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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.

Did he really just say what I thought he said….”Oh fuck that’s good”….he…er…he said he knew my son…”Fuck me harder”…..he knew the kid in the photo next to my bed….”AHHH FUCCKK YEAH HARDER..”…he’d fucked him a few weeks ago…”Oh god, go deeper”…he’d fucked my son…HE’D FUCKED MY SON!! “Wait, wait” I said pushing him up..he was fucking hot and was doing a great job of stretching my cunt…”You fucked him” I said pointing to the picture. He stopped, ripped, sweaty and panting, pushing up and looked at the photograph, “Yeah, hot kid, fucked him and some other lad.” He suddenly looked at me as puzzled as I was, “He a friend?” He asked as I leaned up to grab the photo. “He’s my son” I replied. The hot stud who’d been ploughing me missionary, suddenly grinned at me. “Sweet, I’ve fucked the Father and Son” I have to admit it sounded hot too, “Did he know you were poz?” I asked with a sudden sinking feeling. “Yeah, first thing they asked. Wanted to know if I was toxic, they wanted breeding” He grinned back, “Concerned for your son?” he said gently thrusting back into me. I breathed in as he entered me, “A little, but I think he’s on Prep.” I said suddenly full of mixed emotions for the well being of my only son and the thought of this hot stud breeding him. “Well they said they weren’t and wanted pozzing. They begged me for my poison load” He smirked and began to fuck me hard again. The thought of fucking the father and the son had clearly excited him. If truth be told, it did me too. We fucked hard for another hour before he finally shot his poz load down my throat. He ate mine and we kissed for a while longer. “I’m undetectable anyway, so no chanced of infecting your boy” He smirked as I led him to the door of my apartment. It was 3am and this Grindr fuck stud had been just what I needed. Hung, muscular and total top who just happened to be HIV+. “I never asked what status you were?” He said as I stood naked with my front door wide open. “I’m HIV+ too and high viral load at the moment” I grinned. The stud smiled back, “Sweet” as I closed the door on him. I had a lot to absorb besides the Grindr studs cum in my stomach. My teenage son was chasing. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. It would be hard to criticize him since I’d been incredibly promiscuous all my life and finally succumbed to the bug when I was 32 after riding any toxic cock I could find. Now at the ripe old age of 38, I was toned, with a shaved head and short, trimmed beard. I still had a six pack, defined arms and muscular pecs with pert little nipples. I also kept my upper body smooth showing off my hairless balls and 8.5” uncut cock. I was an above average DILF and Grindr was my haunt. Unsuspecting and naïve slutty bottoms my prey. Speaking of which, my phone let out a Grindr growl. I walked back into my living room and grabbed the phone. It was a notification from the stud who’d just left. 'Forgot. I met your son and his bf on Twitter. They have a JustForFans account. You may want to check it out', he wrote. I clicked the link and sure enough my naked son Ben and his other half, Jeremy popped up. Both were grinning with cum covered faces. For the rest of the night I sat naked on the couch watching my beautiful boy being used by so many different men. I’d been so proud of him as he grew to manhood. I’d fathered him when I was 20, during my bisexual phase. I’d been so happy when he came out as gay at the age of 14, although he was overtly effeminate so it wasn’t exactly a shock. Nor was finding him sucking the dick of an older brother of one of his school friends in his bedroom one Christmas I’d come to visit. Now he was grown, with short dark hair and a beautifully proportioned tight body. Defined six pack, pert little nipples, smooth, unblemished skin. A fabulous ass and his fathers big dick, which like mine, remained hard and leaked copious amounts of precum all the time he was being fucked. I hadn’t actually seen him top once, so he was obviously a bottom who loved being stretched wide, either by one or two cocks, or a fist. There were plenty of clips of him taking massive dildos and some monster manhood's too. His boyfriend Jeremy was also a stunning boy. 19 years of age and was at the same dance school as Ben. He was a few inches taller and skinnier, but his fat dick was inside Ben as often as he could be, it would seem. I’d met him a few times and liked him because he made my boy happy. Now I could see why and their depraved love life was equal to my own. The two of them were utter sluts. Watching my boy felch cum out of his bf’s freshly seeded cunt and then share it with him. He was equally adept with being pissed on and drank much of what he was given. Perhaps his best videos were of older men using him in every position. Clearly like me, Ben loved older guys and would whimper and moan as he was abused. He loved being tied up and slapped around. Verbal and physical humiliation made him very happy with his erect cock bouncing up and down in every scene. It was strange, but I realised I’d been wanking my fat dick for ages as I watched my boy being fucked by countless men. Knowing that he was chasing was also making me horny as fuck.

So, this is going to take some explaining. I have a FWB, closer to boyfriend, but neither of us is great with labels. He works as an installer for home theater systems, installing these immense actual theaters in client’s homes. Not always an actual theater, but more often than not, yeah, full fledge theaters. What I am trying to say is that my Friend works for some pretty rich people. He has also been whoring me out to some of these clients since we got together. It’s a fetish he and I both have. But that bit is a different story. So one of my Friend’s clients contacts him and tells him that he is gonna have a stay-cation for a couple of weeks and that he was wondering if he could provide some entertainment. Meaning he wanted my Friend to whore me out to him for his two-week vacation. But this time it would be no clothes, full bondage, my hole would be open season for whomever was in the house. And I had to be okay with that. Little different then us meeting up and him fucking me for a few hours, having a beer, and then me going home. And while it was a hot idea, I wasn’t really sold because two-weeks is a long time and that kind of sex means I get to eat jell-o and drink water so my hole stays as ready as possible. But my Friend knows how to convince me to say yes and after fucking me to the tune of four cum loads in my hole he got me to agree. SO the day that he is suppose to take me over there comes but we are waiting for a text from the client. By the time it comes its super late and it had a fun instruction for the drop off. The client wanted me to be naked and hooded in the trunk of my Friend’s car. Hot, but again no go for me cause weird. I have been fucked by this particular guy before, but this was some new territory for us. And I was a little nervous. Again my friend got my clothes off and fucked me, but then wouldn’t let me cum. I make bad decisions when I’m horny and recently fucked without release. Which meant on went the hood, off all my clothes, and me in the trunk of a car. I was never so thankful for a garage as I was in that moment. So we went on a drive to the client’s house, which was still not the weirdest way I have ever been transported naked. We arrived and after being let in to the gate the car was parked and I was let out of the trunk and led to the house naked. I could hear people around, more than just the client and my boyfriend. After we were in the house the hood still was taken off and I was led to an area where my hands were cuffed and secured above my head to something that was hanging from the ceiling. I waited then for the hood to come off, but it didn’t. Instead I heard the client that I had been whored out to announce that some more entertainment had arrived and to “enjoy.” For a minute nothing happened and then I started to feel hands. A lot of hands. Everywhere. Now I know I had agreed to this. It was my fetish, but I couldn’t see anything. I didn’t know where my Friend was. I didn’t know anything so I was obviously nervous. And that made some of them even more interested. Maybe a little more forceful. What started out a simple groping turned quickly into pinching, pulling, and greased up fingers stretching my hole. They weren’t quick about prepping me. They took their time. Multiple hands spending time finger fucking me until my nervous squirming turned into writhing like a slut. I may have been nervous but this was still getting me hot. Once my hole was loosened up I felt the first cock slide in me. I was fucked by the first cock for what seemed like forever but was probably more like ten minutes before he left my hole empty and a little gaped. And thus began a parade of cocks that fucked me and filled me. Every now and then one of them would cum in me and when they slid out of me they cum would leak out of my hole and down my leg until the next cock came and used the cum as lube to fuck me some more. Mind you the hood still had not been taken off. In the end if everyone that came in me wasn’t a repeat I took twenty different loads in my hole. By this time my arms were sore and my legs were starting to give out. And that’s when I felt myself being let down and led up some stairs. I was put in a room and the door closed behind me and finally the hood was taken off. It was the client. I asked where my Friend was and he told me that he had left an hour ago. He then petted my head and asked how I was doing. I told him I was a little tired and he made a sympathetic face at me. He then asked if I was going to hold up my end of the deal, he said this while playing with my cock. I was still hard. I hadn’t cum yet. So of course I said yes, because good decisions. He told me he was happy and that I could relax in the room, but he needed to get me in position first. That’s when he led me over to a fuck bench and laid me down on it, strapping my legs and arms down. He told me to go ahead and get some rest, but not to be surprised if one of his guests came in to use my hole some more. With that he left and I was strapped to a fuck bench hard as a rock, but nothing going on. I must have fallen asleep, but was woken up to a massive cock thrusting into me all at once and another cock being shoved in my mouth. And so continued my first night as rented out sex toy.

A perspective into a dynamic that I also relate to, understand, and fully appreciate.

how long a man takes to cum is a variable,as is the circumstance.Like guys who cum quick and bail,but other times a man really gets me openned up and those are special.:)

Faggotuser’s post here is a good example of a type of comment from certain Tops that leaves me troubled. As it describes me, his distinction between bottoms and cumdumps is spot-on. Had I any doubt in my mind whether I was actually a cumdump, his definition resolves it. I am. The part that’s troubling is where is says, “Most cumdumps eventually accept what they are and are happier knowing they are nameless whores for men to dump loads into.” I can only speak for myself, but... he’s right about me. I’m much, much happier like this. What’s troubling about it is that I may be a human Fleshlight, but that’s not all that I am. When I’m a sexual utility - which in theory could be at any moment of any day - I’m the nameless thing Faggotuser describes. When I’m not, I hold multiple degrees, fathered children (now grown) and had a career in public service for 30 years. The two identities within me are not in conflict. But I fear that many Tops, like Faggotuser, see only the utility and dismiss the rest. Why would I care? Because Faggotuser is among the kinds of Tops I love serving the most, even if (and perhaps because?) I know I’m an object to him and he’s going to take his pleasure in as self-focused a way as possible, and not hold back. Those are the kinds of Tops that usually enjoy a longer fuck, in my experience, except when they’re in a hurry to do something. The only thing that leaves me wondering is whether Tops like Faggotuser actually believe what they say about cumdumps like, whether they actually live it, or whether it’s just a fun persona to wear in places like BZ. I know which one I’d like to believe...

I concur, on both counts.

If you want a gay bareback haven in Asia, visit Bangkok. I never get tired of going back.

I've had it happen to me only a couple of times, and only because me & one of my fuck buddies sleep with him on top of me with me on my stomach (I enjoy having weight pressing down on me when I sleep, and he likes the warmth and cushion of my body), it also helps that he has a pretty big dick too. But it's only happened maybe 3 times, and only stayed comfortable because we use silicon lube.

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.

Cut, uncut, who cares if it is deep in my hole or throat? 😉

All very hot as well

this story keeps getting better...

Intent. That is the relevant word here. These absurd false moral equivalencies some of you are holding up hare, where the idea that someone will ‘probably’ end up infected anyway actually justifies intentional stealthing, or absolves the perpetrator after the fact, are irrational. The enduring customs, traditions, rules, laws and taboos that regulate human societies at the base level can pretty much all be distilled down to necessary actions to ensure the survival of the species and individuals within it. While we might question whether it is “moral” or “ethical” or “good” or “right” for an infected person to stealth another, the actual underlying question is, is it consistent with the survival of the species and the individuals that comprise it for diseased individuals to intentionally make others diseased? The answer, by every possible measure, is NO. Some argue that bottoms who leave themselves more vulnerable to infection “deserve” to be infected, are “asking” to be infected, or are In some way destined to be accidentally infected, so in each case a stealther feels that any normal constraint should not apply. But the bottom, regardless of his carelessness, naïveté, or trusting or promiscuous nature, in this scenario is an undiseased member of the population. Remember the base question? Is it consistent with the survival of the species and the individuals that comprise it for diseased individuals to intentionally make others diseased? The answer, again, is NO. No, just because he’s a cumdump doesn’t make him fair game. No, the fact that you’re in a bathhouse doesn’t give you a special privilege to hurt people so you can have your fun. NO. Even if, in some inexplicable way, it could be logical to argue that as long as someone has become infected it doesn’t matter how they got that way (?) (!??) the matters of disease, morbidity and mortality are too grave for the society to accept the idea without challenge. The question must be asked: Could the transmission of the disease have been prevented? In the case of the stealther, who has positive knowledge of his condition, the answer is Yes. Yet we know that by base principal the answer to whether one diseased person may knowingly infect another is NO. So if the action that caused the forbidden infection could have been prevented, why wasn’t it? Here we come to Intent. In this situation, something has gone wrong with the social order necessary for species an individual survival. It must therefore be considered a threat and a present danger. The society must respond in such a way as to eliminate the threat. Earlier cultures might have gathered all the individuals with disease an either culled them outright or segregated them in colonies. With the advent of modern medicine, the onus of upholding the bedrock societal imperative falls upon the legal system. And so we see that in many jurisdictions, knowingly and surreptitiously infecting another person with a disease through sexual contact is considered a form of sexual assault. That is to say, stealthing is a criminal act. But what separates an accidental infection from a willful one? What makes one an accident and the other a crime? It is the Intent of the stealther. Regardless of whether a bottom might or might not eventually end up infected, it can be absolutely said that that bottom would not get infected by that stealther except that the stealther made a positive decision to cause it. Any argument that places the responsibility on the bottom for not preventing the transmission from happening fails on causality because had the stealther had not acted on his intent, there would have been nothing for the bottom to prevent. No, there is no defense for stealthing. No, it is not a matter of personal opinion or lifestyle. No, it is not a question of religious dogma. No, just because you person don’t see a problem with it does not make it okay for you to do it. No, the fact that somebody did it to you (sorry) does not give you any right of retaliation. No, just because you’re in a bathhouse make it suddenly acceptable when it isn’t anywhere else. Is it consistent with the survival of the species and the individuals in it for one diseased person to knowingly infect another? NO. It’s fucking wrong, and you know it.

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 ☺️

Don't feel bad @drscorpio. I gave in as well. Although in my case it was with a buddy who has been in the same situation as me. We both have been staying at home for weeks and only go out for grocery shopping. He's an honest guy so I believe him when he says that. He's also a very sexy guy. A lot younger than me. Big meaty cock and multicummer. Vers top. Before the corona thing we had a sex date once every week. We have been texting for weeks and last night I was too horny and gave in to his hints to get together. It was fucking hot. His mojo is to shoot a first load within minutes and then continue to fuck for a second. Took him a while to get to his second load and I blasted my load all over my bed. We took a long break and chatted about the situation we're going through. Only needed to suck a short while before he was hard again and he went for it again. Felt like he was pumping my hole forever. Had one of the most powerful orgasms I can remember before he dumped his third. We were both pretty exhausted after that. I did feel a bit guilty afterwards but damn I needed that! We will probably see more of each other after this, social distancing or not. But he will be the only one I'm meeting with.

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.

Dillon got back to his apartment and even though he kept telling himself that he was not going to act on any of this, he really wanted them all to want him. Once he got back he checked the first email his regular one and he had five more responses from old men. He deleted them, then he checked his new email and there were two responses. First one - Married guy coming into town with his hotel and times he would be available once he arrived. (Dillon's rock hard but did not respond right away) Second response - Glory hole guy, he gave Dillon an address and a picture of the building where the Glory Hole was located and a time. 4 PM for Dillon to arrive and told him to go into the last stall and tap his foot three times. He also said he would be wearing red converse high tops. So Dillon knew he was tapping the right guy. I will tap back and once I do pull up on the toilet paper dispenser and it will come off the wall and you will see a hole. Stick your finger up and rub it on the base of the hole and I will slowly feed my cock through. I will need to cum twice, so after you swallow my first load keep sucking. I will need a confirmation by 2 PM to make it there by 4 PM. (Dillon looked at his watch and it was 1:45 ) Dillon typed his response and waited but after five minutes he said fuck it and sent it off. He justified, it was anonymous and he could still blow the guy off and change his mind all the way till 3:45 since he was just 15 minutes from the location. His response read: Dillon - Dude, I will be there. I am wearing black kicks and so ready to suck your big dick and swallow your loads. Anonymous guy - Good, be there at 4 PM exactly. Not any earlier, my dick is dripping thinking of your work mouth on my prick. When you arrive come to the side of the building and use the second door. Ignore the signs that say no trespassing. Dillon could not stop touching his dick and had to watch several clips of Glory Hole action and he was really getting turned on. He took a break and responded to the straight guy coming into town. Dillon - Definitely want to service your big dick. love your foreskin and bush. Totally ready to drain you. Your hotel is 10 minutes from my apartment so I can get to you easily, so early morning before work, after work and lunch are the best. Otherwise we can play it by ear and hit me up and see if I can break free from my girl to drain you! Dillon grabbed one of the dildos his girl used often and began to suck it and he gagged some, although he continued and stopped gagging. He grabbed the bigger one he bought her that she never uses and tried it and gagged, He kept working it in his mouth and throat and after ten minutes he was sucking that big fat dildo without gagging. He looked at the clock and it was 3:30. Right then his Girl text him and said she had to work late again and would not be home till seven and he text her back and said no problem babe. I will grab take out tonight. Love you! Now Dillon was feeling entirely guilty and he went to shut his computer down and he thought about the straight guy saying having a guy suck your dick is not cheating. If that is true sucking a dick can't be either. He knew deep down that was bull shit but he really wanted to believe it as he started sucking on that huge dildo again. After a couple minutes he put them back in the drawer and left to go to the old building side entrance bathroom. He arrive at the parking lot at 3:55 and waited till 3:59 and walked to the door and looked and his watch said 4 PM and he entered and he went to the end stall as directed. It was clean in there and he played with the toilet paper dispense to make sure it came off as he was told and to his surprise it just lifted up. He put it back and then heard the door. He nervously sat on the toilet and waited as the stall next him opened and he saw two red converse high tops walk into the stall and tap his foot three times. (he did not even sit down) Dillon tapped his foot three times and then removed the toilet paper dispenser and he could immediately see the long uncut dick being fed through the hole. The guy had lots of skin and precum was leading out of it. Dillon began to suck on the skin and nibble on it and slide his tongue and dock his tongue and lick the guys head. Tasting that precum, Dillown was in heaven. The guy pulled back his skin a little and the rest of the precum poured into Dillon's mouth and he back to suck and swallow more and more of that beautiful uncut dick. Ten minutes in the guy shot his load in Dillon's mouth and all Dillon heard was swallow, Dillon pulled off and swallowed and the guy left his dick right there and Dillon went back to working the head and sucking his dick and it took another fifteen minutes and he shot his second load. The guy pulled his dick out slowly as Dillon swallowed the second load. He loved hot it tasted and wondered if it was just this guy or is that what guys taste like. The guy said, stay right there don't fucking move until I have done for two minutes. Dillon said okay. the guy undid the stall and headed out. Dillon stayed as instructed. Before Dillon could get up the door opened and Dillon jumped up and sat on the stall and before he could cover the hole a guy was standing in the stall. He was wearing work boots. He tapped his foot three times and Dillon did the same out of instinct. The guy unzipped his jeans and slide a fat 8" dick through the hole. It was cut, big fat head and lots of veins. Dillon got back down on his knees and licked the head and took the entire head in his mouth and sucked and he hard the guy moan a little and push his dick further through. Soon Dillon was sucking the guy deep and after 8-10 minutes of heaving sucking and licking the guy blew in Dillon's mouth. All the guy said was "Thanks, be here tomorrow at the same time." The guy left and Dillon had no idea what he looked like or anything about him but that he loves his big dick and his cum tasted even better then the first dude. Dillon put the toilet rack back on the wall and left quickly. It was almost 5 PM and he headed back to the apartment and he kept tasting the men he swallowed. All he could think about is sucking more dick. When he arrived back he had a response from Anonymous, great cock sucker. Be there tomorrow at the same time, I am off again tomorrow and definitely need to unload in that cum dump mouth of yours. Dillon loved told he had a cum dump mouth and hated it at the same time. He wondered why others did not hit him up that he sent an email to and thought I really need to hit up that bbc guy. Wonder if his cum taste different?

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’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.

Thanks @Fistcumslut but you can always hit me up anytime. So how does this sound?

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

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.

Reminded me of Manetti

4. 249 Station Street, Flushing, Queens Every breath you take Every move you make Every bond you break, every step you take I’ll be watching you After the massive amount of chem piss Manetti shot into him, there wasn't much more of the night he remembered. He didn't think there was any more filming. Although he was excited thinking he was a star in his first porn video, the actual act of getting fisted and spunked by Manetti was the thing he relished as he woke up. Somehow he'd gotten back to Manetti's apartment. He awoke naked but collarless, a little spaced out about the rest of the evening's events. He rested for a long time on Manetti's futon. A sheet was covering him, but it looked like he had kicked off a blanket. It was already hot in the apartment and it seemed only to be early morning. The VCR clock said seven-oh-three. He felt his butt and found it very wet and greasy. His head felt like shit and he was pretty disoriented, but got up and went to the bathroom. Sitting there, he tried to gather his thoughts. He's pretty sure he got put on a fuckbench and had been ridden by Master Drax and Jamal. His memory was fuzzy. Manetti had opened him up sufficiently for Master Drax to ram his mammoth cock into him, but funny enough he couldn't really remember it. He remembered that Jamal went at him for a long time. He was rough at first but he'd put up little resistance and they soon fell into a hypnotic rhythm that lasted for hours, literally, till the first light of day came into the air shaft. He seemed to remember Jamal pissed in him too. They were like dogs marking their territory, he thought. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, but after that things got sketchy. He thought his memory of Master Drax would come back to him, but right now, sitting on the toilet, he couldn't recall anything after Jamal’s pissing. It hurt, that's as much as he could remember of Master Drax. That, and he distinctly remembered Manetti wasn't there. He released a huge volume of piss from his ass, then followed that up with a slew of shit, grease and blood. When he wiped he was alarmed by the multi-colored streaks: red, brown, yellow, pink. But he knew what he'd been in for, so why actually be surprised? His hole felt it was at least twice the size it had been. Actually it felt amazing. He squeeze a couple of times and realized he couldn't completely squeeze it shut. Overall, the lingering thoughts he had from last night was that it was an adventure he was glad he had, especially what he and Manetti shared, but goddamn did he feel like crap now. He staggered out of the bedroom, saw the back of Manetti's head in the kitchen tub, and crawled back in bed. "Hey, Mike," he managed to eke out, talking into his pillow. "Are you coming to bed?" But he was back asleep before he heard any answer. *** The front door erupted with a tremendous pounding. Chris opened one eye and determined, by airshaft light, it was late afternoon. He looked at the VCR: four-ten. The banging began again. "Mike?" he said. "You there?" The third thumping this time was the loudest, longest, and most determined. He pushed himself up and trotted to the front door. He cracked it opened as far as the chain lock would allow to discover two police officers standing there. "Your neighbor called in a complaint about water leaking from your apartment," the older of the two officer said. He was a big, red-headed guy with a flushed face and greying temples. The other officer in back of him had buzz cut and cold green eyes. “He thought the water looked bloody," the officer added. He peered over Chris head and looked alarmed. “What the hell is that?" He pointed his night stick at something behind Chris’ head. Chris turned around and was dumbstruck. Manetti was naked in the bathtub, wrist slashed, lying in a pool of bloody water. "You need to let us in, young man. Unlatch the door," the officer instructed. The buzz cut officer got on his walkie-talkie and called the incident in. They waited as Chris slipped off the security chain. When he opened the door the younger officer said wryly, "You might want to put on some clothes." It took Chris only a second to realize he was standing in front of them naked. His wasn't thinking, obviously. How could he think? He was just now only fully waking up to the horror of the scene. He looked at Manetti, colorless, his eyelids closed. He focused past him and he saw his clothes hanging on the window grate, now dry. He walked woozily over to the window through a puddle of blood-drenched water. No underwear on the grate, he couldn't remember where that was, so he just slipped on his jeans and his t-shirt. He turned around. The two officers had come into the kitchen and the younger one, the buzz cut guy, put two fingers to Manetti’s neck. He shook his head at the other officer. The red-headed officer introduced himself as Officer Bailey. Chris heard words but they were muffled. Mostly he heard he heard his own blood pulsing through his head. He tried to anchor himself by looking intently at what was in front of him. A police officer in his late forties who looked like a little league coach or Scout Master. Open face, a little flabby maybe, but still solid for his age. There was a bit of tomato sauce on his chin. He wondered what the tomato sauce was from. Officer Bailey nodded at the other officer, said his name was Officer Polanski, then he quizzed him, "Mind telling us your name, son, and who this is and what happened?" His question was nothing more than dampened words under a blanket. Officer Bailey saw the blank look on Chris’ face so he slowly repeated the question: "Your name, son, his name, what happened?" It took Chris a second to shake the cobwebs out of his head before he could pull any kind of answer together. "I don't know. My name’s Chris Prior.” He looked back horrified at Manetti. “I just came in from Los Angeles. Last night. This is Mike, Mike Manetti." He stopped in his tracks after saying Manetti's name. He couldn't continue. Didn’t allow himself to think beyond the officer’s question. "You saying you just now seeing this?" Polanski, the second officer, asked skeptically standing by Manetti’s body. Chris put his hands on his forehead trying to process the scene, then said, a half-step behind each word he spoke, "Yeah, I woke up when you knocked.” It was almost as if he was testing the ground with each word to see if they still held up to reality: "I just flew in from LAX last night. I came here to find my brother. This is his boyfriend, roommate. Was his…" He trailed off. Bailey went in the other room to search the apartment putting on latex gloves. Chris heard him responding to his walkie-talkie. Officer Polanski looked around the room. "You here alone 'cept for him?" Chris nodded. "He leave a note?" "I don't know. You know as much as I know. Is there?" They both scanned the room from where they stood. Chris' eyes kept coming back to Manetti. He had no idea what to do, had no clue why this was happening. The wall phone suddenly began ringing loudly making him jump. Chris looked at it as if it was an alien object. He picked it up. “Hello?” he said in a daze. Master Drax spoke to him in a quiet voice, "Are the police with you?" "Yes," Chris said, staring at the ground. "Do whatever they say. Cooperate with them fully. Now say, 'I haven't seen him today.'" Chris repeated, "I haven't seen him today." He gave a sideways glance out the window and saw an outline of a dark figure on the other side of the air shaft. "Don't say anything to anyone. Just keep saying you don’t know anything.” Chris got out tentatively, “O-kay.” “I'll be in touch again." There was a click, then a loud dial tone. Polanski said, "Who was that?" "I think his boss. Wanted to know why he wasn't in." "Why'd you say you hadn't seen him?" Polanski pressed. There was something dark yet familiar about this officer. Chris didn't have many run-ins with cops in Long Beach but Ben had. The area of Long Beach he grew up in was called Dogpatch. It was close to the refineries and the sprawling Los Angeles harbor. It was also an area where convicts were released. The Burger King close to his house was off limits to him growing up. It was a place crawling with ex-cons and their wives and girlfriends, to cops and fights and arrests. Polanski reminded him of the kind of cop that used to harass Ben. Ben had been busted for being underage at a local gay bar when he was sixteen. He was on the cops' radar ever since. Bailey came back in to the kitchen holding Manetti's box of drugs. He had it open, displaying the contents to Chris. He asked if Chris knew anything about it. He said he didn't. He'd just met the guy last night. He just let him crash here but that was all. Polanski scrutinized him. "What are you, kid, fourteen, fifteen…thirteen?" Bailey gave him a back-off look. "What?" he whined to Bailey, "The kid don't have hair down there. So what am I supposed to think? Maybe we need to take him in for a statement then hand him over to Protective Services?" "I'm eighteen," Chris said, trying not to sound indignant, though he was a little embarrassed they saw he was hairless when they caught him naked. "Eighteen, huh," Officer Bailey said, with a raised eyebrow. "And three month, Sir," Chris added, riffling through his wallet to find his driver’s license. He knew officers like the 'Sir' thing, at least that’s what his brother had told him. When Ben was still at home, his brother was always telling him stuff like that. Like always look for an exit, or always have a plan B, which meant nothing to an eight-year-old. Or like always have two answer for any question you’re asked, if you shoot a gun keep firing till it’s empty, don’t ever mix G with alcohol, stay in your room when mom and Carl are high—useless or obvious stuff like that. Hell, for ten years he didn’t even know what G was until last night. "Here's my driver's license. And I don't know anything about this guy’s drugs habits. Maybe he was a dealer. I don’t know." He was emphatic. "I came in late and we went to sleep, and...." "And that’s why," Polanski interjected, "you're just getting up now, at four o’clock. That don't make no sense." "Jet lag," said Chris defensively. Then quickly added, “I guess it’s jet lag. Sir.” "So you come here looking for your brother and you meet this guy..." "We wrote a couple of letters and he said I could stay with them, with him. He told me he was his roommate, boyfriend, whatever." "And he let you stay the night." Polanski had that real prosecutor's attitude he'd seen Ben subjected to in court. "And the next day you wake up, late in the afternoon, answer the door naked as the day you was born, and this guy’s lying in the bathtub with slashed wrist, and you don't know nothin' about nothin'? Come on. You gotta do better than that." Chris looked crestfallen. Things were happening too fast. Last night was a crazy sex party, some of which he couldn’t even remember, and right on the heels of that craziness, this. Officer Bailey saw Chris' consternation. He sympathetically asked how long his brother had been missing. Chris didn't know exactly. Mike, he thought, said something like two weeks. Polanski chimed in, wanted to know if a missing person’s report was filed. Chris didn't know that either. Maybe he should have, he didn't know why he hadn't. He was in California. He looked down dejected, determined not to cry. Officer Bailey watched him carefully. There was something street wise but also pitiful about the kid. "So this guy's boss calls just now," Polanski continued prosecuting his case, "and you tell him you didn't see him today, even though he's sitting in a bathtub dripping blood two feet away. You covering up for something, aren’t ya kid?" "Nick, enough with the third degree. Can't you see the kid's about to lose it? Son,” Officer Bailey squatted down and squeezed Chris’ thin shoulders. “How much money you bring with you?" Chris took out his wallet again, counted out three singles. "When was the last time you ate something. I couldn't help seeing you're skinny as a rail." "Last night Mike made me some soup. Before that I had a cheese sandwich and crackers on the plane. I don't have a plan B. I know that's stupid. I'm a big, stupid moron, but honest, officer, I don't know about any of this.” Chris pointed at Manetti. “It's the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen. And I really didn’t even know the guy." Chris felt a crippling heartbreak hiding his true feelings about Manetti, how he so callously pushed aside how he really felt about him so quickly. Like he was talking trash like this, with him in the bathtub, right there. He prayed Manetti couldn’t hear him. What a fake and a jerk he was, how right his dad was about how worthless he was. Tears welled up and ran down his face, but he refused to acknowledge them and simply let them roll off his cheeks. He wanted Ben. He needed him now more than ever. He also wanted to go and throw his arms around Mike, wake him up, shake him, hit him, but instead he felt frozen in place, a sniveling little coward. "Listen," Officer Bailey said, sitting Chris at the kitchen table. Chris stared at the back of Manetti's head. "No, look at me, son." He turned the chair away from the tub. "You're not in trouble, but you are a witness. And there’s at least this stash of drugs in this apartment. Detectives will be here soon and take over the case. They'll do a full sweep, turn everything upside down. The coroner’s also coming and will take out the body. So you can't stay here, see? Do you have anywhere you can go? A relative? Maybe one of your brother's other friends?" Chris looked out the air shaft debating whether to talk about Master Drax. He noticed Polanski wasn't in the room. He decided that bringing up Master Drax or the place across the air shaft would be a bad avenue to go down with someone like Polanski. "Hey, Don, come take a look," Polanski called from the other room. Chris heard his own voice on tape rambling energetically, "And I want to get fucked in the gas station toilet. I want that fat turd, Duke, the owner, to fuck me from behind while I'm licking the urinal. You think I stink, man? You should smell that toilet some time. It's righteous foul." Chris came into the bedroom to see Polanski looking through the camera's viewfinder. Polanski rewound the tape a bit and hit play, and Manetti's and Chris' raunchy sex played out of the tinny speaker, no visuals needed. Polanski shut it off. "Doesn't look like you went to sleep right after you got here, pal," Polanski said. "Care to revise your story?" *** Chris totally bailed on Manetti. Said he tricked him to take drugs he didn't want. It wasn't entirely untrue, and he pressed how he was tied up and not at all into it until the drugs kicked in, and then he kind of went crazy. Bailey and Polanski could see that if they looked at the whole tape, which would be really humiliating, but at least it would show he wasn't a willing participant. Polanski wasn't buying it, but with Bailey, there at least was a strand of sympathy. "That why you don't have any hair? He did that to you in the sling when you were tied up?" Chris nodded. "Shitty pervert. So Nick," he said to Polanski, "look what the kid went through. He's out here by himself, don't know where the hell his brother is, run's into this dealer who tricks him, gets him high, ties him up, does God knows what else to him besides shaving him, and wakes up to find the guy who tied him up dead. The perv probably knocks himself off in some last act of conscience for what he done, and you're ready to lock the kid up for trusting this low-life scum. Anyway, look, it’ll be the detectives’ problem in a couple of in a half hour. All’s I'm saying is the kid's been through enough without us piling on him." Polanski frowned. "Yeah,” he looked the kid up and down, “well, maybe there's something to his story." He seemed a little ashamed. "But where does that leave the kid?" Bailey thought for a long moment before he said, "Well, I'm helping you out while you and Molly work things out.” Polanski looked embarrassed. “You're camping out in Tony’s room while my spoiled kid’s off in Europe. He could stay with us for at least a day or two since Kitty and Eddie are at the shore with her ma. He can have Eddie's room. Boy,” he said to Chris, who looked back at him with a spark of hope, “hate to say it, but you look like could use a bath and a couple of hot meals. I don't see how that puts us out any, Nick." Chris looked at the two men expecting Polanski to reject the idea flat out. He looked the type who’d be a real douche bag. "What about the tape?” Polanski asked. “It's pretty incriminating.” "What tape? I didn't see no tape," Bailey said innocently. He looked at Chris, who finally cracked a smile, "Did you see any tape, son?" Polanski pursed his lips, then gave in, shrugging his shoulders. He definitely let Bailey do the thinking. That suited Chris just fine. Bailey seemed like the first nice guy he met in New York since he got here. "We're square then. So, Chris," Officer Bailey said bringing out his wallet, "Here's ten bucks. Go to get some pizza down on Saint Marks or whatever.” He added conspiratorially, “But I'm telling you, Saint Mark’s pizza is the best pizza in New York. Then you catch the seven train out to Flushing. Here's my address." Bailey wrote out the address on his notepad and handed it to Chris. "I’m right across from where the train lets you off. Me and Nick, that is, Officer Polanski, we get off duty in an hour. We should be wrapped up here and back at my house by seven. Think you can get to us around then?" Chris nodded, he definitely could. He thanked Bailey, gratefully pumped his fleshy hand. He even shook Polanski's hand. He found his shoes and began putting them on. He still felt like a fuckhead betraying Manetti, but what was he supposed to do? He certainly didn't have a plan once Manetti offed himself. As he was tying his shoelaces, he wondered why Manetti did it, wondered if something happened after he blacked out. The drugs really fucked him good. As he picked up his gym bag, he flashed on the fact that even the small amount Manetti first slammed him with, he couldn't recollect when Manetti putting a dog collar on him. That was fucked up shit. He swore that was last time he’d ever slam. He saw keys on a hook next to the door, pocketed them, and then left the officers to do whatever they do in these types of incidences. He look back one last time at Manetti who, lying there in the tub, looked almost peaceful. *** Saint Mark's pizza was probably the best pizza he'd ever eaten. He ate two slices and drank a soda, then ordered a third slice. He downed it all while sitting on a stool looking out the window at all the people go by. In one corner of the pizzeria, a TV blared a local news station running a clip of President Reagan giving a speech at the U.N., followed by a traffic report about all the gridlock the president was causing, then ran a local news item about a manhunt in progress upstate. It was just noise that he easily ignored, and instead watched the spectacle out the window. What a bunch of freaks! Punk rockers were all over the place with their spikey Mohawks and safety pins in their noses. Tourist would come up and take pictures of them, then they’d chase the tourist and demand money. Most of the time the tourist paid except one guy in a cowboy hat refused and a fight broke out. A cop came over and broke things up. On the subway, the New York circus continued. An old man in an ascot held onto a subway strap in one hand and clutched a blind Chihuahua in the other; several ladies were touching up their heavy makeup in compacts; grannies in scarves with full shopping carts jabbered away in a foreign language; a group of drunk sailors in white sailor suits piled in and got off when he did at Forty Second Street. He transferred to the train to Flushing. There was graffiti all over everything, the connecting tunnels, the trains, even every single support beam had initials or a little drawing on it. The sailors reminded him of the graffiti in the abandoned building, then he thought of Manetti and started feeling low. After two stops on the Flushing train, a group of homeboys boarded the subway car with their boombox playing earsplitting rap music and started break dancing. They were really good. Spinning on their heads, using the poles in the middle of the cars to swing around, doing complete flips in the moving car. Before they got off they passed around a cap and he put a dollar in it. The boy who passed around the cap said thanks, bro, and held out his hand for a high-five. He high-fived him and that made him feel good. A couple of stations later four older black men got on and started harmonizing a familiar Motown song. Their harmonies and phrasing were perfect. The man he gave a dollar to blessed him and put his hand on his shoulder. Boy, New Yorkers, at least the brothers he saw, were really talented and super nice. As the train went on, fewer people got on. He followed the stops on the sign over the windows, counting down to the last stop. There was only maybe a dozen people when the train finally pulled in. One older Spanish lady was talking to herself vacantly looking out the window. She didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Chris guessed she was probably homeless, clutching her paper bag of valuable. He slipped two of his last dollars into her hand. She stopped talking for a second, looked up at him and said, Dios te bendiga, then went back to talking to herself. Or maybe she was praying. The platform clock pointed to a little after nine. He knew he dawdled coming here, and the train ride was much longer than he expected, but he was still surprised how late it was. The quiet street was dark, but finding the house was easy, especially because there was a hand-carved sign on the corner of the garage that said “The Bailey’s.” The big two-story house with little basement windows he guessed was a typical house for the neighbor, but he wasn't used to staying in anything so nice. To Chris it seemed like he was walking up to a mansion. He rang the bell and Officer Bailey answered. It was strange to see him in yellow boxer shorts and no shirt, but of course it was a warm night and he wouldn't always be walking around in his uniform. “Really nice house, Officer Bailey,” said Chris, as the older man ushered him in. Chris tried to keep his eyes up, but there was definitely a big packages swinging in those boxers. Bailey was a big bear of a man, not really muscly, but very solid. He had a large pillowy chest covered in reddish-brown fur, a tattoo of a lion on his shoulder, a cobweb sketched on his elbow, and a barbwire band around his left bicep. Chris tried to steer his mind away from how sexy his thought this daddy-type cop was. They entered the living room where a Yankees-Red Sox game was playing on a huge TV. He thanked the officer again for letting him stay, but Bailey interrupted him saying to call him Don, and pointed at Polanski sprawled on the sectional sofa in his boxer shorts too, saying “and that cocksucker is Nick.” "Yo," Polanski said curtly, and went back to watching the game. Polanski shirtless was a real piece of work. Both of his arms were covered in full sleeves, and there was very little that wasn’t inked on his chest and legs. His neck too was covered. What bothered Chris was that almost all of the ink, beside a few motorcycle-riding skeletons and smoking devils, was about white power and swastikas. He had to acknowledge, though, Polanski’s body was hot. He was built like a boxer, not huge, not particularly tall, but also not an ounce of body fat on him. His head was dark from short-cropped black hair. He lounged with one arm cradled behind his head showing off a sprawling pit of black hair. He smoked a cigar and scratched his shorts a lot revealing, Chris thought purposefully though he never looked at Chris, his big pecker. Several empty beer cans litter the coffee table. Both the men look well on their way to getting pretty sloshed. Don and Chris stood behind the sectional and followed the game for a couple of minutes. A warm night breeze came in from sliding glass door and the vertical blinds slapped together noisily under the din of the game. Don asked him if he wanted a beer, and Chris cheerfully accepted. Don said there was Popeye’s Chicken on the counter and plenty of beer in the fridge, that he should just help himself, that they were very informal here which was pretty obvious as he pointed to himself and Nick. Chris put down his bag and strolled into the kitchen. He’d never seen a kitchen as nice as this. Expensive looking pink marble was everywhere, rich redwood cabinets lined all the walls, and recessed lighting lit the room dramatically like it was a movie set. There were fluorescent lights but they weren’t turned on, just the spot lights over the marble counter and little lights under the cabinets. Big copper refrigerator and stove matched each other, as did the copper dishwasher. Even the sink was copper. It didn’t seem to fit Don, but maybe his wife was in charge of decorating. He piled his plate with chicken and a big heap of warm fries. He came back with his plate and beer, happily sitting crossed-legged at the coffee table, watching the game with the two men. Through a couple of innings, his opinion of Polanski didn’t improved, because as the game went on Polanski kept swearing racial names at the black players. Chris was too familiar with these kinds of asshole that grew up around him and did his best to only pay attention to the game, the food, and how nice Don was. At the end of the fifth, Don picked up Chris' finished plate. When he bent down he noticed Chris’ stink, and suggested he should probably wash up before bed. Bailey said his room—Eddie's room—was in the middle of the hall. Nick was in Tony's room at the far end, and the master bedroom was at the top of the stairs. The guest bathroom was right across from his room. Chris chugged that last of his beer, got up and thanked Don again for letting him stay, and also for the ten bucks. He said he had a couple bucks left but Bailey waved him off. He thanked him also for the beer and also for the chicken. Don interrupted, said enough with the thanks. Thanks enough, he kidded him, would be not to have a stinky bum in the house. Chris was a little embarrassed, but scurried excitedly upstairs with his gym bag to find Eddie’s room. His jaw literally dropped open when he entered the room. He looked around, thinking, what a life Eddie must lead! Soccer, swim, and baseball trophies were everywhere; posters of race cars and football players lined the wall; and a big Madonna poster was taped to his closet. The kid even had his own cassette stereo system with huge speakers and tons of neatly filed tapes. He didn't think cops made so much money. Eddie was so lucky! This rich kid even had his own color TV, a VCR, and Atari console, with Super Pac Man and Donkey Kong boxes stacked on the TV. He hoped he'd have some time to play them. On Eddie’s dresser, a framed Little League picture showed him holding a bat over his shoulder. He looked a little shorter than Chris and a whole lot younger, twelve maybe. He had blond hair like he did, and striking blue eyes, but what stood out the most to Chris was that he had a smile so confident and winning it literally beamed out of the frame. There were other pictures of him along the walls: him on the pitcher’s mound, mid-kick in the air making a soccer goal, him and his older brother with their ski masks up at a ski lodge, him and his family at the castle at Disney world. This guy had it all. The only thing that was weird was that the man in the Disney photo sort of looked like Don, but not really, but the photo was taken from far away so the family was really small. Mainly the picture was of the castle. Chris set his faded green gym bag on the dresser next to the photo. Looking around the spotless room, with its royal blue shag carpeting, and purple high gloss walls, and white wooden shudders, he felt his gym bag was probably the dirtiest, dingiest thing in here, well, except for maybe himself. Chris crossed the hall, dropped his jeans and t-shirt on the bathroom floor. The shower was all glass and polished metal. He got the temperature to where it was nice and hot, then relished the multiple jets washing over him. It was probably the best shower he was ever in. Jets sprayed him not only from the top, but also at his sides. He was sure he stank and was grateful Don made a joke out of it. He took up the soap and really scrubbed himself down. There was some shampoo in the stall and he used that too. When he rinsed his hair he saw the soapy water turn yellow, and that made him think of Manetti. He put his back to the jets and just hung there for a while as the water flowed over him. There was a knock on the door. He called out, “Yes?” He climbed out the shower feeling not only had he washed his last month of California off his skin, but also the last twenty-four hours as well. Don rapped again and came in. He looked Chris over while Chris grabbed a bath towel off a hook. Don closed the door behind him, and said he was going to start a load of wash before the game ended. The crystal glass he held showed he had switched over to drinking whiskey, and as the man swayed, Chris smirked to himself thinking the cop would never be able to pass a sobriety test. Chris ran the towel over his legs, feeling a little self-conscious being stared at naked, but the man already had seen him that way, and besides he was a dad and policeman, so he just continued wiping himself off with his towel. The cop said he couldn't help notice Chris' clothes could use a wash, hoped he didn't mind, but he'd already thrown the clothes from his gym bag in the washer and thought he'd just pick up these and toss them in too. "What'll I wear," Chris protested as he towel dried his hair. He saw Don looking at his pits and crotch. "Boy that perv shaved you within an inch of your life,” he said. He ran a hand over Chris’ shaved pit. “Truth is, without the wife and kids here, me and Nicky walk around naked most of the time.” He winked, and wobbled unsteady out the door with the last of Chris’ clothes. Chris quickly scoured Eddie's room and realized, even though he was small, he wasn't going to fit in some twelve-year-old’s clothes. He didn’t relish the idea of being naked. Maybe around Don he would, but Polanski was a turn off. He didn’t have many options though. He slinked down the hallway to see if there was something to wear in Nick/Tony's room but it was locked. He creeped to the staircase and saw the lights were off, and the sliding glass door was shut. Don’s bedroom door was ajar with blue TV light seeping through the crack. “Hey, kiddo,” Don called out, “we’re finishing the game in here.” Chris went in and found Don and Nick lying completely naked on the king size bed. They both sat up against the headboard, each with a glass of whiskey in their hands. Don certainly had a massive package. His reddish-brown fur extended to a dark brown swath of pubic hair, with a large semi-erect boner pointing straight out. "Bottom of the ninth, New York’s up by two," Don summarized, as if it were perfectly natural two grown men to always watch a Yankee game naked together on a king size bed. "C’mere, tiger, sit by your ol’ man.” “Yeah. C’mon, sport,” said Polanski, padding the space between them. His Polish sausage hung over two large smooth balls. The cock had a distinctive bend to it, like a large banana. His body was smooth but his crotch was covered, hip bone to pronounced hip bone, by the most substantial amount of the long, black public hair he’d ever seen. “Uncle Nick’s not going to bite.” He paused a beat. “Unless you want him to. Rarrr.” The two men laughed, then as a full count was announced, their attention drifted back to the game. “Swear to God, if that spade lets him walk I’m throwing my fuckin' drink at the fucker.” The umpire called a final ball, and the batter tossed his bat, trotting to first. Polanski, true to his word, flung the glass at the TV. The shattered glass broke violently with whiskey running down the screen. It made Chris flinch, but Don didn’t seem to care. The man again gestured to Chris to come sit next to him. Chris climbed over Polanski’s tattooed legs, and Polanski put a hand on his smooth young ass and gave him a sharp slap. “Woo-ee, who’s not stinky boy anymore? Swear to God boy, you were as smelly as a sewer pipe, and we’re pretty familiar with sewer pipes, ain’t we Donny?” “There he is,” said Don, as Chris settled next to him. The man draped his arm over his bony shoulders. “Fresh as new born baby. Boy, you do clean up nicely, doesn’t he Nicky?” He ran his hand through Chris’ wet hair. “Sure does. Fresh as a daisy.” Nick leaned to get close to his skin and inhaled deeply. “Fresh as a sweet Sunday morning.” "Give your old man a hug like you do when your ma's not home." Chris looked briefly from man to man, deciding whether to play along. He decided. "That's it, kiddo," Don said wrapping his thick arms around the boy. "You're too skinny, except in some new places." He reached down and grabbed Chris' cock. Chris jumped a little, was weirded out but still kind of getting excited. The man was a big furry bear, and his fleshy chest had surprisingly hard muscle underneath. He felt Polanski creep up behind him. His hand went between Chris' butt cheeks and started pressing against his hole. Polanski said, "Eddie sure feels like he's growing up, don't he Daddy Don? Feels like he might even turn out to be a man someday." Polanski stopped as his finger slipped easily into Chris’ anus. "Ah, man, you gotta feel this pussy, Don. That don't feel like virgin pussy, does it to you Officer Bailey?" They both put a finger in Chris' hole. "That most definitely does not feel like virgin pussy." Both men laughed. Chris was actually getting hard, but then there was the sharp crack of a ball being hit. Both men looked over at the game, completely abandoned Chris' sphincter, and leaned forward in bed, crying, No-no-no-no. The batter sent the ball to center-right and it went over the wall. Three men came charging around the bases and the game was over. Don exasperated, got up and went to a fancy bar cart next to the TV and refilled his drink. "You're cleaning that up in the morning," he said to Polanski pointing at the broken glass on the carpet. "Nother one?" Polanski asked if there was another glass. Don went in the master bath and came back with one. He poured Polanski his drink, and said to Chris, "I'd give you one, Edward, but I have a bone to pick with you, young man.” He looked at Chris with mock seriousness. Chris couldn't tell if Don was just drunk or if he was into some serious role play. He guessed role play but wasn't one hundred percent sure. "Eddie, Eddie. Eddie Spaghetti," he said in mock consternation. "I want you to tell me and Uncle Nick about this". He picked up Chris' gym bag that had been sitting on the carpet next to the bar cart. He reached inside and brought out Manetti box of drugs and set it delicately on the cart next to the whiskey and vodka bottles. "Edward Hunter Bailey, I want the truth now. Where did you get these?" he asked, flipping the lid and pulling out three loaded needles. Chris was taken aback. He'd taken that from Manetti's? Was he serious? What kind of cop was he? And was he supposed to be Eddie responding to this, or himself, Chris? He ad-libbed innocence, "Wh-what is that, dad?" "You tell me, son. It's in your bag." "I've never seen them before. What is it?" "Good question, Eddie. Let's see. Officer, please restrain my son." With that, Polanski grabbed Chris' arms and pinned him face down, ass up, in the bed. "Now, boy, don't struggle or Uncle Nick is going to seriously send you into a world of pain." Chris felt his right arm being forced agonizingly up his back. He stopped moving and let Bailey pull out his free arm. The man flipped over his forearm, and he felt the needle go. In less than a minute he felt his body become flush again with heat. Polanski let him go and he rolled to his side, letting the drug roll over him. Fuck, it wasn't fair, was his last fully conscious thought, but then he was horny all over again, and he knew he was totally going to give into these men. As the drug took him over, he wanted them to. More and more he wanted daddy bear and the nazi to corrupt him. While the crystal coursed through his body, igniting his groin, he ran his hands over his cock and inserted fingers in ass. There was a wash of background noise, but he was solely focused on his hole and how empty if felt. He heard Don ask Polanski if he want it in the arm or neck? "Neck," said Polanski, "it's been a long time." Chris was feeling really energized. He popped got up and paced a little holding his arm in the air, then sat against the headboard to watch Don shoot Polanski up. A new, bent fascination had been born in him. Rather than shying away from needles, he became riveted by them. He’d never seen or even imagined someone shooting up in their neck. He couldn't even conceive of how that must feel, but he wanted to see Polanski do it. Polanski laid on his side at the edge of bed and Bailey knelt beside him. Between two zigzag SS's on Polanski’s neck, Bailey found a thick vein, stuck him, registered some blood, then slowly sent the liquid directly into Polanski's brain. When Don pulled out, Polanski pressed his neck with his finger and rolled onto his back. The man said nothing but his eyes popped open and rolled back in his head, his bent cock drool a shitload of pre-cum. Only the whites showed in his eyes and his lids fluttered. He was spasming slightly. Chris ran his hand through the man’s field of black pubes. It was like silk, yards and yards of fine silk. Polanski breathing was rapid and he responding to Chris’ touch with deep moans. He guided Chris’ head to his cock and Chris started working on it, adjusting his angle so he could deep throat the man’s massively curved cock. While Chris sucked the incapacitated man, Don prepped himself with a tourniquet around his thick bicep, found a suitable vein on the front of his forearm, rocked the needle till blood flooded the chamber, then slammed. He fell back on Chris’ hip and, through heaving breath, pulled Chris off of Polanski and crushed him beneath his weight. Chris was pinned but the heavy body actually felt erotic. Pinned, he squirmed obscenely, all skin, no hair, against all hair and rolling flesh. With enormous effort, Bailey rolled to his side bringing Chris along with him. They faced each other running their hands along chests and cocks, a study in opposites, Bailey pressing his fur against the boy, Chris rubbing his smooth skin across the man. Polanski rolled himself to the side was again sticking a finger, then two into Chris' hole. Chris pushed back against his hand and wiggled his ass till he had three fingers in him. "Baby boy, go down on daddy," Bailey said pushing Chris' head down to his crotch. Bailey was a big bear in every way. His fleshy dick was half hard and as Chris went down to suck it, Polanski had his mouth all over Chris' hole, getting it wet and ready to be fucked. The scent of wet cock sent Chris into a frenzy. It was difficult to differentiate what he wanted more, to give head to Bailey or get fucked by Polanski. Bailey decided for him. He rolled on his back and said he wanted baby bear to ride daddy bear's Big Bad Cock. Chris straddled the large man and fed his cock into his wet hole. Polanski was quick to follow the hole he desperately wanted. After Bailey had penetrated Chris, with Chris making obscene noises of pleasure, Polanski set his cock against Bailey's and with every stroke Bailey took, he got his cock in to double dick Chris. Chris' noises of pleasure turned to distressing pain, but again, somehow he enjoyed the distress. He quickly learned to stay stationary as the two men simultaneous pushed in and pulled out. By staying still they could go deeper, and did. At one point with too much motion, Polanski fell out. He immediately pushed himself back in and punished Chris by smacking ass. Chris cried out but pushed his ass deeper onto the men’s cocks. It felt precarious, that they had to work so hard to sustain the position, but it was a position that pleased everyone. Bailey and Polanski were sexually aroused rubbing their cocks against one another, and Chris relished the feeling of being torn apart by the girth of two men at the same time inside him. Their passion built on one another, as the drugs wiped their minds, they became feral animals clawing at each other, rutting in pleasure, nails going into backs, pelts of brown and black fur pressed into a smooth, hairless hole. Bailey and Chris made out while they fucked, and Polanski slapped Chris’ ass with increasing violence. Polanski rambled in Chris’ ear how he was going to take is night stick and rape his with it, ram it up the kid’s ass, how he’d take his gun and make Chris give it head. He started fingering Chris’ the tip of Chris hard dick, trying to get a finger down his piss slit. He said he was going to arrange to have Chris sent to prison to be gang raped. “Would you like that, would you like that, boy?” he breathed into Chris’ ear. Chris readily agreed. Whatever Polanski wanted he’d submit to him. The flow from Polanski’s imagination was unceasing. Somewhere during his description of being his prison bitch, it triggered something in Bailey and he nutted. Polanski was on another level entirely, rutting and heaving, not anywhere on this planet, just a mass of sensations and vile thought, desperately wanting to tear Chris apart. After Bailey emptied the last of his spooge, he started going flaccid and with Polanski pile driving into Chris, his dick soon fell out. Chris also settled down and let Polanski fuck him with ever increasing intensity. He laid on Bailey's chest while the big man stroked his hair. It was an intense combination. Bailey running soothing fingers over his head while Polanski tore angrily into his ass. Polanski had kept up smacking the shit out of the kid's ass, and as the beating became harder, the cracks louder, the more Bailey cooed and shushed Chris' stifled grunts and cries. Still, through it all Chris remained hard. Welts were forming on his ass as Bailey pulled his face down into his neck. Chris felt the bristles on Bailey's neck, and heard Bailey telling him he was alright, that it would soon be over. Chris let himself go limp falling onto Bailey, and in the background the white noise of the post-game wrap up morphed into the local Eyewitness News. The manhunt continued, said the anchor, for two convicts who had escaped from upstate New York four days ago. Bailey kept stroking the boy's hair. The men had escaped through the facility's sewage treatment center dressed as workers. Polanski slipped his arm around Chris' neck. Bailey’s mind drifted off, he repeated his cooing words to Chris. The two men were believed to have crossed into Canada. Canadian officials had cordoned off an area near the border where the two men were believed to be. Polanski wrapped his arm tighter against Chris’ throat, cutting off his airway. Chris started struggling on top Bailey and bucking against Polanski's body. Polanski mindlessly fucked the kid's hole edging closer to cumming the harder Chris struggled. It was a nasty cycle: the more Chris struggled, the harder Polanski increased his hold around his neck. Chris' hole was clenching like crazy trying to spit out Polanski, but instead is was making Polanski cock engorge larger every time it was squeezed. Chris flew into a frenzy to try to get him off and to break his hold. He rasped audibly, and in one long final lunge, Polanski was set free. He spewed ropes of cum deep into the quaking boy. He pulled Chris' head as far back as it would go. The boy's tongue lolled out, his eyes bulged, and he involuntarily released an enormous orgasm spilling buckets of cum onto Bailey pubes. His eyes rolled back in his head, his eyelids fluttered, then all movement ceased. Everything went black, his body went limp, and Chris no longer struggled. Weather with Frank Fields, announced the TV anchor, was up next.

Lito Cruz, Dumbo, Peto Coast are all contenders...but Tyler Reed is my absolute favorite.

Todd couldn't believe his eyes as he watched the video. Dan held him playing with his rock hard cock. Dan knew he had Todd just where he wanted him and Todd knew it too. He was nothing more than Dan's toy. He would find out much more about games at a club this very evening. Dan told Todd to sleep now. But first a warm milk would help. The milk smelled of vitamin bottle and tasted of vanilla. It was a high calorie drink, warmed and lovingly adminstered. Meanwhile, Dan called three of his closest friends to announce that he had a new boy. They came over to examine Todd. Each brought a gift with him. Joe brought a cock cage. Tommy brought a ball gag. Ed, Ed brought a nipplering and the piercing tools. Dan had slipped a strong sleeping drug into Todd's drink. He would not wake for the piercing, only be surprised when he woke. Dan, meanwhile, rolled the boy over to shave the blond hair from his sweet swollen hole. The three guests all enjoyed the view. When the sweet hole was bare, they rubbed aloe in. All the while, Todd slept looking angelic. The four friends went thru Todd's clothes. They found nothing usable for their evening out. Ed and Joe left to find just the right attire for the evening. They went to a thrift shop where they bought well-worn jeans and very washed out tshirts. They discussed underwear and decided that Todd would go commando. The jeans were old and soft and would not chafe Todd too badly.