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I`ve gotten fucked in the darkroom at the bathhouse I go to. It`s a different type of fuck but still its very good when a guy is pounding my ass good with no intentions of pulling out when he cums. Thats what I`m there for. To get loads deep in my ass. I have staggered out of the darkroom a few times with cum running out of my ass and down my leg. I`m out of breath but I feel so good then to. Also not knowing who fucked me is hot. It`s all about bare dick in my unprotected ass.

Last week I heard from a fuck bud bottom son. He was horny and wanted daddy cock and cum. I went over and he was ass up on the bed. I undressed and got behind him on the bed. My cock rubbing his hole as I was sliding around. I aimed my cock to his hole and slipped inside. He was lubed and ready. As we were fucking I hear footsteps heading upstairs. My boy says “ oh yea, I invited another top dad to breed me too.” I nodded to dad 2 and he undressed , he started stroking his cock as I was fucking ass. Dad 2 went in front to get sucked and boy was spit-roasted. Watching him suck and lick got me close. I shot a nice dad load deep inside. Dad 2 immediately took my place and slid inside. I was stroking and getting hard again. Dad 2 shot a nice load inside with both moaning loudly. Dad 2 gets dressed and thanks boy and leaves! I shoved back inside and ended up shooting 2 more loads deep. Looking forward to more soon!

Not sure if I posted about it, but recently got seeded by a 63 yo guy with an amazing 8.5 uncut cock. We met at a cheap hotel as he said he was staying with someone. Yesterday he hit me up saying he wanted to seed me again, and he showed his host pics from when we fucked before, and his host wanted to breed me too at his place. His host was a good 7 and cut, probably the same age. 63 yo dumped his load in me first. His host immediately put his cock up me as soon as the first pulled out. I was still in the doggy position, and the 63 yo presented his cock for me to clean while the other fucked me. Don't let stats get in your way of having fun! Both were great fucks!

Get manual cylinder pumps. (Start small and wait till they begin to really show with the small 15mm cylinders) pump them at least twice a week and leave them in for 30mins minimum play with them daily just twisting/rolling your tits between fingers for 10 mins each day to build them up. mine took about 4 months to be decent and probably a year before they were as big as they are now (permanently

While still pressed against and inside Jason, Dean scoops up some cum on Jason’s drenched stomach with one hand and uses it as lube to relentlessly stroke Jason’s still unnaturally hard dick. His other hand grips Jasons balls and sack and stretches them down, loosening his balls. Jason repeatedly yanks hard on the chains and moans in pain and pleasure. My dick is also still rock hard and bounces on Carls face as he washes his dripping spit off my balls and taint with his mouth. My ass is still clenched around the random fingers probing my insides. It all feels so good, I don’t stop Carl or the hand while I process what’s happened to Jason. AIDS?! WTF.. but what can I do now..? After a moment Dean starts to massage the remainder of Jason’s cum up and down Jason’s stomach, chest, and thighs. Jason’s still breathing heavy and flinches as Dean passes over his nipples. Jason’s says as his voice breaks to flinch when his nipples are touched “wow - Dean - it feels so good. I’ve never cum hands-free. I can still feel you throbbing inside me… Tom, if you can hear me, I want you next.” The crowd is closing in around us. All that’s visible in the dim light on Jason are hands stroking dicks over and around his muscular furry stomach and lower body. Dean smiles at me and slowly leans back, away from Jason. We both watch his hard thick tan-skinned shaft slowly slide out of Jasons stretched hole. Jason inhales loudly. Once his dick is fully free, his foreskin rolls forward and covers his dicks cummy head. Jason’s open raw hole attempts to close and a white globs leak out. Dean grabs my shoulders and positions me behind Jason. I shuffle with my pants and boxers around my ankles. Dean remains right behind me, looking over my shoulder. I feel his warm wet and dangerous dick resting on the top of my ass crack and his breath on my neck and ear. Without thinking, as I do when I’m fucking my own 2nd load into Jason, I lube my dick head with the cum leaking out of him. Dean whispers in my ear “Good boy, fuck my AIDS babies into him.” My dick flexes involuntarily. A pale hairless chubby blond guy stroking his 6” veiny pink uncut dick over Jason groans loudly and unloads a surprisingly large amount of thick creamy nut directly on Jasons stiff dick and sweaty hairy stomach. Carl, now standing on the side of Jason scoops some up and uses it as lube to softly stoke Jason. Jason flinches and his mouth hangs open as he exhales “uhhh”. My dicks head start to sink into Jason’s hole. I slide in with ease and feel how silky and clearly drenched his insides are. I pull back a little and see my shaft covered with streaks of Deans cum. I rock deeper into him and think about Deans dangerous AIDS sperm invading his insides and I don’t know why but I feel the urge to try to pound it as deep in him as I can. I pull Jason onto me harder and feel my dick start to breach his 2nd chamber. The chains rattle and he moans. When my ass rocks back, I feel Deans cum-slick dick sliding between my cheeks and barely nudge my hole. I’ve never bottomed but this feels surprisingly good. I grab onto Jason’s beefy furry thighs and go on autopilot pounding harder with each thrust. Carl’s hand is now stationary and Jason’s swinging body fucks it. We're all dripping with sweat and I taste the salty BO, cum, and ass in the air. I look down again at my dicks shaft slide in and out of Jason. His hole’s hair sticks to my shaft and has a white cum froth forming around it. Dean must’ve deposited a massive load. Dean reaches around me, grabs the slings chains and presses his wet body against mine. I feel his fat dick head start stretch my hole and he growls in my ear “Oh that’s it, work it deeper into your boy.. I’m getting close to breeding you, too.. you want it don’t you.. tell me and I’ll give it to you.” His tip has now worked its way in me. I keep fucking Jason and Dean slides deeper. “Tell me..” His breath starts to become irregular and I now he’s close. Jason cries out, yanks on the chains, push his ass into me like he does when he’s going to cum. Dean forces his dick all the way inside me and takes control fucking me and pushing me into Jason, hammering my prostate. I groan almost uncontrollably “I want it…” and feel like submitting to him. Dean rams hard and stops balls deep in me and says in my ear while flinching “I’m cumming right now - feel my load. You’re mine now.” I feel his dick pulse and swell inside me, coating my insides with his infected cum. His body shakes and he thrusts his hips and digging his dick farther. My dick erupts as deep inside Jason’s ass as I’ve ever been. His sphincter clenches down on the base of my dick repeatedly as he spurts and moans. Carl doesn’t stop jacking him and puts his mouth on Jason’s dick head to catches as much of it as he can. Jason cums more than I’ve ever seen. Dean stays pressed up against me, breathing hard into my ear as we come down from the climax. I feel his dick still throbbing in me, as is was with Jason the first round. He says in his deep gruff voice “I always have big loads and will be in you for the night. Welcome to the club.” He slowly pulls out of me and quickly inserts two of his rough fingers into my loose raw wet hole with ease “mm I can’t wait to breed you studs again.” I lean forward and give Jason a long kiss as my dick finally starts to deflate and fall out of him. Deans pulls fingers out of me and I feel some of his cum trickle down my inner thigh. As we make out a few random hands pat me on my back and as a guy says “Great job boys. Welcome.” On our way out Dean discretely slips his card in my pocket and whispers in my ear to text him. I’m not sure if Jason saw, but I nod. As we exit the club, hidden under my cloths my entire body is sticky and my asshole is slick. I feel intoxicated and even more horny in this state. Jason still doesn’t know what’s in him and I’m not sure he know’s I got bred, but I imagine his body feels the same way - still full of two massive loads. As soon as we get into our apartment I tear his cloths off and fuck another load into him before we pass out all entangled and sweaty.

I hung out with my friend and we just went to dinner then chiiled afterwards. We weren't planning on hooking up so neither of us took our prep. We started talking about sex and i decided to show off my smooth hole to him in my living room while chilling. He liked what he saw and came over to rim me. We decided that he'd give me a quick breeding, just jerk off and insert his cock head into me before filling me up. When he was shooting his load into me, i couldn't help but to pull him closer even though neither of us were on prep. I love the feeling of his raw cock inside.

Stepping back from the human factor at the border with my post here. The US sends planeloads of money south of the border to try and support and bolster struggling countries, in the hope of making them stable and allowing their citizens to live and work without fear or in hunger. The only problem is so many of the leaders of those countries divert much of the funds to either themselves, or to enrich other elites in the country. So the working class are not getting the benefits intended, and risk their lives; and their children's lives, trying to get to the US . As much as those of us on here may think our country is headed in the wrong direction or has so many problems, ask any of the people desperate to come here, to work here, and to see their kids grow up here- they see it as paradise. So why not call the President of Mexico, and let him know his country allowing all these people to pass thru their borders and head to the US border is causing the US problems and expenses. And starting in 1 week, for every person detained at the US border with them trying to cross, the US funds to Mexico will be slashed by $5,000 , $20,000 if they are Mexican citizens. And send the same message out to each of the countries where we provide financial grants and support, with a similar penalty of say $20,000 a head for their citizens stopped, and any that transited their country will cost them as well. If the leaders want to keep their lavish lifestyles,courtesy of the US loans and grants, it will be important to them to stem the flow. Make them put the coyotes out of business. Make them interdict and turn the lines of people around and sent back to their country. BUT- the US has got to also open up real discussion about immigration reforms.Set quotas for how many may emigrate from each country. Process and filter those who would be an asset to our nation from those who are questionable. But do it in THEIR country, closer to their home, where rejection does not leave them stranded in another country. And make it punitive for anyone to just show up at a border without prior immigration intake and approval. Punitive as in, arriving at the border without documents- refused, and a 5 year ban on reapplying. To inhibit the attempt to slip in , any undocumented caught inside US borders would be on a 10 year ban, and the country they came from would be docked $50,000 from US Aid money. I am sure stiffer penalties and fines for any repeated attempts could be fleshed out. But I doubt very many would try when faced with the repercussions back home. We do need labor, in chicken processing plants, farm fields, hotels, construction, etc. that a lot of immigrants, legally entering or not legally entering, work in once here. Often in conditions and with wages that we would almost consider almost slave like--but these folk are so desperate; and grateful for work and money, they do them. With honest reforms, these folk should be able to apply at a US Immigration office within their own country, not forced to a barbed wire fence 1200 miles away begging for entry. The money they give to coyotes to get them across the trek could better be used as their seed money to get a flight to the country, proper intake and a plan for where they will be, a work permit and tax ID, and a requirement of steady employment which the tax ID would be used to verify. And put an apple at the end of the process. No gaps in work, no criminal record in the initial 10 years would permit them to apply for US citizenship.

Staying in a hotel last night, i woke up for some reason at 4am... thought I'll take a look at grindr before I go back to sleep and a blank profile nearby messaged 'good morning'. My grindr profile has a pic of my ass with tags like anon, rough, etc so it's pretty clear what I want. After a few messages to and fro he sent a pic - nice hairy chest, a bit bear, and good looking cock. He asked if I was up for a visitor. I thought what the hell and said yes, thinking it would be an early morning quickie. We agreed that I'd leave the hotel room door open with may ass up on the bed ready. He asked for the bathroom light to be on.. so there was a bit of light but still pretty dark. I was wrong about the quickie 😅 after a solid 10 minutes or so eating my hole and getting it nice and wet he drove his hard cock in really slowly, which felt great... then fucked me pretty much non-stop for nearly 2 hours. A couple of times he paused to rest a bit and turned me on my side, while we chatted a bit spooning. His hard cock still deep in me. Then back to fucking. Eventually, I had to say "man my ass is getting tired' (i know, I couldn't believe I would ever say such a thing!) so he blew the huge load he had ready and we finished up. After he left, I felt like I'd been gang-banged, my ass was so well used. I showered and then took a pic of my worn-out man-pussy... still feeling sore and great this evening 😜

Not a known side effect of the drugs in Truvada. If the appearance of the symptom coincided with starting PrEP, here are possible connections you might want to get checked: 1. If you are taking blood thinners or medications or supplements that can have blood thinning effects, the Truvada might be boosting their effect because of a drug interaction. This group includes (in additional to actual blood thinners like warfarin and coumarin) a lot of common painkillers like aspirin, ibuprofen, and naproxen, as well as St. John's Wort. 2. It is possible (though not likely in this timeframe IMO) that the PrEP is causing issues with your liver or kidneys and the bruising is a side effect of that. You should be getting regular blood work to monitor for liver or kidney issues, though. If you are, I wouldn't worry about this one. Of course, it is also possible that it is something completely unconnected that just happened to kick in about the same time. Disclosure: I'm not a doctor or medical professional, I just know a lot about it; you should get medical advice from those people in preference to stuff you find on the internet.

I think the increase in willingness to bareback is due to a couple of things: Lots of guys are on PrEP now and do not care about your status. Younger guys now only understand HIV/AIDS in an abstract way; most of them cannot remember when guys were dying left and right.

Dark room fucks are my favourite, they well suit my slutty nature and wild imagination, plus I get the most fucks and cum loads in any session. As you can't see them your mind runs riot as to who's fucking you and even if the guys might be very different from the reality as long as they can fuck you'll enjoy the fuck(s) far more by letting your imagination take over. And as they can't be seen guys often get quite verbal. Really there's nothing hotter than being fucked by a horny top who knows you're a dirty cum slut while surrounded by other naked guys as they feel you up then the sensation of their body (hopefully) spasm as they cum in you while you're pinned down, and your fuck hole leaking cum as they pull out before another cock slides inside you to happily fuck in other guys' cum. I'll stay in a dark room as long as I can but after taking multiple cocks I will eventually involuntarily cum.

I went to Lord Clyde in South London last Wednesday for their nude evening. They have a dark room which was relatively new. I'd hooked up with sexy top and we'd fucked but he hadn't cum. I took him into the dark room where I could just about make out a handful of other bodied there. He fucked me and loaded me rather noisily (but in a good way!). As he pulled out I felt hands over my arse cheeks and fingers in my hole. Before I could say or do anything I had another cock in my arse. And after that another. And after that another. I wad dripping cum when I walked out.

Dark room sex is number one on my sleazy list. Your entire body is up for grabs and I fucking luv that.

Part 1 It was going to be a great day! I had just turned 18 two days ago, I was graduating from high school in the afternoon and I was going to a huge party that night with my girlfriend Emily, my best friend Paul, and his girlfriend Linda. First let me tell you about myself. My name is Caleb. I’m the youngest of four boys in a very religious and close family. I was home schooled until high school and then went to a high school operated by our church. I guess you could call me the nerdy type. I am 5’11’’, I weigh about 160 pounds, . My hair was blond and shaggy. I loved to swim so I guess I had what you would call a ”swimmers build”. My girlfriend Emily said most girls thought I was cute, in a “nerdy” way. Emily was my age and we had been seeing each other all through high school. Emily was very pretty. We both were religious and never took our relationship beyond the handholding and occasional kiss phase. We both believed that any sexual contact should remain off limits until we married. We were very naïve about the real world. Paul was my best friend. We had known each other since we were little kids and were inseparable. If I was a nerd, Paul was a “super nerd”. He is about 5’6’’ and weighs 130 pounds. He has a pale complexion with shaggy red hair. Paul even wears the typical thick rimmed glasses. Paul could easily be mistaken for being 13 or 14 years old. Paul’s girlfriend Linda is very shy. I don’t think they had even held hands let alone kiss. They both are even more naive than Emily and me, if that is possible. I have always considered myself total straight and never even thought about "fooling around" with a guy. It was against what I believed and besides I was saving myself for Emily. Tonight was going to change our lives in so many ways and I we were completely unaware. All four of us were graduating together, so after our graduation ceremony, Emily and I met up with Paul and Linda and we attended receptions put on by our parents and by 9:00 pm it was time to head to the party. We were all nervous but excited about the party. Many kids from our class were attending and we knew there would probably be alcohol and maybe more available there. Paul and I had only snuck a few beers in our life and both of the girls had never tried alcohol. Linda said she would go but would not drink but the rest of us had decided to have fun and celebrate our “big accomplishment”. The party was taking place at a remote farm about ten miles from town. When we arrived there were dozens of kids already partying, many from our school and many I didn’t recognize. The farmhouse was huge and there was a very large swimming pool and hot tub in the backyard along with many picnic tables. There was a huge bonfire in a fire pit. Everybody had contributed money to attend so there was beer, liquor, soft drinks and food. All four of us had packed bathing suits and we noticed nearly everyone there was already in their suits and enjoying the pool and hot tub on a very warm night. We went inside to change and were directed to two bedrooms in the back. The house was beautiful and I was surprised anyone would let such a party take place in it. When we got outside after changing I asked around about who owned the home. I was told it was two former graduates from another local school who were great football players and had even played in the NFL before getting hurt. They were now successful businessmen and agreed each year to allow the party on their property. Their only stipulation was that no one leave drunk and that they be allowed to join the party later in the evening. A friend of Emily’s led us back into the house and showed us a picture of the two owners. They were both stunningly handsome shirtless black men appearing to be in their early-forties. They were both about 250 pounds of solid rippling muscle. They looked like Greek gods. I heard Emily gasp when she saw the picture. “They are beautiful”, she whispered. I thought it odd that these two men would own the house together, but I didn’t pursue the matter further. We went outside and found the beer and alcohol and the three of us grabbed a beer and headed to the pool. The beer was flowing fast and furious and Paul and I matched each other drink for drink. We were definitely feeling the effects About an hour had passed when we heard the owners had arrived along with a nephew of one of the guys. A few minutes later they appeared: all three were shirtless and wore basketball shorts. Their photographs didn't do them justice. My school didn’t have any African American students, so we had little exposure to black men. They were the most beautiful men I had ever seen. Jordan was the biggest and appeared to be in his early forties. His muscles seemed to pop from his body. Emily commented that his thighs were bigger than my waist. He had closely cut hair and an incredibly handsome face. He had only one tattoo I could see. It was an odd design around his navel. James appeared to be about the same age but wasn’t as big but he had a perfectly defined chest with an eight pack of abs and the same odd tattoo. He had his hair in dreadlocks. Aaron, who turned out to be Jordan’s nephew was about in his early 20’s, swimmers build like me and the face of a model. He too had the same tattoo. We were introduced to them and they seemed very interested in us. Jordan put his arm around me and James put his arm around Paul and asked if we were having fun. We looked so small next to them but they really seemed to like us and we talked for a while. Aaron meanwhile seemed to really be interested in Emily which was making me jealous but I knew she was not going to screw up our relationship. Linda just stood and watched as we all talked. After a few minutes, Jordan suggested we all go to the hot tub. We all grabbed beer and headed over. The hot tub was huge. It could easily handle 20 people and there were about 10 people in there. We climbed in and Jordan made sure to sit next to me and James next to Paul. Aaron got there a few minutes later and maneuvered himself in next Emily. Linda said she didn’t feel good and said she was going to lie down in the car. After a few minutes somebody brought out a bong, a device of which I had heard, but never actually before seen. Everybody in the tub started passing it around and taking “hits” off it. When it came to me, Jordan showed me and Paul and Emily how to do it. I took two hits and suddenly I was feeling pretty relaxed. The marijuana and the beer were really making me feel good. I leaned back and suddenly felt Jordan put his hand on my leg. I couldn’t see it because of the foam in the tub but it felt massive and he slowly began rubbing my upper thigh. I looked over at Paul and could tell by the look on his face that James was doing the same to him. Jordan then reached under the water and grabbed my hand and placed it on his massive thigh. You could feel the muscles under his smooth skin and I began to rub him. I saw Jordan look at James and wink. get his backpack from the house. Aaron asked Emily to go so they could bring back more beer and she agreed. As soon as they left, Jordan yelled “It’s time to party!” He shifted in the water and then next thing I knew he was holding his shorts in his hand and tossing them out on the grass. James removed his shorts immediately as did several other guys and girls in the pool. James turned to Paul and me and said “What about you two?” Neither of us made a move so they took action. They reached down and grabbed us by our waist and lifted us with one hand while stripping our suit with the others. The next thing I knew I was back in the tub totally naked with Jordan’s massive arm around me. I looked over at Paul who looked totally in shock and appeared to be sitting on James’s lap. Aaron showed up at that moment, but Emily had remained back at the house to use the bathroom. Jordan reached in to the pack and pulled out two bottles and tossed one to James. They took the covers off and put it up to our nose and said breath it in. I did twice and felt like I was flying. I felt Jordan put his hand on my stomach and slowly rub me. He moved his hand down to my penis and took it in his hand. I realized then that I was getting hard. He pressed his face against my neck and began nipping it with his teeth. I moaned slightly and when I did he turned my face to his and I kissed a man for the first time in my young life. His tongue played with my tongue and without thinking I reached up and wrapped my arms around him. I heard a moan from behind and saw Paul lying with his head on James’s shoulder. It was obvious that Paul was being touched under the water and was enjoying it. Suddenly I felt something brush my leg. I reached and felt his penis for the first time. It was massive. I couldn’t imagine a man having a penis that large. Jordan smiled and stood up. I was face to face with penis at least 10 inches long but its width was stunning. There was a large metal ring piercing the tip of it. I didn’t think such a thing was possible. I heard several people in the tub as well as some people who were now watching the four of us, gasp when they saw it. “Taste it!” he told me. I obeyed and opened my mouth. It was so big I could barely get it in but Jordan slowly helped me taste my first penis. “Your turn baby” I heard James say and I turned around to see Paul licking the tip of James’s penis. James was not as massive as Jordan but was longer. He had to be at least 13 to 14 inches long. Paul was mesmerized by it all. They both grabbed the poppers bottles again and took a hit of their own. Then they shoved the bottle under our nose and we both inhaled. I knew then that I was really starting to enjoy this and wasn’t going to try and stop whatever was happening. Suddenly we were both picked up by our two Greek gods and carried to a picnic table. I felt so small in his huge arms as he carried me. His body felt warm against mine and I reached and rubbed his muscled chest. He pulled me tight against him and began to kiss me again. I opened my mouth to let his tongue in. Aaron, who was also now naked, was there at the table spreading a blanket on it. We were both placed gently on table next to each other.

It can be a fun ice-breaker Are You an Extrovert or Introvert? While we tend to identify with either the introspective introvert or the outgoing extrovert, figuring out where you fall on the personality spectrum isn’t always that simple so here are a few characteristics of each to help you understand yourself, friends and lovers better: Some characteristics of an introvert include: You’re a natural listener. You enjoy alone time. You avoid conflict. You consider things carefully. You’re creative. Some characteristics of an extrovert include: You enjoy working in a group. You’re always up to try new things. You can be impulsive. You like to talk through problems. You make friends easily. Nothing is set in stone and you can be a mixture of the two maybe a introvert by day at work and extrovert night Look forward to hearing your thoughts guys Have a great week Carlos 😀

1. Apt #5C He was drenched. Dripping. The rain let up two blocks from the address he held in his hand, but too late. He was already soaked. Shoes squished climbing the stoop. Manetti/Prior, written in faded blue ink on yellowed masking tape, ink running in splotches, evidence of at least a year exposed to weather—rain, snow, cold; now heat and steamy humidity, even now near midnight—but those words he could make out. The second, his and his brother's last name. There was a stack of buttons each with tape next to it, each with a name or names next to hard, rusty buttons. Manetti is who he wrote to the second time, the time he asked if he could come out and stay with him, with them. The first time he wrote to his brother directly, but Manetti, Mike Manetti, answered for his brother. He wrote he didn't know where his brother was. He thought he might have gone back to his mother’s house in Long Beach. Back to California. Chris pushed the button. There were only quiet sounds of a summer Tuesday night in New York. Except for a cab slowly prowling down the street, the block was abandoned, desolate. A fire hydrant left open poured into the summer street. The cab's tires slushed through the puddle and drove off into the night. The facades of the streetscape was dreary, few building’s windows lit, most were boarded up. The one next to this building had a big 'Condemned' placard on the door. A movement in a trashcan at the bottom of the stoop. A rat emerged setting the lid ajar. A couple of needles lay on top of black garbage bags inside. No, he wrote to Manetti, his brother Ben hadn't come back to California. He, Chris, Ben's younger brother, lived in Long Beach with his mother—well, had lived with her, he wasn't exactly getting along with her at the moment—well, her boyfriend actually, which is why he was trying to get a hold of his brother. The letter he sent back to Manetti was rambling. He didn't have a place to live. His mother didn't actually ask him to leave, but every morning, usually at the bathroom, Carl, his mother's new boyfriend, posed, arm on door frame, menacingly in his heavily sweat-stained underwear, pee stain in the crotch. Chris would squeezed passed him. Every day it seemed Carl took up more and more of what was left of the space in the doorway, inched his underwear's yellow bulge closer and closer to him. The day he wrote to Manetti, he felt desperate. He had felt Carl's body heat as he passed under his arm, felt a wisp of his chest hair, a brush on his shoulder from Carl's black, musky pit. He felt Carl's wetness linger on his shoulder, his residual stink. Could he crash with them? He'd pay his way. He couldn't stay at home any longer. Please, he implored in his letter. Yes, Manetti wrote back. A single word. So Manetti. The door buzzed and Chris leaned into its weight as the bolt unlocked. After receiving Manetti’s reply, Chris, a month shy of graduating high school, stopped at his house to pick up some clothes. For the last couple weeks he was crashing in the back seat of his best friend's Impala. His mechanics job at the Chevron gas station where he worked after school and on Saturdays didn't pay enough for him to afford an apartment, but he had saved enough for a one way ticket to New York. California didn't seem to want him, and living in a car’s back seat wasn't living. Carl was a growing menace that was about to boil over into...he didn't know what. And didn't want to know. The type of menace in Carl’s eyes he was unfamiliar with. Abuse, yes. His own father was brutal to him and his brother sometimes. But there was something else he felt in his gut with Carl. Maybe lower than his gut. It stirred some excitement, but he wanted to get away from it before he knew exactly what its root was. Inside, the hallway was lit by a flickering fluorescent bulb. Two dogs barked in an apartment down the hall. There should have been two bulbs in the ceiling fixture, but one was flickering its way out. The halway was dim, full of shadows. A rickety staircase filled half the narrow corridor. He climbed five floors, each landing a bit dingier than the last, heavier in graffiti as he climbed. On the top floor landing it was nearly pitch black, but a door stood open a crack and a shadow draped in a flimsy robe hovered in the door frame. "You Chris?" a deep voice asked. Chris set his gym bag down at the landing and said yeah, catching his breath. He felt his heart beating. There was a momentary fight or flight response he was trying to suppress. He hadn't expected that he'd be fearful upon arriving at his brother's apartment, but his brother wasn't here. Just Manetti. Manetti moved a little forward, enough so the apartment's light spilled over his broad shoulders, put a halo in back of his long brown hair. Chris made out teeth, a bit of a smile. Manetti extended his hand and the two shook. “Manetti. Mike Manetti.” His grip was firm but the skin soft, a little clammy. "And your Ben's little brother Chris. C’mere!" Manetti pulled him forward, gave him a warm friendly bear hug. Chris could have stayed there in that embrace forever. There was a familiar smell to him. And strength. He hadn't expected it, but he suddenly felt relief; his worry and a continent-wide anxiety melted in that embrace. Manetti released him and looked him over. "Dog shit day out there, Chief. Thunderstorm didn’t even help. Looks like it got you bad. Get in here and take your wet sneaks off." Chris saw the robe was open and that Manetti was naked underneath. He caught a quick view of Manetti' dark hairy torso, thick uncut cock, donkey balls dangling between two muscular, wooly legs. He opened the door for Chris while at the same time knotted up his robe. Chris carried in his gym bag, his few pitiful things: gym clothes, another pair of worn jeans, two old t-shirts (The Romones, Adidas), underwear (dirty), socks (smelly). Manetti closed and bolted the door. Three separate locks snapped into place. "Sorry, I was thinking about going out. Didn't know if you'd get here tonight. It's pretty late." "No, yeah. Sorry." Chris was pretty quiet generally. Didn't like to talk. Always self-conscious of saying something dumb, a leftover from an over-critical father. He looked around at the filthy kitchen—sink full of dishes, ashtray full of butts, dark grimy windows—not much different from home, actually. It was kind of reassuring in a perverse kind of way. Manetti was giving him an intense examination in the kitchen light. He felt he needed to say something to distract from his self-consciousness. "Um, I waited a long time for the bus in Newark. And then I walked to the East Village from the bus station. Lot farther than I thought. I wasn't prepared for rain. Didn’t bring an umbrella. Didn’t really think I’d need one. Dunno why. Guess I'm an idiot." His voice trailed off. Usually he never even said that much. That was [robably more than he'd said in a week. He was nervous, a little frightened, and yet glanced up several times to get a better look at Manetti. “Sorry, I’m going on like a moron. I’m tired I guess. It’s been a long day.” "I can see that," Manetti said, ruffling Chris’ wet hair. “Take your things off and hang them on the window bars. Let ‘em dry out." Manetti picked up Chris' gym bag and tossed it next to the archway to the next room. The kitchen window had retractable bars. It was set at an angle to the building, faced a brick wall and shadowy darkness beyond. Chris looked up and gave Manetti a quick smile, then concentrated on kicking off his shoes. He peeled off his socks and shirt, hanging them through the diagonal bars. A light from across the airshaft flashed. The flash blinded him for a second, and maybe it was a residual image imprinted on his retina, but he thought he saw an outline of a figure lurking in the gloom across the airshaft. "Pants," said Manetti, snapping his fingers. It almost felt like an order, but Chris didn't seem to mind. He was, though, a little embarrassed especially because Manetti was so big compared to him. He looked like some of the dockworkers he'd seen in the port of Long Beach. Big and burly, a little intimidating. He felt the man's eyes running over his thin frame. He felt small, miniature even, in this tiny kitchen. His pant legs dripped on the linoleum but Manetti didn't seem to care. He sat down at the dinette table in his threadbare underwear, setting his back to the window, putting his folded hands in his lap. "Is the bag all you brought?" Manetti nodded to his gym bag. "Yeah, not much, right? I'm not used to packing. Never really gone anywhere. I didn't have no time. Just picked up what was on my floor." Chris noticed the robe had fallen open again revealing one of Manetti's dark, hairy thighs. He quickly looked around the kitchen. "Bathtub?" he said surprised that there was a bathtub in the kitchen. It sat right smack in the middle of the kitchen, dividing the room essentially in two. Didn’t know how he could have missed it when he first walked in. A metal top that doubled as a counter lay on top of it. "Yeah, it’s pretty common in these old walk-ups. Hey, you want some soup or something? I have some left over. Just need to heat it up." Chris nodded eagerly. He hadn't realized just how starving he was. He had a cheese sandwich on the plane but that was hours ago. Manetti was nice, he thought. His furtive glance took in his deep set brown eyes and thick black brows over a smooth forehead. Long brown hair and sideburns. It was weird his brother never spoke about his roommate. "How do you know Ben?" he asked. Manetti went to the fridge and took out a pot and started warming it up on the stove. "Met at a bath house last winter. Took pretty quickly to each other. He fucked me, then I flipped him. We did that all night. Didn’t hook up with anyone else. That night anyway. Then I moved in here with him a week later." Manetti gave him a once over to gauge his reaction as he stirred the soup. Then he added, "You don't really look like brothers." Chris was surprised by how frank Manetti was about being gay, especially that part about the bath house. We wished he could be that bold. "We're step brothers. My dad adopted him when he was sixteen, but that didn’t work out," Chris said. Chris stopped himself from saying more. He listened to the spoon stirring in the pot. It was pretty common for people to say, that they didn’t look alike. He had thin blond hair, almost white, parted on the side, was skinny and on the short side. He liked wearing his hair shoulder-length, whereas his brother had almost a lion’s mane of thick dirty blond hair he always wore in a ponytail. It was one of the first things he could recall, Ben's ponytail. Ben was tall, athletic, broad chested, ten years his senior. They both had their mother’s wide face and striking blue eyes, but that’s where the similarity ended. Ben ruled any room he was in. People flocked to him. He was magnetic. Chris was a loner, shy. Not the brightest bulb, said he dad endlessly. But he was resourceful, could figure stuff out. He was a pretty decent mechanic without ever having any real training besides a semester in shop class. It was the one 'A' he ever got. His mother tried to shield him from his father, but she had her own demons and wasn’t always there for him. So he retreated. To his room, or the back of his friend's Impala, and now to a red Formica kitchen table sitting in his wet underwear with his hands folded in his lap. He looked at the refrigerator across from him. A magnet held up by a photo of Manetti and Ben, arms around each other’s shoulders, standing in knee-length bathing suits on a balcony that looked out at the sea. Chris wondered where they were? Manetti looked a few years younger, had shorter hair and wore a huge goofy smile. He looked a little stoned. Ben's deep tan set off his blue eyes; they almost glowed. He looked happier than he ever did growing up. It must have been breezy because his long ponytail flew like a kite behind him. Chris stared at it while his soup heated up. He idolized his brother. Worshiped him really. Many times after his father had given him a bad spanking, he’d sneak into Ben’s room, into his bed, and silently fall asleep on his chest refusing to shed a tear. He did cry, though, wept inconsolably really, when Ben said he couldn’t stand their house anymore and shouted he was moving to New York. Manetti tested the soup with a loud slurp. His mother demanded to know why New York. He'd met someone in a bar, Ben said, who'd offered him a job. What kind of job do you get offered in a bar? shouted his step father, but Ben was storming out the door raising a middle finger. “When’s the last time you saw him?" Manetti asked. "He’s changed some, you know,” he said. "He's not that Long Beach surfer you used to know." In the photo Chris saw Ben had added a bunch of tattoos. A big dragon crawled over his right shoulder, it's tail re-emerging over his ribs. He saw his brother wasn't that slim teenage surfer he once was either. He was a lot more bulked up, even handsomer if that was possible. "Ben moved out right when he turned eighteen. Hated my dad. Can't blame him. My dad was pretty much of a dickhead. He was okay to me except for my whoopings. He tackled him one time, tried beating the shit out of him, and Ben wailed on his so hard my mom called the police." Chris caught himself as Manetti eyed him. He didn't like to talk about his family’s problems—not to the school counselor, and never to strangers. He rarely did talk about them, didn't even really like to think about them especially. Manetti filled a soup bowl, grabbed a spoon from a drawer, and set it in front of him. "Yeah, I've seen him loose it. He's pretty awesome. You want a towel? You're still dripping," he said. Chris nodded and dug into the soup. Manetti popped out and then returned with a large terrycloth towel. The soup was full of large chunks of vegetables and warmed his stomach. He took the towel and mopped his head, then draped it over his shoulders. For the first time in as long as he could remember—weeks? months?—he was beginning to relax. He wasn't used to someone being nice to him. Especially someone he didn't know that well. After his dad left, his mom had turned into a basket case. And now, any day with Carl in the house was like walking through a minefield; made his dad seem like Gandhi. He must have been scowling into his soup because when he looked up, Manette said, "You Prior boys are so serious, aren't you?" Manetti flashed him a warm smile, which he shyly returned, then went back to shoveling spoonfuls of soup. "In your letter you said you haven't seen my brother in two weeks,” Chris said between bites, keeping his eyes in the soup bowl. “Ain't like him to just disappear. He’d split for a time but would always come back. Know where he’s at?" Manetti sat across from him, reached in the ashtray and took out a half-burnt joint. He lit it and took a long drag and looked up at the ceiling. He exhaled, thought for a moment before offering it to Chris. Chris put down his soup, pinched the joint, and took a short toke. He exhaled, said thanks, handed it back and went back to his soup. "Well,” said Manetti thoughtfully. “Chris Prior..." He paused, taking a long hit, taking an even longer time to reflect before exhaling. "...Ben Prior, or Big Ben, as he's called, disappears from time to time. So do I. I didn’t want to get into it in the letter, but truth is, sometimes, a client will want us for an extended period of time." Manetti took another hit. As he exhaled, he leaned in toward Chris. "Sometimes drugs are involved, so you know, we’re sometimes really out of it. Sometimes someone buys one of us for a time. Comes with the territory. We come back to each other. Eventually. But we’ve learned our partnership needs to be very open." Chris' spoon stopped in mid-air at some point while Manetti was talking. He looked him over. Long dark wavy hair, highlights of red in the harsh kitchen light, long side burns who's points hit his high cheek bones, a wide mouth with lips like seagulls wings, brown eyes that suddenly glinted with mischief. His robe had fallen open again revealing swirling black hair over pale white skin across an expansive chest. Chris' brain twitched. Something was off. He knew stoned, and he wasn't getting stoned. Manetti scratched his chest but his fingers lingered in his mat of chest hair. Chris saw him open his robe a bit more to brush his left nipple on his massive pec; he diddled with a thin metal bar that pierced his large tit. Chris placed the spoon in the bowl, took up the proffered joint, took a hit as casually as he could. With a clenched throat, hoping it sounded like he was being offhand, he asked, "So you're his boyfriend. You’re both hustlers?" He was confused, but not by the news that his brother turned tricks, but that Manetti’s nipple, so unusually large, looked so very appealing. He'd never seen a pierced nipple up close in real life. So much was flooding his senses at once it was hard for him to keep up with his thoughts. "Boy, this is strong shit," he said, handing back the joint. "Laced?" "Just a bit." Manetti's grin widened displaying a beautiful row of perfectly white teeth. Why hadn't Chris noticed just how good looking Manetti was before? He had looked at him through a filter as one of his brother’s friends. But whatever the joint was laced with was magnifying Manetti's magnetism. If Manetti was a hustler he must be a very good one, thought Chris. Manetti’ smile, as it grew, highlighted his strong jaw, became the smile of a shark. Chris was easily bait. "This soup is really good," he said, trying to snap out of his gaze. He finished up the last of it. "Uh, can I use your bathroom?" "Other side of the bedroom. Ready for some more soup?" Chris stood up, placing a hand on the back of the chair. For some reason he didn’t feel hungry anymore. “Nah, I’m good.” He glanced out the airshaft and again a slight paranoia gripped him as he looked into the inky darkness. In the apartment across from them something was moving. He was wobbly, but more than stoned, he was suddenly horny. He also saw he was starting to get a woody, one that was pretty evident wearing only thin underwear. Manetti noticed it too. Chris excused himself before it became even more obvious. Suddenly, he was confused by the apartment layout. Off the kitchen was the only other room, a bedroom. Off it, a small closet, and a smaller closet with a toilet and a dinky sink. In the bedroom a sling hung over a futon on the floor. He knew what it was even though it was the first sling he'd ever encountered. He'd seen them in Ben's magazines, the ones he left behind between his mattress. Rawhide, Stroke, Bound and Gagged, and Chris' favorite, Magnum. He saw the leg straps, the leather pillow, the wrist restraints, the mirror perched over the top. He felt himself woozy, and grabbed a leg strap to steady himself. Not the best choice, for it immediately flew away from him and with his other hand he had to grab the metal support. The whole sling set into motion a round of clanging as chains banged against metal posts. "You okay in there?" Manetti's voice called out from the kitchen. He peered around the kitchen door to see if the kid was still standing. "Yeah, I'm good," Chris answered stumbling to the bathroom. "I bet you are," Manetti responded with a laugh. "Ben said you were a choir boy. That really true?" "Really true." He shut the bathroom door, relieved that he had found a room, compact as it was, where he could compose himself. As soon as he shut the door, he struggled to get his act together. He mulled over the fact that there were only two rooms in the entire apartment—kitchen, bedroom. Where was he going to sleep? And, fuck, he couldn’t deny how horny he was for Manetti. He saw how the evening was leading in one direction, and he saw he couldn’t and didn’t want it to go any other way. Manetti would be gentle, he reassured himself. That first embrace in the hallway surely proved he would understand that, being his first time, his brother’s lover would be gentle, would let him take things at his own pace. But he was his brother's lover. But he was also a hustler. His brain was frazzled. Sitting down with his underwear around his ankles he looked up at the back of the bathroom door. Taped to it was a foldout from Magnum magazine. It was Ben and Manetti sixty-nining each other with their forearms up each other's ass. Cocks dripping, Crisco smearing, Ben and Manetti were frozen in a frenzy of fists. Chris popped a rock hard boner and dropped the biggest shit of his entire life. *** Manetti unhooked the leg straps from the end of the sling, folded it in half, then re-attached the straps to the arm hooks. That left the futon on the floor unencumbered from above. He popped in one of Drax's bareback twink videos in the VCR, grabbed the remote and laid back on the futon propping his head with an oversize pillow against the radiator. It was late but the Tina laced joint had him in a semi-energized mood. He was sure Chris must have felt similarly. The toilet flushed and Chris emerged. The boy, still clad only in his white underwear, shirtless, flawless, a thin little scarecrow, stood at the bathroom door. Blond hair, dry now but flying every which way. A perfect skinny beach boy, ten years Ben's baby brother. Their resemblance was minimal. Whereas he and Ben worked out regularly, having pecs, necks, and 'ceps to prove it, Chris, looking around the small studio confused, seemed frail. He was more than a little intimidated by all the pornography he was discovering on the walls, porn stars Manetti and Ben had either known or worked with over the years. Mostly signed. "To Manetti / Good times, bad times, baddest times! Rich" or "Big Ben / Your name does not lie, Eric." "Come. Sit," encouraged Manetti patting the space next to him. "How you feel? Like the joint?" "Yeah, man," said Chris, trying to sound cool. "That's powerful dope. It's dusted?" "Nah, a little Tina. You like?" Chris gave a single nod with a flicker in his eye that Manetti zeroed in on. He casually took a sip of water he’d brought from the kitchen. "Want to try it pure?" Chris sat next to him cross legged. "I guess so," he said. Manetti could smell him. A little grungy, a slight smell of urine probably from the wet, dirty underwear. Ben had told Manetti he thought his little brother was on-again and off-again homeless, at least not staying at his house much cuz of the mom's new boyfriend. Manetti grabbed a pipe from the window ledge, set his glass aside, and stuffed the pipe with a little white powder from a baggy. He handed the pipe to Chris. "Have you blown clouds before?" Manetti knew the answer before he asked it. Chris shook his head. Up close Chris was even more striking than across the table. It was his eyes, soulful lost puppy eyes. When you first looked at him he looked just like any skinny white kid, but sitting crossed legged next to him, you could really see how lost he was. His six pack abs wasn’t from working out but from not eating enough, his ribcage pronounced as he breathed. Hairless chest, tiny nipples, little or maybe no armpit hair. The kid didn't even look like he shaved yet. Whereas he was all hair. From his heavy five o'clock shadow that was dark even right after a morning shave, strong jaw with a cleft chin, his father’s rugged aquiline nose, shaggy, unkempt cluster of chestnut hair, and trade-famous pointed sideburns. "Just inhale it like you would hash and hold it." Chris did as he was told. The kid was nothing if not a fast learner. And obedient. The idea of introducing him to Drax crossed his mind. He brushed the thought away. The kid was much too cherry. Drax would eat him alive. Still, what was he going to do with him after tonight? He was definitely going to get in the way of his trade. As Chris was about to blow the smoke out, Manetti took the boy’s mouth and covered it with his own. He breathed in the smoke from Chris' lungs, held it for a beat before exhaling. "No need to waste it. You take it from me this time." Manetti lit the bottom of the pipe, waited for the white cloud to form, then sucked it in. Out of the corner of his eye he could tell Chris was grappling with how Manetti had grabbed his chin and brought their lips together. Chris watched him, biting his lip with anticipation, moving closer to Manetti’s mouth. It was almost like kissing, something he'd never done with man. Manetti motioned with his finger and Chris moved in. Manetti exhaled into him, breathed a new kind of life into him. As he held it, Manetti leaned back against the pillow. "So, what's your plan, Chief?" Chris followed suit and leaned back into the large pillow he shared with Manetti. After he'd exhaled, Manetti took a long sip of water. He offered the glass to Chris. "Don't really have one. Thanks." Chris took a sip and handed the glass back to Manetti. "Not a really good plan, Chief—not to have a plan. Ben thought you were queer. He right?" Manetti was fixed on the TV, watching a blond dude about Chris' age but not as skinny getting sucked by a balding, stocky daddy type. "I used to beat off to Ben's porn. So I guess, yeah. Twice, when I stayed over at my best friend Jeff's place, before his parents didn’t want me coming around anymore, we jacked off to some straight shit.” Chris looked around again at all the porn posters and photos hanging on the walls. “I think I recognize that guy in that poster there from one of them," he said pointing to a huge 'roided porn star with an extra-long dick, one with perfect hyper-masculine features perched on the hood a Rolls Royce. It was signed "To Manetti, thanks for the ride, TJ. "Mr. No Balls? Hah! Tyler says he's straight, only does gay for pay. Don't believe him. You can shit in his mouth and he'd pay you for it." Chris barked out a surprised laugh. “No, seriously he loves twinks. I bet if I call him right now, he’d come over and ask you shit in his mouth.” Manetti made a motion like he was going to get up and call, but Chris, laughing, held him back. Chris’ hand on Manetti’ shoulder, feeling it's mass, registered quickly on both of them. Chris quickly put his hands back in his lap. Manetti added a little more white power to the pipe. "’Nother hit, Chief?" Chris nodded. His heart was already pounding and he felt flush all over. He was also pulling on his pud unconsciously, getting a little wet spot on the tip, staining his already stained underwear. Manetti took note, seeing the kid was totally unaware of what he was doing. He calmly fired up the pipe and slowly leaned into Chris. He blew into his lungs lightly adding just the tip of his tongue, and deliberately scraping the boy’s face lightly with his cheek. Chris's eyes widened. He'd never felt a beard against his face like that. "So that's it. A couple wanks with Jeff, you on one end of the couch, your best bud on the other, eyes glued straight to the TV. Aware of him but never dared to looking. Am I right or am I right?" "Yeah, something like that.” Chris’ mind spun. His next words flew out of him as if he was compelled to confess to Manetti. “Except one time this real nerd, Kyle—I never told nobody this—he helped me with some math homework. His parents both worked so we were alone at his house. Everyone knew he was a fairy. Ran like a girl. We were in his bedroom. He put his hand on my pants, which usually kind of hangs cuz I don’t hitch ‘em up, and he pulled them right off me and gives me a blow job. Like, I didn’t even stop him even though he was sucking my dick. I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” But it felt good being open with Manetti. He felt a mild release and a kind of excitement in the act. "Did you give Kyle a blow job back?" Chris scoffed at the thought. Then after a beat, added, “Actually, I thought about it. Sometimes late at night, jacking off under the covers, I remembered how much I liked it. How soft his mouth was. How it felt to cum into it, into this big wet thing. Like how I didn't have to hold back at all. Like how maybe I’d like to give Jeff a blow job. Give him the same feeling. Like he wouldn’t have to hold back and just come in my mouth and I’d swallow it. Okay, shut up. Stop talking now,” he said, talking to himself in a voice that could have been his father's. Manetti laughed, but made a quick U-turn and became serious. "Well, what wasn't nice, Chief, is that you should always reciprocate. Know what I mean? I mean if I gave you a blow job, I'd expect you'd give me one back. That’s only fair, right? And if I rimmed your ass, I expect you'd return the favor." "What’s rimming?" asked Chris. Manetti looked at him sideways, saw he was honestly confused. This kid was too innocent to be believed! “You must have seen it in one of Ben’s magazines.” Chris shook his head. Manetti found the remote control and sped the video up. "There. See what that kid’s doing?" Manetti pointed at the screen where the blond kid was under the older daddy’s hairy ass. "He’s eat out man's pussy." "The fuck out!" said Chris but didn't take his eyes from the screen. Manetti saw the kid's boner tenting up in his shorts. "That's fucking nasty, man. Gross! Why would someone do that?" Yet the boy’s eyes couldn’t be pried from the screen with a crowbar. He was pulling again at his underwear. "It's like getting a blow job but a hundred times better.” He motioned to Chris’ hardon. "Looks as if you like the nasty." Chris stopped pulling at his dick alarmed. “Wait. I’ll fast forward. You're gonna love this." The VHS tape sped up, then skidded to a stop. The boy was now under a rim seat with the daddy sitting on top. A close-up showed the boy lifting his head, licking the daddy’s balls then sticking his tongue deep into the daddy’s hairy ass. "I bet you’d be good under there." Chris felt his whole skin glisten in a light sweat. His nerves felt electric. Manetti flicked off the room lamp. The room basked in the dark glow of the TV. Chris felt an imaginary blanket was enveloping him and Manetti, separating them from the world. With the light off, he had an urgent need to take off his underwear and bare himself to Manetti. Manetti sensed it and reached out and slipped off Chris' underwear. The kid had a nice seven inch rod, rigid and beaded with pre-cum. Very little pubic hair. Looked like he clipped it, too. His legs were hairless, thin and smooth. Such smooth pale skin got him excited and he casually opened his robe revealing his long, uncut cock angling above his firm, hairy belly. Chris looked at him achingly. He took the boy's hand and placed it on his manmeat. Chris caressed it lightly at first, the first time he'd ever touched a man’s penis. Manetti felt him quickly go from a light touch to a firm grip. He pumped a little in the boy's hand. The hand barely wrapped around his shaft. But what he did hold was like being in the grip of a cobra. His other hand aimed for Manetti’s chest. His finger ran through his chest hair making a bee-line for his pierced nipple. When he make contact Manetti could wait no longer. He pounced, gripping Chris’ legs and spinning him around, pulling his legs into the air to expose his butthole. He dove down to engulf his sphincter and the kid let out a moan of pure pleasure, his neck arched looking up to his face. "Oh, fuck, dude," Chris cried. "Oh, shit that feels good. Jesus. Christ! Oh shit." It coaxed Manetti to pull the boy's pursed asslips apart even more and deep dived his tongue into this virgin hole. “Push out,” ordered Manetti. "More!" The boy hadn't wiped well and there was an acrid taste of shit around the kid's stained hole. It horned Manetti even more, driving his tongue deeper into this nasty, puckering pit. “Push fucker!” Every nerve ending in Chris' bunghole bristled in pleasure as he pushed out his hole. Manetti's long tongue dug into the hole, which fought instinctively against entry. Manetti’s mouth was relentless, chewing, licking, sucking on the boy's ass lips. Chris tried fighting against the tongue from entering, but bit by bit he felt the pleasures of giving up his hole, physically and mentally, to push out and let this man he’d met only a few hours before enter him in his most vulnerable spot. Manetti beard scratched his tender skin, but it felt incredible, loosened him more and more. He heard the man spit, his hole dripping wet, and felt a finger entering him. This was the first time he'd ever been penetrated, and though it was uncomfortable and hurt, at the same time it excited him. He felt conflicted, fooling around with his brother's boyfriend, afraid of where this might lead. But he knew where he wanted it to lead. Manetti held his legs firmly, looked down into his open face. Chris was afraid and yet attracted at the same time. Manetti was all hair, chest, shoulders, a black jungle around his cock, even a bit of hair on his back that he felt with his legs. Manetti held his legs over his shoulders to dig into that smooth, tasty boyhole. From that vulnerable position, Manetti sucked in a testicle, then the other, which made the kid cry out in pleasure and surprise. He then returned to that beautiful virginal, pliable, slowly opening tunnel. The sensation of having his hole eaten was driving him wild. Hoarsely, he spat out, "Mike, I want to return the favor." Manetti looked down into the boy's face, became curious, wondering if the kid would do it or would cop out at the last minute. He released him and the kid scurried through Manetti’s legs, putting himself beneath the man's furry butt like he'd seen the twink do on TV. Manetti squatted over his face as he felt the boy’s lips surrounding his crack. The kid pulled on Manetti's legs to get him to squat lower. "Oh, fuck yeah. You're as big of a pig as your brother. Eat my shithole, boy. Dig in, get lost in it.” Manetti ground his ass over the boy’s face. “Rank, right? Be a little toilet pig. You felt what I did, how deep I got. Return that favor. Be a sewer. Be a cell pool. Just give in to it. Get lost in there." And Chris did. His cock remained an iron pole, Manetti noted, while his tongue didn’t stop for a moment cleaning his dirty shithole. Chris had never felt as uninhibited as this. Manetti’s whole butt was one massive trench of black hair. The crack seemed to go on forever. He licked and licked, searching to find the center. Manetti’s musky odor drove his brain into delirium. He was a boy on a mission and would not give up until he made Manetti’s hole feel as good as Manetti had made his. Minutes went by till he arrived, finding the smooth oasis of flesh through the dark brush. It pulsed with heat on his tongue, and gave off the pure scent of a man. He couldn't believe how wonderfully soft the skin felt across his tongue nor the nasty taste that reeked from his hole. Instead of being repulsed by the stench, he was in a frenzy to please Manetti but he also found he really liked it. He did what Manetti had done and lapped and circled the hole, until he found he could dart his tongue inside, which produced an animal snarl from Manetti. "Rrrrrr, fuck yes, piglet. Get in there you little fuck pig." Then something happened Chris didn't quite understand, but knew in his gut he liked right away. The hole he was chewing on opened up slightly and a vast area of Manetti's rectum pushed out with it. His mouth was confronted with his first rosebud, although at the time he didn't know what it was. Right after this mound of gelatinous flesh revealed itself to him, like some startled sea creature, it pulled back into its hole. Manetti went wild. Chris felt his legs being pulled in the air again, separated, a tongue slithered into his entrance. An infinite amount of pleasure, giving and receiving, before there was a brief pause, then a heavy hand cracked against his butt. "Say, Thank you, Sir." "Thank you, Sir," repeated Chris, his ass stinging, feeling a sense of shame and pleasure and pride all at the same time. "You taste so fucking good, I want to eat you up, pig boy," growled Manetti. "Let's get you in the sling. I have to bang this pretty pussy." They sprang up and he quickly showed Chris how to connect the legs chains back to the hooks. Chris rubbed his butt and felt the heat from the slap Manetti had given him. "Climb in, boy, and I'll give you the ride of your life." As Chris was figuring out how to get in, Manetti said, "You liked blowing clouds?" Chris nodded. "Then you're going to love this." He quickly poured some powder in a shot glass, mixed a little water in it and sucked it up in a plunger. "Okay, settle in. Put your legs through here.” Manetti paused, then ran a hand up and down Chris' torso, ending by fondling his cock and balls. “You happy you met me?” Chris nodded. "And you've never been fucked before?" Chris shook his head fiercely, anticipating what was to come. “Comfy?" Chris nodded again eagerly, starting to slowly hump Manetti's paw. "Not so fast, boy. I want you to learn to feel it not just in your dick but also inside your hole.” Manetti pulled Chris' dick away from his body to the boy cried, then let it slap against his belly. “You gonna do whatever Sir says, yes slave?" Manetti squeezed a little lube on Chris' hole. He wet a finger in his mouth and pushed it up Chris' ass a good inch or two. It was uncomfortable for a second while Manetti twisted his finger lubing all side of Chris’ tight cave, but Manetti kept wiggling it around and Chris not only got used to the sensation, but found himself writhing a bit on Manetti finger, trying to get him to penetrate him further. "Okay, this'll be a little cold and might sting, but just for a minute." Manetti replaced his finger with the plunger, stuck it up Chris's canal as far as it would go, and then shot the liquid into the boy's empty hole. Shit yes, it was cold and stung like a bitch. Chris bore down as Manetti finished injecting his ass with the cold liquid, then pulled the plunger out of him. At first he felt nothing but coldness warming up inside him. He felt a bit let down anticipating something intense. Manetti looked him over, stroked his erect dick and tweak his small nipples. “Feel anything?” Chris shook his head. Manetti went over to the VHS recorder and switched tapes. While it was revving up, Manetti put on a leather cap and vest over his otherwise naked body. Chris was truly impressed, if not a little intimidated, by the severe transformation a few bits of costume made to Manetti. It also altered Manetti's attitude. Manetti looked straight out of one of his brother’s leather magazines. It brought out a sense of privilege and arrogance even. Manetti went to the bookshelf and opened a box and pulled out an orange capped rig. He strapped his arm with a tourniquet, feeling for a vein against the dim TV light. He slammed himself and started breathing heavily. His mouth shaped into an round 'O' and his eyes widened in sudden astonishment. Something was happening in Chriss too, something like a serpant eminating from his hole. He felt a strong surge of desire. "You look so fucking great, Sir. Like a god." Chris could not see Manetti’s eyes, only dark pockets where his eyes should be. Chris couldn’t help himself and started pleasuring the feeling his ass. Words flew out of him. "Or like the devil," he whispered like at confession. Something heating up inside his hole made him feel intensely desirous of Manetti. Wanting him like he never wanted anything before. Manetti cough. "FUCK!" Manetti shouted widening his eyes. "Christ fuck!" He could barely stand, and leaned heavily on the bookcase. "Hot damn, boy. How you feeling?” He was breathless, trying to put the orange cap back on the rig. “You feel it yet?" Manetti looked to him out of focus, but a feeling of euphoria was sweeping through Chris' body, making himself pull on his cock at the same time he fingered his butthole. He felt electric, energized, wanted Manetti to touch him all over, maybe even smack him again. "I feel great, Sir,” he said. As Manetti staggered from the bookcase and came closer, he sat up in the sling and ran his hands across Manetti’s hairy chest. "I wanted to do that the second I came in the door, Sir. Fuck, you are so hot. My ass is yours. Whatever you want to do to it. Beat me if you want to." "Beat my ass—SIR!" returned Manetti, now holding on to the chains while he was rushing, where Chris' butt lay exposed, so desirous of being fucked for the very first time. "Yes, SIR, beat my ass again—SIR." And Manetti did, harder than the first time. "Thank you, SIR," replied Chris, falling back against the leather pillow, pushing his ass out of the sling. A light turned on in the room across the airshaft. Chris didn't notice, but Manetti did. "You're welcome, boy. Let's get you settled in." With that Manetti quickly locked his leg restraints, still breathing heavily, punctuating fucks under his breath as he worked. Before Chris knew it, Manetti had restrained his arms above his head. He gladly went along with whatever Manetti wanted to do. As long as it didn't involve needles. That was the only thing that freaked him a little but he tried not to think about it. If it wasn't for the feeling of horniness overcoming every molecule in his body he might have been spooked by the restraints. But now he was accepting everything that this hairy demon breathing over him was doing. It was easy to inhale Manetti’s pheromones, which blotted out the picture of him hunched over, shooting up. Or maybe he secretly liked that. He didn’t know what he thought anymore. He arched his head toward Manetti’s cock. It was veiny, half sheathed in foreskin. Leaking pre-cum. He licked it. A taste of salt and cheese. Nothing had ever tasted so delicious and desirable to him. He still had a trace of Manetti’s dirty ass on his lips and it mixed with salt and cheese from his foreskin. Manetti turned on a light over the sling and flipped on a video camera propped next to the bookcase. Manetti slowly turned the boy’s peach fuzz face to the side, checked that the view finder was in close, recording each translucent strand of blond hair on the boy's upper lip, and slid his veiny cock into the boy's mouth. He swallowed have his fat nob. Manetti was impressed at how much Chris could take. He pushed him further, getting half his shaft into the boy's mouth, feeling where the boy’s throat constricted, made him choked on his shaft, then skullfucked him at that length for a while as his cock grew from semi-flaccid to fully engorged. Manetti withdrew his cock from his mouth, and a web of pre-cum hung like a spider web between them. He let his uncut cock trace over Chris’ pursed mouth. "Ah Chris," he said looking into his eyes. "I'm going to fucking love knocking you up." Chris felt the words echo in his head, puzzled at first by their meaning. On the TV screen a body was being pummeled by a Master with a whip, with a boy writhing in pain and ecstatically twisting under the lash. He looked back at Manetti. Beyond the harsh light shining on him, in the dim light of the room, he saw covered by the beautiful black fur surrounding Manetti's navel, the three prongs of a biohazard tattoo. Manetti placed a red ball in his mouth and tied it behind his head. Chris realized too late what the ball was for, and started fighting against his bindings. Manetti pushed in between his legs. The kid tried to close his legs but the sling and Manetti easily pried him open. He was exposed and vulnerable. Manetti greased his cock and lubed the boy's tight hole. With his first thrust his aim was true. He slid the entire length of the kid's clutching rectum, straight up to his thick black patch of pubic hairs. The girth of his shaft ripped the boy's hole apart. Manetti's hairy balls smacked into the boy's tailbone. He didn't stop till he was right up the boy's chute, fully inside. The boy cried in anguish behind the red ball, tears in his eyes, panic running across his face. Fiercely he was beathing, spitting saliva through the ball in heaving gulps of air. Spit ran down his chin and cheek. He fought as much as he could against the thickness of Manetti’s enormous shaft, against his cuffed arms and legs, but the struggle only engorged Manetti’s immense tool more. "Fight against it, bitch. I love it." Manetti picked up his pace. The pain was unbearable but he was helpless to stop it, and with every stroke he felt his resistance falling away. The longer it went on, and against his will, he started deriving a small bit of pleasure from the pain. Chris slowly began to unclench against Manetti’s girth. For a while, at the pinnacle of each thrust, Manetti would hold his crotch against Chris' hole, letting the boy experience the magnitude of the amount of raw flesh that filled his hole. Chris felt all the hairs of Manetti's pubis surround his hole. Manetti gyrated inside him. He felt the stiff cock push his insides around, moving everything inside, his bladder, his prostate, a gateway to an inner chamber. The sensations started owning him. Making him feel things he didn't know he could feel, sensations that were newly possible. Manetti felt Chris’ hole beginning to open. He looked into the bound boy’s blue eyes and saw a dawning pleasure deep within him. He wasn’t sure the boy even knew he was beginning to draw pleasure from his pain, but he would know and eventually desire it in ever increasing amounts. He new his journey and he would have the boy follow in his tracks. Tears were being overcome with lust as the chemicals were taking over Chris' body. The boy stopped struggling and for a moment became placid. He grew annoyed with the passivity so with both hands, as hard as he could, he smacked with all his force Chris' ass. It made Chris yelp and clench his sphincter which pleased Manetti. He looked down on the boy and was surprised to see a spark of gratitude in Chris' eyes. Just a spark. He needed to work him harder. They fell into a rhythm. For minutes that turned to hours Chris got used to the battering his hole was taking. When he went slack, Manetti slapped him to tighten him up, or twisted his small nipples until he tried to cry out in pain behind the gag. At the beginning, Chris fought the massive rod slamming into him and the occasional whipping his ass endured. But after non-stop fucking, accepting the alternating pleasure and pain, he came to desire the torpedo that was tearing him inside. The familiar walloping he received growing up, he secretly desired from Manetti. In the mirror he watched and felt his butt turn from pink, to red, to purple. At some point he got lost in it, started thrusting himself to get impaled deeper, to be slapped hard, to be punished for sins he couldn’t name. Manetti felt Chris' entire canal loosening. The ass smacking was now built into their fucking. Chris, in fact, in a haze, began thanking him behind the red ball. Whether or not Manetti heard him was questionable, for Manetti's eyes rolled back in his head and he mindlessly fucked and abused what at times became an anonymous body splayed beneath him. Manetti occasionally snapped out of his daze and saw how much he was controlling this innocent young kid, this younger version of his partner, his boyfriend, his lover—imagined he was fucking an innocent version of Ben, one from long ago—then he would lose himself again to the sheer, dark pleasure he derived from his raw cock having its way in a stranger's body. He felt himself edging closer to a climax as his mind vacillated between thoughts of Ben and this new fresh piece of nameless meat. As he felt he was close to cumming, he broke through to awareness of Chris beneath him. He saw Chris' sweat dick never lost its erection no matter what he did to him. He started playing with the boy's meat, milking him, lightly slapping his face so that he came out of his drugged revelry. "I'm about to cum, Chris,” he said as the boy focused on his mouth and words, “but I’m not going to cum in you unless you cum first, got that? That shows you want me to give you my poz cum. Shows me you want to be my fuckhole no matter what. Lets me own you." Through blurred eyes Chris lobbed his head no, but almost immediately started squirming his cock in Manetti clenched fist. "I can't tell if you're trying to get away from me, fuckhole, or you're jacking yourself in my hand. I think you're jacking, you little cum pig." He broke into a dark smile. "Feel how hard you are?" Chris kept bucking, thrashing, squirming away in a sea of ecstasy and lust, both wanting this man to cum and fearing it with all his fiber, but he couldn't hold back, jacking into his fist and slamming back onto his cock, a see-saw that wouldn't end until he pushed himself over the edge. He let loose the longest stream of cum he'd ever shot. Ribbons of sperm spewed over the room. The boy’s hole clenched and spasmed as he shot, immediately triggered Manetti who gushed in rivers of ropey sperm up the boy's open chute. They both quaked in orgasms, each building on the other’s spuming bodies, until they were thrashing uncontrollably against each other, grinding bone against bone, skin against raw skin, till there was a thrust of Manetti that hung in the air, then one more, then a final lunge plunging Manetti deep inside Chris. He held it there, on the edge, feeling himself unload an afterbirth of cum. Manetti stood dripping heavy sweat onto Chris' glistening chest. He rubbed Chris' cum all over his chest and face. He sucked the boy's small nipples, licked up and down the boy's arms, licked his pits, still hard and draining inside him. “You still with me?” he whispered, as he loosened the ball in Chris’ mouth. “That was fucking fantastic.” The boy’s eyes, drugged as they were, did not lie. Manetti kissed him deep, then lay on top of him feeling his heart beating against his. He rested there for a moment feeling the slickness between them, the kid’s sperm matting his chest and abs and pubes. He licked up a river of the boy’s cum welled in his sternum, and was surprised to see Chris open his mouth for him. The boy had the makings of a true pig, he thought, as he released the drool into the greedy boy's maw. He watched the lust still simmering within the boy as he swallowed. Maybe he was Drax material after all. ***

Name to Respond to: Hole or Pussy Cell: PM me Location: Hyattsville, MD (20782) NOT Available: mainly during the day on weekdays. Work Mon-Fri. Age: 33 Height/Weight: 6’4”, 195lbs Ethnicity: Latin/Pacific Islander mix

I was out on my morning walk/jog/run this morning and super horny so I had Grindr going and was soon talking with a couple guys. One was nearby at the Toyota dealer getting his oil changed. A cute 29 year old stocky Latino guy who looked younger than that. He sent a cock picture showing a pretty thick and long uncut cock with a curve. I loved that his profile said he barebacked and was verse and he was pretty clear he wanted to fuck me, but needed me to pick him up to do it. I told him I was sweaty and needed to shower, but he told me was cool if I was sweaty and wanted to do this quick. I went back to my house quick, jumped in my truck and went over to pick him up. In person he was even hotter and had a butch voice too. I'd told him there were places nearby we could park and fuck that were safe and we headed to one and parked. We both stripped down and i got down to start sucking his cock and was loving it. He was already throwing off a lot of precum and I couldn't wait to feel his cock inside me. He told me he was getting close and I got up to straddle his cock and lower my ass down on it. I'd got his cock head in my ass when he asked me if I had a condom. I told him I didn't but I was cool for taking him raw. He told me he couldn't do that as it was too risky and said we needed to go get condoms. By now I had his whole cock in me and was stunned as he didn't seem to mind being in me raw and his profile said bareback. I was about to call him out on it, but instead started riding him saying it was cool, we could start out raw and he could pull out to cum. It was clear from his case he was enjoying it but said "No bro, we need to go get some. There's a CVS nearby." I kept riding his cock and he again said to stop and that we needed to get condoms. I was tempted to push it but decided against it. I got off his cock sad about having to do that and put my shorts back on and told him to leave his pants off so I could stroke his cock as I drove. It wasn't far to the CVS and I went in to get some condoms. I like smirking at the cashier on the way out as it looks like I'm getting some, but in reality I'm gonna get it in the ass like the pig I am. I have a pen knife in my pocket and pulled out one of the condoms and nicked it with the tip of the pen knife so I knew it would fail once he started fucking me and put it back in the box so I would know to grab it for him. I got back in the truck and we drove back to the spot, me jerking his cock as we did. He thanked me for getting and said it would be better for both of us if he wrapped. We parked again and I grabbed the right condom out of the packet, pulled my shorts off and opened the condom and put it on him. I grabbed some lube out of the glove box as I knew I would need iot to take a wrapped cock and then started easing my ass down on his cock. His cock felt even bigger and more painful with the condom on it, but I knew the condom would fail and I'd get his load anyhow. I was riding him extra vigorously and being verbal hoping that would tear the condom more. He liked that I was so into getting fucked and me telling him how good his cock felt in me. He let loose with a loud groan and I knew he'd cum inside me even if he didn't know that. I slowed my riding him and eased my ass off his cock, quickly pulling the condom off his dick, putting down the window and tossing it out.It was pretty clearly torn so most of his load was inside me and I put the window back up. He'd been stroking my cock and admitted he doesn't normally bottom but wanted me to fuck him, but that I had to wrap to do it. Talk about a boner killer. I got hard and wrapped to fuck this stud but just could not stay hard enough to get to an orgasm. I'd pull out, pull of the condom and jerk a bit, put it back on and try some more. I knew if I was barebacking him I'd have no problem and would have blasted a satisfying load deep inside him. I kept trying and then the condom slipped off my cock and suddenly I was fucking him bare. I know I should have told him rather than being a dick, but wanted release and so I kept fucking him saying nothing now that I was rock hard. He had his back to me and wasn't one of those condom Nazis constantly checking to make sure I still have the condom on. I shot a massive load inside of him and kept stroking, hoping to pump another one inside him. I was surprised he hadn't realized I was now rawdogging him but he said nothing or didn't realize it. I was so turned on it took little for me to bust another load inside him. As I slid out I knew I'd have to fake surprise that the condom came off and did a good job, apologizing profusely. He was kinda dumb like he didn't comprehend, so I explained it slid off as I was pulling out, which he fell for. He still didn't seem to be grasping it and I wasn't about to go into more detail and started putting my clothes back on. I figured I better drop him back before he figures it out and possibly gets mad/angry that he's got my loads in his ass. As hot as he was and how bad I'd love to take his dick again, that he wanted it safe was tiring and not worth it. I'd got his load which is what I really wanted, and that I got to dump my loads inside him was an added bonus. I was still kind of pissed he lures people in posting he wants bareback but then does a bait and switch. I dropped him off and neither of us said anything to each other. Eventually he'll the condom is still in his ass along with my cum and he'll probably be pissed.

Maybe I should get em pierced does it hurt

A week ago I received his standard email message "Oi Rapehole, its time" meaning he wanted another session. Those 4 words strike an almost overpowering surge of emotion within my mind and in my arse. A flood of euphoric excitement mixed with abject terror causing my guts and in particular my tight arsehole, to clench in fear. I sat in front of the computer screen reading those four words over and over as flashbacks of our previous sessions replayed like a pornographic horror movie in my mind. In cartoons the hero often has an angel and a devil on each shoulder arguing the pros and cons of an action. I was having a similar experience as my mind argued about going through with this again. Replaying past sessions reminding me of the hurt, the pain, the degradation and humiliation. I grabbed a coke zero from the fridge and drained it in seconds as I tried to calm down and make the rational choice. Within minutes I had booked the flights to London I had met Dan over a year ago during a trip to London for work. He was a maintenance worker on the London underground which kept him fit and strong he had a firm toned hairy body and a thick 7" cock between his legs. we had originally met on an App called Growlr (Grinder for Bears). During the course of our conversations he had admitted he was into spanking and liked to cause pain. I confessed I was a bit of a pain pig and loved rough sex and after a couple of weeks of chat I had another business trip to London and he agreed to meet me in my hotel room. our initial session was intense but tame compared to our other sessions however it helped me to convince him I wasn’t a psychodrama queen - talking big but crumpling into a mewling pathetic "oh daddy please stop it hurts, its too much" timewaster after a few spanks over the following months I'd meet dan for sessions as we explored our darker fantasies. Finally, we discussed ways to allow him to become more aggressive in his punishment of my ass and I raised the idea of a brutal ass-rape and asked if it was something he would consider. he warned me it would be extremely painful and if we did it, he wouldn’t stop for anything. No safe word, no tapping out, no limits. He tried to warn me he would abuse and degrade me for his amusement only. that nothing in the session would be (intentionally) for my enjoyment. he took a copy of our online chats as security - showing that I knew what I was getting into and had asked for it - in case I changed my mind afterwards and claimed I was an unwilling participant. he then set some rules: # A spotless clean hole # no stretching with toys # no poppers until he gave permission and definitely not before he was balls deep in my rapehole # and finally, and most obviously - No lube he said it was for "authenticity". that if I was grabbed by a rapist on the street I wouldn’t get any of those things so why start our scenario by cheating. he said if I cheated then he wouldn’t be able to trust me anymore and we wouldn’t hookup again. I agreed to his terms and made the arrangements. I booked an apartment near kings cross which would be handy for him when he finished work. at 6:10 on the day in question the buzzer to the front door sounded and I pushed the button, fear causing my insides to clench as I assumed the instructed position on the bed - head down Arse raised and pointing towards the door. I was to stay in this position during the raping and not look at him I heard him coming into the apartment and dropping his bag on the floor then his jacket fell on the floor beside it. I wanted to look around and see his handsome face but I dared not disobey. this was gonna be hard enough without pissing him off *SMACK* he swung his arm in a wide arc, his massive hand striking my right arse cheek Hard. I yelped then yelped again as he struck the other raised arsecheek I could feel the heat from his body against my arse. he was standing right behind me. I felt his warm breath against my hole then his dry middle finger was shoved right up my tight bung hole. I grunted as he pistoned it in and out roughly for a few seconds before pulling his finger out and putting it in my mouth ordering me to lick it. I thought he was gonna apply the spit slicked finger back into my hole to provide some relief but no it was just another humiliation. I could hear him getting undressed, occasionally slapping my presented arse hard. he started talking in a low voice, describing what my terrified butthole looks like. reminding me I had agreed to this, quoting my own words from our recorded chats. questioning the room at large if my hole was likely to rip when he went in. finally, I felt him standing behind me his furry thighs pressed against me, his rock hard cock pushing gently between my cheeks and pressing softly almost tenderly against my pucker. If my hole could talk it would have been screaming at me to pull away. I braced myself for the initial thrust I knew the pain was inevitable at this point when suddenly *Smack* he hit me across the back of my head hard - I was seeing stars "you dumb fuck, almost forgot your present" he threw his dirty boxershorts on the bed in front of me. he had obviously been wearing them all day if not longer. "turn them bad boys inside out slut". I obeyed, noticing evidence of various stains on the off-white material. "Now stuff them in your gob - don’t want the neighbours complaining". I reluctantly obeyed his nob was still pressed against my "rapehole". he grasped my hips strongly putting more pressure on my dry hole. I braced myself "Slut this shit just got real - Do you really want me to rape you???" in fear I shook my head "NO" "Good!!" He rammed his dry cock inside me. I screamed!!!!!!!!!! I tried to lunge forward to escape from this violent intrusion. I lost all sense of perspective, my entire world shrunk down to the fiery inferno pain in my arse. I had managed to dislodge only about an inch of his cock from my burning shithole but it was enough to piss him off. he pulled me back onto it causing fresh pain in my hole and guts. he started slamming deep aggressive thrusts into my ass, every so often he would slap my ass or the back of my head or punch me in the kidneys This was Waaaaaay beyond the fantasy, this was more painful than I could have imagined. Dan slapped my ass hard a few times saying "fucking slut, why didnt you tell me you were having your period" and laughed. Dan's kidney shots were also having an effect. At one point I thought I was leaking pre-cum but it turned out I was pissing myself Finally, Dan started to thrust in short fast strokes till suddenly with a growl he started unloading his spunk inside my torn shitter. He fell on top of my and after a few minutes rest he pulled out and ordered me to clean his cock As I suspected it was streaked with blood. I stood up, he wrapped his arms around me and I did the same to him and whispered in his ear "Hello Sir... Thank you!!!" I had a big grin on my face and I kissed him deeply and passionately This was the start of a long, painful and degrading night for me as Dan abused me in many ways. It was the first of four loads I took that night from him and the first of many similar sessions So Here I am again, head down arse up in response to his 4-word summons, waiting for the buzzer to sound. He said that tonight was gonna be special but didnt elaborate. I'm as scared today as I was back then. It feels like rape each time but can you really rape the willing???

well "Dan" is a real guy who currently lives in the states

This afternoon a guy who runs a landscaping business whom I had blown several times, came by. As he got out of his truck, he put out his cigar and came inside.. He's married. Mid 40s, in good shape, with scruffy face and sweaty from work. He's not buffed from working out in a gym, but rather from hard outside work He is pretty aggressive when aroused and he was. He usually fucks my face for a while, then has me finish him off while he sits down. He just pulls his jeans down, not bothering with taking off his boots. Today I mentioned to him that someone said my ass was as good as my mouth and equal to pussy. He decided to try it out, taking me doggy style. He didn't use lube, just went balls deep and kept going. Felt like I was being rammed through the wall. He started to breath hard and asked if I wanted his load in my ass. Of course I said yes, begging him for it. He let out big grunt/yell as he climaxed, burying his dick deep in my guts. I sucked him clean afterwards. Pulling up his jeans, tucking his dick in his tighty-whites, he agreed my ass was as sweet as any pussy he'd had. After lighting a cigar, he patted my head, as he left saying fucking me could be habit forming ....I devoutly hope so.

This morning at daddy house..went in and bent over the kitchen island, he came behind me pulled down my shorts and pushed his fat dick into me ..his belly on my back and he pushed it home ...a few seconds of slow slides and he asks if I like it ...I tell him to fuck me and don't stop until he's empty. five minutes of this big guy pounding me and he grunts and shudders as he shoots a week's worth into my guts. He shudders again as he pulls out ...I licked his cummy dick clean and pull up my shorts and leave. 7 minutes from start to finish ....and I leave happy with a slightly sore and sloppy ass.

Well I was planning on writing about a real life (mostly) story, but working on a sequel to this one. Possibly even 2 sequels! It's extremely difficult coming up with something different, yet interesting in longer stories such as this.

First of all WTF. We can virtue signal all day long use some wacky logic to blame whomever we want but that doesn't answer the question or come close to helping in any way. As someone who lives on the border state there are things you should know. Texas pays for alot of it, this is why here recently you have heard about busing them north. And before we start that shit show, no they are not cities that are randomly picked for political reasons they are cities who independently identified themselves as sanctuary cities. One of the biggest issues is healthcare. Hospitals cannot refuse to treat life threatening illnesses. In Texas we are fortunate to have many Catholic hospitals remaining. These institutions typically go above the life threatening requirements and treat as many people as the resources allow. But let's get to the crux of the issue, politicians. The largest risk at the border is not asylum seekers as you have been told. No they are a tool used to cause confusion and overtax the border guard so black market items can be brought in easier. I mean common where did you think the fyntenol was coming from? Once this is understood actions like loosening gun restrictions make more sense, not that I agree with DeSantis on much. The point is until the border is secure it's pointless to presue any form of gun control. Now my question is since we know this and the politicians know this why are we being gaslit over the immigrants? The sad and simple answer is they are making money off of the illegal black market. I would use the age old tactic of observing and seeing who is the loudest. I'm not going to say anything, but you should question why AOC a senitor from New York has such a driving interest in what happens in Texas, almost more interest than our own representative.

CHAPTER 72: Sharing is Caring. Before we all left the hotel, my dad's and I had one last time to get together and make love. This meant so much to me, sharing my love with my two dads. After we made love for hours, we simply laid naked in bed, embracing the moment. Our sweaty bodies entwined. All of our asses filled with cum. It was then my step dad that asked if I had a strong desire to gift someone who wanted gifted. I told him I definitely did as my experience had been remarkable. He asked if I had anyone in mind, and I said yes, but I wasn't sure if he wanted to be gifted. He asked me who, and I said my friend that I started experimenting from. My step dad said that he was hoping that I would say that, and had confidence that I could convince him about being converted. With that my step dad showered and headed back to his room, and my dad suggested we check the aps for chasers. We did find one, but we had to check out and didn't meet, bur agreed to keep in contact. Before we left, the waiter called the room and asked us to keep in touch, giving him his names on the gay aps, and giving us his number. He also gave us the same information for his twin. He also added that the spa had monthly drawings for hotel weekend packages, and to not be suprised if any, or even all won one! The waiter was super excited when I told him we had found a chaser, but didn't have time to hook up. The waiter laughed and simply said you better hope I don't find him before you meet up.

I love dark rooms. So much fun and will do anything they want. Nobody refused - ever and not seeing who's using my holes makes me even hornier hehe

I love dark rooms. I find all my other senses are heightened.

Chapter 69: Double Stuffed Part 2 I returned to my room, and told my dad it was on for tonight, but we likely wouldn't have the time for both of them to get fucked. He said he'd let my dad take them, and after they left, we'd take each other. I said I liked that idea. I sent a text to my dad telling him the plan. He asked if the spa twin was truly as big as the waiter? I said I thought maybe even a bit thicker. Sure enough mom called the waiter to deliver desert that night. She told him his taste was impeccable and to suprise her with his favorite. He said they were just about to make it, and he would add something special to it, just for her. He said he was off at 9, and that he could deliver around 8:45 if that was OK. She said fine. The waiter then called my room asking if I could help him with a special project. He said he was making a special desert for someone and asked if I could add a little something special to it? I said even better, one of the daddies was already in the room, and I told him if I think I know what the special ingredient was, he'd contribute also! The waiter said he wouldn't have much time, as atart stroking now for that special ingredient! He came to my room, with a bowl filled with whipped cream. We were just about to blow our loads, so his timing was perfect. He then covered the bowl with plastic wrap, and put a note on it saying special dietary requirements, do not use! I went to my parents room just before 8:45. Dad was in his gym shorts and tee shirt just like me. The waiter knocked at the door, delivering moms desert. Mom told him to just leave it there, as she knew her husband would be hungry after working out and running with me. I asked what it was, and the waiter said a peanut butter pie, with a whipped topping that it normally didn't have, but he knew how much mom loved it based on her prior orders. The waiter suggested mom put it in the fridge so it wouldn't go bad. The waiter then looked at me, and said i was his last delivery of the night, and then he was off to have some fun with his twin. I told him we were going to work out and take a run, so just leave my desert in my fridge. Of course dad and I were heading back to my room, and the waiter followed us. Once inside, we waited for his twin so he could take the dome off the desert. While waiting, we all got undressed and were all rock hard. The twin arrived and immediately stripped. The waiter then took the dome off of the desert, revealing a package of double stuffed Oreos saying who's ready for double milk? My step dad said his time was limited, so he was ready and eager for desert.

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.

I take solo trips specifically to places with bathhouses. Like steamworks in Chicago. It’s so much fun. So many guys ass up hanging around. I could literally try out a handful of anon holes before I decide which one to give my load to.

yesterday at the sauna I was fucked 12 times. More than ever before in one day. Four loads, all but one via the glory holes which, for a change, were really busy. It's weird how sometimes they're busy, but more often than not the darkroom is the place where it all goes on. Anyway, the last load ... there was a young Middle Eastern guy who I'd encountered earlier, while he chatted with someone else. I made it clear he'd be welcome to fuck me. A while later, I went into the darkroom and realised he was sitting in there. I knelt down and started sucking him, then decided to lube him up. I've started sucking a lot more then lubing guys up. I've found it a good way of testing them out, to see if they might be up for fucking (bareback). Most of the time they are. I stood up, turned round then positioned myself on the guy's cock. It wasn't long, but it was really thick. Considering I'd been fucked at least half a dozen times already, it didn't take much to open me up. I started riding him, but after a few minutes he suggested changing positions, so he could fuck me properly. Once I was bent over the bench, he pounded away. It wasn't long before he said that he was going to cum (I'd already whispered into his ear that I wanted him to come in me). Sure enough, I felt underneath and as he pulled away from me his cum was running out of my arse. As he had said, not a lot, but still a nice load.

Got to love sniffies. So here in Myrtle Beach it was bike week hundreds of motorcycles riders from all over. I was in the mood this Friday night was wondering if anyone is on sniffies. I opened it up and wow there was a lot of dots all over. I put in my profile "Looking for big hairy leather top bikers". It took a whole 5 minutes and got a few hits. One was a 10 minute walk from were I was. A motel down the street. The reply said a couple of tops here in a room having some drinks stop by. I said not far on my way. I walked to the spot on the map and asked what room? They gave me the room and said a blue pickup truck in front of door. I saw the truck and knocked on the door. The door open and wow 3 big hairy guys big beards and naked with chaps vests collars and all kids of things. I got nervous by their size. One said come in as i did i got grab and pulled in as another guy closed and locked the door. They came up to me and I smelled a very strong smell of cigars and leather. Got handed a bottle of whiskey and was told to take a few drinks dont like it but took some big gulps as they held the bottle. yuck Heard them say strip down boy lets have fun. Got naked as they groped me and touch all over. Heard someone say i want to eat that ass. I got pushed on the bed as two of them jumped on the bed and one of them bent over my face to suck his cock. Felt my leggs get lifted and someone started to eat my ass. The guy on my face sat on my chest as he shoved his cock in my face. He was so heavy I almost couldn't breathe and i started to suck but then smell of his dirty worn leathers was intoxicating. Someone came up to my face and stuck the bottle in my face to drink. It was different and tasted weird but forced to drink as it also spilled all over the guys cock and my face and was told to lick it up. So i tried.. the guy eating my hole kept shoving fingers and sticking his tongue deep. Love the beard rubbing my thighs and hole. I started to feel a little weird as i kept sucking a big hairy cock. Heard a voice say fucking flip him and they stopped and flipped over roughly. My leggs were grabbed and i was pulled to the end of the bed. One guy picked up my hips and a bunch of pillows were shoved under my hips and i heard look at that ass!! Someone poured a bottle over my ass and felt them lick my crack and ass and then heard I'm fucking 1st. I was buzzing now and felt a bottle tip pushed in my hole and the bottle was shooked. Then pulled out and felt a wipe of something cold then burning as i felt a hard cock pushed against my hole. All of a sudden he pushed and felt the head slide in and heard the others chant fuck it. He then pushed as it went in deep. He started thrusting and felt someone sat by my head and pulled my hair hard for him to slide his leggs so my head is on his lap. He said suck my cock fucking bitch. So i moved my arm up to grab around him and started to suck him. The guy fucking me thrusting hard. Aging as i was sucking i could smell the leather from his chaps and smelled so good. Then i heard a moan and the guy blew a load and pulled out and someone else said my turn. He went in fast and hard and in no time thrusting hard. The guy i was sucking was getting hot i started to feel his cock throb a little then pulled my hair hard and push my head down on his cock and growled so loud and exploded what seemed a gallon of cum in my mouth and throat i had to swallow a few times there was so much cum. Then as he laid back he held my head and said drink. As soon as he said that I tasted piss and i grabbed his cock to slow the flow so I can keep up. He moaned sow loud as he released the stream. The other guy started moaning and then made a noise and felt his cock throbbing. He pulled out and I was still drinking for a bit as they watched. When he was done They all were finish. One of them the biggest guy picked me up like i was a rag doll put me over his shoulder and everyone slapped my ass and one of them licked my drippings. He literally threw me on the bed and landed hard on it. Got flipped over and one of the came over and started to suck me with a finger in my dripping hole. I almost immediately got hard he got up another grabbed my cock to hold it and the guy turned his back to me and sat on my cock and started to life and sit and kept doing this as another guy came over and started to kiss me and tongue my mouth till i blew a load in him. They got up and i laid there exhausted. I was looking and they changed clothes and i was about to get up and got pushed down and was told to lay there. So i did. One was on the phone couldn't hear what was said. Then heard the door knock and two guys walked in. The original 3 guys walked out and said see ya and the two new guys came over to me undressed and started stroking themselves looking at me.. i looked at them and again big guy's. Heard them say get on fours and stick you ass up. So i did. I heard a bunch of motorcycles start and leave and heard the two guys say his ours now. Then felt them rub my ass and felt a cock slide in and heard wow this hole is wet. He slammed my ass and pumped hard. He lasted not long at all and pulled out as the other jumped in and pumped hard and fast he lasted for some time. I was exhausted at this point and felt him explode. He pulled out i laid there tired as they got dressed and left. It had to be about an hour for the two guys and many for the other i actually fell asleep for sometime i guess to get woken up to the original guys coming in. They said look he wants more. I heard good need an ass to fuck right now and came over undressed and started to fuck me again. The rest got undressed and laid next to me and watched me het fucked. He finished and laid next to one of the guys and was kissing him. The other got up and said I need some and started to fuck me. Another load happend. He pulled out and sat on the couch. I still laid there with the two guys kissing. Fell asleep again. I woke up and the sun was out one guy was in bed with me. The others were not there. I got up and he was still sleeping i had to piss went to then bathroom and after my piss i said fuck it i started the shower and got in to clean up. Got out feeling better dried off walked to get my clothes to leave and guy must have woken up as i was showering. As i was getting my clothes he got up grabbing my arm and said not yet. He pulled me to the couch bent me over the arm of the couch and kneeled to eat my ass. He got up and felt his cock at my hole and pushed in and my hole was so wrecked it went in easy. He pumped for a little and blew a load. Pulled me up and said you can stay if you want. I said i have to go i can come back later. Did the walk of shame to my car and went home. I definitely like bike week here..

Extrovert on the outside. Introvert inside.

Had a couple of smokes the other night …and that always gets me horny …and mellow …so thought id go see if there was anything going on in the park down the road…its a biggish place and backs on to some woodland …lots of paths and places to get out of sight. Any how I wander down the usual paths see what’s about. Its warm at the mo and light enough to see where I was going …first bloke I saw was walking his dog …didn’t know if he was looking or not …then round the back of the toilet block (its locked at 6pm) there was a bloke in his 40s getting sucked by a skinny chav lad …bit of a oh shit look in the blokes eyes but I nodded and moved in closer and he relaxed in to the BJ again …the lad was bent over in joggers and seemed cool for me to join in. I put my hand down the back of his pants and was stroking his arse and fingering his already wet hole …BJ bloke said “just fucked him” …I was hard and really liked the idea of some sloppy seconds …I hitched the lads pants down and got my hard cock out rubbing his wet hole …pushing in easy till I was balls deep …felt like he had a good load in there and as I fucked my cock came out cummy …nice …I pumped the lad for a bit and was on the edge for a while but didn’t cum …I pulled out and the lad started to suck my cock clean …BJ bloke lent in and snogged me for a bit …his hard cock was quite big 8?9? ..thick and uncut …no wonder I got in the lads hole so easy …”want this in ya mate “ BJ Bloke said and I just let him spin me round and start to rub his wet cock on my hole …chav lad now wanking a nice ginger cock and I snogged hime for a bit thinking he was fucking young ….I was eating the lads face when BJ Bloke got balls deep in me …fuck it was a tight fit ….I got bent forward and was holding on to chav lads hips as BJ fucked me slow and deep …I got the lads cock in my mouth and enjoyed the spit roast for a bit …lad said “fuck mate!” And unloaded a killer load in my mouth …loved it …swallowed and kept sucking till he said ..cheers mate and was off …BJ bloke started to really fuck me hard and I ended up against the toilet block wall ….was really going for it ….”oh mate really want to cum in ya” I said “go for it”…he slammed me a couple more times and unloaded in me …fuck it was hot…he was cock away and he was off this time. I hadn’t cum yet and was walking back and saw dog walker coming the other way …he was pocket wanking …so walked to some bushes and he joined me …50s bald stocking and hairy …got my cock out and he sucked it for a bit and I asked if he wanted fucking …yeah! …fingered his hole he sucked me .. I wasn’t far off so I pulled him off my cock and tried to get in his hole …he asked if I had any Johnnys and I said no …now wanking his 6” chub cock and gushing premium over his hole …I finally got in and giving him the length of my cock slowly with some spit as lube …I fucked him for a while (hairy arse ;-P) and was starting to cum when he asked if id pull out …too fucking late mate and I put a massive load up him….just said “fuck mate sorry”…and pulled out cum running down in to his pants …”never mind” he said …and I fucked off home and showered

I fucking live darakroom anon loads. For me there’s nothing hornier than a random dick finding a willing hole to use. Taking dick after dick is heaven and loads of guys love to slide into a hole vacated by a stranger. The excitement of not knowing if you’ll be rewarded with a load or for the top, finding a hole preloaded! Nothing like it!

Love dark rooms with multiple guys in there not know not caring who or what they look like. Just feel my body getting moved around and fucked is amazing. My senses are so high when its total darkness and cock after cock finds it way to my hole without seeing anything.

Me too if he’s hung.

looking for breeders I can text (usually week nights) to flood my hole when the party slut comes out in me. all loads wanted, just be discreet and horned for a cum slut. wouldn't mind a small group either. always looking when im online, alway hungry for raw cock.

love swallowing cum.......the feeling the in my mouth when the cock shoots....perfection for the faggot

2. Growing Pains The second clip was more professional, close to studio in the way it was edited. Seated on a couch was Klaus and the boy who was the centre piece of the first clip. His hair was in a bun and spotted hints of facial hair. It took a while for me to recognize him. He really looked like a sweet guy. Definitely my type. Klaus called him Cameron. From the mirror, Ludvig behind the camera. Klaus lit up a pipe, holding his breathe before kissing Cameron, exhaling the smoke. In addition to the clouds formed, Klaus's face was still hidden from the cap he had on. They did this for a while before the clip cut to Cameron in a room, undressing himself to put on a jock. The jock I had worn last night. It was cleaner. He put on knee length socks, a pair of split shorts and a tanktop. The next cut was him walking into an abandoned complex, probably what was once a community gym. He entered the locker and Klaus seated, legs apart on a bench with a tight golf polo on paired with chino shorts that hemmed right up the knee. His thighs were massive. What Ludvig had for arms, Klaus had in legs. I now saw his face. A sharp jaw, thin lips with a chiseled nose. His hazel eyes cradled his symmetrical brows. Overall, he was cleanly shaved with little stubble. If any, it was what defined his jaw. He was younger than Ludvig. Klaus spoke, saying how Cameron's late for his training. It looked like an athletic jock themed porno was about to begin. I had to give props to their dedication. "Sorry, coach. Was nervous to have this private one on ones.." "About that, it's no longer one on one. Some pals of mine from that conference a while back are here to help. Fellas?" On the other side, close to the communal shower, 5 men entered from the hallway. They were more or less around Klaus' age, around early 40s. Like him, they were fit and wore different kinds of athletic attire. Tracksuits, crop tops, polos, baseball caps. Each wore an outfit to show their seniority. They were muscular and definitely more athletic than most men. With only a glance and a nod from Klaus, the men ambushed Cameron, pulling him onto the bench, arms and legs tied to each end in a bright red paracord with barely any resistance. The men were quick and careful in their knots, mounting him to only half of the bench, ass lifted up, and his torso leaning down, faced to the floor. Klaus fingered his hole, slapping it and playing with his jock, pulling and snapping it. Then, one of the men approached with a bag of white shards. He grabbed the boy's mouth apart to have his fingers soak to coat with the substance. Pushing his index finger in Cameron's hole right after, his first moans for the night came out. Cheers from the other man came around mixed with encouragement and praises of how he was a good player. While his hole was brewing and slowly igniting the pig in him, Klaus and the other coaches were making themselves comfortable. One stood right in front Cameron, staring down at him and some leaned onto the wall of lockers, acting only as watchers. Klaus disappeared for a moment and returned with a suitcase that revealed wooden paddles ranging in sizes. By now, Cameron's breathing grew heavier and louder. Animalistic as intended. "Training starts now, boy." The smallest paddle was used first. Then it got bigger. Much to my surprise, Cameron took the first 3 with little difficulty, even with his ass cheeks turning red. Only yeahs that were reciprocating the cheers of the men around him. There were 2 more. The second last one gave him a scream. "Can you take it boy?" Cameron shouted Yes, with full confidence. Klaus continued for another 8 times only seconds in between. Cameron's face got red, tears slowly falling. He persisted. "You're doing well aren't you? Ready to level up?" Again he proudly exclaimed his agreement, even if sounded like he was about to cry. The largest paddle was passed through the crowd, reaching Klaus who thoroughly inspected it. He slowly placed it onto Cameron's cheeks, gauging the distance of the gap in between before telling him to get ready. Cameron adjusted his legs higher as he could through the restraints, hole further exposed for everyone to see. It was blooming in between the cheeks that were red and rosy. Without any warning, Klaus went straight to it. The pitch in his scream increased higher than I expected. It almost sounded like a squeal. The men seemed to enjoy this sound coming out from him. "There's the pig we want. You've done exceptional. We're all proud of you." Cameron could only shiver in the aftermath of those paddles with an excitement of accomplishment. His sweat made the tanktop he had on damp and wet, causing one of the men to turn it over his head, chest now exposed. The same man then opened a locker to pass Klaus a small box. The second act was about to commence. In it were two metal clips that were strung by a chain. There were also steel orbs with hooks. The man who had passed the box was now pinching Cameron's tits, twisting it and pulling it like harp, causing Cameron to moan in a state of both pain and pleasure. Before latching it, Klaus gave the clips a few licks to properly lubricate it. Letting go of the fulcrum, Cameron screamed again. The other men took turns pulling the chain, placing different number of orbs to weigh the clips down. Cameron's lust filled agony continued. When the clips were taken off, Cameron could only beg to have it clipped back. The men laughed. "Looks like we've trained you well huh boy" End clip. *** It was now 9:15 and a tiny spot of precum now formed on my shorts. I should get ready and maybe watch the rest on the way. The weather was not as chilly as I thought it'd be and I didn't want to layer much. Feeling a bit adventurous, I went commando and put on a pair of jeans with a white tee and a heavy hoodie over me. I regret not being able to watch the last clips in one setting. It was hard to not have someone look at your screen in the streetcar. It was also harder to try and keep my boner down during the entire trip. I could only skip parts of the clips as I stood close to the handicap seat where there were less people. 3. Smoke and Mirrors The third clip was the shortest and was perhaps the weirdest. It began with a hypnotic spiral before fading into montages of Cameron's transformation. I now realize how old these videos were. Probably more than a decade which is why it was hard to recognize Ludvig. The phones they used still had buttons. Cameron was probably my age then, fit as one could be and a classic jock. His hair was still short. First photo was him taking a mirror selfie, probably to post on craigslist. Next, him in bed with Klaus. After, them smoking. Ludvig now appeared in between. The montages were photos in black and white filter, played to a sort of trance music. A shot of Cameron now spun out, then spit roasted by both men. The photos repeated in flashes, transitioning to the next scene documenting Cameron's body progressing, muscles increasing with cuts of him taking loads from different men. Finally, different shots of hole was shown, ranging from being barely wet to full on loaded. The video ended with Cameron lying on his back, getting "+VE" tattooed on his back, right above his ass. He was also now spotting a thick guiche piercing. His ass had become rounder and firmer over the years. He still had his bun, but with both sides shaved to a fade. As the video concluded, I wonder whether this is what Ludvig had in mind for me? Before I could watch the final clip, I reached my stop. As much as I was still turned on, I was also confused a little, questioning the possibility that I could be Cameron. If I did, I wanted to leave a bigger impression. I wanted to not just fill his shoes but walk in them as my own. I became less horny to continue watching. Rather, I was excited to find my way to where Ludvig was. Once I got out, I made my way across a row of commercial buildings mixed with newly renovated townhouses, slowly turning into the original area that it was with dilapidated apartment buildings and abandoned industrial lofts. Finally, in front of a brutalist tower, I buzzed Apt 24. I got up and thought maybe I still had time to quickly watch the last clip. 4. To New Bonds Usually, I'm impatient when it comes to elevators but I'm glad that I was in an aged building. I skipped through the video as I ascended, each floor beeping in my overhead. Though I didn't catch much, it was essentially Cameron getting gangbanged, in different places and time. In slings, at a motel, even in public. There was also a part in the middle I skipped where Klaus had his arms around him, cuddling close in the bath tub while Ludvig emptied a bottle of pills into the toilet. I reached my floor before I could finish what I watched. The hallway had only 4 doors and the door with 24 was slightly ajar. I knocked, pushing it open to darkness with little light. Ludvig appeared in a black satin robe, leaning in for a hug while he held two glasses. We made our way into the living room where the only source of light was a projector that played a video of Ludvig fucking some guy in a hotel room. As always, the bottom was spun and Ludvig was a stallion. We sat on the couch and clinked our drinks. It tasted bitter, like metal. Similar to what I had before but more. Ludvig then took out some pipes which by I was now no longer reluctant to take. The smoke was thick and sharp. One had to be careful with the fire if not to burn and ruin the taste. Ludvig instructed me how to smoke and even blew some in my mouth. We started to make out from then. "How did you like the videos?" "Didn't get a chance to see the last one but I loved what I've seen so far" "Good. I knew you would. They'll be here later, after midnight maybe" "Klaus and Cameron" "Yep...and maybe some more" I started to feel the rush I had felt again and became excited at the prospect of having a crowd around me. Eyes now wide and dilated, the night had begun. Ludvig was more accommodating tonight, pulling my pants off, smiling at how I had nothing under. He did as much as he could, slurping my cock in his mouth, though it stayed limp. He didn't mind. Soon, my legs were brought up and my hole was his honey pot. I only gasped before moaning, opening it wider. He reached out for a vial on the coffee table, mounted on top of me and looked at me in the eyes. I knew what was going to happen and nodded in silence. "It's more potent than last night. You'll be able to handle it" We stopped to continue watching the screen. I lied in his arms and he slowly caressed my nipples, pecking my neck at times. "I want you to see the last video" The screen changed to that familiar title screen, To New Bonds, and there he was, Cameron whose blindfolded, no restraints on all fours in a motel room. Same jock I worn, now showing signs of usage. Sharpie hung on the band. The bed sheets were outdated, and the blinds were dusty. Klaus was at the top of the bed, lied down for Cameron to suck him for the rest of the night. All kinds of guys came in to drop their load, marking +ve on the left or -ve on the right. The tally ended up to 6 poz and 14 neg. A jar was put under his hole to release the loads. All which he gulped without a thought. I was fixated on this scene. Next scene was when he was in the bathtub and now I can hear what was being said... "You're done with this aren't you?" Klaus whispered into his ears.. "Yep, no more.." "Bye bye then.." Ludvig uncapped the bottle of Truvada, dropping the pills. Now it was him in the same sling he had been, holding the piss. They were only 6 men now, Klaus and Ludvig included. It had been 6 hours since they left him. "Cameron, you've been nothing short of amazing these past few months. We admire your dedication and your willingness to be a part of us." Ludvig began. "We think that the time's now and we couldn't be more ready to have us be a part of you forever.." Klaus continued "Your check last month came out negative and you've been off prep for 2 weeks now. We've stopped our meds for a year now. If timing's right, it's the perfect time to breed" "Are you ready for your final training?" Cameron, spun and high as he was, replied lucidly. "Yes. Make me a part of the family." For the next 40 minutes, each of the men took their turn to fill Cameron up with their potent seed. When the plug was first pulled out, there was barely any piss leaking. Klaus came in the most, at about 7 times. When the plug was put back on, Cameron was left in the sling again. A time lapse then showed about 4 hours passing before Ludvig came into to unhook him. His legs were shaking, almost impossible to make a step. He had to be supported by another guy who had left 4 loads in him. A towel was also placed around him. In his limps, his hole was still leaking. The final scene was Cameron in bed, sleeping soundly with Klaus spooning him. The end credit showed a web screenshot of a test, labelled positive with Cameron's full name at the bottom. Right as it ended, Ludvig held my head to lean in for a kiss. We embraced and I now heard footsteps coming in. In the flesh, Klaus and Cameron appeared in the room, under the projection lighting they stood watching us. We didn't stop. I caught a glance of Cameron who is now completely different. He had tattoos across his shoulder and arms. Klaus on the other hand looked shorter and was still clean shaved. By now, my high had increased tenfold and I started to spun. I was trying to catch up with my breathing and paused myself from Ludvig. Cameron came down to me, "I know that look. You're ready aren't you?" I only nodded, eyes glossier than before. Klaus then said.. "Let the party begin now, yes?" The next thing I know, I was carried into a room with only a mattress on the floor. My limbs were tied like I had been before, but now tighter. My legs and arms were extended as far as I could, and I remembered the same jock being put on me by Cameron. A ball gag was placed into me and soon, Ludvig was setting up the cameras. A chest was brought in. Klaus took out a toy one by one, placing it in a row in front of me. Buttplugs and dildos to rings. I could only focus on my breaths, trying to process everything while I feel my nerves electrifying more than I could possibly imagine. Anything they did contributed to the pleasure I was experiencing. Klaus then passed a string of anal beads to Ludvig who now inserted in me. Before the first ball, he informed me that more of the T was going in. "I've lubed this with more shards to make this a night you won't forget" I took all 6 beads in. The 3 men stared in amazement. Cameron took the liberty to pull it all out in a single move. It felt amazing. I started to drool in the gag. Then, I felt a strong whip on my back. I screamed. "We're going to oscillate tonight. Let's see if you can handle that" And so in the next couple of hours, my pain and pleasure threshold were put to a test. I felt the whip tearing my skin while I had buttplugs of different sizes inserted in me. I was at their disposal in every way. Things took a turn when a hollow plug was placed in me and Cameron, who was harder on me than the other 2, came behind me to relieve himself. I felt his warm piss in me slowly filling my hole up with him telling how much of a bitch I was and how I'm just another pig like he was. When he finished, all of them took a break. Klaus circled around me with his phone. He then raised to make a call. "Hey Chris, you free to load a bitch tonight? It's like Cameron all over again." I could only stare at Klaus as he ended the call, smiling and crouching down to me to tap my face. "Tonight is going to be an experience like no other. We've learnt some new stuff and are more experimental now.." Ludvig then pulled out the plug from me, plugging it with another metal one to keep Cameron's piss. He too came up to tell me how happy he was to find me and how my life is going to change forever..

Part 13 I was reveling in the intense and absolute pleasure my chem-fueled hungry hole was experiencing from the deep hard unrestrained thrusts of Drew's hard insistent cock in and out of it. There was no pain as I had felt when he first slid his young bare cock inside my virgin hole. Now there was nothing but a growing need and eagerness for this hot gorgeous stud to fuck me for hours if he wanted to and to fill my ass up with his tina cum over and over. Correction, I heard my mind say. To fill my cheating married daddy ass up with his tina cum!! I ran my hands across his sweaty smooth pecs and started to play with his hard nips. “Yeah, son. Fuck me baby! Fuck your daddy's horny manhole with your thick raw hard son-cock! Make it yours son! I want to feel my jock son shooting his thick warm cum deep inside my guts! Please son...fuck me!” From beside me I heard Kevin say, “I told you how much you'd love a cock up your ass didn't I buddy? Just like Drew and Ryan and I all do. Your ass is hooked already isn't it?” he asked with a lewd chuckle. “Hell yeah it is man! You know it is! It feels so fucking incredible!” I turned my head in the other direction as I heard Ryan's voice. “And it feels even more incredible, Daddy Justin, if you keep sucking the glass cock and letting the fuck smoke magnify everything you're feeling with a cock stuffing your ass.” My eyes were locked on the once again full bowl on the pipe as Ryan moved it toward me, slid the stem between my ready open lips and lit the flame making the white smoke swirl and thicken. I wasted no time sucking on the pipe and letting the smoke enter my lungs and body and very soul, knowing it was controlling me. And I wanted it to! “Yeah Daddy, suck that fuck smoke in deep, just like your tight warm ass is sucking my cock deeper inside your guts,” I heard Drew whisper in a voice hoarse and full of lust. “Your no-longer-cherry ass sucking your own son's raw cock deeper into your partyed up cheating married ass. Eager to be filled up with our family's DNA when I breed you with my cum. My incest cum, Daddy. That's what you want isn't you sexy dirty fucking stud?” I felt my cock throb violently and felt a new arousal in my mind when I heard Drew say the word “incest”. It was so wicked and decadent and wrong...and it WAS what I wanted from him. “Oh hell fucking YES son! Fill daddy's cheating hole with your ropes of incest cum. I need it so bad my sexy fucker. Give me every damn drop of your incest cum! Do it! DO ITTTT!!!!” I think I heard Ryan and Kevin both say something like “Hot fucking Damn! Beg for it man!”. But what I heard for sure and clearly was Drew shouting out, “Now, Daddy! Here it cums right-the-fuck now Daddy. Filling your sweet hole with your son's dirty incest seed!” And with a powerful thrust into my stretched hole I felt Drew's cock throb and swell inside me followed by spurt after spurt of fresh hot cum coating my insides. Coating them with my son's incest cum! (to be continued)

Chapter 25: The Effects of AIDS Sir then popped in another video and warned us the video was quite graphic, and showed guys wasting from AIDS. He explained that he was showing us the video not to encourage us to determine if AIDS or even HIV was for us, but to show us what could happen to either of us. Sir told the trick that if he eventually decided to be owned by him, he would be required to go on prep and be tested every three months. Sir put in the video and it wasn't long before both of us said it was too much seeing the AIDS wasting guys. Sir was happy to hear that, as he wasn't planning on showing them much more. Sir then suggested getting back to experiencing things they saw in the prior porn, and they did. The trick first spoke up saying he was interested in experiencing what he had seen with the guy secured to the large wooden cross. Sir explained it was called flogging, and although a St Andrew's Cross wasn't needed to do it, it was the most exciting way. Sir told us to lay together spread eagle side by side the best we could. Sir went to his trick bag and retrieved another set of restraints and several different floggers. Sir came back with the restraints, and blindfolded us as he didn't want us to see them. In addition to floggers, he had an assortment of crops, paddles, whips and ticklers. Sir made sure our cocks were pulled from below us, and started tickling our cocks and balls with a feather tickler. Sir was amused at how ticklish we both were. He moved from our cock and balls to our backs, side and eventually our ears. After Sir worked our ears, he nibbled on our lobes, and stuck his tongue in them after he blew gently in our ears. Next up was the crop. He had a standard riding crop and used it on both of our asses. He started off very easy on each cheek, stopping when he saw us squirming some. Both of the cheeks on both of the boys were a nice shade of red. Sir lightly rubbed their cheeks to help ease any pain, then he kissed their cheeks, and slipped his tongue into each of their holes. Sir wanted the boys asses to feel a bit more comfortable before he used his round leather paddle with holes in it on their cheeks. This was Sirs favorite paddle, as it left amazing marks on their ass. His second favorite paddle was a granite one which could be either put in a freezer, or heated up to provide 2 very different sensations. He decided not to use it though, as a bit too much. Sir began paddling each cheek until they were a brighter shade of red then before. This time Sir took it a little further than their initial comfortable level. Sir continued with a cat whip, but focused on their backs rather than their asses this time. They were close enough where Sir could take nice wide strokes hitting both their backs. Sir started aiming between both their backs, giving them a pretty equal impact. Sir did whip them pretty aggressively but the impact was shared between the two. Later Sir would still take wide strokes, but the major impact would be on both of their outermost cheeks with the whip just brushing their inside cheeks. Once Sir finished, he cracked a large bull whip and said are you ready for this boys? In unison they said no Sir. Sir laughed and told the boys he had no Intention of using It on them and told them he wanted to hear them laugh again and took the feather tickler to them again! Sir then said he was going to fuck them both deep, and the one that didn't get his load would get it from the other boy. Sir made sure his load went deep into the tricks ass, as he loved seeing his boy fucked. Sir plugged the tricks ass first, and once his boy was loaded his boys, and suggested they shower together and call it a night. Before doing though, he suggested they watch a bit more porn and chug a few beers.The boys agreed, but would it really be the end of the night?

Been taking a med holiday. Been off meds for 2 months now and my VL shot up to 300,000. I’ve been hard all day knowing I’m toxic again. 😈

PART 9 Normally Marcus would have protested knowingly shooting his POZ load into an unprotected hole, but this morning was different, he heard the desperation in David's voice, he knew that David truly wanted his huge cock to fill up his jock pussy with his toxic seed. I spat on my hand and pulled Marcus' cock out of David's eager hole and rubbed my spit on Marcus' beer can thick uncut mushroom head then guided it back to that tight jock pussy. Marcus grabbed David's hips and slowly forced his entire cock into David. David moaned as Marcus bottomed out, "Fuuuuuck meee Marcus, you're so fucking huge, it hurts, but make me your bitch." Shawn became further turned on hearing this stud becoming a bitch for Marcus' big black cock. Shawn began to tighten his hole on David's cock, milking him and eliciting more guttural moans from David. I got up and went to the end of the bed and began jerking my cock while watching the three of them fuck raw. They all had gorgeous bodies. Shawn was tight and lean with smooth white skin, David had the body of a real jock stud, muscular with a small waist and thick ass and thighs, hair in all the right places showing how much of a young man he was. Then there was Marcus, this young stunning man, a smile to melt my heart and strong muscles. Seeing their skin rubbing against each other's becoming covered in sweat while cocks were pumping in and out of their holes. I kept jerking my cock with spit and watched Marcus' incredible bubble butt moving back and forth while he piston fucked David's poor boy hole. I couldn't handle watching his ass move like that. I got back into bed and shoved my face into Marcus' crack where I was able to stick my tongue out and let him fuck his hole back onto it, I was getting him so wet with my spit and he slowly began to open up further, Marcus reached back and grabbed the back of my head and pulled my face deeper into his fat cheeks. I grabbed his hips and began to really dig my tongue into his hole. He tasted so good. His hole was letting my tongue literally fuck in and out of it. Marcus quickly and dominantly told me, "Nick, fuck that hole!" I thought, "damn, I can't get my tongue any further up his straight ass." Then I thought, "fuck, he might ACTUALLY want me to FUCK him!" I'm sure his slutty girlfriend, Chloe would love to watch my gay dick sliding into him. I immediately decided I'd risk it and see if he really wanted it. I positioned myself against his body, feeling his sweaty skin against mine as he fuck David who was in turn panting and moaning using Shawn's boy hole. I grabbed my thick cock and shoved a couple inches into Marcus. "Ow! Shit, Nick." Marcus complained, but I didn't hear him tell me to stop, and he kept fucking back onto my slick cock, I took that as a greenlight and slowly began to push more on my cock into him, he froze as I was forcing my cock into his hole. David was still fucking Shawn which meant his thick ass kept fucking onto Marcus' huge cock. I grabbed Marcus, like I never had before, like he was MY fucktoy, he made whining noises I'd not heard before from him as I bottomed out into his hole. I don't know what came over me, but his submissive nature turned me on in the moment. I whispered in his ear,"You like having my cock up your straight ass Marcus? You want me to make it a cunt?" Marcus laid frozen and responded,"Man, don't say that. Don't call my ass a cunt." I'm sure he was meant it, I know he felt his straight boy masculinity threatened. I squeezed his body tighter and pulled him out of David, rolling him over onto his stomach and used my knees to shove his legs as wide as I could get them and pushed hard into his hole. "AH! God, shit, fuck!" Marcus cried out. I heard the pleasure in his cry. "Marcus, tell me you want this cock to make your hole a cunt." I demanded as I slammed into him faster. He didn't reprimand me for saying, "cunt" this time, he just moaned and let me fuck him harder and faster. I could feel that I was building up to a huge explosion. I could tell his ass, having only been fucked once by me was different this time. I think it had opened up to me and he was experiencing pleasure he hadn't before. I tested him by yanking my cock out and forcefully flipping him onto his back. I pulled his legs up and sat my thick leaking cockhead onto his hole, teasing it an inch or two. I said, "Look at me Marcus." He opened his eyes and stared at me, I was getting off seeing him like this. "Tell me." I continued to fuck his hole in a shallow way. He shook his head "no." I pulled my cock away from him, holding him spread out like a slut. "Do you like this?" I asked. Marcus said, "No." But he didn't move. I stabbed him hole with my raging hard dick and sank all the way into him as he let out a sigh of relief and I worked it in and out of his tight spit slick hole. I pulled out again and held my rod away from him. "This doesn't feel good?" I inquired sternly. He shook his head "no" again. He and I looked at each other knowing he was lying. I plunged my cock into him balls deep and began to fuck him hard, pounding my thick cock in and out of his asshole. His body was tensed up as I used him. He was panting hard and I looked down to see a steady stream of precum flowing from his gigantic cock laying against his defined abs and almost up touching his pecs. I watched it flow as I assaulted his prostate over and over. Marcus was quietly saying again and again, "fuck...fuck...fuck....ugh, fuck me. fuck fuck fuck." I head it though," I stopped buried inside him and asked, "Fuck you? You need me to fuck your straight ass?" Marcus was too far gone now. He was truly enjoying the pleasures I was giving his hole and prostate, and he was pissed I stopped. Marcus, grabbed my neck hard choking me and in his very masculine voice said, "Quit fucking with my mind Nick. Do whatever, you want me to say it? FINE! Fuck my straight hole into a cunt, but do it NOW! Fuck my cunt hard and make it your cumdump." He had taken control back from me, but I got to hear exactly what I wanted to hear and I grabbed his wrist that was choking me and slowly pulled it down to the bed, I leaned down and kissed him deeply and he let me! I began my assault again. He was like a slutty stoned prom girl, taking my cock as roughly as I could give it. I felt my hot load building up fast. "Fuck you Marcus, take my cum! Take my cum up that ass!" I started unloading into him, blasting his insides with ropes of jizz, filling his guts with my seed. I came so much I was delirious. I finished inside him. He looked at me and smiled that stunning smile, "you're fucking nasty bro, now get the fuck off me faggot, I need to breed some jock hole." I was kinda hurt by his words but he said them with that smile spread across his face. I knew he didn't mean it at all. He was just holding onto that heterosexual machismo. Which actually turned me on. I watched him yank David out of Shawn and push him to the ground. He forced his cock into David's mouth and he eagerly accepted. David was damn near deep throating that log. I was impressed this jock boy could handle it. "Suck it, yeah, suck that big black dick white boy," Marcus reclaimed his dominance. He pulled his cock out of David's mouth covered in spit dripping off it. Grabbing his under his arms, Marcus hauled David's wide muscular frame off the floor and pushed him onto the bed, "you ready for this dick boy?" I think David was a completely new man now having fallen into who he truly was this morning. David responded,"yes daddy, fuck my ass with that huge black cock. Fill me hole with your POZ cum." They were about the same age, but that didn't stop Marcus from being "daddy" and plowing that pole into those bubbly cheeks. Watching that huge wet uncut cock slamming into those white peach fuzz covered globes got me hard as steel again. Shawn noticed and without comment got on his knees to deep throat me. Watching David on his hands and knees being railed by Marcus and begging for his POZ cum gave me an idea though. I pulled Shawn up and began to kiss him, "look at your jock boy being fucked by that POZ cock," I instructed to Shawn. "It's fuckin hot," Shawn said, "I think I might already be in love with him," he giggled. I told Shawn, "Crawl underneath David while he's on all fours and kiss him, show him that he's loved." Shawn did as I told him. David eagerly made out with Shawn and accepted Shawn's kisses all over his lips, face and neck. I don't know how Shawn managed it, but he had somehow wrapped his legs around David and was fucking his hole onto David's cock. It was mind-boggling to the eye and it was no wonder David was about to have the best orgasm of his life. Marcus was hitting David's prostate with each furious stroke, and Shawn was milking David's cock with his tight hole. David began to shake, his whole body was vibrating almost violently, he could barely get the words out, "Oh my fucking shit! Shoot your POZ load into me! Breed me! Cum in me! Fill me up! Oh shit I'm gonna cum in you Shawn, oh my gawd!" David began yelling, screaming as he unloaded everything he had into Shawn I watched as it began to pour out of Shawn's hole. David's taint was pumping hard which made his anus jerk around Marcus wildly. Marcus in a deep voice yelled, "fucking take these POZ babies faggot, take all my cum up your jock hole," he began pumping his load deep into David, "you feel all that cum shooting up inside your ass, boy?" David just moaned, he had just experienced his first simultaneous cock orgasm and anal orgasm. He looked like he was drugged out of his mind. Lost in a fuck-haze...

My parents were out for the day and asked me to let the gardener in and pay him when he was done. He was late 30s, great bod, cropped hair and stubble. When he knocked on the doo I answered wearing just my junior jockstrap - I was a cocky little fukker. He stared hard bur pretended not to notice and I could see the outline of his cock starting to grow through his sweats. I asked if he'd like a coffee before he tried to which he said yes. We sat in the kitchen and I made sure he got a good look at my ass but still he did nothing. eventually I went up to him, put my hand down the front of his sweats and gripped his cock. He didn't pull away so I pulled them down and took his cock win my mouth - he was thick n smelled awesome. I messaged his balls and sucked harder. I said you can fuck my ass or cum in my mouth. he just mumbled mouth so I went back to sucking him and he shot s big salty load of sperm down my throat. He didn't get much gardening done that day.

chatted with a few years ago, here and on bugshare, but the TIM forum was best. and they used to have meet'n'greets where you could hang out with the guys, and it always turned into an orgy. fun times. I guess the only way to know for sure is to meet in person.

I did a scene for Knightbreeders. "Creature From The Sperm Lagoon" Dec 2014