Leaderboard

A Couple in the Bar My boy and I were taking a much-needed vacation to reconnect and have some down time. We’d both been traveling a lot for work and hooking up with other guys, nearly always bareback. He would send me texts that his top hookup would take of my boy’s hands on his ass, cheeks spread wide, and his hole oozing fresh cum. It always boned me up and then I’d likely log onto one of the apps and find a guy to come over to my hotel and take my load. It was risky, but super hot. We’d talked about starting up PrEP again, which we’d both been on before we started seeing each other, but somehow never got around to it. So, we went to a seedy gay bar in a midwestern town and saw a handful of hot guys. I spotted to very sexy men, one older, one younger but clearly a couple, a beefy guy with a shaved head and a slightly-wasted look. His boyfriend was a scrawny twinky guy, also with a buzzed head. After a few beers, I went to the bathroom to take a piss in the trough. The daddy guy followed me and stood right next to me. He made grunting oink noises and I saw him pull out his meaty cock with a huge gauge prince albert piercing. He took a piss while looking at me and oinked knowing I was drooling over his cock. He told me he’d see me around and left the bathroom. When I got back to our spot at the bar, the younger guy was chatting up my boy while the daddy was ordering a round of beers. I got back to them and the daddy gave me a bottle. My boy excused himself to the bathroom and the younger guy followed, winking at the daddy. Of course, they were in the bathroom a little too long and the daddy invited us back to their place for the night. I knew the reason for our vacation was to reconnect, but this was too hot of an opportunity to pass up. I gulped my beer down and headed to the bathroom to find my boy bending over the trough as the younger guy was on his knees eating my boy’s hole. I cleared my throat and my boy sheepishly looked up at me. I told them we were headed back to daddy’s place and my boy pulled his jeans up and tucked his leaking hard cock into them. We made a quick exit as daddy paid the bar tab. Thankfully, they lived right around the corner, and we walked there, with the daddy’s hands down the back of my pants and the younger guy clearly fingering my boy’s spit-lubed hole. They tore our clothes off of us as soon as we were in their small run-down apartment. My boy and I were shoved down on the bed on our backs, and the guys climbed on top of us and we made out hardcore. I went down on the younger guy while my boy blew the daddy. I rarely bottom, but I knew I wanted that thick cock and prince albert inside me, and I thought it would be hot to see my boy take it too. My boy was lapping at daddy’s balls and said, ‘these seem really full. You good for a couple of loads?’ Daddy just oinked in reply. The younger guy and I made out on our knees as my boy sucked my cock. I leaned forward to spread his ass open and guided that raw daddy dick into his hole. I love that moment of delivering a new raw cock inside him. The younger guy got in front of my boy’s mouth and shoved his dick in. He had be get behind him and spit on his hand, lubing up his ass. My dick plopped right inside him. It was clear that regularly taking daddy’s dick had really loosened him up. As we fuck each other’s boys, their faces were next to each other and they started making out, lunging forward as they took our cocks. Daddy started cursing and really pounding my boy. I knew he was close to losing his first load. Sure enough, he started to cum inside my boy, without slowing down or even offering to pull out. My boy had just taken this daddy load without even knowing his name. Daddy caught his breath and asked me if I was close. I shook my head no. ‘He’s too loose for you, right?’ I nodded, almost embarrassed. But the daddy grinned knowing it was his girth that had ruined his boy’s hole. Daddy had me lay down on my back and his boy mounted my dick facing me. The boy bent forward as daddy slapped his cummy cock on his boy’s ass. I heard a camera sound as my boy snapped a photo of our cocks going into the boy's ass. I felt that cool metal plop inside his boy’s hole alongside mine. The boy groaned as his hole was stretched to the limits. My boy knelt down, fingering his cummy ass and ate daddy’s hole as we fucked away. I was close to cumming, and I knew I wasn’t finished, so I let my cock plop out of the boy’s ass. I crawled out from under them and made out with my boy, fingering the goo dripping down his thigh. I needed a piss and offered it to anyone who wanted it, but they all shook their heads ‘no’ so I headed to the bathroom as my boy got on his knees next to the boy and invited daddy to go back and forth between their holes. Seeing those guys fuck made it tough to walk away, and difficult to piss with a full hard-on. I heard my boy groan as daddy entered him. As I finally went down enough to piss, I noticed two bottles of B******* on the counter, and I knew it instantly to be one of those newly approved one-a-day HIV meds. These guys were POZ, but medicated. I noted there were two names on them, Brian and Dan, but didn’t have a clue which man was which, only that they were both POZ and I wanted to take their cum. When I got back to the bedroom, they had changed positions. My boy was on his back holding his legs up. The boy was pounding his ass, about to breed him with his POZ cum. I laid down next to him and pulled my legs up. He looked over at me and smiled, blissed out and full of raw stranger cock. ‘Babe,’ I said. ‘They’re POZ.’ He had a momentary look of shock as the daddy oinked again and his boy announced, ‘I’m cumming! Breeding you good!’ Daddy nodded as he pressed forward and that cool metal ring teased my ass. My boy kissed me hard as daddy slipped inside my tight hole with nothing to lube me up but his leaking precum and our boys’ ass juices. Daddy didn’t stop until he was balls deep inside me, then he hammered away. I was lucky he was close to cumming or he really would have ruined my hole. The boy knelt beside daddy and slid his finger into my hole alongside that thick raw cock stretching me out as much as I’ve ever been. Daddy looked straight into my eyes and nodded, ‘Gonna breed you, slut, just like I bred your boy. Fuck yeah!’ With that, he picked up his speed and jackhammered my ass. I felt a soothing wetness and warmth as his cum seeped into my guts. He collapsed on top of me. Feeling his weight and furry chest grind into me was amazing. He slowly got softer until my tightness pushed him out of me. I went to the bathroom to clean up and daddy followed me saying he liked to watch his prey cleaning up to ensure they didn’t try to push out his seed. I didn’t, and he pointed to the meds on the counter. I said it was hot taking POZ cock even if it was medicated. He looked a little confused and then picked up one of the bottles. He took the cap off to show that the foil liner was in place, unopened. He then handed me the bottle and pointed to the date. I noted it was dated last year. He told me his boy convinced him to start treatment after infecting him… and that he’d convinced his boy to stay off them, just as he had. I got lightheaded as I realized that my and my boy had just taken unmedicated loads. I steadied myself and saw my boy in the doorway making out with daddy and the younger guy. He smiled at me and reached out to me, pulling me into the four-way kiss. My boy led us both back to the bed side by side and laid down on his belly, ass up, encouraging me to do the same. Daddy and his boy bred me and my boy at least two more times that night. We got daddy’s cell and promised to take their seed anytime they wanted to share it.

Decided that I needed to get back to exercising when I remembered that a friend lived near the 40 mile or so walking/bike trail called The Silver Comet. My friend was busy but lent me his bike. It was such a great sunny day that I headed off on his bike with attached water bottle. As we have been having a heatwave here in Atlanta, and since school was back in session, the trail was virtually empty. A very people but nobody interesting until this very athletic guy wearing skintight cycling gear rode up to where I was and said hello.He promptly passed me by and I did not think about it again til I saw him stopped ahead of me at an abandoned railroad crossing. I checked to see if he was ok, and thats when I could see his hardon and his smiling toward me. He then took his bike off trail and I followed him with my bike til we were deep on the woods. He kept checking behind to make sure I was following him til he stopped.I went over to where he was standing and he told me to bend over ,of which he pulled my shorts down and started fingering my hole. As I moaned, he told me to shut up, spit on fingers, and then my furry ass, and quickly inserted his cock pounding me hard and deep with one hand around my waist and another over my mouth as I started to scream til he unloaded what felt like tons of cum in my ass. As I pulled up my shorts, he gave a quick smile, mounted his bike and pedalled away. I felt that was a good start to exercise so I turned around and headed back to my friends house to get my car and drive home.

I was feeling the need for some play on Sunday and, looking around on the apps, found an "I'm interested" message from a guy whose profile I'd looked at a few times before. A bi guy, shorter than me, younger than me, solid and strong looking with a thick, rigidly hard looking dick. After some back and forth on the app we agreed to get together at his place and switched to texting. I asked if he was okay with sharing face pics and he agreed. It turns out he's as cute as hell with a face full of scruff and a big sexy smile. I was keen before, but now I'm feeling even more keen. I get the directions and make the 25 minute trip to his place, walking up the few flights of stairs to the door. As I walk down the short corridor his door opens and I'm ushered in by the same handsome man I saw in his picture. After hellos and closing the door behind me we stand close and our hands are touching and exploring each others arms, chest, nipples, back, ass, with soft smiles blooming on our faces. I can feel his dick already very hard as he presses his hips into mine. Not the sometimes awkward and slightly nervous dance this time. We wander into the bedroom in his very clean and tidy home and, still standing, touch some more, kissing slowly and discovering he's a very good kisser. Breaking from our kiss with the big smiles that come with really good kissing we remove a few layers and get comfortable. I strip down to t-shirt and briefs, and he to his sport trunks. We climb onto his bed and make out, feeling something flowing back and forth between us. There's a sweet shyness to him that is very sexy on that strong and solid frame. I roll from my side to hover over him and kiss his soft wet lips before I lick and tease his nipples while my fingers tickle his balls and taint through his trunks. The sounds he's making tell me I'm on the right track. I move from nipple to nipple, licking, nibbling, sucking, while my fingers find the spongey inner shaft of his cock lying under his taint and stroke it firmly back and forth. I think its at this point he flips me on my back and hovers over me, kissing briefly before going after my nipple through my shirt. He says it's time we get everything off and agreeing I squirm out of my shirt and briefs, tossing them over the long horizon of the bed. Now that we're both naked he kneels, lifting and parting my legs, letting his hard and now wet-tipped cock drag up along the crack of my ass as he leans over me to suck and bite my nipples making me squirm slowly under him. I tell him that he can handle me as firmly as he likes, I like hard nipple play and being manhandled. He obliges and my dick chubs a little in response while my cunt is feeling more and more in need. He moves to my dick and starts to suck it, pausing to ask if it's okay. I tell him yes, of course, but I'm totally focused on my ass-hunger. As if reading my mind, his hands slide to my thighs and he flexes me, trailing his tongue into my furry crack and onto my hole. He wets his tongue and licks my hole until all the outer nerves are awake, then he presses my thighs to flex me open and pushes his firm tongue inside me. I make a long groaning sigh and relax to give him more access. He eats my hole until it starts to relax and, feeling the give he pushes his tongue in further and as he pulls out, leaves a pool of his saliva in its place. Straightening, he puts the head of his cock into that wet pool and holding my legs presses forward slightly so that I feel his knob slowly slide inside me. At this point I tell him I'm going to need lube because, well, most every time I have. He asks how it feels, and when I say good he rocks just a little in me, letting me get used to the sensation. Realizing it feels fine, I tell him to keep going. He keeps up the very gentle rocking in me and I feel his knob throb, harden and pull up on the muscle of my hole drawing a chest deep sound of satisfaction from me. He does this a few more times and flexes forward a little more, easily gliding in a few more inches. Rocking a couple of inches back and forth in me for a few seconds he slides all the way into me with the thick root of his cock stretching out my hole for the first time. My head goes back and a long deep "Ahhhhh" punches out as his cock seats in me fully. This is when he tells me he precums a great deal - easy penetration mystery solved. He doesn't know about my serious precum kink, so I have a big grin on my face when I tell him how much I love that. I suddenly realize all the slow rocking was him milking his precum into me to lube up my cunt and my smile gets even bigger. He moves his balls-deep cock around inside my cunt, getting me used to the thickness of it stretching me in different directions. Looking up at his scruffy face with my legs held wide by his strong arms, he begins to fuck into me with a slowly lengthening stroke. After a few minutes it becomes clear he knows his business, first fucking me slowly but firmly to the root, then building up to a good hard "slap" fuck that shakes my whole body and has me instinctively flexing my ass up onto his dick. I can't help how I'm moaning on his cock and watching his face as everything he's feeling plays across it. Every now and then as we fuck his shy face gives way to an intensely determined primal expression, a confident not-quite-sneering smile. This is the first time he tells me how incredible it feels to be inside me. It's been just over a month since he had sex, but I'm still pleased by how pleased he is. I return the favor by telling him how great it feels with his cock inside me, fucking me. He slows down his pace admitting he can cum several times but he really doesn't want to as he's enjoying the feeling of my ass snugly massaging his cock. I try using my cunt muscles to grip and stroke him and he sighs thrusting into me again. He fucks me soundly for over an hour, the changing pace and intensity feels so good, slow, firm, shallow, fast, hard, deep, and I'm incredibly turned on and ready to receive his load. During this time he flips me from missionary onto my sides with my body folded like a deck chair and snugly tucked between his legs as he leans in and finds a new deep part of my cunt to fuck and paint with his precum. I twist to keep eye contact as he fucks me, at first finding the change in position overwhelming with new sensation in my cunt until, after a few moments, I feel myself center as I focus just on his cock. He moans and I feel freshly awash with his precum. He quickly flips me back into missionary and leans over me as he presses all the way inside and begins to fuck me getting deeper and harder as he goes. Looking at his face I can see the shy guy is gone, he's 100% the primal horny ass-fucker I glimpsed earlier and I'm definitely about to get bred. I'm so in need of his seed in my cunt after more that an hour of intense fucking that all I can do is half-sob "Please" with each thrust as his whole body tightens and pounds into me. Then I feel his already rigid cock thicken and harden in me as his face is transformed and he pumps his seed down into my thirsty cunt. As he finishes cumming, he keeps moving inside my now well-bred cunt, just a little back and forth, feeling the slickness of his seed inside me. He didn't go soft, but now I feel him hardening up inside me and I know he's definitely good for longer. He starts fucking me again, clearly getting off on the feel of his seed in my cunt and working it into every part of me. Leaning back, he talks about how much he enjoys watching his cock penetrating my now very juicy hole, telling me how hot and sexy it is. Knowing he's looking, I relax my hole a little, holding it slightly open and he sees his cum peek out. He fucked into the slightly looser hole and groaned how much he loved that wet feeling and the sound his cock makes fucking me filled with his cum. Over the next hour he fucks me in missionary, on my left and right sides, on my stomach and breeds me in every position. At one stage he tells me he's got no more cum left in him and, hearing a challenge, I begin milking him with my cum-filled hole and managed to make him cum three more times. In the end we fucked for a little over two hours and he bred me nine times. We chatted as we cleaned up and I got ready to go. As we were kissing and hugging goodbye, I told him how much I loved having his cum in me and that I'd take good care of it for him. His still half-hard cock became rigid in a few seconds and he admitted that he really likes having his cum inside a man and for him to keep it there inside him. The temptation to fuck just one more time was strong, but we both had things to get done. I think there is plenty of kink potential on top of some incredible fucking action to be had in the future. Here's hoping he's up for a repeat sometime soon. Lifetime loads (well, since March 2019) was 84, now 93.

I just did my first true anon fuck. A guy without a face pic messaged me on BBRT. After just a few messages, I send him my address. He wants the room dark, me face down/ass up. I hear him come in the door and walk into my bedroom. He pushed his dick in my hole and fucked me for a while. Once he came in my ass, he put his clothes back on and left. I never got a look at him. Really hot

I have one "straight" (well he is married) top who fucks me every month or so and he is the roughest top I have ever had. He is verbal, he punches me , slaps me that hard I have often been bruised, chokes me if I make a pleasured sound, spits in my face. There has never been a tactile moment between us in the four years he has been using me - just making me gag on his cock and he fucks like an animal. Very little conversation unless it is to humiliate and abuse me. But I have never not been available when he wants to come over, as he is always good for a 20 minute pounding and he then drags me in the bathroom and pissed on me. I wish he would come over more often, but he runs the show and he probably has other sub bottoms he uses. That is one reason I never refuse him as he is pig arrogant and I don't think he would take a knockback well and probably move onto the next hole.

Late afternoon yesterday. Text message from a fuck bud. He was horny and was I available? I have not seen him in a while....trying to be attentive to my partner...but the thought of my fuck buds big black poz cock in my ass was too good to say no. Told him I would be there in 10 minutes. We stripped as soon as I arrived and headed to his bedroom. He is the type that all I need to do is kiss him and pinch his nipples and he is rock hard. Lay on my back on his bed and he slides in balls deep. Holds it there while it grows even longer and goes in deeper. I beg him to fuck me and to recharge my ass with his poz seed. I continue to play with his nipples. We kiss deeply and wet while he breeds my ass with his hard poz black cock. Soon it grows even harder. I know what is cumming. He fills me and collapses on my chest. We cuddle and kiss with his cock still in me for 10 minutes. I touch his nipples and he immediately gets hard again and gives me load two. Hope to see him again this weekend.

Part 4 - Jacob The Designer Luckily this morning was only partially naked just wearing shorts, strangely though I didn't feel so awkward or embarrassed today, it was like I had new found confidence. As I came round the screen I caught a side on glimpse of the man, he looked to be in his 30's, fairly tall quite muscular build under his perfectly fitted suit and groomed to perfection, his black hair styled to suit his face and even his beard was sexy. At first he paid no attention to me but engaging with Patricia over getting a new model for his male underwear range. Patricia was trying to juggle him and me and she excused herself coming over to assist as the shorts were not sitting right. Eddie and the man said hello and kissed each other on the cheeks. Then our eyes met across the studio as I took the full sight of him in, he was drop dead gorgeous and exuded masculinity and sexual appeal. I must have blushed as he started walking over towards me still talking to Patricia but his eyes were now focused on me, it felt like he was sexing every part of me the way he looked me over carefully and so obviously. "Jacob I will see what I can do but you need to reign in your expectations" Patricia said getting annoyed. His eyes still on me "That simply won't do" he paused looking at me "I want him" he said making her turnaround. Patricia looked at me "No he is not right for your brand, to inexperienced" she said moving my arm. Jacob smiled at me "I want him so make it happen" he didn't wait for an answer, he turned and walked out. Eddie laughed from the other side of the room "You can't win Patty". "You are friends with him so tell him he can't have him" she replied turning to look at Eddie. Eddie snapped a picture of Patricia "No can do, he has made up his mind. Anyway a trial won't hurt" he said. Patricia huffed "Designers Tom, they just want everything and mostly never happy with what they get". "She says the same about me Tom" Eddie said walking over. "Your just difficult Eddie, good thing your good at your job" she said trying to stifle her laugh. "Don't pick on Eddie he is the perfect gentleman" I replied and Eddie coughed hiding his laugh. Patricia looked at me "Oh that is great now models are sticking up for Eddie" she shook her head "what ever next...". I was struck since it was the first time she actually referred to me as a model. Enter Jacob the designer, he would be the second most influential and very instrumental person in my life after Brad. Now don't get me wrong Eddie was instrumental in a different way and one I lied to hold close to my chest. Patricia's phone pinged just as she finished adjust my shorts, she read the message briefly smiling then looked at me. "Well Tom, you have your first rebook for one of the department stores" she said "congratulations". "Eh" I said forgetting my manners "Sorry what does that mean" I asked looking confused. Eddie walked over "More money" he said getting ready to start shooting. Patricia rolled her eyes "It means they like what you did last time and they want you on a formal basis". "More money" Eddie repeated chuckling "That's quick though" he said looking at her. She smiled at me "You have just jumped nearly all my models" she said "well done and thank you Eddie". I didn't know how big a thing that was, mostly models were just provided by Manon and only around 4 of her top models where specifically requested formally and I just got a ticket in to the top 5 models. We worked hard and before I left for lunch and my flight back to Texas Patricia came back to the studio and said I was needed back in LA next Monday for 3 days again. I wasn't sure if I had done something to upset here or if she knew about Eddie and I as she quickly went back to her office. Steve and I went downstairs and across the road to grab a salad and sat outside in the sunshine. "So now I know your gay, how was it with you and Eddie?" Steve asked facing me. I blushed "Incredible, I never expected him to stay with me last night" I replied "Hot body" I continued. "All the years I have worked with him, he has never bedded a model before. You must have something on him" Steve sounded a little jealous. "Please don't let this come between us" I said to Steve "did I upset Patty?" I asked him. Steve chuckled "No, Jacob did that. Apparently he has asked, well demanded you next week" he said. "Yeah, she wasn't that enthused about it" I said "although don't you think he is quite sexy?" I asked. "Oh yes" Steve laughed "he never strays though. And don't worry you and Eddie won't come between us". We returned back to the office and I managed to say good bye to Eddie who was busy and just nodded and winked. On my way to the airport I got a text from him apologising he couldn't say goodbye properly, he also said he hoped that us having sex would not prevent them from being friends first and foremost. It was a side to him I never could have imagined from when I first met him. As usual the midweek flight at 4pm wasn't overly busy, I walked through the boarding gate and hot to the aircraft doors wondering if Mike would be on the flight. As passengers file through to their seats I saw a female attendant, my first thought was how boring the flight was going to be without the eye candy. She checked my boarding pass and pointed me towards the seat, as I said I was getting good at this and managed to get row 7 again on the aisle. I settled down in my seat and looking through the music on my phone deciding what to listen to for 3 hours. "Well good afternoon 7C, nice to see you again" Mike said standing behind my seat. I turned and smiled "Hey, I didn't think you were on here, your not up at the door" I replied sounding stupid. Mike smiled "Training a new girl" he replied looking at her "So is this you going home or to work?" he asked. "Home, just finished work and now I have to catch up of my studying" I replied. "Studying?" he looked surprised learning forward "how old are you?" he asked in shock. I laughed "19, and you?" I asked him as he moved to let a passenger past. "24 but if you tell anyone I will kill you" he laughed patting the headrest of my seat and going to the front. It's those strange things in life that you never understand, seeing Mike on the flight was nice and almost made me feel at home although we didn't really know each other. I watched him going through a long ream of paper then writing something down on it and handing it to the despatcher who had just stepped on board. He then spoke to his trainee who nodded her head and started walking down the plane stopping at my seat. "Good afternoon Mr Miller, we have a seat for you in first class if you would like to follow me" she said. I stood up "Thanks that is very nice of you" I replied following her blushing so hard I thought my face would erupt. "We like to reward our loyal passengers" she said showing me to seat 1F. Okay so it looks like being nice does have some pay off in life. It goes without saying I was extremely well looked after and had a lovely meal, Mike even allowed me a glass of champagne since I was still to young to drink, officially that is. About two hours in to the flight I could see Mike and his trainee finishing service and cleaning up, he brought me a sparkling water over when they were done. "Mr Miller how is your flight" Mike said handing my the drink. Grinning "Perfect, really thank you for this" I said but Mike just waved a hand as if it was nothing. "What do you do in LA if you don't mind me asking?" he asked catching me off guard and unsure what to say incase it was lame. "Oh, you probably think it is stupid but I kind of do modelling" I replied. Mike didn't look surprised "Okay that figures" he replied smiling. I shrugged my shoulder "What figures?" replying looking very confused. Mike chuckled "Come on look at you, your so good looking and fit" he said quietly "What do you model?" he asked. "I will show you" I stood up and got my rucksack and pulled the folder out and opened it for him. Mike ran his finger of the photo and smiled "I would buy that suit but only because you wore it" he said. He showed the photo to his trainee who appeared just as taken by it. They started preparing the cabin for landing and Mike asked when I was flying back to LA, I showed him my flight details and he looked on his phone nodding and telling me he was rostered on that flight. He only did the Dallas to LA route as most other cabin managers didn't like doing the route but for Mike, he knew so many regulars, but most of them never get upgraded as it causes problems. Brad was at the airport to meet me and we stood chatting for a few minutes whilst he got a coffee for the drive back to Medina. Mike came through the arrivals door and walked over wishing me a good weekend and that he would see me Monday morning. Brad looked at me and chuckled so I had to explain it wasn't what he was thinking. Needless to say the entire journey home he went on and on about Mike constantly. Back in Texas for a few days I did an internet search on Jacob and found his name was Jacob Jansen very popular fashion designer and married to a man called Marcus and they both ran Jacob Jansen Fashion, the logo was simple it was two letter J's back to back. I couldn't believe how much a pair briefs cost though, you could buy at least 10 for the price but I guess you pay for the brand name and prestige of wearing them. Brad stayed home for the weekend which cheered me up no end and we spent every minute together, going in to town and sitting by Medina river although the weather was now starting to turn and got colder. We talked about the modelling and Jacob, to my surprise Brad had actually heard of the designer. The Sunday afternoon we sat by the river, I read a little but Brad seemed distracted and not really in to it, I put the book down and turned on to my stomach resting on me elbows and looked at him. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" I asked "is it Melinda?". Brad nodded "She is getting serious again" he replied picking a long stem of grass and tickling my arm with it. There it was again he kept doing these little things that aroused me and I wondered if he knew that "Marriage?" I asked him. "Yeah, and kids" he replied "I don't know if I want to be tied down like that" Brad said hitting me with the stem. I looked ahead "I can't help you on that bro" I said "but it's not fair on her if you keep dithering not knowing what you want in life". "I know" he said sounding exhausted "enough about me, what about you?" he asked changing the subject. "What do you mean?" I replied dithering myself. Brad laughed "Are you still a virgin or do I need to get you laid?". I chuckled "And where are you going to find someone?" I asked then paused looking at him. He sat upright "You have haven't you, you got laid?" he asked and I nodded "Why the fuck didn't you tell me?". I shrugged my shoulders "It's not something I want to talk about". Brad pounced on top me "I thought we were close enough to be honest with each other" he said head locking me. I giggled more out of wanting him to hump me than anything "I know". I told him all about Eddie, not in graphic detail except for me blowing him then puking which he seemed to find totally amusing and gave him something new to latch on to. He seemed happy that I finally was letting myself go and exploring things. It niggled at me the rest of the day, something was telling me he was a little jealous but I put it down to the reaction over the gay thing and he not understanding. Brad got up early to drive me to the airport before he went to work since my flight was at 7am. Dropping me off he made me promise to facetime him on Tuesday evening and I joined he queue for security. Boarding started and I waited a while to let the mad people get on first who thought the plane would leave without them if they didn't get on first. I joined the queue and they scanned my boarding pass, the gate agent looked at the screen for a moment then wrote 1F over the seat number, she smiled and pointed it out to me being discreet and I just nodded and smiled back. There he stood bright eyed and cheery, more than be said for me as I hated early mornings. "Welcome on board Mr Miller, 1F I believe" he said pointing to my seat. "Morning Mike, thanks" I said giving him a smile and leaving him to finish the boarding process. The flight was busy in first class so I didn't get much chance to chat with Mike, he wrote down my return flight details when he had a few minutes. Disembarking the flight he quickly apologised and said hopefully Wednesday we could chat a bit more. I was surprised to see Steve at the airport waiting for me. He admitted he missed having his new friend around and I hugged him at the airport in front of everyone. Wow I was getting brave I laughed to myself as we headed to the car park. The drive was crap with all the traffic and we headed up in the elevator, the doors opened and I only just managed to get out when Eddie pulled me towards the studio saying I had to get ready quickly, not even a hello or anything from him. A dressing assistant was present and handed me two boxes, I ran my fingers over the two embossed letter J's, I knew then that Jacob had got his way with Patricia. Opening the box I muttered oh crap as I saw it contained underwear, well if you could call the skimpy bit of fabric underwear. The dressing assistant chuckled and told me they are jock straps when I complained they were missing the behind bit. Eddie laughed having appeared and sent the dressing assistant out and fetch Jacob. She stomped off and Eddie rushed over nearly knocking me over to kiss me 'Fuck I missed you Tom' he said then composed himself. I knew there was nothing in this as Eddie made it clear he was in no way looking for romance he liked sex and he loved his boyfriend but stuff on the side was okay since his lover lived in New York. Which is great but random acts like this still gave me a massive boner and there was no way I could put the underwear on just now. "Can I see you tomorrow?" Eddie asked. I folded my shirt up "Depends, only if you stay over" I replied "I enjoyed being in bed with you". "Yes I will stay over maybe even fuck you twice if you can handle it" he kissed me and went around the screen. So this wasn't going to be a one off I thought to myself grinning, but then apart from having his body next to and on top of me I actually liked him as a person, much to the annoyance of the other gay male models who tried everything to get him in bed but he just showed no interest. One male model in particular was the one I had to watch, his name was Eric and I underestimated him big time. Jacob came in with Patricia who was not overly happy as it was a dead range she told me, they then had to explain that a dead range was a design that didn't sell very well but Jacob was adamant it was Patricia's fault she dissed him saying it was bad design. Still embarrassing enough knowing that I only had weird piece of underwear on under the dressing robe as I walked around the screen. Jacob was already sat there next to Patricia who had her unamused look of her lips pursed. I dropped the robe and hung it over the back to the chair, Jacob stood and walked towards me and indicated for me to turn around. It felt like a medical exam as he checked over every inch of my body and then he smiled and nodded to Patricia, she smiled in relief and took him off to her office. As soon as the shoot was finished I put the robe on and Eddie told me to stay put and left me sat there alone in the studio, unsure what to do I waited until they all appeared again but this time the designer had a box of different style of underwear. By the time the shoot ended at 2pm I was shattered not realising how exhausting or demanding Jacob was, clearly Patricia hated having designers in the studio during photo shoots. Jacob was packing the garments back in to boxes then walked over and handed them to me 'Thank you, these are for you to keep' he smiled. Jacob kissed Patricia on the cheek 'Amazing' was all he said and to her, Patricia waited for me to finish changing and walked with me to the elevator. "Well today has gone better than anyone expected" she told me. I smiled "No one gives much away so I have no idea how I am doing with you" I replied. She laughed and smiled "I will have a 5 year contract drawn up" she said as we walked. Seth had already advised me what to do in this situation "Can we discuss this in 11 months" I replied. She stopped and looked at me "Don't run before you can walk" she warned me. I looked at her "I am just not sure if this is what I want to do" I said. She seemed convinced and smiled "Your first fee has already been transferred to your bank account" she said. I really should have read the contract properly "Fee?" I asked. She smiled "Yes apart from a salary you get a 10% commission on the fee we charge the client". I nodded "Oh right". "Only if they are happy with the results" She went on to explain "It might change your mind" she said smiling. In the car back to the hotel I opened my banking app and checked nearly choking when I saw $5,000 deposited by Manon International. My mood had really brightened up thinking how much money was in my account, I kept closing the app and reopening it to double check it wasn't a mistake. Back at the hotel I must have smiled all the way through my shower and workout. I wrapped a towel around me and walked back in to the room, 4pm was to early to eat so I put the TV on flicking through the channels when there was a knock at the door. Not expecting anyone since I was meeting Eddie tomorrow after work, I rushed over to the peep hole and saw Jacob standing there, I leaned back against the wall 'oh fuck' I said to myself interrupted by him knocking again. I opened the door slightly just so I could peek through the crack. "What are you doing here?" I asked nervously. "I want to take you to dinner" he said looking at me through the crack in the door. Looking at him "How did you know where to find me?" I asked. Jacob laughed "A little bribery to Steve in the form of underwear and he sings like a canary". "I really don't know you" I replied debating to close the door. "Tom from Texas let me in for gods sake" Jacob demanded "or I will cause a scene outside your door". I chuckled and opened the door letting him in "Why do you want to take me to dinner?" I asked him. Jacob walked in to the room "I will speak to Patricia about getting you a better hotel" he said ignoring my question. I closed the door "Is your husband in town as well?" I asked turning to face him, unsure why I even asked that. "I see you have done some homework" he said laughing "so am I taking you out to dinner?" he asked again. I walked in to the room "Okay" I surrendered holding my hands up but actually I quite liked him. Grabbing a shirt from the closet and putting it on Jacob looked at me "Is that what your wearing?" he asked. I smiled "JC Penny's finest" I replied and Jacob laughed putting his hand on my shoulder. "Okay so we make a little detour before dinner" he said "Can't have you dining in shorts you will ruin my reputation" he laughed. His limousine was waiting outside the hotel causing much attention by people on the sidewalk and in the hotel. A few people in the lobby recognised Jacob and snapped pictures of us both leaving the hotel, little did I understand about fame and how innocently him taking me out to dinner can be twisted in to all sorts of suggestive narratives. Jacob asked all about me in the limo as we drove, I told him about the town in Texas where we live near and all about the Medina ranch and river and how perfect the place was. The limousine stopped outside a very posh looking boutique store that was quite busy. I looked at Jacob who smiled and said 'don't worry I am not a monster despite what Patricia might think', stepping out the limo I saw the two gold letter J's above the store front and knew immediately it was his store. Walking inside there was gasps from the customers as they saw the designer enter, the manager dropped what he was doing and came over. Jacob greeted him and introduce me to him explaining I need a casual but stunning suit for dinner. The manager laughed and reminded Jacob that they only stocked stunning suits. "I don't need clothes Jacob" I protested to him being ushered in to a private dressing room. Jacob smiled "I didn't say you did, I want to give you something for a good job today" he explained. I laughed "I stood and got photographed" I said to him. Jacob put his arm around my shoulder "Your so funny, I see why Eddie likes you". I stopped and looked at him "What do you mean?" I asked sounding a little upset. He smiled "Word on the street is Eddie was patient with you it upset Eric but then he is a nasty bit of stuff on the inside". "Oh" I said calming down "he called me a fucking amateur" I replied. Jacob chuckled "He forgets he was an amateur once. But he has blown any chance of working with me now for calling you that". By the time we left the boutique I felt like a million dollars dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, wearing JJ's underwear, socks and shoes. Jacob had been on the phone to his husband sending him pictures of me wearing one of his suits, I was a little dazed by all of this but Jacob was very open and honest saying he kept Marcus informed of everything as the media took things and put a spin on everything. I joked with him that he was trying to get me in bed, truth be told I hoped he was but he smiled and told me he was completely faithful to his husband. We dined in a haunt of many celebrities who would pop by and ask for him to dress them for the awards season, sitting there with my mouth open throughout dinner at the number of famous people who casually walked up to him. Jacob apologising for the continuous interruptions. One thing I learnt about Jacob was that he didn't style celebrities for award shows, if they wanted to wear one of his creations they had to pay and pay through the nose. He never gave them freebies as they had the money to buy his clothes, this way everything kept a much higher price tag and demand. That evening I spent with him would be where I made my first real friend in the world of fashion who would stick by me after things went sour, I know I was friends with Steve but I classed him as my gay friend and didn't see him as in the fashion world. The drive back to my hotel Jacob finished off a text to his husband. He turned to me "I have loved every minute being with you. Meeting someone genuine is refreshing". I blushed and chuckled "Thank you for taking me out I had a great time" I said leaning back in the seat. "Hope you don't mind if I hang out with you when I am in town" he suggested smiling at me. I nodded "I think I would like that, I mean to be friends with you" I replied stumbling my words. Jacob laughed and leaned over kissing me on the cheek "Only friends, if you need any clothes call me" he said. I smiled "Even this is way to much" I said running my hand down the smooth fabric covering my leg. Jacob shook his head "No it isn't, anyway you look as hot as fuck in that suit". I chuckled "Hmm I wonder who designed it, probably a rip off" I said feeling Jacob punch my arm playfully. "Get out" he laughed "you have my number, call me if you ever need anything" he said seriously. I suppose it may have been just one of those things when you say yes of course I will blah blah but never call, this wasn't the case with Jacob. Everyone at Manon International liked to tell you how difficult designers are to work with except when they are getting free clothes. I suppose he was no different to them but to me he would become Jacob my friend, a person I could really trust and eventually play a important part of my life. Tuesday Patricia was finalising the shoots I did with Jacob's underwear or as I would call them 'Jacob Straps'. He had given me so many of them yesterday that I gave Steve around 6 of them who smiled and hugged me, exclaiming he would have no trouble getting guys wearing these. To much information I told him as we headed off for lunch. That afternoon I did a few more shoots for some tailored shirts. Patricia came in the studio and showed me the photographs that were already on line modelling Jacob's dead range and said they were putting the same advertising campaign behind it as before. I just nodded and smiled but loved the photographs Eddie had taken, it was hard to pin it down, somehow he managed to capture me in some very sensual way that just looked hot. Eric had wandered in from his photo shoot in Studio B with a different photographer and looked at the screen 'Nice' he said and wandered off talking to Patricia. His arms clasped tight around my body as he carried me across the bedroom and dropped me on the bed, I was giggling so much I hiccupped several times, my underwear tenting from my erection and feeling so horny and turned on by him. Eddie kneeled over me as I looked up at his naked body the giggling finally stopped and my hand reached up and held his hard cock. I leaned up and closed my mouth around the head gently teasing it and licking it like a melting lolly. "You sure you want to do that again, if so I will get a bucket?" Eddie said with a cheeky smile on his face. I kneeled up looking in to his eyes "Are you trying to be funny?" I said forcing my mouth on to his. Eddie pushed me away "You know I would rather fuck you" he said holding my arms "and you have kept me waiting to long". I laughed and collapsed on the bed pulling him down "Do you want me as a friend or someone to fuck?". "Both" Eddie replied "I am greedy and I need to fuck The Model Called Tom" he chuckled. He was quick and he was good, my reaction was to slow, possibly on purpose. Eddie had my legs up and his tongue at my hole waking my body up I wriggled and moaned in pleasure feeling his tongue working me good. Kissing my body he worked up to my neck and eventually my mouth, deliberately putting me in a missionary position his hand stroked along my body and rounded my ass. He positioned his cock against my hole and gently began prising it open. 'Uh' I moaned feeling the pain as his head slipped through the outer ring. He stopped pushing and kissed me, my hand roaming over his arms and back letting me get use to his cock for several minutes. He looked me in the eye and I nodded watching the smile grow on his face leaning forward feeling hips lips press against mine. My hand gripped his arms and my back arched slightly off the bed as I felt more of his cock easing deeper in to my body. The little pain I felt was over shadowed by the pleasure surfacing and enveloping my body. It was strangely so different, he hips moved in a steady pace, our mouths sealed together in a very long sensuous kiss, holding on to each other it felt so perfect. To all intense and purpose this was no fuck, Eddie actually made love to me, I knew it and he knew it. It was slow and very erotic, I could feel every inch of him inside me building up with every lovingly delivered thrust. I could sense every change in his body and he began to show signs of reaching his climax. He kissed deeper and his hips picked up speed the sounds of his balls hitting my ass providing the back ground ambience. I moaned into his mouth my tongue on his my hands moving around his back holding him closer, my mouth filling with a rush of his air as he groaned deeply his eyes squinting and his hips pushed up hard forcing his cock deeper in to my body. His arms around my body and neck tightened his body going rigid, breaking the kiss he held my head close to his pushing up hard causing me to cry out in ecstasy, the feeling of his cock twitching in my ass reverberated down to my cock sending me over the top, without touching myself I came, my legs clamped around Eddie's waist and my eyes closed. I felt his mouth kissing me erratically across my face looking for my mouth which opened and received so welcomingly, holding him so tight I didn't want to let him go. I woke in the morning face to face with Eddie watching him sleep. I wasn't in love with him you have to understand that, but the sex we had that last evening was so powerful and intense, Eddie would only ever get that from his partner and me. For me it would only ever be matched by one other person. I arrived for my last shoot in the morning as I was booked on the 4pm flight back in the afternoon. I didn't know when or even if I would be coming back. Patricia called me in to her office and threw a paper in front of me, the title read 'Fashionista JJ and who?' underneath was a picture of Jacob and me leaving the hotel the night we had dinner. She sat there in silence looking at me, I explained that he wanted to take me for dinner as a thank you for the shoot during the day. She warned me not to get involved and tangled up with Jacob, it wasn't healthy mixing business with pleasure. I apologised to her, she told me she would speak to Jacob about it as well. My chat with Patricia had revealed the businesswoman inside who was ruthless and demanding, she called the shots and pulled the strings to the point where people didn't like to cross her. I never knew what went on between Jacob and Patricia but rumour has it that he threatened to dump her agency if she tried pulling a stunt like that again. Patricia reminded him on the contractual clause about designer and model, as much as she didn't want to enforce the clause she would if needed. My main concern would be if she found out about Eddie and me. Steve waved my flight details "Your back next Wednesday" he said crossing the reception. "Oh really, great" I said walking over to him. Steve held the paper back "For some reason your booked in to the Fairmont Miramar at Santa Monica". He handed the papers to me "Oops, I think that was Jacob's doing" I said looking at him. Steve laughed "You will be here for a week, so can we hang out over the weekend sometime?". I smiled and hugged him "Of course" I said seeing Patricia and Eddie came out of the studio. Patricia called over "See you Wednesday afternoon" disappearing in to her office. Eddie walked over towards me giving me a cheeky kiss and hug "See you next week" he said and looked at me. I smiled "You bet" I replied as Eric came out of the studio and glanced in my direction nodding his head. I couldn't be sure but maybe Eric was getting friendlier towards me. He was incredibly arrogant and Steve hated being in the same room with him, but he did have a bit of a sexy side to him. Steve warned me that Eric was quite the fuck machine and bedding anyone who gave him the time of day. Interestingly Steve said his previous boyfriend took a restraining order out against him on the grounds of obsessive behaviour but rumour has it was his boyfriends wandering eye that caused the problems. Mike stood at the door and smiled seeing me walk down the airbridge towards the aircraft and put me in seat 1F. Having time to chat to him on this flight as his trainee was with him again I showed him some more shots and gave him a pair of Jacob Jansen underwear still in their box. He looked utterly surprised and thought I had spent money buying them until I explained that the designer Jacob had given way to many after doing a shoot for him. I had a whole week before going back to LA and arranged to meet up with Mike at the weekend. As usual Brad was getting a coffee and I watched to see if Mike would come through as I knew this was always his last flight of the day, sure enough he appeared just as Brad got his coffee. He walked over to say goodbye and I introduced him to Brad. We hadn't decided where to meet until Brad suggested he come down to Medina and the ranch. The weekend turned out to be a lot of fun and Brad got on well with Mike, clearly Mike and I flirted but kept it very plutonic as we seemed to have a lot in common. Mike would come down to Medina several times even when I wasn't there to visit Brad as a friend to him as well, it was a break from Melinda which really kept him from being pushed in to decisions he didn't want to make. Mike would turn out to be a great friend with benefits (airline ones of course).

This is the first time I've ever posted. This story is true and, if you like it, I'll post more. It dates back to 2006 when I still lived in Manchester, UK and had visited a gay bathhouse there for the first time. Enjoy. I remember my first visit. I hadn't meant to take it raw. I'd always wanted it, but had never given in, too scared of the consequences. I was nervous even just entering the sauna. Terrified someone would see me and recognize me. That was scarier than taking it raw, I don't know why. Basement in Manchester is hidden down a backstreet, Tariff Street, in the city's Northern Quarter. You enter the building down some stairs and come to a door with a buzzer. My fingers were trembling, but I pressed it. There's a camera, so staff can see who's there in case... well, I'm not sure what it's there for - I imagine they let anyone in, in fact my later visits would confirm this. The clientele are a mix of young muscle pups, skinny queens, ageing queers and everything in between. When I walk down the stairs there's a desk and the tall, muscled man, fit with an 'I could fuck you three ways from Sunday and not be out of breath' grin on his face asks me if I'm a member. I'm not. I have to pay extra, but it's a one off payment and I'm here now anyway. What freaks me out more is that they take my picture and they want details: my name, my birthday - they have my picture. Fuck! I notice the walls and desks are crudely painted black, the countertop red - whore-red. He passes me a towel and I ask for poppers too. I can get fucked quite happily without poppers if the top starts off slow, but who wants to start slow? And anyway, I like the high. He hands me my locker key. I've read stories about saunas in America, but it's different in Britain - you don't get your own cubicle. It's more of a wandering free-for-all. I enter the door into the locker room and a couple of guys are getting changed, nude, taking their time, no inhibitions. I strip as quickly as possible and throw my towel around myself. I feel like people are staring at me. I'm 23, 5'9", slim, toned, nice big arse and I'm hairy - I'm not ashamed to say it. I hate all of the prepubescent shaving shit. I'm hairy - fuck it. I've had guys ask me to shave my hole before. Fuck right off. Men are supposed to have hair - real men, that is. With my head down, I walk through the locker room, gripping my towel firmly around myself with one hand and my poppers in the other - I've already taken the plastic wrapper off - I don't want that to spoil a moment, should any occur. On my left there's a darkened passage leading to somewhere I can't see, on my right there's a Jacuzzi, showers and toilets and at the end of the corridor is a seated TV area where you can buy drinks etc. I wasn't here for that. I turned left. In the darkness I can only see shapes in white towels, forms passing me, stroking me, brushing against me, but I'm too nervous to stop and reciprocate. I keep walking. There's rows and rows of cubicles, doors hanging open, some closed, some empty, some with guys doing... Well, you know what they're doing. It's my first time in a sauna - I want to scout the place out first. See what it's all about, so I do a lap of the facilities, head still down. There's a sling, gloryholes, a cage, a darkroom, a porn room and loads more cubicles. I focus on the darkroom. I've never been bothered about looks. Yes, we all like attractive men, I myself am a good looking guy - boy next door type, no model, but I'd turn your head a little if I'd made an effort that day. I just like men. I don't care about age, colour, size, etc. For some reason I've always felt ashamed of that when with friends so I've never admitted it. I didn't need to admit to anything in the darkroom. I walk in and I'm blind. My eyes take forever to adjust and I can still only see towels hanging from silhouettes and hear anonymous moaning from the corners. I feel a swarm of hands feeling over me and I panic - it's too much. Fuck. What's a nice boy like me doing here anyway. I brush them away and leave the room. After a while I get cruised in the corridors and I accept an invitation from a guy, late thirties I guess, tall, dark hair, ok looking. We fuck and kiss, but it's a cold mechanical fuck and he can't kiss, one of those tongues that darts in and out really quickly - it's not good. He seems way more into it than me, but it gets me horned up and after a good sniff of poppers o just lay on my stomach and let him hammer away until he's done. He wears a condom throughout and he's careful when he pulls out to slide it off gently and put it in the bin, then he slaps my arse, kisses me and says thanks, before leaving. I'm less than satisfied. After a fumble in the gloryhole-cabins, I head back over to the darkroom, a bit more courage now that I've had a bit of cock and I'm seriously in need of more. I feel around, groping for he first cock I can find - nice and thick with a really bulbous bellend. It tastes of lube but that only occurs to me later. I feel hands from behind me, groping for my cock and arse and this time I don't stop them. I sniff my poppers as they continue to explore and I slide my mouth up and down on the thick meat in front of me, now oozing precum and dribbling with my spit. I hear spitting and feel wet fingers probing me but I let it happen, why wouldn't I? Eventually my towel drops from my waist and I fumble for it, throwing it over my shoulder. Fingers are deep inside me now and I can hear whoever is behind me sniffing poppers and groaning to himself. More fingers enter until there's 3, maybe 4 from two hands, the poppers are blurring it now and the guy on the end of the cock I'm eating is moaning louder and louder. I feel him swell and the fingers in my cunt slide more smoothly as one, in and out and I'm in ecstasy, when the meat in my mouth explodes and I lick, drink and suck every last drop like its my last meal. As he moves away, I lean forward, hands against the wall and I realise that it's not fingers now, it's cock. Raw cock. There's no condom, just skin on skin. My fingers stay at my hole feeling it slide in and out and hearing him moan and it's amazing, but I know I should stop it. I get worried he might cum. Inside me. Cum. Inside me. I panic and I lean forward so he falls out of me, but he continues to try and reenter and begins to grow forceful. I push him away and in a hurry, embarrassed and worried, I leave the room and head for the showers. I wander around for a while before trying the darkroom again. Within seconds I'm sucking another cock, pierced and it's all I can do to keep my teeth in tact as he plunges it in and out of my throat. And then suddenly I feel hands again at my hole and before I know it he's guiding his cock in. I'm still concentrating on making sure I keep all my teeth and the guys behind me is just forcing his way in - it's the same guy from earlier. I don't know how I know, I just do. Same cock. Same guy. And I can feel him in there raw. It stings as there's been no introduction, just whacked it straight up inside me. The guy I'm sucking grabs my shoulder and the back of my head and I can't move as he fucks my face aggressively and deeply. I hear the guy behind me shuffle forward as he enters me balls deep and begins to hammer away quickly. I know what he's doing. He's determined to cum inside me. I edge forward, as much as I can without choking, but he follows, slamming my cunt until my natural juices flow and I'm dripping. They're both groaning now and both getting faster and I'm stuck, bent over awkwardly, I want to stand up, but I can't. The guy behind me finishes first, thrusting himself as deep as possible and gripping my waist to pull me closer . He's making sure I've got it all. As he pulls out the guy in my mouth cums and I suck and drink up - it'd be rude not to. Fuck. I feel my arse, fingering it a little and sniffing my fingers, sticky and pungent. Cum. Fuck. Panic takes over again. Fuck. I don't even know who he is. I don't even know what he looks like. I literally don't know a thing about him. As I stumble out of the darkroom, a little unsteady on my feet from poppers and being bent over in the dark, several guys eye me as I come out - was it one of them? If so, they don't give themselves up. I head to the showers and clean myself up. It's done. I've got a stranger's raw load inside me. There's no going back. I dry myself off and walk through the corridors, my head still low. Do any of them know what I've just done? I throw my towel on to the plastic mattress in a cubicle and climb in and lay face down. Fuck it. It's not long before I hear my cabin door creak and then close, the bolt sliding it shit. Locked. I stay face down. It could be anyone. God only know what they want, but I wait face down and don't move, trying to stifle my breathing. I can feel myself tremble a little as a firm m, warm hand grips my buttocks and slides about my arse. I can tell that he's wanting with his other hand. He fingers my hole, still wet, ready lubed. He uses his thumb and forefinger to stretch it a little and rub it in all the right places. Then he stands up and moves forward. I don't want to see him. If I see him, it's real. Glue grips my hair and turns me to face him, sliding his cock straight into my mouth. It's semi hard. Shaven, cold like it's just been washed, but tastes fresh enough. I can't resists a glance up, but I can't make much out from the angle I'm at. I suck him until he's hard, relishing his cock like the good slut I'm becoming. He leans over while I continue, fingering me and pulling at my hole, before pulling away. He spits on my cunt and I can feel him dribbling more saliva on there too. He rubs his cock against my arse like he expects me to pull away, or tell him to put on a rubber. I should, but I don't. 'I'll let him play a little,' I think, 'then I'll tell him to put a condom on.' He takes my lack of reaction as the go ahead and slides himself in me bareback, groaning and relaxing as he moves every once deep into my cunt. I take a few big sniffs of poppers, lay my head on my towel, hands limp by my side and just lay there as he goes to work. He's hot and sweaty and I feel it dripping on me. It's disgusting, but it makes me hard and I want more. He leans with both hands on the small of my back as he works my arse. Sliding smoothly and rhythmically in and out, never quite withdrawing completely, he fucks me like he owns me and I let him. I don't move, save to take more poppers - I simply lay and groan. I feel him getting faster and faster and he presses harder on the small of my back, which makes me arch my back and lift my head. He's really pounding me now - he doesn't care what I feel. I hit the poppers again and he cums, panting, groaning, spurting his jizz in to my gut. He slows to a halt and stays there for a moment, before collapsing in me, for one me down, his sweat slick along my back and I feel for a moment like I can't breathe. As I start to push up his cock slips out and he climbs off me. I breathe deeply trying to clear my head from the poppers and he unlocks the door and leaves. I just lay there. My body is still, but I'm fraying on the inside. I'm coming apart. What have I done? I begin to rationalise. It's only two guys. You don't do it often. What are the chances of catching something? Questions flood my mind and I try to play them down but before I can address all of them another hand is crawling over me. I feel his towel, damp and heavy, drop across my feet and he climbs onto the mattress,'forcing my legs apart to make room. His fingers find my hole immediately and within seconds his short fat cock is in my and I can feel his beer gut leaning on my as he thrusts crudely, I gratefully into my sloppy hole. It doesn't take him long before he's done and he leaves. For some reason I'm hard again. I have the cum of three complete strangers, none of whom I've even seen, swimming around inside me and my 7" cock is solid, pressed hard against the now sweaty plastic wrapped foam mattress. 'I'll give it another minute,' I think, the. I'll go home. But it doesn't take that long for people to come in. I'm still lying flat, my head turned to face the wall. There are at least two of them. One immediately turns me to suck his cock. His body is tan, smooth and I can see tattoos and pierced nipples, a shaved head and a weathered face that doesn't give a shit. His cock is bound by a thick metal ring and I eat it like my life depends on it. The other guy(s) (I'm still not sure if it's one or two) play with my arse and I feel warm breath on my arse as a tongue begins to play me. I writhe in pleasure. My entire body feels electric. I don't know what they look like. I have no clue who they are. But in that moment I want both of them, all of each of them, on me, in me - I just want them. They swap places but the guy whose cock I've been sucking doesn't rim me. Instead he straddles me and pushes my legs together so he's either side of me. He pressed his bare cock to my hole and slides in slowly. The cum inside me is beginning to dry and my insides are a little tacky - he sort of kissers further inside me, letting out a relaxed grunt as his balls halt him from going further. I'm still going to town on his friends veiny meat, I shaved with pubes bouncing off my chin and tickling me, but I don't care, I want him pubes and all. After fucking me for a few minutes, he pulls out and slaps my arse with his cock and I feel his hands lift my hips so that I'm brought up on all fours, but carefully so as the cock I'm sucking doesn't spill out of my mouth. I feel the guy behind me sit up, levelling his cock to my cunt and then he begins. He thrusts inside me so deeply and with such rhythm that I can't tell if it's the most amazing thing I've ever felt or if it's hurting me but there's no time to think. The cock in my mouth is dripping precum and I lap it up, licking his balls and sack and the gap between his thighs and enjoying the fact that the cock couldn't possibly be any harder - it's solid. He mimics the other guy's earlier actions and takes it out of my mouth, slapping me on the cheek with it. The other guys pounds away until he ruts up high inside me, gripping the flesh around my buttocks so tightly that it hurts and he lurches forward making me feel as though I can taste his cock too. I have nowhere to go. While they swap places again, the guy who's just cum lets me clean him off - less lets me, more makes me, but I do it - it seems like I have to. It's not long before his friend cums and the pair of them leave, thanking me and laughing to themselves. I took many loads that day. I've been back many times since too. Let me know if you like and I'll post some more

Just to lighten this up, I friggin love latino tops, they are crazy aggressive. As to the inclusive thing with different body types, to me that is just a preference if you don't turn me on then you don't turn me on, I realize I'm not going to be hooking up with 20yo porn stars because I'm older and don't turn them on, which is weird because I'm amazing to look at lol

So glad to hear that Daddys hand is still with us and not just for the story. Get well soon.

Lol - Oh, thank God somebody finally said it! 🤣 I can’t tell you how many times I’ve nearly typed “Will you two get a plane ticket and a room, for Pete’s sake?” All I can say is that we here had better get a riveting after-action report when this breeding eventually takes place... As to the images you posted - I have a sense that the only guys who can truly get away with a thong are those blessed with the entire package: the build, the muscle, the ass and the cock, the face, and the moxie that says they not only know they’ve got it all, they know that you know they’ve got it all. If any of those elements is lacking, it becomes obvious that the Emperor is showing his ass, and not necessarily in the desired way. Even if all is in place, but then he turns around and the face doesn’t complete the picture, the glamour is dispelled and the choice of a thong becomes questionable. I’d love to be able to wear one on a beach or in a bathhouse - but not a snowflake’s chance in hell. I do think thongs are probably something age may make us ineligible for, no matter how fit we are...

I’m 29 and blond, and though I have a boyfriend, I go to my local sauna a lot. The BF has no idea. I suck and swallow, which is risky, but have only got fucked bareback in the sauna once by this hot 18 year old top who I couldn’t resist. The BF and I have never used condoms, and I fuck him several times a week. I had gone to my local sauna as usual, and had taken a kamagra herbal tablet to keep my cock rock hard. Because the it always makes my head pound I took three paracetamol tablets also - or I thought they were paracetamol. When I looked at the packaging after swallowing them, it turned out they were nitrazepam (my boyfriend was taking to help him sleep), though I had no idea what nitrazepam was at the time and shrugged it off. Well after about 30 minutes I was rock hard laying on my back in the steam room, some random old guy sucking my cock. Thankfully it wasn’t that hot in there today so I could stay in there for ages while getting blown. I was starting to feel a bit woozy- the nitrazepam - but didn’t know why. My eyes were heavy and I felt so lazy, too lazy to move. When another random, somewhat younger guy came in and sat between my legs and started rubbing my anus, normally I would’ve pushed his hand away, but I just lay there moaning as I enjoyed my bj, my arms feeling too heavy to move. The younger guy rubbing my ass lifted my legs up, my floppy unresisting body complying with however he moved it, my head still awake but my body just empty and lifeless. It was weird: I was aware but detached. The old guy started licking my ass, sucking my ring and slobbering all over my anus. Normally, the thought of being covered with an old man's spit would have made me cringe, but not this time. I simply lay there, seemingly indifferent to his approaches. The old guy sucking me stood up when I was bent double and rubbed his cock on my face. He poked it between my lips, but I didn’t suck it. "Are you ok mate?" he said in my ear as he stroked my mouth. I moaned, but didn’t properly reply. He stood up and walked off, saying to the other guy "He’s too out of it to give me a good blow job" and left me alone with the other guy, who stopped rimming me and scooted up between my legs, his erection rubbing my bum cheeks as he reached up over my body, holding my face in his hand. "What you taken mate?" he asked, squeezing my cheeks. I didn’t reply, just stared at him blankly. "You don’t want me to put a condom on do you?’" he asked, shaking my head from side to side with his hand holding my face. "Noooo, good," he said as he shook my head "No" for me. He reached down and positioned his cock at my hole, rubbing the helmet in his spit as he nestled it in my anus, then he slowly pushed in, just shoving the entire length of his cock inside me bareback to the hilt in one go, his helmet drooling precum deep in my bowels. He started sliding his cock in and out as he hunched over me on the steam room bench, grinding my ass raw as he fucked my limp body. "Feel my cock and your ass skin to skin. I’m guessing you wouldn’t let me do this if you weren’t fucked up on something" he said as his fucking got harder. "You want my cum in your ass hey kiddo? Yeah, you’re getting it in your ass mate. Fuck, yeah. Here it comes. Gonna breed your little ass raw. Yeah. Fuuuuuuuck, I’m cumming in you kiddo... uh uhh..... fuck yeah, take my load, fuck." He moaned and shuddered as he bred me raw. I knew I was getting filled with cum, by a dirty old stranger, and I knew that was really bad, but I didn’t move, couldn’t move, just lay there, my legs hooked over his shoulders, my blank eyes staring at his contorting face as he came in my ass. As he did two guys came in, chatting until they saw the old dude finishing grinding his sperm into my bowels. "Sorry" one said as they sat down. "No worries" the guy breeding me said as he pulled out, cum dribbling out my ass. "This one is out for the count. Either of you want a ride?" he asked, fingering my gaping anus. "I’m a bottom, but George here might" one of the couple said. "Should I go and get a condom for you George?" "You don’t need to wear a rubber. Fuck, I didn’t. He doesn't care. Look" the guy said, pulling his cum covered fingers out my ass then shoving them back in. "Yeah, looks sweet" George said. "You got the clap, hey mate? It’s curable, fuck go for it" the guy fingering me said. "No, George is poz, I'm afraid" George's friend said. "Maybe I could, just this once. I haven’t felt bare ass in such a long time..." George started. "No, hold-on George, I'll get you a condom" said his buddy, leaving the sauna. George got in position between my legs, and I saw him for the first time as I hadn’t bothered to turn my head before to look. He was fat and hairy, fat cock but average length that he was rubbing on my toes. The guy who had already bred me was spreading his cum on George’s helmet and rubbing it up and down my crack. "Just put it in quick before your friend gets back" "‘I can’t, he’ll kill me" George said. "Nestle it at his hole for me quickly" my breeder said. George pointed his cock down and his helmet slid into my outer anus very easily, my ring closing round the poz guy's coronal ridge. "Oh my goooood, I am so close, I haven’t been skin-to-skin since I was diagnosed" remarked the poz guy. "How close?" asked the breeder, maneuvering my body so I slid into the raw poz cock another inch. "Like, about to blow. I better pull it out. Slide his body back again" said the poz guy. "Fuuuck, quick." ’ "Or deeper?" countered the breeder, pushing me down further on the poz cock instead of pulling me off. "Do it, cum in him, fucking poz his hole, I scraped it up real good, cum in him before your mate comes back." "Fuuuuck,’ the poz guy said as he buried his cock in my ass to the hilt. He rammed it in two or three times before moaning "Fuuuuuck, yeah, take it, take my load, buddy - feel my cum deep in your insides." He came in me, holding his cock buried to the hilt so his poz sperm was buried deep in my body. "Fuck yeah, fill him up, poz him, yeah. Stick your fingers up to keep the cum in when you pull out" instructed the breeder. "Why?" asked the poz guy. "You know why" replied the breeder. The poz guy pulled out and slid at least three fingers in my ass to the hilt. I was waking up a tiny bit, perhaps from the adrenaline of laying there and not resisting being fucked raw by a poz guy, and letting him finish off inside me. About then the BF returned with a condom, squatting next to me and wrapping-up George’s cock. "You’re not very hard, George. I thought you would be with your fingers buried in his cummy ass. Wow. What a lot of cum is leaking out, look at that" George’s friend said as he saw George fingering my ass. "Now, let me see you fuck this boy" he said. George pulled his fingers out and slid his covered cock into my poz cum filled ass, getting hard pretty quick again he fucked me for ages, trying to cum again, pumping his poz cum deeper into my ass as he fucked me with his sheathed cock. After about ten minutes of fucking George’s friend said "I’m going to get some water" and stepped outside. "You want me to help you cum, George?" said the other guy. "Sure, how?" George asked. "Pull out a second" ordered the my first breeder. "You can’t pull the condom off. My boyfriend will be back in a moment." "I’m gonna snap the end off. It will look like you’re still wearing a rubber." George pulled out and I heard a snap like an elastic band, and then he rammed his raw cock back in. "Better?" "Fuck, yeah" replied George. A few seconds later George's boyfriend came back in, and felt George’s cock. "I’m still wearing it" George spat as he fucked even harder into my insides. "Just checking. You getting closer to cumming honey?" George’s boyfriend asked. "All this is making me horny. I might want a ride after all." "Oh, yeah, real close" George said, grunting and moaning. "You gonna fuck him raw - since you're clean?" asked the first breeder. "Yeah, I guess so." "Fuuuuuuuck, yeah" George moaned as he came inside me a second time, his cock deep in my bowels as he injected his second dirty load deep into my guts. George slumped over me as he finished cumming inside me, discreetly slipping the broken condom off. He stood up, withdrew and his boyfriend took his place between my legs. "Wow, his hole is sloppy" the boyfriend said. With that he rammed his bare cock right inside me to the balls, unknowingly coating his cock in his boyfriends dirty load and pushing poz cum deeper into my bowels at the same time. "Yeah, fuck him mate. Fuck his cum-filled ass" urged the first breeder. "Fuck, I don’t know how you lasted so long George. Fuck. Here it comes. Yeah, take my cum, blond boy." I could feel his cock jerking into me spasmodically as he came inside me. The guy pulled out, and the first breeder sat between my legs and started finger fucking my arse again, sliding four fingers straight in. George and his boyfriend left, leaving me alone with the sick old pervert. I passed out completely as he was trying to get all five fingers inside me. I recall he had inserted all his fingers and was slowly trying to get his hand into me past the widest point. As it slipped in I must have passed out, laying there with his hand inside my body, completely at his mercy. I woke up as someone sprayed my face with water. Blinking my eyes open, I was being supported under my armpits by a huge tattooed guy. "Mate, are you ok?" he asked as I struggled to my feet, gradually standing free of him. I noticed, however, he didn't fully let go, as his arms still wrapped round me from behind, and his erection was pressing into my back. "Are you all right?" again he asked. "I dunno, um......" I stammered, still pretty out of it. "I found you in the steam room. Some guy had his foot buried in your ass. Seriously, the front half of his foot." I felt my gaping ass with my fingers, it was open wide by an inch, not closing up even when I tried to clench it. "Uuhhh, I err....." I mumbled for want of words. "He said you took nine loads. I think you might have got some dirty ones too. Sorry, mate." I flashed back to the poz guy and wondered what else I was impregnated with. About then the tattooed guy's cock slid into my hole. You know what followed. That was two years ago. I still haven’t been tested. Every time I fuck the BF raw, I know I could be bug-sharing with him.

I work up a little early this morning and noticed my man had a rock hard cock. I reached over to grab and jerk it; I can never resist his beautiful cock. He started to stir at my touch, and slightly spread his legs. This was all the invite I needed. Min no time I had a brown bottle to my nose taking a huge hit of poppers as I got between his legs and started to throat his cock. He work up a little bit more as I as working my mouth up and down his dick. He started to get more verbal “yeah, throat my cock. You love love my dick don’t you, slut?” As he was fucking my face as I took another his of poppers, and got really into sucking him off. After a few more minutes I felt him start to pulse and throb in my throat, and I was rewarded with his load. It is the beginning of a great day.

Part 7 It has been over a week since my poz daddy gave me the biggest thrill of my life and if this was a rollercoaster I would say we are still on the precipice of the highest peak. When he pulled out of me before cumming and told me his grand plan I was in heat so bad, I just wanted that big thick cock in me and his charged semen, I simply laid there and listened. I had always played out the fantasy of taking poz cum in my head but this was a whole new level. I never felt more me than ever before. I was more amazed about how 0 hesitation I had, he did not need to threaten. I think his potent cum had already kick started the real me by then. Part of this super high I was feeling was this waiting for just what the end result of his plan was going to be from that first day. Sure since then he has been back to my house, installs one window and then 'finds' an issue that makes doing another one impossible. Our days then are spent him keeping me in a state of cum charged bliss. I have had probably over 50 of his loads deposited deep in me since that first day. We make love, in my opinion, on my marital bed, hot missionary with him now not needing any lube to slide into me. He tells me he loves my sloppy hole and how he knows all day he can just walk up and enter me at his leisure and seed me deep. I love how we do missionary mostly now just so his load can stay inside and I can soak his charged DNA. I find any other position the loads just pour straight out. He of course loves that since he says it's a sure sign of how much he owns my ass. He laughs when I tell him that my wife thinks I have an intestinal problem when I randomly queef his loads in my pants doing boring house stuff with her. I love feeling him leak out, but love keeping it in me as much as possible. Everytime before my wife comes home he tells me he will be there when my first fever kicks in, nothing yet but I keep hoping I am knocked up soon. Knocked up before he unveils his final piece of his plan, he told me it would be in an email. I think I just got an alert, ooooo, it is from him. Part 8 soon

Thought I’d share mine.

I have always been a "dirty ,cockhungry, cumthirsty bottomboy, fucktoy faggot" (that was my description on pickup sites in grade 9 lol) And I have always been such a slutty little cumdump that 1 or 2 cocks was never enough. I met one of my boyfriends by writing "cumthirsty schoolboy looking to blow groups" on a bathroom stall with my email address. Before becoming a bareback gangbang toy I loved nothing more than sucking cock after cock for hours and drinking load after load. whether it was a small group of boys or a group of horny chickenhawks or blowing guy after guy understall or through a in a public restroom or on my knees, naked in a porntheatre out in the open sucking of stranger after stranger while other guys watched and waited for their turn to use my mouth (about 9 out of 10 guys who used me in there wanted blowjobs) or in porn theatre private booths where I would get on my knees naked with the door left open and guy after guy would come in. the more cocks I suck, the more I want.gloryholes taught me it doesn't matter what the guy attached to the cock looks like, I just need that hard cock in my mouth and cum down my throat.i used to stop at the porntheatre on my way home from school and suck off 7 or 8 guys in an hour.or skip class and blow guys all day.once I became a bathhouse cumdump most guys just wanna fuck me but I still love being on my knees sucking off cock after cock. I have sucked over 25 cocks in a day several times. how much do you love sucking cock? how many?have you sucked off many groups?

Part 1 Yeah, I knew I was gay. I was only 18, and still in high school, but I had fooled around with a few guys. This was early 1990’s. My experiences had been quick and anonymous at the adult bookstore. The first couple times I just let a guy suck me in the video booths, but after several sessions I also found myself on my knees, blowing guys. I had gotten fucked exactly twice and both times it had hurt and both sessions were totally safe as both guys used a condom. I was, at that time, the total surfer twink, at 5’ 10” and 170 pounds, dark blonde hair and surfer tan. I was also totally not out. And still coming to terms with the fact that I not only liked guys, but that I was definitely more interested in the pleasing side of things versus sitting back and being pleased. But the bookstore was really hit and miss, and I was somewhat picky. My usual target was white guys in their late 30’s or 40’s. And that was really all I liked. Guys my age didn’t interest me really. So there I was, 18 and about to graduate high school and sneaking off to the adult bookstore when I just couldn’t take it anymore and either getting sucked or sucking guys. And I could still count my gay sex experiences with both hands at that point. My parents were divorced and I lived with my mom, who by then was either at work or at her boyfriends place. I had a lot of time to myself. We lived in a big apartment complex and I had to walk past a couple of buildings to get to our place from the parking lot. It was during one of those walks from the parking lot that spring of my senior year that I met Tom. I had kind of noticed him, even though he was pretty new to the complex. One, I had to walk past his patio and front door and two, Tom was hot. He was maybe 40 (turned out to be 44) and tall, 6’ 2”, but he was thin. I doubt he weighed more than me at 170. His hair was graying and cut very short. Our neighborhood was not gay Mecca, so I figured he was straight, probably some guy getting divorced. Anyways, I was waking up the path after getting off of my after school job and it was just getting dark. I knew my mom wouldn’t be home, but that was fine and I was used to making myself dinner. I saw him ahead of time on his patio so I wasn’t spooked, but I was surprised when he raised a hand and called out "Hey there, neighbor. I was standing here hoping a young strong guy would walk by." Slightly unsure how to respond I gave a light laugh, whereupon he continued "My name is Tom. I just moved in here a few weeks ago and I bought a new TV and need to move the old one upstairs but it’s really a two man job. Any chance I could talk you into giving me a hand?” Like I said, I already thought the guy was hot and, well, he was wearing a rather revealing a v neck t-shirt and gym shorts. Besides, it just seemed polite to help so I finally replied "Hi nice to meet you Tom. I’m Chris. I just live down the way, and yeah, I can help.” Smiling, he replied "Great, thanks. Come around the front door and I’ll let you in.” I walked in and my naive gaydar went off a little, but then I asked myself 'What do you know?' What was clear, however, is that the house was far from being slobbish. His furniture was tasteful and several cool, well-mounted, framed black and white photos hung on the walls. The TV of which Tom had spoken was prominently located in the living room, positioned on the floor. The new TV was in the prime position on Tom's entertainment center. “I really appreciate this. I just want to get it into my play... into the other bedroom, the first one at the top.” Most of the units in our development were the say layout, so I knew the room of which he was speaking was, in my house, my bedroom, so I knew what to expect. Tom led the way, hefting up his end of the TV, and I took-up my end, and we rather clumsily made our way up the staircase. As we began the turn into the bedroom doorway Tom grunted "Let's put it on the long desk up against the wall, ok?” It wasn’t til we set it down that I looked around and realized the purpose of the room, and why Tom had initially begun to use the word 'playroom' in identifying the room. Now, my experiences might have been slight, and I had certainly never been in a room built just for sex, but I was in one now. A bed on one wall, with the big desk which contained a TV, a DVD player, and a VCR on the opposing wall. The third wall was all mirror closets. And in the corner was something that took a naive 18 year old a second to figure out: a sling. In the most remote corner I couldn't help but notice a camcorder on a tripod. I think he noticed my shock and offered a light joke "Well, doesn’t everyone have a sex room?” He paused and then added more quietly, “Well, every gay man anyway.” He stared right at me when he said that. And while I was 95 percent sure before he said that, I knew now I was standing in Tom’s gay sex room. “Do you like it?” he asked. My heart was beating 1000 miles an hour when I replied "I like it a lot.” He looked at me a long time. “Chris right? Chris, how um, how old are you?” “I just turned 18 in January,” I replied. This was totally different than a two minute blowjob in the dark. This guy was my neighbor. “Chris, I’m not the only gay man in the room right now am I?" he asked quietly. I shook my head. "I was just gonna make sure the TV works right. Want to watch a video with me?” I again just nodded. “One thing though, one of the few rules of my room, clothes are definitely not allowed.” With that he stripped down. Holy shit. He was naked in front of me, and half hard. And his cock was amazing. I nervously stripped down. I was hard as a rock and tried to hide it. He patted the bed and motioned me to sit. “Don’t ever hide that from me here Chris. This is a place where we celebrate man sex.” He grabbed a remote and hit play and settled back onto the bed next to me. I couldn’t help staring at him and he seemed to want me to. I was so nervous still but could feel myself starting to lose control. The nerves were fading into want. I had never been in a guy's place before like this and had never had sex outside the bookstores, where it was all about rushing through as quickly as one could. Tom seemed in no hurry. As I watched him wrap his hand around his thick cock and slowly stroke himself, I thought 'Whatever happens will be fine and it’s nothing you haven’t done before at the bookstore'. I had no idea. I was 18. No one had shown me yet. Tom would. I just didn’t know it yet.

1. Tucker Broderick Doesn’t Give a Shit About You From where Sergei is crouched straddling the rooftop, he can see right up Tucker's shorts. He’s aware, too, that Tucker does this on purpose. Tucker bites down on a string of nails between his teeth, methodically laying down a shingle, pulling out a pair of nails and securing the oyster grey shingle in place. He then crab-walks up a foot or two to ready the nails for the next shingle. Between hammering, he looks up at Sergei in his wary, enticing way (the shit) and scratches his balls, also on display. Sergei glances down from his rooftop peak and secures his top ridge cap shingle. Since Tucker is close to laying the final, upper-most course of shingles, he’s pretty close to Sergei. His balls will soon be close enough to touch. Sergei has to look away. Sergei takes wire rim glasses from his shirt pocket and wraps them around his ears. The view from the roof of this Echo Park home is epic. The smog abated with last night’s windstorm, and today you can actually see Santa Monica. Past old Hollywood, past Beverly Hills, past Brentwood, right down to fucking Santa Monica beach, miniature palm trees and all. The blue expanse of the Pacific ocean is almost as blue as Tucker’s eyes. The view up Tucker’s shorts is even more epic. The sun slashes directly over his large hanging pink crown. In the dark cave beyond you can even make out a dark patch of pubes. Inside the shadow glints the thin metal P.A. piercing his dickhead. His crouch has his left leg bent up toward Sergei on the upside of the roof at a right angle. The other leg, muscular and taught, is straight out, balancing him against the roof’s pitch. The baggy shorts are long and droop open enough to let the warm afternoon breeze flap the black polyester silk, swaying his long, hanging ballsack in the same warm breeze. Sergei feels his own balls churn in his worn Levis. The breeze up here on the roof blows Tucker’s auburn hair off his shoulders. If not for his red cap it would blow all over his face, but the cap holds it down. He nails his last shingle at roof’s peak next to Sergei, then stands, scales back down the roof to his last course of shingles. Sergei quickly replaces his glasses in his pocket hoping Tucker hadn’t seen them. He feels they make him older than he is. His bald spot doesn't help. "Boss-man," says Tucker turning to him. Sergei shields his eyes against the sun, low in its descent toward the ocean. “Only got a few more in my row, then what?” Tucker voice is sonorous. Sergei learned sonorous in English class last night, and it describes Tucker’s voice to a tee. Deep and full. He has no right to have a voice so rich, when his is so scratchy with these foreign, garbled words always tripping over his tongue—or a face so striking he feels he's always caught staring. Admit it though: You’d spot Tucker easily in a crowd, even if he wasn’t just wearing shorts and tennis shoes and nothing more. He isn’t pumped up gym-built, but his torso’s a perfect V. His arms are cut like a bronze statue from working construction outdoors for him since graduating two years ago from high school. His chest is broad, tan and smooth; his chiseled pecs rise and fall with his breath while his foreman thinks what, indeed, was next. An invite for a beer after work? Maybe enough to have him once again pass out on the couch? Sneak a quick blow job that would not be mentioned in the morning? The breeze changes slightly so Tucker is now directly upwind of him. He can smell the suntan oil and body sweat. Being near-sighted, it’s the first time Sergei reads the words on Tucker’s red cap. Make America Great Again. A cloud of birds suddenly swoops close to the roof and scatters overhead. They gathers again into cloud formation and disappears over the ridge. Sergei sits back on his butt, seeing Tucker in a different light. “Really, man?” Sergei asks. “Fuck yeah. Trump that bitch, yo.” Tucker hears the disapproval, takes off his cap, reaches in the pocket of his shorts and takes out a black hair band. His face is impassive. He twists a pony tail, sticks the band over it, and puts the cap back on. He looks down at Sergei, asks, “You think owner-man would mind if I use his shower before I take off?” Sergei thinks about it. “You have towel?" he asks. Tucker nods. "You lock up afterward, okay?” “Da,” Tucker mocks his accent with a smirk and a wink. He knows what works on Sergei. At the lip of the roof Sergei's his younger brother Alexei—or Alex, as he insists now that he’s married a pretty American girl—pops his blond head up. He scans the two figures at the rooftop, tilts his head down slightly, raises his eyebrows, opens his eyes wide, and swears, “What the fuck? You guys aren’t done?” He eyes Tucker guardedly seeing how Sergei is eyeing him, or specifically—he knows his brother weakness—is trying not to eye him. “Come on, man. I told you I want to knock off early. Cindy wants to go to her parents' house and show off the baby. Sergei, she wants you to come too.” Tucker says, “Fifteen, twenty minutes, bro. Right, boss-man?” “Da,” says Sergei, spreading his legs out, straddling the roof, and hammers down another ridge shingle. Alex disappears down the ladder, while Tucker inches over to his last course of shingles. Squats. He’s maybe a foot away. Sergei stills smells him. It’s not lost on him that Tucker’s crouch exposes more than an inch of his crack. In fact, in the bright sunlight streaming down his spine, Sergei sees the brown swirl of butt hair blooming out of Tucker’s waistband. He even sees the parted canyon of entangled hair that disappears down into darkness. He follows a trickle of sweat traveling like a rollercoaster that falls into the canyon. He's staring again. This close, looking up at Tucker’s billowed back spread like a sail, he can’t tell if the tribal ink covering his back is supposed to be wings of an angel or wings of a bat. Tucker shuffles up another inch closer to attack a nail at mid-shingle. He’s close enough to see beads of sweat perched on the swirls of crack hair. He loves his brother but he feels trapped in his life. However crisply in focus the glistening beads inches away, tonight, and most likely forever, they’re out of reach. 2. The Closet Sergei and Alex putt-putt down the street in their nondescript coup. Sad! Tucker Broderick takes his day pack from the bed of his truck and walks to the house. It's weird, this house, you gotta admit that. He looks up at the scattershot pink structure, at its many angles and levels. Nothing straight about it, especially the owner, Alex had told him. Ground level's the one-car garage. The green door accordions sideways. A staircase to the left leads up the steep cliff to a stone landing where there's a glimpse of downtown Los Angeles. Mostly, though, the landing looks out to the flatlands of South Central. The front door is thick and arched, probably the original mahogany from the 1920s. A caged peephole and ironwork hinges so ornate he's surprised someone hasn't stolen it decades ago. Terracotta pottery with bougainvillea surround the stone landing. Large palms overhang making the area, even though it's still in the nineties, feel shaded and cool. The inside entrance is small but with the arched picture window above the garage expands the view to the hills of Hollywood and makes it feel larger than it is. French doors to the left are curtained and hide a staircase that leads to the main floor. Why cover the staircase? Seems bizarre. Lots of wallpaper on this floor. Printed bougainvillea and palm fronds again. Tucker hates coordination. Reminds him too much of mother. You might miss it but under the stairway a glass nob opens a camouflaged closet wallpapered over. A table stands in front of the railing with a glass bowl filled with loose change and keys. The stairway is not grand but nicely refurbished. He and Sergei had toured the house looking for the bathroom once before. He remembered there were many staircases, some leading to just one room. Yeah, weird like that. It was like someone one day woke up with a bright idea and added another room on a whim. That's how the house was. No real design, just a collection of whims. He remembers you go back to the master bedroom on the main floor to find the bathroom. He's taking his time today, though. He doesn't have real plans. No one's waiting for him. Here's the dining room on the main floor landing, a large kitchen is in back. He strolls through the kitchen, opens an ancient fridge to see what's cold. Milk, a half-filled bottle of Pinot Grigio, no beer. He picks up the wine, recognizes it as a decent label from a very old year. Uncorks it and chugs down half the content before he tastes that it's terribly bitter. Must have turned. Goes to the sink and bends over to sip from the faucet trying to get the bad taste out of his mouth. Back out in the dining room there's a small room to the left. It has an arched window that opens to a balcony, which overlooks the stone landing. Wallpaper in here is of large Chinese lanterns. There's a old oak desk in the middle facing the window. He peaks in a drawer. There's several manila folders. He pulls out one. Yellowed photographs of naked boys and men. None handsome but tough, some almost sinister. They look like derelicts, homeless men and boys, naked on mattresses passed out, drunk, drugged, under overpasses, in flophouses, a few which look like this room, same desk chair. He puts it back and closes the drawer. The house is silent except for a clock ticking somewhere. The opposite side of the dining room is the master bedroom and through it is the master bath. He looks up seeing dust play through sunlight from the great room upstairs. He wants to see the sunset. A set of stairs perpendicular to the dining room leads up to the great room. Not large but its double height ceiling gives the feeling of vastness. From here he overlooks the dining room, the silk table runner, two ornate candelabras, the dark painting of bulls on the wall. Three stories above street, he looks out to the city. The height clears the low canyons and expands out to see the city basin. You see the sailboats coming back into the marina for the night, a tanker trolls off the coast of South Bay beaches, Palos Verdes where he lives with his parents in the detached studio above the garage, all the way over to Long Beach with its oil rigs that dot the coastline. It's a rare day in L.A. when you see this much. The sun's still far from setting but there's the beginning of pink tinge in the sky. A ribbon of yellow follows the sun across the water. He figures it'll set in another hour. He'd like to be on the freeway by then. Opposite the window is a huge fireplace, not that one's ever needed in L.A. In front of it sits a couch. He flops down and kicks his sneakers up on a large coffee table. There's a silver tray with crystal glasses and two decanters, one clear, one brown. He picks up the dark one and smells very oaky scotch, pours himself a good amount in one of the crystals. Looks out to the city, toasts himself. He grabs his crotch for no discernible reason but simply because it feels good. He takes another sip, feels it burn his lips, tongue, throat, and then his belly. He's feeling exceptionally good and he's getting hard. He's inclined, against his better judgment, to whip out his hefty meat and beat off right there on a stranger's couch. A gong from a clock strikes the half hour. He swigs the rest of the glass and sets it back on the tray. He hops down the staircase and back to master bathroom. Palos Verdes where he grew up is filthy rich, but this bathroom he recognizes as old wealth; wealth from when L.A. was new. All original fixtures. Spacious. Pair of white porcelain faucets that read Hot and Cold at the sink, white tiles with a stripe of mint green at chest height. Hand-laid hexagon tiles in elaborate patterns cover the floor. The toilet's metal and huge, flushes with a pull chain atop a tank that sits at head height. It had been a long day. He lets his shorts fall to the floor and steps out of his shoes, puts his backpack on the counter. He opens the toilet lid. He's semi-rigid so he needs to carefully aims his piss over his P.A. He tilts over so it's aimed straight down, not splashing in random streams. He gushes powerfully for a few solid minutes, relishing the release and enjoying the loud noise it's making in the bowel. He shakes his dick a few times and goes back to the mirror. He pulls the band off his ponytail, shakes out his mane, and stuffs the band in his pack's front zipper. He's tempted to use one of the big white plush monogrammed towels on the rack. SM, reads the monogram. Funny. Instead, he takes out a small terrycloth beach towel he grabbed from home and flops it over the glass shower stall. He peers down and notices a lower drawer partially open. There's something flesh colored inside. He opened it up and finds a cone-shaped piece of rubber that then tapers down to a slab of pink rubber the size of a quarter. He's heard of butt plugs but never seen one up close. By all rights he should be grossed out but he isn't; mostly he's curious. He picks it up and feels its heft and density, where it gives, where it's rigid. It's pretty big. So fags put these up their butts? Why would you do that? He puts it back in the open drawer and rinses his hands. He gets in the shower and picks up a hanging metal hose. He gets what the nozzle's for and let it drop. He turns on the faucet and water spouts out the hose in a spray that makes the hose dance and clang around the stall. He reached up and turns a nob connected to the wall pipe that makes water run through the showerhead. He rinses the day off him. The spray feels like rain and the splatter echoes across the tiled room. He soaps his pits, his butt, his pubes. His got a full eight inch erection and it's soaped and ready to go. He gives it a couple of whacks, then holds his balls and starts getting into it. First he thinks of tits, huge tits swinging, wet and bouncy. Pussies pushed open showing pink and red. But then there's an image of the derelict man on a mattress under an overpass, his prison tattoos, a lewd pose showing off his dirty holes, another picture of a filthy boy reading a girlie magazine, cum on his stomachs. He's edging. He switches his mind to cunts he's fucked, sloppy twats, dry tight virgins, but they're pushed out, he's edging more when he feels the density of the buttplug, knowing it's been up someone's asshole, what that must feel like. He spurts hard and spurts hard again, right across the shower stall. A big wad of cum's running down the glass. He shakes and steadies his knees. He strokes himself a few times more. He contracts with each stroke. Then polishing his nob hurts and he stops. There's a bottle of shampoo on the floor. He picks it up and smells it approvingly. He rinses off his hands and lathers his head, massages his scalp, and then rinses his head back with the sensual streams running through his hair. Some soap gets in his eyes and he turns around and lets the water wash over his face. He rubs his sockets and floods his face with water. His body loosens; the soot, the sun, wash away until he's fully relaxed, freshly jacked and ready to head home. His dick's still hard. He shuts off the water. He clicks open the gold handled door and wipes himself with his beach towel. The owner's hairdryer sits next to his pack on the counter. He sets it on high, brushing out his hair with his fingers. Straight, parted in the middle, feathered to perfection—he's satisfied. His dick's still hard, which is increasingly weird, but looking at himself in the mirror he looks pretty hot. He thinks about taking a selfie. Nah, instead goes for his jeans and tee-shirt in his backpack. It's empty. He opens a back compartment. Also empty. He looks on the floor for his shorts. Missing. He's being punked. He put his knuckles on the counter. "Hey!" he shouts, echoing against the tile. "Cute, bitch! Not funny!" He smacks his hands on the counter. The only thing not missing is his red cap, which he puts on. He tries wrapping the towel around his waist but it comes up short. He goes out naked looking for the thief. He darts through the master bedroom into the dining room. Dusk's approaching and the wooden floorboards creak hollowly. Only thing he hears is tick-tock. "Hello?" he calls up to the living room before bounding up the stairs. The sunset has gone from pink to red, the sun a few inches above the water. He looks out to see if there's a car outside. The driveway's deserted. It's possible someone had parked in the garage but he isn't going out in his mini towel to find out. He thinks maybe he can borrow something in the owner's closet. He'd bring it back on Monday. And why won't his dick go down? The bedroom's in the back part of the house close to the hillside. It's cavernous and dark in here. He switches on a light which does little to fill the darkness. The light's maybe forty watts and the room's paneled in rich mahogany, which easily drinks up the wattage. The bed's enormous with pillars on each corners. Large eyehooks where the mattress meet the bedposts. He isn't liking this much at all. He finds the closet secreted within the wood panel. He opens it up and finds a shadowy gloom. He can't see a thing inside but senses it goes in really deep. He reached around the door looking for a switch and finds none. He enters cautiously raising his hand in the air hoping to find a light cord. A few feet in and he's still searching. It's probably the biggest walk-in he's ever seen—or not seen. About eight feet in his hand hits a small piece of chain. He tugs it and the closet bursts with a harsh light. Surrounding him is an enormous collection of leather jackets; beneath hang leather pants, some with, some without crotches; a row of various height boots stack against the back wall; above them a row of caps, a second shelf of masks, some with zippers for eyes and mouth, and a few gas masks; opposite the jackets are harnesses and vests, also some rubber shorts and tops, one piece is shiny rubber that would encase you from head to feet with only a few holes at your mouth and one hole for a dick. From the size of the jackets and pants he figures it fits someone tall and either extremely fat or exceedingly muscular. Neither he wants to meet. He turns around to leave but someone's blocking his way. He jumps back only to realize it's a full length mirror on the door that shut while he's been looking around. He wedges the door open and lets the light spill into the room. There's a dresser where he should find something, underwear, shorts, a sweater, something that will get him to his truck and out of here. In the first drawer he finds handcuffs and wrist restraints. A second drawer is full of rope and bandages. He started to get panicked and rifles through drawers several at a time. Blindfolds, ball gags, leg restraints, studded arm bands, cock rings, long metal rods, medical instruments that he can't even begin to think what they're for, jars of lube, a drawer filled with large and extra large dildoes, a box of small brown vials. The vials are slimy and smell off-putting. In fact the whole room has a stale scent of grease. Now that there's more light he can see the bed is covered by a large rubber sheet and streaked with grease. Art on the wall is of men with exaggerated nipples and massive cocks, fisting, fucking, and pissing on each other. They're signed Tom. The entire ceiling's mirrored. He sees himself on the ceiling looking down at himself, naked, cock still amazingly erect. Also reflected, taking up the entire doorway, a bearded leatherman smacking his palm with a nightstick.

Did the laundry yesterday, we have common laundry room in the block. My tall sexy neighboor had left one of his boxer pair on the dryer. I took them to my appartment and jack off while sniffing them. I could feel his dick through the fabric, it was so hot and amazing,

I walked into the fast food restaurant and saw a beautiful young stud standing in line to order. He looked to be 5'9" about 175 - 180 lbs, dirty blond hair, well tanned wearing a t-shirt with the sides cut out and short soccer shorts. West HS soccer was plastered on his shirt and he had a great funk/smell. I figured he had been at practice. The cashier started taking his order and obviously knew him. I learned he was a senior and had just turned 18. He paid then moved to the beverage fountain. I ordered my food and then went to get my drink. I looked up and our eyes meet. I looked at his crotch and then back up at his eyes. He had a nevus grin and looked away. I assumed it was a lost cause but after getting my drink I spoke to him saying he must be really hungry after practice. He smiled and said yes and it had been a hard practice. He seemed to be more comfortable after a few minutes of conversation. They called his number and he left with his food to go. I got my food and went and sat down thinking damn it would have been nice to see him naked or at least shirtless. I'm 50 years old and have been in the closet all my life and just recently started to come "out" of my shell. I have sucked a few dicks but that's it. I would have loved to suck him off. As I am dreaming I look up and he is standing in front of me. He asked if he could sit down and I said of course (must have been 8 empty tables around). He sits down and says his car wont start and he was going to need a jump start. I said after we eat I could help. We talked about his car and he said he guessed he need to take better care of it. I smiled and said you need to take care of more than your car and he laughed a nevus laugh. As we walked out I made it a point to bump into him. We went to his car and I said it was probably more than the battery after he told me he had jumped it a couple times. So I said we could try or I could have it towed and have my mechanic fix it for him. He said I cant afford that I don't have the money. I smiled and told him it was no problem and pointed to my Ferrari 458. I hear a slow damn under his breath and before he can say anything else I called AAA told them wear to take the car and tossed him the keys and said lets go I'll take you home. He was like really I can drive it. We get in and I showed him all the features. Then I say so you know the way home you can head that way or you can turn left and we can go to my place. Maybe take car of you if you like, you know hot tub or pool. The ball was in his court. I held my breath and low and behold he turned left. We talked about the 458 on the way to my house but once we arrived I asked if you wanted to sit in the tub and offered a drink. He said I didn't bring my bag so I have nothing to change into. I smiled and said just wear your underwear and then free ball in your shorts afterwords. He then told me he was already free balling, as we approached the tub he pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside and ask if he could use the restroom ass he needed to piss. I decided to go for the gold and said no he couldn't use the toilet but I would be happy to take care of him. I got a look of shock and he said what. I dropped to my knees and pulled off my shirt and opened my mouth. He asked if I was serious and I said hell yes. He shyly walked up and pulled out his cock and a few minutes later he let loose a beautiful stream off piss. I drank as much as I could and he made sure to spray my face and chest as well. As he was finishing I leaned in and took his cock in my mouth to get the last few drops. He tried to pull away but I grabbed his hips and held him in place while I started sucking him. It didn't take long and I was rewarded with a huge thick load of great tasting cum. After I cleaned him up I looked up and asked if his girlfriend would have done that. He said shit no, she wont even touch it, she wants us to wait. I asked if he like it and he said hell yes so I moved him to the deck chair and started sucking again. I sucked him for about 10 to 15 minutes, listening to him moan. About half way through he put his hands on my head and pulled me deeper. Then a few minutes later I hear fuck! fuck! fuck! take my load bitch as he shot his load in my mouth for the second time. After I had cleaned him up I asked if he wanted to get in the tub to relax or did he want me to take him home. He then told me he had texted his mom while I was sucking him and told her his car broke down and he was staying with a friend. Then he said he would rather I just suck him some more. I asked if he would rather take a old mans virginity because if he was game my ass was his. He just looked at me for a minute and said if my ass was as good as my mouth he was in. This was my first time doing this so please be kind. For the record the part in the fast food joint happened except for him coming back in. He was one hot piece of ass. If you like it I will continue sharing my dreams :)

24 very sub bottom here. Tonight I got to serve to men at the same time for the time. They are partners and both tops. I asked if I should bring condoms. They said they had some. I get there and start to suck one of them off. Eventually I move to his partner who is uncut. I hear the first guy RIP a condom open and lube up. I'm getting my head held and face fucked. The guy fucking me is making lots of body contact but I can feel one arm reaching down towards his cock. Im worried he is going soft and will try to remove the condom. All I have to do is reach back and check. I knew i should, but I kept my arms down and my lips wrapped around the uncut dick. In a few minutes i feel it. The unmistakable throbbing of a penis and my ass filling with its cum. In a couple minutes I swallow his boyfriend. After I left I asked if he bred me and he said the condom slipped off as he was pulling out and hes sorry if he did.

Me: Master, how long will you make me wait before turning me into a vampire with drug resistant HIV. You know I want this. Please. I will get down on my hands and knees, degrade myself if necessary. Cumvampire1800: I know that, and how much you want to bleed for me! Me: i think about it all the time cumvampire1800: My fangs cutting the soft and hard flesh the blood spurting into me as i feast on your lifes blood! While my toxic serum pours into your body, giving you life yet. Me: exactly. yes cumvampire1800: And to suck you to the point of ejaculation and then go further! To wait until I feel your innocent seed in my mouth, before giving you mine. Me: that is like a furance erupting in me cumvampire1800: More like the light being slowly drained out! Yet you will feel the serum entering your body, going through the cock, to your balls, pouring into your body. Pozzed instantly. Me: u won't go too far I mean sucking the life out of me. I find it amazingly incendiary to think of being pozzed instantly while you drink my cum and then my blood. cumvampire1800: No I won't leave you lifeless, but there will be times i bet you will have concerns! Then I will have to show you the difference between passing on your seed and feasting on some poor stud's blood until he is lifeless. Straight men make the best ones for use to feed on. I will show you all. You know you will grow no older than you are now. Perhaps even become younger if you get enough blood from virgins. Me: ok. I love breeding college boys. High school if they are of age. cumvampire1800: You must be prepared: when i feed most men become queezy and are ill prepared for the reality of what is happening! Me: i thi\nk u may have mentioned that. Me: scary they can be brave and oft fearless, however things change dramatically when its their own blood and its ebbing from them and more importantly from such a crucial part of their bodies! Especially when they do not realize what they are getting in return. They won't die. And their seed will go on to infect others. Me: that is quite vivid. How soon can you be here, sir. Cumvampire1800 You have to summon me. I will send you instructions on how to do this. If you do it right, I will appear before you at once. Me: is there lovemaking, well...sex, before the...act? Cumvampire: if that is your wish. I am very good at making love. You will feel my fangs as I move over you. You will be so drugged by my spittle that you will not resist nor fear. At least not until the orgasm is occuring. Me: Are you saying I am chosen to receive this. To carry on. With you. Cumvampire: Yes. To a degree. After I bring you into the fold, I will show you the difference between feeding and passing on the seed. Me: Is it true I will be able to have any man I want? Cumvampire: (laughs a long time) Why don't you wait until this happens to find out. Surely you do not want to know all now. By the way, I have sent you the sheet of instructions. Now I must go. I believe I shall see you sooner than you realize. Me: Sooner the better.

Super horny and the "date" I had lined up fell through, so I went online and found a guy taking loads in his hotel room. Messaged him and told him I was looking for anon ass an hoped it was sloppy. He told me to come over and yes it was. Got to his room, door was unlocked, lights were out, and his beautiful white ass was in the air and ready. I teased his hole for a minute and asked him how many loads he had so far today. He said four. I stuck my finger in and it was definitely well lube with cum. I was rock hard by then and slowly pushed my way inside him. His hole was tight and slick and he obviously loved having hard cock inside him. Gave him a long slow fuck and if felt amazing shooting my load inside him. I kept going as long as I could after, getting really turned on thinking about my cum mixing with those four other guys inside his hot ass. Once I felt myself getting limp I pulled out and left. I think 5 is my favorite number now.

And your cock in my holes! You STUD!

Gosh I agree that all my problems are caused by others. Those pretty young white boys look away now that I am older. They know all about climate change, evolution and video games because unlike me they accept what they are told. I wish we could hang out and I could share their superior wisdom and hot, relatively undiseased bodies. I don’t deserve such rejection.

Great history lesson. But history but not excuse stupidity to replace personal experiences: it only places them in context. And still doesn’t quite explain how what I observe in the gay community is WORSE than in overall society.

Two hot tops, especially the blonde stud!

Today i was crazy horny and all over Grindr and Adam but of course came up with the same old BS. Luckily a FWB i suck off like once a week text me. He is like 40 years old, handsome, fit (runner), white (European), and has a nice 7 inch pretty thick uncut cock. I have been seeing him regularly for a few months and pretty much have just sucked him off though he has fucked me raw a couple times in the past they were quick sessions where he only was inside for a few strokes. Today his text said he wants to fuck me for real this time. I was nervous but hot for it. Though i love to get fucked raw i dont do it often and i dont really take loads very often. After showing up and his place he walked me over by his garage (he likes to play outside) and i started to suck him. He was rock hard instantly. As i worked his cock and balls he reached down and started to play with my ass. He told me to stand and lean on the wall. He pulled my gym shorts down revealing my jockstrapped ass and he moaned in approval. I gave him the bottle of lube i brought with me and he pushed his cock against my hole and rubbed it between my cheeks. I was super nervous and uptight and couldn’t get out of my head. My hole was not loosening up. I said lets go inside so i could sit on it. We no sooner made it through the door and he pulled my shorts down again and laid on the floor cock at full attention. I lowered myself onto his cock and rode him after i opened up a bit. He stopped me a few times because he was close to cumming. Then he said i want to breed you from behind. I knelt on the couch and he stood behind me. Pushed his cock in and started fucking me like aggressively. It hurt as i still hadn’t opened up completely but i took it. After a few minutes he said “i am going to cum inside you” and he buried his cock deep inside me and filled me with his cum. I love when he cums because he shoots huge loads and his cock pulses and throbs. It felt amazing as he bred my tight hole.

O.M.G. ! Extremely HOT ! I used to work at a main series of stores cleaning out the bath rooms . I guess it started by sniffing the bath rooms - cleaning out the garbage / waste can - seeing what types of people been in there - really cleaned them good - smelling clean afterwords . Sometimes seeing used condoms or used bloody tampons . Anyway , I started smelling my worn underwear - guys butt holes and more - with groups - always gave me erections !

When I was a full time escort 75% of my customers were married men that could not get enough from their wives. Their wife would not give them a BJ or not let them do anal and me being a Fem twink it work for them.

If your on a gay cruise, post a poster on your door stating cock sucker available, inquire within and even have a sign up sheet! Make the sign catchy! Like a glory hole with stick figures would do! If it’s a straight or mixed cruise, I don’t know that I would advertise on your door! Gay cruises will definitely get you action! My first husband and I took several gay cruises and always took our portable sling on our trips! We posted a poster with a catch phase, ever want to try out a sling? We even left the door open for guys to see as they passed by. To say the least we had several takers and had a great time with multiple guys on each cruise! By the 2nd day of the cruise there was all this buzz do you know where the sling is? There’s a sling onboard? Even the host for the entertainment that night said I hear there’s a sling on the cruise and a few shouted out where! We loved the attention it brought along with all the fun too!

Raw for me, we were both so into the moment we didn’t even mention condoms and we ended up breeding each other

Antonio Biaggi, Cutler-X, Peto Coast, Brad McGuire, Ethan Wolfe are my main favourites. Would love to bottom for any of them.

Yes they change as an insatiable bottom I found my hole has changed in many ways

It's always about the fuck for me. Love me a long fuck sesh, the type where I make the Top nut over and over until I squeezed every last drop out of him. And if the Top is equally adept, me may even give a hands free orgasm while we're at it.

Seeing so many guys who pick the load over the fuck, should remind bottoms that once they are done taking loads at the bathhouse there are many bottoms who would appreciate your load before you go home. I know, many bottoms say, "I never fuck because my cock is too small or because I cum too quickly". Many bottoms don't care about that and they don't care about a guy ready to breed them being a bottom, at least many here don't.

Reading most of these responses makes me think that I'm a true freak on here. No one "owns" me, and I have no desire to "own" anyone when I do top. Being fucked feels great. It is the top's responsibility to make me feel good. It is my responsibility to make the top feelgood. In no way do I feel it is a one way street, when fucking. If he is hurting me, he "WILL" stop. And, I don't want to hurt someone for my pleasure. I consider him to be nothing less than a selfish prick if he doesn't care about my wel being. I am a human, not a worthless animal for someone else's pleasure. If no one agrees with me, so be it.

I need to be that boi

Banged this bearish 29 year old last night. He was a major horn dog. Took it all with no complaints just a lot of moans. After has said he felt a sense of accomplishment. I guess so. After 2 hours and three loads. Lol.

So this young 19yr old guy asian guy comes over, just to chill, because he's totally new, and has never bottomed before. We cuddle and chill on the couch for a bit, and we are making out super hard, and he says he wants to try getting fucked for the first time. We head to the bed still making out, and we suck and lick and do all the fun foreplay stuff, and he finally says "Do you have condom?" I say I do (I had one left, and I super just wanted to be fucking him however I could) so we dome up and he starts riding me like crazy. Like I can't believe how tight and awesome he feels! We cum, me in the condom in him, and he shoots all over my chest, but we're still cuddling and making out. I start getting hard again as I spoon him, and he reaches around, pulls the condom off me, and says "Slide it in" so hell yes I do! And we have this really relaxed spoon fuck. He turns his head and whispers "I want your cum in me" which drives me crazy and I shoot for the second time deep inside of him. We keep texting through the week, and finally we were both so hard for each other we had to meet up. And Holy SHIT did we fuck! No condoms, just 3 orgasms ALL inside him. He's definitely a craven bottom now!

PART 4 ”You have my cock so hard Chris. Such an eager little cocksucker. Yeah, lick that precum. It’s all for you sexy boy,” Tom murmurred encouragingly. Maybe a few times the thought 'Oh, fuck, this guy is my neighbor' crosed my mind, but I certainly didn't dwell on any issues: it was all happening very, vast, fast, an besides, indisputably, I loved being on my knees, worshiping his beautiful man cock. It had such a perfect mushroom head, full and pronounced. It felt perfect inside my mouth, resting on my tongue. And that long thick veiny shaft, with just the slightest barely there upward curve felt like hot steel. His massive balls that I couldn’t quite fit into my mouth in a nice tight sack. I just wanted it more and more. I was losing control. Trying to suck it all into my throat and gagging. Finally, Tom pulled me off his cock. I looked up worried I wasn’t pleasing him. I think he sensed my concern and reassured me saying "That feels almost too good sexy boy, and we are just getting started. I’m not ready to let you make me cum yet. Right now I need to more of you. Get up and go over to and stand facing the desk and spread your legs a little. God, that ass is so beautiful. Such a perfect boy butt. Now, bend over and grab the desk. I just want to see what it looks... oh what an amazing hole. You have the most perfect asshole, Chris.” This entire time I was following orders, and apparently I enjoyed my role as my cock was rock hard and throbbing. Yeah, I loved hearing how much he liked me. A super hot man with a huge cock thought I was sexy and had a great ass. Breaking me out of my thoughts, he spoke again, “ Chris, what’s on your mind? Is there something else you want to try now maybe?” I was a little shy, but it felt safe to admit to Tom "That thing you said where you licked a guys butt. Is that... did you want to maybe try that with me?” I've gotta admit, even horny out of my mind, I was blushing. Fortunately Tom was very, very smooth: “You have no idea how bad I want to kiss and lick your boy hole, Chris. Here come over and lie on the bed and pull your knees up. Yeah like that, so I can see that little hole. It’s so pretty. I swear it’s like it’s asking me to play with it and make it feel good. Do you want that Chris, to have me make your boy hole feel good?” Laying on the edge of the bed, my knees pulled up, practically able to feel his breath on my hole, I lost and begged a little for the first time. “Please, Tom, do it. I never wanted to have somebody play with my butt like this before. Please do it. Anything. Your tongue or your fingers even.” His reply was short, “I won’t make you wait. I can see you need it.” And with that he moved in, inhaling the scent of my crack and then slowly teasing my hole. The electric shock of pleasure made me buck. “Oh fuck!” I exclaimed. He was an artist with his mouth and had me squirming and writhing and barely able to breathe. It felt so good. And then when he pushed his tongue and tried to fuck me with it, I just melted completely. “Oh god oh god that feels so good. It feels so fucking good!” I blurted. And then he stopped. His attentions to my ass were a whole new realm of experience, such that I had no idea even existed. I wanted more, most definitely, but was also aware the pleasure Tom was eliciting from my ass took precidence even over my cock. I desperately wanted to experience more of the pleasure he had been giving my young asshole. I needed to feel more. “That hole - damn," Tom remarked, adding "I could eat that asshole every day. Nothing is better than a hot eager boyhole.” I was so happy. He had loved doing it, and apparently wanted to do it every day. I had pleased him. Now he continued, “Look at my cock Chris. Look it’s even harder now. All because of your hole. Your little hole makes me this hard. I really want to try something with you. I think you will really like it. I love it and guys who love having their butts eaten seem to just really LOVE it.” Reaching under the bed, he pulled out a small brown bottle which he offered to me saying "These are called poppers. Have you heard of them?” I just shook my head. He continued explaining "You just sniff it and it’s totally harmless but it just... well I promise you, you will really love it. It will make you even hornier than you are now.” He unscrewed the cap and out the bottle to his nose and held one nostril shut and took a deep breath of the poppers and held it. “See, it’s super safe but.... oh man, fuck yeahhhh,” he moaned as he slowly stroked his giant dick. Handing the bottle to me, Tom provided instructions saying "One more time, one nostril at a time and hold it in. Hold on one sec Chris. I want to watch you take your first sniffs. And I want to just get some of this on me.” He had pulled out some lube and was stroking it onto his cock. He then took a blob and rubbed it onto my hole. I said nothing but definitely noticed that a guy had just put lube on my butt. I wondered if Tom wanted to fuck me. Before I had a chance to think Tom instructed "Okay, Chris, here use that pillow for your neck. Yeah, like that. Now lift those legs up so I can see your hole. Now take two breaths in each nostril just when I tell you to, okay?” I nodded, so horned up and so out of control already with lust. And then he spoke,”Take a nice deep breath and hold it. Okay, again. Now other side deep breath. Hold it. One more time. Hold it.”

Warren hated his name. "Warren" just sounded so blue collar and like a mechanic who'd fix your transmission or something. He was always complaining about his life because he thought he'd been dealt a bad hand. He came from a family of hard-working people, but he was a reader and a thinker. He was one of those kids who kept a diary, but written in a language he'd invented. If his snoopy mom ever found it, she'd have no idea what she was reading. He also drew in a sketchbook he'd been given as a birthday present. Drawings and doodles recorded as much about Warren's life as the words did. His older brothers thought he was a sissy with all his books,drawing and his perfectly neat room. His brothers were all working guys..."real men". One brother worked in construction and the other two drove trucks full of whatever. None of them were ever close. They never talked to each other or hung out. Warren knew something about himself. A private thing. Maybe the whole family knew it even if they didn't know they knew it. His oldest brother once came into his room late, late at night when he though the younger brother was asleep. He only sort of was. Warren felt spongy flesh on his lips as he continued to fake sleep. Yep. His brother had his naked dick on the boy's lips. Then he stopped and masturbated right over the kid's face. Warren soon felt some thick fluid spray on his face and bare shoulders. It happened a few more times that year. Didn't make sense to Warren. His brother had so many girlfriends...didn't they let him do that for him? Maybe not. He knew it was Luke...something about the smell and the 'vibe'. By 1993, Warren was about to graduate from high school. The brothers had all gotten married and moved elsewhere. He knew more things, and hated his stupid life even more intensely. AIDS was in the news. There were men like him dying and protesting and fighting for "rights". Such a mess he'd been born into. Maybe this new President Clinton could fix it all by the time he had to worry about the consequences of being GAY. He'd gotten an academic scholarship to a school in a different state. It wasn't a full ride, but it was close enough that his parents let Warren go. It was one of those "liberal" schools according to the dad. Warren thought that meant they just liked Democrats. He didn't yet know that was another word for "free" and "caring". He'd find out soon enough. That college campus was so different. People of various colors and religions were everywhere. And gays. So many gays. Warren felt like he could finally exhale. At an orientation event, Warren met Orlando. Now, that was a name! Lucky. Orlando was from Cuba and darkly handsome. Not that tall..and not very young for a college student. He was maybe in his 30's already. His lower jaw jutted out just a bit. "Are you a new freshman?" "Yeah. And a hick. This is all new to me." "How many credit hours are you taking?" "Just 14." "Just? That's a lot for your first semester." "I'm on scholarship. You have to take at least 12 hours on academic scholarship." "Yeah. Well, eat your Wheaties. It's gonna be tough." "How many are you taking, Orlando?" "Three. I pay my own way and am slowly trying to get a music degree." Warren stopped being interested at that point. This older guy was like his brothers -- old guy with very small goals. His brothers got excited and bragged about 4 % raises at their shitty jobs. "Nice to meet you, Orlando. I'm gonna go finish unpacking." "What are you doing later tonight? There's a dance at the Union. I'll be there. I'll introduce you to some people." Warren never danced and didn't like people that went to dances, but he probably needed to meet people eventually. "OK. Like around 8 or so?" "Yeah! You have to be 20 to drink beer, but I'll sneak you some." "Cool. Bye." Warren wandered back to the dorm. He'd never had a beer in his life. He knew from watching his brothers that beer made people stupid and made them vomit. No thanks. He wore what he'd worn all day to this dance thing. He wasn't John Travolta and didn't plan on being visible. Or dancing. He liked old Motown hits and thought if there was indeed a "god", she would look like Aretha Franklin. Now... there was just grunge and techno and mindless bimbos who couldn't even really sing. Warren scanned the crowd. Not many kids were dancing...but a lot of them were gathered on the side. Way more guys than girls. No Orlando in sight. He'd stay for five more minutes and then leave. "Hey! You're here! I thought you blew me off." Orlando. "Just got here. What is this all about?" "Here. Finish my beer. I'll introduce you to my friends." That wasn't an answer. He grabbed Warren's hand and led him for what seemed like a mile. And then they were in a pretty dark corner of the 'ballroom' where a group of three guys stood with cups of beer. "Is this a gay dance, Orlando?" "DUH! I thought you knew already. You're gay, right?" "No...well, yeah. But..." "Hey! This is Warren. He just started as a freshman. Share your beer and be nice ... he's pretty shy. I'm going to get another beer...who wants?" Two of them gave the signal for a refill. The third one just drilled his eyes into Warren. A short, stocky Mexican man wearing shorts and sandals.There was energy going back and forth between these two strangers. Warren was out of character when he just walked up to the guy and introduced himself... "Hi. I'm Warren. What's your name?" "I'm Antonio..Tony. Call me either." This guy seemed had seemed so guarded and unfriendly at first, but now his face brightened. Smiling. "good to meet you, Tony." Another good name he would have traded for. "How do you know Orlando?" "I don't, really. We just met earlier today...at that thing in the quad." "And you're gay?" Warren exhaled and just said "yes" with a sense of relief. It had to be said at some point. "It's okay. You're in a safe place, so to speak. Want some of my beer?" Warren couldn't believe he was drinking beer at a gay party. College would be fun. It would change him. "Thanks, Tony. Are you going to dance tonight?" "No. I didn't wear shoes for dancing. Plus I hate this kind of music. I mostly listen to salsa." What? Warren only knew salsa as a dip for chips. He assumed it was a spicy kind of music. Probably Latin. The two of them continued to make idle chat and slowly moved closer together. When Orlando came back with several beers, he glared at Warren like an angry teacher. He took him aside. "Did you kiss him? Did you drink from his cup? What happened?" "No! Of course we didn't kiss. I drank a few sips from his cup, though. Why?" "He's got the AIDS virus. You can't get that from the cup, but I think he has other things too. I've been going to this school for ten years, and over that time I've seen AIDS move in and claim plenty of men. You're new and I'm not comfortable with seeing you start up anything with Tony." Warren couldn't respond. The beer taste in his mouth suddenly turned bitter. He sometimes brushed his teeth so hard that his gums bled. He knew blood was a way for that virus to get in. He had brushed right before he got there. Bad? He liked Orlando's show of concern. But he still felt drawn to Tony. What if he never saw him again? It was a big campus. New thoughts and feelings were hitting his brain like a boxing glove assailing a punching bag. Bam! "I know you probably don't dance, but would you like to go with me for refills? Just stay behind me." Warren followed him to where beer was being served, but didn't linger too close. He tried to be invisible, but was aware that he was being looked at. He and Orlando drank their beers and watched the crowd. "Do you like this music." Warren asked him "Not at all. I like the classical stuff. I hope to someday be a composer. But this is the music most gays like. What do you listen to?" "Old R&B, mostly. I love Aretha Franklin and Marvin Gaye." The conversation came to an abrupt end when dome random friend of Orlando's showed up and begged him to dance. Warren was alone in a crowd of gays. He decided to go back to the corner and look for Tony, but he and the others were gone. Time to go. As he made his way to the exit, he saw Tony dancing. He was maybe a little out of it because he was barefoot. Who the hell went out on the dance floor without shoes? But Warren thought it was kind of cute. Tony wasn't a very good dancer, which was also kind of endearing. Those dark brown eyes caught Warren's. More electricity was exchanged. "Where's Orlando? He didn't leave you alone did he?" He was sweating a lot. Warren saw a drop go down the bridge of Tony's nose and thought to himself "There's AIDS in that drop". AIDS. It was really here and really real. "He's dancing out there somewhere. What happened to your sandals?" Tony looked down at his bare feet and seemed surprised. "Oh shit! I left them somewhere. I'm kind of drunk." "No kidding. I think I am a little too. I've never really drank before." "Let's go. It's too loud in here." He grabbed Warren's wrist and led him out. Somebody at the door asked if they wanted a hand stamp to get back in. Tony ignored them. They enjoyed the luxury of quiet as they got in the elevator. It's funny how much you miss silence after being in a place like that. Warren could still hear some of that last song in his head. "What did Orlando tell you about me. He didn't like us talking -- I know that much." "He didn't say anything about you," Warren lied. "We just talked about music." "Oh. OK. Where do you live?" "It's just across Potter's Park here. Can you walk that far with no shoes on?" "Yeah, yeah. I'm always barefoot...I've got the thickest,most calloused soles you've ever seen." They set off across the park. It was well-lit and there were little blue boxes for calling security if you needed it. At the orientation, they warned people not to pick up these phones out of curiosity...the campus cops would come even if the phone was lifted off the hook. All of this had happened a few years before Warren had arrived, A few muggings and rapes had happened and it was demanded something be done. Warren looked down at Tony's bare feet, padding unprotected on the sidewalk. Warren remembered walking around barefoot as a kid during the Summer. He once stepped on a nail attached to a small piece of wood. It hurt, but he was more surprised than in pain. He limped toward the house with the whole mess still attached to his foot. He'd cried so loud and then had to go get a tetanus shot on top of all that. A cold shudder went through him. One bad childhood memory among many others. "You lied to me", Tony said out of nowhere. "Huh?" "I know Orlando told you everything about me. He tells everybody. He's a resentful person. He's got some good qualities, but his big mouth ticks me off sometimes. You are like this shiny new coin he found on the beach and wanted to show you off." "What do you think he told me?" "I don't THINK. I KNOW he told you I've got HIV. Didn't he? Be honest." "Yeah." Warren felt guilty. "He said you might have other things as well." "Asshole. He doesn't know everything about me. But what surprises me most is that you don't seem afraid. You're here in a dark park with a guy that carries a disease. You didn't even hesitate to leave with me." Warren took stock of the situation. He looked inside of himself and felt no fear or hesitation. He really liked the Latin man keeping him company. It made no sense. His idiot brothers made bad decisions their whole lives. Warren was the smart one. Who says he was making a bad decision?? "Are you sick, physically?" "Nope. Not at all. It's supposedly like a cancer that is ready and waiting to spread. There's drugs out there for it, but I'm hoping for a cure." "Yeah. I've read about all the progress they're making. I think they're even working on a vaccine." "I'm biding my time. Do you have a roommate?" "Not yet. My R.A. told me the guy wasn't coming until a few days after the semester started. He's from some other country somewhere." Tony's mood brightened. "So you're at JSP? That's not a bad dorm...closest one to campus." "There's a 'Dark Side of the Moon' mural on my floor's walls. My brothers listened to that album over and over again. I hated it." "Murals are almost always bad. Ugly. Can I crash at your place tonight?" "Absolutely. You can't really go anywhere else with no shoes." And then Tony reached out and took his hand. Warren had never held hands with anyone but his Mom...when he was very young. Touch was a good thing. Tony's hand was a little smaller than his, but wider and thicker. It felt right. THIS was what romance felt like. What a nice night this was turning out to be. "What's in your head right now?" Warren paused before answering "Nothing but good things." "Stop for a second." They were under the shade of a large willow tree by Potter's Lake. They kissed and Warren felt like he was breaking into a million pieces. This had been a long time coming. Warren had once kissed Liz Brunner at a high school dance. But their lips were closed tight. And it wasn't sexy. Tony's mouth was warm and open...his tongue was inside of the boy's mouth. Exploring and tasting. Warren let go of Tony's hand and reached around to hold him in a hug. He let them wander all over his shoulders and back. He finally dared to go down to touch Tony's ass. It was big and round. And solid. Without stopping the kiss, he pulled Warren's right hand to his crotch. Whoa! It was bigger and harder than the boy could have guessed. He also wasn't wearing underwear. Warren's mom had told him to always wear underwear, clean underwear. They reached a natural stopping point and kept walking. "That was nice. I like you, Tony." "Wow." That's he said as he draped one arm over Warren's shoulders. They walked like that all the way back to the dorm. It wasn't 11 pm yet, so they could go in the rear exit. On the 4th floor, Tony took a few seconds took look at the mural. Triangles with rainbows coming out of them. " You're right. This is pretty bad." Inside the room, Warren became keenly aware of how juvenile it looked. He'd brought goofy toys and memorabilia from home. One of his favorite possessions was a plastic Q-Bert bank he'd been given as a boy. He loved that video game even though he'd never really been that good at it. Of course Tony zeroed in on that. He picked it up and chuckled. "I remember this guy. He's cute. You are so boyish." "What do you mean?" Warren asked. "I meant that in a good way. You held on to that little kid inside." "Oh. Want me to turn on the TV. I don't know any of the channels yet. Choose something for us." Tony clicked on the little TV and scanned what was available. There were UHF channels here, which Warren's home town didn't get. A rerun of "Green Acres" was on. "Nothing on. Let me find something on your stereo." Suddenly Warren that his musical tastes would seem as silly as the plastic Q-Bert. But Tony was tuning the FM dial to a Latin station. Mexican music. The men who had worked on his parents' roof listened to this music all fucking day long. He wasn't really a fan...it sounded like a carnival to him. Aretha could kick all their asses. The little, barefoot Latin man started dancing just a few feet away from where Warren sat on his bed. It was sexy to watch. This guy who knew how to move his body. He took off his t=shirt and left it on the floor.If Tony forgot to take that shirt, he'd steal it and keep it forever. He had a broad hairy chest that was a little flabby. Not bad, just hefty. A thin trail went down his gut and into his shorts. Warren's dad and brothers were pretty hairy, but not him. He was like a newborn. Tony danced to a few songs and Warren wondered if he'd do a striptease. !!! His eyes were like an eagle's as he watched. "OK. I know this isn't your style. Put on something you like." This felt like a test to Warren. He wanted to play something they'd both like, but also a song that would continue the mood. Al Greene! Yes! "Let's Stay Together" was one of the best songs ever recorded. As soon as it started, Tony closed his eyes "Ah, yes. I know this. Dance with me." What? Well...He wanted to, but this was more of a listening song than a dancing song. OK. That hairy torso was pretty hard to resist. Tony removed Warren's shirt and pressed his body to his. Warren remembered slow-dancing with Liz Brunner to "True Colors" way back in the day. It was so tedious, but this wasn't. He held Tony's body to his and swayed a bit. Slow dancing never made sense until now. They resumed kissing as Tony reached over and turned out the light. Dancing in the dark with this perfect man. Yes! This kiss was different than the one n the park. It was deeper and more energetic...more meaningful. As the song was ending, Tony moved his mouth to Warren's right ear. "Want to fuck?" Fuck? Sex? "Yes." "Take off you pants. Take off everything and get into your bed." So he did as he was told. In the dark with only some streetlights coming in the window. "I...I don't know to do anything, Tony." "I'll teach you a few things. Want me to shower? I'm pretty sweaty and I'm sure my feet are filthy. Got a towel?" " Forget all that and just come here." Tony joined Warren under the cool sheets and soon climbed on top of him. "Am I too heavy?" "Not at all" "Do I smell?" "Yeah...but in a good way." "You'll belong to me pretty soon. Can you handle that? Handle me?" "Oh YES!" "That was your consent, Warren. You might not like this at first." "OK" Then the man on top of him suddenly got heavier as he worked himself down and spread the guy's legs with his hips. Tony knew this was a virgin and it would take a little work. He aimed his hard prick just right and let the tip kiss Warren's ass. "Yeah!!!" "That was the easy part. I should have had you blow me first. Spit would help this." But the oral time had passed. He had to fuck this kid. The head found the spot and moved in. He was IN! "NO! WAIT! I CAN"T" "Just get used to it a little. Relax. Push your ass muscles out a little. It's going to feel better." But Warren continued to protest. Loudly. Warren 's brain was over the rainbow somewhere. He thought of stepping on a nail -- only now the nail was puncturing him in a different place. Tony moved in a little further...and further. He scanned Warren's face, waiting for his grimace to turn into a smile. Oh god! An HIV man had his dick inside of him...and damn if it didn't seem perfect. "I'm fine. Fuck me. Cum in me." "Whatever you say..." The smaller man had a body made to fuck ass. His hips were strong and instinctive. Warren looked like he was in some glorious place, based on the expression on his shadowed face. "Shit! I'm gonna come! You can't change anything at this point! UGH! Here!!!" Warren felt the man release his seed deep inside of him. Perfect. So perfect. They napped a little...and then fucked again. It was morning when they woke up. Very early. The sun was creeping in to find two poz men wrapped in each other's arms. "I can drive you home, Tony. Where do you live?" "On Ohio Street. With my Mom. She'll make us breakfast." "Sounds great." They walked out into the morning light, holding hands.

7. The Eel (Epilogue) You can check out any time you like, But you can never leave. —Hotel California, Eagles, 1976 It lays there on the bed solidifying its epidermis, from pink flesh to grey skin. It will ossify in a matter of minutes if it's not coated with mucous or put into water. All the guests have dispersed. The clock ticks in the empty house. Its ends have sealed, eyes and small dorsal fins developed, but it's gasping. Elijah picks it up. It's larger than the previous one. Maybe over five feet in length. Surely it will beckon a more pure soul. One not so small and bitter as what was once called Tucker Broderick. Elijah carries it up to the aquarium and let's it slide in. The doorbell chimes. It will take him ages for him to descend the two staircases to answer. The front door creaks open and Sergei is staring at the ancient owner leaning against his cane. He's always a little creeped out by the man the few times he's met him. His snow white beard and long grey hair is incongruent with the short-sleeved leather shirt and pants he wears. He's like a relic from vintage porn websites he's visited: he's a study in black and white. Ashen skin, black eyes that are surprising alive. "Yes, Sergei?" the man inquires. "I'm sorry to disturb you on a Sunday, but I received a call from the parents of my worker. He never comes home Friday and they worry. I see his truck here and wonder if you have seen him. Long brown hair, very tan, blue eyes?" The man blinks at Sergei several times before speaking. "Yes. No, a backpack. Yes. There was a strange backpack in the bathroom. Please, come in." Sergei thinks better of it. The man is large, solid, but old, hunched, and he's concerned with Tucker's whereabouts. "I get so few visitors. Would you share a tipple of wine with me?" They have made it to the dining room level, where a half-filled bottle of white wine sits, surrounded by several liqueur glasses. "I can't, sir. My family is waiting Sunday dinner." "Pity. Let me get the backpack." Since they've gotten to the dining room, the old man seems a little sprier, leaving his cane leaning on a chair. He disappears into the dark of the bedroom. Sergei fidgets close to the staircase. Looks at the curious bull paintings, the large Chinese lanterns in a side room, the play of dust through light streaming from the great room a level above. He wonders about the bulls. Is it accidental that their penises are so pronounced? Sergei is a little embarrassed even thinking about it. The man returns holding Tucker's backpack. His beard is different as is his hair. Streaks of grey run through it that Sergei was certain weren't there before. Maybe it's the light. "Would this belong to the young man you're looking for? I did not look inside." He accepts it and rifles through the contents. A black hair band, black silk shorts, a pair of jeans and a rebel flag tee shirt he's seen Tucker wear. He smells Tucker's sweat and tanning lotion on the shirt. Keys, wallet, driver ID of Tucker with his usual wary smile. "And you haven't seen him?" "No, Sergei. I believe I would have noticed a stray workman wandering through my house," chuckles the man. "He's a young man you say? Maybe he has found a desperate housewife in the neighborhood." If the client is kidding he's not too far off from how Sergei fantasizes about Tucker in his spare time. "Are you near to finishing the roof?" The man pulls out a chair for Sergei. "Please," he indicates the chair. Sergei raises a hand to decline. "We finished. Tomorrow my brother and I clean up." "Then I must pay you." He exits to the room with the red Chinese lanterns, rumples through a desk drawer. Sergei notices the staircase next to the bedroom. He doesn't remember it from when he and Tucker were searching for a bathroom a few weeks ago. The man is suddenly next to him, laying a surprisingly solid hand on his shoulder. His other hand holds a check. The man's beard definitely has streaks of greyish-black where it didn't before. "For you and your workers, with a little extra for you. We must toast to a job well done." The man is about to pour the wine into liqueur glasses. "No, sir. I'm afraid I am not a wine drinker." "Ah. Vodka, yes? You must. One toast. I have delicious Kalashnikov upstairs." Sergei is impressed. He's not had it since he left Kiev. "I must get home soon, though. To my family." "You mean your brother's family." The correction stings Sergei. It also makes him suspicious how his client would know that. He has never spent much time with him, nor does he wish to. "Humor an old man. One toast to a lovely afternoon. It will make the day less solitary for me." Sergei considers again while he holds the check. He feels compelled and acquiesces, and they mount the stairs to the great room. There's two decanters on the silver tray on the coffee table. From the clear decanter the man pours out a good amount in the crystal glasses. "Nostrovia!" "To your health," Sergei says, downing the whole amount at once. It doesn't sit right at all with him. He coughs loudly. When he turns to the man, he's shocked by the transformation. He appears no more than forty, dark beard, not hunched at all but upright and strong. Muscles bulge under his short-sleeved shirt. Sergei suddenly feels a little woozy. The man pushes him back. "Sit, Sergei. Sit." Sergei isn't sitting so much as trying to get his bearings and not fall over. He's sails back onto the sofa. His eyes blur. As quickly as he can he puts his wire-frame glasses over his ears to try to focus. Then, the strangest thing, he feels he's getting an erection for no discernible reason. Looking out the window at a view he sees it cuts down straight to the ocean. It's even more stunning than the roof. He's comfortable, feeling increasingly euphoric. Bells go off. This isn't any high from vodka. He doubts it was vodka. He can't seem to move, yet his dick keeps rising. Blue ocean, his mind drifts, blue like Tucker's eyes. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it, Sergei." Elijah bends over. Unlaces, then takes off one of Sergei's shoes. "Tucker is going to love having a visitor so soon." He unlaces and takes off the other shoe. "Especially one with such a good and gentle soul. I can tell these things, Sergei. I was with the church for a terribly long time. A terribly long time to be held in such servitude. Let's unbind that demon so it can breath." Elijah unbuckles Sergei's jeans and let's his large and growing penis bounce out of his fly. Elijah starts stroking it. Sergei flinches, the last movement he'll make of his own volition. "Oh, you're a virgin. I had no idea, child." His dick is leaking precum like a faucet. Elijah, a relic from ages ago, out of the pages of The Inquisition, slows his stroke to a barely discernible crawl. "No. You're right, boy. We should just sit here quiet for a while and take in the view. Tucker's not going anywhere. And neither are you."

6. Ouroboros Sunrise approaches. There is an oblique orange glow in the southern facing windows. In the early dawn only Riggs and Duncan are left in the tower. Riggs wanted to get Duncan alone and talk to him about the prospects of moving with him to San Francisco should he receive the Artistic Director position for the SF-based company. A teaching and company member position; fight instructor he's thinking. First, though, he wants to see Duncan's professed skills while he's tied to the St. Andrews cross. Brenner excused himself, saying he's tired. As he made his way to his room in the dark, through labyrinthine passageways in these early hours, hearing the echoes of a whip's crack and then Riggs' bound screams from the tower. A pair made for each other, he thinks. Truth is, he wants to be alone and imagine (and beat off to) what Duncan and Tucker felt when they took the eel. Once he finds his room buried deep within the mountainside, Riggs' muffled cries are only background while he concentrates his mind, dick flapping in hand, around the sensation of what a four-foot creature traveling through his body would feel like. He'll bargain with Elijah to have the experience when everyone is up and parting ways in the afternoon, but Elijah will turn him down, telling him it's only meant for a select few. Brenner will leave in a huff, and it will permanently mark him, compel him to find other ways to over-compensate for the slight. But that will only manifest itself in many years to come. Which leaves Samuel, Elijah, and poor depleted Tucker making their way back up to the aquarium room. The men park the exhausted boy back in the cowhide barber chair. Samuel scoops a glass of water from the tank and gives Tucker a much needed drink. Tucker downs the glass in almost one gulp. He doesn't see Samuel dipping into the tank a second time in an effort to slake his thirst. The water tastes odd, is not satisfying his thirst, but he begs for a third nonetheless. Samuel obliges. The other ex-Jesuit has gotten out his barber tools and comes up behind Tucker and massages his shoulders. It's as much tenderness as he needs, and melts into the chair. The electric blades click on. Samuel is spreading foam on his arm. It feels good to have a slow, soothing sensation of fingers going over his bicep and forearm. Elijah's electric blade buzzing through his hair also feels good. He feels he's shedding skin, carefully orchestrated by two men who know exactly what they're doing. Samuel moves to the other arms while Elijah finishes the first phase of denuding the boy's entire body. The chair is tipped back and Elijah sits on a stool in back of Tucker washing his stubble with warm water. He then soaps the scalp and with a sharpened straight razor starts scraping the sides. Now the top. Tucker's totally into it. The more his body is shaved the more alive he feels. Elijah turns his head to one side. Tucker can't help but give in to whatever the men who attend him want. Elijah lays bare one side of his neck, then tilting his head the other way, strips the boy of any remaining scalp hair. The man takes a warm cloth and wipes his head clean. Samuel has soaped the boy's legs and is scraping them clean from thigh to toe. Once smooth, Samuel moves on to his public hair, first using scissors to remove the large swath of dark hair, then after foam is applied, the straight razor scrapes against the grain and makes him new-born smooth. Elijah is busy at his arm pits, making sure there is not one hair left on his torso. Both armpits are clean, then Elijah removes the boy's eyebrows. Both men anoint his body with water from the tank, then turn him over in the chair so his butt is folded highest in the chair. There is a lot of hair to remove back here. Elijah takes the butt crack and the patch of fur at the small of his back, while Samuel works on making his legs completely hairless. When both are satisfied with the result they run their hands over his body, ensuring not one hair remains. Tucker takes a hand and examines himself. He is rock hard as his hands run over the course of his completely shorn body. "Why?" he asks Elijah far back in his brain, as if he's looking up from a hole dug six feet deep. "We are removing the animal you were born into, to become something better, more pure." Samuel applies olive oil to his skin. Elijah joins in. Tucker sees an silver urn pour out liquid onto his chest, his groin, his arms and legs, and the lubricant is massaged into his pours, joints, pits, hole. In fact, as he now sits back up in the chair, an inordinate amount of attention is being placed on pouring a lot of oil into Samuel's hand and then cupped inside his hole. He feels like one slimy fucker and is squirming his hand onto the outstretch palms of the men greasing him up. This is like no other sensation. It's as if he himself feels what it's like to be a greased up dick slipping within a firm fist, that his body is a dick made out of his complete form. He can't get enough of their touch. If they keep up their stroking his head will explode in a volcanic orgasm. First Master Eli bends and kisses him, then Samuel's sunken face bends over and sends his tongue into the boy's mouth. "Time to take him downstairs," Elijah signals to Samuel. As they descend the stairs, Tucker hears the muffled screams of Riggs from the tower. "What's that?" Tucker asks. "A story that's not part of yours. Yours is a much more interesting tail," says Samuel as they enter the master bedroom. They're escorting him cautiously between them, but as they cross into the bedroom sense the boy has no intention of running, which is usually the case. Elijah lays him on the rubber sheets and moves him to the center of the bed. "Ready for one more shot?" Samuel's asks. Tucker nods his head up and down, and then sinks face down into the rubber. "And one for you, brother?" "Give him the same as me. Seven," says Elijah. "He'll lose his mind after all he's had." "The general idea, isn't it?" The men smile. Elijah crawls naked onto the bed. Once he positioned against the headboard, he cradles the boy's head in his meaty palms. "Do you have enough light, brother?" Elijah asks in the dark room who's only light comes from the dirt-covered windows in the back of the house. "Plenty," says Samuel, taking two syringes from the dresser. He takes the vial of speed and fills both syringes to point seven, and takes a third for himself at the same level. Elijah folds the boy's head into his hairy crotch. The boy sniffs and laps his tongue in the bush. "Hold him still." Elijah grips his head while Samuel find one of the three useful veins in his neck. He gets a draw. "Enjoy this, boy. Totally give in to how you feel. You, too, brother," and Elijah holds his neck to the side. Samuel feels for a vein then pops the point into Elijah's neck. Emptying the syringe elicits a deep, massive cough. Samuel sits on the side of the bed and shoots up in his neck, too. Tucker hasn't moved since he's been injected. His breathing is locked and has paralyzed his brain. He suddenly jolts upright gasping for air, then coughs, rasps another breath and hacks again. Samuel reaches out for him and puts his skeletal fingers around the boys cock. The sensation sends Tucker into a tailspin, falling forward bumping his head against Elijah's erect monster. "Oh, fuck, Sir, I want to drain your cock," he says, he brain fried of all thoughts save one: lust. Elijah's eyes are rolled up in his head and speaks from a far away place, saying, "Go ahead, boy. Take it all in." Tucker's head turns as he inhales his Master's meat. "All the way down. All the way." He pushes Tucker down on his cock. Tucker takes it to the bush and Elijah holds him there. Samuel is stroking Tucker's cock and playing with his heavy P.A. causing Tucker to writhe on the slippery rubber. Samuel's feeling his butt, sticking in a few fingers as Elijah sticks a finger, then a second also into Tucker's hole. He's bringing him up to his face so he can see, out of flickering eyes, how Tucker's gape is fairing. With Samuel's fingers and his in the boy's ass lips, they're tearing him apart. His hole is wide open being pulled in different directions. There are no longer men in the room, only three animals. Elijah rips the boy from Samuel who growls at the side of the bed, like a wolf who's dinner's been ripped from him. "Brother, get the speculum. The boy's not going to take my fist as he is." Samuel snarls. He knows he could take the boy but Elijah is claiming ownership, and circumstances being what the are, he has the right to be the one to take the boy. He careens over to the dresser and out of the bottom drawer produces the forearm-length horse speculum. All he has to do to lube it is draw some of the excess oil smeared over the bed, most of which leaks out of the boy's ass, which he does and hands it to Elijah. Elijah has gotten Tucker's ass to face his. His tongue is inside the boy's rectum and his long tongue is licking the boy's inner walls. Soon he will want to see the beginning of a prolapse before he's done tonight and will eat it before the metamorphosis. He takes the huge speculum and aligns it with Tucker's hole. "Boy, don't stop sucking my cock. If this begins to hurt, suck me harder." Tucker agrees in a grunt with Elijah's cock buried in his throat. The speculum's base is held next to Elijah's ear. He begins to slide it in and feels the boy's head bobbing up and down more rapidly the deeper in he goes. He must be feeling discomfort or pain and he pushes it in to its halfway mark, for Tucker's head is at his cock like a jackhammer. Right past the halfway point, Tucker's head collapses across his body, his head's buried on his cock, and he's not moving. The boy shudders lying on top of him. He slaps the boy's ass hard. The smack seems to wake him and he once again is deep throating him. Samuel is sitting crossed-legged in front of Tucker's head. He holds a bottle of poppers to his nose. It accounts for the short pause from the boy who's now very receptive to the speculum's penetration and the enthusiasm of the sucking is at a peak. It's all Elijah can do not to cum down the boy's throat. The speculum has hit a barrier before it's almost in. He signals to Samuel to give the boy another hit. Samuel's raising the boy's face up enough to place the bottle under his left nostril, then his right, then once again under each. Tucker goes back to swallow his Master's cock and luxuriating is the smell of his Master's rancid bush. He pauses in the bush on every decent. It makes his Master leak but doesn't distract him from his objective. The last of the instrument is in and he's now spreading the two duck blades apart. He's got it open several inches. The boy sends out a loud moan of pleasure and torment. Samuel gives the boy another hit then pushes his head down under Elijah's balls and orders him to eat. The boy's head's buried in Elijah's taint and he's rutting like a pig to get down further to his Master's bunghole. "Come here and look at this," Elijah says, entranced. "Flick on the lamp." On his way to his brother, Samuel flicks on a side table lamp, enough to display Tucker's enormous gape. It's spacious enough for Elijah to ram his arm up to his elbow. Samuel can even add his arm and grab Elijah's hand. "Halfway there, brother. We might be able to do this together." "It'll be a welcome first, brother. Let's get this out of him," Samuel suggests regarding the speculum. Elijah reverses the processes slowly so as not to pinch any sensitive internal skin. Once they have it removed, they work the boy around so his head's up at the top of the headboard. They tie his hands. The boy's face is brown from wallowing under Elijah's hole. He seems excited judging by the size of his dick, which is a good sign of success for the metamorphosis. The men tie each of Tucker's legs to the top eyelet at the bottom bed posts so his torso is straining in the air, the better to have direct access to his quite open hole. Elijah allows Samuel to go first while he takes up at Tucker's head with a fresh box of amyl nitrate caps. Samuel greases up his arm and slowly lowers it into Tucker. Tucker cries out not know where he is anymore, only senses what his body is going through. Samuel feels the cobwebs between colon chambers, fine webs that he's destroying as he penetrates the boy. I'm sure if you've ever fisted someone you've felt the heart beats when you've found a new area to penetrate. Your fingers feel like your touching harp stings directly coming from your fistee's heart. Samuel's feeling Tucker's heartstrings once he gets to the elbow. Every few inches the coursing of blood rushes through the thin fibers separating the chambers. Each time he slides into a virginal area, Tucker calls out from somewhere lost inside his body. Tucker's unmoored again since the needle shot into his neck. He has no idea where he is. He barely remembers who. He only knows how much he's enjoying his body being ripped away from him. He feels his legs in the air and a skeleton of a man looming above him. Someone, a man with a black beard is feeding him vapors that allows and encourages the skeleton to drill into him deeper. Each inch the skeleton takes, a memory bubbles up and washes away. The skeleton is scratching at a door like a dog wanted to get in. Tucker resists but the aroma hits his brain not only sabotages his defense but makes him complicit in betraying himself. He shows the skeleton the rift, the keyhole, the clue where he can be unlocked. The skeleton is keen on finding these weakness and exploiting them to his advantage. A memory of the face of his fourth grade school teacher, Mrs. McCullough, the oddest collection of consonants and vowels he'd ever encountered, bubbles up. Her black horn-rimmed glasses, her watery eyes, her times tables and cursive handwriting on the green chalkboard, is right in front of his eyes. Then as a price for the sense of pleasure of deeper penetration, he must choose between her memory or this new pleasurable sensation. He chooses pleasure each time and her face fractures and is swept away to eternity; a new depth of penetration bears down inside his body, replaces self with erotic pulp of mindless ecstasy. There is something telling him to stop the slide but it weakens every moment. Samuel stand over the boy, his arm inside Tucker's hole's up to his bicep. "He's starting to resist. I think he knows what's happening." Elijah rises from cradling Tucker's head and comes over to the end of the bed. He takes a stance next to Samuel. Samuel withdraws his hand. His arm is covered in pink grease with bits of red at his fingernails. "I'll punch him for a while and see if he regresses. Lower that leg." They each lower a leg laying Tucker's back to rest on the rubber sheet, but still leaves his legs hoist mid-way up the post. Samuel greases Elijah’s hairy black arms. Tucker's focusing on him in a way that he hasn't before. He's starting to see the man's not on his side; giving him pure pleasure is a ruse. His eyes are bobbing above a sea of complete pleasure, a last attempt not to drown. There's more at work here that he starts to fathom, that with each new pleasure, a part of himself is traded away. He knows his name but can't remember how he got here or who these men are. He only knows they pleasure him but at what cost? If Duncan's hands were extra large, Elijah's are twice as big. Elijah finds it difficult to make the hurdle through his first sphincter. Samuel quickly cracks a cap and makes Tucker forget what's possible and only allows what's desired. His mind is blank again and he pushes his asslips onto Elijah's closed fist. Once inside it's literally downhill from there. Elijah doesn't stop till he's buried to his elbow. Tucker's eyes are rolled up into his head, as hears Elijah order, "Open your eyes and watch me!" He does. Tucker sees an entire forearm of black hair pull out of him. His ass farts as the air deflates out of him. "Push," Elijah orders. He does, and the man's telling him he's a good boy. That's it, push it out. The man then plows back into him with a force that propels the arm past the elbow. He feels stuffed as he's never felt, feels an object buried so deep a collection of grade school friends he barely remembers show their faces and blow away like sand across a schoolyard. He looks up and sees the skeleton next to him snapping a caplet, holding one nostril, telling him to inhale, while his ass flairs open even deeper on the wrist of black hairs. The man above him plummets down into his gut. "What are you doing to me?" he asks as more with his eyes than with his voice. The man only acknowledges he doing something to him. Grunts yes. Tucker pleads again, and the man explains what he's doing, again more with his mind than voice. He's straightening out his colon. The man greases his other hand and is now alternating his fists and arms into Tucker's hole. His hole will never close completely again once the man pushes both hands in together. He bears down inside him, pushing and straining as deep as both hands will reach. He suddenly pulls both out and Tucker feels his guts following them out beyond his asslips. "Yes!" shouts the man. "Push, fucker! Push it out!" He doesn't exactly know what the man wants but it feels like he's shit or farting, but all he can see in the mirror above is petals of red blooming out of his asshole. The man's fingering it causing bolts of electricity from his hole to shoot to the rest of his body. He's on fire, his asshole is electrified. Whatever he's sacrificing is worth this sensation. He pushes again and the bloom that's coming out of him is being eaten by the man. He's licking not just his asshole but the walls exposed from inside. It's as if he's turning inside out and the more he does the more the man is pleased. He wants to please the man because it's all tied up with the pleasure he's feeling—circular logic, the snake eating its tail. Ouroboros. His guts appear to be shy and retreat well within his colon. The man stands. Both arms in him has stretched his opening wide, allowing the man easy access to pile drive one arm then the other again and again, over and over, in a huge power punch into his colon. Within the rapture, there is a final, vague image he has of standing in a crib. He sees his own tiny hands grip the rail. Two figure are in bed asleep. He loses his grip, and the memory slips away like smoke. He doesn't need the amyl now, he needs the man to destroy his hole. Since he's lost his grip on words, he's mouthing nonsense but the intent still comes through to the standing man. Wreck my hole, begging between each punch, annihilate my cunt, obliterate my pussy. He doesn't even know where these ideas are coming from, but he feels Samuel at his side, playing with his dick and nipples, coaxing him to deeper and darker imaginings. The standing man's in a frenzy, as is Tucker imploring the beast above to delve deeper and deeper into his soul. "That's it, boy. Give up everything to your Master and to His Master." Elijah pushes both arms deep into Tucker, stretching apart his ass, his enormous boulder-like shoulders bulging, veins popping, and then he yanks both arms out at the same time. Both fists pop out bring with them inches of Tucker's intestines. Elijah wraps as much as he can in his mouth and sucks the entire red bulge into his maw. He bites and chews the boy's entrails, gnaws into the center, sticking a tongue deep inside the prolapse. His dick is charged and he holds the prolapse steady and slips in his metal ring, then his cockhead, into the center orifice. He humps the prolapse, holding it like a small animal, while his cock slips deep inside. Tucker's fucked internal and externally. Elijah's rough hands are driving Tucker wild, while the cock buried deep is making him craven. He implores Master Eli to take him. Elijah is jacking his cock in his extended hole like a wild dog, unable to stop, unable to think. He's locked into Tucker as Tucker is with him. Elijah erupts like a geyser flooding the boy's depth with cum, a stream, a river, a tsunami of sperm flushing out of him. He pulls out and his arm travels along the river of cloudy seed down deep into the boy's body. Samuel whispers to him, "Fisters claim the heart of the boy is the goal. Not us—we say it's the soul. Give him yours." Tucker feels Elijah's shoulder resting at his hole. He feels the massive bush of black pit hair tickling his hairless sphincter. There's no fuller feeling he could possible have, no more feeling of belong to someone than this moment. He nods to Samuel, then nods up to Elijah. Elijah feels the boy's heartbeat, then feels the soul surrounding it, grabs it, and rips Tucker inside out.

3. The Aquarium He's backlit so it's hard to make out the face but this is what he can see: his leather cap, with black shiny visor and chain that lays over it, almost scrapes the top of the door; there's a black beard, maybe with a touch of grey; the eyes are deep set and unseeable; leather jacket, black shirt, leather tie, leather pants, leather boots; a black baton that clinks against a ring on his left hand. "Not the kind of house you want to break into," says the figure. The voice is the essence of authority; calm, resonant, deliberative. The voice of a cop who pulls you over; the dread you hear in the doctor who has bad news; the judge who asks how you plead—final, unequivocal, no second chance. "Did you shit on the dining room table?" his first questions. Tucker's compelled to respond but at the last minute is taken aback by absurdity of the questions. "Wait, what?" He's incredulous, ignoring the fact he's naked and holding a box of the man's poppers. The whole situation is absurd. "I, no! I'm working on your roof, man. I'm one of the roofers." "You're naked going through my drawers is what I see. There's shit on my table. And I don’t employ roofers." He waves the nightstick, calling him out of his bedroom. “Let’s go.” "Huh? Dude, I just took a shower and my clothes are missing. That's it. Do you know where they are? I just want to get them and leave." "You think your clothes are in a drawer with my dildoes? I'm not telling you again." He beckons with the nightstick a second time. Tucker has no choice but moves toward the man who backs out of the door to let him pass. "Up the stairs," he instructs, pointing with his stick. Tucker takes a quick glance at the table. Jesus fuck, there really is a pile of shit on it. He smells it too. When he’s a foot away from the man, his fight-or-flight response kicks in and he decides to make a run for it. Naked be damn, he'll choose running naked in the street rather than stay here. He tears past the leatherman who only has to take one step in his direction, grab his ponytail, yank him back and crack the back of his knees with the baton. Tucker's crumpled on the floor. Leatherfuck pulls him up by his hair and tosses him like a doll toward a stairwell between the kitchen and the bedroom. "Up," is all man says. It's not the stairs to great room but through another archway, that, if Tucker has his bearings right, would be leading him into the side of the mountain, which seems unlikely but true. "Up," says the man. "I won't tell you again." Tucker staggers up the steps feeling the backs of his legs. Now he's truly scared. The man pokes his butthole with the nightstick. "Move," he orders. Tucker takes two steps at a time. "Dude," he's whining during his ascent, "I swear to Christ I just took a shower and someone took my clothes. Hey," Tucker says, turning around halfway up the stairs. "Whoever took my clothes probably took a shit on your table. He's probably still here. The door was unlocked, I bet, right?" "It was wide open. Move!" Tucker proceeds to climb but his feet are damp and he stumbles on the last step, falling forward. "Get up and get in that room." Tucker scrambles up holding onto the railing, sees the door the man intends for him to enter. "I bet he ran away just before you came in." Tucker turns the glass doorknob. The room is bathed in blue light undulating in waves filtered through the water of a large aquarium. It's dark except for the aquarium taking up most of the far wall. A small window is cracked open, but it’s on the mountain side of the house so no light comes in. On the other side is a single bed and nightstand. In the center of the room stands an old, ornate barber's chair. "Sit," the man says indicating the barber’s chair. "Please, sir. I apologize. I'm really, really sorry." He doesn't want to go in. The nightstick prods against his butt again. He turns around and pleads. "I just want to leave." He’s afraid he won't come out of this room if he goes in. "I work for you, man. Ask Sergei. Call him. I even asked if it was okay to use your shower and he said it was." The man's physical presence forces him to step backward into the room. Tucker scans the room, sees within the aquarium a large eel slip out of pile of rocks. "Were you in my refrigerator?" the man asks. "What? No. Yes, I drank some of your wine." The man is backing him deeper into the room. He hears the aquarium’s filter hum as he nears the chair. "My wallet's in my clothes. I'm sorry. I'll pay you. I didn’t drink a lot. It had turned, I think." He's totally creeped out by the dark grey eel. It's four feet long and tracking back and forth in the tank. Tucker looks up at the man hoping his eyes look pleading enough, but he's flashing on the cum on the shower glass, the crystal he drank out of and left unwashed, if he put the desk photos back exactly as he found them, the shit that’s not his on the table, how fucked he is in this stranger's eyes. "Sit." Tucker falls back in the chair and looks up to the man's face bathed in the aquarium’s light’s blue glow. His face is broad with wide set eyes. The brows arch menacingly. His nostril flare as anger washes over his face, then recede when his face becomes once more placid. His beard covers everything but pock marked temples and a deeply creased forehead. Between his thick brows a furrowed W forms as he scrutinizes Tucker. He has one silver earring on his left lobe. Tucker's uncomfortably sticking to the chair trying to move back away from him. The large chair’s cold, the brown cowhide’s tacky on his bare ass, and metal arms have straps, which brings him to a new level of anxiety. "You drank yellow liquid in my refrigerator?" Tucker nods apologetically. The man's burst in a roar of laughter. “Hope you liked it, fucker.” His mood’s lightened. He takes off his jacket, then his leather tie and throws them on the bed. "Your cock. I see. Strap your legs down." "What are you going to do?" His mind is racing. What choice does he have? The man's unbuttoning his shirt displaying a chest that’s incredibly ripped. His pecs are boulders. Even his nipples are enormous, unnatural, each the girth of a fingertip. "What was in the bottle?" “It’s keeping you hard for me.” The man's teeth shine blue. "Strap yourself in." "What? Why?" Tucker asks, confused. Looking down he sees straps at his ankles, thighs, waist, and chest. "Legs first," instructs the man. Defiantly Tucker shakes his head no. The man immediately strikes his nightstick down hard on the metal chair's armrest. Tucker barely gets his arm away before the rod strikes with a loud clang reverberating through the room. Tucker makes sure he's not going to swing the baton again, then folds over to take the two ends of the strap at his feet and loops one strap through the metal binding of the other. He does the same at his thighs, waist and then chest. The man sets the stick down with a clunk on a metal tray behind him. ‘Roid freak binds one of Tucker's arms down, once at the wrist and once below the elbow. He then slowly walks around in back of the barber chair and puts his hand on Tucker's bare shoulder. It's the first time he's touched by him and his large, cold digits engulf his entire shoulder, sending a shiver through him down to his erect dick. His ice cold hand runs down his bicep and the man binds his other wrist. "Chem piss. I’m guessing that’s why the dick," he says. His voice is calm, relaxed, even amused. His words are chosen and explicit. "How long have you had your Prince Albert?" he asks. There is a layer of seduction lying between his words, the phrasing, his cold breath on Tucker's shoulder. He comes around back into the blue light and places cold fingers on Tucker's erection, stroking him soothingly. "Almost three years." Tucker's not used to a man touching him. Still, his cock is rock hard. "When I turned eighteen. Sorry, man, can’t seem to lose the stiffy. Had it since the shower. Chem piss you said was in the bottle? What’s chem piss?" The man tilts his head and smiles blue teeth. Tucker is trying the read the man's face. One moment he’s amused, the next angry, and in the next lascivious. The wavering blue light makes it hard to get a fix. His size is obviously intimidating. He's gotta be one of those Gold Gym body builders. Muscles on top of muscles. Veins in the neck when he's pressing rows of huge plates, teeth gritted, grunting. His spread lats makes him look like a cockroach. The black beard hides most of his face, a mask. His eyes are dark, but Tucker’s seen the lascivious look when it crossed his face before. He sees it in Sergei occasionally—a marked intensity that scurries away when confronted, lays hidden beneath the eyes. When he was in high school, he and his friend Reed would lure men at department stores into back dressing rooms when they came across this look. Then on threat of an accusation of molesting a minor, being threatened to be turned over to security, they'd rob the dupes. Once Tucker even peed on one of his victims. Now that look flutters across the man's face, only this time there’s not one fucking thing he can do about it. The man puts a frigid finger through the P.A. and gives it a tug. "You must have had one of the first ones." He unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants letting his pants fall to the floor. He steps out of them. A majestic meaty member flops around, surrounded with a black bush as hairy around his cock as he is hairless over the rest of his body. Smooth cut legs, rock solid veiny arms, slim six-pack abs, crowned by an enormous, thick double zero P.A. jutting out of his piss slit. "Malloy did mine. Did he pierce you? You’d probably be the youngest." "Uh, some girl in a store in Hollywood. Sarah something. I forget." "A girl?" The man examines him skeptically. "There's no women I know doing this. Malloy's the only one I know that's piercing." His nose flairs as he's breathing. "You lying to me again, boy? He doesn't know why the guy is getting worked up. "Uh, no sir. They got a couple of bitches piercing there." He's pacing back and forth like the eel in the tank. "Bitch did your wings too?" "No, sir. Geezer in Venice. Did it on the boardwalk. Kinda used me to draw in customers. Took two days." "You like pain, then?" He’s starting to flop his dick around in his hand, getting it hard. "Not really." "Bullshit. See this pentagram?" He bends his shoulder over to show Tucker. "Hurt like a mother fucker." His dick’s oozing a little pre, grown out now to maybe a good nine inches and still going. "You lay there for two days for that? You have to be one hell of a masochist." The man's up against Tucker's shoulder rubbing his fist and dick against him, with his other hand he’s pushing his head down to his cock. "Not that I have anything against a good masochist." "I'm not queer, man," declares Tucker, snapping his head away from the man’s giant woody. The man smacks Tucker's with his palm hard enough for spittle and a trickle of blood to splat out his mouth. "You calling me a queer?” He takes Tucker’s face in his large hand. “The fuck you're not. The only reason I didn't hand you over to the fuzz right away was because of that tattoo. I thought, maybe this boy might have some surprises in him." The man is holding back final judgment, searching Tucker's face. He's looking at him quizzically. "So tell me—boy who runs around naked in a stranger's house—are you Greek active or passive?" Tucker's lip feels swollen and he's looking at the man as if he's crazy, which he probably is. "What the fuck are you talking about? Your bat-shit crazy." Tucker thinks he might be hit again, but the man's pacing, not nervously, but in thought, deliberating. He stops. His eyes are fixed on the eel watching it swim back and forth. His eyes follow it like a metronome. The whites of his eyes are tinged blue. He speaks, staring past Tucker at the tank, "There's something off about you, boy, which I like. You talk like you’re from outer space. You're not like my other boys. But you will be. We just need to re-wire you." He's now pondering Tucker's dick. "Three years and you're still at a ten gauge, huh?" The man goes to the nightstand, suddenly enticed, decided. He takes out a small box and brings it over to the tray behind the chair. Tucker hears metal on metal, then something heavy hits the tray. "We have a long night ahead of us," he hears the voice behind him say, "but first things first." He wheels the tray around, also bringing with him a stool. "Anyone who shits on my table the night I'm giving a dinner party better have at least a zero gauge hanging between their legs." He shows him a massive piece of jewelry, a thick captive bead ring, one that will in no way fit his pierced channel. “You got a piece of meat where it will hang nicely.” He tugs the pull chain cord overhead and a bare bulb lights up the room. He pulls a lever and Tucker falls backward almost horizontal in the chair. His captor straddles the stool and scoots it close. He picks up a two-inch rod, thin at one end, tapered thick on the other, and applies a liberal amount of lubricant over it. He takes Tucker's P.A., bend it open and releases the small ball that holds the captive bead. It flicks off and rolls under the bed. The man pulls the opened P.A. out through Tucker's hole. He then takes the tapered rod and sticks the narrow end into Tucker's piss slit, feeling around till he finds the pierced tunnel and starts pushing it through. As the rod grows fatter Tucker starts squirming against his restraints. His hands claw at the arm rests, and as it gets to the thickest point he starts yelling in genuine pain. The small nerve cluster area scream out as they're being torn and ripped apart. The man pauses the stretch. "This will get you to a two gauge but not as big as zero. Zero gauge is like getting pierced for the first time. Did you enjoy your first time?" No, please, stop. No, I didn't enjoy it, but it was fast and it was over." The man moves the tray closer and brushes up against Tucker's ear. "Where's the fun in that?" he asks, and continues pushing the rod to its broadest width, lets it hang there agonizingly stretched while Tucker hollers, takes a breath and hollers again. "Almost done." And he passes the object all the way through. "Right on, right on," he praises Tucker who shudders, forcing back tears. The man examines Tucker's face, almost as if seeing him for the first time; searching for who he is, what kind of person is revealed through pain. This is the currency in which the man transacts. "Now, what's this about making America great again?" He reaches up and brushes his hands through Tucker's hair, calming the boy down. "I thought hippies hated America." The man runs his icy fingers over Tuckers face, feeling a single tear trickle down. Tucker’s trying to recover, breathing in diminishing huffs. "I have to tell you, I'm conflicted, boy. I do like something to hold onto when I fuck a slave, but truth is, I prefer them shaved, completely. Tell me, have you been collared and shaved before, freaky boy, with your tattoo and your Prince Albert? You must have had a Master. Maybe a few? A kinky perv that likes to play with stranger’s sex toys, that gets off on nasty pictures of filthy men. You want to be with filthy men like me? Your dick doesn't lie, son." Tucker's realizes he jacking himself in the man's hand, riding his cock up and down through the man's clenched fist. "You want to serve Master Eli?" Tucker stop his jacking, but Master Eli's not having it. He bends over and sucks Tucker's nicely cut dick. Tucker's hand splay out trying not to enjoy it but he feels he might nut any second. "I'm not into it, man. It's cool you are, and I'm not dissing you, but, dude...oh, shit, you’re going to make me cum." Master Eli releases his dick. "French passive. How about French active?" He gets up and offers his half-mast dick to Tucker. Tucker turns his head away. "You're are a tease, aren't you, my hippy-dippy prowler? Either that or you’re conflicted. One thing you're not, is not digging this. But I think all you need is to be opened up. Your limits pushed. Relax your morals. You do uppers? Downers?" Tucker shakes his head. "Not any of that shit. I’ll do molly at a club, sometimes, but that’s it." "You are a strange one, I have to say. Never heard of molly. But I have something that will definitely un-conflict you. They say speed kills." He goes over to the nightstand and opens a second drawer and brings out a syringe. "But I say speed liberates. It has all my boys anyway." Tucker eyeballs it from across the room. "No, definitely not. Dude, seriously, no needles. That's asking for AIDS, nada, no way, not into it. Listen to Nancy Reagan. Just say no." "What’s this AIDS? Nancy? The last governor’s wife, the actress? You come out with the strangest things, I think I want my friends to meet you. You’re a funny...dude. You sound like you're from another planets. But what I have here, son, it going to send you into orbit. Then you're going to belong completely to Master Eli. I guarantee. You won’t believe the things I’ll do to make you feel good, boy. Unbelievable things." The man runs his cold palm down Tucker’s chest to his stiff prick. The man flips Tucker's arm over, taps inside the crook, and jabs the needle in a juicy vein drawing a plume of blood. "Ready for takeoff, rocketman?" "No. Don't." "Just go with the flow, baby. Go with the flow." He releases a complete half gram of speed into Tucker's body. Tucker coughs violently, while Master Eli withdraws the syringe and bends over to lick the trace of blood. Tucker's head’s thrown back, his eyes lose focus, he feels a rush sluice through his body, in his ears, in his heart, in his ass. He alternates between repeating Shit and Fuck. There’s a high-pitched ringing in his ears as he’s rips through a tiny hole in reality that changes his orientation to the world. Wrong is right, hot is cold, Master is God, good is evil and evil good. His eyes focus back on the huge hulk that's in front of him. Thank you, he mouths while his Master takes up a very large two-inch rod, lubes it and sticks it into Tucker's pee slit. He finds the hole and pushes it in as far as the stretch allows. "Daddy's got to hurt you but then it will all be alright. If you want to cry it's okay. Be a big boy and it will be all over soon." Master Eli sports a raging hard on as he push the fattening rod further through the hole. He can see Tucker's face contorting in sweet, blissed out agony. He's fighting the pain as best he can, the drug careening through him is scrambling his senses. "Daddy's so proud of his boy. Almost through. Boy loves how much he penis hurts, doesn't he?" "Yes, daddy, hurt me." Tucker's face is twisted from too many sensations at once, his hands are clawing the arm rests. He's beet red fighting against his bindings and from the initial rush of the slam, his heart rushes blood everywhere. "Wait, wait! Please, it too much. Let me get used to it." "Daddy needs to finish, son. Daddy got lots to do. Daddy wants to show you off with a big boy piercing to the guests. Just a bit more and it's through." He pushes the rod another fraction of an inch, drawing a wail that echoes thunderously through the house, roaring through windows and chimney, through the canyons of Echo Park. A coyote high up in the brush recognizes a wounded animal and howls back an answer. Tucker’s head thrashes against the chair's headrest. Anguish is entwined with the drug, bringing him past shock, laying him out naked to a world with awe that is at once ecstatic as it is destructive to who he is, his logic of desire, where his sexual loyalties fall, what he wants—no—what he needs from now on out of the man deconstructing him. The man sees Tucker fall through another rush of the drug’s powerful pleasure, not only accepting his tormentor along with the administration of pain, but bearing through drug and shock, encouraging Master Eli to hurt him even more. Tucker looks in his face and whispers do it. With that final surrender of his soul the breach is ripped wide open, there is very little blood, and the circular ring passes through his piss slit and through the newly stretched passage. His head is back in a silent scream. "One last thing to do, my hippy boy, my beautiful, debauched intruder, who called me out and debased himself for me." Tucker sees through watery eyes his Master hold up pliers that are closing the thick ring onto an enormous bead. With a pressure that shakes his Master grip, the ball is sealed shut. He’s locked into the zero gauge. The ache is strong in his dick but the agony is starting to diminish. The chair’s straps are loosened and his Master's lips seal over his mouth. He wrestles a warm tongue filled with passion and lust. He's being lifted from the chair, cradled in the most powerful arms he’s ever felt. He utterly surrenders to a Master who will take care of him, provide for all his needs, who's lays him on the bed for the final act. Tucker unmoors himself from time and wallows adrift in the coolness of the turned down sheets, in the aquatic light of this unusual room. He's breathing underwater. His legs float up to his Master's shoulders. Something cold, wet and covered in mucous is being pressed against his small, tight anus. It pops in and he feels it slither into his rectum. He's waiting for it to start to hurt since this is all new to him, the territory virginal, but it doesn't hurt. He likes it, the viscosity’s soothing, his muscles contract and expand, inviting it to flow inside him as deep as it wants. He senses one hand being tied above him, then the other. He wants to be tied, he wants whatever his Master wants. He's being plowed deep and it's invading the most intimate parts of him, where no one touches, where no one knows, places even he never felt existed. So deep he feels his organs rearrange. His intestines are realigning, straightening, his body dictated by some outside force. His body is overtaken with pleasure; it’s no longer him but a primordial version of him. A cloth is tied over his mouth and knotted behind his head. He moans in ecstasy into the rag as the invasion transcends him to his core. He feels one leg lowering off a rock-hard shoulder, then the other, each tied to the bottom of the bed. He feels warm liquid spray across his faces. He sucks on the wet rag tasting salty remnants of warm spooge. He looks up to see Master Eli standing next to his head, flicking the last of his pale seed across his face. Strangely he still feels his entrails being invaded, wonders how that can be with Master hovering beside him. Master reaches between his legs and grabs the end of the eel and squeezes the tail to encourage its ultimate journey through his sphincter. The eel in entirely inside him. It moves forward generating a body wave that slithers up in one direction, and eases out reversing the undulation in another. Back and forth it drills within him. The body orgasms he releases over the next several hours while Master is away, are like none he's ever known or will ever know again. The door closes and he's left breathing underwater, internally erupting in breaking waves, over and over within the blue light.

ABS last night- I saw a really heavyset bearded bald guy all by himself in back corner. He was definitely gruff looking, which thankfully kept the trolls and twinks away from him. I strolled back and nodded, and noticed he had his hand in jeans pocket rubbing his cock. I stood a few feet in front of him, lowered my jeans a bit to expose my ass crack, and leaned onto the wall partition, staring straight ahead at the big video screen in front of room. Sure enough within moments I feel a hand on my ass and a finger finding my prelubed hole. He fingers me a bit and slides my pants down enough for full access. I bend forward a bit more so he knows 100% what I want, and soon am feeling his cock right on my hole. His hands grab my hips and he starts to push in slowly, and I'm sniffing some poppers and enjoying being opened up. He feels thick and keeps sliding in til my ass truly felt full. I never saw it but I'd say he was a good 8 or 9 inches. He bottoms out, and his belly is pressing hard into my back. He starts fucking nice n slow, and reaches around and starts jerking me as he fucks. His thrusts, him jerking me, and the poppers were too much and I start to cum hard, clamping my ass hard around his cock. He speeds up, then thrusts in me one last time before everything stops and I feel his cock spasming inside me. We stand there not moving for a good minute, until his cock slips out of me. Instantly I feel cum running down my thigh. He rubs my stomach and with the other hand feels my cum filled hole, then he zips up and walk s out. As I'm leaving a few minutes later, I see him pulling out of parking lot in a tow truck. Sexy.

I met up with some friends tonight at a gay bar, not looking to hookup, I was just out for some drinks. At one point I saw a guy who was cruising me a bit - he sent me over a drink. I went over to say thanks. He was a very hot guy, a nice build, and at about 6'1", he was a little taller am I. We chatted a bit and after we realized we were a match he asked me if I would like to play. Naturally I accepted his invitation, and as he lived only a few minutes down the road, the game was on. We had not talked about playing BB or safe. As most all the guys I have ever played with from that particular club played safe, I expected the same. I am an ex-boyscout so I had cleaned-up well - just in case I did hookup. Always be prepared! We arrived at his place and went right to business. He had mentioned at the bar that he was packing seven uncut inches, but hadn't mentioned he was about six inches 'round: his fuckin' dick looked like a beer can. It was a welcome surprise but made sucking him pretty stressful on my jaw. We made out a bit, got naked, and he had me service his cock for several minutes. I was thinking we were not going to fuck, that I would just suck him off, and that such was why he had me work his cock for a long time. Then he stopped me saying "Relax, I don't want to cum yet" adding "I wanna fuck you." I was more than happy to hear that. He told me to bend over he wanted to eat my ass a bit. He was a great ass muncher - he really worked my hole. At one point he remarked that he became good at eating ass and getting it ready for fucking, because so many guys had a hard time accommodating his cock because of its girth. I understood what he was talking about. He teased my ass with his cock. I could feel the head of his dick rubbing my hole. All I could think was 'Please, fuck me RAW!' I moaned, signaling how good it felt and he noticed it. He stuck the head of his dick in just a little and then pulled it back out, doing this a few times. Then stopped, and grabbed poppers, lube and a condom from his night stand. Although I thought the use of a condom sucked nut, at least I would get fucked, which was better than not getting fucked. Little did I know what was to transpire. He took a long hit of the poppers and then handed them to me. I heard him playing with the condom wrapper, and as he donned the condom he said "Let's see how this works." He lubed my hole and his cock and started to push in. I don't know why but getting fucked by a guy wearing a condom has always been a problem for me. Maybe it's the increased friction of the latex against the flesh of my tight ass. He put on more lube but still his beer can dick could not really get in. He lubed up his finger and started to work the lube into my hole. After a few tries his dick started to slide in, but the pain was too much. I told him to stop I could not take it. He responded saying "I'll take my time, but one way or another I'm gonna fuck you" adding "There's no way I'm gonna let your tight ass get away without opening it up." I agreed saying "I"ll do what ever I can to take it" and with that I took another huge hit from the poppers and he started to slide in again. He got about half way in and we heard it: the snap of the condom as it broke. He quickly pulled out and muttered "FUCK!" His dick have been slowly sliding in, but the friction on the condom was to much. Inwardly I was hoping he would simply abandon the condom and fuck me raw, reasoning he would certainly be able to slide more readily, and I would certainly love it. He grabbed another condom, put it on, saying "If this one breaks I'm gonna have to fuck you raw!" My ass started to twitch. I was hoped the damn condom would break and that he would follow through on his threat. I took another hit on the poppers and again he started to push in. The pain was unreal. I moaned loudly, doing all the tricks bottoms usually do to take big cock, but I also wanted to stress the condom. It didn't matter. After about five deep thrusts there was another snap - the second condom also broke. His cock lodged in my ass, the broken condom still up there as well, he said, "Fuck man. That was the last condom. You neg or poz?" I said I didn't know. He responded "What do you mean you don't know. Do you let poz guys fuck you raw?" I was unsure how to respond, thinking that if I told him the truth, that I had let poz guys fuck me raw, he might be turned-off and terminate our session. I decided to evade his question and answered "I haven't been tested in several months and I had played bareback with several guys since my last test." Recognizing my evasion, he responded "You didn't answer my question. Do you take loads from poz guys? Do you let them fuck you raw?" He had painted me into a corner. If I responded "Yes" I might not get fucked. If I responded "No" I still might not get fucked. I chose a middle ground saying "I don't know for sure if any of the guys who fucked me raw were poz. I didn't ask." "So, as long as you get fucked, you don't care if the guy is neg or poz?" I replied saying only "I don't ask." During this whole exchange he keep slowly fucking me with his exposed raw cock in my hole. He looked at me and said, "To be honest, the condom was for you not for me. I'm poz." I was laying on my back his beer can size cock deep in my hole. He continued saying "I don't give a fuck. I'm gonna breed you now. I'm poz, but I'm on meds, so the risk is low - but it's there." He held me tightly and keep pumping me as he said this. "To be honest, I was gonna stealth you anyway. All my condoms break, although usually they last a bit longer. I go to that bar anytime I feel like spreading my seed. I always find a bitch like you willing to come here and get fucked. I don't know exactly what's going on, but your super-tight ass fucked up my game." The pace of his fucking increased. He was getting close. "So now I'm just gonna tell you, I'm gonna breed you." As he finished his statement he started to cum. As soon as he was done, he pointed me to the bathroom to clean up and when I was ready he sent me on my way, his phone number in my pocket and a huge load in my gut.

Part 4 The young guy who they called 'the gifter' lay next to Logan as he still high as fuck as 'the chemist' came in the bedroom. He handed 'the gifter' a bag of meth, several points and a bottle of water. The kid quickly prepared a couple points for himself while 'the chemist' fixed Logan's next slam. As 'the gifter' ready to administer his own slam 'the chemist' was about to give Logan his slam. The man in charge came into the bedroom and told Logan that as where his gifter was gentle the rest of the fucking he was about to get would be much rougher since Logan was to learn that his place was to please anyone he was told to please however they wanted. As 'the chemist' administered Logan's slam 'the gifter' was doing his own slam. 'The gifter' coughed out hard and began to enjoying his rush as Logan coughed out hard. 'The gifter' leaned over and kissed Logan as men began to enter the bedroom. Although Logan was the main attraction, 'the gifter' got his share of cock. Logan was kept his and high for 3 days as he was thoroughly fucked. 'The gifter' really wanted to pay attention to Logan. At one point they positioned both boys in 69 as they got fucked. Although Logan couldn't get hard he certainly enjoyed his chock being sucked. 'The chemist' kept Logan high as God while 'the gifter' took care of himself. 'The gifter' knew that Logan would be as addicted as he was and hoped that they could be party buds. After 3 days off non-stop partying and fucking it was evident that he was ready for a hard crash. 'The gifter' asked if he could look after Logan through his crash and the head man told him that he wasn't only supposed to look after Logan, he was responsible for slamming him up again, but this time he wasn't to be fucked. He could have Logan suck his cock. 'The gifter' moved to a back bedroom where they carried Logan as he passed out. The two snuggled up in bed as Logan zonked out. Logan was out could for nearly 2 days.

I think it all depends on the scene. I always appreciate the piss enema, but there was one afternoon at a cruisy park, where I was flying, and a hot blue collar stud just stood back and absolutely soaked me in his putrid piss. I loved it.