and pushed his cock back into Matt’s mouth. It was almost show time. Rob could tell by the mouth on his cock that Matt was really flying and almost completely out of it by this time. SUCCESS!. Rob flipped Matt on his stomach and propped his ass up with a pillow and spread his legs to give him full and easy access to his hole. “Condom” Matt whined. “Of course buddy” Rob reached grabbed a condom and ripped it open. He dropped the open wrapper next to Matt’s face so he could see it and paused a moment rubbing the condom between his finger to make it sound like he was actually rolling it on his cock. On second thought, he did ask nicely so maybe I should give him a condom fuck Rob thought with an evil grin, so he barely put the condom on the tip of his fat mushroom cockhead and with that pushed the head into Matt’s awaiting ass. Even in Matt’s drugged state, that cock felt like it was splitting him open. He cried out at the invasion, “More lube, pull it out!”. “You’re a noisy little bottom slut aren’t you? You need to keep it down a little” Rob said as he shoved Matt’s underwear into his open mouth and placed a pillow over his head. “There that’s better”. He then pulled out his cock. Magically the condom was gone, lodged somewhere just inside Matt’s ass. He spit on the open hole in front of him and then again on his cock. “There’s your extra lube” he sarcastically said as he thrust the entire 8” ball’s deep into Matt’s ass. Matt bucked violently but he was no match for Rob’s strength that was pinning him down and soon he was quietly moaning as Rob deep fucked his hole. This guy’s ass was sweet, he loved how it gripped his cock and the sound of his balls slapping against the pale white cheeks was like music to his ears. Thirty minutes later he felt his balls churn and he shot a load deep in Matt’s ass. As he pulled out Matt actually felt empty and could feel the air conditioned hotel air rush in to his stretched abused hole. Rob could see Matt was still conscious by the way he wiggled his ass. It was almost like he was begging for round two. Matt’s ass looked a bit loose from the pounding it just took, but Rob thought “What the hell, my cock is hard again so might as well take advantage, this slut needs to learn he was meant to be a bottom”. So with that thought he fucked Matt in every position possible for another hour and gave him 2 additional loads then jumped in the shower to clean up. Matt rolled on his side and reached back to feel and finger his abused hole. A look of horror showed in his eyes as he realized it was gaping and that there was a mixture of cum and blood leaking out of it. As Rob went to leave he saw Matt’s dazed look and simply said “Don’t worry buddy, that really is Neg cum, I only Top. This will give you something to think about when you play next time now that you’ve realized what a pussy boy bottom you are”. “Oh and at some point in time you will probably find that condom, it's lodged deep in your ass somewhere, enjoy the rest of your vacation” With that Rob walked out the door.

12. Veracruz Para bailar la bamba, Para bailar la bamba, Se necesita una poca de gracia One week after the townhouse fire, they were anchored off the coast of Virginia, and Mike was done, had had it. The End. Flash disclaimers: no animals were harmed in the making of this film; all actors were eighteen or older at the time of production. Roll credits. He swam out to sea, far enough so he couldn’t make it back. Not a great plan, but he didn’t need a plan that was great, just one that would do the job. He swam away from the yacht as far as he could till he couldn’t see it anymore, then swam some more. This wasn’t the way he wanted the rest of his life to be. He wouldn’t let anyone touch him. Not Ben. Not Chris. He didn’t even want to be seen. The one thing the orderly Barkley got right, he was a freak. He swam for miles. The yacht had long vanished, the coastline gone hours ago, his arms were finally growing tired. Still he swam. He’d go till he hit England or France or whatever the fuck was on the other side of the Atlantic. He was getting more than tired. He was getting delirious. Desperate, he wanted to rid himself of life, wanted to shit it out of his body like diarrhea, vomit it out like bad Little Neck clams. He managed seroconverting years ago, it was sketchy time but became manageable, something he sealed a bargain with and could live alongside. But this wasn’t something manageable, something he could live with. This made him not him. He swam harder. Furiously faster. Further out. Not a chance of returning. How much longer could he keep it up? If nothing else it was becoming tedious. He was bored killing himself. He could feel himself shiver, and yet it was July, after the Fourth for god sakes, but he was cold nonetheless. Maybe the cold would kill him first before he drowned. He wished he could stop thinking. The time for thinking was over. Thinking was overrated. Still he swam, one arm in front of the other, one kick and then another. Exhaustion kept at bay, but he could feel it creeping up on him like sleep. It was in the corner of his eye. He could never spot it, for when he moved to catch a glimpse, it moved, lingering just at the edge. He rubbed his eyes. They stung from the salt water. He hated the taste of the brine, hated almost everything right now. Except for Ben. Except for Chris. They let him be. He wished they hadn’t, wished they’d pressed him, made him talk about it, but anytime they did, he’d storm out of the room. So once they’d bought Boris and Roger’s boat and drove into the Great South Bay and points south, no one brought it up, no one talked about anything. Talking was overrated. Swimming was everything now. A goal in and of itself. Dying was everything. Dying consumed him. Dying. It’s an active verb, isn’t it? Means: Not Dead Yet. Because he wasn’t, and because this thing had been on his mind for weeks, he knew he wasn’t dead yet—he pictured Ben and Chris as he put one arm in front of the other. He wished inside he were dead, but he wasn’t—he was very alive. He was conflicted, confused. He hoped in death he would escape confusion. There wasn’t an easy answer. Either he cared for one or the other. He pictured he was with one or the other. It was a binary choice. And yet either choice was null as he felt himself to be null, he’d never satisfy either one. So, the coward that he was, he search for a third option: he swam. Thinking about any of this pissed him off and he swam faster, tried to outpace his thoughts. He doubled down on his strokes, kicked faster, harder, frantically wanting to die before these feelings killed him. He began to weep as he swam. Real body sobs. And why not? He was alone. He was in the middle of the fucking ocean. Who’d see him weep? Fish? Mermaids? If one caught him boo-hooing with his face in the water, he could always say it was the salty ocean not salty tears in his face. He breathed in water accidentally as he sobbed and he choked. He was going to Davy Jones’ Locker soon, so did he care if he choked? He’d be meeting Davy Jones soon. Davy Jones. Wasn’t he one of the Monkees? He laugh. He stopped swimming. He tread water. He was laughing and crying. He was tired, really tired, hadn’t slept for days, tossing and turning, wrapped in his desires and utter pointlessness of feeling anything at all. He’d swum for hours and hours, far, far away, and if not physically swimming away, then for days and days he’d been mentally, emotionally swimming away. Closing off; shutting down. Away from everything. Away from anyone who cared. Treading water as an excuse for living. Suddenly cramps. He folded in half, exploded bubbles underwater. Saw his toes. Coming up for air, he threw his head back, wailing to the sky, crying, Fuck you! for meeting Ben who introduced Drax, and the path his life took. But how could he ever really curse meeting Ben? And with Ben came Chris. He heaved and bobbed, sputtered profanities into the sky, shouted blasphemies into the water, thrashed violently against the waves, but there was nothing to make contact with, nothing to hit to make him feel better, only worse, more hollow, empty. Yelling at God, at the sky, was as fruitless as tossing matches at the sun. The sun didn’t care. It laughed. And at last he was growing weak. It couldn’t be much longer. Small whitecaps broke around his ears. Soon. Soon. He’d wait right here. Death knew where he was. He didn’t have to search any farther for it. Soon it would find him. But like an obligation he couldn’t get out of, like a promised he couldn’t keep, his tangled love followed him, came in sight—Chris at the bow with binoculars trained on him, Ben at the helm navigating to where Chris pointed. They sped up their approached with Chris waving his arms. They didn’t press, didn’t ask, didn’t tell, but they also never gave up. But just as they pulled alongside him, Manetti’s body gave out. He slid down into the depths, went to meet Davy Jones. The Jolly Roger pulled up beside where they’d last seen him. Ben cut the engines. Manetti was finally let go, threading down to the bottomless sea. Chris jumped in the water. Turbulently he dove kicking down, searching desperately for Mike, saw nothing but fingertips disappearing into the grey expanse below. He kicked frantically till whole fingers then a hand came into view. He grabbed it, pulled on it till he grasped the whole hand, Mike’s still warm hand, then the arm, and pulled and stroked and kicked stubbornly trying to rise to the surface. He made no progress with the heavy body. He hadn’t taken in enough air and it was running out. His lungs burned but still he kicked doggedly, didn’t matter he wasn’t rising to the surface. He’d let Mike pull him under before he’d give him up to the sea. There was another splash. Ben dove beneath him, found Mike’s other arm. Together they pulled till the surface came into view. The sun glistened like an orb rippling far above. They sliced water with their free arms, kicking stubbornly with their feet, chasing their breath in the form of bubbles racing to the surface. They broke through the ocean’s skin and gasped for air. Ben had left a life vest waiting close to the boat. Chris grabbed it and tucked it under Mike’s chin. Mike coughed salt water out of his lungs, barfed water back into the ocean. Dazed and half conscious, his chin rested on the orange life preserver. He eyed Chris. He eyed Ben. For a second he thought he’d fallen into heaven looking at the brothers. But then he remembered who he was, where he was, what he was, felt the whitecaps break around his ears. Maybe death hadn’t found him today. But if he had any say, he’d let it find him. One day. Soon. *** he yacht they bought from the morticians, Boris and Roger, called—what else—The Jolly Roger, skull and crossbones painted on the stern, bobbed gently in the harbor. Tucked in their rented slip, the vessel swayed slightly as Chris woke from a nap. He felt the movement so knew they were still on the sea. There was something reassuring about living on the ocean over the last several months. Maybe it was growing up so close to the beach, it was the one place of refuge he knew he could always turn to. She was always there, constant, unchanging from one season to the next. Each year he grew older, she didn’t. Veracruz was a port town similar to Long Beach in a lot of ways. The smell for one. Brackish water mixed with heavy industry. Massive freighters carrying millions of tons of crude oil sat next to cargo ships with thousands of stacked containers. Millions of transaction daily. The port covered over five hundred acres of water, nine hundred acres on land. Veracruz was one of Mexico’s busiest port, its open hand to the world. The volume of exchange was hard to fathom, but it had been this gateway for centuries. Its open hand brought with it Caribbean and African influences. You could hear it in its music, see it in the people. The pleasure boats docked closer to the city hotels and to the city’s center; the massive ships stayed out by the barrier reefs with a nearly thousand foot quay connecting it to land. It was an extremely active port, a lively scene in the daytime, with huge cranes loading and unloading cargo till late afternoon. Then activity ebbed, trucks loaded with containers drove off, and the harbor took on a more serene and festive mood. He got up from his small bunks, and climbed to the top deck bar where he knew Mike and Ben would be. Yep, they were there in flowery Hawaiian shirts bought in Miami, sipping vodka cranberries, watching the lights of the city start to flutter awake. The deep azure sky was quickly fading to night. The first stars of the night were unveiling. “How you feeling, Chief,” Manetti asked him. “Better,” Chris replied. “Can I have one too?” Ben looked him over. “If you’re not gonna get sick, I guess you can.” Manetti, the ship’s official bartender, asked if he wanted a cherry in his Shirley Temple. Chris glared at him. Manetti mixed his vodka cranberry grinning his goofy grin, throwing in a lime. “Arrrrg,” he said in a pirate voice, handing over the drink, “Yer wants to prevent scurvy, matey.” They settled on their barstools. “Perty, ain’t it?” Manetti said to no one in particular, watching the rippling lights coming toward them across the water. He’d come a long way, Chris thought, since the incident in Virginia months back. They all had, healed some or scarred over. Still no one talked about what they all kept quiet about. What was there to say? If you come to an understanding, an unspoken compromise, why talk? So they all slept in the boat’s many separate bunks in different parts of the ship, the master cabin at the bow left empty. Each alone in his bunk with his solitary thoughts, they sailed the Caribbean, hiding from each other as much as from Drax. After a long silence Ben said Veracruz reminded him of Miami. Long Beach, Chris replied. The radio softly played a local folk station—guitars, plaintive Spanish songs, son jarocho. A tune came on that pricked up Ben’s and Mike’s ears. Ben said, “Isn’t that…” “La Bamba,” Mike finished the thought. “Yeah, a lot different from—what’s his name?” “Richie Valens,” Ben said. “Who’s Richie Valens,” asked Chris. Ben explained, “He was someone who died in a plane crash with the The Big Bopper and Buddy Holly back in the fifties.” “Who,” Chris asked again. “Shut up,” said Mike. After a few moments listening to the familiar song overlaid by the original folk melody, not as brash as the early rock n roll rendition, but with complex guitar work still rhythmically inviting, Ben asked Mike what they were saying. Mike listened intently. He’d grown up speaking broken Italian in his house, so over the last months, as they sailed around Mexico and the Caribbean, he’d managed to pick up and got pretty good at Spanish. “The guy’s singing: To dance the bamba, to the dance the bamba, you need a little grace.” “What the bamba?” Chris asked. “I don’t know,” said Mike, “It’s the name of the dance, I guess, like the twist or something.” “What’s the twist,” Chris asked again. “Please let me throw him overboard,” Manetti begged Ben. “Kidding,” Chris laughed. Then something stopped Manetti. A light went off in his face as he cocked an ear to the radio. “Aw, this is good. Listen.” Manetti sang, not very well, but passionately, a refrain, “Yo no soy marinero, yo no soy marinero, soy capitan. He says, I’m not a sailor, I’m not a sailor, I’m captain, I’m captain.” His smile blossomed, the first true smile Ben and Chris had seen since they left New York. Not sardonic or ironic either. Saying something for the first time he believed. “I’m captain,” he sang in his raspy off-key baritone. The three of them sipped drinks and gazed over the port town, felt shrouded in the approaching night. The rocking of the boat brought them together. They didn’t need to talk. Maybe wounds weren’t healing so much as scabbing over. During their months at sea, they’d developed their own silent language, speaking only when something had to be said. Something like they needed a refill of meds, or they needed a new fuel filter. Their exchange over La Bamba had been the most they’d spoken to each other in months, particularly Manetti. Maybe they were ready to talk. Or maybe it wasn’t words they needed to express. A little buzzed, Chris swayed on his barstool to the song’s refrain. As the song went on he got up and swayed to the music in front of Manetti. He’d grown tall in the last few months, still skinny as a rail but now eye height to Manetti. So with Manetti perched on his barstool, Chris looked him straight in the eye. He got in close and was dancing closer. “Bamba la bamba,” he sang in his reedy voice, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. *** A brief history of the internet would likely begin with the Advanced Research Projects Administration network, or ARPANET, a U.S. Department of Defense project, based on the idea that if nuclear war took out parts of the country, decentralized yet connected computer operation would allow data to continue to flow in the un-nuked parts of the United States. Comforting thought. ARPANET was a pioneering network for sharing digital resources among geographically separated computers. You can trace a direct line from its initial demonstration in 1969 to the development and adoption of what we now know as the Internet. Chris was two that year, making his first stack of building blocks—four high. He clapped his fat little hands sitting on the living room rug, while his mother, dad, and twelve-year-old brother watched a shoot-out on Bonanza. In 1976, Queen Elizabeth II sent her first email. As she pushed the send button, she placed her white gloves against her lips. She was very excitedly. The royal family, surrounding her, shared in her delight. When Ben and Mike fucked for the first time at the St. Marks Bath in 1983, the Domain Name System, or DNS, was established giving us the familiar website suffixes .com, .net, .gov, etc., which was a heck of a lot easier to remember than the series of numbers websites previous used, like, say, 176.191.49.254. Two years later, when bath houses and sex clubs were shut down by the health department, in 1985, the internet was well on its merry way. So were Chris, Ben and Mike having dug up Chris’ buried treasure, bought The Jolly Roger, and set sail for a four years voyage hiding on the open seas. Miami, Freeport, Key West, Veracruz, Belize, Jamaica, Puerto Rico, Martinique, Aruba, through the Panama Canal, up to Acapulco, Puerto Vallarta, Cabo San Lucas, with a brief stop in Long Beach to pick up Ben’s record collection and check in on mom. She was better than fine, had a new boyfriend named Burt, who actually was decent to her. She was disappointed they had to leave so soon, but packed the three sea voyagers a lunch, kissed their cheeks including Manetti’s scruffy beard, and with records tucked under their arms, they were back sputtering up the California coast by noon, chomping on Mrs. Prior’s peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and homemade Rice Crispy treats. Mike, Ben and Chris sailed under the astonishing Golden Gate Bridge revealing the magnificent San Francisco skyline, August of ’89. Within a week they dry docked The Jolly Roger, and set up house in the Castro. Chris was twenty-two. One year later, 1990, Tim Berners-Lee develop the HyperText Markup Language, or HTML, which is still the basis of how we navigate and view the internet today. (Where you going with this, Chief? Bear with me, I’ll get to it.) Chris got his first computer the same year. It’s not really a part of internet history, but it’s important to the story because it was important to Chris: his first computer was a Macintosh IIfx. Mike and Ben chipped in together to celebrate both Chris getting his GED and an acceptance letter to Stanford just down the peninsula. That was back when Stanford wasn’t next to impossible to get into. Chris discovered that besides having a knack with car and boat engines, he had a natural aptitude for figuring out how things fit together—physical or otherwise. The very first thing he did when he got his Mac was to take it apart and reassemble it. So combine aptitude with physical objects to a newly discovered affinity for reading and writing code, Stanford was a logical place to park his butt for the next four years. Reading and writing code was intuitive for him. He tried to explain it to Ben and Mike, passing around some ganja they’d brought with them from Long Beach; it’s simply another form of language, he said. Ben and Mike tried to follow as he prattled on. It reflects the same rules as any language: the mechanics of verbs, whether motor engines, electrical systems, or logical functions and methods; the structure and solidity of nouns, whether you’re talking car parts or object-oriented programming’s classes and instances; the skin of adjectives, colors, attributes, the aggregate of forms that determine design; finally the assembled thought, the purpose, the reasoning, the expression, the i/o of flowing data, the brain giving orders—what is it you want this thing to accomplish, man?—it all interlocked in his mind, he’d just never had a way to express it before nor much inkling he even wanted to. But now all that changed: Hello world! Mike took the joint out of Chris’ hand. It didn’t hurt that he graduated from Stanford in ’94. Two guys in the class before his had a startup called Yahoo! They brought Chris onboard first as an intern in his senior year, and then fulltime by summer. There wasn’t a whole lot of money in those lean, early days—the two founders were working with venture capitalists who weren’t immediately forthcoming with cash—so Chris got paid, against Ben and Mike’s advice, in options. Since he was a workaholic, staying up writing code throughout the night wired on caffeine and an occasional jolt of amphetamines, he piled up a shitload of options. He kept them in a shoebox under the bed. When the company incorporated the following year, Chris converted options each time the stock hit a new high. He made a killing in just the first year alone, and still had an almost-full shoebox under the bed. In 1996, Match.com was launched, and other dating sites sprang up soon after. One night, after Mike had brought home some kickass Peyote buttons, and during some powerful, transformative sex—i.e., the first night Chris took his first double fist—he realized he should create a new kind of dating site. He bought a domain the next day, and built the site, still amped from the Peyote and fuckin’ awesome sex, over the course of one weekend. Chris’ life, informed by Mike and Ben, showed him that the rainbow flag not only transcended a spectrum of races and cultures, it also, and more in line with his experiences, encompassed a spectrum of sexual universes. Where dating sites that competed for survival in the burgeoning, Darwinian world of online hookups viewed the model from top down as straight white vanilla, tossing out a net to capture the broadest swath possible, his take on sex was completely opposite, bottom up, a banquet of chocolatey rocky road. He started with all the categories and sub-categories of life he knew viscerally, starting with Master Drax and continuing over the last few years in San Francisco: leather, master & slaves, fisters, S&M, bondage, grunge& raunch, hoods & masks, pups & trainers, military, medical, uniforms, watersports, smokers, skinheads, punks, tats, piercings, feet, chastity, bareback, bikers, bears, rubber, and friendship—you name it, there was a place, or maybe several places, for you somewhere on his site. San Francisco was the perfect beta test city to incubate his idea. His site was free with limited search capability—proof of concept, man, search is gonna be the key, he claimed—but for a few dollars more, a monthly Premium membership gave you unlimited search capabilities. This bottom up approach, this one-size-does-not-fit-all model, this choose-your-own-adventure paradigm—plus, add-on messaging, chat rooms, picture sharing, winks, scorekeeping, leaderboards: the whole gamification of getting laid—it caught fire. First city-wide, then nationally, and within a year, internationally. We’re talking beaucoup bucks here, sailors. It, his website, and he, its sole founder, made scads of money from the get go and attracted attention. But, perhaps, attention might not be what he was looking for. But then you have to figure, hey, he—they—could only keep out of site forever. *** The old guy at the end of the bar lit a Camel cigarette. Bobo, a large, very attractive middle-aged drag queen who helped Manetti run the place weeknights (and who had an obvious, though unrequited crush on him—but that’s another story) served Duke, a young, wiry, opinionated hustler who liked to badger Mike incessantly. They were at the center of the long saloon bar staring at the smoking man. It was a slow Tuesday night—only four of them in the place. The big green neon clock showed it was almost one-thirty in the morning, a half hour from closing. “Not cool,” said Duke to Manetti. Bobo checked her nails studiously. “Hey, mister,” Manetti said, walking over to the man. “You can’t smoke here.” He stopped short recognizing Drax. Under his black leather cap, what used to be grey beard had gone completely white and was now pointed and quite long. His bald head had had a buzzed crown around the sides, but he’d let that grow long, too, so the wispiest of white hair hung over his shoulders. Black circles sagged under his eyes. He’d once worn glasses but now they were absent. Instead his dark eyes were ghostly pale with thick cataracts. He hacked a loud, phlegmatic cough as Manetti approached. “Bourbon neat, barkeep,” he said. “We got a backyard bar for smoking,” Manetti said under his breath cautiously. Though Drax looked infirmed, he knew a wounded snake was a more dangerous one. He gave Drax a once over, checked what he could to ascertain if anything were holstered under his leather coat. It didn’t look like he was packing, but you never knew with Drax. He’d surprised many a wary adversary. He shot a glance to Duke and Bobo, a little afraid for them if things suddenly went south. “We’re getting close to last call. How ‘bout I get us a bottle and we talk out back?” he offered Drax. The old man luxuriated in his cigarette, picking off a shred of tobacco from the left side of his split reptilian tongue. Manetti had forgotten that tongue. Drax took a long drag and blew a large plume into the stale barroom air. “Not cool, man,” Duke pronounced from the center of the bar, waving his hand in front of his face as if from that distance he was bothered by the smoke. Manetti raised a scolding finger at Duke. Don’t! the finger and Manetti’s scowl warned him. Duke usually would take that up as challenge and start arguing with Manetti, but something told him to stand down. He clamped his pie hole and instead blinked at Bobo. Bobo took out a nail file and glanced a disconcerting look at Mike. “These San Francisco street whores—little pansy ass lung fairies, aren’t they,” Drax said to Manetti. He turned his head only slightly, not bothering to look at Duke but making sure he knew he was talking to him. “Fuck you, cunt,” he said in his gnarly voice. “Hey, now!” said Bobo alarmed and angry, pointing her nail file at the old man. “No C-word in my joint.” Manetti sauntered back to Bobo and Duke. “Hey kids. This is an old acquaintance of mine,” Manetti said. “Sweetie, would you mind watching the door till closing? I’m going out back so he can finish his smoke. If anyone else comes tell ‘em I’m out back,” he said and kissed Bobo’s rouged cheek. “Night, Chief,” he said to Duke. “You be good, ya hear me.” He held up that warning finger again, and gave them both his reassuring shark-tooth smile. He knocked Duke’s chin, friendly-like, with his knuckles. Duke sheepishly grinned. Who didn’t have a crush on Manetti? *** The back patio had a little straw tiki bar with two bar stools. Mike set Drax’s glass and his on the bamboo surface and poured generous amounts of Four Roses in each. He set down the bottle, picked up his glass and waited. Off in the harbor a plaintiff foghorn wailed. Drax came out hobbling with a cane. He limped along favoring his right hip. The patio bar was perched on the side of a hill. Several picnic tables were scattered about, barstools lined the railings overlooking a deserted alley far below. Manetti positioned himself in back of the tiki bar and Drax slid onto one of the stools. Drax flicked his ash on the floor, hooked his cane on the bar ledge, and set down his lighter and pack of Camels next to his bourbon. “You grow a beard?” he asked squinting. Manetti nodded yes, running his fingers over it. “This your place then, huh,” he said to Manetti with an undercurrent of disbelief and maybe a little envy. Drax’s eyes were fixed on the bartender, his former stable boy, now spouting a few grey hairs in his unruly auburn mop. Drax’s near-blind eyes shined luminous in the gloom. “Ben and mine,” Manetti answered. He picked up Drax’s Camels, took one out. He plucked Drax’s smoke from his fingers and lit his from it. He handed him back his cigarette. “Long time, MD. How’d you know we were here?” “It's an odd thing,” Drax began in an effete manner, flicking his wrist exaggerated by his cigarette. It was completely discordant with his nature, so against his butch, hard guy character, yet a very spot on mimicry. “But anyone who disappears is said to be seen in San Francisco.” He brought his fingers to his lips and puffed. Manetti gave a smile in recognition. “Master Drax quotes Oscar Wilde. A sign of the apocalypse,” Manetti snorted, taking a hit off his own smoke. Drax curled his lips displaying a gummy smile. Manetti exhaled into the overhead fog. “And then Wilde exclaimed,” speaking in his own mincing voice, “It must be a delightful city and possess all the attractions of the next world.” Drax took a sip of bourbon. “I haven’t seen any evidence of that yet,” he said, “but give me a day. I only arrived tonight.” He approved of the bourbon and took a bigger swig. “When’d you get so fucking literary?” Manetti took a long drag. He’d quit smoking when they were at sea, but tonight was a special occasion. The cool air and the warm smoke had a familiar sensation. It provoked some relished, decadent, post sex memories. He took another hit, felt the nicotine work its magic, salving the undercurrent of nervousness being back in Drax’s presence. He’d always been charmed and at the same time repulsed by the man; tonight was no different. “Taking a couple of night classes at City College, finishing my degree.” “Hm,” grunted Drax. He paused thinking back. “You were on scholarship at NYU ages ago, weren’t you?” Drax asked. “Afore you became just another burnout.” “I was on a wrestling scholarship back then, yeah.” Manetti drew deeply from his glass. “I was working out some issues. But I’m back now. It’s cheap. I’m getting a degree in English literature next year. Lot of good it’ll do me working here,” he laughed. “Hm,” Drax grunted again. “You trying to impress me?” He fidgeted on his stool. “It’s cold for fucking July,” he groused. “Welcome to San Francisco,” Manetti responded. “Drink up, it’ll warm you. Might even thaw you a bit.” Smoking brought out a sense of security. He went on, “I’m working on something that might interest you. Working with Bobo on it. Besides being one of the best bartenders around, she’s a great lyricist. You met her inside.” The bourbon was loosening him up, warming his gut. “Maybe you knew him when he bartended at The Mineshaft. He was Carlos back then. Big dockworker type. Large black horseshoe mustache?” Drax looked at him blankly. “Well, I remembered him.” Drax downed the rest of his drink, then plunked down the glass. “Too hard to tell,” his said, pointing to his head. “All that big hair.” “We’re collaborating, she and I,” Manetti said. He raised his hand eliciting a marque. “Mineshaft, the Musical,” he said with a flourish. Drax crowed hard once, while Manetti refilled his glass. Drax crushed out his cigarette, drifted in reflection, studying the dying smoke. “Hm.” He rolled thoughts over. Manetti watched the old man’s pale eyes flutter. It was dark out here. Fog lowering. Getting dank, too. Drax looked up and tried to scan Manetti’s face in the dingy light. Mike saw his former director, confessor and pimp, shiver. Manetti, too, was cold, wearing his usual bar uniform: white t-shirt, jeans, leather vest. He flipped on an overhead heater. It cast both of them in a devilish orange light. The heat lamp sizzled, chewing on the fog as it warmed them both. The foghorn softly moaned again. “I remember,” Drax finally began after taking a sip, “taking Benjamin to the Mineshaft for the first time.” He lit another cigarette. It triggered a bout of hacking and a prolonged, phlegmatic rumbling. It ended with him spitting phlegm onto the ground. He paused for a second, then took another hit off his cigarette, and ruminated for quite a while lost in thought. “Hm,” he said, looking off in a middle distance. “He only had been in the city a year. He was still so cherry. Hadn’t taken a fist, hadn’t done scat or been whipped, he’d only been pissed on once but hadn’t drank from the tap yet. You don’t want to rush a boy. Good pornography, it’s best when it records discoveries. We’re born like a rock with all these rough edges,” he said swirling around the contents of his glass. “Life wears you down. But you don’t want to smooth a boy down all at once. One step at a time down that long descending staircase. If you can, you capture that moment when a synapse fires off, that shows he actually likes it, whatever kink it is, that’s what make your viewer shoot his load. Yeah, sure, it’s also that big throbbing dick, but it’s also that spark of recognition. That identification. And sometimes to get it, you need to go off script. Plant some seeds. See what’s in the boy’s true nature.” Drax flicked his ash, stared at his ember. Took a long draw sucking in his hollow cheeks. “So this night, it’s the night of the blackout of ’77, July. It’s sweltering hot in his apartment, we’re naked and dripping in sweat. I wanted him to learn to take a fist. I just slammed him for a second time, but we were getting nowhere. Been shoving big dildos and plugs up his ass, he was begging for them, shoving ones bigger than my hand, but when my fingers touched his hole?” Drax demonstrated for Manetti Ben’s tightly clenched butthole with his closed fist. “My experience, a good slam fixes that, but not Ben, not that night. Then the blackout happens, power goes out in the apartment and you might as well call it quits. Except we’re both higher than fuck, and I tell him, put on your jock and those chaps, I’m taking you somewhere. We usually didn’t go out in public. Some men recognized him, mostly from vanilla stuff that first year. Spreads in the soft core rags, beach boy, long hair surfer, jacking. Pics of him playing with his hole. Some with other pretty boys. He preferred boys his own age he could dominate. He was still skinny, tall though, aggressive with my other twink bottoms. Slapped them around some, nothing too violent, more bossy, really. Naturally verbal I was discovering. Bit of a nasty streak if you wanna know the truth. Had a real foul mouth when he got started. Loved when he got his bottom confessing to being his fucktard bitch,” Drax chuckled. “Said he got it from his stepdad.” “Chris’ real dad,” Manetti injected. “Ben’s stepdad. He used to beat Chris mercilessly.” “Yeah?” Drax paused interested, curious, mulled it over. “I could see that.” He gave Manetti a harsh once over, then pulled on his cigarette, letting the smoke drift out his teeth as he spoke. “So we ride in the cab seeing there this blackout going on all over the city, wasn’t just the fuses in the building. We pass a Walgreens being looted, I don’t know, old men carrying out cartons of cigarettes, six-packs, old ladies with shopping carts full of boxes of clothespin and plastic tablecloths, the strange things people do. Plastic flowers piled in their shopping carts. We pass a couple of cars on fire on Broadway and Eighth, both of us high as shit. We’re in this real-life Hieronymous Bosch painting. Are we really seeing these things? Maybe we are. Guys breaking into the Crazy Eddies store, a dog running up the Six Avenue by itself, no street lights of course, so the driver takes it easy. We get to Washington Street, there’s cops lined up. Ben’s afraid ‘cause of the cops. I have to convince him they’re just dress-up cops, club customers waiting to get in. We get out, climb the stairs past leather men, policemen, denim cowboys, we push up the line ‘cause Wally’s at the ropes and he sees me and takes one look at this beautiful boy I have in chaps and a jock, and opens the rope right up. We’re walking around the bar and I’m holding his leash. I got him to cut his hair that week. Made him get a Mohawk, I thought it’d be fun.” Manetti almost snorted his bourbon through his nose. “You’re shittin’ me. Ben let you give him a Mohawk?” he said. “Of course he didn’t. You think he’d ever go for that, the little priss. But I did get him to cut it shorter. Much better. He twern’t at the beach no more, were he? Dorothy ain’t in Kansas.” “Guess not,” said Manetti. He poured himself another glass and stole another of Drax’s smokes. Drax didn’t seem to care, but he did notice. “So of course there’s no lights or music in the club ‘cause it’s the fuckin’ blackout of nineteen seventy-seven! We’re in the middle of this sweltering heatwave, Son of Sam’s on the loose knocking couples off, and Ben’s making his debut at The Mineshaft on my leash, struttin’ around in his jockstrap and chaps, and I got everyone salivating. Boy don’t yet know his worth, but the men do. The bar’s all lit up by a thousand candles. Men all murmuring. It’s like a fucking church, which is exactly what The Mineshaft is actually. Am I right? It’s hotter than shit so I have Ben strip, which he’s high but a little reluctant to do right out in public, but I strip and others are walking around naked, so what the fuck. He asks sort of innocently, what kind of bar is this? Not a bar, son, I say. Let’s go down those stairs, I tell him. We leave the second floor bar, go down naked to the first floor and he’s like a kid in a candy store. His eyes are wide, his pupils like black saucers, and I see he’s hungry for what the store has to offer. There’s glory holes, rim seats, slings, but what does that sick pup pick up on first? There a spotlight and a bunch of men surrounding the spotlight. Of course he’s drawn to it. We go over, and the light’s focused on a bathtub. Two guys are in it getting pissed on by all the men standing around it. He begs me to let him get in. I unleash him, and he runs over naked wearing just his dog collar, making his way through a sea of naked or semi-naked men in harnesses, all their cocks waving, and he climbs in and gets on his knees. More men come over to get a load of this new dirty blond hunk, this gorgeous piece of fresh meat, and of course they want to piss all over him, mark him. He opens his mouth and consumes shit loads of their piss. One short Asian guy nuzzles up to him with his big black bush, and Ben learns to drink from dick, then he takes this black guy’s Johnson and sucks out his piss till the guy’s empty. He can’t get enough drinking piss, piss, piss, piss, piss, and wallowing under the spotlight doing it. No telling what bonus chems are in those streams, but he’s certainly changed after that. He’s a wild man the rest of the night. Hyped and wired.” Drax’s eyes are glowing, the orange reflecting off the white, like a red-eye photograph. He, too, looks to Manetti like a wild man, not really here, but in the past, a blind seer, watching Ben decades before soaking in piss, riding the limelight in that tub. Drax takes a sip to fortify the memory. “And then this big muscled cop, or a guy in a jockstrap wearing a cop’s shirt, pulls him out. I think he’s going to fuck the shit out of the kid, this big stud cop, but the cop finds an empty sling, pulls Ben with him, and then flops back in the sling himself, and slides his big jackboots through the sling’s leg straps. I pull up next to him to see what Ben’s gonna do. He’s wet, smells acrid from the piss, short hair slicked back—never looked better—asks the guy if he’s a real cop. The guy, in a low voice, admits he is—he’s the real deal! The fucker should have been out protecting the city but he’s here, looks high, waiting for Ben to bone him. Seeing he’s a real cop, Ben pops an instant stiffy. It’s saluting at full attention, with veins so hard around his thick shaft they look like crawling worms, for fuck sake. Men around him notice. I notice. He sticks his engorged meat in the guy in one balls-deep thrust, buries himself right up to his brown curlies. The guy yells to let him get use to his big fuckstick, and more guys come over hearing that. It’s all shadows and flickering candles, and what your eyes can’t see, your brain fills in. Fuck, man, the sounds they make. Not human sounds. Animalistic. Some ritual not even I understand is going on between cop and his former prey, between victim and abuser—rolls reversed. He’s fucking someone in his past, or a group of someones, I can tell, ‘cause whatever motivates him out of his past he’s taking it out on this cop in the sling, right here, right now—and it’s something fuckin’ brutally beautifully. It has all the sounds of a rape but let me tell you the cop is absolutely into it. His ass ain’t never had a Big Ben in it before and he’s enjoying the shit out of it. It ain’t a bottom and a top going at it. It’s a top being fucked by an über-top. That’s what The Mineshift spawned, the original anti-Eden: not butches doing fems, but the homomasculine submitting to the Über-masculine. We’re in Tom of Finland territory. Ben rips the cop’s shirt open, fucking him blindly, pinching the shit out of his big cop tits. They’re exchanging snarls, gorilla grunts, and Fuck Yous, and he’s releasing on the cop’s ass a lifetime of stored up rage. He climaxes shooting all over the guy’s uniform and in his face, but isn’t done with him yet. No sir. He’s got the whole corner of the room captivated. He shouts, Crisco, putting his hand out like he’s waiting for a stagehand. He’s in command. He truly is. He’s sweating profusely from the meth, and whatever chem piss is running through his system, and someone puts a wad of grease in his hand. Ben lubes his fist and doesn’t go gently into that good night. No sir. He pulls up next to the cop’s face, pushes his still hard, shit-crusted cock in the cop’s mouth, and pushes his clutched fist into the guy’s ass. Not a gooseneck hand to start, but the full magilla, his big clutched fist plunges into the guy’s gut. You can almost hear it go pop. There’s this loud fart of air as Ben pulls all the way out afore he pushes back in. The cop’s gagging on his cock from its girth as he’s struggling with the force of Ben’s arm pumping straight into his chute.” “Jesus,” Manetti said. “That’s what the cop is crying. Jesus Chris, slow down, man! he’s shouting, but Ben’s not listening to any of that shit. Not that he’s punch fucking the guy violently. No. He’s standing next to him, making him suck his shitty cock, pistoning him slowly but deep into this big cop’s ass like he’s kneading a big vat of dough. In, out. Stroke after stroke, sending the guy into both heaven and hell at the same time. Then they’re not even talking anymore, just Ben silently watching the cop’s anguished-exhilarated face, watching what he’s doing to the man, what effect he’s having on this cop he’s turned into a meat puppet. All the while the cop’s nursing Big Ben like an infant suckin’ on his mama’s teet. It gets quieter the deeper Ben pushes in his arm. Swear to God, it got as solemn as a church service. Wasn’t a cop and a top anymore. More biblical, priest administering to a penitent, more like it. Like the agony he’d put the man through came out the other side and he was now tending to him, fist going in deeper and pulling out. A part of the cop’s colon comes with it, big ol’ prolapse, probably the first one Ben ever saw. Didn’t bother him, got him hard again, he just pushes it back in and goes deeper. Wants to see how much gut he can pull out of the guy. Men gathered around, some stroking, some just watching in wonder, trying to fathom what the story is between this naked holy man and the supplicant. When Ben forced the man to cum, and forced him he did if you saw his face…” Drax said. “I’ve seen that face,” Manetti confirmed. “Well, then, you know how Ben is when he’s in charge. The cop cums all over his uniform, his chest, over his face, shoots over his head. Rope after rope of cum. Men fall to their knees to worship this new priest among them, some fell to the cop’s ass and chewed on his spent prolapse, all wanted Ben to do to them what he’d just done to the cop. They lick Ben’s feet, like he’s fuckin’ Jesus coming out the desert, kiss his thighs, lick his ass, stick their tongues inside his anus, suck on his armpit, whatever Ben offered raising up his arms to his new flock. Three at a time are under him worshiping his cock, balls, and taint. The cop slowly gets out of the sling, shaking his head, pushing his prolapse back in, trying to figure out where the fuck he’s been for the last hour, and I come with a can of grease and lay Ben back down in the sling, in front of this group of envious men. I lock his arms over his head and hand the cop a bottle of strong poppers to administer to him, then I buckle the strap holding Ben’s feet high in the air. He’s spread eagle with men groping his body like a holy relic. I lube my hand and take a good scoop of Crisco and start pushing it into the boy’s ass. I do this a couple of times so there’s a lot inside him when I start pushing two fingers in his slippery chute. He’s as tight as he’s ever been but he’s also rock hard. You want this, I tell him. Tell me how much you want this, I say. Please, Master, he begs, put your arm inside me. I slide in three, then four fingers. Stop fighting me I say at him. Give him a hit, I tell the cop. I’m getting pissed if he don’t let me fist him this time, with this audience. The cop bends the kid’s head over the bottle and lets him huff all he wants. He breathing in the bottle for a while afore he lets his head fall back against the leather. I can feel now not only has his ass relaxed, he’s trying, as much as he can tied up, to slide down the sling on my hand. I don’t even have to push in. His hole is opening and his weight is falling over the edge of the sling onto my hand on its own accord. And then I’m in and still sliding deeper without me having to do anything. He’s yelling Oh Fucks the deeper I go. But I gotta tell you: too much is made over the trust a bottom must have from his top. Bullshit I say. Fisting comes out of the school of S&M, and giving the bottom control of the scene ruins it. Fisting was created as a form of punishment as much as it was a form of control. I tell the cop to give him another hit. He does and I’m taking the boy for a ride he won’t forget. My hand comes out and goes back in a second time in the form of a fist. He’s struggling to accept the width but I won’t budge until he lets me in. From sheer pressure he pops open but not without a cry of distress. Good, I tell him, that feeling is what you can expect for the next hour. And that’s exactly what I give him, no merciful, sensual assplay, but forced punching of his anus until its lips hang loose and sloppy. The red of his colon starts to show after a while. His first night fisting and I’m developing this beautiful small rose. Push out, I yell at him. It’s a pretty pink flower for all to see. I clear some of the Crisco so the men around can see it better. Someone goes down and licks it, giving the kid the first taste of what getting his rosebud eaten feel like. He’s loving it. I go for depth after the first hour. Each time he takes a hit from the cop I’m pushing in deeper before the chemicals have an impact so that when they do I can push him even further. The cop asks if he can take over for a while, Ben becomes afraid, begs me no. Did I ask you? I say to him. Sure. Have at it. And the cop, with his big hairy paws, is plunging into him. I make the boy suck my dick while the cop is exacting revenge on the boy’s sphincter. The cop’s even slipping in a couple of additional fingers while he’s alternating hands in the kid’s ass. He’s almost got two hands in but I see pink in the grease on the cop’s forearms so I have him pullout. I don’t want him damaged. He relinquishes him, but not without one last deep punch, sending Ben’s head flinging back in agony. His suffering is my aphrodisiac. I’m dripping, so I slowly and savagely fuck him. Hours—you been at my receiving end afore, so you know—hours reaming him in chem-filled lust. No need for a bathroom break ‘cause I got my toilet attached to my cock. Besides the chem-piss makes him even more of a whore. Around daybreak, as most all the candles have burnt out, it’s now almost pitch black inside, you can see some outside daylight in the cracks, the last two or three flickering candles are fading, so Ben can’t really see but only feel my cock inside him. I slide my hand in next to my cock, which has been tenderizing him in the last of the wee hours. I wrap my fingers in a fist and piston my cock. He don’t know what he’s getting but the whore likes it. In the cavernous dark as the last candles go out, men are kissing him, nursing his nipples, sucking his cock. And he’s moaning, speaking in tongues, is tweaking on another plane, sucking on other cocks being fed to him, asses bent over for him to eat, and I jack my spooge inside my fist inside him. He’s blathering invites to anyone around him to fist his hole. He’s where I want him. He turns me on so hard, so broken, so open, and I let other guys fist and fuck him, watching along the wall, drinking my beer. “Drax, you fuck,” Manetti said. “He’s struggling under a brutal Neanderthal, fucking his insides out. Ben the boy is suddenly gone, surrendered, arms hanging off the sides of the sling. Taking it, accepting it, a martyr to sex. I bend over and ask him why he’s suddenly surrendered. He whimpers, Hunters got me trapped, Daddy, I can’t escape. I’m lost. Cops got me in a back alley. He’s lost in his past or his fantasy, it’s taken him over. He’s biting his lip. Four more men fuck him and four more fist him. I’m kissing him while they do, telling him accept what he is, just a hole for men to use as their cumrag. Then I see his hole drooling a steady, cloudy white stream of men’s seed, all pooling on the floor under his ass. I know I want back inside that warm, wet cave. I fuck my baby well into the day. Daddy’s got you, I tell him, won’t ever let you go. Then around noon the harsh club lights flickers back on. The blackout’s over. I don’t know how many times I shot into him. I know he shot wads more. Did he remember? Probably half of it. We go out into the daylight, blinded, looking to hail a cab. Butchers right next door to The Mineshaft, in their bloody white aprons, haul in large stabs of meat. Ben looks like just another one of their carcasses. I fold him into the backseat of a gypsy cab. Like one of the many hanging carcasses we ride away from, I look at him, his head’s back, he’s staring at the cab’s cloth ceiling talking to himself. This big human carcass of meat, flecked with viscera across his chest, his and many others—he’s a rock now as smooth as I want him.” Silence falls between Drax and Manetti. Fog veils the alley from sight. They both sip bourbon. Drax’s cigarette was a stub, had long ago gone out. Drax looks at the cigarette butt in his hand with his white eyes, and sets it in the ashtray. “Best fuck of my life,” he says, downing his second drink. *** He’s fumbling with his cigarettes and lighter. He knocked one out of the pack. His lighter shook in an unsteady hand. He’s unable to aim the flame under his cigarette, so Manetti reached over and steadied his hand, and Drax managed to get it lit. Manetti considered the man on the other side of the tiki bar. Sure, it’s the orange heat light and the backlit fog that created the illusion, but Drax wears the expression of a weary demon or maybe a withered angel; some hybrid of bliss and torment. He, Manetti’s, had witnessed that ecstatic tortured look, that rapture, firsthand whenever Drax was cumming inside him over the year he spent in his stable. This suspension between extremes, this balance between worlds; no wonder Ben stuck around more than a decade. Moth to a flame, night after night. It had its draw. “So,” said Manetti, rolling his ember in the ashtray. The glass ashtray’s imprinted with The Plan B Bar, the name he and Ben chose. He’s pretty sloshed by now, as is Drax, who’s smoking with exaggerated control. “How’d you really find us?” Manetti asked a second time, refilling his glass. Drax covered his emotions with each cloud of smoke he exhaled. “Read this article in Wired back when I could read,” Drax said. “Don’t look shocked. I read sometimes.” Drax took up his drink, swirled it, and gave it a small sip. “There was this article, a profile of a kid, called himself Alistair Enge. Didn’t want to give out his real name to the magazine. ‘Fraid his mama’d find out, I suppose. He started a porn site, the article said, e-commerce, premium subscriptions, whatnot. It claimed it was changing the face of porn. No photo of this new face of porn, but I said to myself, Drax, you old fuck,” he flicked his ash, “where you hear that name afore?” He paused long enough to take a drag. “Then I remembered your pirate story from back in the day. When was that, Michael? Eleven, twelve years ago?” Manetti thought for a second, stoking his beard, a few strands of grey now blending in. “Twelve years,” he says. “Well, I thought to go ask my friends Boris and Roger—they’re still together, if you’re wondering. Wallace died though. Pity, nice pooch. I asked my old friends Boris and Roger, I said, hey Boris, hey Roger, what you’d ever do with that boat. What was its name?” “We bought it. The Jolly Roger.” “The Jolly Roger, yes.” He swirled his drink again and sipped a little more urgently. “So this is yours and Ben’s establishment. What about Chris, or is it Alistair now?” Drax held his cigarette to his mouth, sucked hard on the tip, smoke curling around his tattooed knuckles, H-A-T-E. “Yeah, we own it. Chris has his own thing going, has a crew of programmers and managers, sales, regulatory, things like that. But Ben and I run this.” He hit his cigarette and blew smoke out forcefully threw his nose. “What made you think of the boat?” he asked. “Alistair—the new face of porn—said he’d spent several years sailing with his family around the Caribbean before Stanford. Family,” Drax scoffed bitterly. “Three of you, huh? How does that work?” “Works quite well,” Manetti replied, taking a last hit from his cigarette and then stamped it out. “So MD. You came all the way out here to…?” Manetti let the question hang. Drax let it dangle. “Shame about Bichon, but I suppose karma has a way of catching up to even the best of us, wouldn’t you say, Michael?” Drax’s ghostly eyes looked accusingly at him. The patio’s becoming darker each minute by the encroaching fog. “So, how’s tricks, boy-o? Turned any lately?” Manetti returned a cold smile. “No, man. Lifetime ago,” he said, calmly sipping his drink. “Very happily married. Proud owner of The Plan B, which we live above.” He pointed to a lit window over them. “Part-time bartender, full-time husband.” “Not even a nibble?” “Not even a taste.” “I have to say, when you three ran off, a third of my stable initially went with it. That took a big hit on my livelihood. To tell you the God’s honest truth, devastated my livelihood, completely. Put me right out of business.” Manetti considered this. He tipped the glass to his lips, swallowed. “Never had much overhead, MD,” he said a bit confused. “Hard to see how that could’ve impacted you in any meaningful way.” “Meaningful.” Drax tries the word in his mouth. “Meaningful. Full of meaning.” In the feeble light he searched Manetti’s face through his cataracts. “You tell me, Michael, what meaning is there when a usurper comes and steals your favored boy, the only boy you want, and gets away clean? I’ll tell you what that means. It means the rest of the stable sees there’s no repercussion for abandonment, and the whole stable dismantles, the tower crumbles.” “Hold on,” Manetti said, brows tightly knit. “I’m supposed to feel sorry for getting away from you? You cut off my cock, fucker, planted a pussy on me, and I’m the one that should feel guilty about what happens to you?” He barked a mirthless laugh. “The night of the fire you’re lucky Ben and Chris talked me out of tracking you down. I would have been much more medieval on you than I was to the good doctor.” Drax pulled out another cigarette from his pack. He wasn’t done with the first and tried to light the new one from the old, but his hand shook too much to get it lit. Manetti just watched him struggle, feeling no pity, only disgust. Drax finally got his Camel to light and blew out an enormous stream of smoke. “Truth is, you were damaged long before I met you, Michael. I just removed the damaged part I saw that was rotting away.” Manetti grabbed the old man’s shirt across the bar, and pulled him partially over the bamboo top. He cocked back his other arm in a fist but not before Drax pulled out a snub nose pistol from his pocket. Manetti saw the gun, dropped him and took a step back. “Whoa, whoa,” he said, hands where Drax could see them. He’s making no fast moves but his brain is racing. “So,” he ventured, seeing if he could tamp down the situation, “you come cross-country just to kill me because, what, you miss Ben? Mineshaft closed more than ten years ago, Drax. Boys grow up. Birds fly from the nest.” “I came for the one point eight million you stole,” Drax hissed. Manetti’s hands are still in the air. “Okay,” he conceded. “Fair enough. You’re owed that. We can more than cover it.” “And for stealing Ben,” Drax spits. “Can you cover that?” Manetti didn’t have a comeback. Manetti’s heart was racing. “No, you’re right, you’re right.” Drax had him in a corner, emotionally, logically, physically. “I fucked you over. I’m sorry. You have every right.” But then, finding himself cornered, he felt a spark of anger he couldn’t hold back. “So castration isn’t enough,” he said darkly, “you have to off me, is that it?” Drax looked out through his white glowing eyes and slowly, viciously nodded yes. Manetti looked down, thoughtful, then looked at his drink. Looked at Drax. Saw nothing but the cold, dead eyes of a shark. “So I guess, cheers, to my rotten life, then, huh?” He’s pleading, reaching slowly for his drink, hoping Drax will grant him a dead man’s right for a last fortifying drink. Drax gave him a gummy smile. “Go ahead, boy-o. On the house,” he said, pulling back the gun’s hammer. Manetti raised this glass, saluted Drax, and then tossed the alcohol in Drax’s face. Drax fired and hit Manetti, but Manetti snatched his lighter, flicked the wheel, and put the flame to the old man’s long beard. The alcohol ignited his doused beard, face and hair, and Drax’s whole head, right up to his eyebrows, lit into one giant flame. He’s reeling back, a human matchstick. He’s screaming, slapping his head, stumbling, wobbling blindly all over the patio. He’s firing at empty air, senseless of where he was. Manetti smacked the gun out of his hand and kept pushing him back, again and again, toward the railing. Drax was still screaming, clutching his head, consumed in fire. At the railing, Manetti gave him a final tap, not even that hard, and the old man flew downward into the alley, landed head first with a snap. Bobo and Duke ran out soon after the gunshots. Mike was holding his shoulder by the railing, peering over at something. Bobo rushed to Mike to see the extent of his wound, while Duke gazed down, inspecting the singed, smoldering figure, its arms and legs bent out at unnatural angles, sprawled over the asphalt. Duke turned to Mike grimly, “I told you smoking could kill you.” *** Chris danced in front of Manetti, with Ben looking on encouragingly. Manetti tried not to smile. The ocean was calm, the harbor breeze warm. The night sky was a dome of lights, moonless. Chris was feeling good, a bit buzzed. He swayed his hips close to Mike perched on his barstool. Chris reached up to the top button of Mike’s flowered shirt. “Bamba la bamba,” he sang. “No,” said Manetti. Chris unbuttoned it anyway. He reached for the second button. “C’mon, knock it off,” Mike said batting Chris’ hand away. Chris went back and undid the second button and reached in his hand and felt Manetti’s massive, fur-covered chest. He leaned in and lightly brushed his lips, felt his scruffy dark beard. Manetti started breathing unevenly. Chris kissed him slowly, purposefully, sensually. Manetti relaxed, for the first time letting down his guard. Chris pulled away with a spark in his eye, undoing the flowered shirt’s last button revealing the man’s entire black pelt. Ben was behind him and removed the Hawaiian shirt and placed it on the bar. He kissed Manetti’s right shoulder, then his left, then the nape of his neck. He threaded his hands around Manetti’s chest, feeling his warmth and his racing heart. Chris grasped the man’s belt and Manetti stood up quickly and pushed Chris away. “I can’t,” he cried. “No. Don’t,” he pleaded. Chris got on his knees and unlatched the belt, started lowering the zipper. Manetti was never one for underwear, so when the shorts fell, he stood on the deck naked, exposed for all the world see. Chris bent in and kissed Manetti’s regrown bush, his soft black hair, brushed it delicately with his fingertips, drew a line along the soft pink lips. “Stop,” Manetti gasped. “It just a cunt.” “Not just, it’s you,” the young man said. “You is who I want.” He put his face between Manetti’s legs, breathed him in, licked Manetti. The unfamiliar sensation caused the man to heave a monumental breath, brought a sigh of pleasure but also one of confusion. Shaking he stepped back off balanced. Ben was there to catch him. Manetti felt weak, fought against his frailty. Turning his vulnerability to strength, he steeled himself, grabbing Chris and Ben by their hands and pulling them forcefully down to the master cabin. There he ripped off Chris shirt and tore off the boy’s pants, then combatively, ripped the buttons off Ben’s shirt, held his head forcefully, and sucked his face like he’d been wanting to every day for the past six months. Ben, still locked onto Manetti’s lips, slipped off his shorts. Chris came over and stuck his face close to theirs. Manetti pulled back as Chris kissed Ben’s bent forehead, then as Ben looked up at his brother, Chris kissed his cheek. Ben found Chris’ mouth, and slid his tongue over his brother’s tongue. Both men were erect, which Manetti took full advantage of. He suck his lover’s massive member, then his brother’s smaller but still generous meat. He stuck both their cocks in his mouth and tortured them, rubbing their cockheads against each other, sliding his tongue around them, making them leak in arousal. He grabbed some bedside lube and rubbed it on Chris and Ben erections, then on his front lips and between his cheeks. He positioned himself on his side pulling Chris down with him. Ben laid down in back. Manetti eased his butt, like so many times in the past, against Ben protruding erection. Ben’s stiff and metal adorned organ slowly slid inside Manetti, familiar and so welcome. Chris faced Mike and held his cock at Mike’s new lips and looked in his eyes. Mike gave him a smile of permission, and Chris slowly, sensually parted Mike’s virginal lips. Chris rubbed his dick up and down, rhythmically finding he could part Mike’s body. Mike helped by rocking back on Ben’s cock, allowing it to penetrate him deeply, then rocked forward to take a bit, an inch, then two, of Chris’s cock. There was electricity in the dark cabin, palpable breath on a face, on a neck, mouth against mouth, inhalations and exhalations exchanged. A painful tearing of skin, slowly, erotically. Of all the collective torture they’d been through, this was the most protracted and agonizing. Like a band aid slowly being ripped off, one cell at a time. Tension and desire continually traded places, body parts awash in lubricants, smoothly flowing, painfully, exhilaratingly, new sensations every second between three men who found they were heading into unexplored territory. Mike felt the violation of his organ, both past and present, ravishing him, making him loose control. Once past the initial pain, at first the pleasure was too intense, but the allure of submitting to two men stroking inside his body, became intensely satisfying. Then, after accepting the satisfaction, he recognized he could invert it. Suddenly he felt more in control of them than they were of him. Writhing between them, he was in charge of their pleasure. He controlled their body’s rhythm, granting them unending satisfaction through his rhythmic, velvety undulations, granting them the pleasure they sought within his body. Chris whispered almost inaudible, “Oh, fuck Ben. I feel you.” Their faces so close together not a breath escaped detection by any of them. The three shared this discovering. “I feel you, too, brah,” said Ben deep inside Mike. The closer he drew into Mike, the more Ben’s cock pressed against a wall that barely separated him from his brother. Ben withdrew and slid in deep with each stroke, not only thrilling Mike but also erotically rubbed under Chris’ cockhead. Not one of the three of them saw this coming. They gasped at the orchestra of sensation flowing through their bodies, the variety of pitch and crescendos they could produce. Chris was almost in to his balls, when Manetti cried out in pain. They halted abruptly. They caught their collective breath. No one moved. Chris slowly eased all the way out fearing he’d damaged Mike. But the look on Manetti’s face showed how amorous he still felt, how much he wanted Chris back inside. Ben never left Mike’s ass. One of life’s greatest feelings for Manetti was having Ben’s full python buried deeply inside him. He nudged Ben until Ben fell onto his back pulling Manetti along with him. Then Manetti rocked on top of him, rising forward to impale himself in a squatting position. He bobbed in a wave of lust against his lover’s groin, sending waves of pleasure careening through both their bodies. He smiled lewdly at Chris, his hands parting his new lips, inviting the young man to come back in. Mike fingering his twat was an obscene gesture that excited the fuck out of Chris. He knelt like he was in church in front of the holy alter of Mike, as Mike reclined back spreading his legs, fall back onto Ben’s chest. Chris slipped in cautiously, but increasingly giving into his arousal, his desire to fuck Manetti as deeply and as hard as he could. Chris never imagined he could share in such a complicated arrangement, of boomeranging and ricocheting needs and lust-filled desires. He made out with Mike as his cock rocked inside the man, then found his brother’s face alongside Mike and satisfied his forbidden, incestuous appetite, discovering how deep within Mike he could fuck against his brother’s hard, massive cock. How could they know how good this would feel, how tangled their emotions would entwined, how bound together their souls would become? They united in the moment, tonight, tomorrow, for a lifetime. Manetti felt the brothers shudder together, felt how wet he suddenly was, leaking out both sides of his body as the brothers continued to quake. And somewhere within, sliding against his core, against his body’s tectonic plates, a quake overtook him too, pulled him over a vista and he could see how this could all work out. He shuddered in gratification of the corruption and purity of this comingling of brothers cumming within him at this moment. They gasped, all breathing unevenly, laid there motionless except for the rising and falling of their chests. Chris was the first to make a move, cascading them all to the side, all still holding each other for dear life. Had this even a chance of continuing? Just because it hadn’t been done before it still could be done. It’d be messy and complicated. They’d expect no understanding from others. Gee, didn’t that already sound all too familiar? Chris and Mike looked at each other with faces radiating satiation, Ben kissing the swirling hairs, the soft opera of Manetti’s neck. They lay quietly for a long time. Then Mike exploded. “Alright, you fucking perverts,” he roared between them, snapping into drill sergeant mode. He quickly and rudely untangled their cocks from his body. Rising off the bed, he grabbed the grease. “Prior brothers!” he barked. “Edge of bed with your asses in the air! Now!” He greased both his hands greedily. “It’s time you boys ride the Manetti Chariot!” He smacked both their asses hard. They responded, excitedly bounding to their knees, aligning next to each other on all fours, pulling and playing with each other’s floppy cocks like naughty schoolboys, while Mike lined up his fingers against their holes. Ben draped his arm over Chris’ shoulder and Chris draped his arm over his big brother’s. “And don’t expect me to take it easy on either one of you sick fucks,” Manetti growled, plunging deep inside their cavities.

We should definitely meet up sometime and exchange our toxic poz strains. I'm from Los Angeles Southern California and your from Sacramento northern California.

I had a thick-dicked top want to breed me. His ad said "bring over a couple of beers, and I'll drink them while I fuck you." Based on the size of cock in the ad, I was willing to give hookup a chance and pick up a couple of beers, but when I asked him how many and what type, he said he wanted a case/suitcase of Busch. Yeah ... needless to say, we didn't hook up.

Hello Brackento, You are correct. Even with modern technology, Berliners do like the real world action; and it is evident at the sex parties and in the dark rooms. Berlin will be a great place to enjoy the raunchy side of yourself. I now go three or four times a year. Anything goes! You can expect an unbelievable amount of raunchiness at various venues. And if you look good in fetish wear, you are in luck; many bars and sex parties have themes during the Easter weekend. Of course, being Germans, the Berliners are strict about dress codes. The Snax party starts at 11pm or midnight and goes well into the late morning on Sunday. Fetish gear is required for entry and the door staff check to make sure that you are wearing or carrying appropriate clothing. In general, fetish would be leather, rubber, skin head, athletic wear and uniforms. Do know that athletic wear is extremely popular as fetish wear, not only at Snax, but for any general fetish party. Expect a long wait at the door if you get there any time before 3-4am. The lab.oratory also has its naked party on Thursday night, traditionally opening up more of the space due to the extra visiting crowds. There is a biohazardmen.eu party Friday night that is wall-to-wall bareback fucking and a Coffe and Cream party on Monday evening this year, another bareback party. Both parties encourage "sexy" wear, with lots of guys wearing jock straps. Additionally, the bar Scheune has a naked party on Sunday evening. Do check the listings, as many bars have specific dress code parties for the Easter weekend. New Action and Mutchmann's are traditional leather and fetish bars that will have specific themes at Easter too. Oh, one of my favorites is the bar called Bull. It is open 24 hours a day and is as sleazy as it gets, with all types of people there having fun. It is busy very late, usually packed at 6am and later. Go and enjoy the uninhibited nature of Berlin The downside, for me anyway, is when I return to the USA and have to cope with our conservative gay ways. Also, expect hundreds of people to be at various venues, and thousands at Snax!! Helpful sites are: www.siegessaeule.de, which has an "English Calendar of Events;" www.biohazardmen.eu, which describes the biohazardmen party; and the Official Easter Berlin site https://www.easterberlin.de/en/easter-berlin/veranstaltungen. Enjoy chiilfuck

You are my kind of bottom. I have always been outraged by those bottoms who do not understand that their role is to just take cock and cum. Who the hell do they think they are?!?

Part 5 The stranger rammed his cock all the way into my hole and all I could do was moan and beg him to fuck me. He just laughed and said “I already came in your sloppy cumdump, faggot. How many loads are inside you now?” “Five. And I need a lot more. How long till you can get hard again?” He just laughed and ripped his cock out of my hole. I felt so empty and needed to be filled with cock and, of course, more sperm. Lots more sperm. “Next,” the stranger said. Another man I couldn’t see lined his cock up at my asshole and started to pound me. I felt like I was living my destiny. Taking cock and cum from a man I couldn’t see. It’s what my daddy raised me for. I didn’t care what he looked like, I just needed his load breeding my sloppy cumdump. Chris and I both had our asses in the air for quite a while, taking all the cocks that our buddies had arranged for, from the BBRT and CL ads and from my phone profiles. Four or five other guys I couldn’t see (or rather, I didn’t bother to look at) bred my cunt and I could vaguely tell that people were coming and going from Dean’s apartment, but I wasn’t really sure who’s cock was in my cunt. I didn’t care. I was in heaven. Then I heard a familiar voice saying “flip over faggot, I wanna see your face.” It was my Dad. He was standing there in all his hairy, muscled, fat cocked glory. Waiting to breed his whore of a son. “Hi Daddy!” I said. A couple of the randos looked at us weird. But their dicks didn’t get soft. “Hey, baby boy. Your cunt full of cum? Have you been doing what Jose, Dean and Eric have been asking you to do, like a good boy?” “Yes, Daddy!,” they’ve been whoring me out all afternoon. I don’t even know how many loads I’ve taken, Daddy.” “I do, son,” he said. “The boys have been keeping track of how many loads have gone up your sexy little furry cunt. You’re up to 15 now. That’s quite a feat, son. You ready for 16?” “I’m always ready for your load, Daddy. Breed it into me, use all those strangers’ loads for lube. My cunt is leaking like fucking crazy. There’s jizz everywhere.” I laid back on the bed and pulled my legs over my shoulders, showing off my leaky, puffy cunt. Daddy laughed and rammed his cock home where it belonged. In the cunt that was his property because he made it. “Fuck Daddy,” I said. Your cock is always the best. “That’s right son. The cock that bred you is the one that always gets to rape you first and last.” I moaned loudly as Daddy’s cock slid into me. Chris leaned over and passed me a shotgun and told me how hot he thought my Daddy was. “You think he’d like to breed me?” My Daddy was one of the hottest men in the room, despite being older than all of them. Daddy takes good care of himself, and his hairy muscled body and fat uncut dick turned everyone on. “Of course he would. Daddy loves fucking dirty whores like us.” Chris laughed and the hairy stranger raping his hole grunted and said “fuck, I’m about to come. Nasty little pig. Want my load? Can’t last long fucking this sloppy cunt………” He moaned loudly and stopped moving. I could see his nuts pumping another load of jizz into Chris’ dumpster. “You fucking pig, another load for you,” I said. “Daddy’s gonna give me another load, but he can cum again really fast so he’ll be able to load you up, too.” “Fuck yeah, I can’t wait.” Chris took another hit off the pipe and passed it along to me. Daddy paused in his reaming of my gaping cunt and took the shotgun from me, and got a dirty grin on his face. “Daddy’s a pig too, son.” He blew the smoke out and continued fucking me, harder this time. I was moaning constantly, begging him for his load. “Fuck Daddy! I need your cum inside me. Please breed me!” Daddy laughed and said “always begging for loads, just like I taught you. Good boy. Here’s another one for you son. Tell me what you want!” “Please breed me daddy! Fill me full of your sperm! I need another load. Fucking knock me up Daddy!” He sped up and kept reaming my cunt out until he shouted “Take my fucking load you whore.” I could feel his throbbing cock shooting its load of sperm inside me. “Thank you Daddy! You now I'm just a whore for cocks.” He laughed. “Daddy raised a nasty little faggot didn’t he?” “You sure did, Daddy. I love your cock inside me more than anyone’s.” Daddy caught his breath and leaned down to kiss me. He whispered in my ear “I heard you offering my load to your little whore friend. He’s cute. Once I fuck him we’re gonna get outta here. I have a surprise for you." I had no idea what he was talking about, but it sounded filthy. I was spun and horny as fuck and only wanted more loads inside me. I leaned over to Chris and told him Daddy was gonna fuck him (he had another stranger breeding him right then). “Fuck yeah,” he said. “ I can’t wait.” Dean laid down on the bed next to me while another stranger, a short, hairy 25ish man with a huge cock walked up and shoved his cock in my cunt in one shove. He didn’t need any lube, of course, I had…how many loads in my ass? I realized I had no idea. I was spun and couldn’t remember. Just like a good whore should be. I knew Dean was keeping track. I moaned involuntarily and looked up at the man who was fucking me. He was really hot and I thanked him for his cock and begged for his load. He kept on fucking me while I moaned loudly and begged him to breed me. Dean leaned over and passed me another shotgun and said “Your Dad is so fucking hot.I loved watching him fuck you. Look how he’s going to town on Chris’ sloppy dumpster just a few minutes after he came inside you. He’s a nasty fucker. I can see where you got it from.” I looked over and there was my super hot Daddy, balls deep in Chris. I grinned at Chris and said “doesn’t my Daddy have the hottest fucking cock?” Chris moaned a reply, “fuck yes……his cock feels amazing.” Daddy laughed and said “your sloppy fagdump feels amazing, boy.” Dean gave me another shotgun and grinned at me. “Be right back,” he said. Dean got up and I saw him reach into a large baggie and take something out with his finger. He walked behind Daddy and pushed it into Daddy’s hole. Daddy was startled and said “What the fuck? Dean. Fuck. OH. FUCK.” Daddy stopped fucking Chris and stood still while Dean shoved his index finger all the way up Daddy’s hole. Daddy bent over onto Chris’ chest and moaned. “Dean, you fucker.” Then he started to laugh and pushed his ass all the way down onto Dean’s finger. I figured it was going to be a long evening. That surprise might have to wait.

10. A Record of Mike and Ben Mike and Ben captured in a photo lie under a magnet on the refrigerator. Mike wears a goofy, stoned smile and Ben looks supremely happy, happier than he ever had a right to be. We like to think photos stop time, but they’re really markers of time passing. We say photos “capture” us and they do. They’re traps, like tar pits or quicksand that stop us in our tracks. We shed the image, leave it behind like a skin, and we move on leaving our past self preserved in celluloid, or pixels, or amber. A photo is “shot,” you “take” a picture. And you pay a price for this tiny immortality, you, who always will exist at that moment, in that frame of mind, never changing, never growing another day older, innocent of the future course your life will take. They’re breadcrumbs, we believe, that will bring us back to our original selves, as if there were such a thing. We collect these images and put them in a box of memories, or in an album that sits on a shelf, or in the attic long forgotten. The more industrious of us sell the most salacious ones. Think Drax. The brilliant make them art, think Mapplethorpe, objectifying their subject; that is, make them an object of desire, whether the sculpted form of a black dancer, the long stamen of a calla lily, or a close-up of a ten-inch cock. This objectification, this simulacrum—merely a representation of the thing itself—exists in the humble Instamatic vacation snapshot, or the family posed and idealized at Thanksgiving through a Brownie lens, or the selfie we take pressing a button, our phone held aloft, revealing our junk in a bathroom mirror to an indifferent, anonymous world where we hope someone will notice. We do this to ourselves, as we do unto others, capturing a moment, taking a slice out of time, interrupting life’s unrelenting progress, its numbing continuity, in exchange for a piece of eternity. That, my brothers, is the bargain—and what a bargain it is. *** Jesus Christ Almighty, did this guy who how to fuck! Ben, as a top, was a power driver, pounding away at any available man cunt or boy pussy that was under him, only every now and then tuning in to see how his bottom was doing. And that was purely optional. But this guy who was fucking him? Damn! The way he closely surveyed Ben, every twist and turn of his big uncut Italian dick registering in some lewd and impactful way, he was there, in the moment, with his big brown eyes looking down, checking how his cock was making Ben feel. Most guys at the baths, himself included, were there to get off, but, Shit! this guy in the public area was sending him to the moon. No, not the moon but Pluto or whatever was beyond that. And purposely doing it for all to see. And he, Ben, was on his second round of cumming. Think of that! He didn’t even leave after he got off. He came once by this guy, yes, but this fucking guy wasn’t letting him go anywhere so soon. He was still drilling into him, wildly, bucking against him like a stallion, pressing Ben’s feet against his shoulders, fucking him like he was his bitch—oh, he was—spreading his legs, pressing deep into his hole, then twisting him around, screwing him literally one-eighty, setting him upright on his knees, doing him, pulling him back, driving him wild until—Ben couldn’t believe it—Ben was the one slamming his ass back on this guy’s long and extra-wide boner, humping it like a drugged up whore—which, okay, he was—but still, he couldn’t get enough of this fucking guy’s shit! The guy let Ben fuck himself silly on his big ol’ Johnson, that is until he (fuck, what’s your name again?), Manetti, chose to drive, and then he, Manetti, would just hold Ben’s hips stationery and undulated like a snake, slapping Ben’s ass like he was some fucked up cowboy smacking his horse, slithering and slamming, bucking and ramming into his hole again and again, then climb all over him, mounting him higher, throwing his hairy brown legs over Ben’s butt and just fucking the shit out him. Fuck! It drove Ben insane, and that was the point, wasn’t it? He wanted to drive Ben crazy in front of this crowd, which started off with a couple of bystanders, but now was a group of around twenty men, whacking their oh-yeahs, watching this horny ass stud fucking this other horny ass stud. What was it? Twice they’d flipped? No one kept count. The sight was its own aphrodisiac that made men watch for a while, then suck off or fuck their neighbor. You couldn’t help yourself. The Italian would unmount and take Ben from the side for the bath house to observe, holding Ben’s right leg high up in the air, Ben’s enormous cock bobbing hard in front, lying next to him, making sure he knew the Italian was in charge. (For now.) And slide repeated up his chute, reaching around, seeing where Ben was at. Was he still hard? Was he close to coming? How did this feel if he torpedoed into his butt like this? How did Ben feel if he slowed it down, a nightcrawler in his ass, smoky Barry White bass strokes, almost sliding out, then fucking shooting back in, hard, hurtful, audacious? Did he feel fucked and controlled in front of the crowd? Did he like being controlled? Did he like everyone seeing he was a fucking bottom toy to this hairy wop? Dealer’s choice, pal. The amazing thing, the thing that got him hooked, that made him want to see him outside of the bath house, afterward, for a lifetime, was that when he heard him cum, when he whispered in his ear he was cumming, he still kept fucking him after he shot. Not only was he a good fucker, he was a giving fucker. He allowed Ben to get off while he still poked his chute. But Ben wasn’t going to let this fucker off that easy. After Ben felt cum dripping out his hole, he pushed the guy off and, to the bath house’s amazement and captivation, Ben flipped the fucker for the second, or was it a third time, sticking him with his patented Big Ben dongle. How’d he like that, motherfucker? Wham, bam, and now Manetti’s legs were spread in the air, Ben rapidly jack hammering that sexy, hairy Italian ass. Ben fucked the living shit out of him. Plowed him, swirled his hips, gyrated into him like the guy was all seven cars on a Tilt-O-Whirl, spinning him like a top till Manetti’s big uncut cock was hard again and leaking as severely as a faulty water hose. *** There was a sound of trickling water. It reminded him he had to pee. His vision was cloudy but he was sitting up. There was greenery around him, a wall of bricks, something gleaming white. Okay, what was that? It had a name: oh, a white fountain. The white fountain had three tiers dribbling a constant stream, splashing away in the quiet garden. Ivy hung on trellises over the brick. He looked to the sky and felt dizzy. Clouds drifted overhead, four stories above. He watched the clouds for a while trying to focus, trying to remember, but found it impossible, like gauze wrapped his brain. Why couldn’t his hands move? Goddamn he had to pee, wished the fountain would stop reminding him of it. His head fell forward heavily. He noticed his arms were bound with plastic ties to the rails of a chair. His right arm had a tube that ran to an IV bottle standing next to him. The chair had wheels. It had a name: a wheelchair. Why was he in a wheelchair, with an IV in him, in a small, private garden, sitting across from a wrought iron bench with metallic flowers swirling as a backrest? The white fountain continued to flow. At the top was a frog whose mouth sprayed upward a small finger of water. He had to pee. He couldn’t stop it now if he tried. His bladder flowed and he waited for the humiliation of wetting himself, but it didn’t happen. No stain spreading in his hospital gown, no splashing on the stone pavement below. He looked up at a man sitting down in the wrought iron bench watching him, watching a colostomy bag start to fill with brownish urine. The man’s name was Drax. He remember that much, but someone was covering the sun. The garden was growing dark. The trickling fountain grew faint, till there was no sound. No light. Nada. *** Ben gave his step-dad the finger. His mom yelling but why New York over his step-dad yelling what kind of job do you get offered in a bar, while eight-year-old Chris stood on the curb crying rare tears. Ben knelt down to his little brother. “You be brave, buddy,” he told him. “You just wait. We’re going to be together again, just wait and see.” All he had was his wallet, his windbreaker, and a business card that had a Bel Air Motel room number on it. He left everything else behind, his record collection, his clothes, his pot, his porn. But it was Chris he felt the deepest pain abandoning. But what was he supposed to do? He was just eighteen. Two weeks before his step-dad jumped him out in the front yard for being insubordinate. Insubordination was a big thing with that stupid ass, all former marine, all present-day dick. In a reversal from earlier fist fights, John, his step-dad, received most of the punches before the police came. John was stronger, way stronger, but Ben was angrier, insanely mad, in fact, lost it, on how the guy treated his mom and especially on how he beat his little brother. Chris could be a pest, he knew that, but he never deserved the physical drubbing and mental abuse John doled out. But he was eighteen and had no Plan B, just had to get out at that moment, or wait for the police to arrive and arrest him. That was John’s threat anyway, accusing Ben of dealing pot out of their house. No matter how much Ben argued he was just holding for a friend, partly true, alright, he was lying through his ass—still, dealing pot in their rundown neighborhood, where the nearby penitentiary let out its cons? Seriously? Where if you wanted to score something harder all you had to do was hang out at the local Burger King? Where at the nearby Bel Air Motel, you could have a girl by the hour, or a boy, or anything in between. Dude, c’mon. Open your fucking eyes, John! Look where we live! Which was what Ben spat out, fed up with this shit. John, of course, who’d had it up to here with Ben and his insubordinate mouth shoved him out the door. Dirty faggot! That was the straw. Ben flipped him the bird. Walking away as pissed off as he’d ever been, then walking quickly down the street because of the approaching siren, he turned down an alley and pulled a card out from his jacket. He examined it. Three Jolly Rogers, their three cross bones spelling out X X X and Drax Enterprises in raised type underneath. He flipped it over. Room #12, it read in chicken-scratch script. Drax was this older biker dude he’d met in the alley behind the Tic-Toc Bar where he dealt weed. Okay, let’s pretend that that how he made his money. Sure, we’ll go with that for now. Lot of bikers hung out there so Drax didn’t really stand out much, just one of many forty-year-old plus leather losers mixed in with the ex-cons. You try to pick out which is which. A lot of the patrons knew Ben since he was a kid. Many lusted after him. Why not? This stony, surfer dude act he had down pat. Also his herb had a good reputation. Imported from Hawaii, distributed through a Samoan classmate who dealt large quantities, it was a gazillion times better than its Mexican cousin. Maui Waui, Thai Stick, and Purple Rhino were his most popular brands. Hanging out with some of his regulars, he’d do a doobie with a few of them in their homes or motel rooms. One thing might lead to another. Not that he turned tricks for a living—which is what he told himself at first—but it was just a little extra income. He had a nice stash of cash saved up and thought he’d get his own apartment, before John busted in on him as he was weighing out baggies in his bedroom. I mean the guy didn’t even knock. He knew John had been looking for a reason to boot him out since June when he graduated. So stars converged, bridges got burned, his stock got confiscated after he stormed out, and little brother got left behind. He climb the Bel Air Motel’s back staircase looking for Room #12. He actually liked the sleaziness of the Bel Air Motel. It was part of how he got off. He’d turned not just a few tricks—there, we’re admitting it now—in the past few months. It was conveniently close to the Tic-Toc so quite a few nights some rough customer he enjoyed getting high with, who’d bring Jack Daniels back to the motel room, he and whoever would have a little party. He found a lot of these older guys were just lonely or had an old lady back home with some snot-nosed kids, and they just wanted to get laid, man. No strings, okay, but twenty bucks for whatever. Sometimes they’d want to fuck him, which he didn’t like so much, but it did pay good, or they’d want to get fucked, which was his preference. Or sometime they just wanted to get their cock sucked or suck his not insignificant Big Ben. Or sometimes they’d just pay to talk. Thoughts on God, on marriage, on why they gave up on their dreams, rationalizing whatever the fuck was stuck in their craw that night. Ben was no therapist. He’d sit there staring at the guy going through some mid-life whatever, and he’d zone out, drunk, stoned, watch words trip out their beards. Maybe some spit when their ideas got intense. It was crazy they would pay to just blather. Sex made much more sense. Officially he was barred from the Tic-Toc Bar. Got busted there a few years back even with his fake ID. But the owner, Tony, a widower in his late fifties, who’d spent a few good times with him—nudge, nudge—at his nearby house, let him hang out in the alley, would sneak him a beer in exchange for a few puffs off his joint every now and then. The night he met Drax there was a rare summer downpour. Most rainy nights Tony took pity, would let Ben come in through the back where he could stay if he sat at the corner of the bar, out of sight, close to the back exit just in case. If the fuzz came, Ben was to slip out quietly, no harm, no foul. He was sipping his Jack and coke, when Drax slid onto the barstool next to him. “How much?” Drax asked. “How much what,” Ben said looking forward, observing Drax in the bar’s gold veined mirror. “How much you want?” Drax answered. Ben tried to get a bead on this guy. “Depends on what you want,” Ben replied, taking another sip of his drink. He didn’t know if the guy was looking for weed or was playing him for a hustler. Didn’t matter which, he’d copped to both sides of that coin, he just wanted to know which the guy was after. “Let start with you.” Drax offered him a smoke, which Ben accepted. Drax flicked open his lighter and lit both their cigarettes. “Well,” said Ben, looking at Drax directly, exhaling a cloud into the air. Short cropped grey hair, grey beard, dark eyes with deep, dark circles underneath. H-A-T-E tattooed on the digits of one hand. F-U-C-K tattooed on the other. “Depends on what you want to do.” Drax draped himself over the bar, looked into Ben’s face. “I don’t want to do anything. I want to know how much to buy you.” The man took a long drag. “Outright. Permanently,” he said flatly, the words exhaled through smoke. Ben howled. Tony came over behind the bar to make sure Ben kept his promise of maintaining a low profile. The bar wasn’t crowded, the juke box had ended, and the old guy and the young hustler at the end of the bar were the prime attraction. “Permanently? Doesn’t work that way. Sorry friend,” Ben said, finishing his drink. He gave Tony a two finger salute and went out the back door. It was really coming down now. You could smell the heavy salt air blowing in from the ocean. The beach was a few blocks away but with the wind roaring, you could hear waves crashing and imagine the waves were spraying right over you. He turned up the collar of his thin windbreaker, resigned to the fact that he’d be a soaking mess by the time he got home. Suddenly, there was a figure next to him. It was the guy from the bar walking at his pace. “You already know this,” the man said over the wind, “but you have something men want. You know this.” “I know this?” Ben said, without looking at him, his blond hair dripping down his face. “How do I know this?” “I see you do. Don’t be a coy little pansy shit. You know what you have has value and it’s not just what’s swinging between your legs. But what’s between these ears,” the man said, tapping Ben’s temple. The moment he touched Ben, Ben stopped and looked at him. “Dude, how many ways I gotta say this? I’m not for sale—permanent or otherwise.” The man looked amused. He pulled out a business card and wrote on the back. He handed it to Ben, and said, “For when you figure out what that price is, come up and we can begin a negotiation. What you will do, what you won’t, and what you want to become. I'll make it happen.” He pivoted and headed back to the bar. He called back over his shoulder, “I’m here till Monday then I go back to New York, with or without you.” Ben was about to toss the card in the gutter but he felt a flicker of flattery. Something vague, something vulgar, something exciting, something that made him feel maybe there was something he was meant for besides turning tricks out of a back alley. The guy was probably some lonely old fart that wanted to blow him or blow smoke up his ass. But he put the card in his pocket anyway and continued marching forward in the gale and spray. *** The second floor recovery suite had a hospital bed that looked out the tall French windows. Typically reserved for celebrity patients whose black limousines secreted them through the basement garage, brought up here to this charming suite that overlooked a lovely garden, where the celebrity would await surgery—face lift, nose job, breast implant, pec implant, penis enlargement, foreskin restoration, whatever—and afterward, recuperate for as long as they wished in the self-contained suite, complete with kitchenette and valet service, resting downstairs in the lush backyard garden, or lounging on the rooftop that commanded a stunning view of midtown and Central Park, sipping a Mai Tai from the outdoor bar. The roof was a perfect spot to visit with a spouse, or rendezvous with a lover, or to reveal to one’s entourage the surgery’s amazing results. Voila! Un tout nouveau vous. An all new you. The French windows, which opened onto a small balcony, were parted. A pleasant late afternoon breeze ruffled chiffon curtains. Once again he woke to the fountain dribbling softly below. His arms, once again, were anchored with plastic ties to the bed’s aluminum side rails. The large television console was playing a daytime game show. The sound was muted. A heavyset blonde woman on the game show was choosing between a new car and a new kitchen. Consternation filled her face. Consternation filled Manetti’s face. His bound hands didn’t make sense. Then, like a lightning bolt, pain struck his groin and he tried to crunch into a ball. At the same time, a man in a white lab coat, followed closely by a bald intern he definitely remembered, came in and checked the instruments Manetti was hooked up to. The lab coated guy stuck a needle in his arm and injected him. He instantly went numb, the pain evaporated, but he couldn’t move anything except his eyes. The lab coated guy lifted Manetti’s hospital gown and felt up Manetti’s crotch. Manetti saw him under his hospital gown but felt nothing. The pain was gone and was replaced by, not even numbness, nothing. The curtains stirred and he at least expected to feel the breeze but nothing registered. The lab coat guy removed some bloody bandages from beneath his gown. “Barkley,” the man said, addressing the orderly. “Take a look. I’d say this is the best I’ve ever done.” The orderly, Barkley, had droopy eyes and carried himself like a dolt, his fat lips hanging. He took a look under Manetti’s gown and sneered lecherously, “Fuck, doctor. I’d eat that.” “Not for a while, Barkley. Mustn’t rush it,” said the doctor. “Let it heal then you can have all the fun you want.” Manetti eyes quivered in alarm. His heart monitor started beeping wildly, the screen spiked with rapid fire bolts. He tried to speak but whatever the doctor had given him made all his muscles useless. “Bring me the fids,” the doctor said calmly, pointing to a case by the door. While the doctor slipped on latex gloves, Barkley brought over a small case, and opened it. Inside were a series of long cone-shaped brass posts, which ran from a half inch in diameter and three inches in length, up to the largest, a fid two inches in diameter and seven inches in length. The doctor selected the smallest fid, applied KY jelly over it, and brought it under Manetti’s gown. Manetti felt nothing physically, but emotionally he was frantic. The doctor followed up the fid insertion with a heavy gauze pad and adhesive tape. On the television, the fat woman was jumping up and down in her new kitchen. “Let’s let the patient rest,” the doctor said, and twisted a nob on the IV drip. Manetti felt the light fading, his head falling back, and a dawning terror surfacing, which crept with him into the darkness. “For now, change his colostomy bag. And in the morning, Barkley, bring our guest up to the roof for some sun. He looks awfully pale.” *** He pretty much new Room #12 was at the end the second floor by the ice machine. He knocked. Silence. He looked over the railing at the parking lot below. The San Diego freeway buzzed a block away. A black Camero gleaming below caught his attention, one of the only cars in the parking lot. It was Saturday afternoon. A nice California day. By six o’clock the motel would be hopping, by midnight the No Vacancy sign would be lit. He was about to leave when the curtain inside pulled back revealing the guy from the bar who gave him the business card. The door opened and the man blinked at Ben. He thought the man had forgotten who he was. “I met you at Tic-Toc. You gave me this.” Ben flashed the business card. “I know who you are. Are you ready to come in?” he asked. Ben went inside. He flopped casually in the only armed chair in the room. Drax sat at the desk and waited. “So, man, what’s this permanently jazz?” Ben asked. The man looked him up and down. “Far, far down the road, boy.” The man picked up a cigarette smoldering in an ashtray and inhaled. He smiled coldly, exhaling. “First step. Allow me to take some Polaroids.” He took a camera off the desk, and pointed it at Ben. “Test photos. Take off your jacket and shirt.” Ben took out a cigarette pack from his jacket, picked out a joint. “Mind if I…?” he asked. The man said nothing. Ben sat back, lit it and took a long drag while he stared back at the man. He took a second drag, and still the guy sat at the desk holding his camera saying nothing. Ben made a decision, put the joint in the ashtray and took off his jacket, sat back and gave the joint another toke. The man remained silent. “Okay, then,” Ben said, and pulled off his shirt displaying his broad, tan chest. He was just beginning to sport hair at his breast bone, and a few dark hairs spouted around his nipples. Against his well-defined abs, a brown treasure trail began at his navel and disappeared at his belt. “Why don’t you sit on the edge of the bed,” Drax suggested. “Take the joint with you, if you like.” Ben got up and sat on the bed. Drax flashed the camera, and the Polaroid went through its noisy mechanics and spat out a blank photo. While Ben gave the joint a couple more tokes, the image of Ben’s eighteen-year-old perfect surfer self came to life. Drax showed him his picture and he like what he saw. Serious, a bit sketchy, a bit innocent, dirty blond hair in a ponytail, a long sculpted nose, suspicious blue eyes, a thin mouth with thick lips, pinching a joint in his fingers. “What I expected,” Drax said. “Take off your shoes and pants.” Ben kinda liked the idea of being photographed. He kicked off his shoes and took off socks. Drax observed him as he stripped. Ben unbuckled his belt, let his jeans drop to the floor and stepped out of them. “Get up by the headboard, slip your hand in your boxers.” Ben was also getting into being directed. Usually a trick would let him improvise however he wanted as long as it led to a blow job or a fuck. But it seemed this guy knew exactly what he wanted and it wasn’t that. It was more like he was getting into Ben head and sculpting him in a way. He sat at the headboard and felt his hardening cock through his fly. Drax flashed another shot. Ben took one last hit and stubbed the roach out on the bed’s side table ashtray. As was his routine after getting a buzz, he went back over to his pack of cigarettes, his cock tenting in his shorts, took out a smoke and lit it. On the way over to the headboard, Drax told him to drop the boxers and just sit on the side of the bed. Ben did. Thought it odd all the guy wanted was to take naked Polaroids of him smoking. Drax stood away from him by the door and flashed a wide shot. There was a knock. Drax cracked the door. “You ready for us,” a deep voice outside said. Drax opened the door and let in two men, a black guy and a white guy, both in their early thirties. Ben knew instantly they were ex-cons by the black guy’s builds and both their wary eyes. The black guy reeked of penitentiary muscle, was a couple inches taller than Ben, which put him at around six-two, six-three. Rock hard shoulders and arms, with a slim prison food waists. The white guy had mousy brown hair, was sorta pudgy, shorter than the other guy, and had a severely receding hairline. “Whoo-ya,” said the black guy smiling ear to ear, checking out the naked surfer on the bed sporting a nice big woody. His partner said to Drax, “So, c-note for each time we fuck him? Shit, Daddy,” he laughed, “we’d pay you that much for such a pretty tail.” The black guy went to the bedside ashtray and picked out the half-finished joint. “Skootch over, Pony boy,” he said relighting the reefer. “You gonna be my bitch tonight?” Ben said to Drax, “I usually don’t like to get fucked.” “Did I ask what you like?” Drax replied. “This is Zion and Dave. They got out of lockup this morning, so they’ve got a lot of, uh, energy stored up. You’re going to need stamina. You up for it?” Drax asked. Ben shrugged his shoulders probably yes. Drax took out a small kit with several orange capped points in it. “This will help. You’ve slammed before, yes?” Ben shook his head no, uneasy, but not afraid. “Ah, lemme do him, Daddy,” Dave, the white thug, begged. Drax smiled indulgently. He gave the first syringe to the con. “Let’s see that arm, Scooter,” he said, feeling Ben’s forearm. “Make me a fist. So many choices.” He made a lip-smacking sound and pop in the needle, registered and signed Ben off. “See ya on the other side, man.” Ben fell back on the bed wild-eyed. Zion rubbed his smooth chest and pinched a nipple. “You feel good, don’t’cha, Pony boy?” “Oh, shit,” breathed Ben. He brought his knees to his chest in a fetal position. Zion wet his finger and traced Ben’s butthole. Ben jumped up, excited. “Oh, fuck, man. Fuck!” “Ready to get gangbanged? Here, put on this dirty jock while these boy’s get do themselves. No soft cocks in my films,” Drax said. Zion and Dave took up their rigs, while Drax brought out a large camcorder. Ben put on the jock, his erection hanging out the side, and sat breathing heavily on the bed’s edge. There was another knock. Zion, who was taking off his shoes on the second bed next to the door, he reached up and opened it. Three more felons came in, nodding to everyone in the room. Some knew each other, some not. Didn’t matter. This wasn’t a social call. “Hang up your clothes next to the bathroom,” directed Drax. “Get hard. Even if you’re not in the shot,” Drax instructed, “I want you hard. You can suck each other if you want, but don’t cum. No fucking, except to fuck this kid. Anybody got STDs?” A tall big dicked Irish guy, his shirt still on but pants on the floor, raised his hand tentatively. “Clap,” he said. “Okay, just so you all know, in case any of you do any felching. It’s on you, but felching will get you three c's, if that’s incentive, just snowball it to the kid, don’t swallow.” Drax opened a second camcorder case. “Mac,” he said to the guy with gonorrhea, “you’re my second camera when you’re not fucking him. Okay, so everyone’s clear. One c-note for each money shot. No money shot, no money. Let me hear it when you nut. Don’t think anyone hear is shy, right?” The men all laughed. “Kid, why don’t you break the ice and start sucking Zion’s big snake. Get your bubble butt in the air.” Drax turned on the camera as Zion spread his legs at the headboard and Ben started going down on him, his freckled shoulders down, his round ass high. That’s where Drax started, a big close-up of Ben light brown hole. Dry for now. Several men went into the bathroom to slam. Zion pushed Ben down on his growing pole. Dave and Mac crawled on either side of the bed slinking toward Ben. Mac got to Ben’s hole first and spat and began sucking on it, getting it juicy. Dave bent under Ben and started pinching his titties, slipped a hand and wanked Ben’s expansive meat. “He’s hard, Master Drax. You want to see it?” “Suck it and choke on it. That’ll sell this kid. Don’t be dainty. If you puke you puke,” said Drax. Dave went to town trying to take as much of Ben’s dong as he could. Ben did the same for Zion. Mac was at Ben’s hips, sliding his cock between Ben’s white butt cheeks, ready to bone him. Drax got the camera even with Mac’s cock, and recorded as it slowly penetrate Ben’s receptive ass. Ben let out a cry of distress and wantonness as the big Irish meat slipped in. As soon as Mac was completely buried, he pulled out and in rapidly quickening his pace. He climbed onto Ben’s ass and rode him fiercely. He bent over him, with Drax closing in on Ben’s face. You could see Mac whispering, “You want my disease, bitch? Want me to infect you? Knock you up, fucker?” “Yeah,” Ben got out, alternating between Zion’s and now Dave’s hard tools. “Yeah.” Mac yanked Ben off his knees and flipped him around, spread his legs and pushed back inside. He raped his hole while others sauntered around in the background, telling him to give him his load, encouraged his assault. Ben was spinning out of his mind, open and loving being Mac’s fuck bottom. “I’m cumming, bitch. Take my filthy load,” Mac said, pulling out, yanking his wet red meat, spurting over Ben’s balls and ass cheeks a full eight shots of long strands of white spooge. He took his still milking cock and wipe strings of diseased sperm and pushed it into Ben’s ass. He then penetrated him all the way up to his red pubes, and fucked him for a while longer holding his legs in the air. Dave licked up some of the spooge and fed it to Ben. When Mac was finished with him, he rolled off and Dave was instantly inside Ben’s hole. Mac went up to Ben’s head and demanded to be cleaned off. Ben was milking Zion’s cock, keeping him hard, but made room for both the men in his mouth. He stuffed their cocks in his greedy maw and got a nice moan out of them as their cockheads slithered over each other, Ben’s tongue stimulating them both. Zion, at his peak of excitement, pushed Dave off and climbed straight over Ben’s torso. He pulled Ben in the air spreading his legs, standing fully upright on the bed with Ben dangling below. The other men laughed and cheered as Zion twisted the kid in mid-air and plugged him while he was suspended. It was a spectacular act of precision, appreciated by Drax, but even more by a surprised, ecstatic Ben. Zion fell back on the bed penetrating Ben balls deep. Ben had never had anyone that big in him before and never so suddenly. Drax was there to pick up every yowl and shriek that Zion was so good at producing in pretty white boys. Dave was aggravated at having been shoved off but provided Zion with some ball and shaft licking as he fucked Ben. Dave’s tongue traced Ben’s hole as Zion’s priapic tool plowed away. Seemed like Zion and Dave had done this before. Ben was higher than fuck and enjoying every minute of this. He was starting to come off the initial rush, but his sense of reality was out of whack. As he was getting fucked by the biggest, blackest dick ever, and getting his asshole licked at the same time, he looked over and saw himself on television. Drax had the camcorder hooked up to check lighting and framing, but to Ben it was like he was living in two realities, both mind-blowingly fucked up. He felt Zion pummeling his hole, Dave’s tongue flicking his balls, but he also split off a part of himself, living in the image of himself getting fucked by a big, hot black stud, and teased by a horny gremlin determined to devour his balls. He floated between the live version of himself and the one for posterity, comingling in his brain. He was forced through his senses to live in the moment of each thrust Zion crushed him with, yet he also watched himself on TV—he was the main character, this guy getting gang-fucked by a series of anonymous strangers in a tawdry motel room. The men started blending into each other. Crystal made reality blur. Hours flew by. Two white lights followed every move he made or men made his make. A leg on the side of the bed where a second black guy was pumping in him from behind, a camera under his balls, watching his semi-erect dick hanging out his jock strap, bobbing up and down. A dark haired guy with a goatee, handsome in a hardened way, lay spread eagle on the bed. Ben crawled over him and bounced on the man’s long stiff P.A.'d cock, feeling the metal ramming his guts while he watched himself on TV bouncing on that same hard and handsome guy. The guy sneered up at him euphorically. Fuck, he never felt so good! He was pushed forward by Zion who wanted another piece of him. Still penetrated by the guy on the bed, Zion pushed his immense cockhead in Ben's elastic hole and slid his hard shaft up alongside the hard and handsome guy already inside. Ben had never been double dicked before and couldn’t believe how ripped open he felt, nor how good it was. Pain, pleasure, degradation, satisfaction could all exist together. Who knew? Better yet, with his head to the side he got to watch the spectacle outside himself, how others saw it, on the monitor. He thrust back on the men’s cocks, gratifying his ass as well as appreciating how visually hot it looked. He was in a feedback loop, making himself harder the more intense it looked, which increased the intensity of how it felt, which made him fuck himself even harder on their cocks—chicken and egg. And it wasn’t just him. Hard and handsome got more aroused and so did Zion. Both cocks engorged to their peak of arousal, their girths in overdrive, which only stretched Ben’s hole wider. He slammed into his tops as they ‘bated into him. There was sort of internal quake, a psychic agreement, a chord struck, and all three exploded together. No money shot for Drax—Ben’s hole got flooded and he himself, sandwiched by the two men, shot all over hard and handsome’s hairy chest. No, no money shot, but it paid off even better with the ecstatic chorus of howls produced by three men cumming in unison. Their orgasmic faces were priceless on camera, you didn’t need to see it to believe it, the audible growls and roars palpable to the men in the room, and still Drax got to end the shot intimately crouched between the men’s legs—Ben’s hole leaking out a deluge of cum, running out all over the bed; two sets of balls twitching, draining, with a pool of white semen soaking the sheets. *** It was the strangest sensation, and not altogether unpleasant, like a tickle but more satisfying. A tickle in his groin that blossomed in his belly and spread to the rest of his body. The opposite of a thought, a sensation that led him to a strange memory of the first time someone had rimmed him. Manetti lost to his teammate Enge in an after school practice wrestling match. This was in his senior year of high school, not a good year for him. He’d known Coach since he made the team his sophomore year, and after punching the mat after he lost the match, Coach made him hang back, wanted to help him deal with his anger. His parents were divorcing and he was supposed to pick a parent to stay with for the rest of the semester. Coach was aware of that. Manetti was furious with Enge for beating him, but more with himself for letting Enge get the upper hand. Life sucked generally and now specifically. Coach sat down on the mat next to him, draped his arm over his shoulder. Manetti sat there in the team’s blue unitard trying not to show emotion. Couch was this very attractive middle aged guy, greying at the temples but knew how to take care of himself, who always favored Manetti, whether in Coach’s math class, or on Coach’s wrestling team. “You know what you did wrong, don’t you?” Coach asked him, trying to get him to stop fuming. “I had my arm too far forward and it had all my weight. I was off-balance,” Manetti replied, masking his melancholy with anger. “Enge took advantage.” “No,” said Coach, “you let him get into your head. I saw your face. You were mad at him and you let emotion take over. You were all defensive. You can never get the upper hand if that’s all you are. That’s what beat you. It wasn’t Enge.” Manetti sat there, downcast, staring at the wrestling mat. “But I get it, Mike. I would be all defensive too. You have to go the lawyers tomorrow, don't you? Make a decision?” Manetti nodded his head. Coach pulled up his chin and brushed some of his wild chestnut hair out of his eyes. The unitard had always been a very vulnerable and unforgiving uniform. Your cock’s outline was always apparent. Because he had such a big one, everyone was always aware of it. But now, especially, feeling miserable and being comforted by a man he’d always admired, who always had taken him under his protective wing, now literally, raised his chin and made him look him in the eye. He couldn’t help but his truest feelings were beginning to show. He felt his crotch stirring. “You’re eighteen. Only a few more month and you’ll be off to NYU, so whatever you decide is temporary. Both your folks love you. That will never change.” Coach was warm, smelled good, but it was becoming obvious that Manetti was getting a hardon. Coach was slightly embarrassed, “Why don’t you hit the showers, champ. Come to my office and we’ll talk afterwards, if you want.” Manetti tried to crouch and slink off, to try and not emphasize how big of a boner he had. That was the first time that ever happened, but he’d never been held so intimately by a man before. He slipped off his uniform and hung it in his locker. In the shower his dick was still at half-mast but he didn’t care, he was alone. He put his head under the warm water and just let it run over him. He heard the locker room door lock, and saw Coach now as naked as he was, a figure as sculpted as Zeus, coming through the shower’s steam sporting a man-sized hardon. He’d masturbated late at night, fantasizing something like this might happen. Coach wore a wedding band, but apparently that didn’t matter. The man bent down on his knees and put Manetti’s stiffening cock in his mouth. It was the most incredible feeling he’d ever had. Water was running over his shoulders and splashing over Coach’s head. He shut off the shower and held Coach’s head while it bobbed up and down over his large appendage. He was going to shoot any second and he wanted to make the moment last longer than five seconds. He dropped to his knees and kissed Coach. He’d never before kissed a man on the mouth. His shaved face grazed Coaches face. He pulled back astonished at the sensation. Something he wanted to do for years, and now felt he had permission. Coach pulled his face back to his. Their kiss was passionate, earnest, sincere. Innocent as much as it was taboo. A onetime only encounter the Coach said after that day. Never to be allowed again, but remembered always. And right in the middle of the shower room, Coach did something unexpected. He brought Manetti down on the warm, wet tiles, laid him on his back, and lifted his muscular hairy legs apart. He spread Manetti open and drove his tongue straight into his butthole. Manetti was stunned he’d do that to his hairy hole, stick his tongue in there and start licking around, swirling it in circles, licking like a dog would, spreading his butt hair outward, always coming back to his center, tickling that sweet spot, a place he’d never imagine someone, especially this man who he’d looked up to for years, would ever want to put his mouth there. How delicious, sublime, dirty and obscene it felt. Something was now feeling as good as that first rim job he’d gotten by his wresting coach ten years ago. He opened his eyes and awoke in the recovery suite, his gown pulled up to his chin and the doctor was licking him between his legs. But it wasn’t a blow job he was getting. His dick was missing. He was shaved and flat down there. His hairy legs were secured to the end of the bed, spread apart, and both arms had plastic ties anchoring him to the guardrails. “What the fuck?!” he yelled. He got a good look and saw where his massive meat used to be was a slit, a cunt, pussy lips still wet from where the doctor’s mouth had been. He shrieked, “What the fuck did you fuckin’ do to me?!” Manetti rocked furiously against the bed, thrusting up his hips knocking the doctor away. He thundered out a banshee’s wail that reverberated far beyond the room, screeches of terror and fury echoing in the garden, flying to the sky. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you!” he roared, his face contorting demonically. “I’ll fuckin’ tear you apart!” He rocked the heavy hospital bed until it came close to toppling. The doctor shouted over his frenzy, “Do you want to be sedated again?” Manetti didn’t let up. He convulsed up and down, saying how he wanted to rip him apart, while trying to break free of his bindings. The ties around his arm showed red marks, bulging skin. The doctor persisted evenly, “Do you want me to knock you out for another four days? Is that what you want?” Manetti suddenly stopped. He looked down at his missing member. In a rasping voice, he said, “I’ll fucking rip your lungs out. What the fuck have done to me?” “If you calm down, I’ll tell you.” Manetti looked at him with fury in his eyes, eyes that bulged, eyes that flamed red. “I’ve given you a simple sex reassignment. Your organ was merely inverted. I just tested you and you responded as so many others have. It is pleasurable you’ll find. You’ll derive as much pleasure as you had before. More actually. You’ll be pleasantly surprised, I predict.” “Let me tell you what I predict, motherfucker.” Manetti began slowly, vehemently, each word committed to the violence he intended to pursue. “I predict, at some point, you’re going to have to let me go. And then. I will. Raze you. To the ground!” Again he erupted with even greater rage. The wheels of the bed rocked about to tip over. The doctor smiled his joyless smile, eyes that were dead of human empathy. “Then we simply must not let you go,” he stated, taking up a hypodermic needle and sticking it into the IV drip’s tube. Manetti fought with all his will to cling to his rage, but the drug injected was sapping him of strength, quickly making him compliant. He was calmly breathing, though with madness lingering in his eyes, but he was trapped inside a mutilated body that couldn’t fight. The doctor observed his quelling state, and once again approached him. He bought with him a camera and, with a clack over his crotch, recorded his handiwork. He set the camera aside, wet his middle finger, then cupped his hand over Manetti’s shaved cunt, slithering his middle finger up inside. There was not a thing Manetti could do about it. The fight had deserted him leaving the shell of his body behind. The doctor bent over and once again buried his mouth over his delicate vulva, fluttering its lips apart with his tongue. Manetti drifted off, his mind twirling down a rabbit hole. He fell onto his back on the white, wet tiles of the locker room ten years before, and Coach was between his legs, ravishing his beautiful, virginal mangina.

Everybody has a chubby bear fetish. I'd have really vivid day dreams of sucking a chubby's cock and dreams of being topped by a silverdaddy while leaning on me for days until my first NSA encounter with a top. Who happened to be a chubby trucker bear lol. I also like musclebear tops. Bears are the best fucks. I feel bad for those who chase but have no luck.

1:30 a.m. As they made their way to Crusher’s cabana, the garden was even busier than before. Chris was amazed by the cornucopia of men, their sizes, shapes, their varied form. He also saw that the entire grounds was dancing with yellow and green lightning bugs. They stood out against the dark forest, blinked and buzzed in the night air, appeared and disappeared like phantom particles of light. The men were in various stages of copulating. Pairs were making noisy use of the metal slings. A group of three men they passed—wait, these were the first guests to arrive, the bulky Latin, the distinguished Creole, and the large bear—were all pissing on a very happy host. Tobias was wallowing in a sand bed rubbing himself in their salty piss. It reminded Manetti that he needed to pee. Chris exchanged a smile with Tobias when Manetti smacked his leg. "Leg up on the chair." Chris did as he was told and Manetti, pushed his large flaccid cock up Chris' open hole. "Stay still," Manetti said. Chris felt a warmth flow into his body. His colon, having been expanded all day and night, was accepting quite a lot. Manetti really did have to pee like a race horse, and was inside Chris for a long time. Chris felt his chem piss working immediately, most likely because of the volume and its potent concentration. As he ended, Manetti squirted three final times and pulled out. "Keep it in," Manetti simply said and they continued their journey. Chris lost track of where they were going or why, only how pretty the dancing lights were and how happy Tobias looked gulping down three hot men’s urine. Manetti didn’t bother knocking on the cabana door but went right in, Chris following. Crusher had just done a line of coke and waved his hand over four remaining lines he’d laid out for them. Chris went first and while he wiped his nose told Crusher about all the fireflies in the garden. Crusher was pacing. He was in quite a state of agitation. He’d been doing blow for some time obviously. “Well, first of all, technically, they should be called ‘fire-beetles.” Crusher’s backlog of knowledge had hit a watershed moment. Though he held an M.S. and B.S. in Athletic Training with certifications from the National Strength and Conditioning Association and American College of Sports Medicine, he had a passionate hobby that occupied all his free time: bugs. His walls were framed with them. Mounted on pins, displayed all over his Soho loft. All their metallic colors, sizes that ranged from tiny to frighteningly big. The study of insects, entomology, was an undergraduate requirement, but that interest had stuck with him through the years. You’d think his home would be filled with Muscle & Fitness or Iron Man magazines, but you’d be wrong. Instead there were neat OCD stacks on the coffee table of American Entomologist and Entomologist’s Monthly. “Fireflies, lighting bugs—they’re interchangeable—are part of the Lampryridae family of insects in the beetle order Coleoptera,” he pronounced, pinching his nostrils, waiting for Manetti to do his line so they could get started. But he was on a roll and couldn’t stop if he wanted to: “The green and yellow light they produce—which lacks both infrared and ultraviolet frequencies, wavelength that range from 510 to 670 nanometers, that is, green and yellow—is in their butts, a chemical call luciferin. Yes, Manetti, from the Latin ‘Lucifer’ in case you’re wonder.” “I’m not,” said Manetti, squeezing his nostrils. Crusher went up to Chris and admired his dog collar. “How was Implant Andy?” Crusher asked them. Manetti asked how he knew the young man had implants. “Duh, man. Just look at the twink’s neck. Never lifted a weight in his life.” “Sweet piece of tail though,” Manetti volunteered. ‘Scooter, here, helped me tag him when Brunswick wasn’t looking.” Manetti patted Chris cheek. Chris was happy, had dropped his towel and started pulling unconsciously on his cock. “Anyway, when the luciferin combines with oxygen, calcium and adenosine, it produces their bioluminescence.” “Shut the fuck up, man,” complained Manetti. He’d heard Crusher go off on these coke jags before. “Wow,” Chris said. “I thought they just were just wiggling their butts, like I seen in cartoons.” He found the idea funny, wiggled his own butt in illustration, and giggled. Crusher paced to the bathroom and ran the faucet. He wet his fingers and sniffed some drops into his nose, snorting deep. “Wiggling their butts is exactly what they’re doing. They have two weeks in summer to attract a mate and lay eggs before they croak.” He brought from the bathroom two c-notes and gave them to Manetti. “This Towel Party is just another ritual like theirs, everyone wiggling their butts, only we only got one night. So, get over here, Scooter, and start wiggling your butt. One hundred to fuck him, two for a fist. What about if I want him to eat my shit?" It was hard for Crusher to stand in one place. He went to the window and opened the drapes, then decided against that, and closed them again. "No scat. No animals," Manetti stated, all business. "What about if I want to eat his shit?" "On the house." Crusher placed a rim chair next to the bed. "Okay, kid. Take a seat." Chris sat on the rim chair and stroked his dick, while Crusher squirmed under him and started twirling his tongue around the boy's hole. Manetti again raised his finger at the kid and he stopped playing with himself. "Ah, dude, you're a sloppy mess. That Brunswick's cum around your hole or Manetti's?" Chris’ eyes were spinning, feeling Crusher playing with his hole like he was, so Manetti answered for him it was Brunswick’s. Crusher tongued a variety of flavors, piss, lube, cum, digging his tip between Chris' ass lips. Chris' involuntarily relaxed his hole from the erotic twirling Crusher’s tongue was providing. A flush of Manetti's piss suddenly spurted into Crusher's open mouth. He gulped down as much as he could, the remaining simply flooded the bamboo floor. "Well, pig, I hope you enjoy fresh chem piss," Manetti said. “Free of charge.” "Okay, off," Crusher said, nudging Chris off the rim seat. "On the bed. Let's see how much of Uncle Crusher you can take." "Yes, Sir," Chris replied. Manetti had already positioned himself at the headboard and motioned Chris to lie between his legs. He had a row of poppers lined up next to him. Chris put his towel under his ass and laid back in Manetti's lap lifting up his legs. Manetti grabbed his ankles, exposed his hole, and kept his leg suspended. "Manetti, lemme see your arm." Manetti held one his out. Crusher compared the length of his arm to Manetti's. "How far up the kid's ass have you gone?" he asked. Manetti pointed to the crook of his arm, which corresponded to the start of Crusher's bulging bicep. "Let's see if I can take him to long head. Think I can stretch your pussy that far, boy?" Crusher asked, pointing a good two inches beyond his elbow. "Dunno. I hope so, Sir." He wiggled his butt excitedly. Manetti held out an open popper bottle and he took in several hits. "Oh, baby, look at this sloppy pussy," Crusher said, sending a greased hand into Chris hole up to his knuckles. "Somebody's been a busy little cunt. Look at your hole. So tight." He began trading hands without going in but pressing them harder each time. Chris pushed against his alternating hands, wanting one of them inside him. "Whoa! Look at the hungry cunt, sucked me right in. Good pussy. Gotta be a record." Chris looked up at Manetti, who tweaked his nipples. That made him hornier so he spread his legs wider for Crusher to pull out and push in another hand. So far Crusher was using open hands, not a fist. Chris was receptive, pushing a bit to get over Crushers big knuckles and accepting the girth of his wrists. Crusher was a twister and, once inside Chris' hole, like to give a half twirl stimulating the colon walls, preparing Chris to take some major forceful punches. Crusher's technique didn't hurt as much as cause an overload of stimulation every time he entered and spun his hand, every knuckle gliding roughly around Chris rectum. Manetti made him take another hit so Crusher could advance further into him. Poppers made his want abuse, which, as he got used to it, turned to desire, wanting Crusher to push in deeper no matter if it hurt. Crusher quickly got to a place where Chris’ colon was locking up, forcing him to turn to a slower continuous approach. Crusher himself let Manetti give him a hit of poppers and got into Chris' headspace, eyeing him closely for signals he could penetrate his hole more deeply. It was a silent affair, visible only by seeing tendons move on Crusher's forearms that connected to fingers, testing, twisting, prodding, retreating, advancing, finding an advantage and moving the whole hand at once, like an army conquering, disarming, taking over an inch more of new turf. An inch is mile in a body, a chamber that is conquered is slid into, a hand suddenly making itself at home. A conquered territory gives up any previous rights and accommodates the intruder: twenty-seven bones of the hand cram into a tight new space. The longer it remains the more at home it feels in the conquered chamber, both to the hand and chamber itself. The connection is as astonishing as a conquered people learning the habits of an invading army. A common language is born, a mutual cooperation. The desire for stretching, for working out cramps, for sensual explorations, what happens when I do this? An infinitesimally small movement shoots out tectonic disruptions within the body. Or nothing is disturbed, and the hand feels free to continue its journey. Crusher's hand played inside Chris like a maestro plays every instrument on stage. He'd obvious had a lot of practice, but because of the enormity of his musculature not many could take him in very far. That's why he was fascinated by how much of Chris he was able to take in such a short about of time. After the initial warm up of punching his ass then changing over to easy pistoning, Crusher laid on the bed at a right angle to Chris’ opened butt and proceeded to steadily climb inside him. Inch by inch he was soon up to his elbow, with Chris squirming and surrendering in delight. Even though Crusher wasn't yet as deep as Manetti had been, Crusher was stretching him out width-wise much farther than Manetti had. Crusher occasionally pulled out, and using his second hand, a finger, two fingers, three, eventually four, to supply an additional stretch that Chris not only enjoyed, but after a hit of poppers, participated in actively. With a determined, lasciviously expression on his face, he impaled himself on the proffered forearm and digits. Once stretched he could accommodate the incredible girth of Crusher's herculean forearm and concentrate solely on breathing into and loosening the next chamber, release any obstacle for the hand’s journey to continue. In this way, the pair, or if you considered Manetti as part of the package—tweaking Chris' nipple, holding his legs occasionally, urging him to lose himself with another hit of poppers, generally playing coach on the sidelines—this triumvirate collectively took Chris past Crushers elbow in just under an hour. As soon as Crusher passed his elbow through Chris hole, Crusher let out a whistle. "Thar she goes," he said. Chris who had been huffing and puffing through the last few centimeters, threw his head back in Manetti lap. A milestone achieved. Manetti rewarded the boy by releasing a long drool of spit that ran from his lips to the boy’s open mouth. “Who's a hole whore now?” Manetti asked. “I am, Sir,” Chris replied, with a face that alternated between anguish and joy. Manetti pinched his nips hard, a sort of congratulations. This had, however, a domino effect and made Chris squeeze his ass lips tightly around Crusher's arm. The upper arm, the humerus, before all the muscles and tendons are attached, is slightly thinner than the bones at the elbow. Manetti pinching, and in turn Chris squeezing Crusher’s arm, clamped down on this narrower area before the bicep begins, and the aforementioned long head of the bicep along with a lot more Crusher, two inches to be exact, went into Chris in a very short amount of time. An inch of Crusher's mass was a lot for Chris to take in two seconds, two inches was overwhelming, and everyone instantly felt an on-coming crisis in the making. Even coach Manetti on the sidelines looked worried. Everyone froze to see if this would be an anatomic emergency. In fact—huzzah!—the opposite was true. It opened up in Chris the new world of realizing he was far Past the Elbow! Actually, quite a bit more. With Manetti holding Chris head in suspended alarm, stroking his face in case he had to talk the boy out of panicking, Chris relished both the relief of being stretched less than a moment ago, combined with the depth of Crusher now stuffed deep and expanding further inside his colon. There was the added tender concern he saw in Manetti face. In gratitude that Manetti was watching out for him, he turned his head and started licking Manetti dark skinned cock. Happiness reined in Pleasure Island, as Chris imagined himself Pinocchio being led astray by a beautiful fox and a clever cat. Pleasure Island is where he wanted to stay with the two of them. The final seduction came when Crusher flexed his enormous bicep. Ripples of euphoria spread through Chris’ body. A new intimacy was uncovered between Crusher and Chris, hidden from Manetti. Crusher communicated through his bicep stretching Chris in the most intimate of ways. Chris communicated back by clamping down on Crusher's bicep. They both looked at each other in amazement. They exchanged communiques, a Morse code, if that's what you want to call it, telegraphed between them again and again. In communicating this way, a secondary manifestation occurred: the expansion and relaxation of Chris' hole additionally allowed Crusher to fist him deeper. Crusher saw what Chris was gearing up to do. He said one word to him: "Careful." Chris considered this only for a second before deciding to take the risk. He pushed himself away from Manetti, physically pushed against Manetti’s body, and bared down onto Crusher's entire arm. For his part, Crusher relaxed his bicep and triceps, as much as he could, and allowed Chris, who was beyond reasoning with at this point, to swallow his arm all the way to his pit. The final moment came when Chris felt the slight tickle sensation of Crusher’s bushy armpit hair brushing his hairless hole. The two of them laid there completely relaxed, somewhat exhausted, careful not to move. But Crusher was Crusher, and he ever so slightly made a muscle inside Chris. Chris gasped in astonishment. Manetti looked at him confused since there seemed to be no movement on the surface once he had taken in Crusher’s arm, but the tectonic plates inside Chris' body was enough to cause an earthquake. He tried to keep his body from shaking since he knew he was in an extremely vulnerable position. Crusher pumped his arm again. It was obscenely pleasurable, like his bowels were speaking, that the greatest shit of his life was about to occur. And, in truth, it was about to occur. With nowhere to go, Crusher started to evacuate from Chris’ body, and with it Chris’ entrails were dragged along Crusher’s arm with him. And as he had tortured Manetti earlier, Crusher continually crept back in an inch for every two given up. This lasted a long and confusing time. Chris lost track of where Crusher was in his body, couldn't tell if he was coming in or going out. Every time he realized less of Crusher's arm was in him he too had to fight against not fully impaling himself back onto Crusher's entire arm, all the way back up to the armpit. Another quarter hour flew by, then another, but Manetti wasn't looking at the time any more. You couldn't put a price tag on how far the boy had advanced or how hard it made him to see this muscleman buried in this skinny blond boy. When Crusher finally release Chris, Chris saw his arm was covered in butt slime. Bits of yellow, brown and pink spotted his arm. Chris laid there extinguish once Crusher released him, but Manetti immediately admonished him, saying, "Always thank your Top, boy." Chris slowly sat sideways on his legs unsteadily, propped up on his arm. Still he got close enough to Crusher to reach up and give him a deep and appreciative kiss. Crusher reciprocated holding his arm high in the air, covered as it was with the biological graffiti he'd pulled out of Chris’s body. Manetti grabbed the back of his neck, reprimanding him, "Not like that, fist pig." He pushed the kid’s face into the bodybuilder's raised arm. Chris made his way to his knees, placed his hand behind he back, and began licking Crusher's arm. Crusher twisted it one way then the other so Chris could find all the bit and pieces of himself traced along Crusher's indomitable arm. Satisfied, Crusher's sprinkled the remains of white powder on this dresser top and cut it into six lines. Each of them inhaled two, then Manetti and Chris went to find the final tricks of the night. *** 4 a.m. Abashed the devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely—saw, and pined His loss Ben Prior stood with six other men stroking his cock watching the tableaux on the black lacquered table. The other men along the bamboo wall recognized Big Ben, if by nothing else the multiple adornments of his cock, and were probably as aroused by his presence as by the dining room table’s tableaux. Tall, still handsome even with his shaved tattooed head, bushy chestnut beard, and his back’s terrain of welts that had become his signature. The welts from lashes he’d taken over the last few years were now permanent scars. A back as rough as a topographic map of the Alps. His scarification, brandings, and other body modification were a far cry from when he first blew onto the sex industry scene ten years ago: the cocky, brash, beautiful long-haired surfer boy, slim, sleek as a gazelle, gorgeous—the envied hunk next door. Over the years his taste in S&M grew to the exclusivity of whipping, giving and receiving, a niche of an already niche market. It was a shame the industry lost such a golden boy, unless your tastes were aligned. Riding crops, bullwhips, floggers, paddles, canes, cat o’ nine tails—he wielded them all with mastery, and knew with great familiarity both ends of the lash. In dungeons, palaces, monasteries, seedy motel rooms, basically anywhere in the world that partook in ceremonies where these instruments were employed, he was a well-known practitioner. Men paid dearly, and not just in coin, to abuse or be abused by him. How does it go? Some of them want to abuse you, some of them want to be abused by you. Indeed. Saudi princes, South American cartel chiefs, Fascists in exile, Monsignors banished to cloisters of low esteem—there were legions of men who were drawn to the persona Ben had burnished, first in Drax’s films but then by means of independent entrepreneurship. No mere Wall Street titan, Washington insider, or European monarch stood up to Big Ben and his whip. They bowed and scraped for his lash, or, when he felt a need to indulge a masochistic whim and the price was right, purchased his hide for a night, a week, a fortnight, or a month. A middle-aged club owner with slicked-back hair and mob ties presently employed him at his beach house in The Pines. A towel had been left at the club owner’s door the night before. Foregoing attending since he was a mass of bruises, scars from flogging, a broken lip, sporting two black eyes, and had been up for the past four days on meth, he’d given the towel, mask and address to Ben as a gratuity for the excellent work he performed over the last two weeks. Ben had also been up for the past ninety-six hours, but he’d endured far longer sessions and wasn’t the one needing to heal. The tableaux on the table wasn’t unique save the boy wearing a popper gas mask covering his head at the center of it all. He looked awfully young, maybe not even legal. Ben knew Tobias wouldn’t invite a minor, but hell, the kid looked like they could all get arrested for just being in the same room as the kid. Small, extremely skinny, hairless, the boy was being fucked by the wrestling world’s Santiago “The Skull” Gutierrez, a handsome man with rippling muscles, high cheekbones, almond eyes, smooth copper skin, a single tattoo draped across his chest that read I am what I am, and a big, black uncut dick that he was putting to good use. The kid was taking it like a pro, his legs spread wide for The Skull to pummel. The boy was simultaneously satisfying two others: the sculptor Baptiste Germain, whom Ben had partied with several times at the baths, a stately sixty-year-old Creole with long grey dreadlocks; and a big bear that had to weigh over two-fifty, maybe even three, who looked as if his could snap the kid’s arm like a twig. Both men were riding the boy’s forearm practically down to the table. Santiago’s gyrations were getting quicker. It was apparent he was about to nut. His pelvis thrusts became harder, pulling the boy’s hips to him faster. All at once he heaved forward, his neck arched back as he shot into the boy. He held the position for a pure moment of enjoyment, then performed a series of thrusts accompanied by embellished roars of might while he pounded his chest in an over-the-top theatrical ring-worthy performance. He unceremoniously pulled out of the kid, flung residual cum and butt juice at the boy with his dick, and walked out of the limelight. The sculptor and the bear climbed off as well and the kid flipped around on his knees, ass high, taking off his popper mask, awaiting the next comer. Ben felt the assembled men wordlessly acquiesced to him. For a moment he contemplated the small bubble butt, then noticed a mounted katana blade on a side table. He took it out of its sheath, feeling its cold, silver blade and smacked the kid’s ass with it hard. The kid didn’t move or make a sound, even though the blade left a bright red outline across his cheeks. Ben was impressed. Not many men he dealt with would have been able to keep quiet. He raised the blade higher and with a whoosh that cut through the air, the blade landed again on the kid’s ass with a tremendous crack that even Manetti heard far off in his cabana while dicking Andy. Still the kid remained still, his ass defiantly in the air. The red mark left from the previous lash was joined by a crimson bruise that made a red X on his butt. He order the kid to count to ten. The boy obeyed, and with each count he received an additional wallop on his ass. He made no protest, no extraneous whimper, simply took what was coming to him. After the ten lashes Ben sheathed the blade and set it on its mount, and approached the boy ass. He rubbed his hand appreciative over the velvety smooth cheeks, feeling the heat of the crimson bruises. He knew passing his hand over the fresh bruises stung, and yet the boy remained stoic. Only his little brother Chris could rival the silence of this kid during a beating like he had given him. He felt the boy’s asshole and pushed two fingers into it. The boy was extremely open and tempting. Ben pushed in three fingers, then quickly followed up with a fourth. The hole was drawing him in, there was no doubt. He pulled his hand out and made a fist between the kid’s cheeks. He pressed and with very little effort pushed his giant knuckled mitt inside. The kid grunted but otherwise accepted him without fanfare. He was curious about how much this boy could take. He pulled out and punched in with his other fist. He hadn’t applied lube but the kid was slick from a night of men fucking and fisting him, he didn’t need to. He crouched in a boxer’s pose, bracing himself before the sloppy gape, and pounded the hole relentlessly. The boy registered only occasional fucks and moans, farting out extraneous air along with copious fluids. Ben slowed down and exchange rapid punching with alternating deep arm fisting. The kid could not only take it, but purred deep groans of pleasure. He pulled up along his side, and wrapped an arm around the boy’s torso. With his other arm, he pistoned his forearm from shallow to deep, a depth nearly to his elbow. The kid continued burbling obscenities, begging Ben to wreck his hole. This was the youngest pig he’d ever met and it induced a long-dormant excitement. He was surprised to see he was growing his first “Big Ben” boner in over a year. This boy’s ass wasn’t going to waste. The men who hung back in the gloom started yanking faster as Ben turned the boy over and spread his legs. Chris looked up at the bearded bald guy who was about to fuck him. There was a spider web inked onto his skull, both arms were sleeves of dark ink that had fishes like in the coy pond, swimming in blue swirls of water from his wrists to his shoulders. And what shoulders! Crusher was the most muscular man he’d met but, maybe because of his height, this guy looked bigger. Lats rose from his back like insect wings, his neck had muscles that went from ears straight to shoulders, and the only thing more veiny than his mountainous arms were the veins that stood out on his cock. And what a cock. He was awestruck by he beast that was about to enter and destroyed his hole. Rings and rods sprouted in all directions. The man slammed inside of him without warning. A ripple of metal bars spaced evenly under the man’s shaft stuttered sensations he’d never before felt. Any one of them would have cause him to jump, but in rapid succession he became overwhelmed, stopped processing thought and became only aware of the sensations deep within his hole. The last thought he clung to before the onslaught of anal annihilation was where had he seen the shoulder and rib dragon tattoo before? (It was that bit of meat stuck in your tooth that your tongue keeps poking at.) Ben enjoyed watching the twink struggle with all the new feelings he was triggering in his hole. Like a xylophone, the six barbells of the Jacob’s Ladder along his shaft was playing the back of his colon and lower lip of his sphincter. The apadravya going from the top of his head to the bottom of his piss slit was driving the bottom and top of the kid’s hole wild, especially when the upward curve of his cock pushed the top metal bead against the kid’s prostate. He knew jabbing the kid forcefully scraped his prostate mercilessly. He could see the confusion and the titillation it was causing through the boy’s mask. (It was that scratch in the middle of your back that, over your shoulder or under your wing, you can’t get to.) The five dydoe piercing over the top ridge of Ben’s cock making up his king’s crown, raked across the top walls of the boy’s hole, so with each thrust by an already monstrously large cock mauling his hole, there was an extra eighth-inch of metal jewelry that added sensations from tingling to clawing in an already over-stimulated anus. Ben watched the boy’s struggling to make sense of what he was feeling, driving out thought leaving only fleeting gasps of consciousness. (It was that apprehension of greeting someone you know but whose name eludes you because the context is all wrong.) “Oh,” Chris said. Somewhere back inside his lizard brain, the dragon tattoo appeared in that photo with Manetti. On the refrigerator. Barely able to speak, over-wrought with carnal feelings off the charts, his motor functions quite in tatters, the realization was about to make him cum. He fumbled with his mask, fumbled with words, cumming as he spoke even without touching himself. “Ben,” he stated. Men along the bamboo wall shot over both of them. Time slowed down. Rain of semen, drop by drop, hit Chris and Ben. Ben looked down, and not having ejaculated in over a year, not having slept in ninety-six hours, was certain he was hallucinating. He was fucking his baby brother. The thought itself made him spew relentlessly without pause. He couldn’t stop fucking the hole he was in or break out of the feedback loop of how this couldn’t be his little brother, not here, not at a Fire Island orgy. But the squealing inside the feedback loop pieced together why the kid could take the beating he did, the same beatings he took regularly from Chris’ biological father, how thin and small he knew his brother to be, and in that feedback loop how good his hole felt. He couldn’t stop fucking while the screeching of the feedback continued, while the world made no sense. How had he gotten here? How could his hole have gotten so loose that he could punch and piston him so effortlessly? He pumped the remains of his orgasm as he removed his mask. Though Chris recognized immediately that it was Ben, at the same time, struggled with the thought that though he knew with complete certainty who he was, he couldn’t see an iota of his brother in the steroid, scarred body before him. Random pieces of Ben’s face started to come to him: the eyes, the brow, the lips, even the size of his cock. His cock. Slowly Ben pulled out of Chris, each millimeter causing a thrill mixed with madness. When Ben finally was out, the man who had real Lords and drug lords scrape before him, the man who princes and scum bags bowed before, the man who clerics begged, and middle-aged congressmen weep, fled himself in abject terror, hiding his face, stumbling for the garden gate, pining for a line he couldn’t uncross. Ever. Chris felt his hole ooze Ben’s ejaculate. With a finger he tasted it. Then tasted some more. *** Brunch Early morning fog had burned away, but left the island overcast and humid. The compound’s residence were stirring. Brunswick and Andy had caught an early seaplane back to La Guardia, to enjoy a day in the city, and then back to Los Angeles. Crusher was showering. Manetti was trying to rouse Chris with not much luck. There was a knock at the gate, and two men entered the garden with a large tan Great Dane. “Yoo-hoo,” the older of the two men said. He was in his late sixties, wearing an ill-fitting black toupee and a yellow ascot. He scanned around the compound looking for Tobias or Mitchel. “Are you decent?” “Never!” Tobias exclaimed, coming out of the main house to greet them in grey khakis and a red hibiscus Hawaiian shirt. “Boris, you old she-devil, you never age.” Boris, the man in the ascot, waved him away. The two men kissed each other on the cheek. “If you flatter him this early, his ego is never going to fit back on the boat,” said the other man, Roger, holding back the big dog. He was in his early sixties, had thin white hair grown long in back and a prominent receding hairline. Except for the flair of the yellow ascot, a jaunty accessory to celebrate the beginning of their week on the island—most likely, as a couple, their last—both men wore black. Matching black short-sleeved shirts with black cuffed Bermuda shorts. Afraid of the dog, Tobias air-kissed Roger. Mitchel came out in an untied blue terrycloth bathrobe over a lime green bathing suit, looking worn out from the night before. “Ladies, so nice to see you. Hello Wallace.” The dog wagged its tail. “Coffee’s ready. Indoors or out?” Roger brushed the air. “Indoors. Too many bugs out here,” he said leading the way with Wallace ahead of him. Tobias and Mitchel exchanged glances, then forced smiles. While the four men settled in the living room drinking their coffee, Manetti came out naked and threw himself in the pool. The events of the party were cobwebs in his brain. He’d been hard all night on Chris, but in spite of the discipline he imposed and some of the torments he put the kid through, he thought the kid had enjoyed all the attention he’d received. He also thought, if the kid every got up, he’d have a changed boy on his hands. He certainly was worshipped and adored by the men, reported Santiago Gutierrez, especially by the exalted embrace Ben showered on him, whose sudden appearance, rhapsodic climax, and then abrupt departure capped the evening for everyone. When Santiago delivered Chris finally back to Manetti around daybreak, Chris was incoherent and literally speaking in tongues. The four men drinking coffee and chit-chatting in the living room observed Manetti pushing himself off the pools gray slates, and strutting over, with his hefty meat swaying, to a stack of towels. “Surely, you’re familiar with Master Drax Productions?” Tobias asked his guests. They nodded with surely smiles. “Then you must know our adult entertainer friend, Mike Manetti?” he ventured to his guests, as Manetti, mostly dry, slid open the screen door and entered shaking his wet mane. Wallace the dog barked. Manetti eyed him with suspicion. Tobias couldn’t be more pleased to intimate his friendship with such a studly presence in his home. “Oh, don’t worry,” Roger said, admiring the broad mat of curly black hair. “He’s tougher than he looks.” “Just like Manetti,” quipped Mitchel. The men laughed as Manetti raise one of his dark eyebrows. “There’s coffee?” he asked, reminding himself to smile at the house guests. “Help yourself, in the kitchen,” Tobias said. He began filling the morticians in on what Manetti had told him Mister Drax was proposing regarding a boat purchase. He embellished the pirate and sailor story, adding some lurid details from his imagination. Mitchel nudged him halfway through a very detailed gangbang scene, to get back to the proposal. Just then they heard a splash in the pool, and saw Chris blond head bobbing up and down in the water. Boris was in an outright trance gazing after the boy. Roger looked at him nervously. Mitchel got up nonchalantly, excused himself, saying all the coffee mugs he’d forgotten to tell Mike were still in the dishwasher. He entered the kitchen with Manetti looking in several cabinets. Mitchel opened the steaming dishwasher and took out a mug and handed it to Manetti. While Manetti was pouring, he said, “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Manetti looked at him blankly. “This story of Chris’ last night. Some crooks. A dirty cop. This was a story on the local news yesterday. Some family was killed in Queens along with two escaped convicts. Is this part of that?” “No,” Manetti insisted. “The kid was high and trying to impress Brunswick with a far-fetched story.” “Tobias would believe that,” Mitchel said, handing Manetti a carton of milk out of the refrigerator. Manetti pour some in his coffee and gave it back. “Tobias would, I don’t. You don’t teach law for twenty years and don’t immediately see links in stories, far-fetched or otherwise. And I know you. I’ve known your family since you were a little kid. I was the first man you came out to. Don’t you know how much I’ve hated seeing you associate with someone like Drax? And this story the boys jabbers on about, I’m afraid for you, Michael.” “Don’t be. Everything’s on the up and up. Drax sent me out with cash, being he’s more comfortable without a paper trail, the IRS and everything.” “See, sweetie, this is where the hair on my arm stands up.” Theirs was a very complicated history. Tobias, to Manetti, was a client, a client he liked, but Mitchel was someone that went way back, someone he respected and trusted. Someone, time and again, whose advice he refused to heed, and whose eyes he always found it hard to meet. But that morning in the kitchen, he forced himself to, putting on his most captivating smile. “Don’t worry, Uncle Mitch. I got this all worked out. Believe me.” He put a hand on Mitchel’s shoulder and pulled him in. Hugged him and kissed his cheek. Manetti returned with his coffee and took up residence in an Eames lounge chair next to a display case of Japanese objects d’art, his towel wrapped around his washboard waist. Roger gave him a hungry look, which Manetti returned with a crocodile smile. Mitchel followed back from the kitchen and sat next to Tobias on their black leather couch. “So,” Mitchel said brightly. “Master Drax Productions is looking for a property for a sea-faring adventure and we thought of you.” “Sweetie, we’re passed that,” Tobias scolded. “We’re talking price now. Two hundred thousand, our guests have offered.” Manetti sipped his coffee, then while watching Roger, ran his tongue over his full bottom lip. “I can give you one fifty today, cash, if you give me title and bill of sale and the keys.” Boris scoffed. “Cash? You carry that much with you?” Just then Chris opened the screen door with his towel wrapped around him. The water had woken him up, but he still seemed dazed and looked at the two men dressed in black in a fog but also with a bit of suspicion. “The production company prefers cash transactions. I won’t go into detail but records, paper trails, sometimes get in the way.” Chris came and sat on the ottoman in front of Manetti. “Boy, where do you belong and why are you hiding in that towel?” Chris rose from his seat, folded his towel and sat on it cross-legged naked. Boris’ eyes almost fell out of his head. He had to shift so that his stirring cock wouldn’t tent in his shorts. “It sound shady, this no paper trail,” he said uncomfortably. “Well,” Manetti said. “Take Chris driver’s license. Sure it says he’s eighteen. It would have to if he were to be in an adult film, wouldn’t it?” Chris turned around and looked at Manetti confused. Manetti raised his brows, and Chris turned back around taking his cue. Boris and Roger examine the skinny, hairless boy. They could only imagine how old he really was. “One eighty,” offered Boris, staring as the boy as Chris touched himself for his benefit. “Sixty,” Manetti countered, leaning forward as his towel parted, displaying his round hairy balls cushioning his famously monstrous thick cock. “And we’ll throw in a free fuck for both of you—both me and the kid. Deal?” “Deal!” cried Boris and Roger simultaneously. The screen door opened and Master Drax entered, followed by his servant Jamal who clasped a large case. “Deal?” he asked scanning the faces in the room. He smiled at the boy who, while he played with himself, sat on the floor with a full erection. “Hello, Christian. What a pleasure to see you.” He inspected Manetti’s stoic face. “What sort of deal would that be?” He then shut the heavy sliding glass door, and locked it. “Hello, doggy.”

Hi, I'm thinking of maybe traveling to Berlin for the first time sometime in either the second half of 2018, or maybe in sometime 2019. I was wondering when would be the best/busiest/piggiest time to go? Folsom Europe? Snax (date)? Berlin Pride (summer)? Another event/date? I'm attending Folsom in San Francisco this year (end of Sep 2018), and I did both Folsom (Sep 2017) and Dore Alley (Jul 2017) in San Francisco last year, as well as various events in Canada/US in the past few years. As of now, I'm browsing accommodation and flights (from Toronto) online until I potentially decide. Your help is appreciated. Thanks,

Your probably right sadly nobody really does. As far as stralthing that is not me I will always be up front regardless if I am on meds or not anyone who fucks me or I fuck them will know I am Poz.

As a general rule, I love taking it raw. Beyond the feeling better, I get an emotional bang from him wanting me enough to take me that way. When I was negative, I'd play safe for the most part, but at the bathhouse I'd submitted to a demands or didn't bother trying otherwise after token resistance. Once I was POZ, I figured I'd tried (kind of) before and now paid the price. Might as well enjoy it. Stupidly enough, I didn't contract HIV while at a bathhouse (timing didn't fit). It was from a BF when the rubber broke one time. Fate, I guess. However, I notice no-one here has mentioned that PrEP does NOT prevent STD's, it just minimized (approaching zero) infection of HIV. There are still other STD's, some which are still incurable such as Herpes and Genital Warts, which scare me more. I would tell anyone considering bareback for the first time with a stranger (admittedly very hot) has to seriously consider all STD's, most especially the incurable ones. Contracting either is a one-way ticket and will impact your life negatively. Not saying that you shouldn't never go raw, but seriously consider the risks before taking the plunge (or, having them plunge in). While the drugs today make being Pos a relatively small impact on day-to-day life (and sex), there are still issues with side effects and the drugs don't work as well on everyone. I get that there are kinks, I've got some wild ones myself, but wanting to contract HIV is one I don't understand. Don't get me wrong, though - I CRAVE raw cock in me all the time. Sadly, I live in a small rural town and can't play at all, let alone be the whore I'd love to be, without risking my professional life

The last week I rose early and headed to Central Park in Burnaby, wearing shorts for easy access. I pulled into the parking lot which was dark, and only one car was parked there. I parked somewhat distant from the car, got out, walked in to the trees, stopped, removed my shorts and lubed my ass, then walked across from the lone car. Spotting a a shadow, I walked a little further, the other man following me. Stopping by a tree, my face to the tree, I presented my ass. The man stepped behind me, exploring my ass, playing with my cheeks and hole. I inched backwards until my ass met his hard cock. Reaching back, I took his cock in my hand, finding it nice and thick, so I guided it into my hole. The guy pumped vigorously, lasting only about five minutes before he came, pulling out after his load was lodged in my ass. I thought he was done, but to my surprise his cock began poking me yet again. I welcomed the chance to get fucked a second time, but realized something felt different, and that's when I realized the top was a different man, one with a longer cock. This man also pumped my ass, but much more aggressively than the first guy, moaning as he came in my hole. As the second guy finished-up, I saw another man lurking nearby, so I motioned lurker over. My ass was on fire! This new guy was wanking his cock, which was of an average size, apparently conflicted about fucking my ass, but eventually entered me and dumped a big load, again in my hole. I love this place!. I will return next week!

I think a lot of guys here on BZ have some sort of addicition to sex or are maybe even obsessed with it. I know I am addicited to it. That doesn't mean I always act on my impulses. Nothing wrong with trying to get as much sex as you want as long as that doesn't start to control your social and professional life like cancelling appointments or calling in sick at work. I know that sometimes when I am really horny I know it's not a good time to pursue that impulse due to obligations, how tempting it may be. As long as that is not the case I would say: go for it! I do when I have the chance and opportunity.

Well guys I hope you enjoy this.... How it happened - part 2 “Not bad, for round one,” he chuckled pulling out of me with a wet pop. I lay on the couch panting hard, as I felt some of his semen began to leak out of me. I had not yet climaxed, but precum from my dick coated my stomach and chest. I couldn’t help but grin at the man who had just bred me for the first time in my life. “You look so fuck’n hot babe,” he smirked at me. “Nothing hotter than a sexy fucking twink freshly bred and waiting to be bred again and again,” he smiled at me taking a couple of pictures with his smartphone. “I think you’re going to be very popular,” he chuckled at me, when he saw me slip my hand down between my legs and start to play with my cum-covered hole. “Time for some more fuck smoke, wish you could meet my friend Mr. T, but we’ll save that for next time when I know you are going to be stay a whole weekend,” he smirked at me. I hesitantly asked, “You want to see me again,” I needed that big cock back inside me the worst way. I seriously don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t wanted to fuck, I mean see me again. I should have been concerned, I had just taken my first raw cock and load, but instead of jumping up to expel his jizz, I pulled my gaping hole wide open to show him. I wanted him back inside me NOW, and this was the best way I could think of asking him to pump another load deep inside my ass. “Oh, don’t worry babe, I’ve got plenty more for your hot lil’ boy pussy,” he smirked slipping two thick fingers inside, just long enough to start me moaning and humping back against his hand. “We’re going fuck for a long-time boy,” he chuckled pulling out his fingers and sucking them clean. “It’s fuck smoke break time, then back to using my cumdump’s boy pussy. You’re my lil’ cumslut fuck toy boy aren’t you babe?” All I could do was smile and nod back to the sweat-covered man who had just introduced me to the pleasures of raw cock. There wasn’t anything about him I didn’t like. He handed me the glass pipe again, as well as the lighter. I flicked the lighter and began to inhale, as I rocked the pipe slowly. I started to hand the pipe back to him, but he shook his head no and told me to finish the rock, while he went to the bedroom to do something. I forgot he was even gone, while I smoked the white rock. By the time he returned I had finished the rock. I never wanted fucked as much as I did at that moment. I NEEDED him inside me now, even more than the first time he sunk his beautiful 8-plus inch cock inside me. “Oh, ya boy, you’re tweaked out of you fuckin’ mind now,” he laughed stroking his hard cock. A thick black ring now encased the base of his cock, while another even thicker one encircled his ball-sack above his balls. His cock looked like a truly potent weapon now and I wanted it inside me in the worse way. He grabbed me by the cock and led me up a couple of steps into his bedroom. There were two camcorders on tripods pointed at the king-sized four-posted bed, one pointing down from the head of the bed, and the other aimed from a bottom corner of the bed. I was puzzled to see only a black plastic sheet on the bed, with several pillows also covered with black plastic. In an alcove, there was a leather swing-like device. “Up bitch, and assume the position,’ he commanded me, slapping the bed with his hand. I normally would have turned and grabbed my clothes and left, if anyone before had ever thought to speak to me like that, but I found myself hopping up on his bed and positioned my ass towards him. All I could think of was his incredible cock fucking me again. I wanted him to fill me with another load of his jizz. I knew intellectually I shouldn’t, but the feel of his raw cock fucking and then exploding deep inside me was the most incredible sex I’d ever had in my life. I NEEDED him to do it again and again and again. I couldn’t believe how horny I was for his dick and jizz. “You’re a good lil’ cumslut boy, aren’t you?” he chuckled turning me slightly so my coming fuck would be captured for posterity. “You’re going to show everyone what a good lil’ bitch slut you are, right babe?” He asked me right before slapping my ass hard, and making me moan in pleasure, as he climbed up on the bed. He spent the next several minutes teasing my hole with his amazing cock, but never pushed all the way back in. Only just far enough to let me know how much my ass missed him inside me. I was begging before the first minute even passed. I begged and promised to do anything, so long as he fucked me again. He encouraged me to talk dirty and nasty, while begging for his dick. He teased me asking if I would let him knock my ass up again if he fucked me. I was so desperate for his cock, I promised he could always knock up my boy cunt anytime he fucked me. I would never have him wrap up when he wanted inside my boy pussy. At this point I would have promised anything to get him to fuck me again. I’d never in my life imagined being this horny. Once my promises had been secured he slammed in balls deep in a single thrust. I moaned loudly, as my eyes rolled back in pleasure. He began to long dick me repeatedly, more often, than not pulling completely out before ramming back in so hard our balls smacked together loudly. Sweat poured from both of us, as he used me all over the bed. We did every imageable position possible. Many I had only seen in hardcore, slutty sex. Honestly, I don’t think I could even remember the total number of times I jizzed. I think maybe four times, I know he came at least five times total, before I finally could not fuck anymore. He pulled a sheet over me, but not both taking a bunch of pictures and used one of the camcorders to do a close-up of my heaving, sweat-drenched, cum-covered body and my gaping, leaking cum-filled hole. “You look so fuckin’ hot babe,” he smiled leaning down to kiss me passionately. “Get some rest, I have a few things to do before I join you there for a rest,” he smiled at me. As he walked away from the bed and back down the stairs to the living room I heard “Welcome to the Jungle” start playing, followed by him answering his cell phone as I started to doze off. “HEY! I take it you liked round one’s live stream,” he chuckled. I wanted to hear more of his conversation since it seemed to be about me, but I was too exhausted. I did hear him continue talking as I slipped into sand land. “Oh, fuck ya, he is, wait ‘til you see the vid after I have it edited for the site. He’s a natural, plus he promised to take on all of my friends raw, if I promised to keep knocking his ass up,” he laughed, loudly. “Nah, he not local, he’s a fresh piece of Hopkins ass.” When I woke up, I found myself still horny, but still tired from all the sex. It then hit me everything I had done the night before. I had gone home with a guy I barely knew and let him fuck me raw. In fact, I had begged him to fuck me and give me his loads. What had I done? I had seriously fucked up bigtime. I would make sure I never let that happen again. I couldn’t let myself be so careless. Suddenly I felt strong arms pulling me close to a warm, naked body. “Afternoon babe,” a familiar voice whispered in my ear as I felt a hard, thick cock make contact with my still slightly sore hole. Before I could say anything, he pushed steadily forward burying his raw cock back inside me. My body shuddered as it accepted readily the thick, hard cock sliding inside my still cum-slicked hole. I couldn’t help myself as I began to massage his incredible cock with my muscles. I helped his entry by pushing back to take even more of the cock, which had taught me the joys of bareback sex. No matter how wrong it was I couldn’t deprive myself or him of the pleasures we enjoyed. “Fuck your ass feels so good on my cock,” he purred into my ear. My only response was to moan and grind against his smooth groin. “Yeah, you missed this didn’t you?” He asked me as he began to long-dick me. “Yes,” I moaned softly, not believing I was letting him fuck me bareback yet again. He just felt so good inside me, I wanted him to just keep fucking me. “Yeah, I knew the first time I saw you on the dancefloor you were a nasty lil’ cumslut,” he whispered in my ear as he licked it, making moan and squirm. “We’re going to have so much fun together, babe,” he hissed in my ear, rabbit fucking me hard. “I’m going to teach and show you so much my lil’ cumslut boy,” he said rolling me on to my hands and knees and continued his assault on my ass. He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my face up, “Look! How hot you look getting fucked, you were meant to be used like this babe,” he grunted to me as I looked at myself in the mirror above the headboard. I did look hot, though I seriously looked like a slut as he continued to long dick me. He knew how to dominate me and turn me on like no one else I’d ever been with. I was indeed his to use as he wanted for as long as he wanted. I was so conflicted about what was happening to me, but my hidden kinky, slutty side seamed totally in control. I wanted his load inside me. “Br…bre…breed me,” I finally panted out, knowing how wrong it was, but knowing how good it felt. I wanted to feel his big, thick cock pulse inside me again. I would deal with the consequences later, now I just needed his jizz and badly. He smiled toothily at me in the mirror, as he smacked my ass and began long-dicking me completely pulling all the way out before slam back in hard. His sweat-drenched balls smacked hard against my own, which just made the sex even better if that was possible. I was ready to climax again as he thrust back in hitting my prostrate. I saw stars as I fired my load on the black plastic sheet beneath me. “FUCK! SHIT! YES!” he shouted as he thrust inside one last time and flooded my insides. I could feel his load begin to leak out my hole as he slowly withdrew, before slamming back in. He repeated this several times, which in turn made me leak more cum out of my own semi-hard penis. He finally pulled out and drove his mouth into my freshly fucked my ass. I couldn’t take it anymore and collapsed on my freshly shot load. All I could do was moan and take his incredible rimming. When he finally seemed satisfied, he forcefully flipped me over and moved up to kiss me. As I opened my mouth he opened his and released the loads he had eaten out of me into my mouth. Before I could do anything about it he grabbed my head with his hands, beginning passionately kissing me sharing his jizz with me until after what seemed an eternity I had eaten and swallowed everything he had fucked into me over the night. “Well babe,” he said smiling down at me, “I guess we better get you cleaned up so you can get a little rest before classes in the morning. I hope you didn’t have any unfinished homework,” he chuckled. “What time is it?” I asked not knowing how long we’d been at this. “It’s about eight Sunday night,” he chuckled. We’ve had a lot of fun all day.” “WHAT! It’s that late, shit my friends will be wondering what happened,” I said sitting up with a panicked look. “Shhhh…Babe it’s okay, you can catch a bus back to school a couple blocks from here and will be back in no time.” He smiled reassuringly at me. Hop in the shower and get cleaned up,” he said ushering me into the bedroom behind his bedroom. “I’d join you in the shower, but then you might not get home ‘til Wednesday,” he smirked giving me a kiss. I climbed in the hot shower and enjoyed the feel of the water pounding against me. I don’t know how long I was in there, but I felt completely refreshed though still tired after my experiences of sex with this man I still didn’t know his name. I had spent almost a complete day with this guy and still didn’t know his name. The black plastic sheet was no longer on the bed, instead a blood red set of sheets were exposed. My clothes lay on the bed, and I could hear him down in the living room/ kitchen area doing something. I realized as I dressed my underwear was missing. I got dressed anyway, because I really did need to get back to Hopkins. I walked down the steps to the living area to get my shoes, he was coming out of the kitchen area with a bottle of Gatorade. I couldn’t believe how sex he looked standing there in skin-tight black jeans, and nothing else but a slouchie beanie. He shot me a big grin. “There’s my babe,” he said pulling me into a tight hug and then a kiss. I couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Hey, did you see my underwear down here somewhere?” I asked looking around. He laughed, “Yeah I kept it as a souvenir of our first date, besides I like my boys to freeball,” he smiled back at me. “You want to see me again?” I asked suddenly excited someone wanted to date me. “Fuck ya babe, I want to see a whole lot more of you,” he said leaning down and kissing me hard, as he gripped my ass. “I have so much I want to experience with you,” he whispered into my ear. I boned up instantly in his arms, and I could tell he was boned as well. I was excited at the thought of finally having a boyfriend, and a sexy one at that. “It’s finally gotten colder, and I know you weren’t wearing a coat, so you can borrow one of mine until you come down this coming Friday. I’m having a small get together with some close friends and I’d love you to meet them. Bring whatever you need for the weekend and you can go back Sunday. How does that sound?” He said opening a closet door and pulling out an expensive looking black leather jacket with a gold embroidered scorpion on the upper left side. “You can wear this and bring it back on Friday,” he said with a smirk. “Thanks,” I started to say, but stopped and looked sheepishly at him. “I’m sorry I forgot your name,” I said softly, waiting for his reaction. He didn’t get angry, but rather started laughing. “You didn’t forget it,” he said grinning. “You were too horny to even care, which made things more fun,” pulling me into another kiss. “I’m Michael,” he paused briefly looking at me before leaning done to my ear and whispering, “And you’re Ian, my lil’ cumslut boy.” He opened the door and unlocked the door grate to let me leave. It certainly way colder than it had been the night before. I was glad Michael had loaned me his jacket. I couldn’t wait to see him again. My new boyfriend, as I walked towards the bus stop to take me back to Hopkins. I was on cloud nine.

Part 11 Tom slammed his spike tipped cock balls deep into my ass. I screamed in pain, feeling the spike tear me inside. My body bucked and tried to get away from the assault on my ass, but I couldn’t move. Tom stayed silent. After a few minutes I blacked out. I must have dipped in and out of consciousness, occasionally I would feel the familiar pain in my ass when Tom fucked me, but I never remained awake for long. I don’t know how long it went on for. I eventually woke up feeling heavy, I was no longer tied up and I was wearing a pair of cotton briefs. My hole felt tender and tight, I could hear voices arguing around me. “Tom, you should have called me sooner, you're lucky I got here when I did.” “Brian he took it like a champ, you remember how intense you got about your own boy!” “Yeah but I have medical training, you don’t want to kill the kid. He should have had fluids two days ago, how many times did you fuck him with the spike?” “About 6 loads worth. Not used it in the past couple of days though, he was taking longer to come round after each fuck. That’s why I called you.” “Just as well you did. I’ll examine his hole and test him, I’m sure you’ll have claimed him by now.” I lay there with my eyes closed listening to them talk about me. I was too tired to really take in what they were saying. I felt my body being rolled over, making me face down on the mattress, I felt my briefs being pulled off exposing my ass. The familiar coolness of lube on my hole and the slow stretch of the speculum in my ass made me feel more awake. I realised I had an IV in my arm as I moved slightly. “Fuck Tom, how much cum has he had, his hole is coated in it. Tears are beginning to heal up, looks like they were deep. I’m sure he’s got it now.” “I used some frozen loads I’d been saving for lube. Will it show up in a test that quickly?” “One way to find out. You were right though, he’s a tough boy” Brian removed the speculum and put my briefs back on me. He took my arm for a sample of blood. Tom climbed into the bed next to me and held me in his arms, I felt strangely comfortable. He leant down and kissed my hair and ran his fingers, I felt so confused. Tom had been so cruel to me yet here he was being affectionate. “Congratulations Tom, you’ve claimed him. You’ll need to wait until the initial flu has passed to check the strain is the same but it looks promising. Maybe you should reward him?” Tom kissed me again, this time on the mouth, his lips lingered over mine. My body rushed, I still couldn’t get hard though with my dick being locked away still. Tom got up and began to walk Brian out. “Thanks again Brian, you’ll come to his flu party?” “With your strain Tom he’ll need my help to get through it, be good to him it’ll happen within the next couple of days.” I finally opened my eyes, there wasn’t much left in the IV bag on the stand next to the bed. I glanced around the room. It was still bare and dimly lit, I caught my reflection in the mirrored ceiling, I looked thinner, my hair unkept and I had thick stubble. I did however look clean and didn’t smell. Tom must still have been washing me. “Welcome back boy. You’ve been in and out for a few days now. Brian was just checking out your progress.”

Sorry for the delay with the next chapter. Let me know what you guys think! Part 8 I didn't know how long I slept for, when I woke up I felt like I was lying in a cloud. My body was heavy, I was now naked and had been washed. My stomach let out a growl, I hadn’t eaten since Saturday. I didn't even know what day it was, or the time. There were no windows in the room. I glanced around. The sling was gone and the sex closet closed over. I sat up and immediately regretted it, my ass burned out in pain. I still had the butt plug in. I got up and went for a piss in the en-suite. I tried the bedroom door but it was locked. I was trapped. I tried to remove the butt plug from my ass, but it was too deep and I couldn’t get a grip on it to try pull it out. I climbed back into the bed and began to sob. What had happened to me? The door opened. I wiped my face, not wanting Tom to see my like this. I just wanted to go home. “I’ve brought you something to eat, you slept right through the day.” Tom placed a tray of soup and some slices of bread on the bed next to me. “What’s the time, is it Sunday? I asked trying to sound calm and not panicked. Tom laughed, “It’s just after 7 in the evening and today is Sunday kiddo” ‘When can I go home?” I looked at Tom cautiously. “John, you are home. I know this is an adjustment but it’s not going to change. You’re mine, don’t you remember saying you belong to Daddy?” I sat in silence, a thousand things ran through my mind, “What about my work?” why was that the first thing I asked? “You’ve called off work for 2 weeks boy. It’s all been arranged, I want to make sure I’ve claimed you and you’re truly mine.” “You contacted my work? How do you know where I work? Please let me go, I won’t tell anyone about this weekend” Tom’s blue eyes narrowed and he sighed. “Never mind any of that, you’ve got to eat something. You need your strength.” I felt frustrated, who did this guy think he was? I kept my face passive, not showing the anger building up in me. “Need my strength for what?” I spat out the words. “For when my seed takes over you. I’m highly viral, and my strain is resistant to meds. You’ll carry my DNA for life, just as a Daddy’s boy should.” I made to stand up but Tom calmly put his hand on my chest. “Don’t make me take control, you’ve been doing well Boy.” I looked at him in disbelief. “Take control? What the fuck!” I lost my cool “Are you serious? You’ve already raped me, had me gang raped, tore up my ass and filled me with infected cum. You’re keeping me against my will, have contacted my work after clearly stalking me for some time and yet you don't want to “take control”” I rolled my eyes and immediately started to panic, the adrenaline was wearing off. Tom narrowed his eyes and spoke softly “Eat your food boy, I’ll allow you that one outburst due to you adjusting to your role. Do it again and being raped will feel like a day at the beach in comparison to what I could do with you.” He got up slowly and left the room, locking the door on his way out. What had I got myself into? Out of desperation I ate the food he had brought me, I wolfed it down and felt better having ate something. I put the empty tray next to the door. I lay in the bed for hours trying to think of a way of escape, yet each time I thought about it I realised I was trapped. He had contacted my work and been watching me for 3 months. Tom clearly wasn’t someone to mess with. Eventually I came to the conclusion that if I played along I’d be less likely to be hurt and could maybe reach out for help when I got out of this room. I tried not to think of the HIV. He had tricked me the first time he fucked me, he deliberately broke the condom to infect me...my cock stirred at the memory. Tom came back to the room, he was wearing only a pair of white briefs, they barely contained his monster cock. He locked the door behind him. “If you’ve calmed down now, lets get that butt plug out of your ass.” I made my way to the bathroom with him. He had me squat over a bucket and slowly he eased out the butt plug. It stung like hell but Tom was gentle. It took me by surprise. Without warning cum and blood rushed from my hole. I felt instantly lighter. Tom pushed the bucket aside and led me back to the bedroom. “I want you to have one last tender moment, I will be in control of you from now on boy, my pleasure and satisfaction will be your only focus. Tonight I will give you pure satisfaction once last time, before it becomes insignificant in our lives together.” I tried not to roll my eyes and told myself to just play along with him. Tom took my cock in his hand and before I could fight the urge I was hard. He pulled me close to him. “Daddy is going to fuck the last neg load your body will ever make… every last drop of it” I was so hard I couldn’t focus, we were in bed before I realised we’d moved and Tom had his tongue buried in my ass. “Fuck, you taste bitter boy” Tom said with a smile. I moaned in pleasure. I felt the familiar cold sting at my ass. Tom had lined up his thick pierced cock at my hole. “Tell Daddy what you want boy” “Fuck me Daddy” I played along. He slide into my ass with more ease than before, but it was still tight and after the first six inches it was painful again. “That’s it, open up for daddy.” Tom made me take long deep hits of poppers. My mind was spinning, Was I enjoying being fucked? I was leaking pre-cum. “I’m not all the way in yet boy. I want you to cum as I breed you. Make you shoot that neg load from the inside.” My body was in ecstasy and agony all at once. I eventually felt his balls against my ass and knew he was in me completely. He changed the angle that he was fucking me and before long I was in a state of frenzy. Each time he slid in and out of my hole he brushed his piercing against my prostate. My stomach was quickly covered with a pool of pre-cum. He took my cock in his hands and I could feel my orgasm building. Tom stared into my eyes, my lips betrayed me; “Breed me Daddy, claim your boy. Cum in my ass, knock me up.” “You want my toxic load boy?” Tom asked not breaking his stare. “Yes Daddy…poz my boy hole” He fisted my cock and my ass started to clench, I couldn’t hold it back any longer and neither could he. We both screamed out in pleasure and as ribbons of cum shot across my body, Tom filled my ass. It was the most intense orgasm I’d ever had. Before the last of the orgasm Tom grabbed my body and pulled it into his, he kissed me. It was both tender and romantic. “I love you boy” Tom said his piercing blue eyes locked on mine. “I love you too Daddy” My stomach flipped…was I still playing along?

Part 7 'They’re all positive. Tom is positive. He’s been fucking HIV into my torn hole all night.' My mind went into a panic. I tried to struggle but couldn’t move. My breathing became panicked and quick but because I couldn’t open my mouth I felt slowly suffocated. Tom reached down to me and took advantage of my panic, placing poppers under my nose. I had no choice but to inhale. My body grew warm and flushed and my hole twitched. I felt numb all over. He grabbed the syringe filled with toxic cum and slid it deep inside my hole. It was cold as it filled me, my ass felt full with his seed. He positioned himself at my ass and in one unmerciful thrust he ripped deep into me. I tried to scream but couldn’t make a sound other than a guttural moan. Leaning down, Tom whispered in my ear “Daddy never said he was negative, boy. I’ve bred your ass and claimed it. I chose you. This is your gift.” I felt my eyes fill with tears, I didn't want this. Why had I allowed myself to get into this situation? The tears streamed from my eyes. The men around me noticed, and someone, a man with white hair and the biohazard tattoo above his swelling cock taunted me sneering “Look at the bitch. Crying with happiness. You love your Daddy, don’t you?” I tried to shake my head. Did all these men think I wanted this? I looked pleadingly into Tom’s beautiful blue eyes. “Daddy loves you John. I want this for you and me. Take it and enjoy it. We’re free now.” I didn’t quite know what he meant but I knew he was close to cumming. My ass burned and I could feel the cum splashing from my hole with every thrust. I felt his cock ring stabbing at my insides. I suspected my ass was bleeding. Tom thrust harder into my hole, and I distinctly felt his cock spasm as he came, the jets of cum flowing deep into my body. The spectators cheered Tom on, catcalling him saying “Fucking breed him,” and “Give him that Daddy load,” and perhaps most to-the-point, “Knock-up his cunt.” Yeah, the room was filled with the sound of encouragement for Tom as he became my Daddy. After he was satisfied that I’d received ever drop of his cum he withdrew his cock, walked round next to my head and placed a blindfold over my eyes, remarking “I want you to feel the cum filling you, not focus on who’s giving it to you. My load is the only one you should love and cherish. The rest are because I want it for you.” Tom placed more poppers under my nose as the first cock slammed into me. I spent hours taking load after load of cum. I began to feel satisfied knowing I had made someone cum. Every time I felt the spasm of a cock or the moan of one of the men in the room I felt a sense of pride. Was I doing a good job? I didn’t want to let Daddy down. I couldn’t believe I felt this way. Tom had truly broken my mind. I was craving the cum of every man present. Each time another syringe of lube was unloaded into me I felt closer to Tom, knowing Tom’s cum somehow allowed the other men to use my ass with violence. I felt the familiar sting of Tom’s cock as it buried into my now destroyed hole. Light flooded my eyes as the blindfold was removed. Tom’s blue eyes were the first thing I saw. He was smiling. I felt a deep sense of calm wash over me. I glanced up at the ceiling: the room was empty except for the two of us. Each time Tom’s cock slid from my ass I noticed it was covered in thick white cum. I knew there was nothing I could do now, it was too late, this was my fate. Tom quickly bred my ass, blowing his load so deep I could practically taste it. Reaching over to the table, he grabbed the jar of cum, which was now two-thirds empty. The remaining third ended-up in my ass by means of the syringe. I thought my ass would burst, and apparently Tom was of the same mind, as he abruptly slid a butt plug into my hole. Mercifully this plug did not have spikes. “Good boy. You did Daddy proud tonight.” With that Tom released my legs, but before either leg hit the mattress I had passed out from exhaustion.

Part 6 I woke up feeling hot and tight as if I had been wrapped in something. When I opened my eyes the room was dark and my vision was restricted, I had something over my face. It was a hood, it was tight, I couldn’t open my mouth and I only had two nostril slits to breath. I tried to remain calm, not knowing what was now happening to me. “Good you’re awake. I took the liberty of dressing you in something more exciting” It was Toms voice, I tried to look around but my hands and feet were restrained, I was face down on the bed now. “You look hot in rubber boy, you're making daddy hard” I realised I must be wearing a rubber body suit. Completely covered except for my ass, which felt cool and exposed. Tom had climbed on the bed behind me and I could feel his body near my ass. It was burning with the butt plug still tearing my hole. “I won’t lie boy, this is going to hurt” Tom said laughing to himself I thought I’d pass out with the pain when he started to slide the butt plug from my ass. He twisted it as he pulled it from inside me, I attempted to scream but I couldn’t open my mouth to make any noise. I just groaned into myself. With one last tug the butt plug was removed from my ass. Almost instantly Tom slammed his cock balls deep into my now destroyed ass. “Fuck boy. You’re wrecked…such a sloppy hole, it’s dripping” The wind had been fucked out of me, I struggled to catch my breath with the suit and hood on. Tom fucked me for what felt like hours, my hole burned and never relaxed to the invasion of his cock. I don't think it would ever feel comfortable inside me. He never slowed his pace, occasionally speeding up but never loosing momentum. The entire time he told me how much of a good boy I had been for daddy and that he would reward me with a gift. “Fourth load boy. You’ve definitely got it now.” Had Tom cum in me 4 times? I felt used and terrified but shamefully horny. He untied me and lifted my weak body, He placed me down and I felt suspended in the air, I was in a sling. Had Tom built it while I slept? I glanced upwards and could see my reflection in the mirrored ceiling. I was completely covered in shiny black rubber, my cock completely hidden and just a hint of my exposed ass as Tom fixed my legs into restraints, keeping them open. That’s when I noticed Tom had changed. He was wearing leather trousers and a black harness across his chest. His cock was hanging out, it was pierced, he caught me looking at it. “I thought I’d put my ring in for you boy. I’ve told the others not to wear theirs, I want you to know when it’s Daddys cock in you.” Others? What others? My breathing started to increase again. Tom noticed. “Relax boy, it’s all part of the gift. My friends seen you in the bar with me. I promised they could help me break you in. Make you discover your true calling.” My heart was racing and my mind was running a mile a second. I wasn’t into group sex, Tom had barebacked me, I didn’t want strangers cumming in me. I looked at Tom, I could vaguely make out a tattoo on his chest, it was black and red and looked tribal. I knew I had seen it before. “They'll be here soon boy. Just remember you're my boy. I won’t let anything happen to you that I don’t want to happen.” He walked over to his sex wall and removed the glass jar of lube and placed it, along with a long syringe, on to a table next to the sling. He caught me glancing at his chest again. He just smiled and filled the syringe with lube . “This is all Daddy boy. I want my friends to fuck me deeper into you with every thrust.” Tom could probably sense my confusion. “This jar is 3 months worth of my cum boy. I told you I’ve been saving every drop since I first seen your tight little ass. My friends are going to use it as lube before they add to my loads already.” He never gave me a chance to respond, he walked out of the room and left me. After half an hour or so, the door opened and Tom strode over towards me, followed by a group of men. I couldn’t see how many there were, at least 10 anyway. I tried to look at them, they were all in their 40’s, muscled and stripped down to chaps, jockstraps and harnesses. They looked like they had just came from a kinky porn set. I noticed one of the guys had a similar tattoo to Toms, not only him but another, and another. In fact all the guys had the tattoo, in varying places. Some above their crotch, on their chest, arms. I’m sure one of them had it on his dick. ‘Biohazard’, thats what it was… wait did that mean they were all…

Wish CumUnion would cum back to Tampa, or even better, Orlando. Im a bottom cum slut like you horse, but look forward to meeting when you get to Orlando!

Last question first – Otters are thin and hairy. Bears are much larger. Looking at your body type, you'd probably be called a cub – especially as you get more hair. (Cubs are shorter than bears and often younger). That said, congrats on your transition! I personally think FTMs can be really hot. Some guys aren't into the vag, but it doesn't bother me Whether guys find hair a turn on depends on the guy. It's neither right or wrong. Everyone has their preferences (and that's OK). Personally I just don't like subble… Everything else depends on how well the guy pulls it off. Some guys would look weird with hair, others would look weird if they were smooth.

Here's me swallowing my own cum, I love it. Hate to see it go to waste!

Again not mine I just altered it to fit breeding zones rules THE BUILDER - by pedro976 - This story is a work of fiction. If you are under 18 or material of this nature is illegal in your present area. By continuing, you are confirming that it is legal for you to view the material in this story. In addition, you are agreeing that the author, editor, and this site will not be held responsible for any consequences of you viewing or downloading the story. - - - - 1 - - - - Krzysztof's spunk splashed across Tom's open mouth, coating his lips and tongue in thick creamy cum. "FUCK YEAH" grunted the massive muscle hunk as he stroked out the last few drops into his little boy's mouth. Tom was lying on his bed staring up wide eyed at the builder who was straddling him, his massive legs were either side of the eighteen year olds head. Moments before the thick meaty thighs now framing his face had been pounding Tom for the second time that night. His arse was still raw and open from the merciless fucking. Once the effect of the cocaine wore away Tom was pretty sure he was going to be barely able to walk. At that moment though he didn't care. He was still experiencing the effects of the drugs and he was completely in awe of the man God who had opened up a whole new world of pleasure to him. Krzysztof looked down at him and smiled. "Good little baby?" he asked, wiping his slippery cum covered cock against the teenagers plump lips. "God, yeah, it was good" replied Tom breathlessly. Krzysztof raised an eyebrow and Tom realised immediately that he had forgotten to refer to Krzysztof in the way he preferred. "It was good Daddy" he corrected himself. Krzysztof laughed "You learn baby" and then climbing off Tom and standing up he said "I shower" and with that he walked out of the bedroom. Tom watched the massive Eastern European builder's broad muscular back and powerful arse as he left. He breathed a deep sigh and looked up at the ceiling. "Wow" he muttered to himself, but what now? He was completely wired on the cocaine and was not tired at all. He heard the sound of the shower from the bathroom. After a short time Krzysztof returned and pulled on his jeans and vest. "Are you going?" asked Tom disappointedly. "Yes" replied Krzysztof and saw the dejected look on Tom's face. "You come" said Krzysztof. "Oh" said Tom, a smile replacing the frown "Where to?" "You see" came the builder's mysterious reply. - - - - 2 - - - - Tom had showered himself then the big man had led him to his van and they had driven away from his house and into town. Tom's enquiries about where they were going were met with silence and so instead the two of them had made small talk about other stuff. The drugs were wearing off a little bit though and Tom began to worry a bit about what he was getting himself into. Soon enough Krzysztof parked the van next to a row of garages and turned off the engine. "We here" he said, picking up his bag and opening the driver's door. Tom got out the passenger side and walked around. They had arrived at a small block of flats. The building was well lit and looked pretty modern. Still, Tom could not help but feel more than a little apprehensive about what he was walking into. Then again it was night time, he was not too sure what part of town they were in and he had no means of getting home. Following Krzysztof who had begun to walk into the building was his only option. The huge man turned around to look at him as he caught up and must have noted the apprehension on his face. "Don't worry little baby" he said "I sort you out in flat, make feel happy again" and he gave Tom a reassuring smile. Tom assumed he meant more cocaine. It is ok he told himself. He had only sniffed a small amount. The tiny line in the bathroom and the two lines in the bedroom. That was not so much he reasoned. Even if he did a little bit more he would be back home tomorrow and there was plenty of recovery time before his mother returned from her business trip. Krzysztof rung a flat number and the security door buzzed open. The two of them went in and took the lift. "My friend, he has, what do you call it, top floor flat" Krzysztof tried to explain. "Oh" Tom realised what he was saying "You mean the penthouse flat?" "Yeah" smiled Krzysztof "The penthouse" and the way he pronounced the word made Tom laugh. "Hey, no laugh at accent" Krzysztof complained and he took Tom's head in the iron grip of his massive hands, leant down and kissed the teenager forcefully. Tom responded in kind and felt himself getting instantly aroused. Before he could do anything else the lift pinged and the doors opened. Krzysztof pulled away "Come" he beckoned and the two of them left the lift and walked into the corridor. It was obvious to Tom from the single door that the flat they were going to was the only one on this floor. Krzysztof didn't knock the door because it had already been unlocked. Tom could hear that dance music was playing inside. Pushing the door open the two of them walked into the flat. Tom had to admire his surroundings. The entrance led straight into the main living area which was modernly furnished to a high finish. There were two large leather sofas either side of the room. In the middle was a huge matching leather table that was the size of a double bed and Tom assumed could be used to sit on as well as keep magazines and stuff. Double doors led out onto a wooden decked balcony that looked out over town. It was lit up with night lights and the doors were slightly open to allow the breeze in. It was a bit much to take in, especially the massive flat screen television on the wall which was playing a porn movie involving a huge gay orgy. "Hey Krzysztof" shouted a voice and a guy walked in from a room that Tom assumed was the bedroom. He was a little shorter than Krzysztof but was still over six feet. It was what he was wearing that caught Tom's attention first. He had a leather cross belt strapped tight across his defined hairy pecs. On his wrist he wore a leather gauntlet and then a pair of tight leather trousers. That was it. Tom raised his eyebrows. He had seen guys wearing leather on the various porn sites he visited but he had never really thought it was something that would turn him on. It did now though, his cock stiffened a little at the site in front of him. Tom took in the rest of the guy. He had short close cropped dark brown hair, designer stubble and was around forty years old. He was muscled but nowhere near as large as Krzysztof. His face was angular and he had sharp eyes. He was very sexy. "Mateusz" greeted Krzysztof and the two men hugged. They spoke in Polish for a short while making Tom feel a little uncomfortable before Krzysztof turned and introduced him. "Mateusz, this Tom. It his first time" explained Krzysztof. "Hello Tom" greeted Mateusz and before Tom could say hi in return the man grabbed him by the waist band and pulled him against him. "Mmmm" he growled leaning down so his face was against Tom's. He stretched out his tongue and licked up from Tom's chin across his mouth and to his nose in one motion. Much like a lion may lick the face of its mate thought Tom. "We will make your first time a good one" he promised Tom and laughed. Tom was not quite sure what to do so he smiled nervously. Mateusz let him go. "Rack up some stuff Krzysztof" he ordered "then you can get Tom changed and we can have some fun" Krzysztof used a little mirror that was sat on the large sofa table and laid out six lines of cocaine. "Guests first" offered Mateusz and Tom took the rolled up note he was offered. He hesitated slightly. Should he do more drugs? He accepted that he didn't really have much choice given his situation. Fuck it, he thought. He would just do this little bit more, the first lines he had done back at home had made him feel amazing and if he was going to stay with these two guys then he guessed he was going to need that feeling again. He snorted both the lines and allowed the wave of euphoria to begin to take effect as he watched Krzysztof then Mateusz snort up the remainder of the cocaine. "Right" said Krzysztof taking Tom's hand "You change" He led his boy into the bedroom from where Mateusz had emerged. Tom followed not quite sure what was expected of him. The cocaine had made him not particularly bothered. He laughed when he saw the collection of leather gear on the bed. "I never thought I would ever do anything like this" he said picking up some of the kit. "You put these on" said Krzysztof holding up a pair of leather wrist gauntlets. Tom slipped them on and did them up. He noticed that each gauntlet had two clasps and he realised that they could be locked together like handcuffs. Krzysztof held out a leather jock strap. It was studded and the way it was designed meant that Tom's arse would be totally exposed and only his cock would be covered. He realised he was going to get fucked again. His cock twitched at the thought. He quickly got undressed as he chatted and laughed with Krzysztof at what leather kit to wear. The cocaine had done its work again and Tom totally relaxed. He slid into the studded leather jock as Krzysztof reached out and put a studded metal dog collar around his neck. There was a full length mirror standing in the corner of the room and Tom stood and admired himself. He looked hot. Krzysztof pulled off his own clothes and stood completely naked watching him. His cock was fully erect and throbbing. Tom saw him in the reflection of the mirror and turned to look. "Wow" he said admiring the man's muscular body once more. "Just... Wow" Krzysztof laughed and flexed his massive body. "Are you wearing anything?" Tom asked Krzysztof. "I too big" replied the giant and to illustrate his point he held up a leather strap that Tom assumed was meant to go around a bicep. Krzysztof flexed showing of his muscles and Tom realised the strap would not even fit around one half of the hunk's huge arms. "Come on you two" shouted Mateusz from the other room. "We need this" said Krzysztof and he picked up the full length mirror and carried it from the bedroom and into the living room. Tom took a deep breath and then followed. - - - - 3 - - - - He walked in to see Krzysztof positioning the mirror in front of the sofa table that dominated the centre of the room between the two large sofas. "Here's our boy" said Mateusz "Looking good you little leather bitch" he laughed. Tom laughed with him and his cock twitched in the jock. "Looks like your horny" said Mateusz and he came and stood right next to Tom looking down at him. He took Tom's face in one hand. "Are you horny for me baby?" he whispered to him. Tom's cock was rock hard now. "Yeah" he whispered back. Mateusz snogged him deeply. His tongue slid into Tom's mouth. Tom tried to respond but Mateusz's tongue dominated his own and pressed deep into his throat. "Mmmm" growled Mateusz pulling away. "Do you want to feel great Tom" he whispered to him. Krzysztof was stood watching them slowly wanking his massive tool. Tom, at that moment, only had eyes for Mateusz who held his head tight, gazed deeply into his eyes and fixed him with a smouldering stare. "Do you?" he asked again. "Yeah" Tom replied. Transfixed by the gorgeous eyes staring into him. Mateusz reached to a small table on the side and picked up a small clear glass tube that ended in a little ball. It was had trails of smoke coming from a small hole at the end and Tom realised it was a pipe of some sort. "Smoke it baby" ordered Mateusz. "Is it cannabis?" asked Tom. "Not quite, its meth" came the reply. Tom had no idea what that was. He guessed it was some sort of cannabis and because it was only smoking he thought it can't be that bad a thing to do. Mateusz held the pipe to Tom's lips and Tom inhaled. Smoke billowed out his mouth at first and Mateusz told him to breathe deeply and hold the smoke in. Tom tried again and this time he succeeded in smoking it properly. He exhaled and then had another go. "That's enough for the minute mate" said Mateusz and he handed the pipe to Krzysztof who held it to his own lips. Tom was about to ask what he could expect to happen but he didn't need to for just at that minute it hit him. The cocaine was one thing but this was something else entirely. The high was so intense. His eyes rolled back into his head. "Woh" he said. "Good isn't it" laughed Mateusz who had been smoking the meth before Tom and Krzysztof came in from the bedroom. Krzysztof came up behind Tom. He handed the pipe to Mateusz who took a huge drag and held the smoke in his mouth before bending down and snogging Tom. Along with Mateusz's tongue, Tom's mouth was filled with the meth vapours. His cock was raging hard and he opened his lips and let Mateusz dominate his mouth once more. He felt Krzysztof take his hands and pull them behind his back. He heard the clasps of the wrist cuffs lock. His arms were now secure behind his back but he didn't care as he took all of Mateusz's big tongue into his mouth. He moaned and Mateusz pushed harder against him, gripping the back of his head and snogging him hard. Tom flinched slightly as he felt Krzysztof slide a finger into his tight hole. "You so tight baby" growled Krzysztof as he pushed in a second digit and began to finger fuck his little boy's hole. Tom couldn't reply as Mateusz's tongue pushed his own down and pushed deep into the back of his throat. He could only moan with the pleasure flowing over him. Mateusz released him and Krzysztof took his fingers from Tom's tight pussy and put his massive arms around him from behind and held him tight. Mateusz stepped back and took a final drag on the meth pipe. He put it down and then slowly and deliberately undid the zip on his leather trousers. Tom's eyes widened. Mateusz took out in his hand a massive cock. It was well over twelve inches thought Tom. Longer and thicker Krzysztof's and that was the biggest tool Tom had ever seen until now. "Hold him" Mateusz said to Krzysztof and Krzysztof spun Tom around so he was facing him. He gripped the trussed up lad tight in a muscular embrace. Tom's head rested against his powerful pecs. Tom felt that Mateusz had come up behind him and then he felt the huge cock at the entrance to his hole. He squeezed his eyes tight shut. Mateusz took hold of his hips and Tom felt his sphincter begin to rip open as the massive cock head pushed hard into him. His arse muscles gave way under the onslaught and Tom felt the huge shaft follow. It never ended and Tom felt light headed and dizzy as Mateusz grunted and pushed into him further. Krzysztof tightened his hug and held the boy still. "FUCK BITCH" grunted Mateusz "TAKE IT ALL" and he pushed the last few inches into the teenager. Tom cried out and Krzysztof pushed his head against his massive chest muffling the cry. "FUCK YEAAAAAH" laughed Mateusz. "The little bitch has taken it all." He put his mouth next to Tom's ear and whispered "How does it feel to have all my cock in you baby?" Tom let out a muffled cry. "Fuck him" growled Krzysztof and Mateusz took up the idea. He slid the massive shaft out all the way and just as Tom's tight hole began to close he slammed it back into him. Tom's cries were muffled into Krzysztof's huge body. Mateusz began to fuck Tom relentlessly, pounding in and out of him. The meth, mixed with the pleasure and the intense pain caused Tom to black out for a moment. He tried to say something but only animal grunts were coming from his lips. The fucking was intense and Mateusz was moaning loudly as he fed his monster meat into the boy. Tom felt himself blacking out again and the last thing he heard was Mateusz moaning that he was going to breed his hole. - - - - 4 - - - - Tom slowly opened his eyes. He was laying face down on the sofa table in the centre of the room. Jesus, he thought, he must have finally slipped into some drug and sex induced coma. He tried to move his arms but realised that he was still wearing the wrist cuffs and they remained locked behind his back. He was about to get up and ask for someone to take the things of him but before he could do anything his tight boy hole suddenly exploded with pain as it was forced open. "AWWWWWWW FUCK" he cried out as the pain around pleasure rippled out from his sphincter muscle. Tom could not turn to look behind himself but the full length mirror was still positioned in front of where he lay and he looked into it to discover the source of his violation. He expected to see Krzysztof or Mateusz behind him but instead there was an insanely muscular ripped black man stood there, his huge hands clenching Tom's hips tightly. He had obviously just driven what was an enormous thick black cock into Tom's little arse. Tom took in the stranger's appearance. He was very tall and very muscular, every bit the size of Krzysztof. His pec muscles were so ripped they had thick veins appearing at their edges that ran over his shoulders and down his bulging biceps and trunk like arms. His nipples were massive and one of them had a silver metal bar piercing. The defined six pack of his stomach was matched only by his perfect V shaped torso. There was not an ounce of fat on him. Finally Tom was able to look at his face. He had strong afro-Caribbean features, a neatly trimmed goatee beard and from what Tom could see a shaved head. He was wearing a leather police officers cap. Around his arms were tight bicep straps making his muscles bulge even more. He wore a leather harness over his shoulders and chest and leather gauntlets on his wrist. He looked as if he had walked straight out of a fetish porn movie. He must have arrived when Tom was out of it. Tom felt the man's massive shaft push further into him, it kept coming and Tom thought it would never end. "Urrrrrrrrrrrgh" he closed his eyes tight and winced as the cock slid up deep inside him. Just when Tom thought he couldn't take anymore he felt the man's thighs touch his little bubble butt and come to a halt. "I have woken our little slut up" he heard the black man say in a deep voice and there was laughter. Tom lay still with his shut and tried to get used to the monster cock throbbing inside his hole. "Hey Tom, Tom baby, open your eyes" said Mateusz. Tom did as he was told and saw that Mateusz was knelt down next to him. The man cupped Tom's face in his hands. "Ok baby?" he asked "You are going to love Marc fucking you, but you probably need some help" and Tom saw that he had in his hand the little pipe that contained the meth. Mateusz held it to Tom's lips and the boy smoked it. He inhaled deeply. "Hold it in baby" commanded Mateusz and Tom held the smoke at the back of his throat and felt the vapours rushing straight to his brain. He eventually breathed the smoke out. The high came to him almost instantly and it was very strong. Mateusz watched as Tom's pupils dilated and then he gently patted Tom's cheek before standing up. "You're good to go stud" he said to Marc. "Right on" he replied, the sense of anticipation in his voice was clear. Tom breathed deeply as his high swept over his body, loosening his joints and relaxing his inhibitions once more. He looked into the mirror and saw the black hunk keep one hand on his hips and place the other over the wrist cuffs that still bound his hands behind his back. He pulled Tom back towards him so that his cock entered the lad all the way. "Mmmmmm" moaned Tom in pleasure. "We are going to start slow baby boy" promised Marc and Tom felt him begin to withdraw his huge meat. It slid back out of his cunt almost all the way to the huge cock head. Marc let it rest at the entrance to the teenager's hole for the moment before he let his powerful hip muscles move his tool back down inside the boy's cunt. "Yeah baby" he whispered "Nice and slow" "Mmmmm yeah" replied Tom. The gentle sensation of the cock slowly sliding against is prostate and deep into his guts made him shiver with pleasure. "Fuck that's good" he groaned as Marc began a slow but powerful rhythm. Each time making sure he pushed his hard thick cock as far as it would possibly go in, before slowly sliding it back out. Tom laid his head to the side to be more comfortable. He could see that Krzysztof and Mateusz were sat naked on one of the sofas smoking the meth from the pipe. Krzysztof saw him looking and blew him a kiss. "Don't worry, I fuck you more soon" he promised Tom. Marc slowly fucked Tom's hole with powerful muscular strokes. Tom moaned with each long thrust and withdrawal. Marc pulled out of him. "You're going to ride me now baby" he ordered and he undid the clasp to the wrist cuffs and let Tom's hands free. Tom brought his arms round to his front and sat up. He rotated his shoulder and felt the feeling come back into them after having been bound up in one place. "You ok little mate?" asked Mateusz who was still sat on the sofa smoking the meth with Krzysztof and enjoying the show. "Um yeah, I think so" replied Tom but as he tried to get up his legs were weak under him and he stumbled. Krzysztof jumped up from the sofa, the meth pipe still in one hand and caught Tom in the other him before he fell completely. "Easy baby" said the giant man and he cuddled Tom against his strong muscular chest. Tom rested against him, feeling his warmth and also feeling his legs come back to life. Krzysztof had encircled him with his huge arms and he looked down at the boy and Tom looked up. They smiled at each other and Krzysztof put the meth pipe to Tom's lips. The teenager was hooked on the intense high it gave and sucked in a deep lung full. Krzysztof still held the pipe there and so Tom inhaled a few more times whilst clinging to the hunk. Krzysztof passed the pipe back to Mateusz and picked the boy up in his arms. He cuddled him tight. "Now better" he said. Tom looked at him with big eyes. His pupils dilated from the wave of the high now washing over him. They kissed passionately and deeply. After a short time Krzysztof pulled away and moaned deeply. "Baby so horny" he growled then glancing over to the other sofa he smiled and said "Someone wants you" Tom looked over and saw that Marc was sat on the sofa watching them. The huge black man had his legs spread wide. He was still in his full leather gear and he had his massive dick in his hand. He was stroking it slowly. Krzysztof carried Tom over him. "I said you were going to ride me baby" said Marc. Krzysztof lowered the boy down onto the massive black shaft. Tom felt the dick stretch open his sphincter and then slide up inside him. Krzysztof lowered him all the way down so he was sat on Marc's lap facing the dark ripped stud. "That's fucking hot" he heard Mateusz comment and Krzysztof stepped away from the two of them. "Mmmmmm yeah" groaned Marc and he took hold of Tom's hips to make sure every last centimetre of his huge cock was inside the lad. "God that's so deep" moaned Tom, tilting his head back. "Ride it boy" ordered Marc. Tom lifted himself slowly to the top of the black dick and then allowed himself to slide down it to the base. "YEEEEEEAH" growled Marc and as Tom began to repeat the motion Marc thrust his hips upwards causing Tom to moan in pleasure and pain. The meth had hold of the teenager and he placed his hands on Marc's big pecs as he began to bounce harder and faster on the dick. "FUCK BABY" groaned Marc and he gripped Tom's hips tight and pistoned his cock into the boy's tight little cunt. Tom was moaning continually now as the huge shaft tore him into. They were fucking wildly. Tom put his hands around the back of Marc's head and rested his face against his. They looked into each other's eyes. Grunting and moaning, high on the drugs and determined to fuck like animals. "You fucking bitch" whispered Marc into Tom's face as he drove his dick harder and faster into him. He spat into the teenagers mouth. "Fuck me, fuck me hard" begged Tom as he swallowed the spit. Marc began kissing him hard as he gripped his hips tighter and ploughed him. Their tongues frantically exploring the others mouth, their spit mixing together. Marc spat into the boys mouth again and again. Tom loved it and gripped the man's head tighter so that his tongue could be as far into the hunks mouth as it would go. Marc plunged his cock into Tom as hard he could but gripped the boy hard so he stayed impaled on it. Tom leant backwards and moaned loudly. The frantic fucking had suddenly stopped and the contrast of having Marc's huge meat resting all the way inside him sent waves of pleasure from his arse all over his body. He leant back and rested placed his hands on Marc's thick legs to steady himself. "God" he whispered and took deep breaths. Suddenly he felt a pair of hands reach around from behind him and begin to tug his nipples. He moaned and turned his head around. Krzysztof had moved behind him and Tom lent his head back against the man's massive chest and looked up into his face. Krzysztof had seen how much his baby had enjoyed Marc's gob so he spat down into the boy's face. "You like" he said and before getting an answer he bent down and started to snog Tom ferociously. Tom moaned and kissed Krzysztof back, Marc's cock was still throbbing inside his tight hole. Krzysztof pulled away and produced two bottles of poppers. He handed one to Marc who undid the lid and sniffed deeply. "Come here baby" Marc ordered and Tom lent back in towards him. The two of them inhaled the poppers together. Taking long deep sniffs. Tom felt his head get hot and his face flush and let the effects take hold of him. Krzysztof reached around from behind him. Tom had heard him sniffing deeply on the second bottle of poppers but now that bottle was placed under his own nose. Mark held the first bottle up to him allowing Tom to have one bottle under each nostril. The aroma flooded into him and he felt dizzy at the effects. Suddenly next to Marc's huge black dick Tom felt his arse being stretched even more. He realised in a panic that Krzysztof was forcing his own massive dick into the tight boy cunt. Tom went to wriggle away. "Hold him" Krzysztof ordered Marc and with his free hand the black leather hunk gripped Tom around the waist in a vice like hold. "Just breathe deeply" Marc said reassuringly and with the two bottles of poppers under his nose Tom breathed in through his nose then out through his mouth. A continuous circulation of fresh poppers aroma was flooding through him. But even with the help of the poppers relaxing him Tom thought he was going to die. Krzysztof pushed into him slowly. Tom couldn't even cry out. He just squeezed his eyes tight shut and whimpered. All the while the poppers were taking holding of him. The pain was intense but it was mixed with a throbbing pleasurable ache that sent spasms through his arse. Just when he thought he was going to pass out Krzysztof stopped. "I in you now baby" he said. He had pushed his thick cock all the way into the boy and it now rested tight up against Marc's throbbing monster. The two muscle men's meaty spunk filled bollocks rested on each other. Both Marc and Krzysztof took the poppers away. They sniffed them themselves before putting them to one side. "Ready?" asked Krzysztof. Tom had become a bit more accustomed to the two huge cocks inside him. He breathed deeply. The poppers had made him feel like a dirty horny bitch. He wanted this. "Yeah" he said softly. "Tell us baby" said Marc "Tell us how much you want your Daddy's to fuck you yeah?" "I want my Daddy's to fuck me" begged Tom "I want your big Daddy dicks inside me, I want it so much" "Do you want Daddy cum in you?" growled Krzysztof in his ear. "Yeah, I want your cum in me, I want my Daddy's to make me their bitch" "MMMMMmmmm" moaned Krzysztof, turned on by hearing the innocent little boy begging to be treated like a whore. His dick swelled in the lad stretching his hole further still. "You're a lucky boy because you have got three Daddies' here" said Marc and Tom realised that Mateusz had come over to them. He was sniffing from a bottle of poppers and once he had finished he playfully ruffled Tom's hair. "Where do you want your third Daddy to put his dick?" asked Marc. "In my mouth" answered Tom quickly. Marc laughed "What do you say boy? Ask properly?" "Please Daddy" begged Tom "Please feed your big Daddy cock into my mouth" "FUCK" growled Krzysztof "It time for little bitch" and Tom felt him pull his cock out from his hole before smashing it back into him. Tom cried out in pain and Mateusz took the opportunity to stand on the sofa next to where Marc was sitting with the boy on his lap and grab Tom's head in his hands. He shoved his twitching wet cock into the lad's open mouth forcing it right down his throat. "FUCK YEAH" moaned Mateusz and he began to face fuck the little bitch. Tom's own moans and cries were muffled by the massive shaft pistoning in and out of his wet teenage mouth. Krzysztof had his huge hands on Tom's shoulders and was using his might to pull the boy down onto the two huge dicks that were inside him. The muscular builder began to drive upwards into him as hard as he could. Marc held the boy tight against his massive pec muscles. His arms were around the boy's waist and his biceps bulged as he hugged him tight. He began to thrust his hips upwards and he could feel his shaft rubbing against Krzysztof's as they alternatively ploughed in and out of the little cunt's tight pussy hole. "Take those dicks baby" moaned Marc "you take your Daddies big dicks" Krzysztof was wild. He only cared about getting off. The drugs had made it difficult to cum whilst driving him crazy with lust. He rammed his monster meat in and out of the boy as hard as he could. His great thighs smashed mercilessly against the little butt. The rubbing of his dick and smacking of his bollocks against Marc's was loud in the room. The three Daddies' were moaning loudly. Egging each other on as the dicks violated the little teenager. They drove into his arse and his mouth without stopping. Tom was held so firmly he could do nothing except take what his Daddy's were giving to him. The meth and the poppers had driven him crazy with lust and he moaned as the dicks tore into him. He wanted his Daddy's to give it to him so much. "I am going to cum, I am going to cum" cried Mateusz and he pulled his cock from out Tom's throat and began to wank it furiously. He used his other hand to grip the back of Tom's head. Krzysztof and Marc began to pound the boy as hard as they could. Their dicks smashing into him. Tom moaned and cried out his head back and his mouth wide open ready to receive Mateusz spunk. "FUUUUUUUCK" cried Mateusz and his nob head exploded as thick strands of Daddy spunk fired out his slit and coated Tom's mouth. Huge globs of it splashed across the boy's young face and into his hair. "AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH" cried Mateusz as he shoved his cock back into the hot little mouth. He rammed it deep down the boy's throat allowing his spunk to dribble out and into the lad. "GOD" he cried before pulling his dick out and wiping it across Tom's cum coated lips. Krzysztof and Marc were still pounding the tight little pussy with stopping and Tom, the warm cum in his mouth and over his face, moaned loudly. "YEEEEEEES, YEEEEEEES" shouted Marc and Tom felt a great eruption in his guts as Marc drove into him with all his might and unleashed wave after wave of searing hot spunk inside him. "SHIT BITCH" he groaned and spat into Tom's face. His saliva mixed with Mateusz's cum and ran down Tom's chin. Mateusz laughed and Marc moaned in fulfilment. Krzysztof slowly eased off his pounding and Tom felt Marc slide out of him. "Lick his dick" ordered Mateusz as Marc stood up next to him on the sofa leaving Tom on his knees and Krzysztof still behind him with his dick imbedded deep to the hilt. Tom took hold of the huge black rod and put it in his mouth. Mateusz pushed his own dick against Tom's lips and the young lad took hold of it. He cleaned his Daddy's cocks with his tongue making sure to swallow every last drop of their cum. Krzysztof watched from behind him and when he saw that Tom had licked up all the creamy mess he picked up Tom by the hips and stood up being careful to keep his dick firmly plugged in the boy's arse. He carried him over to the sofa table and put him down on it so he was facing the mirror. Tom, on all fours, looked at his own reflection and the sight of the huge muscle stud behind him his giant hands clamped firmly on Tom's hips. "I going to fuck you now" promised Krzysztof and he began to plunge his dick in and out of the tight hole. All the time he fixed his gaze on Tom's in the reflection of the mirror and watched his taut hugely muscular body tense and flex as he pounded the teenager's cunt. Marc and Mateusz came and stood either side of the massive Eastern European builder and ran their hands over his chest and shoulders. Tom took the pounding, moaning and whimpering. He saw that Marc was pulling Krzysztof's nipples driving the huge man on even more. Mateusz had picked up one of the bottles of poppers and undoing the lid he held it under Krzysztof's nose. The hunk sniffed deeply and the poppers drove him wild again. He was a fuck machine. He pounded Tom's hole without any let up. The giant dick smacked into the cunt again and again. Marc's spunk still coated Tom's arse and Krzysztof's dick was lubbed up on it. It allowed the muscle God to drive into Tom without resistance. Tom moaned loudly as he watched the stud behind him high on poppers fuck him like an animal. Krzysztof took another sniff of the poppers then pushed Tom down so he was no longer on all fours and instead was lying on his stomach. The builder climbed onto the sofa table himself and began to pound Tom even harder. He could feel the spunk building and he drove on and on into his baby. "Get the Dildo" said Mateusz and Marc reached back to the sofa and picked up the large plastic object. He handed it to Mateusz who put it against the entrance of Krzysztof's hole. The powerful muscular arse of the builder was pounding up and down as he nailed Tom onto the sofa table. Mateusz pushed the dildo and felt the resistance of Krzysztof's own tight cunt. "YEEEEEEAH" growled the big muscle stud as he felt the dildo enter him and Mateusz pushed it in further. The dildo pushing into his arse sent Krzysztof over the edge and felt his massive bollocks tighten. "FUUUUUCK" he cried and he rammed his cock deep into Tom's cunt as his hot semen poured like a torrent out his nob slit. It flooded Tom's arse with thick Daddy juice. "AHHHHHHHHH" cried Krzysztof as he slowed his thrusting and let his dick empty. He slowly came to a halt and pulled out of the boy. Tom collapsed. "God, God" was all he could mutter over and over. Mateusz took hold of him and rolled him over. He laughed "amazing yeah baby?" "God" was all Tom could say and Mateusz laughed again. Krzysztof strode around to Tom's face. His body was glistening with sweat. He wiped his cock over the boys face. Mateusz still held the dildo that he had used to push into Krzysztof and he put it to the boy's lips. "Lick your Daddy's scent off of it" he told Tom and so the boy opened his lips and began to run his tongue over the plastic. Krzysztof put his own dick into Tom's mouth and the lad tasted his Daddy's arse and his cum at the same time. Suddenly Tom felt a wave of pleasure spreading over him. Marc had knelt down and put Tom's legs over his shoulders. He was deeply licking the cum out of the gaping teenager's arse whilst wanking his cock hard. "MMMMMMMM" moaned Tom over the mouthful of cock and dildo. Suddenly he felt his cock begin to spurt load after load of spunk. "Yeah baby" growled Mateusz as Tom's entire body convulsed as he covered himself in his juice. After every little drop had leaked out Marc stood up and the three men stood around Tom looking down. "Phew, fuck, that was hot. Lets shower" said Marc and led the way from the front room. "I will bring the dildo" said Mateusz. Krzysztof laughed and picked up his little boy. Putting Tom over his shoulder he patted his arse and carried him into the bathroom