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This is a real life experience of mine that's pretty hot (at least to me!) on a number of levels - first it involves a military guy, a favorite type of mine; second it has a great (and ultimately harmless) revenge factor in it; and finally it took place in my early 20s and was my first encounter with doing T. Though my family was 4th generation New York City on both sides, my parents chose to move to the burbs 15 miles north of Manhattan before I was born (so of course, as soon as I went to College at 17, I went to a NYC university and moved myself BACK there!). Sometime around the time I was about 6 or 7, which would be 1968 or 1969, a feud among two groups of kids in my neighborhood evolved from screaming matches and minor mischief to an all-out "war" - of rotting apples no less - hurled with astonishing accuracy one late summer evening. The combatants included my older brother (now a police sergeant) and most of the other kids of the 13 - 16 year old age group. I was just an innocent by-stander who happened to be considered a prime target by the "bullies" my bro and his friends were fighting. Therefore, one of the toughest kids in the neighborhood, who was also an astonishingly good southpaw pitcher on the playing field, clocked me in rapid succession with an apple to the gut, and then one to the head. I went down like I was pole-axed, gasping to breathe as the wind had been knocked out of me... the result of seeing a little kid down and not breathing broke the battle up immediately and the "bullies" took off majorly chagrined. Within just a year or two, the kid who pegged me was shipped off by his parents to the military to get him under control... Fast forward to 1985. I had just finished a summer stock season and had 10 days before I was due at a regional theater in the midwest for a 5 month run. I had a guy subletting my apartment in NYC through 'til the end of that run, so I really couldn't go back to my apartment for the 10 days. My parents were cool with me staying in my old room in the 'burbs, so I was staying at the old homestead. I was horny - having lived in NYC since 1980 when I headed to college, I was used to sex anytime I wanted it - not just bars, but sex clubs, the Rambles in Central Park, the Trucks in the Village, bathhouses, the Y on 62nd Street, you name it. Back in those days even the burbs had gloryholes in almost every department store... so since I wanted sex and not chat with old buddies at the local gay bar, I popped over to the mall to see if there was any action. Sure enough, the T-room at Bamburgers was hopping - too busy to get anything done, really. I found myself cruising a real hottie - blond buzz cut, 'stache, mirrored sunglasses - screamed "MILITARY"! - and he was cruising me right back. With a jerk of his head to the door, he headed out and I followed. Out on the sales floor he says to me, "got anywhere to go?" and I told him no, I was staying with my parents for a few days. He laughs and says that he was in exactly the same situation! Both of us were very frustrated when he says, "you cool with doing it outside, so long as its somewhere no one could see us?". I told him that was great with me, lead the way. He had taken the bus, so we went to my car and I told him to direct me where we were going. Soon enough, we're headed down the main road my 'rents live on and I say "are we close?" and he said we were. I started to laugh and of course he asked why and I said, "because that green house up there is my parents house..." Turns out HIS parents lived right around the corner - I asked where we were going to play and he asked if I knew the path through the woods behind his house that led to an old cemetery. I knew it well and also knew the abandoned graveyard was not patrolled - it was an excellent suggestion on a warm summer night. He said he needed a few things from inside the house and I said I'd go drop the car back at my parents and meet him on the street in front of his house in five minutes. I dropped off the car and pulled my knapsack from the trunk, stuffing a picnic blanket into it, and returned to his parents house. He was waiting for me with a military rucksack, and I followed him along the side of the house into the back yard and on the path through the woods. There was a moon, so we could see, although everything was in stark contrast. I indicated his rucksack as we walked. "Military?" I asked. "Yep, army helicopter pilot on leave," was the response. "Damn hot" I told him. "You're pretty damn hot yourself, man" was his response. "You grew up to be real eye candy." I stopped walking for a second. "Wait a minute. Do I know you?" He started to chuckle, "I'm afraid you do, but you might not realize its me. I think I've owed you an apology for about 15 years...". And that was when I started to laugh along with him. "See," he said. "You do remember." "Kinda' hard to forget - you pitch a mean fastball..." "I pitch a mean fuck too, but I think I kind of owe it to you to let you start this thing on top..." "Damn straight, man." "Nothin' straight about it...". We both laughed. "So you're... John, right?" I said. "Yep," he said, "and if I recall, so are you?" I nodded as we both continued to chuckle. We came out of the woods at that point and came into the rear portion of the old cemetery. The land was cleared of trees but only a few tombstones were scattered around here and there - the main portion of the graveyard was up a 20 foot slope on the other side of the field. There were hundreds of monuments and tombstones and even a couple of crypts up there. We found a flat likely spot away from the path and screened by a few stones. I threw down the picnic blanket. I let him know that I had poppers and KY in my kit as we sat down. "Cool" he said, and pulled something out of his rucksack. It was a pipe made out of glass, and although I'd never seen one like it, it was not a pot pipe nor a crackpipe. He put something that looked like a big piece of road salt into it and heated it up from underneath with a lighter. "What is that?" I asked. "You not cool with getting high?" he replied. "No problem, I've done a bunch of different things, but what is that?" It being the '80s and having been a club kid all through university, I'd done pot, which bored me; and ecstasy, which made me throw up; and coke, which could be fun during sex, but damn expensive, and faded too fast. I wasn't interested in PCP or anything that would make me hallucinate, and crack was something I was leery of. He assured me it wasn't crack, it was crystal and after taking a big hit himself he leaned over and shotgunned it to me. The vapor was much smoother than any weed I'd ever had (I wasn't then and never have been a cigarette smoker) and it was easy enough to inhale from him. After I exhaled, he held the pipe up to my lips with the lighter underneath and told me to draw slow and steady. I did, amazingly not coughing like I would with 420, and after a few moments, exhaled a pretty big cloud of white vapor. "Excellent," he said. "Now take another big hit and shotgun it back to me." I did so, and the next few minutes were spent shotgunning hits back and forth and making out. It only took a little while for me to feel an effect and I thought it was awesome. "Fuck!" I said. "I thought I was horny before, this stuff has me ready to tear your clothes to shreds!" "Then let's get naked" he replied. We both started ripping our clothes off and tossing them aside - we were screened enough, and I was getting high enough that being totally naked where someone just might see us didn't concern me in the least. Turns out he had a great body (no surprise) with awesome pecs, with the right amount of blond fur all over. He was about two inches shorter than me, so about 5'10" but with that muscled chest he was a bit broader than my ripped but trimmer dancer frame and he outweighed me by probably 15 pounds. Our cocks were basically a match - average in length, but both fatter than normal and circumsized, though his ballsac hung down a LOT lower than mine did - I envied him that! Despite the tina, we were both sporting hardons. We did a few more puffs on the pipe while feeling each other up, then fell down into a 69, both of us sucking cock like our lives depended on it. I remember that cock being so amazing to suck and this went on for quite sometime, but I kept being distracted by little glimpses of paradise beyond his lowhangers. I came up for air... "Damn, I gotta get my tongue in your hole man...". "Yeah, baby," he replied. "Let's take another hit, then get your face in my ass and get it ready for your cock." Out came the lighter, white vapor curled, we puffed and shotgunned a few times and then he lay down on his back and lifted those legs. I pulled my poppers out of my bag. This was the real stuff in those days - amyl - and handed him the bottle. He took a big huff and passed them to me, and I took a huge huff as well. I got the top back on and slipped the bottle back in his hand just as they hit me and I went animal. I slid my knees on either side of him, pulled his legs way up and dove face first into that hairy hole. I was so intent on eating that hot manhole for all I was worth that I felt like I was shoving my tongue and half my head up his channel. He was nearly apoplectic with horniness as he thrashed and moaned under me, muttering "eat me man, eat me..." between moans for at least 15 minutes. Finally, I heard him huff the poppers and he said "Do it now man. FUCK ME!" I lowered his legs to my shoulders and dripped saliva onto my cock. No way I was stopping to find the KY now! He held the poppers under my nose while I did a hit, then returned the bottle to his nose while I slowly but steadily pressed into that butch butthole. Heaven. Between the poppers, the crystal, the fact that he was a hot military dude it was already one of my hottest fucks to date. That's when he pulled the final card. "Do me man! Fuck that hole. Punish me for being the fucked up bully I was to you. Take it out on my hole man - punish me good and make me your bitch tonight." THAT sent me into maniac mode. I literally roared (probably loud enough for some houses back in the neighborhood to hear if their windows were open) and WAILED on his hole. I fucked him missionary, I fucked him doggie, I pulled him onto my lap and made him ride me, then stood us up with his legs around my back and fucked him standing - which if I'd thought about it made us visible to anyone who happened to be cutting through the woods. We wound up back on the ground face to face when I finally blasted him full of cum, an orgasm that in my enhanced state felt like none I'd ever had before. "Now that was a grudge fuck for the ages, man. Way to go!" I remember him saying. "Let's puff up and then its my turn... you'll be amazed at the stamina this shit gives you." He put more rocks in the pipe and we puffed and made out and shotgunned and puffed. Then he had me stand up. "Show me that dancer butt you're going to give me." I turned around and heard him huffing poppers behind me then he grabbed my ass from his kneeling position and dove face into my crack. Locking my knees, I bent forward at the waist, and moaned as that tongue hit my hungry hole. I picked up the poppers and took two hits, closed the bottle then reached back and pulled my cheeks open further to allow his tongue better access. Then utilized my dancer's flexibility by wrapping my hands around my lower legs, sticking my head between my legs and licking and slurping on his balls and the tip of his cock. That set him off and he pulled away from my hole and hissed, "on your back, on your back, gotta fuck this ass...". Happy to oblige, I got on my back, spread and lifted my legs and smiled. He handed me the poppers, I hit them as he was spitting on his cock, and handed him back the bottle. His hard tool brushed my pucker as he took his hit and when the euphoria hit me I practically pulled him into me. No KY for me either, and I didn't seem to need it either (which was unusual for me, who topped way more than bottomed). His cock felt amazing, I'd never taken a cock so quickly, so easily and so comfortably before... the stuff in that pipe was freakin' awesome! He threw me an excellent fuck - as promised - and like I did with him, he changed our position a number of times. He got me back onto my back on the ground and skitched around to pull out the pipe and lighter and we traded hits with his cock still in me. When he put the equipment down he wrapped my legs over his back and leaned in and drove his tongue into my mouth, deeply frenching while he ground his cock in deep, slow, insistent circles in my willing hole and after a few minutes of this mind-blowing screwing, blew his wad into my butt and collapsed onto my chest laughing. When his cock deflated a bit and slipped out of me, he rolled over and got out the stuff to reload his pipe. It was obvious that neither of us was remotely close to being finished with this play session, just like he warned me. We puffed some more and then he smirked at me, "so both our slut holes are full of manjuice just waiting to be licked out man... up for it?". Hell yes I was! We each took a hit of poppers and threw ourselves into a violent anal 69 driving our tongues as far into each other's hairy hole in order to find the nectar there. We were both insane with lust, and loving every minute. We went on for a few more hours, fucking, sucking, rimming, 69ing and each dropped another load or two in the other's willing hole when we realized we probably should draw this to a close. It had to be around 3AM. We packed up and started walking back through the woods. As we walked I thanked him for bringing the pipe and told him I thought it was incredible. "That it is," he replied. "But I gotta tell ya' there's a bit of a downside. You probably won't be able to sleep tonight, but you should lie down and relax anyway... and you'll likely still be horny as hell in the morning. What's your day like tomorrow anyway?" I told him it was totally free and he smiled. "Excellent. I think I know a way we can continue this later... give me your parents number" (Remember, this was before cellphones). He turned aside to go into his house and promised to call me around 11AM. I got home and tiptoed up to my old room, where I basically lay on the bed tweaking my nips, jerking my cock or fingering my hole. It all felt just fine. Just after 11 he called and said he'd "figured it out" and to pick him up at noon at his parents. We drove back to the mall and he had me head to the area where the buses came in. A few minutes later, a bus pulled up and among those getting out was another military looking guy who I was told was coming with us, and that we had a room waiting at the Holiday Inn around the corner. His friend got in the car and introductions were made, and we laughed over us being, John, John and Sean. Sean was a square-jawed soldier, african-american taller than either of us but slimmer in build. While Sean and I stayed in the car around the corner from the office, John went into get keys. He came around the building and signaled us the room number. We waited for him to walk to it and open the door, then I parked and we went over to the room. I pulled my trusty knapsack with me and both of the guys had their rucksacks. Once in the room, John explained that Sean was also on leave, was a fuck buddy of his (though very carefully for both, as they were in active service) and that when Sean was home on leave, he was the one that could supply John, and now us, with those magic crystals. Sean had a water pipe with him which he loaded up and this was even smoother than the small straight pipe John and I used the night before. We puffed and puffed and shared smoke and the clothes came off... Sean proved to have another toned military body, and was pretty much hairless except pubes, eyebrows and head. His ass was beautiful and his cock was long and thin, definitely longer than either John's or mine. We got higher and then got to business, Sean's cock and ass proved as tasty as they looked, and what followed was an awesome three way where each one of us was fucked by each of the others, rimmed and sucked by each of the others, filled with cum by each of the others, and generally had an awesome chem-filled fuckapalooza. Though I had DP'd before as a top, and did so for both of these guys too, I had never had two cocks up MY butt at the same time... but after Sean pushed a few crystals up mine and I huffed on the poppers, I soon was sitting on two soldier's rifles at the same time... freakin' amazing! I was seriously glad that an older buddy had taught me how to be a good fisting top when I was 19 because at one point I had the two soldiers in front of me, on their knees side by side, while I had my whole hand and wrist in each manhole. It was truly awesome. I had done threeways before this in my young life, but none this hot. We played until Sunday morning, when I need to get home and they needed to get ready to finish their leave. Never did get to see either of them again, but DAMN, what a hot weekend, and what a great way to get back at a bully!

Another Real Experience (x 2!) - the Porn Star and the Trucker I was watching a Classic Pre-Condom Gay Porn Vid this evening and it brought back two very hot (and very different) experiences. The vid was 1986′s “Oversized Load” about the sexual exploits of some young truckers - and it brought back BOTH the many times I played with one of its’ stars, Scott O’Hara, AND the first time I partied with a trucker in his rig. For those who never saw any of Scott O’Hara’s movies (”Hung and Horny”, “Stick Shift”, “The Other Side of Aspen 2″ and especially “Head Over Heels”) he was a blond cross between an All American Boy type and a Midwestern Farm Boy in looks during the height of his career, was given the label “Biggest Dick in San Francisco” for his very large (and gorgeous) endowment, and his ability to blow himself… which he did frequently in films. He was born a year before me in 1961 and died from AIDS related complications in 1998. I knew him in the 1990s when no studio would hire him anymore because of his status, and he had reinvented himself as an author, publisher and activist - he was also by this time sporting a skin-head ACTUP queer look and was the first person I knew to have any tatoo related to his illness applied to his body. I even wound up writing a number of articles for his magazine “STEAM” which was an unapologetic paen to cruising, recreational and anonymous sex at a time when saying such things aloud invited VERY public scorn and condemnation. I was introduced to him by the photographer I was frequently doing nude shoots for (see the black & whites I posted of myself some months back). Though now in my thirties, I still sported a short blond somewhat military cut (suitable for playing parts like Lt. Cable in “South Pacific”) and just like it used to happen to the hot stud I was about to meet, my clean cut look made many of the pigs “in the scene” underestimate my kink/pig side. Hell, I’d been going to NYC’s leather bars since I was 18! But if you didn’t know me… Anyway, sure enough, the first of the photographer’s parties he invited me to I met with that reaction until the guests learned better… including Mr. O”Hara. I had to go over some details for an upcoming shoot with the host that slowed down my stripping compared to the other guys - there was now a room full of (remember the time period, mid-90s) lean, vascular, shaved guys with either buzz cuts or shaved head and lots of piercings, while a guy (me) who looked like an Army Captain or Police Sergeant was still mostly dressed. I thought the guy who was introduced to me as “Scott” was the hottest of a room full of hotness, and then he turned and I saw the “HIV+” tattoo and growled “fuck yeah”… Scott turned to me with a look of surprise and a smile and said “Man, lookin’ at you I would have expected you to zip up and head out the door, not have THAT reaction!’ I responded that I was full of surprises as my clothes came off revealing my full leather harness, metal cockrings and chrome and leather arm bands. “Told you guys he’d more than fit in,” I heard my host and photographer say. As things were getting comfortable and we were progressing to the sex, Scott stayed by me surreptiously doing some lines and giving me some - probably about ¾ of the guys were doing enhancements, but not everyone was down with it, so the rule was keep it low-key. Considering the way I was reacting, it was probably NOT the coke I thought it was at first (tina was not all that regular at that time - I’d first had it with that pilot back in the 80s - “Karmic Chemfuck” - and only one other time up until this point). There was also a bit of K around and good poppers and Max Impact. Scott was really curious why I wasn’t scared of his tatoo… and I quietly told him I tested positive back in early 1985, and I kept it very quiet for my performing career’s sake - he sure related to that! At that point, even my host didn’t know I was poz - just my partner (who, now after 26 years together is STILL negative) and my doctor. Scott was very turned and and sticking another line of K my way, he looked me in the eye and said “Fuck yes. So you and I can bareback each other tonight - its the only way a man should fuck or be fucked!” Whoa! Bareback… now when sex started for me, everything was bareback (the term itself didn’t even exist) but in order to keep up my slut lifestyle in the 90s, a condom was mandatory and though I hated them I was good at using them as a top… as a bottom they really slowed me down as I always get an allergic reaction to condom style latex. I had thought I’d never feel that ecstasy again, but this absolute satyr of a man caught me at just the right level of “enhancement” that reservations I would normally have had were tempered by his very logical argument and his very hot cock and attitude and his very good party favors. We agreed. The lights in the photography studio went to psychedelic, trance music played and the group went at it. My tongue found other tongues, hot cocks - many with PA’s and some of the hottest manholes I’d encountered with my mouth in a while. There were about 8 of us in total (small compared to some groups) but all hot and all piggy. While we both played with every other guy there, Scott and I also spent a bit of extra time with each other - we dove into an anal 69 seemingly trying to get our whole heads up each others hot chute. We pulled off into a hot kiss and I felt him press something up into my hole - it burned a bit as he put something in my hand and said “here, do me”. I pressed the rock salt like stuff into his hole and we stopped to do another line of it and a hit of poppers and he rolled back onto a waist height wooden block and whispered “slide that poison stick in the poison hole”. It was so wrong, but so right. My cock slipped in easily and I was ballistic with pleasure. As I fucked him and rolled him further onto the block, he smirked at me and took his own cockhead into his mouth, lewdly tonguing it. THAT’s when it finally hit me. I subtly hissed down to him “holy fucking shit - SCOTT is it? You’re Scott O’Hara, I fucking love your movies.” He seemed really pleased at that and after a few more minutes of me pounding his manhole, he called out “switch!”. A quick couple of glugs of fluids, and another something pressed into my butt, making it SCREAM to be filled, and he pushed me back into the position he’d just been in. He gave me a shot of poppers, sprayed some Maximum Impact on someone’s jock that was lying around, shoved it in my mouth and said “here it comes.” JEEEZUS! The first raw cock in my hole in over six years, and it’s that gorgeous giant! It hurt a bit ‘till I stretched around it, but I was so excited and so tweaked, and so relieved to not have latex fucking me that it soon settled in and felt friggin’ amazing. Our host, who knew my play style well glanced over and remarked “I never thought you’d take that monster that easily, if at all!” and then squinting to look closer, realized there was no condom. His eyebrows shot up, but before he could say anything else, he was distracted by a SECOND latex sheathed cock sliding up next to the first in his own hole, and his attention was drawn elsewhere. There were more fucks with the other guys for each of us, both as tops and bottoms (and one other guy who had noticed us also barebacked each of us and let us bareback him). There was also lots more hole-play, some fisting and w/s, a bit of b/d here and there and toy play, and always, lots of rimming of really hot holes. Scott and I had to keep our holes to just us and the one other guy at the end as we’d each blown off up each others fuck chute. I had gone home with a load in my hole and that much joy in years - and oddly, though I played enough times after with my photographer it wasn’t until almost 18 years later that we finally barebacked each other! After that I played with Scott a number of times - a few group scenes, but mostly either as a three-way with our photographer bud (still using condoms on him) or one on one, where he’d get me high and we’d get wonderfully nasty. He hired me to write a number of columns for his “Steam” Magazine between a few more wild fucks. After that night, when I was playing “extracurricularly” I more and more sought out other poz for BB and less and played with those requiring a condom… I’d regained so much physical joy, and if I wasn’t hurting myself or someone else, then there was finally SOME kind of silver lining for this stupid disease (that I’ve now been dealing with for 30 YEARS). Tomorrow, I’ll tell you about the first time I partied with a trucker in his cab! For more about Scott O’Hara: http://likeahornyboy.blogspot.com/2012/06/scott-o-hara-is-too-big.html?zx=5fbde5ac859bcb2

ANOTHER REAL EXPERIENCE – Unsuspected Pnp’ers Who knew they partied? A recent series of posts on Breeding Zone, discussing whether or not your friends are aware of your partying activities got me thinking about the times I discovered someone I knew and would never have expected indulged, was instead well-acquainted with enhanced sex. For 16 years, I've managed to keep my party life from interfering with my two careers or other "normal world" day-to-day activities. Some periods I attend pnp parties once or twice a week, some periods a few times a month, sometimes only once a month. In answer to your question, CERTAIN friends know I party (certainly my husband knows I do, though he does not - our open sexual relationship for the past 27+ years and our opposite work schedules mean I do so only during those times he is working which he is cool with). Only one of my straight friends knows I party, and select gay/bi friends. Usually those are friends I've either met "in the scene" who have crossed over into being actual real-world friends that one could rely on, rather than just pnp-buds (who are fine too, so long as one realizes the limitations and true parameters of that kind of interaction). However, every once in a while I'm surprised to discover someone I never expected is a partier, and I always get a kick out of hooking up in a situation like that. When my husband and I lived in Hell’s Kitchen in the 90s, directly across the air-shaft that sank through the center of our apartment building lived two guys who like us were musical theater performers – these guys were both hot and ripped African-American dancers (my hubby and I are Anglo – and like them I had a muscled dancer bod). It got to the point where we would all do 3 ways and 4 ways together… the catch being that either one or both of them would come to our place, or I would go to theirs by climbing across the airshaft 4 stories up! (My hubby, an opera singer, could not do the same). To be fair, the ventilation shaft was shaped like a hexagon <=> and we crawled across where in the angle where the two windows met. Like us, one of them was really kinky and the other pretty vanilla so no enhancements were ever included. They eventually moved out to LA to do music videos. Then, a few years later, after I had started to pnp a bit more, I bumped into Craig, the kinky one, at a buddy’s afternoon chemparty and finally got to play with him in a supercharged way – we did so several times during the time he was back in New York for a show – it was great to finally fuck that beautiful hot ass bareback and get fucked by his fat black cock the same way, along with some major hole play between us. There was a hot but conservative couple I knew that for years were very vocally anti-party - we'd played together, but it took longer for me to get to their place then the un-enhanced sex would actually take, and so I didn't go out often. Then one day out of the blue they had a total switch and my numerous sessions with them since have been very hoT - I've written about them in my true experiences blog on this site. The same for an actor/director I knew only professionally - we'd starred in two productions together and he'd directed me in a third... what a Christmas Present it was when this guy - a married guy with kids who had a TV series in the 80s and is in a ton of movies we've all seen - got me alone at a rehearsal for "A Christmas Carol" and told me he was bisexual and a 'mutual friend' had assured him that I could mentor him in the T-fueled gay sex scene which I gladly said I would... this was made even more ironic in that I was playing Bob Crachit and he was playing Ebenezer Scrooge at the time. Imagine if you will seeing Crachit and Scrooge naked, blowing clouds and booty bumping, with Crachit topping and breeding a leather restrained Scrooge and giving him chem piss... yeah we played that up in our first sex session (even used the British accents...). One of our other first sessions took place in his house one evening, in his office/library room while his soon-to-be ex-wife was out – we swapped pipe hits while fucking on his desk and blowing clouds on the family pics on his desk. When they separated, he took an apartment in Upper Manhattan and we pnp’d there frequently. Another surprise was recent and very, very welcome. During the '90s when I lived in Hell's Kitchen, there were a number of regularly scheduled sex parties in NYC. There was one I attended very frequently where the guys running it would not charge me the entrance fee if I would come early and get the sex started (having no inhibitions). One of the event runners, Bill, was one of the hottest guys I'd ever had sex with and we'd frequently save our last encounter of the night for each other when we'd flip-fuck, both of us having spent the rest of evening topping others. While I would do some bottoming on some nights, he never did at all, except for me and one other guy and only at the end of the party, because the other guys in management didn't want his big cock and butch leather reputation to be sullied among the other customers/guests - apparently, they felt, correctly it seems, that the possibility of being fucked by him brought lots of guys back week after week. Bill and I also very naughtily broke the “always use a condom” pledge that was part of the event rules somewhat frequently… however, it was usually so late that there’d be no one to notice who ever would have complained or reported it, and hell, he was one of the event runners! Anyway, these parties were very much NOT chem-friendly so how would I know he was into it? After 12 years without seeing each other, he read one of my "real experience" blogs on Tumblr, and as he said "I knew immediately that had to be you!" and sent a message. Funny, he was afraid I wouldn't remember, or that I'd not be interested - WRONG!! I nearly fell out of my chair trying to respond immediately - it's nice to know that someone you think was one of the most amazing sex partners EVER thinks the same of you! The first time I saw him after those 12 years, I met him in midtown to introduce him to my candyman. After sitting around with a few other guys and blowing clouds with them, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other – and since nothing was going to be happening where we were for at least a few more hours – we found a nearby hotel room, raced over there, got naked, loaded up our pipes and dove all over each other. We both ate hole for what seemed like hours, since we’re both addicted to rimming and we each do it VERY well. It was a very hot, unexpected surprise (we hadn’t planned on playing until the following week) and though it was only a couple of hours, it was just so much fun to really LET GO with this kindred spirit. Just this past weekend, I introduced him to a hot versatile couple I play with sometimes in the Bronx, and it was the first time I saw him slammed (he’s done so very infrequently)… it was amazing to watch him truly relax and just have FUN while the four of us flip fucked and enjoyed each other all around. So we've now partied together - one on one, which is unusual for me - several times now and the sessions have been awesome. We also relate on a number of other levels including having husbands with physical disabilities, and its great to have someone to talk about that with as well - its been double bonus time for both of us!

Last night while I was slutting my ass at my usual hotel and Top #3 with the big cock and the aggression to match was railing me, I happened to catch sight of myself in the nearby mirror. I saw my body positioned in a way that any observer could not mistake for anything other than deeply submissive receptive sexual intercourse. My legs were splayed broadly to the sides, my ass hiked up and cocked at an angle to point my hole upward, my back was arched backward in a crescent, my head flung back along the same curve, and my arms supporting me straight ahead with fists full of bedspread. And of course, a man was fucking me. But that instant of seeing myself “from the outside” made me acutely aware of how I must appear to other Men who see me when I take cock or wait for it ass-up. Even I could look at myself and see something somehow not quite male - something that had been devolved to another purpose so as to be useful to actual Men. This was emphasized when the Top later put his hand on the small of my back to force my torso flat onto the bed so that he could concentrate on drilling my hole. Even though I knew the person in the mirror was obviously me, the mirror made it easier to consider myself more as a sexual object than as a person, and read the Top’s use of me in that context. I’m still not sure how I feel about it all, except that the experience deepened my sense of submission, of worth only as a sexual outlet, and as a person easily controlled by the sensations in his own flesh. In the mirror, my body betrayed to anyone watching exactly what that fucking felt like for me - and even made me see it in a more intimate, revealing way. No wonder an audience tends to gather when my bathhouse room door is left open when I’m being fucked...