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Laying there, wrists and ankles cuffed, ball gag in my mouth, I couldn't decide if I was excited or confused. The scorpion tattoo told me that Ryan was Poz... and the head of his cock was slowly entering my tight hole. He looked at me and said "you said you would do anything boy" and I looked into his eyes and slowly nodded, unable to speak. With that, his full weight full onto me and his huge cock broke through my tight ass and plunged deep and hard. Through the ball gag I tried to scream! tears sprung to my eyes and he lay buried deep inside me... 'you'll get used to it boy... or you won't... I don't care" and with that he pulled almost out again and then dropped his weight again onto me and plunged his cock as far as it would go, balls to my ass cheeks. I only know I continued to struggle scream into the ball gag as he plunged back in and pulled back out so many times I lost count. His eyes that were so kind and loving were full of evil. and it went on and on. With my wrists and ankles shackled together, I could only try to roll and moan which only seemed to get him harder. 9 inches of big thick cock plunging hard and deep into my hole, stretching me out, making me almost pass out. AFter what seemed like hours - Ryan started to gather speed and pound even harder if that is possible, until finally, he wrapped both hands around my throat and started to choke me as he yelled out "I'm cumming, I'm cumming, take it boy, take it boy" and I almost felt like I could feel his cock explode inside me, coating my guts with his seed. tears rolling out of the corners of my eyes. He finally pulled out and took the ball gag off. "Well boy, you said you would do anything...right" But that tattoo, that tattoo was the first thing I said... it means.... it means... Yes he said. It means I'm poz and so will you. You said you wanted to be my boy and you would do anything for me. I gasped, tears still in my eyes, and my wrists and ankles still shackled together... but I didn't know.... Ryan looked at me - you didn't know? You are a college educated grown ass man. You know exactly what you want, what you are doing and now you are about to know what it means to be owned. I looked at him. What? I don't understand? You will boy. And with that he put the ball gag back in my mouth, then wrapped a bandana around that to muffle any sound that might come out. And since he was so much bigger, it was easy for him to lift me up and take me out of the tent and into the smaller one that he had set up next to ours. It was just a two man tent and I noticed there were just a few blankets on the floor of the tent. He laid me on it, on my back, ankles and wrists still shackled. Leaving me laying there with his cum dripping out of my bloody hole. He had made a time out of really pounding and breeding me open. Ryan leaned in towards my ear and whispered... "Now boy, I like to fuck and breed, but I really get off on hearing you moan and grown when others are abusing the fuck out of your hole and there is nothing you can do... but don't worry, I'll save you in the morning". And with that he left me there. I could hear him out by the fire, open up a new beer and through some logs on the fire. It didn't take long before our neighbors stopped by . Ryan said "hello guys, what's up?" Their response - "Damn, we heard you going to town on your boy - that was so hot!" Ryan then said "you think so? he's a tight assed 22 year old and really needs some experience getting broken in... it's his fantasy and I promised him I would help. Why don't the two of you go into his tent and help him make his fantasy come true?" "Dont be afraid to be rough - he told me the rougher the better". Damn, you serious they said - and with that I heard the tent screen push away.

It was the evening of December 21st and very snowy. I was 24 and horny. I thought I'd celebrate the Winter Solstice with some Pagan fucking. I found a hot profile of a safe sex 50ish daddy type that was horny too. We chatted for a brief time about the details of our soon to be sexual encounter. Before long, I was on the train north. I would be there in 20 minutes. I got off at Granville and walked the few blocks to his building on Glenlake. It was next to the EL tracks. I buzzed the door and was let up. I was greeted at the apartment door by my safe sex daddy. He looked exactly like his profile pics. He waved me into the apartment. The only illumination was the red glow from the tree across the room. It was a warm incandescent glow and not the cold light of LEDs. We moved to the kitchen counter where there was a joint and two whisky shots. He picked up the joint lit it. He took a big drag. He held it as he closed the distance between us. He moved towards my mouth for a shotgun. I quickly exhaled in preparation. He put his lips lightly against mine and proceeded to exhale. I held his smoke and held it for as long as i could as he began to kiss me. It was nice. He backed away and handed me the whisky shot. I was reluctant but I acquiesced. It burned going down as whisky often does. He wasn't much of a talker. We went back to shotgunning back and forth until the last of the joint was just a tiny roach. It was excellent pot. I was fucking stoned out of my mind. We started to undress right there in the living room. I stripped down to my jock. He motioned to the floor in front of a big floor to ceiling window that looked out to the red line trains moving north and south. Seems like he might enjoy an audience. It sounded hot to me, I love having an audience I was really getting hit hard by the pot and whiskey. So much so that I was a little dizzy. That was out the ordinary for me for smoking and one drink. I had a brief thought that there might have been more in the whiskey than I realized when he pushed me down on my shoulders. The thought was gone once his dick was in my face. It was a handsome dick. It smelled musky good. He probably took a shower that morning but nothing since. Such a great smell. I took his semi into my mouth, and he grew to a fairly thick seven and a half inches or so. As I was sucking, his finger closed my nostril and poppers appeared at my nose. I automatically inhaled deeply one side and repeated that action on the other. I was now flying. I took his cock to the root. Poppers make me want to have a dick all the way down my throat. So I made that happen. I massaged his dick with my throat muscles to my best ability. Any time I needed air, I forced his dick deeper. It tasted so good. Finally, I had to breathe. I released his dick and tasted oxygen again. He squatted and pushed me onto my butt. The poppers reappeared. One side and then the other. I reclined to my elbows while riding the hit. His unlubed fingers were up inside my butthole. He was a bit forceful, but it paired nicely with the poppers and the high. I was really beginning to have trouble knowing where I was and what happening at this point. He was now talking about how good I must be feeling, and I was. I just felt like one sexual nerve ending that was on fire. More poppers and my legs were lifted to his shoulders. I felt his cock at my hole and then he pushed forward with no warning. It was fast and steady to the hilt. I opened my mouth but no sound came out. Between the pot, the popper hits, the oxygen deprivation from the long deep throating and whatever else was probably in my shot I was losing momentary grip on my reality and faculties. What I did know, was that it hurt so good. He held his dick at the deepest in before he began to saw in and out. Then he began talking. "Your hole feels so good. So warm and tight." He kept long dicking me. "Your hole is sliding along the skin of my bare cock. I'd bet you like that don't you. That's what you really want." Somewhere in the recesses of my mind there was the words 'condom' and 'safe sex', but he was right. It felt fantastic. I tried to talk back but I couldn't form any coherent words. He chuckled and kept fucking. The poppers hit my nose. I finally thought I saw him use the poppers for himself. He asked "Where do you I want it?" I still couldn't form words to speak. He was supposed to cum inside a condom, not me. I couldn't get words out. He then said "I am going to breed you." His pace increase furiously and he shot his load deep inside me. He eventually pulled out. I looked at him. His cock was cummy. I wanted to be pissed, but I couldn't will the anger forth because of my state. He looked up to my right and I was able to follow his gaze. I then registered that there was another man standing right next to us. I had no idea how long he had been there. I thought we were alone. There had been no mention of a third person. He was very thin and haggard looking, but with what seemed to be a very large dick. Before I could take in any more of him, the poppers were back at my nose. That's what I needed at that moment. Daddy crawled up and over my body, and proceeded to push his cummy cock into my mouth. My legs were lifted up at the same time. Swiftly, the very large cock of the new haggard man entered me. I screamed but daddy's dick was as far down my throat and I only made a muted humming noise. I was being reamed a both ends. I was seeing stars. I was close to passing out, maybe I already had a time or two. Daddy finally pulled out. I tasted throat mucus, cum and pennies. I was now staring into the eyes of the new haggard man. He was plowing me roughly. I could feel how big his dick was. I was loving it. The feeling was bliss. He talked but I was in no way able to comprehend has words. They were jumbled up with the poppers, seeing stars and the ecstasy coming from my ass. I had no idea how long this was going on. It seemed like forever though. Haggard man was increasing his fuck speed and his mouth was moving. I think he was talking to me, but I didn't understand. There was more poppers for me and for haggard too. Within seconds, his face began to contort as he slammed deep into me. Again and again and again. Rope after rope after rope of his cum shot as deep as anything has ever shot inside me. The moment was magnificent sexual explosion. He fell down on me seemingly satisfied. He lay on my chest all hot and dripping sweat. He moved his mouth to mine and raped my mouth with his own. He finally stopped and lifted himself up. My eyes followed his gaunt sweaty red face and then he crawled up over my body just like daddy had done. I got another poppering just before haggard's dick entered my mouth. He reached further down than daddy could. As he was, I was rapidly running out of air. Even with my eyes open, I was seeing stars again. I was also seeing a large biohazard symbol right in front of my eyes. I didn't think about it. It was just there. Haggard pulls out slowly. The taste of throat mucus, cum and pennies return. He leans down to my face and says "You're Welcome." I don't remember dressing. I do vaguely remember going down stairs, cold and snow, the roar of trains overhead and a door slamming behind me. I do not know how I got home, but I did. The next morning I awoke on my couch in all my clothes. My butthole was sore but felt good. I stood and pulled down my pants and jock. It was a pink cummy mess.

I've been reading this forum for a long time... but this is first post. Travelling for work this week, and last night decided to see who was about where I'm staying. First grindr taker was an older guy with a good looking cock. I drove over and met his hilariously friendly puppy. We then went to the bedroom and quickly got naked. I could tell he was really horny. A few minutes later he was fucking me hard missionary style, his thick cock felt great and I could see he loved my ass. I reached up and tweaked his nipple and his cum exploded inside me... i could feel it throb over and over. He apologised for cumming so soon, and I said 'never apologise, it's awesome' 😉 He stayed hard for a while, his cock deep inside me, as we had some chat and cuddle. Load #1. Next message on my phone was from suit guy up from Sydney for meetings. I went to his hotel and he fucked me for a long time, changing around positions. He was very affectionate, pausing fucking now and then to kiss. A hot and nice guy. After lots of pounding he eventually said "I think i might cum" hahaha so I said 'give it to me', and he blew a big load with his cock balls deep in me. So far so good! Load #2. After back to my own hotel, I got a message from this guy who chats to me a lot on grindr, even though we've never met. He's in the same town tonight and desperate for my ass lol soon after, he's at my place. Younger asian guy - hard muscled body, really hot. Stripping off, I see he his cock is even better than the pics he shared... really nice one. We make out for a while, as if we're old friends. It's really comfortable to be naked with him, cuddling, kissing, chatting... after a while I sit my ass down on his rock hard cock. A huge smile on his face. He quickly takes charge, flipping me over to fuck doggy style. Really hard and strong fucker. At one stage he even picked me up, his cock hard in my ass. After a few changes of position we end up standing, he's fucking me from behind and pulls my face around to kiss, saying 'I'm gonna cum' as I feel the flood of it in my pussy. Load #3. Met three nice guys and went to bed with my hole feeling well used and full of their cum.

Jackson—January, 2022 I kept to myself, or with trusted fuck buds, most of January while the new variant was ravaging parts of my state. I finally felt comfortable enough to go back to a bookstore. I chose the one that had more space so we were not on top of each other—unless we chose to be… It’s Saturday afternoon. The parking lot is busy. The huge piles of plowed snow reduce the size of it, but there are still more cars here than I expected. I go in and buy my ticket for the lounge—where there are six or seven viewing stations for different types of porn. “Sure you don’t want the combo—so you can use the booths downstairs?” I assure her that the lounge is fine. She sighs. I have seemingly offended her. I smile and go in. After all the sunshine on the snow outside, it seems darker than usual in here. At first glance, I don’t see very many men—maybe that’s why she was trying to send me downstairs to the booths. I make the tour to see. There is one man watching the Trans porn. No one at the straight flicks or the all girl video. There is an older guy watching young men fuck women older than 50. The bondage screen has no viewers. I go down the long hallway to the gay area—where there are two screens. One man is in the larger room and another in the smaller alcove. And I know one of them—socially but not sexually. We nod to each other. He quickly puts away his cock and heads to another area. I sit in the bigger room. I unbutton and stroke. The porn is indifferent. I hear the door to the lounge squeak open and shut. I wait as the man makes the same rounds I did. He arrives. He looks at me and unzips before sitting in a chair to my left. It’s the Marathoner: the runner who is a huge cocked top, but loves me to eat his ass as he strokes. We nod to each other. His cock is likely only half an inch longer than me, but he is much thicker. The few times I have tried to suck it, I am feel like I am all teeth on him—there is no way to cover them with my lips, my mouth is so stretched. But he doesn’t really want that from me anyway… He stands up and feeds me his dickhead just long enough to get it wet. He turns and bends—his ass inches from my face. It is a muscle butt. He is obviously still running. I poke my tongue dead center of his pucker. He gasps and strokes harder. “You’re the only guy who eats me…” he whispers from under his mask. I go to town. I am up and down his fairly hairy crack. Each time I pass his hole I jab it with my tongue. And it’s beginning to open for me. I am leaning across the arm of a sofa to get at him. I can connect—but it’s awkward. He finally senses it and comes around front so I can have better access. I spit and prod and lick. The man from the small room has come out to stroke and watch. The Marathoner does not like this. He gives him a withering stare and the guy returns to his porn. I hold on to the Marathoner’s hips and begin tongue fucking him. He is stroking his cock and moaning loudly. Suddenly he pulls away from me. I think he must be about to shoot. No. He is trying to sit on my super hard cock. What the fuck!? He prods himself with me four or five times. I don’t ever go in—but it makes his hole open up. Then he repositions himself for more licking. Fuck. I can taste my precum on his hole. The old Marathoner would freak out if he knew that. I know he’s on PrEP now—is he occasionally bottoming? I stroke my wetter cock and continue to rim. I find my lube bottle and lube my dick for better stroking. Suddenly he pulls away again and does the same bounce on me. He groans in the back of his throat with each bounce. My cockhead is going farther into him. He groans. I am about to enter him… And a guy walks into our room. The Marathoner is off my cock and out of the room, doing up his pants as he goes. I don’t see him the rest of the day. * I have moved to the Trans porn. The Latino who I met here and who came to the house (but could never get clean) is giving me head. His mouth is great today. I idly wonder if he can taste the Marathoner’s hole on me. He asks if I want to fuck him. I decline…and he goes off to the arcade downstairs. * I move to the small gay area. It is a good 20 minutes since I have seen anyone else. A young blond in a baseball cap comes in. College age and slender. He looks at my cock and sits in the chair on the other side of the room. He pulls out a slender six incher. I stroke to the porn, he strokes to me. He has gotten rid of his winter coat before sitting down. But now he stands up and gets rid of his shirt. Then his pants—all tossed in a pile on the floor. He is now in nothing but thick socks and underwear pulled down under his balls for stroking freedom. We stroke. Now we are eyeing each other, not the porn. “Daddy, can I suck you?” I nod. He gets on all fours and crawls between my legs. His ass is a true bubble butt, straining against the tightness of the fabric. “Lick my balls first,” I tell him. He does. With lots of spittle left behind. He works his way up my shaft, ovals and proceeds to give me really good head.—but we both know what the other wants. “Fuck me?” “Sure.” “I hope you don’t use condoms—I want you raw.” This makes my cock drool. I let him lick it off before I stand up. He gets rid of the underwear and kneels in the chair I was sitting in, presenting his 20-something ass to me. I kneel and lick it. This makes him moan. He is very lightly haired—nothing in the crack, just a light fuzz circling his hole. Totally the opposite from the Marathoner—which turns me on even more. “Stick your raw dick in me.” I stand up and slap my cock on his wet crack. “Give it to me,” he moans. I prod his hole. Just the slightest pressure of my cock head makes it flower open. The boy obviously likes anal. “You like dick in your hole, don’t you?” “Only raw dick, Daddy. And only from real men.” I have sunk halfway into him. He stops talking and begins panting. I work the rest of me into him. “Fuck…” he hisses. “So much cock…” And it’s true. He is filled. The look of his butt taking me fully is intoxicating. I begin to fuck. “Do it. Fuck me. Fill me.” It becomes a chant for him. A piece of the phrase on every stroke of my cock. “Do it.” I grind my pubes into his hairless butt and pull almost all the way out. “Fuck me.” I pick up the tempo. I know this is not going to be a long fuck. “Fill me.” “That what you want?” “Cum in me. Make me yours…” I am damn close. I fuck him faster. Suddenly his ass clamps down on me. He squeals as he unloads his balls all over the seat of the chair. “FILL ME!” And I do. Spurt after spurt. Giving him just what he wanted… The original is here, with a good cock pic of me: From My Side of the Sling: “Do It. Fuck Me. Fill Me.” (felchingpisser.blogspot.com) March 6, 2022.

So throughout the week we texted. He kept building up my hope and trust. Telling me how much fun we would have, teasing me with not being able to wait to take my virginity. He wanted it to be right and memorable and wanted to know if I would really commit myself to him. Of course, being just 22 and never been in a real gay relationship, and of course he was older and sexy and hung... I so wanted him to be my first. And I kept falling for him. So on Friday, I left work early and met him at his apt. He had an SUV already loaded and after a quick kiss - told me to jump in. And we were off. A few hours later, we landing at the camp ground in Binghamton. We found our site - #112. And proceeded to set up our big tent. When we were done, Ryan also then pulled out a smaller two man tent and set that up. I asked why? and he replied - We need a tent to store our stuff and not crowd the big tent. I felt a little silly. I hadn't really been camping before. We then build a fire and had a few beers. It was getting dark and I was horny. Ryan kept stroking my crotch and kissing me, hard. I kissed back harder. He kept whispering "I want you tonight.. and you promised me anthing, right?" Anything daddy, anything. I said back. We went into the tent and Ryan had me strip, then he proceeded to pull out a leather collar and wrist and ankle cuffs. I kinda giggled. Ryan smiled - I like this he said... it makes me feel in control. So I let him cuff and collar me, anticipating and exciting night. Ryan also stripped down to nothing and stood there in the tent, his huge, thick 9 inch cock throbbing. A fell to my knees, slobbering on his cock, swallowing it, gasping as he began to face fuck me. After a while, he pulled me off his cock and flipped me on my back. He dove down and started to eat my hole. My legs in the air, my hole quivering as his tongue darted back and forth. his teeth pulling and nibbling into my ass. Every now and then he would pull back and slap my ass. hard. it stung, but felt so good. Ryan reached around and somewhere a bottle of lube was in his hand. He lubed me up and inserted a finger into my hole. I gasped with excitement and anticipation. He prodded in and out, and then a second finger went in. Soon, he slipped up between my legs and I stared into his eyes. His weight on me. His hard cock resting between my ass cheeks. He cuffed my right wrist to my right ankle. then the left wrist to the left ankle. I was in a position of not being able to stop him. He looked at me... Anything boy? Anything I want you will let me do boy? yes Sir I moaned. That was when I noticed on his hip the little scorpion tattoo. I had not noticed it before. but it was too late. I knew what it meant. I had read about it. I had heard stories. I knew he was Poz. It was too late, he reached behind me and slipped a leather knot around my head that had a ball gag on it and into my mouth, his cock head was already slowly pushing into my hole. Little did I know, his slowly pushing was about to end and a long brutal assault was just about to start....and it was only the begining of the weekend....little did I know that after this three day weekend, I too would be like the boy Mike. Broken, head bowed, and willing to do anything he said.

So was sitting at home Thursday night checking out the usual sites online. A message popped up asking if I was looking. He must’ve at least scanned my profile and read that I like to suck and bottom. Pretty straight forward. Being from small town Minnesota and fairly familiar with the regular profiles that show up around here, I for sure hadn’t seen his before. Live here or visiting, I asked. Visiting his cousin at the community college. Also put it bluntly that he needed release and if I could suck him off. Of course! And I swallow. He obviously couldn’t host due to being at cousins so I said I could , but asked how he was gonna excuse himself from his cuz’ dorm. “Just gonna tell him I’m headed quick to McDonald’s.” I think quickies are great and give him the addy. He arrives, I sit him on the couch, and he pulls out this tasty looking 8” piece of meat which matches the pic he shared earlier. Damn! Looking good. I had sent him a pic of my chub ass, both empty and with a bare cock in it. Just a little advertising. Well, I spend the next 10-15 minutes working him over with my tongue, mouth, and throat. Thought with him being in a hurry he’d be wanting to nut right away but he’d get to the edge and back me off. Did that 3 times… guess he’s not in a huge hurry. Lol. Anyway, after the 3rd time he reaches round my back for my hole. I have lube, I whisper. I had staged the lube and condoms and towels nearby as I’m always hopeful. I reached for the lube and slicked up my hole. He reached for the condom and wrapped up. In 4 seconds he’s balls deep and we’re both moaning in pleasure as I’m bent over the sofa. After a couple minutes of starting to get worked over, he repositions and I feel something hit my foot. I know what it is. It’s why I sent him the second pic of my ass. I wanted him to know I take it raw and he was happy to oblige. That rubber no sooner hit my foot and he was buried balls deep again. I’m gonna seed you like I’m sure that guy in the pic did, he says. Use me! And within the next minute he did just that. Used me as his cumdump. While recovering and his dressing I let him know he could count on me anytime he came to visit his cousin. Although, he might have to vary his excuse of a Mickey D’s run for future fuck sessions.

Had the best fuck, possibly ever. Met a guy who wanted to hook up with me and his partner. Turned out to be two couples when I got to his place. Walked in, told me to strip and hop in the sling. He strapped me in and proceeded to lick my entire body, very sensual. The nhis partner and two friends showed up, was a little nervous but they all went to work on a different body nips lips, neck, toes inner thighs, hole, They all seemed concentrated on seeing if what they were doing would get a reaction out of me. They got lots of reactions. When they finally got around to fucking me, I was ready for anything and anyone. while one fucked the others made sure I could feel my entire body. Getting fucked, beard scruff on my neck,toes sucked and nipples played with at the same time was a revelation. They tried hard to avoid touching my cock, but while the second guy was fucking, I started to cum. A lot. One guy slurped up the cum, the second guy kept fucking, and the other two started working harder on my toes and nipples, and whatever else they could. Normally I need a little break after cumming, but didn't get the chance. With all the other stuff going on in and around my body I didn't need to. Number three started fucking and the whole cycle repeated. After number four came, he unstrapped my right hand and told me to cum. Took me a moment, but then one of them started fucking me again , I came at the same time as one of them came i my mouth. I was exhausted, but it felt amazing. I felt really grateful They were the nicest guys!

There it was... posted between the mirrors in the public shower room at the all men's campground: "Help break in my new boy - Site 112 - All night breeding and seeding session - No condoms allowed - 22 year old colllege boy taking all loads with no complaints - Starts at 10 pm until sunrise - Saturday and Sunday night" That was what he did to me. That was how he became my daddy and my owner. My protector and my pimp. There was nothing left to do but now but go back to our campsite #112, with my head down, knowing it was going to happen again tonight. But let me take you back a bit to how it all started, just a few weeks ago. I was 22, and just out of college with my first job in NYC. I was so excited. I could really be 'gay' and experience all the fun things I had been a bit shy to do before and with not living at home and out of college, it could happen! I mean I was an adult with a studio in NJ and taking the path train each day to NYC was a blast. But just a month after graduating, and a week after starting my new job, I stopped after work at a little bar in the village. Now I'm just 22, about 5'8" and 150 pounds soaking wet. I'm a bit skinny but a great smile. and just an average cock. I experimented with blow jobs and hand jobs in college, but nothing more. And at this bar, it was geared more for leather men, and 'real' men. So I went in, ordered a beer and kinda hid in the corner. A man walked up a bit later - He told me his name was Ryan. He was about 40, 6'2 and about 190 pounds. Clearly went to the gym and was nicely fit. As we chatted, I told him my story. I was still a virgin but couldn't wait to now do more that I was living on my own. He told me he was only a top, did that bother me? I said no, of course not. He was kind. Kept ordering me beers. A while later I was a bit buzzed and he suggested we go grab a bite to eat. So we left and just got pizza - no big deal and a few more beers. We ended up at his apartment and of course you know how this goes... but it's not really the story. We got naked and he let me blow him. My god - it was a huge 'man's' cock. Must have been 8 or 9 inches long, and thick! I could barely get more than the head and a few inches down my throat. I got naked and he fingered me to ecstasy until I was begging him please fuck me... but he said no. He said I was buzzed and let's just go to bed and snuggle. So we did. Naked, snuggled into him, I feel asleep. Saturday morning we talked for hours. I showered, we did a late breakfast, and he showed me a bunch of his favorite places in the city. That evening, after going back to his apartment and feeling around again, but no full on sex, he told me I had to go home. "Why?" I asked, almost pleadingly. "Well, I think I like you and I don't want to rush things. Let's just keep talking and get together again soon".... All week we texted back and forth. He kept asking if I wanted to be his boy. That he would make me happy. What would I do for him to make him happy? I of course was texting back that I couldn't wait to see him again and that I would do anything to make him happy. He said he still wanted to go a bit slow as I was a virgin, and he really wanted me to beg him to take my virginity... that would make him happy. I was so niave. That upcoming weekend - he arranged for us to meet up again. When I arrived back at the little bar I had first met him, I was surprised to see another guy about my age there. Looking back he was a lot like me. About 22, same height and weight. but quiet. head bowed. Ryan said "Hey boy, meet my nephew Mike. Mike is visiting this weekend so I thought I would take him around." I tried to talk to Mike, but he didn't have much to say. Over the course of a few beers that Ryan kept buying, I noticed that every now and then a guy from the bar would walk up to us, talk a bit with Ryan and say something I couldn't hear, and then the guy and Mike would leave to a back room. Mike would come back about a half hour later each time. This went on through out the night. When I asked Ryan whatt was going on, he just smiled and said "Mike is getting to know some of my friends better..." and smiled at me. '"you'll get to know them too". When I asked if we were going back to his place, he said "can't this weekend with Mike here...but let's go to the bathroom". In the bathroom, I was buzzed and horny. Ryan grabbed my crotch as soon as we were in the bathroom, then pulled me close "you said you would do anything to make me happy right boy?" "Yes sir" I responded. and I meant it. Ryan then grabbed my neck, and pushed me down to his crotch, unzipped his fly and pulled out his big cock -" take it boy. Put it in your mouth and make me smile boy." So there I was, on the floor in a bar bathroom, sucking Ryan's cock, hoping to drain every bit of cum from it... and Ryan kept his hand on the back of my head making sure I was going to get my guts filled with his seed. It didn't take too long with him face fucking me, until I could hear him breathing deeper and faster, telling me "take it boy, take it all boy don't waste a drop" . And suddenly I felt his cock erupt in my mouth and down my throat. After I swallowed it all, he pulled me up and whispered - "Good boy... I do like a good boy..... I have to go now and take Mike to another event I promised him to, but do you want to go camping with me next weekend? Just us? Binghamton NY is a fun all gay campground and I would love to take you there and get to know you better". And as I looked up into his eyes, and could still taste his cum in my mouth, I said "of course, that would be fun!" ...

When you are as girly, and faggoty, and queeny as I am, most of the men who fuck you pretty much think of me as a girl with a useless cock so they usually call my hole, a pussy, or a cunt or just a fuckhole/cumhole. they also often refer to me by female terms and names, like girl, babygirl, white girl, bitch, and ladyboy. some guys even tell me that my pussy is so loose and sloppy that it feels just like a real girls pussy when I’m loaded with cum

Was horny as usual and got a room at the Days Inn last night. Posted the hotel/room # and propped the door open. Ended up with 15 loads. One guy dropped 3 loads and another dropped 2 loads. Good night. That makes 504 loads this year.

Been a while since I had a really good shag so horned up and looked for something online …nothing doing ..lots of blokes chatting but no meets …ended up at the local sauna (cum Union night..nice) it was still early but there were a few guys playing …wondered round naked except for a towel over my shoulder …the smell of the place just made me horny so I was hard …when to see if the sling was free and found a little Twink getting hammered by a chub daddy …well hot ….I snogged the daddy and pulled on a nipple ring …watched his raw cock fuck the tight winks hole …daddy pumped a good load up the Twink and puled out …he snogged me again and said he’d catch me later …I asked the Twink if he was good for another load and he just nodded and pulled on some poppers …I slipped in to his loaded hole …fuck he felt great tight and slick and hot …I used the sling to swing him on to my cock …the daddies cum running out of him and down my balls…the cummy mess got me off and I loaded the lad …fuck he felt good thanked him and wondered off to the shower. It was busy now and I got a lot of attention from the mainly older crowd …as I got to the shower I was chatting to an old bloke (60s ?) he cupped my cummy balls and asked if I was going to wash it off …said I was and he got down and sucked my balls and cock …I was hard again…he had a wet finger up me as well …he stood and asked if id be up for getting fucked …yeah ….he had a nice cock out a 7 cut thick …hairy dad bod ..got to a seat area near the steam room …had me sit forward on the bench and knelt down between my legs pushing me back and raising my legs he kept saying how good I looked and asked how old I was told him 24 and he said he was 70 and pushed his cock in me …fucked me slowly with blokes walking past …loved it nice fuck got deep and ace kisser too…got quite a crowd …any how he started fucking me hard and was defo coming bout to cum …”dirty fuck ..I’m fucked breeding you!” He pulled out and a felt a lot running out of my hole …I was gasping he just thanked me and headed back towards the showers … The chub daddy from earlier had seen the action and was sat next to me snogged me again and fingered my cummy hole …”good to go again” I was like sure ….he had 2 fingers up me and was snogging me …then he was up in my face..cock tasted good and my face pressed into his pubes ..fucked my face then we snogged again ….as he got down between my legs I saw the biohazard tat on his hip …better lighting in here….got me proper hard …he lined up and was balls deep quickly …felt really hot …fucked me slow and a load of snogging…”going to cum mate” and I just pulled him deep ….loaded me ….snogged me and left. I showered …and went to get a drink

Was in town for a few days and had some fun. Tuesday i spend the day taking loads in my Michigan Ave. First up was this sexy 9.5 THICK black man. He was one of the best kissers every. We kissed and licked and then he rimmed my ass and then lubed me up and slid in. Thank god for poppers, felt like he was splitting me open. He fucked for a good 20 Min till he dumped a huge load in me. He kissed me and kept going. Another 20 min later he was pumping a second load in me. My hole was so sloppy and cummy. We laid there and made out while he fingered me and ate my pit till i jerked my load for him to swallow. Took an hour break and then next up was a married cub. We kissed a bit and then he pumped a load into me. He left and I got back on sniffies. There was a sexy Indian guy working across the street that wanted Ass up. I love that. Propped the door open and got in place. He walked in, I sucked him and then he fucked me for a few min and shot his load inside. He left and his HOT (and I mean HOT) muscle guy who was working at a retailer close by hit me up. I figured he was a fake. When he walked in I was shocked how hot he was. He got naked, had amazing arm, 6 pack and 8 thick. I sucked him a bit, rubbed him body and then he pushed me to the bed. He climbed on top of me and pushed in my hole. He pounded me hard, chocked me a bit (which was hot). Her fucked for about 15 min till blew his load inside me. He left and I looked around more. Up next was a repeat from Monday, sexy bI guy who bred me anonymous. Last up Was a cute Persian kid that said he didn’t want to fuck only oral. But we know how that goes. I was blowing him and he was fingering my cummy hole, he rolled over and shoved his 7 thick uncut cock in me. Felt amazing. He only lasted about 5 min but felt like A huge load. God how i love Chicago.

but how about this; are our assholes ruined? or did all of those daddies, random fucks, bathhouse breeders, fisting tops, whore fuckers, pig breeders, and the rest of the hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of anonymous strangers who treat us like worthless trash destroy our assholes so they could become the loose, sloppy, overused cunts we have. some men love using, fucking and breeding trashed holes like ours. the only way anyones asshole can become as loose and fucked out as our sloppy holes is to get used way too much and absolutely destroyed with as many large objects as possible. guys with really big cocks love how easy it is to shove their whole cock in me and just start fucking, even without lube. fisting tops dont wanna fuck around. they just wanna get the arm up my cunt. I couldn’t take a fat 10 inch cock, dry in an alleyway, without a drop of lube, or spit, if my pussy wasn’t, as he said "so fucking loose”. you should get a tramp stamp that says USED

Surely flexibility is needed and if some/most of your needs are being met then enjoy the sex? Yes there are the matter of red lines and compatibility when deciding if you want to start/proceed/end the session. I've hardly ever had ALL my needs met from one guy!

40 loads taken face to face + 464 loads anon with blindfold on = 504 loads so far this year.

If I'm hooking up through an app or cruising I want quick dirty sex, I'm not there for a romantic meal and a conversation. I wouldn't even know where to go looking for those things where I live, but thankfully it's not for me anyway.

Hope there is more

My earliest recollection of anything homo- centric was when I was 5 or 6. I grew up in a small rural town, the city nearby had a mall, and in the city core all the trappings of a real city, so if we needed new shoes or clothes for school, my Mom would haul my ass to the mall . I would ride in the back seat of the car, and in one particular area there was a stream that ran alongside the road. If I went back (and it even exists ) today, it was likely a ditch and the stream was just rain or melting snow draining away. But back then, almost without exception, I would look out as we drove past that water, and imagine myself naked,floating on my back with my dick stiff, and a boy or two riding on my stomach/chest, and using my cock as a steering device. And even tho I had no idea why, my 6 year old cock would be hard . By the time we would get to the mall or into the city, it was all over and out of my thoughts, until the drive back home. I am not going to lock in and say "that" was the moment I knew I was gay, honestly, I don't think early 60's gay/homosexuality was even talked about or acknowledged in those words. And not going to the prom in high school didn't lock it in for me- I would have been "obligated" to ask the girl across the road from my house to it (17 days apart in age) and at the time she was having sex with the high school band director, a lot!! I kept a big distance from her, or had either her parent or one of mine present if we were hanging out, I really was worried she would get knocked up and all eyes would fall on me. And I knew even then I did not want a woman nor a kid ( esp if it wasn't even mine) in my life path.

I have a regular, who is a straight man. I have never seen his face or any pics cause he doesn’t want anyone to know he even knows me cause he says I have “a reputation for being a cumdump and a hooker” plus he never lets me suck his cock and he refuses to fuck me cause I’m “way to dirty and way too many men have been inside that used hole”. he only uses me as a urinal. he literally calls me “Toilet” like it’s my given name, and has me get down on my knees so he can piss straight into my mouth without even touching his cock. once in awhile he will jerk off into my open mouth if he’s particularly horny but he has never let e touch his cock until a couple days ago when he texted me “todays your lucky day. I’m gonna let you suck my cock” and he sat back in a chair, watching straight porn, while I was down on my knees sucking the cum out of his balls. it reminded me exactly of sucking my fathers cock except I was blindfolded. he also kept telling me what a “disgusting faggot” I am for "sucking off thousands of strangers” and “getting fucked by any man dirty enough to breed that sloppy cunt” and even told me I should get my cock and balls removed cause I can “never be a man” because I get fucked, so I might as well not pretend to be male. he also said “you shouldn’t get tits either, just be some asexual cumdump"

As a very young kid, my well-to-do grandma would take me to the theatre/opera/ballet, most of which I didn't really appreciate enough at the time. One Christmas, Aged 7 or 8, she took me to see The Nutcracker which was a bit of a tradition and at intervial she asked me what I enjoyed most about it... and there was only one thing I really liked, so I told her. The big bulges at the front of the men's tights...

I ran into the husband of a friend of mine at the video store late one night. He just acknowledged me with eye contact and I followed him into a booth. He immediately pulled out his cock which was beautiful, I got on my knees and started sucking. He was quite big and it tasted great. After a while I stood up, undid my pants and bent over. He got his dick wet with spit and started to slide in me. Not sure if he noticed the load I received 10 minutes earlier. He fucked me for about 5 minutes until hi breathing got heavier, his dick started pulsing and he went balls deep filling with his sperm. He pulled out without saying anything, I turned around and cleaned his dick off before he zipped up and left. We never acknowledged we knew each other and never said anything. To him I was just an anon hole.

you could prob have this transferred to an iron on

The Glastonbury Swim Team 1. Drake’s Wet I was accepted on a swimming scholarship to a small, picturesque New England college. Any story that begins: I was accepted on a swimming scholarship to a small, picturesque New England college, you just know at some point is going to turn into some Stephen King, fifty shades of crazy, tale of terror. Well, this one’s no exception, just not in a Stephen King sort of way. Banana pajama pants crazy, yes, but not a horror story, well, whore story, yeah, that’d be about right. I’m Kyle Dupree. Hi. How are you? My stats, to start, because that’s what I had to fill out on my college application: nineteen (I was held back one year before they diagnosed me with ADHD because it’s hard for me to pay attention for any long stretches of time, but I’m not dumb, quite the opposite), five ten, one forty-five. “Beanpole,” Jacob calls me. Jacob’s one of the quicker wits in our trailer park. He’s dating my mom and he’s nice enough to her, so there’s that. Hair: brown, short, spikey. Eyes: yes, I have them. Okay, my mom says they’re the color of freshly cooked maple. What she means is that they’re amber brown with little specks of gold in the right light. Nationality: you want them all? Alright, application sez: Native American, Belgian, Polish, German, Dutch, English and French Canadian. In other words a garden variety New England mutt. I put them in that order since I thought I’d have a better chance at getting a scholarship. I was right. If you want to know the truth, though, I should’ve put them in the exact reverse order, because I’m mostly French Canadian, eh, but if it’s good enough for Elizabeth Warren (the Abenaki people in my case—and I am damn proud of that, one sixteenth proud) it’s good enough for me. For those of you taking notes for a guaranteed A+ History paper (and you should), the indigenous Abenaki people covered a huge swath of Vermont, New Hampshire and Maine and have been here for like twelve thousand years. The one tattoo I have is a dream catcher, that was before everyone and their lesbian sister got one. But mine was one of the first. I got it from Dash, who’s this old biker dude who lives in the second trailer from the park entrance, three down from our double-wide, at his kitchen table. I bartered for it, smoked some clouds with him, then let him diddle me on his couch before he picked up his tattoo gun and went at my ribcage in his kitchen. He’d been giving me blow jobs since I can’t remember, but this once I let him finger my hole while he sucked my dick, which the way he did it felt weird—like in, out, in, out, real fast—but still kinda felt good, but I’d rather it wasn’t Dash, but I let him do me anyway like that till I spurted in his craggily-face mouth of his. Other stats that weren’t on my application—because if you’re any kind of perv like me you’d want to know: seven and a half inches, uncut, smooth but with dark hairy legs, swimmer’s build (obviously) and short black pubes that I clip, dark wispy pits, and a little bit of dark peach fuzz on my tailbone that eases down the road between two perfectly shaped round, white boulders. See, I knew you’d want to know. So anyway, like I was saying, Dash got up to his second knuckle of his middle finger in my butthole. I acted like that was crazy deep, but I’d taken big cucumbers way deeper than that since dinosaurs roamed, I just didn’t tell him. Or anyone else, like when mom, Jacob and I were eating our dinner salad with a freshly sliced aforementioned cucumber. Washed, of course. My mom’s a nurse at the county hospital so there were a lot of anatomy books around the house when I was growing up, and I was a curious kid. I was fascinated by the human body, mine and others. Most of the kids in Cozy Meadows, our little trailer park in the sticks, weren’t allowed to play with me after a certain age because I not only played doctor with them, I played specialist: urologist, gynecologist, proctologist, you name it, I became an expert in the field. I didn’t really care that I was shunned in Cozy Meadows. I’d seen what I wanted to see, felt what I wanted to touch. I moved on. Cozy Meadows was close to this lake and for most of the year I’d swim endlessly, taking Waldo, our family’s chocolate lab, with me. He and I would swim across the lake to the side where all these older men used to hang out, sunning naked on a pebbly beach. Waldo was both a good way to break the ice with these old guys—never was any younger guys my age—and at the same time, if I didn’t want to talk to one of them, Waldo kinda sense it and would give a low grumble, and they’d high tailed it. So anyway, I got to know a fair number of these men, and them me. I was technically a virgin when I left home, technically—I liked getting my dick sucked and I didn’t mind returning the favor, but I didn’t like anyone touching my butthole. That was my domain. Dash was probably the only human that had gotten finger deep. Cucumbers and zucchinis fared much better. The school where I got my swimming scholarship was about two hours away from us. Jacob, who lived at the end of the cul-de-sac but was always at our house, drove me in his old rusty red Ford pickup, Waldo in the back with my one suitcase, and my mom scrunched between me and the gear shift. It’s a hot day as we drive down out of the mountains to the flatlands; the temperature rises another ten degrees by the time we hit the college town. Mom’s trying not to cry. Close to the school we pass a circus setting up in a grocery store parking lot. “Look, honey,” she says to me, “a carnival,” but she loses it when we pass through the school gates, and her misty-eyes turn to real silent tears. I get out of the truck in front of my dorm and grab my suitcase. Waldo tries to get out of the truck but I push him back behind the tailgate. He just looks at me and doesn’t know why he can’t go with me. I give him a big hug, my mom, too, and shake Jacob’s hand but, at the last minute, he pulls me in and gives me a big ol’ Jacob bear hug. And then they drive off, exhaust spewing black smoke out the tailpipe, Waldo shouting out barks from the back of the rusty Ford. My forehead’s sweating from the late summer day, and I look up at Hannaford Hall, this six-story, ugly beige cinderblock monstrosity, and spot the top floor where I’ll be living for the next school year. I almost didn’t get in at the start of the school year because I’m a fuckup when it comes to paperwork and deadlines, and rules in general. I was supposed to get some meningitis shot but I forgot, but my mom pulled strings at work and got me a shot the week school started. I got the form filled but I missed all that first days orientation shit. ‘Plunge into the deep end and see if you come up’ has always been my way. I was already in trouble with the coach because the swim team warmups started a week before school did. Anyway, I’m used to being a fuck up and feel like I’m always in trouble anyway, so what the fuck. They weren’t going to take away the scholarship from me. The only sticking point was that I had to try out for a slot on the water polo team. Swim season was in the spring, water polo in the fall. I didn’t know from fuck what water polo was. Sound ritzy, Jacob said at dinner while I was looking over my financial papers, doubt it’s a game for folks like us. Anyway, across the street there’s a nicer dorm. Hannaford Hall looks like some backwoods bunker hospital but Avery Beckwith Hall looks like something that exploded out of an architect’s brain. All angles of metal and glass, overhanging study rooms, electric sliding glass doors. Everyone there, I read in the school’s brochure, lives in five bedroom suites, but it was for the richer kids. Lot of them had their own room. Then there were the townhouses down the road at the school’s gates, but they were for upper classmen. Some of them housed twenty-one year-olds so they could legally have alcohol, but what did I care, I had a jar of gen-u-ine Micky-G’s moonshine in an old glass jar that Micky-G had given me himself as a going-away-to-college present; and some mighty pure crystal from Dash, the biker-tattoo artist, my finger-pumping mentor; and homegrown weed from Jasper, who was Jacob’s younger brother that lived in the backwoods in an honest-to-god teepee and farmed the best pot around, well, good for Vermont I guess. His farm was patrolled by these fuckin’ huge-ass geese who were nasty motherfuckers if they didn’t know you. Even if they did know you, you always had to keep your eye on where they were. Both Waldo and I more than once had them sneak up on us. Getting goosed by a goose is not my idea of fun. Anyway, he gave me a nice supply of his best buds. And then while I was packing, Jacob slipped me a carton of reds, which was very cool of him, ‘cause I know he’d catch grief if my mom found out. I told you she was a nurse. And me on a swimming scholarship. But that’s Cozy Meadows in a nutshell. We don’t think too much about the future. We concentrate on the pleasures of the now. So I walk in the entrance, push aside these heavy-ass metal glass doors, and inside it’s really air-conditioned cool. There’s this guy with a name tag that says Raf, a good-looking dark-skinned guy, who checks out my paperwork, sees I’m on a swim scholarship like him. He gives me a swipe card for the door, a crooked smile, and tells me I’m on the top floor with a guy name Drake Chadwick. We get to talking and I find out Raf’s the goalkeeper on the water polo team and a R.A., which means resident assistant, meaning free board and room. He’s like a concierge, he says. I tell him I have no fuckin’ clue to what that is. He says if I want something just ask. Cool. He’s a junior, polysci major. I tell him I’m a freshman, majoring in English I think. He says most of the swim team are sophomores, and live across at Avery Beckwith Hall. A couple juniors and seniors live together in one of the townhouses. He says he’ll introduce me to some of the team at dinner. Raf has a funny way of talking, like English is his second language or something. Well, it’s time for me to go up and meet ol’ Drake Chadwick. Raf and I shake hands, and I go up in the elevator. But I got to tell you, I get kinda nervous in elevators. I’m not used to them, see. You’re in this tiny cage and that kind of freaks me out. So my hearts beating, and six dings later I’m on my floor. The hallway’s hot and stuffy. I’m holding my swipe card in my sweaty palm walking down the hall looking for 6G. It’s at the end of the hall and I put in my card and it clicks and I push open the door, and there’s Mr. Drake Chadwick on his bed, holding a Maxim in one hand and jacking his big banana cock in the other. Just as I come in he’s spitting a huge load of dick juice all over his magazine and himself. He tries to stifle a fuck! then flails around with his jeans down around his ankles trying to get them up, struggling to not look like a spaz, but I’m sorry, it’s funny, and I start laughing hysterically. He has this totally embarrassed, humiliated look on his face, sees it’s hopeless to remedy the situation, and rolls over to his side hiding his face against the cinderblock wall and kinda starts groaning, pained, but chuckling. I close the door so no one else sees this, and I stand there admiring his perfect, white bubble butt that’s on its side jiggling in an embarrassed snigger. A nice light brown fuzz of butt hair outlines these two muscly white, perfect cannonballs. He can’t look over at me yet. He’s just staying there, tucked to the wall. He reaches up and takes his pillow and pulls it over his head. I find that I am suddenly in love with good ol’ Drake Chadwick. I want to go over and either kiss that big round ass of his or smack it. Maybe I’ll do both. All I know is I want it, wanna stick my tongue in letting it butterfly between his fuzzy crack, but I feel introductions are necessary first. “I’m Kyle,” I tell him, “and you must be Drake. My friend Jacob says you never get a second chance to make a first impression. And I gotta say, dude,” I tell him while I’m setting my suitcase on the empty bed, “you have made one hell of a first impression. Can’t think how to top it.” He finally flips over giving me another sight of his big wanger and low hangers, struggling to get his underwear over his still hard cock and Donkey Kong balls, carefully zipping up his fly so he doesn’t catch himself. Man, the bulge is still showing through his khaki shorts, I see. That eggplant ain’t going nowhere anytime soon. He sits up in bed, pulls down his black Mario Brothers t-shirt over his chest, which was pulled up while he was whacking. Sitting on the bed’s edge, I realize what a beefcake ol’ Drake Chadwick is. He’s this very pretty, very big boy, six foot something hunched on his bed, big feet wiggling in flip-flops, innocent looking face, wide lips breaking into a shy smile, a mop of golden brown hair, with large fluffy brows arching up asking for forgiveness or at least understanding. Come to the wrong place, bub. He’s got this cuddly teddy bear face that should have little black buttons for eyes but instead are dark chocolate brown, and cheeks that are all ruddy red like he’s been crying or just ran a marathon. I go over to extend my hand and he extends his. He doesn’t see it yet, but there’s a jiggling pool of cum slopped on the crook between his thumb and forefinger. I grab his fist and tightly embrace it. I bring that crook up to my mouth, angling it so he sees his wad’s just about to drip off the side. I stick out my tongue, let the spooge fall in, and audibly slurp it up. Two can play at first impressions. *** Drake tells me on the way to the cafeteria that he’s a second year. He worked all summer but didn’t have the bucks to afford Avery Beckwith with the other guys. Besides, he says, he’s found of cinderblock. I meet most of team already sitting around the table in the cafeteria as Drake and I bring our food trays over. Raf’s there eating a heaping of vegetables and rice, while everyone else is either scarfing down Sloppy Joes or cheeseburgers. Drake makes introductions around the table as we settle in: Kenworth Paxton (head nod), Marlon Reznor (head nod), Tommy Durkheim—“hi,” he squeaks—Trent van der Haus—“just House,” House says, reaching over the table to shake—and Steve Reynold. Steve Reynolds looks up from his phone for a nanosecond and then goes back down. I say, hey, to the table. I’ve already forgotten their names. “So, Dupree, you-you-you trying out for water polo to-to-to-tomorrow?” Paxton stutters horribly next to me. He’s blondish, my size, wide shoulders, prominent chin, and has three deep nasty looking scars on his left cheek. He blinks his eyes forcefully to get out a whole sentence. “Yeah,” I tell him. “Don’t know if water polo is my game, but I’m a fast swimmer.” Then this Marlon Reznor guy, who has a scruffy little chin beard, says with a heavy southern drawl that’s so thick it’s almost comical, “What’s y’alls event?” Reznor’s a little shorter than me, bulkier, and like Paxton, has sandy blond hair. In fact, everyone at the table except for Raf and Drake is somewhere on the blond spectrum. Aside from Raf, I’m by far the darkest at the table, then Drake, and then you could easily confuse Paxton, Reznor, Durkheim, House, and Reynolds as all being the same guy: all blondish hair, broad shoulders, high cheekbones, straight pearly teeth, tan, and privileged. Raf hasn’t said a word. He just sits quietly eating his veggies, studying all the blonds, quizzically. Looks at me that way, too. I can’t tell if he’s like Middle Eastern or Black; could be both. He’s got extremely buzzed black hair, big brown eyes, a broad nose with flaring nostrils, and thick dark lips that occasionally flash an absurdist’s smile when he thinks no one is looking. He’s around the same size as everyone around the table but has huge hands, whose fingers reach out and twirl the straw in his ice tea. “Dunno what my event is. Coach’ll have to tell me.” I chow down on my first burger. “No pool where I come from. School was a one room deal and that was it,” I say chewing at Reznor. He and Paxton look at me kinda pitifully, which pisses me off, but I just grin, gnawing some curly fries on my molars. “Hey, it was great. I had the same teacher, Mrs. Duckworth, from kindergarten to twelfth grade.” My teacher’s name makes the guys laugh, but it doesn’t faze me. “There was a lake I swam in, but we also had this quarry where this stoner guy, Jasper, taught me diving from off the cliffs.” I gobble down a few more curly fries. “First time I tried out for anything was here at this college. My mom’s boyfriend pushed me and I said why not. Coach said I was a natural but needed a lot of training. But what do I know?” I say and finish my first of three burger. I see Steve Reynolds, who’s in shorts and wearing a Glastonbury College sweatshirt, its hoodie pulled over his head, text something in his phone, and then a second later Reznor’s reading something on his. Reznor types something back. They both exchange a sly grin. Jerks. Suddenly there’s two large hand clasping my shoulders, giving them a tight squeeze. “How you men getting along?” Speaking of coach, Coach Brandon had snuck up behind me, the one who said I was a natural, and was kneading my taut shoulders muscles, quizzing the table. “These knuckleheads giving you a hard time?’ They all snicker. “Nah,” I say back over my shoulder, picking up a couple of fries and scarfing them down. “Just the usual poking and seeing what’s under my skirt.” I gotta tell you, I’m trying to act as casual as I can, but coach rubbing my shoulders like this is giving my pecker a little stir, especially when I look up in his face. He looks around forty, has on a tight fitting blue sweater, hugging these enormous pecs and massive shoulders. The sweater’s color sets off his fluorescent blue eyes. He’s bigger and fitter than any of these bozos, still has a slim waist, salt and pepper hair, big blue eyes—I guess I said that—he could like be the dad of any of these guys. Well, I guess not Raf. Well, on second thought, seeing as how they both share this same lopsided smile, maybe they could be related. Raf brightens when he sees coach. “Kyle was schooled in a one-room schoolhouse, just like I was," Raf informs coach. I look at Raf surprised. “Yeah?” I say. “Where?” “Botswana.” I’m taken aback. I’ve never met anyone from another country, and I have no idea where Botswana is. “A little game reserve on the Kalahari Desert,” he says. “An area called Deception Valley.” “Deception Valley, eh? No shit? I love it,” I say sipping my diet coke. Coach is still hanging onto my shoulders. If he doesn’t stop massaging me soon I’m not responsible for the stiffy percolating in my jeans. “Hey, Rafiki,” Reznor says, “y’all went to a little red schoolhouse like Dupree?” The others giggle. I interject, “Well, mine was actually a little brown schoolhouse.” “Mine was a brown grass hut,” Raf retorts. We exchange conspirator’s smiles. “A game reserve. For real, Raf?” Drake says. “I knew about Botswana, but I didn’t know about the game reserve.” “Yes. I grew up with families of giraffes, and cheetahs, prides of lions,” says Raf. He looks pointedly at Reznor. “Jackals.” The guys all laugh. Reznor puts on a sarcastic sneer. “Hyenas, too, I bet.” He looks at the guys who were laughing and are now back chewing their burgers. “Play nice, men,” Coach Brandon scolds. “Listen: I want you to hit the sack early tonight. Seven a.m. tryouts tomorrow and I want you all locked and loaded when you arrive. Got it?” He looks around the table meaningfully. “Locked and loaded.” All the guys look down guilty-like for no reason I can make out. They all nod sheepishly. I glance up at coach who gives me a wink, and he’s off. Swear to God, he packs a lot in one wink. I sip to the bottom of my soda until it makes a loud empty gurgle. I ask the guys, “So what’s he mean by ‘locked and loaded’?” There’s a long pause, until Tommy Durkheim, the youngest of the group, peeps, “We all have to wear these…” “If you make the cut,” interrupts Trent van der Haus, taunting in his rich baritone, “you’ll find out soon enough. But you got to make the cut first, Dupree.” He’s the blondest on the table’s spectrum. His green eyes sparkle like a cat’s. The guys all look at each other covertly. “O-kay,” I say nonplussed, curious but not willing to show it. I look to Drake and Raj for their input, but they’ve clammed up too. “I’m getting another diet soda. Anyone else want a refill.” There’s a cloud over the table now. “O-kay then, just one diet coke.” I get up. Tommy breaks the silence. “Diet cokes makes you gay,” he says looking up quickly at me, then back down at the table. I guess I’m looking at him quizzically, because he adds quickly, “That’s what Reznor says.” Renzor rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say diet coke makes you gay, dick-wipe. I said it makes y’all look gay.” “Hmm,” I say considering the statement while I scan the table nodding my head. Tommy’s studying something interesting in the catsup on his plate. Renzor looking at me challengingly. Paxton and van der Haus are looking at me expectantly. Steve Reynolds head’s down under his hoodie, texting away. Raf’s sitting back stirring his tea with his straw. Drake is caught mid-chew, and has one eyebrow raised at me. “’Funny,” I finally say, “‘cause I was gay a long time before I drank my first diet coke.” Steve Reynolds stops texting and looks up. I leave the silent table behind for the soda machine. When I get back everyone’s gone. I’m not too surprised. I slurp on my soda playing with a second plate of fries. I scan the almost-empty cafeteria. There’s some overweight girls with multi-colored hair in one of the booths, each one quietly texting on their phones. A few tables away, two nerdy guys in matching black-rimmed glasses stare and occasionally type into their laptops. The older lady cafeteria workers in hairnets and white smocks are clearing salt and pepper shakers, refilling napkin dispensers, and wiping down tables. Some of the lights around the serving trays are being switched off. It’s quiet except for the steely stream of cold air coming out of the AC vents, and an occasional “oh my god” coming from the booth of multi-colored hair girls. I take out my flip phone, the one my mom gave me today as a present. I bring up the only number I have stored besides hers and Jacob’s. u there? I type. I get back, yes. I think about Jasper, the goose guy. I think about his weed in my suitcase. 420? I type. There’s a pause, then yes pops on the screen along with a smiley face. I’m a little sad, this being my first night not living at home anymore. Knowing Waldo won’t be sleeping on my bed. A little scared, too, if you want to know the goddamn truth. But the biggest thing, more than anything else I’m feeling? I’m very, very horney. I type in: can i suck ur dick? There’s a really long pause. I’m waiting, finishing my drink. One of the nerds at the other table closes his laptop and reaches across the table for the other nerd’s hand. They clasp hands as an old red-headed cafeteria lady reaches over them and grabs their napkin dispenser. Finally Drake Chadwick, the third number in my contact list, texts me back: f i cn suck u2. *** Micky-G’s moonshine in a canning jar sits between me and Drake out on the lawn behind the library half finished. When I got back up to the dorm it was way too hot to stay in the un-air-conditioned room. The fan did nothing but blow around hot humid air. Avery Beckwith Hall has AC, as do the townhouses, but not good ol’ Hanniford Hall. So I take my reefer, my pipe, Mickey-G’s canning jar, and my roommate, and we traipse down behind the library. It’s dark and the entire night sky is spread out above us. It’s cloudless and there’s no moon, so we have billions of blinking lights outlining our dark shapes. I warn Drake that you don’t need much of Micky-G’s to get a buzz going. And you’ll definitely hurl if you drink too much. And here, take a hit of Jasper’s herb. You get a good balance between the two of them. I don’t think Drake is that familiar with either weed or hooch ‘cause he’s only taking small hits, imbibing on both minimally, and looks, in the dim light, pretty unstable. Me, too, but it’s not my first rodeo, muchacho—hooch, herb, or hombre. Drake falls back taking in the sky and pointing at small shooting stars along the horizon, wordless. I see them too, but it’s him I’m admiring. The enhancements help, but right now, looking at his silhouette, his long nose, the rise and fall of his chest, his sharp chin jutting into the shadowy outline of the Juniper bush, he’s the enhancement I want. I’m horney and happy and nicely roasted. I lean over and kiss him. He’s startled but not unwilling. He’s melting into the grass with me leaning over his face. I sense he’s never had another man kiss him before and, curiously, he draws his finger over the stubble of my nine o’clock shadow. For such a big hunk, his face is soft, smooth, his lips downy. I pass my tongue through his lips and he’s awash in a dreamy, smoldering passion. He’s warm and responsive to everything I’m doing to him. I reach up under his black t-shirt and feel his strong, smooth chest, his racing heart, stroke through the damp hair under his pits. I smell him. He’s between the musk of a freshly run mile and freshly laundered clothes. He’s the good son still, I can tell, but with every kiss, parts of his younger, innocent self wash away. I undo his shorts and slide them down to his knees, then pull down his checkered boxers. He tells me the grass is cold. Only for a minute, I say, and go down on his very hard cock. I can tell I could get him off in a few seconds if I really went at him, but I want it to last and just trace my tongue along his shaft, licking, outlining, every now and then wrapping my lips around his knob, pulling down his foreskin, swirling over his head, tasting bits of smegma buried deep in the bottom of his ridges. I have a white flake on my tongue and kiss him with it. If he wasn’t high he might have been revolted, but like me, in our ardor, it’s something that turns us both on. He’s into it and is clamoring to get into my jeans. I let him. All he has to do is unsnap a few buttons and he’s in. I’m good and stoned, and, yeah, the grass is cold, dewy, and the individual blades of grass astonish my tickled crack, but not more than the feeling of Drake’s hand running over my erection. This boy is good and goes straight in for the killshot, almost making me cum the first time he goes full-Nelson on my pecker. He peels the skin down my shaft, exposing my head. I have a lot more foreskin than he does, and he’s much cleaner than I. I’m trash and I know it and I revel in it. But I’ve a mom that’s a nurse and she’s reined me in. Mostly. His first taste of dick cheese, if I’d had my way, would have packed a lot more punch, but since he’s this great big one-eighty pound virgin, I guess he’s better off with just a hint of rankness. Anyway, we slip into a sixty-nine and he’s dripping and oozing like he needs a plumber and I’m there to lap it up. I’m sure I’m leaking too. He just taste so fucking good, the hooch and the pot say so anyway. I can’t get enough of his big bent dick and he’s acting on the same impulses. First he climbs over me, his giant rod angling over my face. My neck’s pulled back to look up at it, in a perfect position to thrust it deep down my throat. Between his legs, his furry balls dangling, I see the heavens and shooting stars as he slides his shaft into my mouth. Over time I’ve gotten good at deep throating. Practice from cucumbers, bananas, and countless men at the lake. He’s a challenge being so big, but with big challenges come even bigger pleasures. That big cock slides down my throat and ends with his dark pubes stuck up against my nostrils. He smells and tastes of soap, but the longer I spend nursing his huge cock, it starts to meld into that special scent and taste of a man. His acrid crack slowly pushes and grinds its way towards me. I don’t think he knows he’s doing it but his ass crack is coming into shadowy view. His dick pops out of my throat and before he or I even realize it, my tongue is buried between his two smooth white cheeks. I reach my hands up and feel the flexing of his muscled ass. I squeeze them and sense the conflict between what he wants and what he’s afraid to ask for. I pull his cheeks apart and settle that conflict with my tongue, riding deep into the valley to find his hole. He lets out an audible gasp as my mouth covers the entrance to the Drake I want to get to know. I dart my tongue inside and he lets out a fuck into the night air, in the dark, behind the library. We’re shadows writhing in shadows, him riding my face. There’s only the slightest of movements, we’re dark statues frozen on the lawn, the only unseen movement is my tongue tracing a spiral inside his ass, then jabbing into his hole. He emits a quiet moan of gratitude. His hole’s loosening. I feel his sphincter pushing out, wanting me to penetrate him deeper. I happily comply while I reach up his shirt, play with his pin-point nipples. He starts grinding his ass over my face, getting the scruff of my cheeks to burn against his rutting ass. There is no resistance in him, he wants me to go deeper. I wiggle a finger next to my mouth and let the saliva provide the necessary lubrication for my digit to slide in. Into the warm night air, in the shadow of the library lawn, he emits another amazed fuck, and pushes down on my finger so I penetrate him deeper, now up to my second knuckle. He’s still grinding down, but rather than pushing further into to him, I withdrawal a bit and wet my middle finger and let it join the first. Oh fuck, he cries softly, knees on the grass, realizing what it feels like to have two fingers invading him, and before he’s settled comfortably into it, I wet a third and slip it in. “Fuck man,” he says quietly, now aggressively pushing his butt down on my hand. “I’m going to cum,” he pants helplessly as his bucks on my fingers. “Like hell you are,” I say pulling out. “You fucker,” he says, his teeth shining from the light of the library windows. “You fuck,” he says. “Turn on your side.” “Why?” I say, but know where he’s headed. He pulls a small tube of hand cream out of his shorts and dangles it in front of me with a devilish smile. “You thought that far ahead?” I say. “Sneaky, sneaky, honey badger. Was that going to be for me or for you?” “Didn’t know, but I do now. Turn on your side,” he says sure of himself. I toe off my sneakers and slip off my jeans. We’re outside in the shadows, footpaths, flowerbeds, brick staircases, alone, quiet, lit by a billion stars, cloaked by night. I pull off my shirt. His Mario Brothers shirt and khaki shorts come off. His checkered underwear lies over them. We’re naked next to shrubs, dirt, the smell of freshly mowed grass, moist. I roll on top of him. Our hard cocks press into each other’s belly, his dark and my darker pubes intertwine, the dew of the lawn make us slick and slippery. I have one leg between his, and he has one leg between mine. Neither one of us has relinquished who, for the moment, will bottom and who will top. We’re dancing, we’re jockeying for position, we’re enjoying the chase, the pursuit, the open question. Our hands at first clutch tenderly as I bend to kiss him. Then I feel his palms clutching tighter. Then we’re wrestling for control. He’s pushing up as I’m holding him down. He’s bigger but I’m quicker. I flip him and have him pinned so his face is pushed into the grass, but I feel him powering up like a hydraulic lift, slow pushing me back. His face comes out of the grass and he’s wearing a conqueror’s smile. “You can fuck me afterward but I’m going to fuck you this second,” he says, throwing me onto my back, lifting my legs apart. He smears some cream on his dick and sticks his hand under my butt. I feel his fingers run over my hole, then push inside. Like I said, I’m pretty much a virgin with man meat but not unfamiliar with penetration. But there’s a universe of difference between me playing with my hole and someone else doing it. Especially if that someone else is as hot and aggressive as this fucker. He pushes my legs forward and lines up his thick member against my hole, and slowly pushes in. The whites of his eyes shine as does his shimmering wet body. He’s a merman from the sea and he’s diving inside me, burying his thick veined shaft, his foreskin pushing back revealing his velvety knob pushing deeper than even the most daring vegetable has ever gone. How can it hurt and feel so good at the same time? Fuck, yeah, I encourage him. Do it, I whisper in his ear. And he’s in up to his bone. I feel his pubes grinding against my hole, his solid rod spreading the width of my chute apart like its never been spread. I’m trying like mad to get used to his size but he’s frenzied and nineteen and in heat. He doesn’t care about anything but what he wants, and that would be cumming inside me as quickly as he can. I stroke myself and could easily get off this very second. I feel the burn building inside my balls. He’s pounding against them, abusing them with each thrust of his pelvis. Fuck, the thrust and pressure themselves could bust my nut any second I chose to let it, and I’m torn, but Drake decides for me, and holds my legs apart, shudders, breaths strained rushes of air through clenched teeth, and I know he’s cumming inside me deep. I want to cum, too, but I want it to be inside him when I do, so I hold back. It’s an ecstatic moment feeling him rutting inside me, spewing his first load in me, while I wait, watching him return to behind his eyes. His eyes are alive in a new way. Knowing something I don’t yet know. I’m jealous of the fuck. He rolls off me, looking up at the night, smiling. He lies next to me and grabs my hand and brings it up to his mouth, licks it. Doesn’t kiss it, but licks it. That makes me laugh. I comment, “So, we’re batting two for oh, boy-o, aren’t we?” “What’d you mean, boy?” He comes back and leans over my face. He licks my lips. He’s on top of me again, his dick’s still hard. “You gotta cum whenever you can, boy-o.” “Says my wanker roommate,” I say and knock him off me. Both our dicks are hard, standing off our bellies as we lie on our backs squeezing hands. There’s a fireball in the sky, not a small specks of light, but something that lights up our faces. I see his eyes shine. He’s enraptured, blissful. I’m jealous and want his lube. He sees how much lust is in me, scrunches his face uncertain, and grabs for his clothes. “I don’t fucking think so. Turn on your side, boy,” I order. “I don’t know, Dupree,” he says sitting up holding his checkered brief. “I do, Chadwick. Where that tube?” He hands it to me tentatively. “I never…” he begins. “I know. Me neither,” I say back at him. “You'll like it. I'll make sure you do. I’ll go slow. Hell, before, you were ready to have me to fist you.” “What’d’ya mean?” he asks as I lube my cock, shaking my head. I reach between his butt cheeks, those beautiful white boulders I’d first seen this afternoon and have been thinking about ever since. My lubed finger pushes at his hole. Boy is he tight, tighter than when I was fingering him moments ago. He’s purposefully clenching, not wanting me to go any further. “Ow,” he says quietly. “I don’t think I can, Kyle.” “You’re not the only boy scout that comes prepared,” I say rifling through my jean pocket. I pull out my bag of T, lick my un-lubed finger and then a second, and stick them in the bag. I pull out white fingers and rub them on his tight hole. “What is it?” he asks, as it goes inside his chute. He’s lubed enough to take my fingers up to my second knuckle. I rub them all around the wall of his wet rectum. He takes a grimaced inhalation. “It burns, man,” he complains. “Just for a second,” I say. I don’t take my fingers out, but leave them in him. After a few seconds I start wiggling the pair around. Then there’s the first moan I’ve been waiting for. His hole seems to not only be loosening up but wanting more stimulation. Another inhalation through his clenched teeth. My fingers inside are conflicting him. He squeezes. My fingers being squeezed is not of rejection but enticement. He doesn’t yet know it, but he wants more. His brain will catch up to his body, but even before it does I lube a third finger and slip it in, then a fourth. He gasps as he thrusts his hips back to take more of my fingers. I’m more than willing to give it to him. On his side, he pushes up on his elbow while he thrust back his ass and starts rocking gently. I go with his rhythm and let him pump himself on my hand until it’s buried up to the crook of my thumb. “Fuck, man,” he whispers. “Fuck that’s good.” “Yeah?” I ask him. “More?” He answers by pushing harder onto my hand. I lube my thumb and the thickest part of my hand. The thumbnail slides it. He’s pushing on me, hungrily, greedily. My thumb knuckle is buried and still he’s rocking, trying to take in more. He’s hissing on the lawn through clenched teeth, writhing, fingers digging into the turf, wanting something he doesn’t have a name for. “Ah-ahh!” he hollers loudly, and I look around to see if anyone hears us. I then realize he’s swallowed my whole hand. “Wait, wait, wait, wait,” he cries, gulping air like a drowning man, his head drooped over. I can’t believe it either. Neither of us can. But it’s done. I don’t move. I wait. We’re like that for some time, unmoving, sweating into the wet grass. I’m hard as a steel beam. He drops to his side, hissing again through his teeth, the slightest of moans germinated from deep inside his chest. He gently moves his hips. Stops. Tests the water. Pushes back a little. Stops. I let him control what we do, but my dick is getting impatient. It’s jealous of the attention my hand’s been given. I lube my shaft. Stroke it slowly. Try to appease it. But it know what it wants, and where it’s going. I slide up behind Drake, let my knob rest between my wrist and the top of his ass. My cock traces down my wrist finding my palm held open at the entrance of Drake’s body. Drake knows what’s what, and begins a torturous journey against my pelvis. He can’t help himself. He’s drawn to the thought of it like I am. He pushes back as I arch forward, the knob of my cock crawling down my palm into his out-stretched hole. He’s drenched, sweat pours down his back, off his butt, dripping on my arm; his body burning on the lawn. I fear any moment he’ll spontaneously combust, become nothing but ashes. His desire is burning as hot as mine, he’s as determined. I push forward and he pushes back, in small minuscule movements. Then, with a pop and a gasp from both of us, suddenly, like falling through an hourglass, I’m inside his ass, his hot lava ass. He cries out even louder, his fuck is deeper, more lustful, craven. He’s molten inside. His fire surrounds my hand, my groin is a wick ignited. His body makes me insane. My fist and cock move around inside this crushing volcano, my cock clenched tightly inside my fist. No anatomy book prepares you. The body is a body, wet, liquid, flesh, a hundred degrees Fahrenheit, pliable, strong, vulnerable, unimaginable; the mind is only one small occupants of the body. I know what we’ve done, what we’re doing. But it’s not knowing, it’s feeling that composes the body. He feels so fucking good, what I’m doing to him is a violation against his surrender. That makes me even harder. He growling next to me like a mongrel clinging to a bone, my fist, my cock. I lick the sweat off his spine. My free hand reaches across his slick torso, and I grab his steely cock. I fuck him from behind, jacking myself off in him and jacking him at the same time. We’ve found a rhythm we can sustain, not for long but forcefully. I’m breathing through clenched teeth. Wanting to hurt him, wanting to bring him pain and with it, massive, fierce, masculine satisfaction that only males can satisfy in other males. Fuck, he cries with my fist violently ramming up his shithole. We find a plateau of ferocity, a place where I could abuse him indefinitely, and he knows it, I know he knows it, except I’m feeling his dick leak, then spurt, then gush, then his ass squeezes my fist internally. The dominos of orgasm are falling mightily. His seized ass is pulling the cum straight out of me. I have no choice but to shoot, a steady stream of cum liquefies his perfect hole. I quake for a moment at the precipice, appreciate his beauty and his submission, then fall endlessly, rush after rush of pleasure, filling him with me. “Stop. Wait,” he gasps, trembling, after only seconds have passed. “Please don’t move,” he begs as I still feel a stream of semen flow into his bowels. I squeeze my fist to push out a few more drops, a last shudder, and then relax my hand. “I’m not moving,” I say, and it’s true. I’m locked within him. Only he can release me. He’s shaking and I pull him in tightly with my free arm. I stroke his heaving chest. Is he cringing? I can’t tell but his body quivers. I feel his guts rumble and tense, and he shits out my cock and hand savagely with a harsh grunt of exhalation. “Fuck!” I yowl at the intensity of the sensation of having my cock and first aborted all at once. He rolls over on his stomach, buries his face in the grass, his dark hair matted to his scalp. He’s a beautiful mess and I want to hold him. I slip an arm over his broad shoulders but he throws it off, hiding his face in the shadowy blades. I’m stung by his turnaround but I’ll wait for him as long as he wants. I won’t get dress. I’ll wait with him till daylight when the safety officers discovers our naked bodies on the library’s back lawn. I pick up the Mason jar half full of Micky-G’s moonshine, twist open the top and take several unwise swigs. I screw the lid tight and lay back, looking up at the inky sky; watch for a long, long time as meteors and satellites glide across the firmament above us. I lay the back of my hand on the small of his back. He rocks it off. I rise on an elbow. I want him to look at me, to show him I’ll lick his slimy guts off my hand, I have no pride, I’d be his mutt if he'll be mine—but his face remains buried. I lie back and find the rings around nearby Saturn, tick off the moons of Jupiter—Ganymede, Io, Callisto, Europa, Themisto, Amalthea, Elara. I stare into the black holes where the stars aren’t anymore. Observe galaxies whirl, whole universes dance through each other, disburse in a prism of gas. I see far off stars hurtling toward me at a million light-years a second, while others swim into the black emptiness toward oblivion, never to be heard from again. Like people do. “Drake?” I ask a bit panicked at how quickly I'm alone in the universe. “You there?” The vacuum of space swallows the question. u there drake? He’s a digital ghost, a celestial body untethered. I can’t reach him though he’s inches away. I don’t know how to chart this course; I’ve never traveled here before. Did I do something wrong? Do something right? The longer I stare the more I see the stars aren’t white; have never been. Some glow red, some yellow, others are a ghostly blue. I feel the earth rotating under me, the lawn taking me along for the ride. The constellations wheel across the black vault above. Their stories elbow into my brain—the hunter, the serpent, the bears, the belt, the lion, I know them all, just like at home on our trailer’s roof. Same stories, same stars; stories spread down through millennia, through a trillions souls, eventually to mine. I’m drunker than shit and will probably puke in a moment. I’ll push dirt over the puke like it never happened. As I look above my head, upside down at the library windows, three figures stand peering through the glass, backlit, unmoving. Even with the world upside down as it is, the central figure in a blue sweater, with salt and pepper hair, comes into focus. Coach Brandon. What I can’t comprehend in my addled brain, what I can’t wrap my mind around, is why he’s there standing next to a dark figure in a cowl and, on his other side, why there’s a bald guy whose head shines in a mosaic of tattoos. None of this makes sense. Huh. But I can tell you this: coach just winked at me. That’s the second time tonight.

There's a guy that goes to SOP regularly who has this - and similar graphics - tattooed prominently on him. If you have the graphic, you can get it printed easily. It can be done by an online printer, you can get iron-on print at home transfers - or if you know someone with a Cricut they could make it using transfer film or inpregnating ink.

I find this post baffling. Are we to believe that this quality you complain about is exclusive to bottoms? As we say in NYC, FOH. Bottoms, how many times have you been asked to be ass up and face down? How many times have you been reduced to some cartoonish body part? If anything, this is a part of the bareback culture, and like barebacking itself, it has its time and place. You wanna get to know me and for me to know you? Let's go on a date. If you want a hot piece of ass from a bitch in heat, call me. I might be in the mood.

And I'd happily fill you, too.

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When we chatted i saw on the map where he was. When we met we both recognized each other and he said your that house as he pointed I pointed out his and we both chuckled. I said yup we are close. We walked the dog to the baseball field. One of the benches is kind of secluded and we sat there. We talked a little about past fun. He said he gets in some moods and looks for bottoms in the area. He said there are a few young guys and our age in the area he has seen. We was very much in the DL so am I we both got relaxed enough that he unzipped and pull out his cock I looked down as he stroked it and i sucked him. He definitely had done this before at this spot. He blew his load and got up. He asked to see mine and I plulled my sweats down and I was hard as he sucked me dry. He shore loved to suck. His small dog was good no barking or noise. Lol I met him a few times i was cutting my grass once as he walked by. Felt weird but we were cool he waved i waved. We hooked up a few times at his place.

I said it before and I'll say it again, as long as you fuck raw you are welcome here. Condoms are not welcome in this community. Men who fuck raw are welcome. If you're FTM and you fuck raw, welcome to the party. Bring everything about yourself and we'll have fun together. As long as it's bareback.

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Chapter 4 The guy pulled the Kid back and held his cock inside the Kid and said “ There you go, take it all. I’m going to knock you up you little cock teasing bitch “. The Kid wasn’t sure who he was talking to at that moment. It was apparent that the guy was cuming but the Kid didn’t feel anything inside his ass. The guy was panting and holding the Kid close. He let the Kid straighten up and when he did the guy’s deflated cock popped out. The Kid was glad because he figured it was finally over. The guy pulled his pants back up and looked at the front of the Kid. He saw the hairless crotch and the look on the Kid’s face like a dear in a headlamp. He said “ Now that we know what you will do to keep me from spilling the beans around here. I have a few friends that also saw your little episode in the park. We have been wanting to get to you”. The Kid once again was shocked at what he heard and realized that this wasn’t over yet. The Kid looked over and asked “ What do you mean “? The guy grinned and said “ My friends like to get into a little S&M and bondage. They are about as nasty as you will ever see “. With that the guy walked out of the restroom an the Kid got dressed and went to his office to collect his things and go home. As the Kid was grabbing his jacket, he noticed an envelope on his desk. He opened it and inside was a photo of him with a cock in his mouth. He couldn’t tell where it was taken but written on it was a note ‘ I know what you did ‘ . He knew it wasn’t the guy that had him in the restroom because he saw him walk directly to the elevator. The Kid knew that someone else was aware of his secret and now he would probably have to deal with that also. He went to the elevator and walked to his car. He could feel a wetness between his cheeks. Apparently, the guy did shoot a load in his bumn and it was leaking out. When he got home e went into the bathroom to clean up some. When he removed his briefs and looked at them, he was shocked to see the amount of cum that was there. Apparently the guy’s load was a lot bigger than he thought. After he was done cleaning up, he put on some lounging shorts and sat on the couch to look at the TV and relax. This event at work did leave him with the need to get off. He started stroking when there was a knock at the door. There he was with a raging hardon and someone at the door. He went over and looked thru the peep hole to see who it was. It was the guy from next door that caught him in the shadows after his night at the park. He looked a second time as the guy was knocking again. He was sure that this was the same guy. He opened to door and the guy walked in and closed the door behind him. He looked down at the Kid and saw the tent in the Kids shorts and smiled. He said “ Looks like my timing is good again “ . He knelt down and pulled the Kid’s shorts down and stared to lick the head of the Kid’s swollen cock. At the same time he stared worming a finger in the Kid’s ass. He felt some left over cum in his hole and stopped and looked up at the Kid and said “ I think you have already had some tonight ”. He pulled the Kid over to his couch and bent him over the back of it. He started eating the Kid’s ass making sure to nip his tender rosebud. The Kid was moaning and his cock was dripping precum like a fountain. The guy stopped and stood up. The Kid figured he was in for another fucking but the guy reached into his pocket and pulled out a small baggie. IN it was a medium sized shard and some ground up Meth. He fished out the shard and pushed it up the Kid’s ass. The Kid said “ Ouch “ when he pushed it in. The Kid wasn’t stretched much and the edges of the shard scraped the walls of his opening. With his finger being wet from the spit and cum in the Kid he was able to coat his finger with the remain of the baggie. He pushed his finger into the Kid’s ass and twisted it around. He wanted to make sure that the Drud was packed into the walls of his rosebud for maximum effect. It took a minute for the Kid to react to the Tina but the Kid felt the burning of the Tina and said “ That burns a lot, please stop “. The guy didn’t stop, In fact he twisted it more in the Kid’s ass. He knew that the shard probably put some small cuts in the kid and now he was rubbing this into those cuts. He reached in with his finger and found a small part of that was left of the shard. He was able to move it around to rub the Kid’s prostate with it. He knew that this would hit his prostate and do two things. It would hit his blood stream faster and at the same time it would make it harder for the Kid to cum, which sooner than later he would be craving.

Fuuuuck I fucked my fleshjack reading this.. I have a boyfriend.. he’s in Cali and I’m in Vegas. The thought of sex with his ex turns me on so much. I ran across his ex’s Twitter page few months ago.. he had a lot of nudes. I’ve cum looking at his ass and his cock and every other inch of his naked body. I fucking want to cheat so bad right now. I usually only top my boyfriend but I think I want raw bare hard cock in me. Get fucked and bred by a man. I’d be so horny that they know I’m cheating for their big cock

Part 12 The pain that instantly took over everything I was now became the only focus I was capable of. It was as if the world had disappeared and all that surrounded me was nothing but a blinding horrific pain filled blackness. No sounds, no smells....nothing but the unmerciful increase of the pain and silent darkness of my mind. So, I thought to myself, this is how it feels to die. After I don't know how long, I was vaguely aware of hearing voices. They sounded far away and I couldn't make out any words but it was something my mind struggled to hold onto, to pull me out of the blackness. But even as I began to hear the voices grow louder and began to feel a warm breeze touching my skin, my growing alertness also brought the intense unbearable pain into sharp and undeniable reality. I tried to scream, to make words, but I couldn't. I didn't want to but I opened my eyes and cried out at the unexpected brightness of the sun-filled afternoon. “Hey there daddy,” I heard a voice say. “I'm glad you're back with us. Just in time to feel me shove the last inch of my cock into your tight cheating married ass!” Then I felt a powerful thrust against my body and finally found my voice. “No!! Don't, please!! What's going on?!! Please, oh please make it stop hurting!” I was sobbing and trying to understand what was happening. “Look at me, daddy,” I heard the same voice say, in a commanding tone that I knew I had to obey. I looked towards the voice, my vision beginning to clear and I saw my naked body stretched out, legs spread wide, and between my legs a naked sweat-covered handsome young man grinning at me lustfully. “Drew,” I whispered hoarsely as I recognized him and images of today began moving into my drug-fogged mind. His smile widened. “Yeah daddy, it's me. Drew. Your son. Remember all the fun we've been having?” As he spoke I felt more pain, a newer kind of pain as if my insides were being pulled out. “Oh fuck! That hurts! Why? What?! No, no, my son is Jeremy. Not Drew.” The pieces still hadn't all fallen into place yet in my head and I was confused. The pain was making it hard to concentrate. I saw a look of surprise briefly cross Drew's face. “Jeremy? Jeremy's your son?” “Yes,” I answered wondering why he asked that. Before I could say more though Drew spoke again. “But today I'm your son, daddy. Drew. Your own son. The one you wanted to fuck you. That you begged to fuck your cheating married ass and take your virginity. Remember, daddy? Remember sucking in the fuck smoke then begging for my cock? Your son's cock in your cherry hole?” As he said this I felt a movement inside me as he slid balls deep into me again. And I remembered. I remembered everything. I moaned, dimly aware of three things almost all at the same time: (1) I felt Drew begin moving his cock in and out of my ass; (2) I felt a pulsing in my own cock; and (3) I realized the pain, although it was still terrific, was not as bad as just a few moments before. “Mmmmm,” I sighed. “Oh fuck yes I remember. But it hurts too much. I can't take it. Please, please pull out of me.” Drew, his gaze fixed on me, ran his hands up my thighs, over my abs and stopped at my pecs even as his in-and-out movements continued. He took both of my nips between the thumb and forefinger of each hand and pulled on them. I moaned and arched my back enjoying the sensation on my nips and for a short moment almost forgetting the pain of his cock inside me. “I know how good it feels to have your nips played with,” I heard Drew whisper softly as I lay there with my eyes closed feeling myself getting turned on. “I like making you feel good, daddy. And I can make you feel really good with my cock. I promise. Don't make me stop daddy. Let me fuck you some more and show you. Let your son 's cock make you feel good, daddy. Okay?” His fingers on my nips, his seductive voice, his promise to make me feel good all worked together to weaken my resistance. And as I tried to think more clearly I couldn't deny that the pain that had wracked my body and my mind when he first put his cock in me had now become more uncomfortable instead of unbearable. Apparently Drew took my silence to mean I didn't want him to fuck me more because I heard him say, “I think you need some help to persuade you, daddy.” I opened my eyes to see him looking at me. “And we have the help you need. Ryan, let our Daddy Justin have some more smoke. He gets so naughty when he does.” Drew had hardly finished when I saw a hand holding the glass pipe move it to my lips and lighting a flame under the packed bowl. “That's it stud. Suck in that fuck smoke and get nasty with us.” I looked up and saw Ryan's face smiling at me as I inhaled the swirling smoke. “Yeah man,” he said. “Get all the fuck smoke you can. Then enjoy getting fucked.” As soon as I started sucking on the pipe my eagerness for more hot raw sex quickly grew. As I started on my second hit Drew began moving his hips faster, sliding his hard bare cock in and out of my hole in a perfect rhythm. I was feeling more and more pleasure, the earlier pain becoming a distant memory. I blew out my second cloud and looked into Drew's dark eyes. I moved my legs up and wrapped them around his waist. “Oh hell baby! That feels so good. Your cock feels so damn good inside me! Fuck me son! Fuck your dad and give me your cum!” Drew's grinned hungrily at me. “You fucking got it daddy! Your son is going to fucking knock you up! Hold on stud!” (to be continued)

If I were you, I'd let him know. Married men are the hottest. They try to keep the secret. If you're attracted to him and he's a good fuck, he can just come to you for a blowjob or a fuck instead of going elsewhere. Plus, it cuts down on him maybe catching something from all the other guys. I don't know your status, I didn't check. Still, if he's there and willing.

Going Home 3 Seeing the look on Daddy’s face as he held my head, I began to sob. “Fucking cuntboy,” he said, pulling me to my feet. “I missed you too.” I was a mess... the chems running through me brought out all the old feelings I had when I left all those years ago. “Daddy...” I babbled incoherently... trying to put it into words what I went through all those years ago. “I’m sorry... I wasn’t ready... I wanted to...” Interrupting me, “I know cuntboy...” he said, trying to comfort me. His hand moved down to my cunt. “I waited for you for a long time. You were my first cuntboy....you ARE my first cuntboy. And now I have two...” Daddy chuckled, slipping his index finger inside me hearing Frankie approaching. “Daddy...” I moaned. “I’m sorry.” Feeling the heat of Frankie’s body emanating against my back, he wrapped his arm around me to reveal a cut and scored white rectangular tablet in the palm of his hand. “Go on, cuntbro. ” he encouraged. Opening my cuntmouth, I extended my tongue and he slipped it in without a word before moving to Daddy’s side. Frankie was now holding the soft cock. I smiled and dropped. Staring up into Daddy’s face, I opened wide and felt the rush of chem piss carry the tablet down my throat until Daddy fed me the entire chem-filled contents of his bladder. “Time to rest up, Sammy,” my cuntbro told me, helping me to my feet and walking me to the bed. “MMMM...” I moaned as I fell into the bed, feeling the effects of the tablet begin to do its job. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “WHAT THE FUCK?!” I grunted... waking up with a start. Trying to gather my senses, I sat up and took the room in. It was all coming back. I was in Dan’s... no Daddy... that’s right... Daddy’s playroom. My head hurt and I raised my hands to my head. “What the fuck?!” I groaned... seeing both my wrists locked in leather restraints, before spying a plate of food and a small jug of orange juice. I was starving and quickly chowed down the meal, washing the final bites down with large chugs of the juice. Stumbling out of the bed, I steadied myself and walked over to the mirrored wall. I was still wearing the leather collar and harness but the glint of metal rings in my tits caught my eyes. “Goddamn Shit!” I exhaled... Sometime during my black-out, I had been geared up. Grabbing my tits, I felt the sting of the thick metal rings now running through them. The sensation of my newly pierced tits was incredible... I continued fondling them... feeling the nerve impulses connecting with my cunt. The feeling in it was awesome... it felt stretched out... full yet not full at the same time. My hands grazed my muscular torso as they worked their way to my cuntlips but their journey was interrupted by thick silicone material. “HUH?!” I wondered... “plug?” But again... full but not full.... Working my way further along ... I felt the base open up and my fingers slipped inside... I was gaped! “SHIT!” I moaned and looked down. Seeing a pair of 15-hole Rangers on my size 12 feet, I laughed. At this point I knew I should have a raging hard on in my jockstrap. Reaching for it with both hands, I gripped the mass of leather and began to massage it... my slicked-up fingers slipped over the pouch. That’s when I felt it... a hard metallic bulge. “What?!” I inhaled... Pulling the waistband away from me, I expected to see my smooth package against my freshly shaven crotch, only to see my soft cock now surrounded in a cage of chrome. “You’re awake...” I heard Daddy growl... his strong hand covering my cuntmouth. I began to desperately licking it as the other pulled at my plug, stretching my cunt out until it was released... my cunt retracted but still held a gape I knew I would now always have. “Yes!” I moaned into the rough hand and pushed back onto his hard cock slipping through the tunnel plug expanding the walls of my cunt. “Slipped right in...” he grunted... now fucking me with a steady pace. It’s what I craved... needed... to be completely filled again. Before long, Daddy picked me up... his cock still buried in me... and carried me to the fuck bench where Frankie stood, gear matching mine, watching us. His massive cock stood straight ahead, securing me. Now bent over, I took the shaft and began to suck the stream of precum flowing from his piss slit and swallowed. “Just a small one...” I heard Daddy, feeling a tourniquet tighten around my bicep... “just to get him up to speed.” I barely felt the needle go in but the rush quickly hit me. “Fucking please...” I moaned, the combination of chems and the quickening pace of the fuck overcoming me. I felt alive... Daddy was close... I tried to work my cunt... to clench his cock and milk it dry. The barrage continued... I was being spit-roasted... cocks in both my cunts. But Frankie was the first to near the edge... “Goddamn it!” he yelled, his spasming cock exploding in my cuntmouth. Holding my head in a vise-like grip, he continued spewing and the pressure against my skull increased. It felt like my head would explode... Finally regaining his composure, he pulled out as my lips surrounded his spent shaft for any final residue of his orgasm. At this point, he leaned in, our lips separated only by my saliva and his cum. His face was so close to mine... his dilated green eyes sparkled as hot breath filled my cuntmouth. “Fuck Sammy...” he mumbled, tasting the remains. Releasing a deep grunt, Daddy pulled back and shoved his cock one last time, releasing another precious load before pulling out. “Fucking beautiful cuntpigs!” For a moment, I felt empty until my cunt was again stretched with my tunnel plug as Frankie knelt... licking the cock clean of cum and cuntjuices. Finished, my cuntbro ran his hands over my body and released me. I stood and turned to Daddy... taking in the geared-up leather God before me. My eyes wandered from his booted size 13 feet up past his huge calves and continued on to the thick thighs both covered by a pair of leather chaps showing the definition of his powerful muscles. His cock was now confined in a leather codpiece presenting every vein of his thick shafted cock leading to the prominently displayed outline of the cut head. How I wanted it in me again... His massive torso was wrapped in a leather harness that pushed his furry pecs up as if to offer his pierced tits to my hungry cuntmouth. His blue eyes then caught my attention... reminding of the times I would get lost in them as my legs would spread to welcome him into my cunt. “Cuntboys... present.” Obeying, I stood at attention hands behind my back and eyes down next to Frankie. “Sammy, I’ve decided it’s time to make it public. You’re home and everyone will know after tonight.” “Yes, Sir...” I stammered, my heart now racing. “Your Daddy’s gonna show off his new... well returning cuntboy” he chuckled, “show those fuckers I’m now in complete control of you. Sam is gone... Actually, he never existed. It was a fucking goddamn lie." I was conflicted... I fucking needed to be a cuntboy but what would people think?! “Fuck!” There, it came out... fear of being discovered. I had spent so many years overcompensating. Every cunt I took was disposable... to be tossed after I was done. Seeing my reaction to the news, he angrily walked up to me. “Sammy...” he growled, taking my chin in his hand and raising it... “IT’S happening.” Those eyes again! I took a breath and raised my hands to his strong pecs and moved in, planting my cuntmouth against his lips. Without skipping a beat, his arms enveloped me in a hard embrace, aggressively exploring my cuntmouth with his tongue. Breaking away, my tongue moved down to lick the beads of sweat on his neck... past the left shoulder strap of his leather harness and worked my way to the musk-soaked leather strap on his bicep before turning inward, arriving at my destination... his pit. My tongue scraping against the wet hair and inhaled the pungent scent of his sweat glands. My face now marked in his scent, on to his right tit I went. I took it in, hungrily chewing, feeling the ring clink against my front teeth. Moaning in pleasure, he cupped my head in his rough hands, pressing his pec against my greedy tongue. Releasing me, I made my way across his muscled chest to the left tit, not wanting to ignore it and began to worship it. I fell to my knees, removed the codpiece and tossed it aside. His erect cock now rising to full mast, I fully engulfed it into my cuntmouth to the root in order to experience the musk now emanating from his pubes and sac. I could have stayed there all night... but Daddy had plans for me. He roughly grabbed my hands and began thrusting his fat cock in and out of my throat as I gasped for breath between the quick strokes. “DON’T FUCKING THINK YOU’RE GETTING OUT OF IT, CUNTBOY!” Daddy roared, shooting his thick load down my throat, giving me a protein meal that would energize me for the coming night. Before I could even think, Frankie dropped and took Daddy’s cock into his cuntmouth, cleaning his spit-covered cock. All this time, I remained on my knees watching. Remaining on the spent cock, Frankie suckled the softening flesh and waited for his prize. Slowly, a stream began to trickle out onto my cuntbro’s tongue and he moved in. His lips now against Daddy’s crotch, his throat spasmed as he swallowed the now rushing flood of piss. His thirst finally quenched, Frankie grabbed the leather codpiece and secured Daddy’s cock. At this point, Frankie turned to me... his cheeks bulging. “Fucker,” I smiled, crawling to him. I placed my lips against his. Grabbing his head in my hands, I squeezed, indicating I was ready, and he released the pool of piss stored in his cuntmouth and fed me. “Goddamn cuntpigs...” Daddy laughed and made his way outside. “Time to go... car’s ready.” Taking a lick of piss dribbling from my chin, Frankie got up. “Me first.” he snickered, licking his lips. I remained there for a second, watching Frankie’s strapped muscular glutes move as he went for the door. I started to rise, but saw Frankie stop in the doorway, bend over and spread his ass cheeks. “Shit!” I moaned, seeing his prominently plugged cunt... only the base was solid... I was the only one to be gaped! I remained in a half crouch... “Thought you should know...” Frankie chuckled and stood, walking out the door. “Come on.” Resigned to my fate, I stood and walked towards the door with Daddy’s cum now leaking out of my gaped cunt and down my legs. I made it to the front door and hesitated, standing there watching Daddy and Frankie getting into the car. Daddy leaned over Frankie... “Shut the front door and get in...” With no other choice at this point, I shut the door and walked towards the car... shivering from the cool air entering my gaped cunt. That’s when the driver’s window rolled down, allowing the driver to give me the once over before stepping out. “Fuck!” I thought, catching sight of the tall skinhead in front of me. He stood there wearing skintight bleached jeans over a pair of 30-hole Rangers laced in yellow. Noticing my interest, he straightened up and grabbed the wet spot soaking through the growing bulge moving down his leg. Muscled pecs began to rise under the tight black Fred Perry shirt trimmed in yellow which matched the braces running down his pecs. Damn he was beautiful... my cunt pulsed as his tatted hand went playfully over his closely cropped blond hair... his grey eyes immediately locked on mine. “Oi mate,” he smiled, noticing the slight dilation in mine. “I’m Jac.” “Uh Sammy.” I hesitated before sitting down next Frankie, my eyes never leaving his lustful gaze. “Nice to meet ya... Sammy.” he growled and shut the door slowly. “Jac’ll be our driver from now on when we need him.” “Yep,” Jac chuckled. “Whenever you need me.” he said, looking directly back at me. We were on our way... not another word spoken between any of us, my eyes constantly looking at Jac’s face reflected in the rear-view mirror while the car made its way towards the center of the city’s long forgotten industrial area. I let out a nervous chuckle, realizing where were going. I had been there many times... The car finally stopped and we sat there for a second. Jac reached down and quickly handed Daddy a couple of metallic bullet-shaped cylinders. “Perfect...” he smiled handing one to Frankie and dialing a huge dose on the other then passing it to me. Holding the warm metal cylinder in my hand, I raised it to my nostril and inhaled deeply... the burning sensation filled my nasal cavity. “Good boy...” he said proudly and turned to Jac. “You coming in?” “Gotta make a couple of runs...” Jac answered, checking his phone, “Just let me know when you’re ready.” Opening the door, Daddy nodded and stepped out with Frankie right behind him. They stood there, watching me. I took a deep breath and stepped out onto the asphalt, immediately attracting attention from a few guys going in. Rolling down the window, Jac leaned out. “Oi, Boss...” he blurted out before turning his sight to me. “I’ll have the cunt for a session and we’ll be square for tonight’s tab.” “Yeah?” Daddy laughed, grabbing me by the collar and attaching a metal leash. “Yeah, Boss.” Jac answered licking his lips. “Deal...” Daddy yelled out, tugging at my leash and pulling me into the dark bar after him. I had no choice and obediently entered. It was still early and the bar was just starting to fill up with guys dressed in leather and denim. I knew Daddy had planned it that way... I was to be easily seen being led to the bar. I hesitated for a second, seeing a familiar face behind the bar... It was Greg. “Fuck,” I thought, seeing the stocky muscle bear cub who had spent a night on his knees servicing me. He was a damn good fuck... I remembered, taking in the sweat matted dark hair on his tightly harnessed pecs, showing off his always erect tits... Instinctively, I licked my lips... Turning to pass a beer to a customer, I watched the muscles of his back move and cause the tatted bear paws on each shoulder blade seem to make a grasping motion towards me. On seeing me, he took a step back. “Sam... WHAT HE F...” Greg started before being sternly interrupted. “His name is Sammy...” Daddy snapped, pulling on my leash and forcing me forward. “Right?” “Yes.” I answered in a downward glance, seeing Greg’s cock stir in the stained jockstrap he wore to advertise he was available. Again, he pulled my leash... only upwards this time, forcing me to look at Greg’s now smirking face. “Yes, what?” Taking a breath, I answered. “Yes, Sir... My name is Sammy.” “Good cuntboy...” Daddy said loudly, announcing to everyone my status before turning to Greg and ordering us a round of beers. Frankie stood smiling, watching the commotion going on around us. I stood there feeling the stares and then heard a loud round of laughs from the other end of the bar. “SAMMY!” I heard them laughing. Seeing my distress, Daddy pulled in by my collar and snarled in my ear... “Sammy, remember the first time I took you out? How you felt being exhibited as my cuntboy?” I nodded, flashing back to that night. I had been meeting up with him for a few weeks... each time being slowly transformed into a cuntboy. He was patient with me, overcoming my doubts and inhibitions... of course the chems he gave me didn’t hurt. “You fucking proudly held your head high and showed everyone who you were... MY cuntboy. You had no fucking doubts about it.” he said, forcibly sliding his fingers inside my cunt. That did it... the hit had kicked in and I took a deep breath. I stood proudly... allowing all to see my transformation before turning to the laughing group. “YOUR CUNTBOY.” I said defiantly for all to hear before turning to Frankie... “Fuck yeah, cuntbro,” Frankie growled, his hand on my shoulder in a protective grip before grabbing one of the beers and handing it to Daddy. Now at attention, I stood obediently while Daddy took a long drink as a crowd formed around us. “I think Sammy’s thirsty, Frankie.” he smirked, forcing me to bend forward and expose my gaped cunt to the entire bar. “Yes, Sir...” Frankie growled, grabbing another long-neck, slipping it into my plug and holding it firmly. I jumped... feeling the foaming coldness filling my cunt and absorbed by the walls of my cunt. “That quenching your thirst?” Frankie chuckled, drinking his beer. “Let your cunt drink it in, cuntboy...” Daddy ordered. “Yes Sir,” I moaned as the crowd stood watching the level of the beer decrease. Pulling the now almost empty bottle out of my cunt, Frankie drank last of its contents, before placing it on the bar. I remained in position until I felt the tug on my collar and was led deeper into the depths of the bar. Making our way down a hidden hallway, we passed through the heavy metal door leading to the lower level. Slowly, we descended the staircase as our eyes became accustomed to the dim red light. I heard the door slam shut. “This way, cuntboy.” Daddy ordered, pulling my leash and leading me to a table front and center of the raised platform centered in the room. “How you feeling, Sammy?” “Fuck, Daddy...” I smiled... feeling the combination of the chems and beer. “Yeah... thought so...” he said with an evil grin. He pulled out one of the bullets and dialed it up, handing it to Frankie. Pulling out the second one, he watched me closely as he increased the number of turns for my dose and handed it to me. "That should fucking get you going.” he growled, taking a hit of his own off the other one. I inhaled deeply, letting the white powder flow into me... Daddy nodded in approval before pulling me to my knees. “Gotta piss,” he said matter-of-factly and I moved to release his cock. I didn’t hesitate... an involuntary moan escaped my cuntmouth as the first drops of chem piss flowed from Daddy’s massive cock. Eagerly, I opened my cuntmouth to collect as much piss as Daddy would feed me, swallowing it and begging for more. Most of the guys surrounding us were now openly jacking off and I was hit with a massive creamy load on my shoulder. Feeling the piss flow reducing, I heard Greg laughing... “Mind if I use your urinal there?” Greg asked, moving to Daddy’s side. “Gotta take a piss.” “Sure... be my guest.” Daddy smirked, shaking the last drops in my cuntmouth. Now in front of me, “Drink up, Sammy... tap’s ready for ya.” Greg muttered. Hands gripped my head and pulled me into the mound of the piss-stained mesh pouch. Without a second thought, I hungrily bit and tasted the rank sweat leaching into my cuntmouth. “Drink up...” Greg grunted, pulling me off the pouch and releasing his uncut cock. Wanting the piss, my lips pushed back the foreskin and sealed themselves around Greg’s cockhead. I began to swallow, working my tongue along his piss-slit and causing him to shiver. “Fuck me!” Greg moaned, holding my head tight until the flow began to subside. Swallowing the last of the acrid piss, I began working my lips and tongue down Greg’s shaft... I wasn’t done yet. “Goddamn, Sammy... If I had only known...” he growled, grabbing my head again and thrusting deeply into me. The crowd around us had grown considerably and I was now covered in cum dripping down my torso. Holding onto his hips, I steadied myself and began to do my work. Greg’s swelling cock jerked, pre-cum leaking from the tongue-flicked piss slit like molasses until it was at full mast. On I continued, worshipping the cock I had ignored and wanted no part of the we spent together. “Fuck...FUck... FUCk... FUCK!!!” Greg roared, throwing his head back as I pulled down on his hairy ball sac. Greg began to rapidly fuck my greedy cuntmouth. His knees started to buckle and he steadied himself on my cum slick shoulders as I felt his sac tightly draw up. “Take my fucking load, cuntboy!” he roared, blasting load after load in my cuntmouth. A big round of applause rang through the bar as a grinning Frankie fell to his knees beside me and shoved his tongue into my cuntmouth. “Share cuntbro,” he moaned, slurping the spunk I fed him as we devoured each other with our tongues. “Not done yet, cuntboy...” I heard Greg sharply comment. Bringing my face to his crotch, he slapped his cock against my lips. “Clean,” he snarled, remembering my insistence that night I fucked him. Darting my tongue out, I moved around the slick helmet and moved down the shaft, cleaning the remains of his load. On I went to the low hanging ball sac and slipped one of the balls into my cuntmouth and rolled it around. “All right, your break’s over cub,” Daddy growled, pulling me off Greg’s crotch. “My turn.” Smiling, Greg stuffed his package back in his jock... “Yes, Sir.” he answered, walking to bar and whispering to the downstair’s bartender. Nodding, the bartender looked towards me before making his way upstairs, allowing Greg to take over. Turning me around, Daddy leaned in and growled... “How’s it going, cuntboy?” My cunt throbbed in ecstasy and I pushed my ass against Daddy’s crotch... I had no words for how I was feeling. “Fuck, cuntboy... look at all the men watching you... stroking their fucking cocks watching you service cock.” “Shit yes!” I roared... feeling the ringed mushroom cockhead invading my cunt. My cunt spasmed and took hold of the cock as it eased its way deeper before beginning its assault. “Yeah, Sammy... how many of these guys have had that worthless cock of yours up their cunts?” I could see the crowd growing closer... cocks were out and being stroked to the rhythm of Daddy’s thrusts. Taking the closest one into my cuntmouth, I began to suck and worship it. Suddenly, I felt someone fall to their knees next to me... it was Frankie... my cuntbro had taken a cock into his cuntmouth. “Fucking cuntbro,” I mumbled, the cock now shooting its load into me. Grabbing hold of Frankie, I pulled him to me and grabbed his cheeks, forcing them open and fed him the salty viscous load. I fucking loved it!!! … Being on display like this with my cuntbro. Daddy continued fucking my hungry cunt... pulling out and then ramming it home. I was openly being fucked in the middle of the packed bar and covered in cum. The crowd was going wild... the room filled with applause, catcalls and cheers as they egged us on. We continued feeding on cocks... our bodies now slick with the massive loads we induced from the crowd. Finally, Daddy took me by the hips and plunged his cock in to the hilt, unloading a volley of cum shots inside me. “I FUCKING OWN THIS CUNT!” he proclaimed as the crowd stood back, letting out a ferocious roar. Clamping tightly on Daddy’s retreating cock, I milked the final drops of cum from the shaft before Daddy pulled us both up into a passionate kiss before forcing our faces into his sweat-soaked pits to take in the pheromones radiating from them. “Gentlemen,” he said loudly to no one in particular, “I hope you enjoyed Sammy’s reintroduction to being my cuntboy.” Now faces now wet with his scent, Daddy grabbed us both by the collar and made his way through the crowd, hands giving congratulatory slaps on his back, to an empty corner where Jac stood smiling.

A couple weeks ago a fuck bud of mine came over for some fun. He's a 20 something black guy with a really nice 7.5" dick and an incredibly sexy hairy butt and hole. It's especially hot since from the waste up he is very smooth. As someone who loves a hairy ass I loved the surprise of seeing such a hairy bottom. I love eating it and it feels especially good on raw dick. We spent about 30 minutes having great sex. He's a wonderful kisser, loves to suck dick and inhale poppers. He knows I'm poz, undetectable and we have never even discussed using condoms. By the end of the evening I sent him home with my load. The next morning he called me and told me he forgot his watch and would come by sometime to pick it up. Two days later around 10AM he shows up at my door. He said he was on his way for his 3 month PrEP checkup and my house was on the way. I went to the bedroom to grab the watch and when I came back he kissed me. I didn't think he had time to have sex but it was game on. He started undoing my pants and got on his knees and put his dick in my mouth. While he was sucking he handed me poppers. I was in heaven. I pulled him up took another hit of poppers and shotgunned the scent into his mouth. We kissed ravenously until I turned him around bent him over and started eating his ass. My god that awesome ass. I got it so wet that my spit was clinging to his pubes. I pulled him up again and kissed him so he could taste his ass, We both hit the poppers and I turned him around again ate his ass some more tasting his musk before I slid in. I only fucked him for a few minutes until I couldn't hold back and went balls deep pumping my semen inside him. I slowly pulled out and was so turned on by my pearly white semen clinging to his short hairs . I couldn't resist tasting just a bit....My cum and his musky ass. I reached up and shared some with him. He said he had to go as his appointment was soon. After he left I was so turned on knowing he was going into an HIV clinic with my load freshly planted. Would some leak out? If it did would the doc smell it? Would they do an anal swab for STD's? I hoped that when he was getting counseled on safe sex he would feel my load in his ass.

Sunday morning I woke up early and horny. For some reason I was lately having dreams of my uncle Jake, for two nights in a row, and today was no exception. Crap like being dressed in a very feminine parade dress and teasing him with my hairless buttocks semi-exposed by the fabric while marching around the kitchen (practicing the step match) were always the part where my dream broke, and I woke up. In tonight’s dream Jake was holding my baton and hitting my ass with it at every turn around the table, while keeping his other hand in his pants, obviously making himself hard. I stayed quiet in bed for a long while, adjusting my breathing, and listening for any sound from around. The usual chorus of the barn, the frogs, and the chirping of early birds were all I could hear. An occasional rooster in the distance would break the monotony, but otherwise the entire place was quiet. Slowly, and still very horny, I got up and washed. I walked down the wooden planks trying to keep the planks from creaking and out, to the outhouse. I filled a bucket of water for after my business. I hated being unclean and I couldn’t understand how uncle Jake and some of the brutes that worked for him could crap, wipe once with newspaper, and then just walk on, and work, and sweat, and go on all day while obviously not being clean! It never ceased to amaze me that the bucket of water was never used for such a primordial aspect of personal hygiene! While sitting and pushing hard, thoughts of Jake and Mr. Barner kept crossing my mind. Dong crossed my mind, too, and how amazing it felt to have him inside me, even though I felt sooooo ashamed, so raped, and so humiliated, last year, around this time. Somehow, the thought of men fucking me always swarmed my mind as I pushed to crap, and I never understood why. After that, I washed myself again, and after making sure I was squeaky clean I went back into the house. I slowly went back up the stairs, and I saw uncle Jake, lighting a red Malrboro and leaning on the wall next to my room’s door frame! In his other hand he was holding his crotch! Seeing me paralysed at the end of the stairs, he gave me a crooked smile and pointed to my room with his cigarette. I obeyed and without a single word, I walked into my room. He followed. And again— without a single word, he pulled down his dirty underwear, and held a sizeable cock in his hand, while staring at my tiny frame, compared to his. I was so horny I slowly dropped to my knees. He approached as he puffed smoke sideways. His snake was a mere 4 inches from my face, and it was hypnotising me. ”You been here two weeks, now, here, nephew! Time you met my friend!” I couldn’t take my eyes off his cock. A huge, pink shaft, straight as palm tree, with an enormous, slightly darker helmet, closing in on me. His piss slit, with a tiny drop of a white, gooey substance that was barely making its way out. His helmet’s ridge, pronounced and impossible to ignore. And right after his huge mushroom head, a thick vein was beginning its trail all the way to uncle Jake’s abdomen. Another one was going sideways to under his scrotum! His cock was art!!! I literally gulped his entire shaft before my hand even reached for it. His smell gave me both shivers and a sudden need to throw up, but something about older men fascinated me. Yes, guys like big Greek Dong could fuck for an hour, but older men fucked with your brains, too! ”Ahhhh, yeah! Keep it there, dear!” he exhaled, as his prick was still in my mouth, his whitening pubic hairs scratching my face. “Caress my other two friends— that’s why god gave you two hands!” While I didn’t get his logic, my hands went where he wanted then in less than an instant, as I could feel his girth increase another little bit as my hands massaged his full balls. With one hand I cupped his left testicle, softly as if holding a precious dragon egg, and with my other hand I teased his right ball, using my nails in slow, long strokes. My mouth began to fill with my own juices, and my stomach buckled, I needed air! And still, I didn’t pull out— instead I widened my mouth briefly to a side, gasping for another ounce of oxygen, all just to keep Jake’s cock longer in my mouth, past my uvula, and down the beginning of my throat. ”Yeah, baby! You are a natural!” I heard him say. And then he pulled out. I lunged for air, and he lit another Marlboro with the end of the other one. Chain-smoking! ”Your father told me that last year you had a hiccup because of the parade, and that you ended up being molested. Some even said you were fucked in front of others for the first time!” I looked up at him. ”Is that true?” I nodded. He towered over me, as I knelt in front of his now dangling schlong. “Turn around,” he said, “and put your knees here. Face the window! Doggie-style!” I was too horny, too shocked that he knew all this, and too weak, physically, to not to do exactly as he said. He pulled my underwear down and off my ass, and just under my knees, for which he made me lift each leg for an instant, as I was readying my mind to get fucked by uncle Jake’s long prick. I was too weak to ask for a condom, or beg for a position where I would feel less pain. I knew that in some five hours I would be at the parade, and I would probably be used again, and so I decided that better having an older man like Jake, start my day, than some younger stud who would just rabbit-fuck my rectum to his own tempo. I decided Jake should do me as ever he wished, and if I was going to be his bitch from this day on, well— one less thing to hate in this town. Just as I was about to pull my underwear off my legs, uncle Jake stopped me. He wanted it right below my knees, as he grabbed both my arms. My face was uncomfortably lying on the bed, and so I turned my head sideways to have some air. And then I felt him tie my right wrist to my right leg and the right side of my underwear. He did the same on my left wrist, but I couldn’t guess what did he tie me with. All this time, Jake didn’t say a word, and outside the sky was announcing another sweltering day in the heartland of South Florida. He smeared some kind of cream on my ass, and then I realised that he had brought with him my parade baton! I was hoping he would not use it as a giant dildo on me, but I had the answer to that question in less than three seconds, as I felt the end of it caressing the edges of my sphincter. “Push, baby!” he ordered. I did. I closed my eyes. ”More,” he whispered as I could hear him masturbating himself back to full hardness. I pushed more. He kept going at my sphincter but the baton was simply too thick. Suddenly, I felt pain as Jake gave my ass a slap, stronger than I could ever imagine a slap to be. I literally hurt both my wrists as my body jerked from the whip, and I realised he tied me with some of the hide he had left over after doing one of his custom made bull hide whips. I gave a loud scream and tears sprung off my face, and I prepared for a second hit. It never came. Instead, he whispered “Open, baby. Give me a little, young rose!” I didn’t understand what it meant but I pushed as hard as I had never pushed before. The baton touched my sphincter again and it went in!!! I couldn’t describe the feeling of the stick in my ass, after he held it in me for what seemed like an eternity. But once the pain subsided, I swear I was in pussy heaven as he kept sliding it in and out of me. He sometimes paused, and added more of whatever cream he was using to the giant dildo that was fucking me so rigidly. He sometimes twisted it at angles, probing my insides, and I felt him go past my inner ring, once or twice, at which he would just say something like “good baby, good baby!” After some 20 minutes of this he slowly removed the baton and placed himself behind me. I couldn’t see any of it, and my wrists were hurting like hell, but I knew he was going to fuck me, probably seed me, and maybe even make me suck his cock clean afterwards. “Ahhh, yeah,” he exclaimed as his mushroom head went past my ass pussy. I wriggled a little but I knew I would love it in less than a minute and so I moved back, trying to show him that I wanted his cock— all of it, just like I had it in my mouth, half an hour earlier. He gave an approving sound to my invitation and when I felt his head pop past my inner sphincter, he gave a loud grunt of satisfaction. He grabbed my hips, and started to shake my lightweight frame toward his penis, and off his penis, and again onto his penis, as if I didn’t weigh more than a bag of two pounds of sugar. He was impaling me fully with every thrust, and he was so enjoying it, that I somehow felt proud that it was me, my body— that gave him so much pleasure. He would pause every so often, and I felt that he was watching himself disappear inside me, with a soft grunt. I was waisted but I enjoyed every single attack, every single piston push, and then I heard him grunting harder and harder. ”Oh fuck. Oh fuck!” I cinched my eyes closed and decided to try to follow his thrusting. On every push I would open, I would really push hard to let him go as deep as he may. And on every pull out, I would tighten my stomach muscles to tighten his cock as if letting him know that my pussy wanted him inside, forever if possible. He fucked me harder than ever for another minute or so, and then he stopped. He planted himself firmly in me, and I thought I could count at least six of his gushes, permeating the insides of my colon. He screamed and his thighs shook as one gush of semen after another, were running out from his body, straight into mine. In my mind, I already knew that I would try to keep uncle Jake’s sperm in me, for as long as I could. But then there was the parade! It suddenly struck me, even as my uncle was still buried inside me. Would they humiliate me like last year? They already called me “goat” due to how small and skinny I was! Uncle Jake’s cock began to deflate, and I felt every inch of it as he removed himself from me. “Yeah, baby!” he kept murmuring, as he untied me. He laid back on my bed, and with a smile on his ugly face, he lit another Marlboro. I decided I wasn’t going to wait for him to ask me, and after massaging my wrists for a bit, I crawled between his legs and began kissing the tip of his cock. He immediately gave a happy ohhhh and I felt so proud. I licked his cock clean, and showed him how I loved to suckle a spent penis, after his load was deeply embedded in my entrails. ”You taste delicious,” I said. “Even if you never use that outhouse bucket.” He didn’t hear me. He was already asleep as the sun was coming out. I extinguished his cigarette and dressed up. It was time for Parade Practice…

You still fulfilled one of your most important functions.

There's a sex position that I love and have done a few times, with me 69ing one guy with both of us pissing a bit in each other's mouths as two tops bareback fuck us, pissing in our assholes, with ass to mouth while still pissing. It winds up with the tops breeding us both, and with both of us cumming in each other's mouths and swallowing of course. Is there a name for that position? Do others here like doing that, (and there's plenty of rimming and later felching as well).

I always find stories much hotter when the author is writing to his own taste, rather than the audience's. If the author isn't into something themselves, it shows in the writing. There's been a couple of stories I've seen go downhill fast when the writer started incorporating suggestions. Different story if the suggestions align with the author's interests though. That can be hot. So, I'd say keep going with what turns you on because it's obviously resonating.

Moved to a new city, finally opened up Grindr to see what messages I got the past few days. A lot more horny and available guys in my new city. I drove to a coffee shop to get a bite to eat and a drink. Before I got out of my car, in comes a new message. Of course being the eager slut I am I checked. It was a sexy Black guy, my favorite type: tall, skinny, lanky. From experience they have the thickest, biggest dicks. I wasn't disappointed. We swapped pics, and he said he works at a hotel. Funny enough, it's the hotel next to the coffee shop lol. He said we can do it in a lobby bathroom; handicapped stall is completely enclosed from the rest of the bathroom with its own locking door. Perfect! I got out of my car, and walked straight to the hotel. Bathroom was past the front desk in center of lobby. Unrelated, the employee working the desk was sexy as hell; another Black man I was hoping would get nosy, follow, and join. Alas, he didn't. Luckily no one was in the bathroom, so I immediately went into the handicap bathroom, shut the door, and messaged the guy. He was down in not even 2 minutes. Man, what a bod. Toned, 6 pack, beautiful nips to suck ... and his dick. Thick, big about 8.5 inches. Soft, it was a good 6 inches. He dropped his pants, and I immediately started sucking his juicy dick. He grabbed my head and started face fucking me. I started to choke ... he simply fucked harder. He busted a huge load in my mouth, I eagerly swallowed it all. He spun me around and pushed me to the ground, face first. Made me arch my back, really putting my ass in the air. He rimmed me real good, getting that tongue deep in my hole. We were both quietly moaning. He stopped rimming after a good 3 minutes ... I knew what was coming. Without even asking if I were okay with raw, he spat on his dick and slid in. I haven't had time to hookup at all the last couple of years, so I am tight. He didn't care lol. Once he got the head fully in, he simply pulled back on my hips and slammed the rest of his thick dick inside me. All I could do is moan ... my hole simply opened up, just enough, for him to fully enter me balls deep. My goodness, was my hole gripping that dick. He was pounding me hard and fast, grunting and moaning. Pulled back on my hair. Choked me. Whispered in my ear he is gonna breed me. He then slammed my face onto the floor, I was pushing my ass up and back on his dick ... I didn't want it to end, it was feeling so damn great! After about another minute, I hear him get short breaths, grunt ... slam so hard into me I fell flat on the ground. His body weight just followed and he was grinding that dick deep as I felt his thick dick throb and unload. He pulled out after sucking my neck real good, marking me with multiple hickeys. I sucked his dick clean, moaning at the flavors of my ass and his cum. We are a complete match ... traded numbers, and agreed to hookup again. I can tell he'll be my first regular. He left the bathroom first and I waited a few minutes so as not to arouse suspicion. lol well, that employee at front desk? He smirked as I walked by, and juggled his dick. Hopefully he'll follow me into the bathroom next time ... So I went to the coffee shop after this, got my bite to eat and drink. When I got up to leave ... some of the guy's cum went through my boxers and basketball shorts and onto the chair lol.

A couple of nights ago at The Vault in London. It was naked only cruise night. I arrived late so it was busy. I stripped off except for my boots and headed for the dark room. I bent other the bench and presented my ass. Soon I was being felt up and fingered and then a hard cock was being shoved up my hole.I didn't see who was fucking me but he pumped me for a few minutes but pulled out without loading me. A bit later another cock was filling my hole. He was bigger and rode me hard. HBe was grunting and I gripped his cock with my asshole as tight as I could. It was worth it cuz he shot his load deep inside me and let all the other tops know he was seeding me. That made them more interested in my ass cuz I'd now been seeded. The next bloke fucked and loaded me quick. I was on the bench for over an hour and several(I think 7) men bred my hole. Whatever the number, my ass was dripping cum. I ended the night on my knees sucking cock. I only swallowed 2 loads but one of em was a big sweaty bear with a thick cock who flooded my mouth with sperm.

I get back to my cabin and have a shower. I try to keep Adam’s seed in me, but there seems to be so much, and it leaks out the entire shower. It makes me proud to have been bred by him, but also sad I am losing his DNA. I throw on a t-shirt and cargo shorts and relax with a coffee and read a book for a couple of hours and with no warning Adam opens my cabin door and comes in and shuts it behind him (clearly, he has no issue using his key). Leaning against the door as if to hold it shut, he is standing there in the same uniform as yesterday, and again a huge bulge in his pants. “Got 15-minute break” is all he says. I jump up and kiss him quickly, and he breaks the kiss and says, “more of that later”. And spins me around and pulls the back of my shorts down and within a minute his manhood is deep inside me again and he is fucking me standing pushed against the wall with enthusiasm. “I just need to let….” and a huge growl as he floods me again with his toxic seed. With my shorts still around my knees he turns me around and kisses me passionately and pulls his pants up. “Ok, 5 more minutes” he says. He doesn’t move but holds me there against the wall with my pants around my knees kissing me. My own cock is rock hard and leaking precum and some gets on the pants of his crotch. “Your turn” he says and kneels and deep throats my cock. After a couple of minutes of sucking me off he looks up and says, “nice neg juices, may be the last I get from you”. With that I lose control and cum all over his face and beard before he gets the chance to get back on it. He stands up, and I feel bad. “You can’t go back to work like that”. And I quickly lick off all my neg cum off his beard and kiss him with it until he is all cleaned up. He kisses me one last time. “No waiting until midnight this time. Be back at 10pm tonight”. At 10 o’clock on the dot Adam lets himself into my cabin and this time he comes bearing gifts. A bottle of wine and some cheese and crackers. He kisses me and says, “can’t not be looking after the father of my babies”. Tonight, is different. We enjoy the wine and chat a lot more about each other. He is such a gorgeous man. Tonight, is romantic. Adam still gives me 3 loads and again he stays the night in my cabin. I tell him I am in Perth for a month and was planning to get a flight back to Sydney. But now I think I might take the train back. His roster doesn’t quite match up, and the best I can do is stay an extra 2 weeks in Perth so I can get his train back. So, I stay 6 weeks in Perth, and we stay in touch the whole six weeks. We text and call almost non-stop. I fear that not only do I want his babies in me, but I want him more than that. We talk a lot about him taking some time off and us having a holiday together. Two weeks in I come down with a cold, and I am suspicious. It isn’t too bad, but I can’t stop wondering if this is his baby inside me. I do a test 3 weeks in and it comes back positive. It is Adams and I feel so “whole”. I decide not to tell Adam until my return trip no matter how often he asks. Adam is in Perth 2 days and nights before his return trip, so he spends them with me. We get a luxury apartment overlooking the ocean and the few hours he is not inside me; we go out for dinners and walks along the beach. He is insanely affectionate even in public and I feel in heaven. We are laying in bed the night before the train ride home and he is saying he wants to try to knock me up on the return trip. I look him in the eyes and say, “well if you did, then I’d be having twins”. He immediately smiles and says, “no way!”. “Yep” I said, “and it can only be yours”. That night we don’t have sex, we make love. It feels so different. He says, “well now we know it is definitely mine, maybe we can make the ride back to Sydney more interesting for you”. To be continued…

Thanks guys. I’m working on another chapter, it just might take a while, but i appreciate the nudges.

can't wait for more. love this story.

how about one that says "PLEASE FUCK ME" or "HIV CUMSEWER" or "BAREBACK CUMDUMPSTER" or even "I SUCK MY DADS COCK" or maybe just "BUGCHASING FAGGOT"

2. Bullfrog and Otter Boy Quartermaine’s familiar tattooed dome strode by the high trailer windows. A moment later there was a wrap on his door, and a low, “Get him out of here,” and then Quartermaine was gone. Jeremy, Jeremiah, Bullfrog—let’s stick with Jeremy for now—Jeremy nudged the old dairy farmer who definitely smelled like his livestock. The cot was narrow so they were right up against each other. The farmer continued to snore. Jeremy shook the old man again. “I’m up. I’m up,” said the farmer. He threw his spindly legs over the cot, bare feet on the grungy linoleum. “Up an atom,” the old man said out of habit, mostly to himself, blinking, putting out his hand on the nightstand searching for his glasses. Jeremy, already sitting next to him in threadbare boxers, handed them to him. “Milk the cows or they’ll be hell to pay,” the farmer said smacking his lips, making sure his dentures were still intact. He seemed to have forgotten where he was. He looked around at the trailer, then at Jeremy. “Thanks for stopping by, Shamus,” Jeremy said, getting up and going over to his small coffee maker, pouring himself a cup. He wasn’t going to offer the old farmer any. He needed to make sure he was gone before the camp had officially gotten into the buzz of opening day mode. It was still early enough that no one would be wiser that Shamus had been there all night. “Ya know,” Shamus said pulling up his coveralls, slipping the suspenders over his narrow shoulders, “you remind me of someone.” “Who,” Jeremy asked taking a sip of coffee, singing his upper lip. “My youngest. Bonnie,” the farmer said, tying up his shit-caked work boots. “Okay,” Jeremy said cringing while he felt his lip, “that is so wrong in so many ways I can’t even count.” The old man put a twenty on the nightstand. “She’s not as old as you but has the same round butt that…” “Shamus, zip it. I don’t need to know.” Jeremy was cinching his belt then buttoning the top of his plaid shirt. He put a strawberry-frosted Pop-tart in the toaster, then opened the door for Shamus. Shamus shuffled out, stopped at the door in front of Jeremy, saw that whatever was between them last night had been ushered out with the dawn. The old man’s stubbled face registered sadness, then resignation, as he patted Jeremy’s cheek and descended the trailer’s steep metal stairs clutching firmly to the handrail. Jeremy watched the back of the old man’s red #MAGA cap bob between the carnival trailers. In the morning haze, he watched the red hat pass through the back end of the half-erected carnival rides, through the empty game booths, and finally out the arch into the supermarket parking lot. Few carnies were up yet. He took another cautiously sip of his coffee. The September air was moist, warning of another hot day before autumn broke summer’s hold. The toaster popped, and the intense aroma of strawberries and roasted sugar clung in the air. Better than the cow dung and Old Spice that came with Shamus, he thought. He brought the Pop-tart out with him on the trailer steps and looked at the rising sun through the pink clouds. He tried not to think bad of any of the men that came to see him. They were usually old, married much too young, usually with a kid on the way, and stuck in a marriage that had lasted decades with no end in sight. As he ate the frosted pastry, he got out his ancient iPhone and clicked on the browser to bring up Craig’s list, how he managed to plan his tricks as the carnival went from small town to small town. He was hoping to reconnect with one of the college boys he’d hooked up with last year. It was by accident that he met him, thinking that the guy in the post was lying about his age, saying he had a swimmer’s body, and all the other things men said that turned out to be untrue. The boy turned out to be the real deal, the most gorgeous specimen he’d ever been with. The kid indeed had a swimmer’s body and much more, in anything he’d undersold himself: sandy blond hair, a peach-fuzz mustache, dark blue eyes—how many times did he beat off remembering that face? But the boy also had a monstrous stutter and large gashes on one of his cheeks. But he was also sweet, muscular, a wing-span that didn’t quit, and a bubble butt he could munch on for days. They hadn’t talked much, mostly from the boy’s self-consciousness over his stutter. The oddest thing was he wore a chastity cage, which he was vague, if not right down evasive about. The most he said was that he was into chastity, but it was hard for Jeremy to believe. The entire time the lad had spent in his sling, he’s poor dick was bursting against the metal trap. Jeremy concentrated on his butt in the myriad ways he knew, which was the focus that Ken, Kenneth—something like that—texted him he was interested in when they first made contact. He’d made love to the boy’s butthole alternatingly sweetly then, at times, aggressively. The boy had liked it both ways. There were only a few stops on the year-long carnival schedule he really looked forward to and this town was at the top. He licked the crumbs off his fingers and downed enough now warm coffee to get him through the busy day. He clicked on Craig’s list regional personals. He thought he should plan now since the day the carnival launched in a new town was the busiest it would get except for the tear-down. The tear-down lasted all night, a twenty-two hour day and then a drive to the next town, usually involving plenty of amphetamines provided by Quaretermaine and management. He scanned down to the personals section and found it was gone. He checked out another random region and it was gone there too. It had to be a mistake, some glitch. He wasn’t dependent on turning tricks, but it did help him supplement his living expenses. Without them he’d wind up with the other carnies who were dependent on the measly salary management offered, living in near-destitution in what was infamously called ‘the bunkhouse,’ a converted eighteen wheeler split down the middle, broken up into small spaces which only fit a twin mattress with ten inches of space to spare on each side and a mirrored medicine chest for toiletries next to the door. His life was a steady stream going downhill. There weren’t a lot of job opportunities for ex-felons, but he’d found this one. He’d hit his high when he was thirty years old, working for a start-up wind farm outfit setting up wind turbines all around New England. He was unafraid of heights, having spent summers teaching his little brothers to high-dives off a nearby quarry. Setting up these humongous wind turbines, with blades that stretch a football field in length, there was something meaningful and monumental he was doing, transforming mountaintops, creating renewable energy, powering tens of thousands of houses wherever his company sent him. He made enough money to send back to assist his youngest crazy brother who grew marijuana and lived in a teepee. The dope froze in Vermont’s long winters, but he was happy kid, so there’s that. But for one god-forsaken road trip to Canada to hook-up with a gay couple outside of Montreal, his life could have continued on an upward trajectory. He got up to pee in his miniscule bathroom. He flushed the toilet, washed his face, shaved, then scrutinized himself mercilessly in the mirror. At forty-seven, he’d once been considered attractive, at least his mother had thought so, long, long ago. Unfortunately, so did his father. Even in the midst of middle age, he’d kept slim and still had some of the physique he acquired in the prison weight room. His greying hair kept most of his mousy brown color. His face was slim, gaunt some would say, and had a sharp chin with a big, wide lips. He’d maintained his undetectable positive status ever since he converted, never knowing if it was from sharing needles or unprotected sex, but what did it matter? He caught the bug, but it was under control. There were bags under his eyes this morning from Shamus waking him up all night wanting him to fuck him every which way every couple of hours. He’d finally gotten a straight four hours, from two to six, when Quartermaine had pounded on the side of his trailer. Throughout the day, as usual, he was all professional, worked well with the other carnies and ride operators, the staff at concessions, and all the performers from the Big Top to the Freak Show. Because he wasn’t afraid of heights the Ferris wheel and Hammer ride operators always wanted his help. He made the final electrical connections on the Hammer’s lighting, and still had time to dress his own joint, the ‘knock three dolls down and get a prize’ booth, before the carnival flicked on its lights at exactly three o’clock to begin opening day operations. He brushed out the knockdown dolls’ deceptively long hair and wedged them between the front piece of wood and the hidden backstop that made them next-to-impossible to knock down for some worthless prize that the marks were so eager to get for their girl. But the rubes kept coming and over the last couple of years he’d learned a good bit of patter to keep his joint one of the top money-makers. The couple in Montreal had the usual stupid screen names common for the site he was on: dirtypig4u and VelvetHole. He had their address on his phone with directions; he also had a shit-load of nasty porn on it, which he didn’t really think about as he crossed the Canadian border. He’d just taken a Viagra at a McDonalds down the road as his Subaru pulled up to the first border agent, a young Asian-Canadian woman. She looked bored and asked where he was staying. He said he hadn’t made a reservation but he thought he’d stay in a Montreal hotel. She looked at him suspiciously and told him to pull over to an area at the border patrol offices. He followed her direction and pulled into one of the docks. Two border guards were waiting for him, asking him to get out of his car. They were both nice, respectful, almost apologetic about the delay. The first officer had tattoos covering his arms up to his neck, and the other one was extremely handsome with a close cropped dark head of hair. They were a pleasant distraction until they asked him for any electronic equipment. “Like my phone?” Jeremy asked, a little apprehensive. The handsome one nodded, and he turned over his phone giving him the access code, and warning him that there was porn on it. They asked him to step inside. They then proceeded to tear the car apart end to end. The tattooed agent brought back several bottles of poppers and asked what the bottles contained. He told him the contents, saying feebly that he hoped he’d get lucky. The tattooed guy looked less friendly after that. They were both gone for about an hour leaving him in a benchless waiting area. When they returned they were stone-faced and asked that he follow them. He felt trapped like a mouse in a maze, a maze that had only one path to walk down knowing this wasn’t going to end well. They took him into a windowless room and asked he take off his shoes. He did and the handsome one motioned for him to slide them over to him. He complied as the tattooed agent read him his right and asked if he understood that they were detaining him for suspicion of trafficking in child pornography. His heart stopped. To back up for a second. He’d had a major run-in with the law before stemming from a hunting accident when he was fourteen. Hunting trips with his father always ended up in their two-man pup tent and was always where sexual abuse took place. It had been going on since he could remember and it was never anything he looked forward to. Quite the opposite. He came up with any excuse he could think of to get out of going, but never to any avail. Even his mother put pressure on him to spend some time with his hard-working father who only asked that his oldest son go out the first day of deer season with him. What changed on this particular hunting trip was after his father had finished with him, as he was drifting off after his fourth beer, he started mumbling about how old Jeremiah was getting, and how Jacob, who’d just turn nine, or maybe even better, Jasper, who was six-and-a-half, might enjoy coming with him next year in his place. Jeremy was able to convince the sheriffs, but not his mother, that his father had accidentally taken a bullet to the head as he hid, unseen by Jeremiah, in the brush. It’s possibly she knew what was happening between her husband and son by a million small details but never said a word. She also never said anything to the sheriffs in her home about her suspicions, nothing at the funeral, not a word at the courthouse. Not one word ever. But she never treated him the same after the incident, only found excuse after excuse to keep his younger brothers away from him. She encouraged Jeremy to graduate early, get his electrical engineering certificate his last year in high school, and leave the house the day he graduated. He was not unwelcome in her house, especially around holidays when his brothers begged him to come home, but neither was he especially warmly welcomed. A kiss on the cheek on entering and leaving, a Tupperware of leftovers, but not an inch more of affection than was necessary. So the father-son pornography he’d harvested on his phone was buried deep in his history and his character. The Canadian shrink who interviewed him prior to trial asked him whom in the photos he identified with. He told her the boys, and he argued that he thought none of them were underage. He wasn’t into kiddy porn, he pleaded. But the ages of the kids in the photos were questionable enough, it didn’t matter whom he identified with. Child pornography is child abuse, argued the Canadian Crown Attorney. She wasn’t interested in the psychiatric deposition his attorney tried to put, unsuccessfully, into evidence. So he did his time, labeled a child sexual predator, the lowest of scum in the prison hierarchy, beaten, raped, infected, unemployable once outside, until he found a job at the dime toss booth, turning penny-ante tricks on the side for extra money, sucking off old men who smelled of Brylcreme and Aqua Velva, because they were coming into town for a ‘date’ and having a nice piece of cheap flesh that reminded them of their daughter. He placed the last knockdown doll on the top shelf, secured it in place. He pinched the bridge of his nose feeling a migraine coming on. Now that Craig’s list no longer did personal ads, how long before he took up room in the Bunkhouse? How similar were those eight by twelve foot rooms to the cell he did time in? How much lower could his life go? “Jeremiah was a b-b-bullfrog,” sang a voice behind him. “Hello, B-bullfrog.” Kenworth Paxton. He remembered the name even before turning around. As he spun around, he fretted that he’d aged unrecognizably in the last year, was afraid of being looked at by a creature he remembered being so astonishingly perfect, scarred but perfect in every way. The boy was the same, a little taller maybe, a bit broader in his chest if that were possible, same scars on his cheek, and wet, shoulder-length sandy blond hair, longer than the previous year before. But the length suited him, framed his face, his beautiful imperfectly-perfect face. He came over and leaned on the red lip of his booth, his fingertips just brushing the lad’s. His smile was from ear to ear. He felt an immediate rousing desire in his groin for the young man, but an even stronger desire to just lean there for hours, taking him in. A full year of imagining him and now, here he was, made flesh, even more ideal than what was indelible in his mind. “You look…” Jeremy couldn’t find the words. He noticed drips of water coming off his hair onto his collar. “You look wet,” he laughed. “I c-c-came right after try-tryouts. I’m al-al-alternate goal-goalkeeper this year,” he beamed. “That’s fantastic, man. Congratulations!” Jeremy enthused, clasping his hand, an excuse to hold him, to feel how real he was. He rocked his head acknowledging that he really was here, that he showed up. He didn’t quite know what a goalkeeper was—he guessed soccer—but if the kid was happy, and the smile spread across his face said he was, then so was he. Ecstatically happy. “So how you been?” “G-good,” the young man said, looking at Jeremy hungrily. He looked back at him the same. “So can you come by tonight? Meet me later?” Jeremy’s face clouded for a second, coming down to earth. “Nah, you’ll probably be with all your friends tonight. First night of the carnival and all.” “No. Yeah. I can m-m-meet you,” he said. The kid began to shuffle his feet. “Like is t-t-ten okay?” he blinked hard to spit out his proposition. “Yeah, yeah,” said Jeremy happily. He kept nodding his head practically disbelieving who was before him. The kid was just as happy to see him too, starting to pick up Jeremy’s head bobbing until both of them were bobbing in synch together, very happy to see each other. There was a pause between them, not of awkwardness but a hint at a mutual anticipation for what ten o’clock would hold. “Yeah, ten. Perfect. Here or at my trailer? Yeah, let’s meet at my trailer. You remember which one it is? The green one? Small, has flowers painted under the window?” “Couldn’t forget it,” Kenworth Paxton said. “Best night of my life.” “Best night of your life?” Jeremy noted he hadn’t stuttered. “Best night of my life. That is until tonight, I promise you that.” The kid really seemed to be happy seeing him again. Whenever he allowed himself the luxury of thinking about Kenworth Paxton he figured he’d forgotten him, or got interested in someone else, college flings, but he seemed to have the same connection right now that he had the week he’d been here a year ago. Should he have kept up writing to him? Texting him? That would’ve been presumptuous, weird. The kid was a baby, he was a middle age, part-time hustler who worked as a carnie. What could possibly go wrong? “So, yeah, ten. Okay.” Both their heads were still bobbing. “Bullfrog!” yelled a burly, red plaid shirt-wearing, bearded lumberjack, coming up to Jeremy’s joint. “Hey kid,” he said, noticing their bobbing heads. Then to Jeremy he said, “If I can tear you away, we need you pronto on Big Eli.” “Be right there.” The lumberjack spun on his toe, not before giving the kid another once over, and then headed back to the back lot. “I got to go help with the Ferris wheel...so ten then.” Jeremy wanted to whisk Kenworth Paxton straight back to his trailer and throw his legs in his sling and have at him for the next week straight. Instead, he brushed the boy’s knuckles, and hollered over to Ronnette, his neighbor with a dart throwing booth, if she’s keep an eye out on his junk. She said sure and wiggled her arched brows. He always used the gate at the back of his booth to get out, but today he spontaneously hopped over the booth’s lip next to Kenworth Paxton, to smell him, to size him up. He put his hands on the kid’s shoulder and gave him a tight, quick squeeze. He didn’t care who saw. He cocked a thumb at the rides. “Gotta go,” he said transfixed, not moving. Kenworth Paxton smiled once more, and Jeremy ripped himself away from the spot, and headed to the back lot with a grin he wouldn’t shake the rest of the day. As he stood at the top of Big Eli replacing the Ferris wheel’s burned out neon light, seventy feet in the air, both feet solidly anchored between two beams, overlooking the small town below, the college off in the distance, the green forest hills beyond, standing atop his entire world, nothing, no one remotely as high as him at that moment, he wondered if the kid was still committed to that damn little chastity cage? And if so, how was he going to get it off him? *** Marlon Reznor swaggered down the sidewalk leading the pack. House, that is, Trent van der Haus and Steve Reynolds, head bent under his hoodies, still texting, walked side by side, but not talking. Tommy Derkheim was the only one chirping away behind them all, asking his teammates what they want to do first at the carnival. He thought the Hammer ride should be their first stop, and then maybe the freak show. He was really just excited they’d invited him along. “Freak show,” Steve Reynolds mumbled under his hoodie. House nodded his large head in agreement. Raznor cut through one group of geeky boys and then another group of girls coming back from the fair, giggling, eating cotton candy, one girl’s hair exactly matching its pink color. Raznor stroked his chin fuzz, looked back at Tommy and the diamond their quartet made slicing down the sidewalk. “House of mirrors first,” he said taking out a joint, to which House and Reynolds nodded and Tommy shrugged happily. They finished the joint as they walked through the fair’s archway, passing Dr. Moreau’s House of Curiosities, i.e., the freak show, just as a woman in a flesh-colored bathing suit adorned with shiny dangling bangles, and draped with an albino boa constrictor, was leaving the small stage in front of the tent and a scaly lizard-man was climbing onto it. The bald barker, a large man with a blue tattooed scalp that had a dome of stars and constellations from his chin to the back of his neck etched on his face and head, was in the middle of his patter. “Some applause for the beautiful Misty Morning and her serpent Houdini, who can get into and out of the tightest of places. The girl your friends and neighbors are talking about, with an act with which they can only whisper. Man oh man, she’s got all the things a girl should have, and she’s gonna shake ‘em loose like a bucket of juice!” Misty shook her ample butt with all her bangles jangling before disappearing behind the tent flap. “And Larry the Lizard Man, who suffers the persecution of unjust inequity a man or lizard could endure.” Larry, in a large pair of trousers with a cutout accommodating his large reptilian tail, sat on a stool and stared at Tommy. His split tongue slithered out as it darted out over a mouth that stretched from wide across his jaw. His black diamond-shaped pupils unnerved Tommy and Tommy tugged at Raznor’s shirt wanting to go. “Looks like Lizard Man like our Otter Boy,” Raznor taunted his small teammate. ‘Otter’ was the name the team called him, a name that followed him from his family, where anytime he was in water he was in bliss, a small otter who flipped and spun off diving boards effortlessly, gracefully, playfully, sometimes recklessly in the chances he’d take on a dive. Third string on the water polo team last year, but who’d won enough first and second places at last year’s diving competitions, that he was wholly embraced by the team. Otter was the man! “C’mon, Raz. He gives me the creeps,” Tommy said, trying to act casual but his reedy voice betrayed real distress beneath his plea. Steve Reynolds held his phone aloft and snapped a photo of him and Tommy with the lizard man in the background. Reynolds scrutinized himself in the pic, decided it was good enough to post, clicked share, saying, “I googled it and these freak show lizard-men mostly suffer from extreme ichthyosis. Probably has some body mods like that split tongue. I think we should do the show, maybe introduce Otter to him.” “No,” Tommy begged, pulling on House’s shirt, the only one who never teased him. House made a face of disdain at Reynolds, and led the way to the House of Mirrors. He pulled out a second joint, lit it up and passed it around as they took a circuitous route through a bunch of trailers to get to a ticket booth. House collected money from each of them, and at the House of Mirrors, handed over the tickets to the fun house attendant. A very stoned Reznor, Reynolds, House, and Tommy filed in. Reznor immediately ditched them, whipping around some glass to get away from the group. As the remaining trio wound through the maze, Reznor snuck up on Tommy and jumped him, making Tommy scream and fall into House. Reynolds broke off and went his own way, House went another, and soon the four of them were exploring confusing corridors of reflections and glass partitions alone, laughing and jumping on each other when they reconnected. Sometimes they found each other with a touch, but more often they thought one of them was at an arm’s distance away only to find themselves bumping into glass. At the center was a black room of warped mirrors that made the foursome look lean and tall as giants, others that made them look like dwarves with tiny legs. Tommy and the others laughed at their reflections, knocking each other around the black room, pointing in the mirrors, taking overhead picture on their phones, seeing who could make the most warped photo. Raznor got bored and headed out, then House followed, Reynolds took a third path leaving Tommy behind only for a second. An unseen hand swiveled a pane of glass, cutting Tommy off from his friends. He followed this new path into the back of the ride and watched his teammates in the distance, cutoff first by two rows of glass, then three, then he didn’t see them anymore. He met his reflection, then his reflection’s reflection, then himself reflected until he was surrounded by an army of Tommys, saw himself in every direction and saw nothing but himself. “Guys!” he said loudly as he stumbled through the glass and mirrors. “Guys!” he shouted. He heard the other boy’s laughter dying away, replaced by music from the carousel. There was mist at his feet. Gas climbed slowly up the glass. He coughed and started to feel dizzy and a little faint. He ran through the maze quicker, looking for a way out, looking for some shred of the outside world, but all he saw was more glass, more dead ends, more of himself. He stretched out his hand which pressed against his reflection. His knees buckled under him and he fell. His head pressed against the glass. His cheek ran down a sheet of glass, squeaked the pitch of straining flesh against a slick surface. The oils of his face left a trail of grease as he slid lower, legs tucking lazily under him, head going forward until it hit the House of Mirrors’ floor. Then he fell into a woozy blackness. Barely conscious, he heard the faint music of the carousel, felt hands picked him up, carried him off. A false back wall creaked open, and he disappeared from sight. Hands undressed him as he hung like a limp dolls, placing him in a suit that was much too tight. Someone or something touched his exposed butthole. His butt filled with something cold and wet. Whatever it was soon enveloped him in a warm blanket, made him feel dreamy floating in a dark semi-consciousness, made him acutely aware of his body and of the hard metal cage that locked away his maleness. Tommy came out of a haze feeling exposed, exceedingly relaxed and even more horney. Part of his brain said he should panic, but overall he felt himself drifting somewhere between wakefulness and dozing in twilight. He rested on a padded red leather tabletop, his ass riding slightly higher than his shoulders as he laid crumped on his left arm. Around the red table was a gold rail. To the rail, his wrists and ankles were secured. His skin felt strange, alien, oddly furry. It felt like most of his body was in a tight fitting diving suit. Looking at his arms and back at his legs he saw this suit had a light fur glued to the suit’s skin. His chest, abdomen, and genitals were all him, however, and they rubbed sensually against the red leather. His dick and balls though still were captured inside their metal cage. He looked around. The room was octagonal, all eight sides mirrored. Between each mirrored pane stood a panel of fluorescent lights. Presently, the white tubes flickered on making the small enclosure extremely bright to the point of being almost blinding. Seven of the eight mirrored panes had slot removed at head height, and within the gaps, seven sets of eyes watched him studiously, anonymously. The eighth mirror directly in front of him swerved open and the barker from the freak show, the one with the blue tattooed head of stars, came in and, with a black gloved hand, closed the mirror behind him. The barker addressed the anonymous onlookers behind the mirrors. “Behold, our newest creature, captured for your investigation into nature’s oddities, gentleman. A boy of quality, to be sure. Note his blond fur, the extra vertebrae at his tailbone sporting his diminutive tail. Don’t let his blond coat of young fur mislead you, for he is a special marvel, a naturally born hairy Otter Boy, a small but wild animal which is why we must constrain him to this table. He is the Otter Boy for which you’ve paid to scrutinize. And study every part of him you shall.” It was then that Tommy saw the purpose of the suit he was in. He saw himself in the mirrors in a fur suit that made him look like the water creature, his nickname cruelly turned on himself, the Otter Boy the barker assured the audience he actually was. He tugged at his bindings and found he was not completely immobile but tightly constricted in how much he could move. He tried to speak but found his mouth had a small mask over it, which, when he looked in one of the mirrors, saw they had given him an otter-like muzzle. He blinked at his reflection and recognized the absurdity, the phoniness of the ruse, and how little it seemed to matter. He would have panicked but for the underlying calm his body felt and the stroking the barker was applying to his butt and caged genitals. “Note, too, gentlemen,” continued the barker, “how his sex has been cruelly bound. This must be, because in captivity, kept in his cage, being a young male, all he would do when first captured was to play naughtily with himself day and night. But tonight, for his pleasure and yours, we will unbind the young animal and let him play as I know he will for whomever comes forward with a slight extra token of coin and a deep-seated need to satisfy his curiosity.” A lubed forefinger, cracked and callused, entered his hole causing Tommy to wince. It withdrew and he felt the barker fiddling with the chastity cage’s lock. With a click his cock and balls hung loose. Immediately they were lubed, and were drawn down, massaged, blood squeezed into them making them flush, then beginning, through constant stimulation, to harden. What should have been acute humiliation, so publically on display, was instead erotic, in fact, intoxicating. Tommy couldn’t explain it even to himself. He was a virgin, no male or female had been drawn to him, or he to another. He was cute, undeniably, but shy, reluctant to show any attachment when it came to anyone outside his family. Now after one year spent with his teammates, he was finally opening up to them, though not about his sexuality. This act, this pulling on his hardening phallus, was the first time he’d ever had anyone put a finger or fist on his genitals. He wanted the callused finger inside him again. He didn’t have to wait long. “You will see, gentlemen, our initially reluctant creature is eager to participate. The Otter Boy is a playful pup. Note how quickly he is engorged.” Indeed, Tommy was hard as steel with only a few seconds of stimulation, could easily shoot his wad were the barker not easing up masturbating him. “You will witness for the first time the Otter Boy submitting to penetration.” The barker held up a bulbous glass nob that sparkled in the lights. He poured a thick gelatinous liquid over the rod and some over Tommy’s upturned hole. The viscous liquid was cold and made his hole tweeze shut, only to be stroked by the bulbous rod rubbing up and down his crack. He couldn’t help himself and pushed his butt to receive the rod, and the barker obliged, allowing only a small portion of the instrument to glide smoothly in his hole. It gave him satisfaction beyond his imagination. The glass bulb spread him open to the possibility of something foreign taking over his body, forcing him to open up whether he was willing or not. The barker steadied Tommy’s torso, placing his warm callused palm on the small of his back, and pushed the grass rod in a few more inches. There was something at work in his body that was pushing him to be lewd, to want the whole of the object to be inside him. The barker pulled the object out, showed it to the audience of eyes, demonstrating the length that would soon travel inside the boy. It was not going to be a short journey either. Tommy felt the instrument smoothly spreading open his hole, stretching his tender ass lips, lips that had never had anything touch them in this manner. There was something, however, this time different in the slickness, like a fine sand had been added to the lubricant, something rough and burning just a bit. He looked back and saw the barker surreptitiously sprinkle a white powder on the glass rod. The deeper it went the more it burned. He squeezed his hole to try to block any further penetration but he was in no position to resist, and the bulb stretched his hole open to its widest spot, the skin of his rectum spread so wide the powder came in contact with his whole rectum and made his entire insides light on fire, and like that, snap!, the bulb was in. He had an entire new feeling about the invader. He loved it! He squeezed it to make it go in deeper. He flexed his butt muscles to provoke it to penetrate him as much as possible. The barker took note, raising a hand above the boy’s gyrating bottom, illustrating the transformation from human to unthinking animal. The circle of eyes started bouncing within the slots, eyes squinted, pupils became pinpricks of pleasure within their private booths. The barker returned to stroking the boy’s erection causing Tommy to further pleasure himself, writhing, rutting his pelvis, grinding it into the barker’s fist. “And now,” the barker announced with both of his hands in the air, the white lights turning to green and blue, “the moment you’ve been waiting for, the reason you’ve paid your admission to witness the taboo scene of carnal pleasure, what you were promised and will not see anywhere else, see here with your own two eyes. I give you the forbidden lust between the Lizard Man and the Otter Boy!” In the aquatic light the mirror in front of Tommy swiveled open and the Lizard Man entered with a long scaly erection, split down the middle into two penises. The barker withdrew the glass rod and stepped back into the shadows, while the Lizard Man, his tail dragging along behind him, circled Tommy. Tommy’s eyes were wide and frightened. He knew this was just a man, but the disguise and the drug that was emanating inside his hole, was playing with his mind. He thought the man had contacts to make his pupils into vertical slits but they looked real enough, especially as they expanded and contracted as he came closer to him. The man’s tongue definitely was split as was his dick, and he made the most out of his tongue slithering it in and out of his extremely wide mouth. The man’s thin lips were chapped which only made him appear to have scales entirely over his face right down to the insides of mouth. That serpent tongue entered his ear and made a gushing sound that drowned out his own panicking cries. “Relax,” whispered Larry, the Lizard Man, “It’s just a show for the rubes.” The Lizard Man walked around Tommy’s face, jiggling his spit cocks, going to his other ear, whispering, “It’s a suit just like yours. Act like you’re scared.” Tommy didn’t need to act, he was out-of-his-mind frightened and abhorred at the repulsive creature. The Lizard Man disappeared, but soon he felt a tongue flutter at his butthole. Then the tongue entered him and as revolted as he was knowing the man was eating his hole, his body reacted to the pleasure that he felt. Without wanting to, he nonetheless pushed out his spongy lips so the lizard tongue could go in deep. And deep it did, fluttering and weaving, a rapid in-out, over and over, following the maze that was his colon. How deep could that tongue go? He turned his head but only saw the hideous reptilian snout of the man pressed up to his butt, but he could feel him traveling obscenely fast and unbelievably deep into his yawning cavern. Nothing had prepared him for this kind of invasion that was at once a violation of his body but also as gratifying as itching a scratched non-stop. He shuddered on his hands and knees, wanting the Lizard Man to end this exquisite torture, but feared if it ended, what would happen next. And it did stop, and this happened next: Tommy felt two small hard penises pushing at his hole. The barker spoke softly, while the Lizard Man worked his dicks into Tommy. “As any biologist will tell you, male mammals have only one phallus, which they theorize is due to the fact that embryonically it comes as an extension of the tail or in humans from the tailbone.” With a pop, the Lizard Man’s cocks slithered into his hole, the man’s claws on either side of his butt cheeks pulling Tommy back further onto them. “These same biologists will tell you reptiles, lizards and snakes alike are born with two penises that emanate not from a tail but vestiges of legs. Imagine, gentlemen, double your pleasure, double your fun. Observe the pleasure in the Otter Boy’s face.” Tommy couldn’t believe how much the two dicks were hurting him. One would have been intense enough, but both, were it not for the mask-muzzle over his mouth, he would be screaming for the Lizard Man to stop. The man kept pulling him back deeper on them and he tried to get away, but this tug-of-war only caused the man’s erections to swell harder, putting more pressure on stretching Tommy’s hole wider. And then there was the underlying, but growing, sense of pleasure Tommy was deriving from the penetration. Mix that with the white powder the barker had slid into him, mix that with the humiliation of being ravaged in front of an anonymous public—it made Tommy shake his head in a crazed way that made the onlookers think he was madly enjoying being fucked by this scaly monster. The creature picked up its pace and Tommy instinctively impaled himself harder as he lost himself to the lust of the moment. He flung his ass back wildly trying to take even more of the Lizard Man’s dicks. The split dicks, the hard they got, the more they separated away from each other, the wider Tommy’s hole got spread. He heard a loud hissing behind him and a tongue that was whipping against his neck, then his hole got sprayed with jism that ran down his balls, dripped over his legs, and spontaneously, without touching himself, he came on the table, white spew pooling on the red leather. Larry pulled out, patted Tommy on the head and before exiting the chamber hissed in his ear, “Good show, mate.” “Now, gentlemen, who among you will come forward with an extra coin and a deep-seated need to satisfy his curiosity—who will be next?” One by one, out stepped a local store owner, the town librarian, a bespectacled college professor, a slick-hair barber, a old pharmacist, a greasy auto mechanic, and finally Coach Brandon, all taking turns coming out of their booth and pleasuring themselves inside the Otter Boy, while the Otter Boy pulled on his liberated dick and satisfied himself, time after time, man after man, with his furry paws.

This is what I picture the builder looking like.

True, if you adherence to the meds isn't 95% (the figure my hospital uses) you stand the risk of viral mutation and therefore resistance, but the reinfection thing is so rare: may one person per year globally. The amount of virus in one load is quickly going to be taken out by the virus already there, if you see what I mean. Ten years ago we were seeing reports of guys presenting with virus resistant to drugs x and y: that's happening much more rarely now, largely thanks to the efficiency of the drugs regimes we have now. I boil it down to the statuses poz and unknown: I don't know what you've been up to in the past few weeks, and even after a retest I don't know what you did on the way home from the clinic. "Poz on meds is the new safer sex." A brilliant line which I'm going to steal for UK usage! Thank you Tiger - kisses wherever (and I mean wherever) you want 'em...