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Mr.Benson puts Joey and me to work as both of us are Poz and are very desirable to chasers and stealth condom fairies. At bathhouses, we show up; ass holes are spread open for our toxic loads. We got to colleges Gay frat parties, which are safe only, so we have to hide our Poz tattoos, but we bring our condom that always fails. Sometimes we hear someone came down with the flu. One college newspaper posted that the school has a high number of men who have tested POZ. We get a call from Mr.Benson to come home ASAP, so we both know something is up. When we get back home, he hands us chastity devices and says that he is going to lock us up for the next 30 days. He tells us that we are going to the Bio Hazard Ball; it's going to be a fun time. We see the rules: Tops can not be on meds, and must be Poz then will be tested before entering. Poz Tops can only use these drugs. Caverject Viagra Poppers Tops will ware either wrist band on their left wrist white with red crosses or a Glod wrist band that lets people know they have full-blown AIDS. Bottoms will be negative lockup in chastity will be tested 30 days then two weeks before the event to make sure they are negative. They must go on a liquid diet two weeks before arriving, the only drugs they can use. GHB Meth Poppers Ketamine They can not refuse any Top advances or their load. If you have a condom, you will be removed out from the party. The party is to convert as many bottoms as possible. I ask Mr.Benson how does this party goes, so there are enough bottoms as he is laughing then says there is no limit on the number of tops as they keep the ratio of neg.chaseres to POZ Tops at 4 to 1. There are so many bottoms who want to become Poz; they put a limit on them. They have taken over the whole hotel, and it's so crowded at the check-in line, then Mr. Benson says, let's go this way. They have a separate line for the Poz Tops as we have to get tested. When it's my turn, they ask me my age, and I say 19 he is laughing, and 20 minutes later, I get my POZ wrist band. I see a few with the gold band, as they are like royalty, I see one with the gold band who is about my age and I can see the bulge in his pants. Walking down the hall to our room, I see the doors with this symbol + or - so it's too let you know what you are. Tops can lock their door as bottoms, can not lock their door, must be open all the time. Tops can wear whatever clothes they want; bottoms can only have PINK jockstraps on. There is also a grand ballroom that is for public breeding. The chasers are in a pen like you have cattle, and the Tops pull them out, take them to one of the benches, beds, slings and breed them put a butt plug in their ass then back the to pen.

To start, it might help to tell a little about me. I am basically a somewhat regular person that most people wouldn't really notice while walking past on the street or in the mall. I lead a standard life with nothing really spectacular on outside appearances but out of sight of most folk I have a distinct affection for many alternative and kink realms, and oftentimes the more outside the norm something is, the more I feel attracted to it. This adventure starts on Grindr where I had been chatting with someone (Mark) for a while but had yet to ever meet. His profile originally caught my attention because of his attractive picture, as well as several of the things in his bio including his interest in kink and other activities. An additional aspect that caught my eye was his status which was listed as poz / undetectable. I was negative and we had chatted somewhat in depth about his status, when and how he contracted it, his treatment and so forth and his openness with everything made me feel quite comfortable. While I have played around some (both protected and unprotected), I have tried to be relatively careful while doing so and I have managed to remain disease free in all ways - through having caution in who I meet with as well in the activities we engage in and the level of protection. Mark and I had talked about getting together with some of our conversations becoming very steamy, but I live with family so my place is only available at certain times and his living situation made his place unavailable for meeting there. Between that and our differing availability (he sometimes travels for work) our getting together never happened. It had been a while since I had seen him online then one morning I logged in to find him there which immediately sent a tinge of arousal through my body. I had woke up particularly horny and hadn't played for quite some time so was thinking of masturbating to start the day but really wanted something much more and I sent him a message saying that I was horny and asked if he'd like to meet. I embellished the message to be intentionally enticing and pointed out that it was safe to meet and play at my place right now if he was available. His reply was every bit as enticing as my invite and he essentially told me I better be careful what I asked for because I just might get 'it' because he hadn't gotten off for a long while and was horny. He then added that he had been out of town for a while with work and it would probably be best if we didn't meet right now which sort of burst my bubble. I was turned on by the first part of his reply, but disappointed with the last part so responded with a picture of my bare ass and replied "Do you want to cum - here?" in an attempt to encourage him. He didn't respond for several minutes then a picture of his bare, glistening wet and fully erect cock popped up on my screen and he replied "My cock says yes, but we would need to talk first." His cock picture sent a bolt of electricity throughout me and I replied: "We can chat here *I gave him my address* and would love to meet you. I am free right now." It was another several minutes before his reply. "I will be there in 20 minutes." I replied "Awesome!" then immediately headed to the bathroom to do a quick pre-play cleansing (inside and out) with my heart beating deep and fast. Clean-up went pretty quickly and I was in my sweats and a t-shirt by the time his car pulled in front of the house. My heart continued its rapid beat and in addition I could feel wetness seeping from my loins as he came toward the house. I met him at the door and could sense that there was passion flowing in both directions as soon as our eyes connected. Once inside, I closed and locked the door and led him to the bedroom where the lighting was dim and I had porn playing on the screen at just the right volume to set an atmosphere. He said it was great to finally meet me which I replied much the same, and since he wasn't making any moves I got on the bed and moved to the other side and he sat down beside me. His pictures hadn't really done true justice and his body was even hotter than I anticipated, particularly with his loose fitting gym shorts and t-shirt doing little to hide his physique. It left little to the imagination but I couldn't keep my hand from reaching over to rest on his upper thigh where it slowly moved toward a covered but quite pronounced bulge. Mark's hand came to rest gently on my forearm and as he looked straight into my eyes he said: "We need to have a little talk." "Can it wait for a little bit?" I asked as my eyes looked back into his and my palm came to rest on top of his thinly covered but very evident erect manhood and balls with my fingers tenderly moving upon him. As his eyes closed, his head leaned back into the pillow and it became clear that the talking could wait. His relaxed and awaiting posture increased my desire and I moved around to face him while on my knees and kneeled there with one hand continuing to explore his loins with my second beginning to caress his upper body. His hand remained in place on my forearm but began to slowly stroke as an encouragement for me to continue. As I continued to touch and softly squeeze, his cock grew ever harder and his body relaxed as if in a further invitation. My hand slid downward on his leg and then up once again, only this time it entered between his flesh and his shorts where I cradled his bare balls and engorged manhood. Talking became the last thing on our minds and when his lips parted, it was not to say words but for his tongue to emerge and wet his two lips. I haven't been big into kissing but in the atmosphere of the moment, I found the urge and leaned forward where our lips locked and our tongues intertwined. He appeared to like the kissing too and within moments the head of his cock was covered with wetness as his pre-cum began flowing forth. We both moaned in unison and continued our kiss but as I removed my now wet and slick hand from inside his shorts and attempted to remove his shorts, he pulled his head slightly back and murmured "We really need to talk first." I somewhat sarcastically said a soft "Yeah?" before my lips again enjoined his while I maintaining a downward pull on his waistband. His body seemed to give in and with his eyes fully closed and his tongue softly swirling, his bottom raised upward and soon he was bare from the waist down. I raised up to see his exposed cock and balls and with the rapidly increasing temperatures between us, I removed my shirt and began removing my pants. He leaned up to shed his shirt too and we were then naked together. In seeing his bare body, I was in full and complete in lust. The feeling was likely mutual because as I leaned down to lick his soaked loins, his palm rested atop my head as a sign of encouragement. The taste was truly alluring and just when I thought I had cleaned up every droplet into my mouth, another would appear and his flow never stopped. My mouth then opened and took him inside, starting at the head and working downward until I began to choke. His arousal seemed to increase as I did so and in addition to the hand on my head, he placed a second on my ass cheeks where it began rubbing and squeezing. As his fingertips probed further, he discovered that I was slippery with lube that I had applied earlier after I had cleansed myself. My lips began moving up and down on his engorged cock and I did my best to take it all the way, but I'd softly gag each time it reached the deeper depths. He didn't seem to mind though and perhaps it was a turn on because I soon found his fingers entering in and out of my ass in tune with the movement of my mouth on his cock. With my hands free and not occupied by his cock, I reached for a bottle of poppers and took several deep hits, with only a momentary pause in my sucking. The feeling of euphoria soon overtook my body and evidently my throat as well because I found myself now taking his entire hard cock fully with only an occasional small gag, and from his reaction, he was enjoying it as much as I was. I rose once again and took a huge hit, held it for a short bit then followed with another. I then replaced the cap and moved to straddle his body with my bare ass coming to rest atop his hot and wet cock and I looked deep into his eyes. He began to mouth the word "no", somewhat softly at first but increasingly stronger as I slowly gyrated on top of him. When his cock nuzzled up to the entrance of my hole and my opening began to part, he reached up to take hold of me and said "We have to talk." I looked at him and stopped, my body hungering to go downward, but I waited to hear as he began talking and said that he had been off of his meds during his work trip because he had forgotten them at home. I was conflicted and admittedly a bit scared too, but at the same time my arousal was through the roof - the feeling of exposure and the vulnerability of a poz and possibly no longer undetectable cock probing inside my body had my heartbeat and breathing going spastic. With the length of time he was off of his meds, neither one of us really thought it would be safe to go on, and things had come together and happened in a way that there wasn't an opportunity to research it before we got to this point. In honesty, didn't want to become infected and he didn't want to infect me, but at the same time our arousal had taken us to this all-time high point for both of us. As we were talking about it, I became aware that I was now sitting fully impaled on his rock hard cock - and I could now feel both the soreness of my fully stretched ass and the stress his knob was creating as it was pushing the lining of my inner rectum further within my body. He realized how deeply he was inside too and shyly said that it felt like his cock was leaking and that things were becoming wet inside - but at the same time, was admittedly feeling so very gawd awful hot. As I remained motionless and uncertain, Mark reached down and came back with the bottle of poppers that had worked its way beneath his bottom and was now quite hot from it's confined position against his hot flesh. Almost by instinct, I reached forward, took the bottle in my hands, exhaled completely, removed the top and took multiple inhalations of the warmed and deeply potent scent. Upon completion, Mark took the bottle from my hand and took a strong hit before closing the bottle, his palms coming to rest on my hips where he took a somewhat assuring grip - looking into my eyes with a renewed sense of arousal. I began to raise up, causing his cock to slide alongside my stretched and open hole which gave a wonderful feeling. My lifting also removed some of the pressure on my painfully stretched inner membrane, but interestingly the feeling of being deeply impaled on his cock felt far better than the sense of not being there - particularly after the last dose of poppers I just had. While I think I was intending to get up and to stop - because we could always wait and play another day when we knew it was safer - but my body, the moment, the poppers, and the amazing feeling of his cock being inside my ass caused me to sink back down and to become fully impaled again. "What are you thinking?" Mark said as he looked into my eyes, his palms holding me tight but not forcing me either way. I looked deeply back while moving slowly back and forth on his potentially potent cum pole, pondering for a few moments, then without a further thought, I raised upward, his cock pulling free and watching it wetly slap against his stomach. I then took a position with my bare body beside his, my exposed ass raised slightly in the air and clearly said: "Fuck me, gawd, fuck me hard." As his body rose, I planted my face deep into the bed and it was probably a good thing that I did because when his cock plunged roughly inside me, I gave out a strong audible gasp and the fucking began. I am not sure if the tears that began to flow were from the pain that his hard fucking was giving me, or from the magic (or the fear) of what was happening, but at this point I was beyond any reasonable thinking - things were just happening and I didn't want to make it stop. I really didn't know if things were going to be okay but at this point I really didn't care, I just wanted it to happen - no matter what 'it' was. Mark was fucking me ever more intensely and I took each and every stroke, including the variety of slaps and punches that he began giving me while asking if this is what I wanted (he knew well of my masochistic interests), only to have my body twist and writhe to his motions, not trying to escape but to try to remain in place as it all happened. This went on for quite some time. My body can only take so much though and it reached the point I couldn't take anything more, but before I could say a word, he plunged deep inside and further than any stroke before, his teeth making a hard bite into my shoulder that I knew would leave an eternal mark and as I gave a full throated scream, his body began convulsing and pulsating with his unleashed cum flowing into and coating my worn rectum. His fucking had stopped and I think he was just as exhausted as I was, but he didn't get up and continued to lay on me, his cock firmly lodged and with the bulk of his cum contained inside me but with an ooze of the overflow working its way out too. It was quite a while before he finally pulled his body free and for me to be able to start recovering. I remember how precious it was though in hearing his words about how amazing of a fuck it was, and if nothing else, I felt great satisfaction in knowing that I pleased him that way (which turned me on and only made me want him to fuck me again - soon). I lay on the bed a bit longer with the growing stark realization of the seriousness of what just occurred, which was really sinking in with a multitude of thoughts flowing through my head, some absolutely scary. When we met, the last thing that I wanted was to become poz, but now that we had fucked like that, some of the scary stuff began dissipating and was being replaced with some type of wanton desire. The fuck was like nothing I had ever experienced in my life. If nothing more I am filled with a cherished (and in some ways physically painful) feeling, and having the uncertainty involved is making it even more intense. While time will tell what the ultimate outcome of this play will be, I found that my play with Mark was very much on the edge compared to anything I have done before and visiting the edge is something that I find myself wanting to happen again - particularly if it carries an euphoric and true degree of risk.

I am in an open, loving and supportive relationship for 28 years now. We are married. Our relationship has always been open. I have a lot of sex with other guys. I host sex parties several times a month. And it works. I think the reason is because we are both secure in ourselves. There is no jealousy. We have a wonderful relationship. And living in Palm Springs, I have a lot of friends in the same situation. The idea that you cannot have a successful long term open relationship is bullshit. While there are many factors that go into it, communication is the key. We both understand that life is too short to keep each other from having fun and exploring ourselves. I think too many guys place their insecurities on the other guy instead of dealing with it themselves. I am not saying an open relationship is for everyone. If you and your partner are into monogamy, great. However, there are a lot of us who like and enjoy an open relationship. And it works.

I left the toilet clothes in hand and butt naked. My cock still hard and dripping. I was a little torn between wanting to watch him knock up some 18-year-old and getting cock up my ass myself. But my quivering ass made up my mind for me. My ass still felt the assault from that AIDS daddy in the restroom. Having his cock up my ass for just a few minutes pounding away coating my guts with his toxic precum for just a few strokes made me uncontrollably horny to get fucked by anyone. I wanted to cock up my ass. Any cum, lots of cum, from anyone who would do it to me. I was really hoping the rumors I had heard about this place in Evening were true. The sun had set but the night was clear and the moon was pretty close to full. I walked to the edge of the woods and stood there gently stroking my cock before I walked in. Giving my eyes a chance to adjust to the change in light. I looked back toward the toilets. I saw the shape of a young guy moving towards the toilet. He was stripping off his clothes as he approached. When he got to the door he tossed his clothes in some shrubs next to the door. I heard the squeak of the door as he entered. I don’t know what possessed me to do what I did next, but I walked back over to the toilets and pulledthe kid’s clothes from the bushes. In the light I could tell that his clothes would fit me OK. There was a pair of basketball shorts that would be a little snug but not bad. There was an oversized T-shirt, perfect. And a jockstrap. I held the pouch to my face and sniffed deeply. Unmistakable scent of teenage boy underwear. I had smelled it enough time with my own two boys. I knew what teen boy cock smells like. I slipped on the jock. Tossed my clothes into the bush where his he been. And took his clothes with me. I stepped onto the trail at the edge of the woods. I walked down the path able to discern shapes and movement in the half light. There were other guys in the park. I don’t know where they had come from because there were no cars. There must be another access to the park. I walked along quietly gingerly until I got to a spot I recognized. It was a spot where almost 3 years ago I had been pozfucked by a hot young guy. The spot where my quest for AIDS started. I stepped off the trail and took a few steps towards the figure out the dark. He started moving closer to me. As he got within a few feet we recognized each other. It was the kid who passed me almost 3 years ago. And he recognized me. ” hey there,” he said “ Haven’t seen you around here in a while. Back for more?” He reached up and grabbed my cock. Pulled me in for deep kiss. I wrapped my arms around his body and he felt smooth but kind of bone. He pulled away and I looked him up and down. Above his right that was a biohazard symbol. He had a slightly wasted look. He reached up and grabbed my cock. Pulled me in for a deep kiss. I wrapped my arms around his body and he felt smooth but kind of bony. He pulled away and I looked him up and down. Above his right path was a biohazard symbol. He had a slightly wasted look. We started talking and making out. I dropped to my knees and took his cock into my mouth sliding in deep as I could into my throat. While I was sucking him he confessed to me that the guy in the toilets had converted him a month before he fucked me. He told me I was his first breeding after he was positive. He also told that he had full-blown AIDS at this point. That turned me on more than I could say. I slid his cock deep in my throat as I could. Milked it with my throat muscles. He moaned grab the back of my head and started face fucking me. Slamming his cock deep into my throat. After a few minutes he pushed me away. ”Fuck dude” he said,”you’re an amazing cocksucker.but I want that ass. I want to give you my virus.” He pulled me up and pushed me back around up against a tree. He squatted down behind me and spread my ass cheeks. He buried his face in my ass, tonguing my hole, working it in an out.I was moaning like the slut bitch that I am. Begging him to pause my ass up. Begging him to slide his aides babies up into my guts. ”Oh fuck dude. I want that ass so bad.” he muttered. He stood and unceremoniously plunged his cock deep into my ass all the way to the hilt. I screamed and moaned at the same time. He rested his cock in me as he slipped a poppers bottle under my nose. He held my nostril shut and I breathe deep. Reached up and held his hand in place. I breathed in three or four times in that one nostril and then switched. I breathed then three or four more hits in the other nostril. I was flying high as his cock started pistoning in and out of my hole, Tearing up my guts and banging my prostate hard. I was moaning and begging for a seed. Begging for his aids babies. Begging for his virus in my bloodstream. Then I started begging him for demon seed. Begging him to bring me over to the Darkside. In my mind all I could think was that I was sacrificing my ass to pure evil. My cock was hard and rubbing up against the material of the jockstrap. As the kid fucked me I shot a big load into the pouch of the jockstrap. And as my ass clamped hard for my orgasm his cock began to spasm in my whole. He grabbed my hips hard and pulled me as close up against him as he could get. Pushing his cock as deep in my body as it would go. Past my second sphincter. Deep into my guts he poured his aids. I can’t explain it but ass his semen filled my body a kind of shadow fell over my soul, fell over my vision. Not only was there no going back at this point, there was no desire to. There was only desire for cum. There was only desire for pleasure. There is only desire to please anyone with a cock. Deep in my soul I knew that I had given myself over completely to cock, cum., and pleasure. He stroked his cock in and out of my ass a few more strokes. He rested against my back. His cock gently slid out and he stepped away from me. I never saw him leave because as soon as he stepped away someone else stepped up and another cock slid into my hole. After three more cocks and three loads in my ass I finally left the woods. Cum was running down my legs but I didn’t care. I felt so complete so satisfied. As I walked by the toilets I checked the bushes. The clothes were gone. Some random kid who just got an ass load of aids was walking around in my clothes. It was then I realized all I was wearing was the jockstrap. As I approach the road I slipped on the shorts. And jogged my way back to my car. I never bothered to change clothes or to put on the shirt. I just threw myself in the car and went directly to the porno store And spent the rest of the night worshiping cock and accepting seed from anyone.

*Cums inside* ... I asked you to pull out ... Oooops, forgot to turn my hearing aid on! 😈 Goodness, if my Dick is inside a boys cunt, that is it, it is then a done deed that I WILL be ejaculating inside of him. If he is not prepared to be inseminated, then he should play with tops who use condoms. Would you place a delicious looking slice of cake in front of me and tell me I was not allowed to eat it?

A bit of background on me and my situation, For alittle less than a year now I have been seeing (servicing) a very dom older black man. Ive become completely submissive to him, and he has used me several days a week since we first met. He also has me service some of his buddies on a fairly regular basis. I spend nights at his place sometimes, being used by 5 to 8 other black men throughout the night. Since the lock down about a month ago, he had to stop doing things with multiple men and weekend parties. He said to make up for it that me and him would be spending the lockdown together. I am working from home, on call, but not many hours of the day have to go into my work. He has been staying at my place almost every night for a month, I have not worn clothes in a month, except for a collar. I service him all day, while he kicks back, watches tv or plays video games, I will be sucking and licking him. He has also always been into me drinking his piss, which I have always submitted and done. But I admit, the first week or so of him staying here was rough, I drink ALL his piss now. It was a bit much to get used to. At times I think to myself how fucked up that is, but I cant help it also turning me on. Then theres the thought of how I have swallowed on average at least two of his loads, every single day for a month. Over the last year I have come to realize his submissive I am, and he has certainly driven that home, but being nothing but a sex slave and naked for a month now, its a mind trip. When all this crazy covid stuff is over, he said I should find a job where I can perminately work from home like this, and that if I do, he will take all this even further, and make me more of a sub that I ever could imagine.

Perspective, eh? In a D/s dynamic, as a sub if I have a Dom controlling and organizing who breeds me, it strengthens my connection to Him because i think of any other guy as an extension of Him, kind of like He is using them like living dildos to fuck and gape me. Though I know everyone isn’t wired that way

Older, Not Wiser The show on the TV ended and the next episode looked pretty lame, so I turned off the TV and picked up the laptop to do a little surfing. I hit most of my usual hookup sites and had a couple emails at a few of them. There was one from the older guy and I opened it first. "sorry for not replying sooner, been busy. Yes, I'm sure. You up for meeting?" the message read. I wasn't sure I wanted to deal with an older vanilla guy, but I figured it was worth getting a little more info. "maybe. u on prep?" I sent back. The little green dot next to his profile told me he was online and I wondered if I would get a reply back. It was only a couple minutes and I heard the "ding." "What's that?" he had replied. I chuckled to myself wondering just how experienced this guy was. "a drug" I replied, being intentionally vague. Less than a minute later I had his reply. "I don't do any drugs other than pot on rare occasions. Do you?" he asked. I shook my head and laughed. I responded "pot 4 me 2." I knew this guy was in way over his head and yet my cock got hard thinking about dumping a toxic load or two inside him and letting fate decide what happens. Once he was poz he could become the sex pig he's always wanted to be. I hadn't gotten another message, so I sent one "when u want to meet?" A few other sites didn't generate any interest and I was about to give up when I got a message back from the older guy (phnx469). "Sorry, wife interrupted. meet @ 6pm?" he said. This was getting more interesting. Was this guy yet another married bi guy craving poz dick? I sent back "ok. where?" and he answered right away "20th floor by elevators." Chuckling to myself I wondered if he was college boy's dad. Yeah, there were over a dozen other condo's on the floor, but it was really hot to think I might have a chance at knocking up a real father and son. Coming back to reality, I replied back "u going 2b alone?" "Yes. Wife n kid will be shopping" he replied. I licked my lips and typed out "ok." With a few hours to kill I watched some porn and then showered. While he wanted to meet at the elevators, I took the stairs instead. I felt a little more winded than normal for climbing nine flights, but put it down to my more sedentary life locked up at home and with fucking my only real exercise. "Gonna have to come up with a workout schedule I can do at home" I thought as I opened the door. Looking down the hallway, I spotted someone near the elevators and walked calmly towards them. As I approached he seem startled that I didn't come via the elevator. I wasn't really sure that it was him since the pictures were of a smooth guy and I could see chest hair popping out of his tank top. His legs showed a decent amount of hair on them below his jogging shorts and he had several days growth on his face. "Phoenix?" I said quietly and he nodded. One thing I don't like is guys sending out pictures that are either old or different on how they look. A new piercing or tattoo is fine, but 30 pounds heavier or like in this case, much hairier, is deceptive advertising. He said "Follow me" and started walking down the hall. He wasn't walking towards college boy's condo, so another fantasy was gone and I tried to figure out what I was going to do. One option was to turn and go back the way I came but that seemed like a cowardly way to end this. I followed him down the hall and was surprised when he opened the door to the other stairwell. As soon as we got inside, I put my hand on his shoulder and said "Stop." Phnx469 seemed to be surprised. In a hushed tone I said "What's the deal? Your pictures don't really look like what I see right now and you aren't even naked yet." He stared back at me a moment, looking confused. I flicked my finger over the tufts of hair poking over the neckline of his tank top. "Oh that. Yeah, my wife wanted me to shave my body hair and that's when the pictures were taken that I used on the site" Phnx469 said. Pushing him against the wall, moving about six inches nose to nose and no where near a good social distance, I looked him in the eyes telling him "Dude, that's not cool. I don't mind hairy guys but you clearly are showing a smooth guy on your profile. What else is totally wrong?" He was nervously shaking and I saw him try to speak, but nothing was coming out. On the third try he mumbled "Nnnnnothing. That's the only thing that changed. I... I... I hated shaving it all the time." I realized that I may have given him that "try kinkier stuff" goal accidentally by getting a little dominant with him. That wasn't my intent, but it helped get my point across and I told him firmly "OK, that's your one and only fuck-up. If anything else doesn't check out, I'm gonna be outta there and you're never getting another chance. Understand?" He nodded and I backed up, letting him get by and head down the stairs. We only went down one floor and ended up going into apartment 19J. I looked around and chuckled to myself, thinking I was suddenly in some grandmother's apartment. Lace was everywhere - on tables, on the curtains and on the 'art' on the wall. All of the furniture looked like it had been stolen out of Queen Victoria's castle. I hoped it was his wife's style choice but at least one of these pieces was probably going to have a cum stain or two on it soon. I gently guided him towards the sofa and told him to strip. "Bed?" he asked and I said "Nah, this looks like a better place. I can watch the door in case anyone comes home." "Let me get a towel" he then said. I chuckled and told him "Just don't make a mess and you'll be ok" before I put my hand on the back of the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down. I raised my foot and pushed them the rest of the way to the floor as I said "Suck me quick before I see how that cheating ass of yours is." It wasn't a bad blowjob but nothing that was going to make me shoot right away. He knew how to do it, unlike a lot of straight or bi guys, he was just nervous sucking cock in his living room in full sight of the door. I rested my hand on the back of his head, which got him to take more of my stiffening cock into his mouth. He was struggling with the thickness but was doing a good job of keeping his teeth off my shaft. Wrapping both hands around the back of his head, I eased my cock deeper until it hit the back of his throat. He began gagging right away but I held it there a few moments before letting up and allowing him to breathe. "Oh fuck! I don't know if I can take that" he gasped out. "Oh, you will. If not down your throat then up your neg ass" I replied, pushing back in. It went deeper this time and I gave a little shove just before I pulled my cock out. He stood there staring at my spit covered cock and then looked up at my eyes. I knew he was having second thoughts but at this point I was committed. Unless he was a really bad fuck, he was going to get fucked and loaded up with my special DNA. Rubbing my cock over his lips as he looked up at me, I wanted to feel his tight pussy stretching around my cock. Letting go of his head, I grasped his arm and pulled him to his feet, turning him around and giving a gentle push to the corner of the sofa. He kneeled on the floral fabric cushion, bracing one hand on the arm and one on the back of the sofa. I knelt down and pried his hairy ass cheeks apart, pressing my face in between and rimming his hole. He was clean but there was the faint taste of lube so I didn't dig my tongue in any deeper. I forced some spit in though and based on the quivering of his sphincter he was relaxing a bit. "Perfect" I thought to myself and stood up, dragging my cock along the spread crevice until it found it's next target. Pulling the rest of my foreskin back, I pushed the dripping tip inward until I felt it give. Phnx469 started to groan loudly so I leaned forward and put my hand over his mouth. "Fuck, you're tight. Relax or this is really gonna hurt" I whispered in his ear. Adding more pressure, the further in I went the louder he yelled. My hand muffled some of it but I was glad we were not in the bedroom near the neighbor's apartment. I gave the side of his head a whack with my other hand and said "Relax, damnit!" His grip on my shaft loosened a little and I got another few inches in. "Is this the first bare poz cock you've taken?" I asked. "Mmhmm" he groaned out. "Good, then let's make this a memorable fuck" I replied, rocking my hips back and forth. I plowed a minute or two and then pulled almost out and dripped some more spit on my cock. He probably had everything setup in the bedroom, lube and maybe even condoms on the night stand, towel on the bed and maybe even a hidden camera to record the deed. But I was going to do this my way. Thrusting my hips, I went back to slowly plowing his tight hole and opening him up. He stayed still and while tense, he wasn't fighting my dick. I don't know if he got tired or relaxed more but after a couple more minutes his hole loosened its grip slightly so I could drive in easier and faster. The groans and grunts from him also had a less strained tone to them so I uncovered his mouth and moved both hands to his shoulders. It gave me a good stance to fuck him harder. I still hadn't given him all of my cock, it kept bumping into his inner ring and making him grunt but I hadn't broken through yet. Moving back a few inches, I changed my angle of attack and started digging the head of my cock in different directions. I knew the second I hit his prostate from his loud moan and the quivering of his sphincter around my cock. Surely he was leaving a nice wet patch of precum all over his wife's flowered couch. His cock wasn't the only one that was flowing precum. His hole was getting juicy and giving off those sloppy pussy sounds I love to hear. Part of me wanted to keep fucking him until his family came home and found him getting fucked by a stranger but I didn't want to deal with the drama. I drilled him harder for a few more minutes and then slowed down. I looked over his shoulder and on the table next to the couch was a picture of him, a woman and a teenage boy. "That your family?" I asked, grinding my hips on his ass. "Yeah" he said with a worried tone. I just chuckled and began thrusting again, turned on by him looking at his wife and kid while some stranger barebacked his cheating cunt. My balls started to tingle and I knew it was time to fill him up with my tainted seed. Shoving in hard, I broke past the inner ring and phnx469 let out a loud yelp. I dragged my cock slowly back and rammed in again garnering a painful "Oh fuck!" One more shove and I couldn't hold it in any more. The first few spurts fired off as I was shoving in and the next few were planted deep inside him. He moaned out another "Oh fuck!" while I growled breathlessly "Take that fuckin' poz load!" Each throb of my cock pumped more virus filled semen into his ass and it felt damn good. Rolling my hips a few times as the last few shots of cum pumped out made sure that his guts were painted with a thick coating of my cum. We stayed connected for a couple minutes until we were both breathing normally and my cock had started to soften. Slowly, I pulled out and saw a glob of dark pink cream run out of his stretched out hole, off his balls and on to the cushion of the couch below. As I backed away, he slowly stood up, his cock still hard and dripping the last remnants of his neg load. The back corner of the sofa cushion was wet and creamy as well as the seat cushion where he dripped while I fucked him. The scent of cum permeated the air and I knew he was going to have a hell of a cleanup job before his family got home. I picked up my shorts and put them on, grabbing his shorts and mopping the sweat off my face. Tossing his shorts at him, I started walking to his front door. "Thanks, man. You got a good ass and I'm sure that won't be the last poz dick you take" I said over my shoulder. Opening the door, I began walking down the hallway to the stairs at the other end. Just after I passed the elevators, the car arrived and out walked a woman and her son. They both headed in the other direction and I almost burst out laughing. Phnx469 wasn't going to have time to clean up the mess on the couch and he might not even have any clothes on. He really was going to have an interesting evening.

#8 Half Swedish & Half Mexican switch. 5ft 7 120LBS. black hair brown skin I have a 4 GA. P.A and other body piercing.

Me too, bloody hell. The bigger he is gaping the better. And I'd be inside of him like a whippet, enjoying fucking my man's loose warm cunt with all that other cum sloshing about. 💦👅💦

A while back i commented on here how i knew a hot guy for about 2 years that i had met on grindr. And for those 2 years he always fucked me with a condom . His dick is amazing a good nine inches or more , thick and big ballz . Think Rocco Steeles dick exactly like that no lie! But he always used condom i hated that and he never kissed or made out . With him it was always a quick one nite stand . He would come to my place and out the door in 10 mins . It got to the point i wasnt even enjoying it anymore so i stopped replying to his texts . Then yesterday he texted me out of nowhere after knowing nothing about him for probably more than 2 months. He said he was really horny and hadnt had sex in 2 months. I tought eh what the heck i also been really horny and havent had sex since all this quarantine shit started . I live in los angeles California were they been really strict with the lockdown . So i was really horny and needed something up my ass BAD!!! So even tho i knew he used condoms i was so desperate i told him fuck it come over. Ive got deep cleaned enema and all and called him over. When he showed up to my door my jaw dropped . I mean he was already good looking now he was even better. Hes tall about 6'4 nice worked out body he cuban/Mexican and has a nice full beard . Just how i like them . Im short 5'6 skinny twinkish ,smooth bubble butt so latin men like him are my favorite. Once we were in my roon we both instantly got naked and laid down on my bed. And for the first time ever in 2 years he pinned me down against the bed and started kissing me passionately he stuck his tongue down my throat and made out real good . He then started kissing my neck and going down and sucking on my pink nipples and bitting them again first time he ever did those things. What took me by surprise was that he also ate my pink smooth hole for the first time ever. Then i sucked him off he got rock hard then we 69ed for a while he ate my ass out while i sucked his dick . So he then put me doggy style and i tought UgH he gonna put on the condon now. But nope he for the first time ever sticked it in raw and with no lube only spit. Fuuuuck it Fucking hurt but felt so good cuz like i said his dick is huge and thick . He fucked me 4 times in that day every way and position imaginable and shot all his loads real deep inside me . It got to a point he was actually making love to me. It wasnt like before were it was a quick 10 minute one nite stand and no kissing. This time it was very different we made out while he was fucking me and he kissed all my body and made me hickies all over my neck and on nips . He was telling me how he always wanted to fuck me raw but never asked me because he always tought i was gonna tell him no. So after we were done i told him in available every day at what ever time. Since i live alone and working from home. He told me im also available every day 24/7 . He now gonna come over every day. Yum cant wait ! I guess something good did come out of this quarantine

I have had a few boyfriends whore me out and I loved it every time. if your boyfriend is a cumdump that loves taking anonymous loads from strangers then thats what he was born to have done to him. the first boyfriend started taking me to the bathhouse to watch men fuck me. first one or two then more and more. soon he started whoring me out online and taking me to guys places to watch them fuck me. sometimes he couldn't watch so he would wait outside for the guy to finish using me then take me to the next man. the second boyfriend who whored me out did the same but would also take me to the porntheatre, strip me naked and offer me to EVERY SINGLE man that came in. trust me, if your boyfriend is even half as slutty as me he will love you for whoring him out. the more men the better. the dirtier the better. thats what pussyboys are for. have fun getting him used

If I will have a relationship again, it must be open. Being a bareback whore is the point of my life. I hope, my future boyfriend will force me to have sex with others.

“Stop fucking flinching. Take it like the worthless faggot I always knew you’d become.” I could barely see straight through the fog of my high. It wasn’t anything hardcore yet that night, but the alcohol and edibles, paired with some fresh poppers and 8 loads earned deep in my cunt had me lost in pleasure and submission. There I was: ass up in a motel, taking anonymous loads… and it was him forcing my hole open. I knew his voice. It was the man who started it all. It was David. Again. 10 years ago I was a condoms-only college kid with a fantasy to submit. And then he showed me what it meant to really get used. What it meant to give myself to a real man. What it meant to regret it. And here he was - 8.5 thick inches pulsing deep inside me while he wrapped his hands around my neck and choked. 10 years ago I wouldn’t have recognized the shell of a faggot whore on that motel bed. Hell, I barely recognized him that night. As this beast of a man tore my hole open yet again, I realized just how far I had fallen. I was leaking in my cock cage, begging, and crying. But to him? I was just an object. No different than the object he’d raped 10 years earlier. And we both knew it. “Cmon, faggot. Put your mouth around the barrel of the gun. I want to play a game.” — 10 years earlier, and I was 20. It was the summer between my sophomore and junior years of college in Los Angeles, and I’d grown more and more comfortable with my sexuality. I was a good looking guy: nearly 6’0, Italian blood, dark features, hairy and tight body. I could fuck any college kid on that campus, but it just didn’t quite scratch that itch. I needed to get used. Or at least thats what I fantasized about when I jerked off. And “getting used” seemed to be getting darker. Rough fucking had become verbal fucking. Light bondage. Slapping. Pain. I needed it to be kinkier and kinkier to get me off. I found myself falling down the rabbit hole, searching for boys crying, having forced orgasms, and — and it made me hard to even type it into search engines - getting raped. I wanted it. Or I thought I wanted it. It all sort of blurred together as I busted orgasm after orgasm to the kinkiest and roughest porn I could find. But I also knew that it wasn’t realistic. Real rape wouldn’t be ‘fun’. Real rape couldn’t be planned. Real rape was just a fantasy. But that didn’t stop me from being a tease. And thats when David first came into the picture. I’d met David online. He was clear from the outset: he didn’t want my name, he liked to fuck holes as objects, it would hurt. I did not matter to him. And I busted a load that first night we chatted - a huge, thick load. And then I quickly signed off. I did to David what I did to all these guys: I teased. I played out my fantasy to earn my own orgasm. Days and days. Countless orgasms. He took me deeper in those conversations, deeper than I knew I could go. He told me he whored boys out. I came. He told me he came from seeing fags cry. I came. He told me he beat a man nearly to death. I came. He told me he wanted to do it again. I came. This went on and on. Until the night that I let my 20 year old sex drive get the best of me. I agreed to go to his place. He told me it would be rough, but that I’d be fine — that he knew so many of my desires were just fantasy. He told me he got it. He told me I’d enjoy myself - that we’d have some fun. And I trusted him. My dick was leaking, my hole was pulsing, and I was speeding down the 405… until I was there. Heart racing, dick hard, skin moist from nerves, adrenaline and sweat. I was there, knocking on his door. That knock would play out in my head for years to come. That knock was the start of a slippery slope — a slope that would ultimately lead me 10 years later, blackout in a trashy motel, throating a 9mm pistol, effectively destroyed no matter the rules of his game. But that night 10 years ago? I just thought it was going to be some quick, rough fun.

I wonder if guys are trained by their (normal, straight) peers to be monogamous, at least EXPECTING the OTHER to be so? That would then make us 'conditioned' to feel 'weird' about having our significant other 'violated', fucked, and inseminated for erotic purposes. Our gloomy afterglow regrets may be about LOSING CONTROL and allowing in 'competition' and trouble. All seems hot in the moment of passion but when the nut is gone, the seedy reality hits them like a nagging hangover. I wonder! I recall feeling AWFUL and violated in my amateur beginner phase, still obsessing about 'love' and monogamy with 'Mister Right'! It was hell when I saw my estranged BF take off with other guys, knowing full well that as he disappeared into his place, the hotel or whatever with him, a hostile contender, the nemesis, he was getting fucked: raw and reckless! Getting inseminated by 'that jerk', that total stranger, that smooth-talking hustler who somehow 'outbid' me in the mating game. Jealousy and anger consumed me and me thinking 'it can NEVER be the same again after this'. Knowing that the stranger's DNA was marking 'my man' as 'no-longer-mine'! Weird trips our minds play on us! Talking about kinks and tolerated behavior: One badass 'stealther' from this site whom I talked to on the phone disagreed with my 'open whore' policy my man and I developed. "IF I HAD A BF... he would NEVER be allowed to let somebody else fuck him!" Hinting that extramarital sex means that we have 'marital problems'! His one-sided cheating on a conned sub, yes! St@#lthing yes, but mutually agreed on whoring no! Go figure! Well guess what buddy; you don't have a BF and I'm going strong after ten years and even better since we agreed on 'whoring each other out'. I recall the first time I let a stranger fuck my man in front of me: me intimidated and in awe all at the same time. He was partial to my man and probably could have done without me there. He wanted to know if poz-talk was ok. I didn't even know what he meant. I took pictures of the stranger's cock slipping in and out of my man's hole, eventually nutting and delivering a cream-pie inside and on his hole. Unlike others (in the regret phase) , I felt in incredible sensation of arousal, one that had me crave for more: more cock, more sex, more promiscuity and lewd talk. I even took pictures of the raw insemination and licked the dude's cock as his throbbing cock-shaft eventually pulsed a load into my man. The picture on top of my profile is from that day featuring a stranger's cock on my man's DNA-juiced hole. The pictures and every event like that since turn me on enough that I can jerk off to it on the long COVID nights. Sometimes as my hubby and I have sex we tell each other about our exploits THAT DAY, or the intimate details of fucking with other dudes and call each other 'slut' and 'whore' as we fuck and jack off. So fucking hot once you both have completely embraced total promiscuity with your bro!

Voted with #7. I would love to have voted #9, but of course I am blessed with hands and forearm(s) to stretch a hole to my greedy satisfaction. I will add to the size that my Dick happens to have a strong curve when fully erect, and have been given feedback on how it glides over and into the prostate causing the pig I am fucking intense pleasure. I feel very blessed to have that curve! 🍆

See, if my BF was like this, I’d be so proud.

just got fucked by a guy with an actual 12 inch cock. thick and meaty. how do I know it was really 12 inches? he has a ruler tattooed on his cock. told me he had to take some viagra and an injection of something to keep it rock hard during the inkwork. pretty meaty too but it slid in fairly easily so he said "damn you really are a slut. it usually takes me awhile to get into a fuckhole. it helped that he got my ass after a fairly busy night. took him so long to cum but damn when he did his cock got rock hard and I could feel it pulsing inside me

I love to sit on cocks like this. Until they can’t hold back and shoot deep inside.

My exact same sentiment. Just that I am a top

I have never had a condom in me. I went from a long term relationship with my step dad to the man that would ultimately poz me. My situation was that I knew he was poz and he said he didn’t want a relationship with anyone that wasn’t poz. I convinced him to breed me and three months later I tested poz.

I think he was just looking to suck, but I went from jerking his cock as he blew me to rubbing his ass and fingering it and pushing some spit snot in to moisten him up. I grabbed his balls so he couldn't stand up, and went around back and shoved my cock in fast before he could say no. He let out a moan, but I was balls deep and fucking him before he told me he didn't like to get fucked. "It's ok buddy just relax" I said as I STILL was fucking. He stepped forward a bit but I had his waist gripped tightly so I moved with him, and kept fucking. He was clamping my cock really hard, and by the time he yelled at me to stop I was nutting inside him, so I stopped. 'You want me to pull out?" I asked him, and he said yeah. I took a step back and my cock plopped out. He stood up and quickly got his underwear and pants back in place, and just left without saying a word.

Part 15 - Apricots and Americans Mark woke with a thick head in the morning and rolled over to face Luca, cuddling and kissing for a while before they both showered and went down to breakfast. Oliver's flight from Rome was scheduled to arrive at midday and they were on the road just after 10am for the drive to Pisa airport. Luca watched Mark who sat there with a smile on his face the entire trip to the airport constantly chatting about how much fun he had yesterday and how he needs to speed up his language skills. Luca on the other hand was more worried about Mark's reaction when he finally met Oliver, it had been made clear that Luca now had a boyfriend but would Oliver heed this and still try his hand at getting him. The flight had just landed when they walked in to arrivals and checked the board. Luca busy on his phone and Mark was playing shag, marry, kill with all the men walking past. Mark's eyes acted like radars picking up the each sexy Italian that walked in view and some foreigners. "What have I got involved with" Luca laughed returning to his phone. Mark chuckled "Now that one I would definitely shag and marry" he suddenly said urging Luca to look. Luca raised his head "You can do, that is Oliver" he chuckled and waved waiting for Oliver to come over. "Blond?" Mark exclaimed looking at Luca "never had you down as liking blond guys". Luca glanced at Mark "I don't" he said smiling at Mark "anyway it is mousey blond". "Luca" Oliver called out a few meters with a big smile on his face. Luca stepped forward and hugged Oliver "Olly so nice to see you" he said warmly "This is Mark". Oliver looked at Mark who stood slightly taller "Pleasure to meet you Mark" he said drawing his words out. Mark nodded without realising his guard went up seeing him as a threat "Likewise" he replied. "I was disappointed when I found out about you" Oliver said to Mark "I can see why he likes you". Mark looked cautiously at him "As long as you remember Luca is mine" he said clearly firing a warning shot. Oliver made no show of the hiding the fact he found Mark very sexually attractive just like Luca. They grabbed coffees and headed to the car for the drive up to the Tuscan hills. It was a torturing drive for Mark, unsure if he liked Oliver, after all he knew that this guy was a threat to Luca and him. It annoyed him how Luca would chat aimlessly with him with the occasional prodding of Mark to join in. Gio was coming back from his run when the car pulled in to the villa courtyard. Oliver greeted him with a hug like long lost friends whilst Mark stood and watched for a moment then walked in to the villa bumping in to Sarah 'is he here?' she said excitedly walking past. Luca opened the boot of the car and pulled Oliver's case out, closing the boot he noticed Mark was missing. "Come on boys lunch is ready then Luca can show you to your room" Sarah said taking Oliver's arm. Gio took the suitcase from Luca "Where has Mark gone?" Luca asked his father with a concerned voice. "He went inside" Sarah replied hearing Luca ask his father. Gio stopped Luca "Is everything alright?" he asked "with you and Mark?". "Yes" Luca replied looking at the villa "at least I think so" he said "he was quiet in the car". Gio put his arm around Luca's shoulder "Go find him Luca, think Oliver being here may upset him". Luca walked through the villa on to the terrace where he spotted Mark wandering deeper through the apricot orchard. He called out to Mark and stepped down tracing where he saw him last. It took a few minutes but he found the legs sticking out from behind their favourite tree. Luca grabbed two apricots and sat down handing Mark an apricot. "Tell me what is bothering you?" Luca asked glancing at Mark. Mark looked at the apricot "Do you love him?" he asked surprising Luca with his question. "Hell no" Luca replied "why would you think that?" he asked trying to urge Mark to be honest. Mark glanced at Luca "The way you both reacted seeing each other and your parents" he said trailing off. Luca smiled "He is charming and yes he is sexy" he said stroking Mark's leg "but I love you Marco". Mark sighed "I'm sorry for being stupid. My instinct was warning me" he said leaning back against the tree. Luca sat forward and took a look around then kneeled between Mark's legs, his hand running up along Mark's thigh and firmly grabbing his cock 'your hard' Luca said to Mark as he bowed down. His hands freeing Mark's cock and quickly his lips rubbed the head and his mouth slipped around and down the shaft. Mark rubbed Luca's head 'Luca not here' he tried protesting but Mark was already too far in to an orgasm building up. Just the sight of Luca was enough to turn him on wildly, he was whimpering in sexual pleasure trying to stop himself crying out. Hips jerked up and Mark groaned feeling the release from his balls. His head scratching against the bark of the tree as he tried to control himself from crying out and ended up giggling holding Luca's head down on his cock. Luca raised his head and took a bite off his apricot and chewed it mixing the cum with the flesh of fruit he then kissed Mark deep. Passing the apricot flesh between one another Mark slipped his hand in Luca's shorts, swallowing the fruit he pulled Luca up to a kneeling position and ran his tongue over Luca's cock. Luca raised a hand holding on to the tree 'oh fuck' he sweetly whispered closing his eyes feeling the warmth and moistness of Mark's mouth around his cock working him. Mark took his time hearing the moans from Luca, he could feel the cock swelling slightly and knew Luca was going to blow his load. Luca took his hand off the tree and held Mark's head feeling the contractions pulsing in his cock, so oblivious he didn't even notice Mark moving his hand around Luca's ass inside his shorts until he felt the finger pushing in to his hole. Luca gasped and released a girly shriek his orgasm heightened from the simultaneous assaults on his cock and ass. Mark pulled his mouth off Luca's cock and looked up at him taking a bite from his apricot he chewed then pulled Luca down and kissed him passing his cum loaded apricot flesh to Luca. He rolled on to his back laughing and took another bite of his apricot. "Now do you believe me when I say I love you?" Luca asked starring up the dabbled sunlight. Mark laid on top of Luca "Yes" he said looking in to his eyes as Luca's mother called out for them. Luca leaned up and kissed him "We should go before they come looking" he said hugging Mark. Walking back to the villa hand in hand Mark purposefully kept hold of Luca's arriving at the table, mostly for show so that Oliver would see it as a defiant display of their love. Oliver looked over and saw the defensive way Mark behaved carefully looking in the eye defiantly, to Oliver it was a challenge he was going to take up. He might show a defiant stance now but Oliver loved nothing more than breaking guys that thought they were tough enough to stand up to him. Little by little he would wear Mark down until he was nothing but his bitch, then he would move in seducing Luca away. He knew Mark's inexperience would pale in to insignificance and show how pathetic he was being unable to hold on to Luca, stealing him for his own gratification and watch Mark disappear in to the shadows. Indeed he switched on the charm with Mark doing to his best to win him over pretending he was no threat. Mark sat there acting his part, aware that Oliver seemed to be playing him. One thing this American didn't know was never to come between a guy from Manchester and his lover, Mark could tell that Oliver had underestimated him and decided to see how far he would really go and show his true colours. At least the rest of Sunday passed peacefully and dinner was generally good natured. Luca seemed happy that at least Oliver and Mark were getting along, on the outside he was sure Mark didn't see him as a threat to their relationship but he had no idea what was brewing between them. Luca returned from the bathroom naked and kissed Mark getting in to bed. "You seem to hit it off with Oliver" Luca said snuggling down in to Mark's arms. Mark looked at Luca "He is playing me Luca" he replied with his finger rubbing Luca's nipple gently. "Don't be silly" Luca replied "what makes you think he is up to something?" he asked stroking Mark's thigh. Mark kissed him gently on the mouth "He looks at me like I am naïve maybe even stupid". Luca smiled "Johan" he said looking at a confused Mark "Johan is a psychologist, we will invite them over". Mark chuckled "Oliver doesn't scare me" he said wrapping his arms around Luca "do you trust him?". "Not in the slightest" Luca replied pulling Mark closer locking their lips together. Embraced in their loving kiss it wasn't long before Luca felt his body being pulled under Mark, their bodies already glistening from the humid air his cock slipped into Luca. Raising his head Luca kissed him hard his hand holding Mark's head close keeping their lips attached, he moaned feeling the sensual strokes penetrating his ass. Mark slipped his free hand under Luca's neck holding his head up, the closeness enabling them to share the experience of their love making as one. His moans softly echoing around the room from the increased intensity of Mark's hips producing loving and delicate thrusts. Luca aroused purely from the feeling of Mark's body lying on top of him, he continued the tender love making feeling every pleasure rising from Luca's body. His love and desire for Luca building in his groin rapidly, his breathing heavy and short gasps feeling the sensations tingling through his body to his balls. Luca moaned 'oh Marco' he whispered feeling the hips pushing down and locking tight to his ass. Luca's hand grabbed Mark's head firmly keeping him as close as possible together they orgasmed, Luca ejaculating under him and Mark sealed their love freeing his seed in to Luca's body. Breathing deep in to each others mouths, clasping their lips together kissing and riding their orgasms together. The moment of simply, pure and very real intimacy between two lovers. Their bodies drenched in sweat as Mark slowly extracted his cock and rolled on to his back catching his breath. His hand stroking Luca's back and ass who now moved closer and laid his hand across Mark's chest. Luca got up and fetched some tissue and cleaned the sheet as best he could, leaning over he kissed Mark and grabbed his hand 'time to cool down' he said taking Mark downstairs and out to the pool terrace. Mark chuckled getting in to the cool water but instantly refreshed, they swam around and kissed as quietly as possible. From his window Oliver watched, the darkness of the bedroom hiding him from view to the outside world. Admitting to himself that they looked good together, for now. When Luca woke he wanted to act quickly and tried to get his uncle and Johan over on today but they were not free until 5pm, agreeing to come over Nico had briefed Johan what Luca had asked him to do. Johan showed a lot more concern, he liked Mark from their initial meeting at the family BBQ and only too happy to help. Sarah and Gio had left at 9am to visit friends in Pisa and would not be returning until Tuesday. By the time Luca and Mark went down for breakfast Oliver was sat there at the table in just his shorts drinking coffee. Mark couldn't take his eyes off Oliver's body seeing in properly for the first time, Marzi appeared with breakfast and more coffee. Luca reached over and saw only one apricot in the bowl, he stood up and said he would go and fetch some more leaving Oliver and Mark alone at the table. Oliver reached over and took the last apricot and placed it on the table, Mark was sat opposite him and fixing his gaze he smirked placing one finger on the apricot rolling it around. Mark sat there with both his arms on the table playing with the spoon watching Oliver. "Did you sleep well last night?" Mark asked his eyes still firmly on Oliver. Oliver looked at the apricot then back to Mark "Yes" he replied "how was your swim?". Mark raised and eyebrow "You saw us?" he asked watching Oliver nod "we were hot and sweaty from love making". Oliver smirked at him again "There is only one apricot, what do you do?" he asked cryptically. Mark looked slightly confused "Share it" he replied watching Oliver roll it around with his finger. "What if this one apricot was worth half a million dollars?" Oliver asked looking up at Mark. Mark said nothing "Selfishly take the apricot and it's value then leave?" Oliver now asked. Mark sat there quietly aware of what Oliver was doing "It is a small price for such a priceless thing". Oliver smiled "What if it's value soared to one million?" he now asked seeing Mark's eyebrows raise. "Take the apricot and leave" Mark replied his eyes focused on the apricot. Oliver nodded "You take the apricot and disappear for good" he now said watching Mark carefully. Mark rolled the apricot around with his finger "Such an expensive apricot" he replied lifting his finger off. "Worth every dollar" Oliver said testing Mark's resolve and sensing he was close to taking it. Mark smiled and put his palm over the apricot "Apricots don't last forever, but I can crush your dreams". Oliver watched Mark crush the apricot "Crushed like your offer" Mark said "you can't buy me off". Oliver grabbed Mark's hands, his foot began working up Mark's leg "Waste of a perfect fruit". Mark moaned feeling his toes slip inside his shorts rubbing his balls under the table "Stop that" he said. "You should have taken the offer" Oliver said pushing his foot hard against balls gripping his hands tighter. Mark grimaced "You will not win Oliver" he managed to say "we love each other". Oliver released the pressure slowly massaging Mark's cock with his foot "Getting hard Mark?". Mark smirked and saw Luca walking back with a handful of apricots "Looser" he said looking at Oliver. Oliver tapped harder watching the grimace on Mark's face then removed his foot "We will see" he said releasing Mark's arms. Oliver smirked at him again and realised that Mark was not going to be as easy to remove like Andre was. Here was a person that was not intimidated so easily and could not be brought off. Mark sat with a steely determination, his eyes clearly warning Mark not to mess with him over Luca. Mark turned to watch Luca approach with a smile on his face until he sat down and placed the apricots in the bowl, he noticed the crushed fruit on the table between Oliver and Mark. "What happened to the apricot?" Luca asked looking at them both. Oliver chuckled "We fought over it and it got crushed in the process" he replied looking at Mark. Mark smiled at Oliver "Like the million dollars he offered me to leave you" he said seeing Oliver's shocked face. Oliver never expected Mark to say anything "Is that true" Luca asked looking at Oliver. "Million dollars of crushed apricot" Mark interjected quickly. Oliver looked at Mark then Luca "I had to try one more time Luca, but he won't budge". Luca shook his head "Value what friendship we have Olly, just don't come between Mark and I". He wasn't sure if he was angry with Oliver or not but it did seem to clear the air a little, he kissed Mark lovingly and more so for being honest about what had happened. Oliver knew it as a very stark warning from Luca and eased off, over breakfast he engaged Mark in conversation making it rather more pleasant. The day was spent enjoying the best of the summer weather by the pool, Mark was constantly on his guard watching Oliver's every move. By late afternoon Oliver was beginning to concede that Luca did only have eyes for Mark. Desperately he wanted to find love, he loved the fucking around and it had been a good few years. Seeing them together and how in love they looked was striking home that he had no one to share his life with. Mark had made it clear to Luca that as sexy as Oliver was he did not want to risk giving him the opportunity so sex with him was out of the question. laying by the pool Luca stretched and said he was going to get from fruit, Mark walked with him then dived in to the pool to cool off. Behind him a tremendous splash showered him with water, he turned to see the body surfacing out of the water. Laughing Mark felt the strong arms of Johan lifting him up in the air like a ballet dancer before dropping him back in the water. Oliver looked on shocked at the stranger who had arrived. Mark managed to swim away and called back 'toy boy' he shouted clambering out of the pool watching Johan give chase. Johan looked at Oliver 'Don't just sit there grab him' he shouted. Suddenly Mark felt Oliver grab him and pin him down to the floor smiling, Johan arrived and picked Mark up throwing him back in the pool then jumping in back after him. Oliver still confused by what was happening sat on the edge of the pool dangling his feet in watching them. "I see you met my husband" Nico said sitting besides Oliver who turned with a surprised look on his face. Oliver looked around for Luca "Who are you?" he asked beginning to see similarities to Gio in his face. Nico chuckled and held out his hand "Luca's uncle, Nico and that is Johan my husband". Nico smiled "Ciao Luca" he said feeling Luca's arms going around his neck. "Ciao zio" Luca said kissing Nico on the mouth "Sorry Oliver I forget to tell you they were coming over". Oliver though was completely fascinated and in awe of Johan and his build, definitely more muscular than Oliver and with his height he carried it off to perfection. He was oblivious to what Johan was up to and before he knew it he had warmed to him and opened up personally over a dinner of antipasti, bread and wine. After dinner they sat by the pool taking the occasional dip. Oliver found himself in the pool alone with Johan, unable to keep his hands from feeling Johan's body telling him how amazing it was. Johan kept his gaze fixed on Mark then briefly kissed him and held him in his arms a little to tightly for Oliver's liking. "They make a very nice couple Luca and Mark" Johan said quietly in Oliver's ear. Oliver nodded "Yes" he replied agreeing getting aroused held in Johan's arms. "Be bad if anything came between them" Johan said "nothing could protect the person who broke them apart". Oliver remained quiet for a moment "You mean me" he eventually said feeling the arms tighten sharply around him. Johan kissed Oliver's neck "Glad to see you are not stupid Oliver" he whispered kissing his neck again. Oliver leaned his head back like a powerful force had overtaken his body arousing him even further. Johan kissed his neck nibbling upwards then suddenly he let go pushing Oliver away and got out of the pool leaving him there alone. He was so aroused by the brute force of this man and leaned against the side of pool knowing full well he had been given a very clear warning this time. His body feeling like electricity, no man had ever made him get in to such a state without actual sex. Luca and Mark sat there watching Johan seducing Oliver into a horned up mess, he was smiling when he sat down at the table joining them. Nico looked up "Well?" he simply asked quietly "what is your analysis?". "He wants to break you two up" Johan replied looking at Luca and Mark who nodded. "How do we stop it?" Luca asked desperately. Joahn smiled "Don't worry, he got the message" Johan replied "dam sexy guy" he said picking up his juice. Luca leaned over and gave Johan a kiss "Thank you" he said feeling a hand on his waist. "What is this?" Nico asked spotting Luca's tattoo, Johan pulled the shorts down and looked at him. Luca felt embarrassed "Oh I forgot about that" he said shyly afraid to look at them. Nico was looking at him "Luca!" he exclaimed waiting for him to answer. Johan smiled standing up pulling his shorts down revealing a small biohazard tattoo "You?" Luca asked. Johan nodded "Yes, and you?" he asked watching Luca slowly nod his head he turned to Mark who nodded as well. "Why didn't you tell me Luca?" Nico asked holding Luca's face. Luca lowered his eyes "I didn't want to it splashed around the family" he replied. Luca looked in to his uncles eyes "And you?" he asked seeing him smile and nod. Luca and Mark both laughed then Nico spoke "You want to take Oliver home for the night?" he asked Johan. Johan looked at the Oliver in the pool "Depends if these two have any plans for him". "No" Luca and Mark replied in unison looking at Nico and Johan then laughing to each other. Nico went over to the pool and pulled Oliver out "Your coming home with us tonight" he said. Oliver grinned "Don't I get any say in the matter?" he asked knowing full well he was going. Nico chuckled "No" he replied. Luca and Mark said good night to Nico and Johan after being invited over Saturday afternoon and evening after they have dropped Oliver off at the airport.

How ironic the prequel to my next chapter as set out above is titled *Waiting*. For those who are wanting more to this story, and have been patiently *waiting* for more, all my stories have taken to the back burner as I have got a LOT going on in my personal life. I do realise a lot of time has elapsed so maybe interest has waned. However, if you are still eager for more, give this a like so I know to continue. I do have the next chapter almost ready to go to print, ha, and have concrete plans on how I want to develop the central character Stevie boy, and most definitely have plans for his boyfriend Lew, and the next door neighbour Ramon. ☣️ I sincerely hope everyone is keeping well in light of global events that have unfolded during the last few months, and continue to evolve on a daily basis.

Before this whole Corona Virus thing, I had taken all of May off and was planning on traveling to every city/club I could. Well obviously that isn't going to happen. Not only did my employer cancel all leave until at least the end of May, but even if I was to go somewhere there wouldn't be much happening. The reason for this is that I was supposed to be on a plane to Berlin for a week this morning. So If you could head out for a month, were would you travel to get as many loads as possible.

Most of those who’ve read my real life “enhanced” experiences may know that I’ve kept a “sex diary” since I was a teen-ager coming out in pre-AIDS New York City. This multi-part entry tells about the longest party weekend I’ve had in all my years back in 2006. I had started to tell this story on another now defunct site almost 10 years ago, but the notebook of my experiences from that time went missing when a friend borrowed the whole set and returned it with one book missing. He found the misplaced notebook just this month while doing a closet overhaul to relieve Corvid Cabin Fever. I will post it as I finish typing and editing, in several parts. P’TOWN PARTYING Part 1 I've always been a huge fan of Provincetown ever since my parents (knowingly!!) sent me there for two full weeks as a 19 year old back in 1982 (to the Pilgrim House, no less, which might as well have been an upscale bathhouse at the time – that part I actually DON’T think they were aware of!). So, why am I such a huge fan? Less attitude than Fire Island and lots of sex. My husband and I even spent five full months a year up there for six years in a row (May - October) and during that time I was one of the models for the 1992 "Joy of Gay Sex", and I wrote a few articles about how to cruise the dunes and the "dick dock" for Scott O'Hara's magazine "Steam". Well, that was the 90s... More recently, we don't get to spend too much time up there, but up until a few years ago there was always a time in August when my other half had to attend a Thursday through Sunday business conference near Boston, so our usual M.O. was to have us drive from NY to the conference center on Wednesday night, staying with my other half at the hotel overnight, and then when he left for his morning session on Thursday have me head to P'Town and check in by early afternoon - he'd take the ferry over after the conference on Sunday evening and we'd stay till the following weekend. This schedule gave me three nights and four days of playing around with his blessing - amazingly he's VERY vanilla despite our 30 years together, and he'd rather I did my major partying and kinkier playing when he's working or away... perfect for both of us. Though I have always been lucky enough to have a lot of really hot play sessions, they are seldom LONG as generally I have to work the next day and my other half prefers that I not stay out all night even if I get home at 5AM. So, this annual “free weekend” arrangement allowed a nice really long extended session for me. One year in particular was probably the best long session I've ever had. It’s certainly got the most entries on one weekend that I ever added to what I call my “sex diary” (if you ever wondered why I remember so many details of my experience, it helps that I write them down right after they’ve happened in a notebook I keep for my old age! I started them way back when I was a teenager). I had been chatting with a guy on-line that I'd been “e-introduced” to by mutual fuck buds. He lived year-round in P'Town, but he had not moved there as yet in the 90s when my hub and I were doing our 5 months a year there. This new bud and I had agreed I would meet him at his house at 3:30 that Thursday afternoon when I arrived in town. He was versatile also and we further agreed to make sure we were both totally cleaned out and popped a blue pill before meeting so we could get right down to chem sex... THURSDAY ARRIVAL AND PREGAME SHOW There was - unbelievably - no traffic that day, and I was checked just after 12 noon – I was lucky my room was actually ready, I was so early! I called my hubby’s hotel and left a message for him that I’d arrived safely. Anyone remember "The Ranch" in the center of town? Half guest house, half bath house - billed itself as a bunk house and was the leather men's place to stay - the second and third floor hallways were the same as any bathhouse and any time day or night you might happen on someone with the door open looking for some action. I had taken my Vitamin V and was all cleaned up and out, back from the communal showers and in my room with the door cracked puffing a little on the glass cock. A guy peeks around the door and asks to borrow some lube - he was actually someone who'd been at the Ranch the same time the last two years, so we'd played around some in prior vacations; he'd seen me coming out of the shower and knew I usually had good lube with me. Like me he was a well-toned blond, though not as hairy in the body as me (and yeah, about 20 years younger!) He looked at the pipe and said "I didn't know you partied! I've always wanted to but my boyfriend won't let me." I told him he didn't know that I partied because generally he was always here during the time when my partner was - and my husband doesn't do it and prefers I pnp when playing by myself. I told this Boston Fratboy to close the door over and come sit down. I asked if his boyfriend were waiting for him and he said he had a couple of minutes while his boyfriend futzed with the porn, but would I like to join them? I said I had a major hookup to go to at 3:30 though I'd come play for a few minutes, but first I was going to give him a taste of partying. I took a huge hit and shot-gunned him, which he said he'd done enough times with the green stuff back in college. He was amazed how smooth it was - I shot-gunned him a few more times, then he took a few big hits of his own - we put down the pipe for a minute or two of mutual ass rimming, then took a few more hits. He gave me a huge tongue kiss and headed back to his room to let his BF know I was going to play with them for a few minutes. I packed my bag for my upcoming long session, and then wandered down the hall in just my jock to the room those guys were in - which was one of the rooms with a sling set up. The BF was a white cub type in the sling, blindfolded, with a bottle of poppers he was huffing. I said "hey, don't get up" and he remembered me from past years and thanked me for coming down, hoping I could join them for a longer period later in the weekend. Fratboy got up from where he was rimming his BF and slid his condom-covered cock into the guy (I'd forgotten they played "safe", ugh). The blindfolded BF was sucking my cock with his head turned to the side, and Fratboy silently mouthed to me "fuck my ass... bare". I tell Bearcub I'm going to go rim Fratboy (which I did for a minute), then lubed him with my lube and slid in - easily! I remembered that the kid was mostly top, like me, and always had a hard time getting fucked. Well not after Miss T made his acquaintance! He was moaning like crazy but careful to say "yeah, rim my fucking ass" rather than what he really wanted to say. I fucked for a few minutes then pulled out, indicating my wrist for "time". I gave his BF a few minutes of oral on his short thick hairy tool, thanked them for the quickie and headed back to my room to get ready to leave. I took a piss, washed my dick, and went back to my room. Fratboy slipped in my door as I was putting on my shorts and sneakers. I raised my eyebrows and he whispered "he's got a vibrating plug up his hole, and I told him I had to piss. I was hoping I could get a couple of more hits from you before you go - and maybe later when he's asleep I could join you guys?" I smiled and shook my head affirmatively - another convert to chemsex! I lit up the pipe while he programmed his number into my cell and we shot-gunned back and forth... He said getting fucked had never been that easy and that he hoped my host friend would let him join the scene later. I told him I would definitely check with my buddy, and he should be ready and cleaned-out for the leather party, “and make sure your fingernails are clipped and filed down…” I also informed him it was an all-bareback party and guys who were poz – including me - would definitely be there and expecting to breed. He said he had no problem with that, so after one last puff he slipped out my door. Cooling and stowing my pipe, I waited for him to get back into his room before I closed my door behind me and locked it. THURSDAY AFTERNOON – LET THE GAMES BEGIN The guy I was meeting was named Jimmy and lived about a 5-minute walk away - ironically only two buildings away from the offices of the summer publication I used to write for! As I turned off Commercial Street, I saw him sitting on his covered front porch that was lifted above street level by about 10 stairs. He was hot - a really tanned white guy with longish blond-white hair and a handsome mischievous face with a bit of a five o'clock shadow. He didn't stand as I approached the porch but smiled and waved one hand - his profile had said he was 5'5" so I knew he wasn't at all what you'd call tall, but that doesn't concern me - hot is hot. I opened the gate he indicated and climbed the stairs to the front porch. There was a solid door at the top and rather than an open railing the porch had a solid wall up to waist height - when I opened the door I saw why he hadn't stood up. He was naked from the waist down other than his socks and his huge dick was hard and bobbing and dripping as he stroked it. I knew his profile and our mutual acquaintances had said he was hung, but sheeee-it this was one of the biggest cocks I'd played with and in the top ten for any white guy I’d encountered. At that moment I was a bit abashed - thank god for the few German genes mixed with my Irish... my cock is completely average in length, though thank god thicker than usual - still, this humongous piece on this obviously short guy had me jealous for a minute! Next to him there was a bong and what looked like a lit Bunsen burner, a can of maximum impact, some lube and a little black case. "Right on time, man, I like that..." he said. "Put your bag there, then sit down, then slide your shorts down so nobody walking by sees we're not wearing much here." I sat and he indicated the burner and bong cautioning me to keep it low below the level of the solid railing. Leaning to my left, I held the bong over the blue jet and with my left hand and watched the clouds start swirling within. I took a huge hit, and he told me "don't move!" as I felt him wrap a band around and then swab my right arm. With amazing ease, I felt the pin prick and warmth spreading from it, then he pulled away counting down from “10”. I exhaled the smoke I'd been holding, and at “1” he pulled the band and I coughed four times. Whoa... this guy knew his business... had to be the best point ever, and the easiest. If I thought I was horny before... jeez, I was an animal now. He stayed on his knees and began sucking licking and mouthing my cock while around it he said low enough that no one walking by could hear - "I pointed as soon as you turned the corner and I recognized you from your picture, and I had to get my mouth full of cock for a minute it got me so horny.” I was going wild and wanted some cock myself - we waited until there was no one passing by and he slid back into his seat, while I melted out of mine and between his legs. I was face to cock with that monster of his and started sucking and drooling all over it and his hot hairy balls. I lifted his legs a bit and got my tongue in his hot little hole while I felt his boy-butter covered fingers sliding into and lubing up my hole. I heard him spraying maximum impact into a cloth and he handed the cloth to me as he leaned down and whispered, “Stay on all fours but turn around and start impaling your hole on this cock... when you get in, sit up so it just looks like you are sitting on my lap.” Sucking the sprayed cloth, I turned around on hands and knees and backed my now very hungry hole up to that massive tool. It slid in amazing easily, showing how well the chems were doing their job. In a word it felt AMAZING, and unlike my usual M.O., I required no time to adjust. I got one leg under me while he held my hips and in a few more seconds I was sitting in his lap with that entire rod buried up inside my hairy blond butt. With our tank tops on and innocent smiles on our faces, we looked like a sweet gay couple just enjoying the afternoon, instead of two chem pigs, fucking in all-but-broad-daylight. I worked my butt muscles on his rod and he moaned, while I just rolled my eyes reveling in how damn good his huge cock felt in me. He leaned down to the burner and subtly got a hit from the bong. Leaning back and turning my head, we kissed and he shot-gunned his hit. The smoke wound up back in his mouth, and picking up a very fake cigarette he very obviously held it to his lips a second before breathing out our cloud of T. Then from below the porch there was a bang of a door which should have shocked me but didn't. A voice called up from below "I'm finished Mr. J... have a good weekend!" I looked down to the street to see the retreating back of a woman carrying some cleaning supplies in one hand and tossing a wave over her shoulder with the other. "What the fuck was that?" I asked with an obvious laugh, and he replied "my cleaning lady was running late today and I didn't want to wait to start our session, so that's why we've been fucking around out here on the porch." I just sat there for a second, still impaled on his huge piece and then starting laughing my head off. He said, “Let’s pull up our shorts and get inside and get the real fun started.” He turned off the burner, and put all his supplies in a wicker picnic basket as I pulled my shorts back on and got my bag. He opened the door and we crossed into the upper floor of the house quickly passing through what I think was the living room with a VERY extensive art collection. There also appeared to be a kitchen, small bedroom, and a bathroom on that level, but he hustled me quickly down a staircase. There was a small office at the bottom (with the door to the outside his cleaning lady had just used) and a locked door on the other side of the landing. Through the door was a huge room that was all play space - one of the best I'd ever seen. There was a sling, a rimseat, a weight bench, saint andrews cross, two mattresses and a couple of those wedge things covered in leather. The walls alternated between Vid Screens, mirrors and black pegboard with all sorts of toys and B&D equipment hanging or in metal cubes... there was a large bathroom that was mostly open to the space that looked more like a locker room bathroom than a home installation. Finally, on what would be the rear wall of the house, there was some kind of small alcove curtained off with black cloth. I smiled at him, nodding and saying "Nice... damn nice" then indicating the street and the office door over my shoulder I trailed off with "but... um". He laughed and said, "No man, the cleaning lady doesn't clean THIS room - only me." He hit a couple of switches and the screens lit - three screens of porn and one that was obviously a cam, split screened with us in the room on one side, and the logo for some cam site on the other. We stripped down completely this time and he opened the cam site pulling a few guys feeds onto the one screen while a small image of us remained for us to see ourselves. I took a good look at him (finally) as he got the bong ready for some hits. He WAS short, 5'5" might have been an exaggeration, but he was ripped and wiry with that huge cock and a sweet little butt - and covered with swirls of blond hair all over his chest, legs, arms, shoulders, ass and cock. We shared some huge hits as more guys "pinged" on the screen to watch us, and then he lay back in the sling and said "blow that chem-smoke up my fucking mancunt". Okay, so you don't have to ask me twice. Really, I catch on to these things rather well... All kidding aside, I got down on the pad under the sling, took a huge rip and sinking my lips onto that freakin’ gorgeous hole, pried him open with my tongue and breathed the cloud into that hole to the best of my practiced abilities. I totally LOVE rimming a man's hole and as usual it made my already hard dick ready to split open. "You've felt mine man, let me feel yours - give the viewers a show here". I stood up and sank my cock right into that fucking hot hole and proceeded to give him a major good pounding. I used the sling to its best advantage, at times pulling him to me, at other times hanging from the bars and rabbit fucking him, even pulling my legs up into the sling so he could suck my toes while I continued hanging from the bars and using my arms and the inertia from the movement to continue to pound into him. We had an awesome ride, until after a while his phone beeped. He asked me to hand him the phone, which I did, and he said "Good! He's right on time" (This guy definitely had something about punctuality - I never did find out what, but that sort of thing went on all weekend). "Who…?" I asked. He smirked, "My 'grocer' is here with a delivery for the weekend, we don't want to run out of Miss Tina, do we?" Vehemently shaking my head "NO", he smiled and said “I'll go let him in". And got up naked and hard and went across the hall. I sat on the weight bench watching the porn and the cam-guys for a minute then heard voices. Now, I'm a native New Yorker, and the fact is that I like hot guys of all races and nationalities - and I can indulge my desire for variety in New York very easily. Provincetown on the other hand, being a Massachusetts seashore resort, is another issue. Now don't get me wrong, I'm a white guy myself and it’s not like I don’t enjoy playing with other white guys, I just enjoy a varied diet when possible. Provincetown has gotten a bit more diverse over the years since I started going there, but is still pretty much white Bostonians and New Yorkers (which do have the Italian and Irish flavors) mixed in with the Quebecois from Montreal, and suburban gay New Englanders and East Coasters. So I was pleasantly surprised when a tall black man came through the door (seeming even taller in juxtaposition with my buddy) with a guy trailing him who looked like he was from one of the local Portuguese fishermen families. Lou, my buddy's 'candy-man' was a tall wiry black man with hair done back in tight cornrows and a tat coming up his neck. The guy with him - who went by the nickname "Vice" - was a stocky olive skinned guy with a huge chest, shoulders and biceps only a straight boy should have, as they were way out of proportion with the rest of him. Turns out I was right in that opinion. Jimmy introduced Lou - who in turn intro'd Vice to both of us. Lou said he hoped I didn't mind the company but he always came to Jimmy's place first on his delivery rounds so he could have a couple of hours to "chill" and get his rocks off before the busy evening delivery period in this gay mecca. He said Vice was one of his best bros, and Vice's "bitch girlfriend" was away taking summer courses and Vice wanted to get high and get his rocks off. Seems he'd never had head or anything from a "cocksucker" before, but when he found out that Lou got down with it and didn't have a problem, he figured he'd tag along and see if he could give it a shot. Okay, cool with me. Soaring as I was, I was up for pretty much anything, and frankly I love groups. Lou loaded up a big ole bong of his own from his bag, filled the base with something and then started pulling his clothes off - "come on, bro" he said to the hesitating Vice, who then proceeded to pull off his team logo shorts and wife beater. Lou was seriously defined with like 2% body fat, wiry with a nice sized piece (not as big as Jimmy's) and Vice was a fireplug of muscle with a bit of a beer gut for one so young, and an uncut piece that hung down over his balls nicely. He seemed like a satyr - really hairy from the waist down and almost no body hair from there up. Lou was a bit plumped already, but Vice was obviously a little intimidated and totally flaccid. Jimmy surreptitiously switched ONE of the porn vids to one that was bi with women in it along with the studs (sound down, thank god) and Lou fired up the magic cauldron and passed it around. As we breathed out our hits, Lou said to me "oh shit man, I forgot to ask - are you one of them ‘just tops’?" I smiled and said "no, I'm versatile - I like as much variety as I can get: sucking and getting sucked; fucking and getting fucked; rimming and getting rimmed... you get the picture." "Yeah, I'm down with that... so why don't you give this big black dealer dick a taste then man." I dropped to my knees and took that dick in one fell swoop. Vice muttered "Holy Shit" under his breath and Lou stopped and gave him the bong and said - why don't you sit down on the mattress there and take some hits and watch the scene so you can get used to it and get into it..." Then Jimmy said, "Are both you guys showered?" They both nodded. "Then watch this, Vice," he said as he pulled Lou and I toward the rimseat. He said to Lou, "we're both at your service... my New York bud here loves to fuckin’ toss salad till the cows come home." I got down on the matting and pulled myself under the rimseat while Jimmy pushed the leather pillow behind my neck. Lou took the glass cock back from Vice for a minute and gave me a huge shotgun, then returned the bong to Vice while Jimmy sprayed Maximum Impact into the bandanna, stuffed it into my mouth and against my nose and I inhaled deeply. Then Lou slowly sank his hot freakin’ butt over my face, settling himself into the rimseat while my brain exploded, and I went at his hole with my tongue like a madman. My rock-hard cock was swaying in the breeze for only a moment then I felt Jimmy's tight butt sinking down on me. "Yeah boy, fuck yourself on that cracker dick while you worship my big black cock boy". Sure enough, the sounds of dick being very eagerly sucked came from above my head. "Holy fuckin' shit... that’s fuckin crazy dude" was Vice's muttered comment. I heard the bubbling of the waterpipe as he took more and more hits. "shit, man... holy shit" he kept muttering in between. I was in fucking pig heaven, the only thing that could have made it better would have been a cock in my ass, which I was hoping wouldn't be too far off. After a while, Lou said to Vice... come over here man, and let these cocksuckers service you a bit too. Lou stood up, telling Jimmy to stay where he was... he took a huge rip from the pipe and knelt to shotgun it to me. Before he did I whispered "fuck my ass once I'm rimming him and Jimmy's sucking him". He nodded and passed me the hit. Then another whiff of the aroma filled bandanna and Vice was standing over me with his big hairy butt and yeah, I could smell from his legs he'd just showered (my one turn off is scat - too sensitive a nose). I heard Jimmy taking a hit, then Vice took another one and Lou pressed the newly sprayed bandanna to Vice's face and told him to breathe long and deep. While he did, Lou got one of the wedges and with Jimmy still sitting in my lap with my dick in his ass, Lou pushed the wedge under us. Lou then commanded Vice to sit down, and that straight hairy hole lowered itself to my waiting face. It was a work of art really, just a beautiful manhole. And as my tongue started its dance I found out he tasted REALLY good. And boy did he start to moan, especially when Jimmy started deep-throating him. Then finally I felt Lou’s hand around my butt and his finger pushed something small and sharp into me, and I realized he had booty bumped me. He muttered, "Fuck yeah man, enjoy the tweak..." and amazingly the next thing I felt was his goddamn tongue! Vice blurts out "Holy Fuck bro!" watching his friend munch another guys butt. I moaned as Lou rimmed me and the crystal started melting inside me. He pulled his tongue out, got up and sank his big dick right into my hole, sighing the whole way. Goddamn he felt good and I went even crazier on Vice's straight boy hole. "Oh shit, man, oh shit... this is so wrong... but wickie hot" (which he pronounced "hawt"). Lou threw me an awesome fuck, and I heard the bubbling as Vice took more and more hits off the water pipe, interspersed with him repeating "oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck". "Yo man you ready to try some of this tight hole?" I heard Lou asking Vice. "Fuck yeah man!" was the response although when Vice stood he seemed a bit reluctant to take his hole away from my probing tongue. Lou came to stand over my head, while Vice got between my legs. As he was about to shove right in Lou stops him and says "Yo bro, a little courtesy here? You gotta’ wet down that mancunt before you fuck it..." Vice seemed ready to balk, but Lou said "Fuck dude, you watched me do it... bro you lick pussy and this is actually better. Just do it man..." He sprayed up the bandanna and shoved it in to Vice's face telling him to pull deep, he held it for a long time and Vice just whispered "aw that wickie hot..." again. Lou gave me the cloth and I breathed deep and then that tight black ass was heading my way again. Jimmy is still bouncing on my cock and says, "yeah man let me eat that big licorice stick...". Vice's tentative first licks started becoming downright enthusiastic and he and I both moaned as he did so. After a minute he pulled his face away and then that uncut linguica of his started into my willing hole. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh" was pretty much the only sound Vice could make as he started to slowly fuck, then really pound my hole. I forgot how "enthusiastic" the young could be! I think Lou, Jimmy and I knew Vice could not hold that pace for long, so Lou said to Jimmy, “slide off your buds cracker dick and sit down on this dealer cock – you can face away and suck your juices off his dick…” which, indeed Jimmy prepared to do. I missed being in that hot hole, but I was glad he was going to enjoy another cock other than mine, as I kind of felt like I unintentionally wound up monopolizing the scene and it was HIS scene after all! As Jimmy got himself positioned, Lou basically commanded Vice to jerk my cock while he fucked me and Jimmy got into place. I felt Vice tentatively wrap his hand around my tool and start to pull on me, gaining more confidence as he went on… Jimmy impaled his pighole on Lou and started riding like he’d joined the rodeo. Soon enough, Vice was bellowing and blowing a load up my hole, and Lou more quietly did the same for Jimmy, who never did get around to blowing me at that point. After a lot of heavy breathing, Lou said they had deliveries to make and they’d best be finishing up with us “for now” – which I found encouraging! We were all standing and shaking out our muscles and Vice asked if there was somewhere he could clean up a bit and piss, so Jimmy led him off to the bath. Lou just looked at me and smiled, put his finger to his lips in a “shush” motion, went to his jeans and handed me a small envelope. “That’s for a seriously good time man, on the house,” he whispered “I’ve been wanting to get that Portuguese homeboi into some more serious shit for a while and you guys just got him off to an excellent start… thanks. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around this weekend…” I thanked him and stuffed the envelope into a compartment in my bag, then used some wet ones to clean off a bit as Jimmy and Vice returned. “We need to do some business,” Jimmy said drawing Lou toward the door. “We’ll be in the office, you two chat amongst yourselves, or whatever else you choose to do…” Lou indicated the water pipe on the way out, so I picked it up and fired up the torch as Vice said, “Fuck that was freaky man – never had a BJ like that, never had a cunt as tight as your ass, and fuck – what your tongue was doing to my ass… wickie cool.” “Yeah,” I said, as I filled the torch with butane “sex on this can be pretty awesome – and with a dude too, cause there’s no expectation or bullshit like marriage or getting knocked up.” “You got that dude,” he said as I fired up the pipe and took a huge hit – I indicated my mouth and his to see if he wanted a shot gun hit, he looked a bit weirded-out, looked around and then leaned in. I fed him the smoke and we actually had a bit of a tongue duel as his prior inhibitions continued to ebb away from him. “So did you enjoy yourself today Vice?” I asked. “Yeah,” he replied, “freaky but wickie hot.” I handed him the glassware and the flame and he took the biggest rip I’d seen him do yet, put them down, and then grabbed my ass with both hands, and with a smirk pulled me in for a shotgun. Pleasantly surprised with his sudden aggressiveness, I put my arms around his neck and shoulders and wrapped one leg around his waist letting his now re-hardening cock to slide below my balls, through my crack and against my hole. “Lou was pretty certain he was coming back for more sometime later,” I said. “I sure hope you’re still cool with this and up for coming back too, I’d like to give you some more of what I gave you earlier…” “Yeah man? You really like gettin’ fucked a lot, don’tcha?” I looked at him for a second and said, “Yep. But don’t get me wrong dude, I like to fuck as much or even MORE than I like to get fucked. Shit, if you weren’t straight, I’d be all up in that freakin’ gorgeous ass of yours, but don’t worry, I respect limits…” He looked shocked for a second and then laughed. “Seriously, Vice, for me that’s one of the most awesome things about mansex – I get to try ALL the positions, from both directions. I did my share of pussy when I was younger, but for ME, it’s just not as exciting, and you sure can’t switch roles so to speak!” He chuckled again, shook his head and said “Man, I gotta’ give it up to you. You’re cool, very cool… yeah, I’ll prob’ly be back later with Lou and tap that ass again…” I dropped to one knee, took a quick suck on his rod and said “I look forward to it…” before I took his pole most of the way in and began a slow goodbye suck. He rifled my hair a bit, moaned a little, and then a minute or two later asked “You really think I have a nice looking ass?” Bingo! Licking around his head I answered, “oh yeah dude, SERIOUSLY nice…”. He started to get dressed then, as we heard Jimmy and Lou coming back from their “business” in the office. Before they left, Lou said that Jimmy told him I was staying at The Ranch and asked if I could invite him into the place before Saturday – seems the management didn’t want him just coming like the ice cream man to sell, which would be too obvious, BUT if he were invited in by a guest to play, and then just happened to meet some people whom he could help out, that would be okay. “Sure,” I told Lou and Vice, “I’ll likely be back there for a break tomorrow afternoon and early evening… if I’m not here, I’m there – room 21.” I also gave both of them my cell number. As he was about to leave, Lou turned and said “I suppose you two will be working the holes later?” and Jimmy replied in the affirmative. “Holes?” I asked when they’d gone. For an answer, Jimmy pulled aside the black curtain around the small alcove… “I have my own private Glory Holes,” Jimmy told me. What looked like a former coal chute or maybe a woodshed attached to the back of the house had been converted to Jimmy’s own private oral paradise. Seems he had a system of lights on the side of his house. If there was a green light shining instead of white, the hole was open… TWO green lights meant two holes were open. How this news got around to locals, I’m not quite sure, although the winters are REALLY long, grey and boring up there, so I guess anything like that would get around… I was intrigued by the whole concept to say the least.

56 Dean Street in London argues that HIV transmission rates in countries with effective treatment may be dealt a blow by lockdown. Briefly put, most HIV transmissions occur in the period of a couple of months after HIV infection where someone has not developed antibodies to HIV while in fact being highly infectious. It is possible, especially if people get tested post-lockdown as quickly as possible, HIV infection rates might get permanently reduced. This is arguably especially the case now, with prophylactic treatments like PrEP and effective treatment regimens like TasP being widely available. [think before following links] https://www.pinknews.co.uk/2020/05/01/hiv-chain-broken-transmission-lockdown-coronavirus-56-dean-street/

Prior to this happening I thought I was 1000% straight but my roommate completely changed that. I've gone into painstaking detail because this is all I've been able to think about lately. It's completely true. This is what happened ... I live in a two bedroom condo with a roommate, Greg. He posted an ad almost a year ago looking for a roommate, I needed a place to live, and he seemed like a cool guy so it was an easy match. Greg has lots of gorgeous female friends and has been an awesome wingman so it has been a really good year haha. Anyway, in my city, they are taking serious measures during lockdown and so for the most part everyone is staying home. Being a single guy not able to go out and meet women this means I've been jerking off way more often. About a week ago Greg caught me jerking off, which honeslty wasn't the first time but its never not embarrassing. I thought I had some alone time because he had gone to the grocery store. Greg jokingly said that he could help me out if I wanted and walked out of my room. Over the next day or so we pretended like nothing happened. We were sitting on the couch in the living room one night smoking a joint, talking about how we couldn't wait for quarentine to be over so we could get back to normalcy. We both complained about how long it's been since we've had any type of sexual interaction and Greg mentioned he was serious about what he said the other day. Mentioning "not trying to make anything weird or whatever ... I like sucking dick, you like getting your dick sucked ... I'm just so horny, you know? Plus, you wouldn't be the first straight I've hooked up with". I stared at him for a bit in silence. My dick starting to swell in my jeans. I took another hit and started to unbuckle my belt. Greg laugh, "you don't need much convincing haha" licked his lips on got on his knees. I laughed too. "You ruined my jerk session the other day, I haven't cum in weeks so you owe me". He pulled me jeans completely off. My dick was semi-hard already and streching my boxer-briefs. He pulled my boxers down next just enough that my package was out. He started by jerking me slowly while he licked my balls. My toes instantly curlled and my cock immediately hit full mast. Greg worked my balls for a bit until I was dripping precum and then took my entire shaft down his throat. Honestly one of the best blowjobs I've ever had. He edged me for what felt like forever. I told him I was going to cum if he touched me again. Greg asked if I liked getting my ass licked. I told him it's never happened before. He pulled my boxers completely off, pulled my hips to the edge of the couch and slowly licked my clenched hole. It felt so good and with each lick I could feel my ass relax. As I started to moan and my cock pulsed, Greg knew I was going to shoot my load. He licked from my asshole, up my balls, to my shaft and started to deepthroat me again. I don't know what came over me but I wanted him to keep playing with my ass so I told him to finger my ass while he sucked me. He slide one finger into my ass and I shot the biggest load of my life into his warm mouth. He swallowed every drop. I was speechless. I stood up, thanked him and told him how amazing that was. "We should definitely do that again". For the next couple of days, this continued. He would blow me once or twice a day, eat my ass, and finger my hole. I started to give him handjobs to return the favour, and since he is hairless, I also would lick his ass. Yesterday, we were hooking up again in his room. It started with him sitting on my face while he sucked my dick. Greg sat back spreading his cheeks and helping my tongue push deep into his ass. He commanded me to bend over so he could fuck my ass with his tongue. I got on all fours, dripping precum onto his sheets. He grabbed my ass very firmly and pressed his tongue as deep as he could into me. I let out a loud moan and reached back to help push his face into my ass. Greg pulled back to get some air. "You like getting your ass tongue fucked?" he said, more a statement than a question really. "Yeah, so fucking much" I faintly responded. Greg grabbed my cock much more forcefully than he ever had and began to stroke me quickly. He licked and sucked my balls agressively for a moment, spit onto my asshole and then slide a finger, all the way to his knuckle, into me. I let out a loud gasp. "Holy fuck!" I moaned. I couldn't finish my thought but it felt so fucking good. Greg was not gentle with me now. He fingered my ass hard and spanked me hard with his other hand. I was panting like I had just run a marathon at this point and encouraging him, "harder .... faster ... don't stop". Greg put another finger in my ass. "Oh god, fuck ... fuck ... yes" I moaned. "Do you want me to fuck your tight ass baby?" Greg asked. I still wasn't able to form sentences or really process what was going on. Yes! Was the answer but I couldn't get the words out. Instead, I just reached back and spread my cheeks for him. Greg reached around to make me suck his fingers that were just in me. I latched on without a second thought. Then, he licked my ass for a minute before slowly pressing his cock into me. It was much, much bigger than his fingers. I clenched up at first, but quickly relaxed and pressed back against him. "Fuck, you're so tight" he said. Once his cock was all the way inside of me, he held it there for a moment. I could feel it flexing inside of me, it was so much more intense than him fingering me over the last week. Greg started with slow, shallow thrusts, responding to every gasp, moan, and whimper coming from me. As I relaxed more he went faster and faster, each stroke longer and longer. I was face down on his bed, with my ass in the air egarly taking his cock. It was a little bigger than average but felt enormous inside of me. I starred into his closet mirror so I could watch him pounding me while he spanked me hard, leaving hot hand prints on my cheek. "What the fuck am I doing?" I thought, and "why does this feel so fucking good?". "Get on your back" was his next command. I obeyed. I laid on my back with my legs hanging off the side of his bed. He stood at the end, grabbed my hips and put my legs over his shoulders. This is my favorite position to fuck girls in and now I was on the receiving end of what I knew was going to be a hard, fast fucking. I was nervous. It somehow seemed more intimate now that we were going to be looking at each others faces. I was also hoping I didn't cum to quick. My dick got soft when we switched positions but as soon as Greg was balls deep inside me, I was rock hard again. It was just as rough of a fucking as I expected. Within a minute or two I started to uncontrollably shoot my load all over my chest. Greg quickly grabbed my cock and pointed it at my mouth. I felt my thick, hot cum hit my face, and slowly opened my eyes and opened my mouth, sticking my tongue out as far as I could to catch my load. I don't know what I expected cum to taste like but I was surprised. It wasn't good or bad, it didn't really taste like anything and I kind of like the texture. Honestly I don't get why some people don't swallow ... anyway ... Greg pumped me for another couple of minutes. The entire time, my dick stayed hard and was leaking cum. I knew watching me taste my load turned him on so I wiped my cum off my chest and licked my fingers clean. "I'm going to cum" Greg panted. "Cum in my ass!" I begged. I felt each huge pulse of cum shoot inside of me. His load felt good but I really liked how his cock felt swelling each time he shot his load into me. Greg slowly slid his cock of out my ass and I could feel his load dripping out of me as well. Without breaking eye-contact, I moved towards him and took his cock into my mouth for the first time, cleaning him up. He fingered my cum filled ass while I suck his dick and then let me suck his fingers clean too. We laid in bed together, naked, sweaty, and me still drenched in both of our loads. We were silent aside of our heavy breathing. I asked how often "straight" guys let him fuck them, he laughed and just said "you would be surprised". I asked how often he gets fucked by "straight" guys and just replied "not enough". We showered separately (getting cum out of my ass for the first time is something I needed to do alone haha) but Greg said I could sleep in his room tonight if I wanted. I did. We slept naked. This morning, I woke Greg up by sucking his cock. Before letting him cum it was my turn to pound his ass. Up until recently I've never considered myself bi, but I guess I am. I don't find guys attractive oddly enough but I enjoy cock quite a lot. Greg's a slut haha so I don't think things are going to get weird between us, we're just fuck buddies now. I'm still ready for quarantine to be over but am looking forward to more nights like last night while we wait.

as long as I am well lubed in an intimate situation I like it to go long. My best friend could stay erect after cumming and could continue for a very long time 30-45 minutes. I haven't been taken my several at a time but I think there I would like shorter times like cum in 3 to 4 minutes then another go in me and on and on.

I love to bottom also as to the PA its 50-50 as some love and others hate.

My coworker has pretty much moved in and we've been fucking like rabbits. When i got home from work today he was there, naked with his hard cock jutting out in front of him. He grabbed me and backed me up against the wall as we made out. I put my arms around him and felt the tight muscles in his back. I love the feel of a man's naked skin and ran my hands over him. Reaching toward his cock he slapped my hand away and said "Don't touch it, bitch!" and then he turned me face toward the wall and i pulled my shirt off as he reached around and undid my pants and pushed them down so my ass was exposed. Lining his cock up with my hole i realized he was already lubed and i relaxed as he pushed into me and then began pounding me hard. He reached around to twist a nipple and i moaned and told him to fuck me HARD! As he fucked he pushed me up against the wall and the friction from the pounding made me cum all over the wall. He just pushed my cock harder into the cum as i heard the door open and close. I started to turn to see who it was but he turned my head back and told me not to look, that they were just here for my hole and he began to piston drive into me. I felt his load lube my ass and he pulled out so one of the guys could take his place. Two guys bred my hole, calling me a fucking slut. After they bred me he let me look and it was 2 other friends that had used me. Pants still around my ankles i short walked the few feet over to him and kissed him passionately. I heard an Oh fuck! behind me and then one of the guys slid back into me and bred me again.

For me being poz came with the love of my life. I will explain! I meet my now husband of almost 12 years when he was still married with his now ex. He invited me to a sex party(safe) that he and his husband where giving did was October 2005. For him it was love at first sight (we discoverd that a few years later when I found old chatlog from MSN messenger). During the night he stayed really close to me almost the entire night. After that night we became friends and later very close friend. Me also with his husband. Before and during that I was haven some not so safe sex adventures that I didn't tell him. Well in February of 2006 that changed when we had our first 1 on 1 sexdate (it was always 3-some's or more and always was hisband present). That I used X for the very first time and we talked a lot and had sex very intimate. After that night we were both a little confused about what we were feeling. We then made the decision to just see were things would take us. So I May of 2006 we (me, husband and his ex) wanted to go to a free clinic to get tested on STD's so that we could stop using condoms. As this was my very time I was getting tested I asked my now husband I he would accompany me for the result (part for it being very nerve recking and a little bit because of what I had done during the last months of 2005) So when we were in the office there were 2 women (doctor and a nurse). When they told me I was HIV positive I felt that my life was over. My husband got of his chair and stood behind me and told me and I quote: "You will never be alone". He was there for me and what makes that extra special on that same day he got the news that he was tested positive for hepatitis B (he was much sicker then I was) So after a struggle with the final decision to leave his husband for me we started our relationship officially the beginning of September 2006. The day we met was 22 October 2005 and we got married exactly 3 years later on 22 October 2008 and this year we will celebrate our 12th anniversary. So I can say that getting the news I was poz brought me the love of my life.

Thanks for a well written story with an ending. Great time jerking off while reading.

This one? I loved it. Beautiful dick with a beautiful hole. “It's interesting what being broke will get a guy to do. A local "porn-newbie" let me know he was behind on his rent and willing to do "whatever it takes" to make a buck. After a lengthy parlay and the promise of a big amount of cash, he agreed to take knock-out pills a doctor buddy had given me. Serious knock-out pills. He said we could do what we wanted so long as he didn't have to know about it. He'd never been rawfucked, so I brought horse-hung daddy-stud JAY TAYLOR in. JAY deepfucked the slumbering tattoo'd beauty, dumping a big ol' juicy load up that baby-smooth blonde-boy ass. He called me the next day and said I was a son-of-a-bitch for not wiping the semen off his hole. Starring Jay Taylor and Jim” [think before following links] [think before following links] https://timstore.treasureislandmedia.com/what-i-cant-see-2-scene-04-sleeping-beauty/

this story keeps getting better...

No surprise at all. I find the flirting between you two rather sweet, as well as sexy. A real genuine joy for me to see ☺️

After Mike hung up the phone. He sat there bewildered for a few minutes. Did that just really happen? He never thought he would even hear from anyone and now he had spilled his sex life to a Dr’s assistant. (Was he even a real Dr?). His phone rang and scared him out of his thoughts. Looking at his phone he saw it was his oldest daughter. He spent the next hour talking with her and catching up. After hanging up he realized it was pretty late so he went to bed and dreamed about Dr’s offices and injections. The next morning he woke up early. He liked to start his weekends early and being Saturday he went for a morning ride on his bike. A quick ten miles on the trails, when he got back home, he jumped in the shower. He heard his phone ringing as he turned off the water. Jumping out quick he ran out to the bedroom naked and dripping, grabbing his phone he saw that it was the number that Jason had called from. Picking up, he said “Hello” “Hi, is this Mike?” ”Yes it is” ”Hey Mike, it’s Jason from Dr. X’s office. How’s your morning going?” ”I’m good thanks, how about you?” ”I’m great thanks! I just wanted to call and let you know that Dr. X has looked over your questionnaire and he really liked what he read. He would like to book an appointment for you if you are still wanting the insemination procedure?” ”Um yeah, I definitely would like that” ”Great! So we have an opening next Saturday at 8:00 AM if that will work for you.” ”Yes next Saturday works for me.” ”Perfect. Will you be available this afternoon around 1:00 PM? I would like to stop by and do a blood draw and swab if you have about 30 minutes?” ”Yes, I’m free this afternoon” ”Okay great! I will come by and we can do the blood draw and I will go over the process with you. I’ll just need your address” Mike gave Jason his address and they both said their good byes. Hanging up Mike checked his phone, it was a little after 11, he had some time to kill so he decided to go for a walk. During his walk, Mikes mind raced with the Turn of events over the last 24 hours. He’d gone from wondering if he would ever be seroconverted, how it would happen, when it would happen, and with who? Now he had answered an ad on BZ thinking he would never hear anything and within 7 days he would potentially be receiving a viral load that could (or will according to the Dr) convert him. Mike knew deep down that he was ready. This truly was the next step for his journey. Being able to control his destiny was always his dream. Looking at his watch he saw that it was after 12:00. He turned around and walked back the way he had come. Anxious now to meet with Jason and find out more about the procedure and how it happens. Mike returned home and jumped back in the shower after sweating on his walk. After finishing up and dressing he heard his phone ding at him with a text message. Checking it he saw it was from Jason’s number. “On my way, will be there in about ten minutes.” Mike replied back “Okay, see you in a bit.” The next ten minutes seemed to go by so slow. But finally Mike heard a knock on his door. Opening it, he found a good looking gentleman are 30 years old. Blonde hair, deep blue eyes, about the same height and weight as his 6 ft 185 pound frame. ”Hi are you Mike?” He asked “Yes I am” he replied.

Part 4 Dirk moved his cock back to the sluts hole, he was going to destroy the dumb sluts ass to make sure that his toxic cum takes hold of the slut blood vessels. He loves to breed dumb whores like Mike. He was trying to go as deep as possible in Mikes ass, soon he was feeling the entrance of Mike second ring. The slut could only moan in full pleasure. How does it feel babes are you feeling good, Mike was nodding yes like crazy. Baby did you take prep before you came to me????? Mike could only move with his face, just saying no. Hmmm you naughty boy, you know it is dangerous playing unprotected and let strangers fuck you; i guess you are a slut loving to live dangerous and on the edge. Daddy will take good care of you, no need to chase around anymore to find toxic loads, daddy has everything you need deep in my balls here, and it will go all up to your ass baby. The guys where edging Dirk on to poz the slut on, to breed the whore, make him a member of the poz brotherhood. Mike was listening to Dirks words, but could not make anything of it, he was just enjoying the ride, he needed to be fucked, he hopes Dirk would never stop fucking him. He was falling in love witht this guy, he had never a feeling like this, he never experienced such kind of sex. Dirk was pushing deeper in the whores ass making sure his dick was touching all sides of the cunts asswalls, and hopefully cause a bit of damage. The caverject was working well on his dick, the stuff did do wonders, better then this lame fuckpills. With the caverject he was able to cum up to 7 times per night, and the amounts where always very royal, enough to breed some unwilling whores. The bitch was in heat, he could feel his asswalls milking his dick for the precious carg, but Dirk was not ready to shoot just yet. He had to do a bit more damage to the cunts ass. He was pulling his dick back from the cunt, and getting out of bed. Mike was moaning and shaking his head in dispair, he wanted the dick back in his ass, he was making crazy noises to beg for the dick plugging his ass but without any result. No worry whore, your ass will be filled again real quick, just a bit patience i have to call some mates first, they might like your cunt aswell. Dirk was taking a large black dildo and was aiming for the cunts ass, he smacked some crisco on the cunts ass, and on the dildo, and did start to insert the dildo in the winking pucker. The slut was moaning hard, Dirk knew that it must be painfull, because the dildo is oversized but that was the general idea. Slowly he was turning the dildo in opposite directions nd in the meantime going deeper in the cunts hole. When the dildo was lodged deep, he cleaned his hands and did take his mobile phone. Dirk was making some pictures of the whore bounded, face down, cuffed, blindfolded and high as a kite with a large dildo sticking out of his cunt for his buddies. He ckecked the pictures he made, and they where first class hard porn, he was moving to the front of Mike and did move his phone from foto modus to film modus. He grabbed the hair of Mike and tugged on his hair while filming the face of the whore, he filmed the painfull grimass of Mike and started talking to him. "You like daddies dick babes? You like to get fucked by my bare dick baby, you want daddy shoot up your neg cunt babes. Although it was painfull to move his face due to the grip of hair by Dirk, the cunt was nodding like crazy and moaning like a pig. You want daddy to invite some friends to play? Some more dicks to play and breeding your cunt? Dirk moved back to the back of the cunt, loosening the cuffs and removing the gagg from the whores face, but keeping him blindfolded. The slut was smacking and licking his lipps, obvious very thristy. Dirk did take a bottle of water and handed it to the whore so he could take a drink, and he kept filmi,g the whole time. The bitch was so high he could tell, his face was flushed and his hair did stick to his face. Tell me Mike do you want me to invite some friends to play with you? Mike was unsure what to say, was Dirk testing him? When he would say yes, he might think that he had not enough by one partner, and maybe when he would say no, Dirk could be insulted not letting him inviting his friends. Suddenly he was slapped hard in the face, his cheek was stinging like crazy after the slap, Mike was schocked by the sheer violence. Dirk was making sure that he filmed the shock on the face of Mike, and to the pleasure of the internet viewers. Tell me what you want whore, my friends are awaiting your answer Mike, speak to me!!!!!! Mike did follow his heart, he needed to be fucked, he was desperate for cock so he did reply. Please Sir fuck me, please invite your friends, but please do not hurt me, i do whatever you want, but please do not hit me. Bang, another slap followed, what do you want bitch, tell me. Mike was close to tears, but did feel excitement to, please Sir invite your friends to fuck me Sir, i need your cocks deep inside me. Slap, another one in the face, beg for it whore i want to hear if you want our loads up your neg cunt, beg me bitch. Please Sir can i have your cum please, can i be fucked and filled by your friends? That was all Dirk needed to persuade his friends, not that they needed any persuasion, they where good gifters to neg cunts, and they where heavily pierced and tattooed. Dirk was going to the back of Mike and was pushing him into the doggy position, yanking out very rough the dildo which brought out a scream of Mike and he was pushing his dick into the gaping hole of the whore. He watched the guys on the net who where watching, and there where some guys severe wanking their pozdicks. Time to bring out the big guns to get the party starting. He was calling Hugo, his best friend, Hugo was partnered with James they where so long together that they almost did look identical to each other. Hugo and James where 2 big bears heavily tattooed and pierced and proud to be poz. They where both tops, and into heavy scenes and did like making porn where they would convert stupid cunts into the poz world. They had a close relationship to Dirk, and they often did share their prey with Dirk, and vice versa. The phone was ringing, and James did answer the phone on speaker while Hugo was sitting next to him. Whats up buddy, how is it hanging????? Dirk smirked and said, hihihi not hanging boys, just parked my hard dick in a destroyed ass of a neg cunt, he is high as a kite and begging for Dick, are you interested???? Hmmm sounds good, answered James and Hugo together. Will send you a vid in a sec, so you can make up your mind, the whore is begging to be pozzed, so bring your heavy dicks, and but in your best PA so we can give him what he wants. The boy likes it rough so do not hold back. I am deepdicking him now, and he will get his first poz load right know, 2 weeks of toxic cum ready to fill his neg cunt. Hmmmm Dirk poz the cunt Hugo was shouting out.

I cheat especially when my bf and i travel. somehow having sex with someone in our bed is a huge turn on for me. my bf loves pound and dump so i always look for someone else's top husband who is into passionate sex. long foreplay and breed my ass. one time, bf came back literally after i just got bred by someone, didnt have time to clean up, he buried his horny cock in my ass, told me i was wet. I lied that i was getting ready, after he added another load in me, lots of cum drip out of slutty hole. he was surprised thinking he shot huge loads in me....hot

The cleaner in the office and I got chatting about social distancing and bugs whilst was cleaning the gents toilet on Friday last week. Anyway, he lots of wipes and both wore masks and we thought what the fuk! Got an Indian load in my arse and a disinfectant wipe down afterwards. I now know his schedule for cleaning during the Lockdown and gotta not work-from-home one those days.

I left the hospice and headed straight for the park. I had heard that cruising could be pretty hot in the evening. The park actually closes at dusk but guys must park close by and walk in. from what I understand it can we get pretty wild in the woods there at night. It was almost desk when I arrived, my cock was hard in my pants already. I decided to park at an old restaurant about a quarter mile from the park entrance. I pulled in and parked my car in the back corner where couldn’t be seen from the road. I got out of the car and open the trunk. I stripped down there in the parking lot and put my street clothes in the trunk of the car. I pulled out my gym bag and put on a pair of basketball shorts and a tight T-shirt. I was going commando. I wanted it as a little between me and hard cock as possible. The T-shirt showed my nice broad chest and the basketball shorts showed off my ass. I slipped on some running shoes locked up the car, and took a jog down the road to the park. I took a turn into the park and jogged almost all the way up right to the restrooms. The restrooms were an old cinderblock building with men’s on one end and women’s on the other end. I decided to Check out the toilets before I went back in the woods. There were still plenty of light. I pushed open the outer door and it’s squeaked really loud. I stepped through the inner door and stood for a minute while my eyes were adjusting to the dim light. As my eyes adjusted I became aware of a man leaning back against the wall opposite me. He looked to be in his 40s probably just over 6 feet tall. His body was lean,nhis face was angular. He has short hair And salt and pepper stubble on his face. His eyes were smoky and he oozed sensuality. he wore a sleeveless flannel shirt unbuttoned all the way. He had a nicely hairy toned torso and a pair of jeans that rode low and showed the V pointing down to a really fat package. He was wearing black work boots scuffed up and untied at the tops. The fucker leered at me as I scanned him up and down the lust on my face obvious. “ like what you see faggot? “ He said. His voice was husky and sensual. This fucker just oozed sex and sexuality. Every time he moved his body was somehow suggestive and a little obscene. His hips were slightly thrust out. The bulge in his jeans was growing. My cock tented in my shorts. This man’s presence was causing every perverted thought I could have to rise in my brain. ”Yeah. I do like what I see.” I said stepping to the middle of the room. He reached down and flipped open the top button of his jeans. It was all I could do not to rush over fall in my knees lower his zipper and take whatever was in there out. Take it deep into my throat. I couldn’t believe how bad I wanted this man. I felt possessed. I wanted him but some force kept me in the middle of the room. he reached down and rubbed his package. His jeans opened up a little more. His trimmed pubes showed and the base of his cock came interview. His cock grew down one leg of his pants he was hung it looked to be about nine or 10 inches. A wet spot was forming in his jeans. ”Strip faggot” he ordered his hand sliding down into his jeans “strip it off now. I want to see your faggot body. I want to see what needs my AIDS babies.” I stripped off slowly. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This guy wanted to give me aids. I reach down slowly pulled my T-shirt up over my torso. Pulled it up over my head. Let it drop to the floor. I reached down slowly slid my shorts off until they fell in a pile of my feet I stepped out of them. My cock was fully hard. Straining, leaking pre-cum like crazy. “Tell me what you want faggot”, he said. He leered me and pushed his pants down his hips a few inches. A biohazard tattoo came into view at his left hip. And on his right hip a scorpion tattoo. “you want this don’t you faggot?” he said sticking his tongue out obscenely and slipping his pants a little further down. His cock was about to pop out. .” Yes. I want it. I don’t want anything more than I want that.”I said “please give me aids.” “I know who you are.”;He said, “my sister and her kids go to your church. I’d love to give you my aids babies. Bring you over to the Darkside. Sacrifice your ass to the dark one.” My cock throb and his words. I drooled at the thought of sacrificing myself to the devil. I had seen videos, especially popper videos, about dark lust and perversion. my gut caught on fire. My ass hole twitched. I knew what I wanted now. And I knew he would give it to me. Or at least I hoped he would give it to me. The light in the room was fading fast as the sun went down. He shoved his pants down a little further and his cock popped out, hanging there and dripping pre-cum. The end of it was pierced.his cock head held a brass ring with a spike the ball on it. ”This will give you what you need faggot” he sneered “get on your knees and worship.” I didn’t need any encouragement. I took a few steps across the room and stood in front of him. He reached up and grabbed my hair pulled my head back spit, in my face. ”Suck my dick faggot” he said and pushed me down to my knees. His cock was right at my mouth. It Glistened with pre-cum. i leaned forward and took the head of his cock in my mouth, the ring brushed against my teeth. I tasted the sweet tang of his pre-come, his toxic pre-come. I slid my mouth over the head of his cock. And took it deep into my throat. I felt the spiked ball rubbing against my throat and my tongue. Rubbing it raw. Making openings for his toxic pre-come. He growled at me. “Nice faggot. Nice faggot cock sucker.” I worked his cock up and down slow savoring every bit of it. Putting that ring between my teeth and pulling gently. Tugging at his balls til he moaned in appreciation he grabbed the back of my head and started face fucking me and talked filthy to me. Suddenly. He grab the back of my head with both hands. And yanked my head back. He pushed me back onto the floor. “Do you like that faggot?” He asked. He was pointing his cock in me “yes I answered I adore your hot fucking poz cock. I want your aids babies up my ass.” I answered. My voice hoarse from the beating his cock had given my throat. Without warning a stream, a full hot stream, of piss shot from the end of his cock. It arced through the air and hit me in the chest. I felt the warmth. Smelled that smell of piss. He twitched his cock in the stream hit my face. Instinctively I opened my mouth. I let his hot piss fill my mouth. I swallowed. Over and over. Trying to keep up. I never knew a guy could piss so much. He went down to my chest again. Covering my torso with His piss. “You’re such a faggot.”He laughed at me. As the stream of pissed subsided. “I have one question for you faggot.” He said. “Are you on prep. Are you taking those drugs to kill my babies?” ”I just stopped prep today,” I said. he stepped over me grab the back of my head and yanked me up by the hair to my knees. He slapped me hard across the face two or three times with this cock. “Then you’re not worthy of my gift faggot” he said. He reached around to his back pocket and pulled out a black sharpie marker and pulled my head back. On my left pec he wrote an email address. “Email me in 30 days” he said. “Then we’ll talk about you getting my aids babies. Then we’ll talk about you becoming one of his legion. Right now I have a kid coming over here. I’m going to give him his first toxic load. You can stay and watch if you want.” he grabbed my clothes off the floor and threw them into a stall. He ordered me into the stall and told me to either get dressed and leave or stay and watch him convert an 18-year-old college freshman. he He followed me over to the stall. I wanted to watch some kid give up his clean ass to the hot demon fucker. But I also needed a cock. A I bent over to pick up my clothes the man came up behind me. I felt his hard cock against my ass and I froze. “Just to give you a taste of what is to come,” he sneered and then he spit on my ass, put his cock up against it, and shoved it all the way in with one long stroke. As I caught my breath from his attack, I felt his cock sliding in and out in long strokes hitting my prostate. It was such a bliss. I moaned and pushed back. Suddenly my hole was empty. “30 days faggot”he said “now grab your clothes and get the fuck out of here. See ya in church”

Well, I finally found the pornhub scene again (the original post above was from before I created an account, so the scene didn't get saved in history). After a couple of hours of poking around related videos and so on, I finally winkled it out... The adorable cub is (a rather young looking) Parker Allen! But the tatts look kind of wrong because in the clip, you can see his inner arm (unusual in porn) and that fish tattoo is prominent - normally you would never see or notice it. Also they look wrong because in the posted version of the clip the image is mirrored, so everything is on the wrong side. And, I figured out which scene it is... it's a private clip from David-SF, who just happens to be the top in this scene! It's posted on his Xtube, and has been a favorite of mine for ages. I even linked it here in the xtube vids thread. So now I have to feel stupid because I didn't figure it out. But it's still such a super hot scene. I could look into Parker Allen's adorable eyes all night long, blowing multiple loads while doing so. YUM. [think before following links] https://www.xtube.com/video-watch/david-sf-amp-parker-allen-late-night-hook-up-iml2017-30936882 Gee, maybe I'm getting a little stir-crazy with all this shelter-in-place stuff, what do you think? 😉

We woke about an hour later and crawled out of the tent. "Feelin' better?" I asked Louis. He smiled back at me and said "Yeah, much better. "How about we go for a short ride?" I asked. Louis looked back at me curiously. "Just a ride" I said to him. We grabbed our stuff and headed toward the bikes. There were a lot of eyes watching where we headed and I'm sure more than a few sighed in relief when we got to our bikes. There was a guy kneeling next to one of the big Harley tourers, polishing it. "Hey, how's it going?" I asked. "Doin' good. How 'bout yourself?" the guy replied. He turned around and I looked him over. The biker was a tall skinny guy that was probably about 50. He was wearing some well worn jeans, no shirt, a leather vest with a bunch of patches on it and some engineer boots like Louis's, but with a lot more wear. He had a long braided ponytail with streaks of gray that reached past the middle of his back and a small patch of chest hair between his pecs with a little trail into his jeans. "Can't complain. Looks like another good day for a ride" I said back. The guy nodded back and stood, tucking his cleaning rag into the saddle bag. "Yeah it is. Was just about to head out for a little ride, want to join me?" the guy asked. Normally, I wouldn't say 'yes' since I like to be the one leading and in control. Something told me that this might be a good time to make an exception. I was only planning on being out a couple hours, so we could just break off whenever we wanted. "Uh, sure. You know some good winding roads around here?" I answered. The guy chuckled and said "More than a few. Been around here my whole life. By the way, my name is John, but my friends call me Hawk." "Good to meet you Hawk. I'm Ryan and this is my friend Louis. Lead the way" I replied. We all fired our bikes up and pulled back on to the highway. Hawk started out a little slow and I was worried I had made a mistake. Just as I was tying to think of an excuse to go our own way, he picked up the pace. I realized as he kicked it up another notch he was a seasoned ride leader. He knew to slowly build up pace to see what the guys behind him were comfortable with. He was also a damn good rider. Hawk had that big hog dancing down the road, sparks flying off on some of the turns as he leaned it over and dragged the floorboards along the tarmac. I was enjoying the spirited ride and had no idea where we were or where we were headed. I looked back and saw Louis right on my tail, his opened jacket flapping in the wind. We pulled up to a stop sign and I noted the intersection - County Road C and County Road Y. Hawk motioned to the right and we took off down CR-Y. The road was narrow and must have been carved out of the forest by a really drunk bulldozer driver. There were lots of dips, hills, twists and turns that made it feel like we were on a rollercoaster. Hawk slowed down as we got to one of the few straight sections of road and pulled down a gravel road. The sign said "Towering Pines County Park" and we followed the road back about a quarter mile to a clearing with a few picnic tables and fire pits. A deer stood at the edge of the clearing and watched us ride in and when we got too close, took off into the forest. "Smoke break" Hawk said after we turned the bikes off. He pulled a pack of Reds out of his bike's trunk and lit one up. I pulled my jacket off and laid it on the bike and Louis did the same. The light breeze felt good against my sweaty skin as I pulled out a blunt from a baggie in my jacket pocket. "Nice ink... on both of you" Hawk said as he took a long drag on his cig and smiled back at us. "Thanks. That's actually where we met, at the tattoo shop" Louis said. He took the blunt from me and took a long hit, almost killing it. I was kind of surprised he did it, since he had told me before that he didn't drink when he rode. How much different was getting a little stoned? I looked around and I could see Hawk wanted to say something but was hesitating. "You guys really did a number on the guy and his son this morning. Thanks for putting that cocky sonofabitch in his place" Hawk said after a long pause. "Just taking advantage of the cuffs, Hawk. Besides, I always wanted to fuck a real dad and son" I replied with a chuckle. "He was a pain in the ass last night. He wanted to fuck anything that moved. Heard from a couple guys that he wasn't that good, either. At least I could escape and go home n fuck my ol' lady" Hawk said. "So you weren't part of the group that fucked us?" Louis asked. "Nah, that's not my thing. If I'm with a guy I want to be gettin drilled" Hawk said with a grin as he stubbed his cig out. I looked around and then rubbed my crotch "I think we can help you out with that" I said. Louis's eyes opened wide as I moved closer. Hawk kneeled down on the grass and reached up as I stood in front of him. He unbuckled my belt, unzipped my jeans and pulled them down a little. He buried his face in the pouch of my dirty jock, breathing in deep. "Oh fuck yeah" he said as he licked and bit on the fabric covering my cock. I wasn't sure what was soaking my jock's pouch more - his spit or my precum. He spent a few minutes like this before he pulled my stiff cock out of the pouch and began to suck. Louis stood back several feet and watched, first rubbing his cock through his jeans and then pulling it out and stroking. Hawk was no stranger to sucking dick and kept going down, deepthroating my cock with his nose buried in my rank jock. My cock was rock hard and it felt good in his throat but I wanted to fuck him too. I pulled my cock out of his mouth slowly and Hawk took my cock in his hand and slapped it on his face. I'm sure the PA hurt as it slapped his cheek, but he still looked up at me with a grin. I nodded my head toward Louis and he moved over on his knees to get closer to him. I bent over and reached under, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. When he took Louis' cock in his mouth, I tugged up on his hips and got him bent over. I pulled his jeans and underwear down and then off so all he was wearing was his leather vest. Kneeling down, I dragged my tongue up his cock, over his balls, along the taint to his puckered hole. I pulled his hairy butt cheeks apart, pushing my face in and breathing in his scent. I lapped around his hole and dug my tongue in, getting his ass, hole and my beard soaked in spit. You can tell when a guy loves having his ass eaten and Hawk seemed to be in heaven. Louis and I were taking turns pushing in deeper and while I heard lots of moaning, I also heard a few gags from Hawk. I gave Hawk's ass a few squeezes and then a slap on each one before I stood up behind him. I dragged my cock along his slick crack and pressed in. Hawk pulled off of Louis's cock and looked back at me. "Fuck all ya want, but don't cum on or in me. My ol' lady gets pissed when she smells cum on me" he said before swallowing Louis' cock again. I appreciated him telling me at the start, so I could pace myself. I would have liked to fuck to completion but I had to respect Hawk's needs to keep his other half happy. I pressed in and felt his hole swallow my cock. He even gave his ass a wiggle as I sunk in all the way. I slowly stroked my cock into his hole building up speed and length. Hawk was a good fuck, he knew how to work his ass but not overdo it. My pace slowed down as I felt I was getting close. After a few minutes of slow fucking, I gave a few hard shoves and then sped back up. I looked over and Louis had just opened his eyes. The grin on his face told me he was enjoying Hawk's mouth. I nodded with my head and he gently grabbed Hawk's head and stopped him before tilting his head up and said "Now it's my turn." I slowed down and then pulled out just as Louis walked up next to me. Hawk's hole was empty for only a few seconds and then Louis pushed in. I turned Hawk and Louis a little to the left and let Hawk brace himself on the picnic table. Louis plowed in and soon had a good pace going. The thrusts in were faster than his withdrawals but both he and Hawk were moaning, so they must have liked it. While I didn't cum in Hawk, I did leave a large amount of spit and precum inside him and you could hear the sounds of Louis' cock in his sloppy hole even over their moans. Louis kept getting more aggressive in his fuck and I hoped that he wouldn't go too far and shoot his load. Even worse, I hoped he didn't get to the point where he pulled out and left himself blue-balled. Louis slowed down as I saw a look in his face I had seen many times before. He leaned over, laying on Hawk's back and giving his hips a few more thrusts. I heard him whisper "Thanks, that's one hot ass you have." Louis pulled Hawk up with him as he stood, holding him tight for a few moments before he let him go. We stood there looking at each other with huge grins until I broke the silence with "That was one damn good smoke break." We pulled up our jeans and headed back to our bikes. I took a few gulps from a water bottle before tossing it to Louis to finish off. With the bikes fired up we followed Hawk down a few more twisty roads until we ended up back at the campground. Our three bikes rolled inside to our old parking spots and we turned them off. I got off my bike and made sure it was stable on the dirt before walking over to Hawk. I slapped him on the back and squeezed his shoulder. "Thank's man. That was an awesome ride" I told him and Louis nodded, giving him a fist bump. Louis and I walked back to our tent to drop off our gear. As we got there I asked "How's your balls?" Louis laughed and said "A bit sore." "I guess you should do something about that. Got any ideas who?" I asked. Louis just grinned at me and headed down the path.

I love it. but what I love even more is waking u with a guys cock in my ass and having no idea who is fucking me. that started happening a lot at parties in high school and continued when I would sleep in a bathhouse sling or on a fuckbench

I’m no mussel bound male but a skinny 5ft7 120lbs twink. I did not have much to begin with, so instead of shaving, I had whatever hair I had on my body permanently removed by laser. Now no more shaving hair stubbles or ingrown hairs hairless as the day I was born from the neck down.

In his defence, I humbly disagree. I met George Mason (Hung Young Brit, bottoming in this vid / topping in others) very briefly at Manchester Pride a couple years ago (he lives in London but was up for Pride I assume). I was working a booth and he came through. He was only there for a few minutes (5 give or take) but I was hard the entire time he was around. He is playing a character here (the chav / scally stereotype); there may be elements of that in his real persona but definitely being played up here. That said he did recently get into some legal trouble when he and another guy had sex on the London Underground (with another friend recording) and then uploading the video to (I think) Twitter.

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

PART 3 Dean was focused on the laptop in front of him and quickly said “OK, there we go. Two more ads, one on Craig’s list, and one on BBRT. That should find us more more hot cocks to rape these two cumdumps. What do you say, faggots? You ready for some more randos to use your pussies? Here’s the ad: “Five guys, 18-30, partying together, three vers, two sloppy, loaded up bottom cumdumpsters, looking for other nasty pigs 18-40 to party some more, breed these dirty little fags, treat them like the whores they are. We’re into most nasty stuff, piss and fist to the head of the line. Send pics and come join us to get nasty.” Chris and I looked at each other and both got a shit-eating grin on our faces. I had four loads of sperm in my hole and Chris had 7. I needed to catch up. I needed to get more loads than Chris or at least catch up to him. I couldn’t let him outdo me when it came to getting my cunt loaded up. Dean posted the two ads on CL and BBRT but I also changed my Scruff and Growlr ads to show myself being more of a slut, debasing myself for loads. No load refused. I laid my phone on he bed next to me so I could respond to the messages quickly. I knew that my compact 18 year old hairy ass would quickly find some takers who wanted to breed me and once they were here they’d probably wanna breed Chris as well. Everyone wins. And I’d never tried piss before, so I wanted to see what that was about. As soon as the ads posted we started to get responses. Dean just smiled and I could tell he was just going to say yes and not give Chris or I any say in who came over to rape us. That was just fine with me. I’m a whore. I don’t get to pick and choose who shoves their cock in me. My cunt simply exists to let any cock use it and dump loads in it. The sooner that’s clear to the men fucking me, the better. I’m pretty sure Dean and Eric understood just how much of a whore I was. I know Chris did. He was lying on the bed next to me, sucking Eric’s cock lazily, trying to bring it back to life (I later found out they had all taken Cialis so they wouldn’t have a problem getting hard from the crystal). Eric was shoving his cock down Chris’ throat, making him deep throat it and moaning. “You nasty little faggot. You just want me to get hard again so I can rape you some more. Your fucking cunt is insatiable. I wonder if we can beat your record 22 loads in a weekend. You think, baby?” Chris looked up at Eric and smiled. “Whatever my Daddy wants, my Daddy gets. My cunt just lives to serve cock." Chris totally got me. Jose had gone into the other room, and Dean motioned me onto the floor. “Here, pig. Put this in your cunt so none of that sperm leaks out. You too, whore.” He handed me a fat buttplug and tossed an identical one to Chris. Eric grabbed it out of the air and made his lover turn around. He scooped up some of the cum that was leaking out of Chris’ ass and used it to lube up the plug and then shove it in with one push. Chris yelped. “FUCK, baby! That plug feels GOOD in my pussy. Don’t wanna waste any of that nice jizz.” Chris grabbed the plug out of my hand and motioned for me to turn around. Then he did the same thing, scooping up the jizz and lubing up the plug. “Here is comes, faggot.” With that he shoved the plug all the way inside me. My cunt was split open and it felt SO fucking good. I knew I was going to have to get some plugs of my own. This one was nice and fat and filled my cunt up, but only succeeded in making me more desperate for cock inside me. Dean grabbed his cock, which was half hard, and then my head and shoved it down my throat. His cock was nice and fat and fit down my throat really well, but I was hoping that he would get it hard enough to fuck me some more. My whole body was thinking about my need for cock in my ass. It was almost like I was just a hole. A receptacle for cocks. “That’s a good boy. Just nurse on my cock for a while so I can sort through these boys who wanna come over and pull a train on your fagdumps.” Eric got up and sat down next to Dean, and Chris followed him, kneeling on the floor in front of his boyfriend, so we could both suck on their cocks. “What do you think of this one,” Dean said. Eric smiled and said “fuck yeah, look at that cock. I wanna see him split them both open.” Dean laughed and said “not sure that will happen, they’re both pretty sloppy right now.” They both laughed. Jose came back into the room, holding a small bag. He said “I think we need to take this party to the next level. You ready, piggies?” They all laughed and said “fuck yeah!” Dean looked at me, pulled my mouth off his cock and said “you ever slammed before Justin? You ready for us to turn you into a HOLE?” I already felt like a total hole, so I wondered how much more I could feel, but I knew that I needed more cock, so I just grinned and said “fuck yeah. As long as it means more cum in my pussy, then I want it.” “Good,”Dean said. “We probably weren’t going to give you a choice anyway. But I had a feeling you wouldn’t say no. You’re a nasty little piggy. I can’t wait to teach you all about the depths of depravity." I still wasn’t entirely sure what they were talking about, but I didn’t care. I went back to sucking on Dean’s cock. Jose sat between Eric and Dean on the sofa, and I Chris and I took turns sucking on his cock as well. I was dying to get his load in my cunt as well instead of just in my mouth. Dean shut his laptop at the same time I heard my phone buzz. I grabbed it and saw a text from Daddy. “How you doing baby boy? You being a good whore for those boys?” I texted him back. “Fuck yes, Daddy! Thank you! I have five loads in me now and some more guys are coming over to breed me and the other bottom. They got me high and I feel amazing. I feel like a hole. Just a fucking cum hole. I hope you’re proud of me. I never said no” I waited a moment and the reply came “That’s my boy. Daddy raised you right. You enjoy those cocks and loads and when you come home, Daddy will have a surprise for you.” Dean looked over at me and said “who you chatting with, piggy?” “Just my Dad,” I said. “You should invite him over so he can watch his own son get gang raped by strangers. That’s what he wanted isn’t it?” Dean grinned and stroked his cock while he played with his hairy chest. “Really? I dunno if he’d wanna come over.” I turned back to the phone and texted him with the address. Then I saw that there were Growlr and Scruff messages and since I was just a cumdump, I handed the phone to Dean so he could answer them. “Here you answer the messages on my phone. I don’t get to choose who breeds me, all I know is I need cock inside me and I need it soon.” The rest of the boys laughed out loud and Eric grabbed the phone from Dean. “My turn.” He swiped quickly through the messages and showed a couple of the guys to Dean. After a few minutes I could feel my cunt throbbing from desire and the buttplug that was deep inside me, opening up my hole for the cock raping to come. Then I heard the doorbell ring. Dean smiled and kissed me and Chris in turn. “OK, piggies. It’s showtime. Dumpsters on the bed. Ass up, face down.” Eric went to answer the door and I could hear him talking to two men. All I heard was “Yeah, we both just need a cunt to unload in. Sounds like your tweaked out bottoms are pretty greedy.” Eric laughed and said “You have no idea.” Eric walked back into the bedroom with two new guys in tow who both quickly removed their clothes. Both of them were tall, muscled college age guys, kind of “bro” in their look but with a nasty, pierced, pervy edge. One them was covered in thick blonde hair and had a beard, the other one was more smooth and had a dark beard. Yum. They both sported nice fat cocks, which I knew were going to feel amazing raping my cumdump. They introduced themselves as Josh and Dan. They pulled out pipes and started smoking and Jose said “we were just about to slam when you got here…..” Both of them smiled and Dan said “fuck dude, go ahead. I love breeding a cumdump that’s slammed up and begging for dick like a whore. Can I put my cock inside his pussy before you slam him?” Jose laughed and said “sure, dude.” Then I pulled my legs over my shoulders and presented my cunt to the assembled cocks for raping. I gave a gentle push and the plug popped out of me and I could feel sperm dripping down my legs. Jose pulled out five syringes and told Chris and I to lie on our backs. He and Eric put straps around our arms while Dean began to do himself. “You’re going to feel a little prick,” Eric said to me. “For the last time tonight, judging by the cocks in this room,” Dean laughed. I felt the needle pierce my skin. Eric walked me through what was going to happen. “You’re going to feel a rush. Just ride it out. You may cough a lot. Just go with it. We’re here. You’ll be fine.” Josh put his pipe down (but not before giving me yet another shotgun) and started to jerk his hard cock. “You ready to get raped, faggot? I’m gonna fucking knock your cunt up.” He got on the bed and shoved his cock in my about to be slammed up cumdump. He held it there, and Dan leaned over to give Josh a shotgun, which he then passed to me. While I was taking the smoke in, I watched Eric pull the plunger back and it registered red, and then he pushed the clear, thick liquid into my vein. He reached up and removed the strap from my arm and I felt the rush. I was suddenly very hot and began to cough. I had never felt so horny before in my life. Dan reached over and passed me another shotgun and said “Let’s get this faggot SPUN and RAPED.” I laid back on the bed and caught my breath. “Guys I really need you all inside me. Maybe at the same time. I gotta get your loads. I need them. Please fucking fuck me! You can do whatever you want to me, just give me your fucking cocks!” Josh was already inside me and started to pound my pussy hard before I even stopped coughing. I knew I was in for a long night, and I couldn’t wait. If things worked out well, Daddy would come over and see me serving my true purpose. Being gang raped by complete strangers and loving every minute of it.

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

2. Condemned There’s nothing you and I won’t do I’ll stop the world and melt with you The warm night air felt good. No, a shit fuck better than that. The night felt like it was groping him, diddling with his brain as much as booty. It felt outrageous being naked on a rooftop on a hot summer night, his first night in New York, with the breeze drying his matted hair. The city lights were so foreign, many lit windows from high-rises off in the distant, like far off stars, like oil tankers out on a black sea. It made him feel he's in an alien world; he is. In alien skin; he is. Time felt fluid, running backward and forward, never fixed. He smelled piss drying on his skin. He licked it reminding himself it's Manetti's stench he's wearing. It's the only thing he's wearing, except his brother's wet jock around his neck. How fucked up is that?! His tightening skin reminds him of how it used to be when he came out of the ocean back home, the feeling of salt drying under a blazing sun. Tonight, though, a full moon beamed overhead. As they clamored over embankments to the neighboring building, he's still rushing with the vulgarity of his thoughts. He’s not expressing them out loud anymore, but they're still running through his brain. He keeps coming back to a memory that a man just peed on him, that he's going to visit someone, naked, someone Manetti calls his ‘Master.’ He has no reference for what a Master is except for pictures in a magazine. It's part of an imaginary vocabulary. A Zeus figure or Mister Universe. More of a cartoon really. He's not really thinking though. His thoughts are like birds that have escaped their cage and flying lost in the air; freedom they’ve never had before and don’t know what to do with. Manetti leading him is the only thing that grounds him to earth. If he thinks at all it only happens in small bursts. Fragments. He's nervous. He sees his dick has shrunk. His balls feel cold and hide, shriveled up inside him. This moment he's nervous. The next he's more excited than nervous. He regarded Manetti' arms. He's still very horny. Manetti had enormous triceps that flexed under the full moon as he pulled himself over the half wall to the next building. Manetti reached out a hand and helped pull him up. The moon had a glowing ring around it. During the last full moon he was looking at it from the rear window of an Impala, made a decision he wasn’t going back to school the next day. Now here he is naked on a rooftop, being led on a dog leash. Life’s so strange; it is. Wait. There's a collar around his neck? When did that happened? Are there other things he's not remembering? The leash Manetti's holding is attached to his collar. That seems familiar now, part of the plan. Wait. What's the plan exactly? Another thought pops in his head while he's feeling the studs on his collar. He gathers some birds together to string out a sentence. Making sentences is hard and takes enormous effort. "This building,” he said in a hushed voice to Manetti, like someone was going to overhear them. “The one we're on. Sir. Walking on. Tink-tink." He shows him fingers like they're walking, like Manetti wouldn’t know what walking meant. "Yes?" said Manetti. They're at the next building's rooftop hatch. "The front door said 'condemned.' This one." Chris pointed downward. He closed his eyes. A picture formed from a few hours ago. Metal buttons. His brother's name on tape. He steps in a puddle, real time, right now, in his bare feet on the tar roof. He's back in the here and now. It's warm, the puddle. He thinks he’d like to sit down in it. A leash tugs him on. He’s never been on a leash before. He kind of likes it. He could see himself being a dog. Maybe a pet for Manetti and his brother. He’d sleep on the floor, he would. His mind is flying off. Wet shoes that squished. He remembered that. He was cold. When was that? "This building," he said to Manetti absently. "The front door and all the windows were boarded up. Like no one’s home." "That's what Master wants people to think." Manetti popped open the hatch and pointed down the stairs. Chris looked in and descended into the darkness. It's quiet except for the creak of the stairs. Chris' heart raced. He relied heavily on the banister going down, but this feeling of nervous excitement, palpitations, it never leaves him, not since Manetti stuck the needle in his arm. When was that? Wet shoes. He's lost the thread. He's anxious to meet Manetti's Master. He’s curious what Manetti's Master could possibly look like. He gathered birds and released them to Manetti. "What's he like, Sir? Master Drax." Moonlight poured from the skylight over the stairs onto their bare shoulders. He can’t see what’s in the shadows. Formless things. Nameless. It’s the drugs that make him imagine things that aren't there, he told himself, but he’s walking slower. Manetti had to keep nudging him forward so he doesn't bump into him. Manetti sensed Chris was having second thoughts. As they walked the long hall, Manetti told Chris the short version of Master Drax, owner of a stable of boys, all kinds, he and Ben among them. A defrocked priest from Eastern Europe, they all, the stable boys, think. He talked to him in a voice you'd use to corral a young colt you were breaking in, inching him closer to the only door down the corridor. "And he publishes magazines, vanilla ones and hard core ones, too. You said you liked them, the ones under Ben's bed," Manetti suggested. "Do you think he know where my brother is?" Chris asked as they stopped at the door. Manetti put his hand on Chris' shoulder, as much a gesture calm him as well as making sure he wouldn't bolt. With the other hand he knocked. “I wouldn't ask him that tonight.” "I like Magnum." said Chris. They heard someone unlatch the door. “I wonder where he is.” "Maybe you can be in Magnum someday." The door opens and Chris jumps, backing into Manetti. *** A very tall, very lanky black man, a bit older than Manetti, examined the two visitors at the door. The young, very white one, was being propped up by the one he knew as Manetti. The man wore only a harness, naked otherwise, and was shaved from head to toe including his eyebrows. A very long, dangling cock gripped by a metal ring had a leather strap running from his cock to his chest, then split out to each bony shoulder and ran down his back. His cheeks were hollow, and his mouth was agape, and each tooth filed to a sharp point. Manetti pushed Chris away, but Chris quickly took a step back again. "Hello, Jamal," Manetti said. "We're expected." "Yes," the servant said, unfazed by the rudeness of scaredy-boy. "He is waiting in great room. This is the new one?" he asked in his faint island accent. Manetti nodded. Jamal appraised the kid with the wide blue eyes. There was a flicker of lust that brought out a grotesque smile. He then turned and led them down the hall. Manetti stepped in front of Chris, annoyed, yanked him along by his leash. Chris whispered in his ear, “The guy’s teeth.” Manetti quietly answered back, “Too many complaints about bad blow jobs so Master had all his teeth yanked out. Has to wear fake ones or nothing.” Chris scanned the crumbling walls as they walked. Pornographic graffiti filled every inch. Men with large pompadours, sailors, woodsmen, with big tits, big butts, and bigger cocks getting fucked and fisted, and were either pissing or spewing cum. Chris whispered again to Manetti, "Like hieroglyphics. Dirty ones." Manetti yanked his chain. "Stop talking." The hallway ended in a large living room. A fireplace, too hot to be lit, was filled with candles. Standing candelabras were also scattered throughout the room. A few Klieg lights stood dark in corners. The room was covered in peeling red paint. Tin plates on the ceiling were broken in areas where water had seeped in. The floor had rotted out years back. Now warm, stale air seeped up through the cracks of the floorboards. Two old black leather wingback chairs faced each other on both sides of the fireplace, a tattered leather couch between them. Master Drax, sipping a glass goblet of some blood-red liquid, motioned for Manetti to take the opposite chair. Chris stood between them facing the fireplace not knowing where to look after the first shock of seeing Master Drax. Manetti quickly spoke: "Kneel, boy. Eyes down." Chris knelt staring at the candles on the lip of the fireplace. What brief glance he’d gotten of the sitting man, was that he possessed the biggest cock he’d ever seen; it's played in his mind. Even Jamal’s ringed cock paled to the black clad figure. "Michael, where is his cage?" Master Drax asked. "Put it on him." Manetti rose and went down on one knee to hook the chastity cage over Chris' genitals. He took Chris’ arms and placed them behind his back. Once the cage was locked, Manetti rose and handed the key to his Master. It was the first time Chris ever had his penis and balls shackled. The metal was cold and constricted tightly around him like a vice. If he felt helpless before, he now felt hopeless. Chris tried to give the Master a fast sideways glance but only saw Jamal who stood behind him. He smirked his razor grin from the sidelines. "Has he at all been hard since you drugged him with, what, methamphetamine?" Chris looked down to see his cock was indeed shriveled to the size of a peanut inside the cage. "Yes, Master Drax. He actually has a nice piece on him. So scrawny, he looks above average." "Really?" Master Drax said in somewhat disbelief. "Tell me, Michael, exactly have you given him so far? A full account, if you would." "Eight drops of GHB, which I shared a little with him to encourage him. His works had point two meth. And a Valium in case you wanted to fist him, Master. He also drank some chem piss but not much. He's a virgin, well, was as of two hours ago. I have to say he takes a good fuck, opened pretty quick after about an hour. His hole was loose when I shaved him, but probably it’s tight again." Master Drax leaned forward and spoke, with a bit of a smile, conspiratorially to Chris. "Michael would make a good pimp for you, wouldn't he? You would do anything for him." Chris stared into the fireplace, not knowing what was expected of him. His right hand tightly clutched his left wrist behind his back. His unease made him dig his nails into his flesh. "Tell me: of all the enhancements Michael provided, what did you like best? You can speak. Look up at me." Chris looked up. His earlier glimpse of the man registered as a big dicked scary old man, a man with glasses, black vest and crotchless chaps. And though he had sat far back in the chair, his huge uncut cock had hung over the seat of the wingback chair. That anaconda of a cock is what registered most and still does. Now that he was able to truly take him in, his initial fear was not diminished by what he’d seen, but now possibly built on it. Bald, random liver spots covered his head. Behind wire-rim glasses, rheumy eyes darted from his skeletal sockets. The glasses hooked around large ears, where black hairs jutted around the fleshy lobes. His stubbly beard couldn't hide severely sunken, ashy cheeks, and in his open mouth there were multiple missing teeth. His tongue slithered over chapped lips, and his jaw had the junky habit of gnawing from side to side that his mother had when she itched for a fix. He breathed heavily through his nose like Manetti did right after he slammed. That nose was narrow and hooked, hung with green mucus extending as he huffed in and out. He saw Chris was mesmerized, so as he removed his vest and touched himself in a manner that a whore might use to attract a timid client. With his vest removed, he ran his hand over large white breasts that hung down to a pair of engorged nipples, each one pierced with mammoth horseshoes of heavy silver metal. He fondled them noting Chris' reaction. A silver pentagram swung on a chain and rested between his sagging breasts. Tattoos adorned his torso and arms. The first image that caught Chris’ eye was of a large dragon, identical to the one Ben had draped over his shoulder with its accompanying tail covering the old man's pronounced rib cage. Words were inked up and down his arms, all in Latin, some spiraled around his forearm, others in bands around his shriveled biceps. Chris recognized some of them stored in a backlog from catechism: Deus, mortem, cazzo, satanas. Though he didn't know what the phrases said, they couldn't have translated to anything good. Mixed in with the words were inverted crosses, a triangle of sixes on his other shoulder, horned creatures fucking, a goat with an erection, a man hanging by his foot. Most of the ink was old, faded, blended into his shriveling skin. There was one exception. A somewhat newer one etched over his hard, distended belly: the same three-pronged biohazard symbol Manetti had. Below his belly he had a vast field of grey public hair. Beneath the translucent hair, a demon's mask, the long, slender tongue extending along the top of his manhood down to the tip where it hung off with an obscene amount of hanging foreskin. Within the wrinkled foreskin, thick yellow spooge formed and crusted. Master Drax inched closer to get a better look at Chris. He was still awaiting an answer. He propped his elbows on this knees to support himself, his hands folded monk-like before him. Chris glanced at the arms. They were heavily bruised with track marks and scabbed veins; one engorged artery still had a bead of bright red blood shimmering. He saw the boy starting at it. He extended his arm. Before he could stop himself Chris licked the bead. “Very good, child,” the Master beamed. "You have proper instincts." Chris felt himself sitting inside his head, detached somehow. He thought he would have been repelled, but oddly, examining him at such close range, as at the same time he was being inspected, he was strangely drawn to the man. Before this moment, if he'd come across him on the street, he might try to avoid him, cross the street. But being scrutinized so attentively by him in this moment, kneeling naked in front of him, he still had fear, some repulsion, yes, but he couldn't deny an undercurrent of desire. The Master immediately pick up on his thoughts, for as Chris gazed down at the demonic mask etched on his pubis, it was evident that an erection was beginning to form. The serpent tongue stirred within the overflowing foreskin, a monstrous snail emerging from its shell. Chris, too, was starting to become aroused the longer he took in man's strangeness. But for him the feeling of arrested movement reminded him painfully and clearly that his dicklet was going nowhere. He summoned the courage to look pleadingly at Master Drax, but he wasn't ready for the Master’s stare that entrapped him. Like a tiny mouse might freeze all functions when looked down on by a giant cobra, Chris froze. Didn’t move, didn’t blink, barely breathed. Master Drax's presence was formidable, a fact he felt deeper than anything he'd ever sensed inside. A bit of urine dripped from his cage that too quickly turned into a stream that fell through the floorboards, echoing floor after floor below. Master Drax gave out an asthmatic, rumbling laugh, coughed up phlegm, pointed to the boy’s mouth. Chris opened it slowly. Master Drax hurled his green phlegm directly into his mouth. He then pointed to the boy’s stomach. Chris blinked, then swallow nauseously. And still the man held him in a awe. His dark eyebrows raised. There had been a question dangling, Chris at last remembered. Birds settling down on their perches. However far his control might extend, Master Drax was able to make him focus. He thought back to what the man had asked, what he'd like best, responded cautiously, "I guess I like the slam, Sir." "It’s ’Master,’ boy," instructed Master Drax without malice. With slight satisfaction of the boy’s performance thus far, he sat back in the chair. The released tension in the room was a pronouncement of having done and said the right things. Having felt he answered correctly, he sat with a bit straighter spine, and said, "Sorry, Master. I liked the slam best, definitely." He was almost confident, an emotion he rarely felt. "And only a point two slam,” he said to the boy, shaking his head theatrically. “I don't know if I'd even feel that, Michael. We'll double that in a bit, maybe five, we'll see. Your name, child?" Chris became alarmed. There followed an awkward silence, while Chris contemplated what a doubled slam, or possibly more, would do to him. He would be insane, would never survive. He was terrified at the prospect, slumped again a little. "Chris," volunteered Manetti, when it was obvious there wasn't an answer coming from the boy. "Is that short for Christopher, child?" Chris' mouth felt incredibly dry but managed to reply, "Christian, Master." "Christian," he said savoring the word on his lips. "A Christian in our house, Jamal." He looked back at his servant who nodded approvingly. "We shouldn't change that a bit, should we, Michael?" Chris had trouble looking at the Master after he proposed the double slam, one so close on the heels of his first. He worried the man saw his fear, read what he thought. To try to deflect, he darted his eyes around the room. Silhouettes against the walls outlined the shadow of a massive wooden slings, a Saint Andrews cross, a fuck bench—things he’d seen in Magnum but never imagined he’d encounter in real life—an examination table with stirrups raised high, a large wooden throne with a toilet seat cutout, and a three foot high cage with an expansive padded top. He spotted a video camera pointing out the window into an air shaft. Across the air shaft he recognized Manetti's studio. Master Drax, it was obvious, had been their audience. "So besides slamming, Christian, what else did you like to do with Michael?" Master Drax played with the foreskin of his growing erection. Pulling back the skin, its head was pierced by a horseshoe P.A. that ended in two sharp points at either ends. He uncovers it to show Chris, then lets the skin fall back covering the jewelry. His erection was already the size of Chris’ forearm, from elbow to wrist. He couldn’t imagine it getting any bigger or how anyone could take being penetrated by it. Just looking at it wide eyed, obliterating any of his thoughts. He knew once again there’s a question, but words wouldn’t form in its monstrous presence. The two sharp points rose out of the foreskin as the beast begins to stand on its own. "He takes a fuck real good," Manetti chimes in to help Chris out. "He took my..." Before Manetti embellished, Chris spat out, "Eating ass. I like to eat ass." It was as if he were back in the confessional, compelled to empty his soul. Manetti chuckled, adding, "Pretty dirty ass, too, Master. Not many guys like to get in there.” "Yes," Master Drax said in a low voice. "Look, the child’s little bird is struggling in its cage. Confession frees the soul, but will not free your cock. You tiny prick is of no interest to me. Stand and turn around." Chris did as he was ordered. "Bend over. Spread your cheeks." Master Drax let out a groan. "Boy, didn’t you ever play with your hole? Boys come to me with their hole destroyed from massive toys. Yours looks like you've never touch it. How tight is he, Michael?" "Tight as fuck, Master Drax. The booty bump helped, otherwise it would have taken hours." "You were able to get in before the slam?" Manetti nodded. "Okay, kneel, boy. You, too, pig.” Both of them got to their knees. "I don't know how much this greasy pig has told you, but I own him and your brother. Depending on what happens between us tonight, I might own you, too. Do you think that you would like that, boy?" "Yes, Sir…Master. I think so." Master Drax leaned over close. The nipple rings swung reflecting light off multiple candles, entrancing Chris, who had the compulsion to reach up and touch the man's chest. He managed, though, at least for a moment, to instead look the man in his face. But as the seconds ticked by his desires won out, and his gaze fell to the temptation of the distended nipples. "You must always fall into temptation.” The boy looked up with a start. Master Drax went on, “Yes, your thoughts are easy for me to read. Your face is an open book. I will rewrite you. You like these tits? Go ahead, touch them." Chris tentatively reached up with both hands and squeezed the engorged nubs. "Would you like yours to look like these?" Chris found himself nodding. "It'll take work. We’ll start you with small nipple rings later tonight. But you’ll have to earn them. This pig here can tell you, I like grinding boys down with their darkest perversions. I like my boys hard, like I like their holes sloppy. Sit," he said to Manetti, punching him in his breast bone hard enough to make him fall backwards. "I require their holes be loose, extremely loose. Show Christian your pig hole, pig." Manetti lifted his legs, his hairy balls falling over his sizable cock, and spreads his ass cheeks for the boy to view. As he bore down he pulled his asslips apart. Soon Manetti's red rectum started exposing itself. "Push hard." Master Drax didn’t raise his voice, but his tone grew menacing: "Harder." The red rosebud pushed opened even further, protruding just outside the ring of his sphincter. Around the edges Manetti's asslips were lumps of dark red and purple ridges. Chris' bound erection was getting very extremely uncomfortable. At first a pearl of pre-cum appeared on the piss slit, Master Drax observed, but as the boy watched Manetti strain to flair out more of his rectum, puffing out into a full prolapse, more pearls appeared. Finally pre-cum began to drool from the boy's cage to wooden floor. Master Drax watched delighted. "Go on, touch it. We'll get yours like this too, eventually. Being so young, your ring will be smooth. It will be a glorious sight to behold, won't it Jamal?" "Indeed, Master," Jamal responded, running his tongue over his teeth. Chris reached over and felt the flesh. Soft, incredibly soft. He'd never felt anything so soft. As he fingered it, Manetti let out an unconscious wail. "You want to taste it, don’t you? Go ahead. Kiss it. Kiss the inside of a man’s rectum." Chris couldn't believe he wanted to kiss it. He kissed it, and after looking at Master Drax who nodded at him, he licked it and pressed his mouth against the prolapse. He went farther, licking around each red pedals, sucking each fold splayed out before him. He pinched the ring of flesh, which made Manetti flinch, and without quite knowing why pinched it harder. Manetti cried out but had been trained not to resist. Chris searched for the center as he pulled the man’s hole further apart with his fingers. He stuck a finger inside and licked around the hole before sticking his tongue deep down inside the cavern. Manetti moaned ecstatically. Chris felt like he was coming into heat again for Manetti, but their roles felt reverse. He began chewing on the prolapse, and as he did his body temperature rose and a fine sheen of sweat glazed his body, a trickle of sweat ran down his ribs. Master Drax looked enormously pleased with the boy. "Both of you, sit," commanded the Master. He sniffed the air. "Boy, is that you I smell? B.O. and piss?" "Yes, Sir," Chris said proudly, sitting straight. "Sir pissed all over me before we came. I drank his piss too. Some went in my butt." "The boy has been homeless for the last month and hasn't showered,” Manetti explained. He gave Chris a quick look of concern. He grew aware something was changing in Chris, that he was more enthusiastic than fearful. "Excellent," Master Drax said reflexively. "Christian, do you know what limitations are?" Chris nodded. "What limitations do you think you have?" Manetti protectively broke in quickly, "He doesn’t do scat or bestiality or..." Master Drax interrupted softly, slowly, but emphatically, "Did I question you what Christian’s limitations are? Whom did I asked, Michael?" Manetti knew he'd have to pay for his outburst. "You asked Christian, Master,” Manetti said, lowering his head. Chris' felt that he, at least, is in Master's good graces and wants to please him more. "No limits, Master Drax." He'd read that in one of Ben's nastier bondage magazines. Realizing he doesn't exactly know what that means, he added tentatively, "At least that's what I'd like to be." Chris saw this made Master Drax reveal his jagged smile. Jamal nodded to Chris. A split tongue like a lizard swept across Master Drax's lips as he contemplated how to start with this near-virgin boy. "Come here. Play with my nipples, child. Nothing gets me more stimulated quicker." He was in heaven. He reached up and felt the Master's chest. Sparse grey fur swirled around his nipples. The boy's hands glided over his drooping pecs. He then dared to slip a hand into the man’s hairy arm pits. He was energized, doing things unprompted he'd never thought to do. With his other hand he was pulling on his cage. There was something in the Master's gaze that egged on his libido. Almost guided him. He felt the wet body odor emanating from Master Drax's pits. He brought his fingers out and sniffed them, then put them in his mouth. "You have a real pig's tendencies, don't you boy? Manifest much earlier than your brother." He looked down at the boy's cage. "Those tendencies will be quite beneficial and financially rewarding for us both. I cater to a specialized clientele, or has Michael told you this? Some with, uh, exotic tastes. Let's free you for tonight and see where your tendencies might lead. Pig," he said to Manetti. "Get up and take his cage off and put it on you. You don't deserve an erection tonight.” Manetti rose and got the key on the table next to Master’s chair. “You don’t deserve this either, but I’ll permit you hold Christian while I rape him.” Manetti released the lock on Chris cage and his small penis started to quickly fill out. Though his own was still flaccid, he struggled to get the cage to capture his ample meat. Jamal added assistance, pinching and prodding until his balls fit inside. They struggled with metal cap to get it locked over the shaft. “Jamal,” Master Drax said to his servant. "Leave him. He'll attend to himself. Please be so kind as to prepare cocktails for these two." "Very good, Master Drax," he replied, leaving Manetti to struggle getting his pecker in the stocks. “And one for Master?” "Of course. Yes. Make them extra hearty, Jamal. Take it from the Czech inventory, not the Mexican. And mix in a bit of Ketamine with the boy’s dose. His hole will never accommodate otherwise." The Master picked up Chris leash and pointed Manetti to the large wooden sling. "In, pig. I want you to hold him as he struggles. He is too bound to you at this point. You will be an accomplice in his rape." Manetti marched over to the sling, climbed in and put his legs through the straps. Master Drax came up behind Chris, knelt behind him, nudging his legs apart. He began fondled him intensely. His hands ran over the thin chest pulling him into himself. His enormous erect blade sliced up and down Chris’ crack, inched up the small of his back till it rested between his shoulder blades, illustrating how deep he would be penetrated. The wet foreskin left a small trace of slime as it climbed each vertebrae. The man felt all the indentations along the boy’s rib cage, pinched the small nipples, grabbed the boy’s erect dick and gave it a slap. His hand dove under his crotch weighing his dangling balls with one hand and feeling his tight, wet hole with the other. It slowly dawned on Chris, far from molesting him for his own pleasure, Master Drax was more interested in assessing him as you would an animal you were about to purchase. Sure enough, the man turned the boy around, pulled down his eyelids, then pushed up his lips sticking a finger in his mouth to open his teeth. After examining inside his mouth, he slid in a second finger, then a third, finally all four and pushed them down Chris’ throat until the boy gagged and doubled over. “No. You will not gag. Open.” Four fingers again went into his mouth as far back as Master Drax’s fingers would reach. He wanted to retch but fought against it. He'd never felt anyone assess him over so thoroughly or felt so dehumanized. The glasses enlarged Master Drax's watery eyes and continued to drill into him, wordlessly inserting himself into him. He felt the man inside his head, rooting around, rummaging inside him for something; changing something here, reordering something there. Master Drax withdrew his slime-covered fingers and wearily got up. He plucked Chris’ dangling leash from the ground and gave a small tug on the chain. As Master Drax led him toward the sling, he said, "Point two, you said? A child’s portion. Are you ready for your first man-size slam? It'll open up worlds you've never imagined. Worlds that will swallow you whole. Where you'll be mine ever after. Are you willing to succumb completely to me so I can show you those worlds?" Chris was extremely agitated, but he knew better than to contradict Master Drax, much less deny him what he knew he wanted. Instead he searched for a way to temper his fear and possibly backpedal a bit. "I'm pretty high now, Sir," Chris said uncertainly. "The first slam fucked me up good. I was saying things when I was rushing, I don't know if I really wanted to do all those things. Not really." Master Drax stopped short, looked at him with tired disappointment. "My fuckhole never says 'no'." Master Drax wasn't angry but he closely examined Chris’ face. "You want me to give you your first man-size slam? I'll ask it again, this one time only." Chris looked over at Manetti for some assurance. “Don’t look at him. Look at me.” "Yes, Sir." Chris whispered. Then seeing Master Drax was still holding him in his gaze, he added firmly, "Please, yes Master Drax, slam me however much you want." "And I will.” He finished leading his boy by the leash over to the heavy wooden sling. He unclipped the collar and let it drop noisily to the ground. “Climb up on pig. That’s correct, lie with your back on his belly. I want you to feel it while you observe it." Chris awkwardly climbed up on Manetti, with Manetti giving him a little hand to secure himself in the sling. Manetti's large, broad chest easily cradled Chris on top of him. He felt Manetti’s warm fur on his back, his hairy belly tickling his tailbone. He felt him breathing slowly beneath him. Manetti starting caressing him to get him to relax. Chris melted into him with every stroke of his large hand. He, in turn, began stroking Manetti's sides for comfort. While Master Drax was taking off his chaps folding them on a table, Chris whispered to Manetti, “I didn’t mean to hurt you when I was playing with your hole.” His head tilted so he could see Manetti’s reflection in the mirror hanging above him. “I feel your heart pounding away,” Manetti said to Chris in the reflection. “You can do this, Chief. Remember how it hurt at first but then it got better and you came to like it? Am I right or am I right?” Chris nodded with a bit of an embarrassed smile. “The K is going to help relax your hole. This will be more intense but it’s the same. I promise. I'll be here the whole time.” Jamal came back with three prepared needles and a rubber tube on a tarnished silver tray as. Master Drax followed him over and wanted to know how much Jamal had allotted. Jamal held up four fingers. Chris held tightly to Manetti's side and took a deep breath. Master Drax attended to Manetti first. Chris watched in the mirror as the needle emptied into him. Manetti coughed and he realized the man was burning up, from his chest down to his groin. He felt a wet sheen of sweat instantly coat his back. His breathing was insanely rapid. But what suddenly frightened Chris was Manetti saying, barely audible, "I can take it. I'm okay. I can take it." Over and over. If doing .4 was hard on Manetti, how was he going to bear it? Master Drax said to Jamal who stood passively staring straight ahead, "I'll do myself, you do the boy." "Very good, Master," replied Jamal, breaking into a small grin. He indicated the closest syringe on the tray was for Master. He then set the tray down on a side table. Chris looked up into Jamal’s jaundiced eyes. He saw desire smoldering in them, something he would not act on unless invited. His sumptuous black skin glowed in the candlelight. There was sweat along his strong brow. He wondered if the man had tasted any of portions he had prepared. Jamal smiled at him displaying a mouth missing all its teeth. Blackened gums were now all he had in his open maw. Jamal took up the rubber tube and placed it around Chris' bicep. He felt his forearm and decided on a pronounced vein. Removing the orange cap of the last syringe, he held it at an angle to the vein. Chris noticed that the vial wasn't clear but cloudy with a touch of pink. Jamal peered directly into Chris's eyes, saying softly with his island lilt, "I make this special, an extra gift from me to you." He retracted the plunger enough to cause it to spill Chris' blood into the pink liquid, then pushed the swirling content into his vein. "I also up you to five." The servant pulled out the syringe, released the tourniquet, and held Chris’ arm up in the air. As Chris bucked within Manetti's strong grip, the servant turned Chris' arm out to licked the bead of blood where the needle had just been.