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Went to Dallas Pride out at Fair Park in East Dallas. Was getting cruised by this hot Anglo who was at least 21 as he was drinking a beer, had his shirt off and was all sweaty, very fratty looking and a nice smooth body. He could tell I was checking him out (was way playing pocket pool, stroking his cock in his shorts). He got close to me and asked if I wanted it. I said I did and we went to one of the less busy bathrooms and into a stall. He pulled his thick cock out and I went down to suck him and he laughed, saying he wanted to fuck me. I wanted it bad, so I pulled my shorts off and got up against the wall turning my ass to him hoping he’d enter me, and he did, spitting on my ass and his cock. He pinned me up against the wall saying he could tell I wanted it and how bad he wanted to cum inside me. His cock felt amazing, stretching my ass out and he didn’t take long to bust his load inside me but kept stroking in me, and now was stroking my cock, telling me not to cum as he wanted my load too. He reeked of beer but I didn’t care. Hearing him say that almost made me cum and was now begging for me to cum inside me. he blasted his second load inside me letting out a loud exhale. As he slid out he said it was his turn and I wasted no time sliding inside him with just spit and stick. I loved that this total stud was taking me raw, no questions and was now begging for my load. I was so worked up I came in no time and kept stroking as he was eagerly begging for me to cum inside him again. There’s nothing hotter than a guy who looks and acts like a top but not only gets fucked raw, but takes loads too. And from a total stranger. I blasted the second load in him and was panting. My cock softened and slid out of him and he quickly moved to wipe his ass and clean up. As he did he mentioned he was there with friends and not to say anything if I saw him again as he didn’t want them to ask a bunch of questions. I offered my number and he declined saying he couldn’t as he’s seeing a guy. And that was it. Breeding some other guy’s BF raw in the bathroom. I’m guess he probably sneaks around like that regularly, knowing he’s hot and can easily pick up guys.

Chapter 16: Breed Me Hard! After Marc pulled out, I cleaned his cock, and he ate his load from my ass, snowballing it with me. We continued our conversation which was Inturpted by his need to breed. I explained to Marc that my step dad was very caring, and that he was open in letting me decide if I wanted him to poz me. It was a true connection between us. Both romantic and piggy at times. Marc said he loved that connection. I told him deep down, I knew my step dad wanted to poz me, and later learned that my real dad also had that desire. Marc told me he'd be honored to have me his gifter, just like I was honored to have my step dad be my gifter. I told Marc it was simply his choice. I didn't tell him that I had hoped for him to be my first son. As I thought about it, I f Marc decided he didn't want to become poz, id still breed him if he was on Prep. Deep down I however saw the fire in his eyes knowing he would let me gift him. It could be sooner, it could be later. Marc then looked at me and said breed me again. He said he didn't want it to be romantic as he wanted to see the piggy side of me. And he got it! I picked him off of the bed, slapped his face and then spit on his face. I noticed a necktie hanging in his closet, and grabbed it, tying his hands together, and throwing him ass up of the bed. I grabbed a bottle of poppers, taking several deep hits before sticking my finger up his ass, making sure that my fingernails were scratching the inside of his ass. Marc had never verbally committed to me pozzing him, but his actions said yes to me. I looked around to see if there was a visible toothbrush, however I didn't see one. Probably a good thing as at that point I would have brushed him hard. I thrust my dry cock in him in one strong thrust, making him yelp out in pain. The only lube was a small amount of blood from me fingering him. I didn't let him adjust to my cock. He got long hard strokes, with me pulling completely out on each one. I made him repeatedly tell me that he wanted my toxic seed. There was no hesitation in his voice. The more often he said it, the harder I pounded his negative ass. I fucked him for a good 15-20 minutes before I felt my nutsack pulling up, and then my cock starting to pulse inside his eager ass. This time the load went in shallow so that my poison could seep into his torn ass lining. I pulled a butt plug from the desk, and jammed it up his hole so my seed could simmer inside of him. Marc just laid there like a limp doll, with me on top of him. Our session was one of the most intense I've ever had with anyone. I untied Marc's hands, and we cuddled each other until our sweaty bodies simply fell asleep. No words were spoken. They didn't need to be, as the smiles on our face simply said it all.

"Let me slip it in, just a little. You've got such a cute ass, I need to feel your hole grab the head of my dick. Don't worry, I won't fuck you, I won't cum in you, just let me slip the head of my dick in a little." That's what Tom said right before he fucked me for the first time and filled my HIV negative guts full of his virus laden semen. He'd moved across the hall from me a few months before and I'd introduced myself and asked him over for a beer. He accepted and promised to reciprocate when he was settled. It was obvious he was gay, a big, butch black man given to wearing leather with tight white tshirts and equally tight, carefully worn 501s. I'd never been interested in men in the slightest, but I found myself attracted to him. He was ruggedly handsome, very fit and moved like an athlete. I couldn't help but notice the very large bulge in his crotch. Was it true what they said about black men? One night a week or so after he moved in I came in late and drunk from the bars and took a while unlocking my door. I could hear what was clearly the sound of Tom having sex through his door. His deep voice was growling urgently, another male voice whined and begged. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but hearing them made my dick hard. My bedroom was next to Tom's so I opened the window and collapsed on the bed, pants down, my hand slowly stroking my cock. I could hear better and made out occasional words and phrases, like 'fuck me' and 'breed you' and something that might have been 'knock', something or other. I listened intently, stroking my dick, imagining Tom was fucking me, and also wondering what would it be like to have sex with a man. With Tom? I shot my load as I heard Tom bellow, obviously cumming in the guy he was fucking. I licked up my load, wishing it was Tom's cum I was eating. The next morning I remembered what I'd done and tried to feel disgusted at being aroused by a man. Why did my dick stiffen when I thought of Tom's cock filling a man's ass with cum, filling my ass with cum? In any event, a couple of days later I answered a knock on my door and found Tom standing there. He was wearing a wife beater and cutoff 501s. His nipples had large rings in them and the bulge in the shorts was very large. My dick started to swell. "Come over for a beer, a new batch of homebrew is ready." I followed him in to his place and took a beer, he waved to the living room with the invitation "Have a seat." I did my best to sit so my excitement was not obvious, but Tom noticed. We made small talk and the beer went fast, it was good. He stood up and smiled at me, then slipped off his shirt, saying "It's hot in here. Do you mind?" I shook my head dumbly as he dropped his shorts and stepped out of them, then went to the kitchen saying "Time for more beer. Strip if you like, Mike. It's too hot for clothing." As he walked into the kitchen I couldn't help looking at his body, thinking to myself that he looked good. My dick stirred: I was more than a little aroused. I never been at all interested in men, but...he looked good. Tom came back with two bottles and towel. I looked at him and couldn't help staring at his cock. He was huge, completely flaccid he was longer and thicker than me hard, it swung back and forth heavily as he walked. His balls were equally large and hung low. There was a tattoo of the universal symbol for biohazard on his abdomen just to left of his cock. My dick stirred more, I was getting an erection. I blushed, Tom couldn't help notice it through my thin shorts. He looked at my crotch and smiled suggesting "Lose the shorts, Mike. You'll be more comfortable." I was startled to realize it was command, not a suggestion. My dick was fully erect. I slipped off the shorts. Tom smiled broadly as he saw my hard dick, which was oozing precum. I looked at his cock: it was stirring, growing. Thinking this encounter was going in a direction that made me uneasy, I considered leaving, but I didn't want to leave. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, but I was more excited than I had been in a long time. Tom smiled sat me and moved in his chair, I saw his cock stirring, thickening, the pink head just peeking through the foreskin was wet with precum. I couldn't help it, my mouth watered and I licked my lips. Tom beckoned to me, pointing at his cock, commanding "Come over here, Mike. I know you want to." I went and sat beside him, mesmerized by his rapidly growing dick, wondering what would it be like to touch it. As if he read my mind, Tom said "You can touch it if you like, Mike, it won't bite. Go ahead. I can see you want to." The truth was, I did want to touch his cock. It was fascinating. Only partially erect, his long thick, very dark black cock was much was larger than my hard cock. His foreskin hung long over the tip, precum oozed out. My mouth watered as I wondered what would it be like to suck it. Tom reached down and took my dick in his hand, stroking slowly. I moaned and almost shot my load. He laughed softly. He was seducing me. He twirled his finger around the head, smearing precum over it, and then removed his hand. My cock was hard and throbbing. Tom's hand had felt so good stroking it, and I had come very close to shooting my load, but he had stopped and in so doing, had frustrated me. I wished he hadn't. I wanted him to make me cum. I would return the favor: I wouldn't stop. I reached down and took his dick in my hand, marveling at my first feel of another man's penis. I felt him stiffen and stir in my hand, growing. The pink head peeked through the foreskin more, precum flowing. I stroked the head and loved the slippery feel of precum. Tom slipped his fingers in my mouth, I licked and tasted my precum. I wanted to taste his, I wanted him to cum in my mouth. I slid my hand up his hardening shaft, then down, pulling the foreskin back from the head. The head of Tom's cock was large, pink, wet. My mouth watered. I lowered my head for a better look. Tom sighed and whispered to me "Go ahead, Mike, you know you want to, you know you will. Suck my cock. Mike, suck me and make me cum in your mouth. Suck me off." My heart pounded as I looked as the fully erect cock. He was fully erect, had to be almost ten inches long, I hadn't known real cocks got that big, and he was thick. Tom took my head in his hands and pushed my mouth down to his cock, rubbing the head on my lips. My heart threatened to burst out of my chest as Tom whispered "Suck it, Mike, suck my dick!" I opened my mouth and he pushed in, sliding past my lips, rubbing the roof of my mouth, butting the back of my mouth. Tom grunted and pushed harder, the head of his cock slid down my throat. I couldn't believe I had a dick in my mouth. I loved it. He stopped with almost five inches of thick, hard cock in my throat. I was very surprised there was no gag reflex, Tom told me later that if a cock is long enough to put at least a couple of inches in the throat, it bypassed the reflex. "That's good, bitch, that's good. I knew you were a queer when I first laid eyes on you, knew I was going to fuck your pretty mouth and make you my bitch. Take it, white boy. Suck my black dick, white boy!" Tom fucked his cock in and out of my throat, using me like a fuck toy. I loved it, loved a larger, older black man using me, making me his bitch. Was he going to want to fuck my ass? I wouldn't do that, it was too risky. I wanted to. My dick exploded, squirting cum all over Toms' leg. He moaned and pulled his dick out of my throat and rubbed the head on the roof of my mouth. I felt spurt after spurt of creamy, tangy, sour semen jet out, filling my mouth and leaking out my lips. I gulped eagerly, loving that a black man had fucked my mouth and was cumming in me. I wanted him to cum in my ass. I sucked and swallowed, moaning, nursing all the cum out of his cock I could get. Tom fondled the back of my head while I sucked him and sighed "That was very good, Mike. You're a good cocksucker. I'm going to teach you the ways of man on man sex, I'll show you a world you never really knew existed, you'll love it. "Don't worry about being queer, lots of men like women and have sex with men. You will too." Tom shooed me away after a few minutes, saying he had a trick coming, that we'd do this again. That excited me, I knew I was his trick now, I hoped he wanted me soon. I was a cocksucker now and I loved it. Tom had me suck him off several times a week, sometimes there would be other guys there and Tom would tell me to service them. I did so gladly, eager to feel men cum in my mouth. One night after sucking Tom off I thought about the biohazard tattoo, I knew it meant something, but I couldn't remember what. I googled it and gaped at the results. Tom was HIV positive! I had been swallowing poz cum for weeks and he hadn't told me. It didn't take much research to find out it was almost impossible to get infected by sucking poz dick, even if the bottom swallowed cum. I also found that if Tom was on meds and his viral load was undetectable he couldn't infect anyone. I was pissed that Tom hadn't told me he was poz before he had sex with me. Then I became aware of something else: I was seriously aroused knowing I'd had a poz cock and cum in my mouth. I looked at pics of guys with the tattoos and stroked my dick imagining they were fucking me, that I was getting poz cocks and poz cum in my ass. Then I found breedingzone.com. I was amazed to find men that eagerly sought out HIV infection and others who looked for men to infect. It was obviously sick, but my dick was rigid and throbbing as I looked at the site. I especially liked the section for bugchasing 'fiction', especially stories where a neg bottom got infected, intentionally or other wise. I read several stories about poz tops 'stealth pozzing' neg bottoms, intentionally infecting unsuspecting bottoms. Is that what Tom was doing with me, grooming me as his bitch to take his infection? I wondered if he was on meds and what his viral load was. If it was undetectable he couldn't infect me, but if his VL was high....? I stroked my dick as I looked at a hot pic of a black top with a biohazard tattoo fucking a white man, bareback of course, and wished it was me. I wanted Tom to fill my neg ass with his poz cum, I wanted him to poz me. My dick exploded as I said to myself, 'poz me, knock me up, infect me with HIV!' Did I really want Tom to infect me? I decided not to say anything to Tom about him being poz, I would take whatever he wanted to give me. A week later I was hanging out at Tom's, we were drinking beer, both of us were naked and I had an idea that things were going to go further. I'd sucked him off when I first came over, he'd jerked me off and fed me my cum. I was idly playing with his cock, I loved the feel of it and hoped he'd let me blow him again. He was hard and oozing slightly, I lowered my head and opened my mouth. But Tom had another idea. He rolled me over on my side and snuggled up to me, pressing his body against mine. His cock moved slightly in the crack of my ass, I knew what was coming and moaned as the head of his dick nuzzled my ass and smeared precum on my hole. Now that the time was here I was scared. I wanted him to fuck me, but I didn't want to get infected. He pushed in slightly, I pushed back, shook myself and pulled away. "Don't fuck me raw, use a condom, please!" "Don't use rubbers. Don't worry, it'll be okay. Just let me slip in a little, I want to feel your tight hole around the head of my cock, just a little." "No, please, no, you'll fuck me and cum in me. I don't want to get infected." "I know you want it, you'll love my big nigger dick in you, you'll beg for it. "You're my bitch, Mike, just let me slip it in a little, you'll love it, you'll beg for all of it." I moaned and squirmed, pushing my hole into his cock, I wanted him to fuck me, but I was afraid. Getting his poz cum in my mouth was one thing, in my ass was too risky. I didn't know if he was on meds or not. "Just a little, I won't cum in you." He pushed in a couple of inches and pulled out, then in again, deeper. I moaned helplessly, needing to get fucked. It felt better than I could have imagined. Tom stroked in and out deeper and deeper, until the head of his dick pushed against my first internal sphincter. I whimpered, it felt so good, why didn't he just fuck me, just take me and fuck me? "Please, please fuck me, fuck me, cum in me, breed me, knock me up, please knock me up!" That was the first time I'd admitted to myself I wanted poz cum in me. I'd been having fantasies of getting pozzed since I'd found the bugchasing underground. He chuckled and started stroking in and out slowly, fucking me deeper and deeper, he hit the sphincter, paused and pushed slowly, I whined as ten inches of black dick went where nothing but shit had ever been before. Tom was going to fuck me, I was going to get semen from an HIV positive man in my ass, I was going to get HIV virus in my ass! If he was undetectable, it would be okay. It was hot thinking there was a chance he was infecting me. I wanted it. That woke me up, an HIV positive cock was fucking me and was about to cum in my ass! I didn't want to get infected, getting fucked felt good, but wasn't worth infection. I struggled and tried to get away. Tom growled in my ear and stroked his cock deep into me. It felt like the head of his cock was about to enter my throat, from the bottom. "Too late, bitch! Too late, you're getting what you want, Here it comes, bitch, cumming in your ass, breeding you, bitch, knocking you up, bitch, take my bug, yeah, fuck, bitch, take my fucking bug, gonna infect you good, infecting you good!" I felt his cock swell and pulse and a warm feeling filled my guts and jet after jet of virus laden semen erupted from his cock and filled me. Tom moaned and moved in me, fucking virus deeper and deeper in me. My dick erupted, pushed over the cliff by knowing I getting virus in my ass, that I could get infected. Tom had to have ripped me open a little when he fucked me with that huge cock and that HIV virus could already be in my blood. Had Tom had just infected me with HIV? He kissed me on the neck as he slowly pulled his softening dick out of me. I whimpered at the empty feeling, getting fucked had felt so good. "Don't worry about getting infected, Mike, it's only a matter of time before a pussyboy like you gets the bug, it might as well be now. I'm going to keep fucking my virus into you until I do infect you. When you're poz you'll be free, you'll thank me." I was Tom's bitch, I would do anything he told me to do.

Oh, what the helll....

Never get more random and anon than using collected loads and found used condoms.

Finally got to host the oft delayed orgy I have been planning for months. Always seemed to have something come up, or too many guys couldn't make it. Started at 9PM on Friday, but most people started arriving earlier which was fine. Gave everyone a chance to mess around a little and be ready to go when it started. It ended up being a total of 17 guys, 9 college bois, 2 guys mid/late 20s, 5 daddies, and me. This was the first orgy for my 19yo twink fuck buddy to fully participate in and I had him come over early because I wanted to make sure he knew he was going to be very popular and probably get fuck by just about everyone at some point. He just laughed that is why he came. I'm so proud he has turned into a total bareback slut. I took at least 7 loads and probably a few more. The twink got fucked by everyone at least once, but me and one college guy who only tops daddies. (No idea why, just his thing I guess.) A couple of guy tried to DP him, but he had to call it off. I think if they had been a little smaller they probably could have done it, but both guys were very big. The orgy lasted until around 5AM when everyone but the twink left. Both of us had our assholes very loaded and still horned up and since I hadn't fucked him yet, we had to go at it. We spent the next hour making love before getting some sleep. I'm glad his girlfriend is away for the summer so he is all mine until then. I'll go into more details on another thread.

My last load was this morning, in the woods off of a cycling trail: this is notable as it was my first time being bred outdoors… it won’t be the last 😈… but I’m getting ahead of myself. This story is best told from the first time today I was loaded up. I’m 40-year old GWM bottom, and yesterday I just got back home from a few weeks away, visiting family in the old country (read Europe, the parts where the gay scene leaves much to be desired… which ended up being a dry spell from my getting loads fucked into my cunt). So cue this morning, and even though I'm beyond jet lagged and can’t figure out if it’s lunch or breakfast time, the primal need to get a load (or more) fucked into my cunt before being sent home with cum dripping down my leg one out easily - and I launched myself out of bed with the light of day and opened Grindr. Thankfully, for my needy hole’s urge to get plowed, I found a 30 year-old hung versatile guy I’ve hooked up with in the past few months also online… and was at his place within less than an hour on the receiving end of his fantastic 8.5” long dick finally breaking my pussy’s artificial celibacy with so much precum, that when he finally bred me balls deep, I had already made a mess of the sheets by way of the leakage - that he had to change the sheets… But not before he announced a surprise he’d arranged for me: a buddy of his showed showed up and took out a nice fat Latin cock, and adding his load deep inside me. As every bottom reading this knows, the need for more loads had all but short circuited my logic centre of my brain… so I logged onto Squirt as soon as I was in the car, searching for my next donor. I found him heading to a local trail off of a bike path, and met up with him… getting bred for the 3rd and final time this morning in the great outdoors!

Love fucking around with guys cheating on thei GFs, BFs, husbands, wives...love getting loads that they should be getting and getting to breed them raw too! I love nothing more than hearing that their other half "can't know"...gets me rock hard! Recently started hooking up pretty often with this hot but trashy redneck inked redhead guy who's cheating on his BF...we swap loads out in their garage. Got another 18 y/o twink who's cheating on his GF and was surprised he likes to bottom too as he has a nice big cock, but wants "what his GF can't give him" and trust me, I give it to him!

This fucker has done me well over the years...

So...an update. He was down in San Antonio for CumUnion last night and hit me up on the way back. He didn't have a lot of time but we swapped loads in his car. Apparently he had a lot of fun at CumUnion as well.

South East London (England ) - looking for other London guys

Here’s me

Wrapping up a night of hotel hosting in Nashville, with some multi-cummers and hard breeders. Load count 12 unless I get one last minute. The first was particularly memorable, though - the guy slid the window curtains wide open and positioned my body on the bed so that anyone who passed outside could see me getting fucked and sucking cock. I don’t know if anyone passed or not. He made me beg him to fuck me, tell him how much I loved cock in my ass, and what a slut I am. What really made me feel objectified was the way he played with my nipples, cock and balls like they were his to play with. Which, I guess, they were.

Down my throat

If I cum hands free from being fucked, it doesn't make me lose my arousal. I guess because cumming hands free is so hot in and of itself. For whatever reason, I have not encountered that scenario. I agree with everyone else who says, no/stop means no/stop. If you want a scene where the top does not stop, it needs to be discussed ahead of time and a safe word used. If you prefer to be used like a human fleshlight without any regard for your health, safety, or pleasure, that is your right, too. Again, it is something you should discuss with the top, so he knows what you want.

Awww. Definitely gotta hear that story about that 18yo Twink with a gf who wants what his gf can't give him 😁 Please? Haha

Would definitely have to say that I’m 7. Need a big raw dick balls deep in my guts a dick in my mouth and someone sucking and or riding my dick. All raw of course .

Why wouldn’t they see it as reason to do so? You explicitly told them they should, in advance, and why. Why would you expect them not to take you at your word? You’re essentially saying, “If I say stop, don’t stop.” If you know that you will likely turn around and say “I changed my mind, I really do want you to stop,” then you had no business saying what you did in the first place. You need to realize that any propensity to call off a fuck-in-progress is going to be viewed as a significant demerit in a bottom in the eyes of most Tops, and can only work to your disadvantage if you want to be successful in bottoming. Rather than being concerned about whether Tops will stop when you tell them, you might be better served to focus on ways of either preventing the premature ejaculation, or overcoming the desire for them to stop.

I was up early this morning for my usual morning walk/jog/run and was on Grindr hoping that maybe some guys have today off and are looking. I'd had a lot of fun over the weekend hooking up with random guys in town for the state fair and the OSU vs. Texas game and thought most of that was over, but got hit up by a guy at a local hotel from Oklahoma looking for fun. I have a major weakness for redneck boys and he checked all the boxes, 21, blonde, 6 foot tall, beefy build, smooth body with big nipples, but sadly not that big a dick and a vers bottom according to his profile. I didn't care, I'd be willing to breed his ass. His profile indicated he was neg so my expectation was he'd want it safe so I figured I'd weed him out by saying I wanted to breed his ass. To my surprise he said he wanted to get bred and we kept the talk up. He liked my cock and was down for now, saying his check out was at 11am. He was nearby and I said I could be there soon. To my surprise he asked what I wanted and I jokingly said I wanted him to breed me too. He said he was down and liked that I wanted it raw. I joked back that "raw is law" and he agreed, saying he only did raw. I know playing with rednecks is playing with fire but I also know they almost all play raw. I asked if he'd been in town for the weekend and he admitted he was, that he lived in Arkansas but went to OSU and was in town for the game and had the day off from work. I can only imagine he'd been fucking like crazy over the weekend and I wasn't the only guy who'd bred him or who he had bred. That had me super horny and we switched to Snap so I could prove I wasn't fake, and also to confirm he wasn't. And he certainly wasn't as I got pics of him naked, stroking his cock and hearing him talk in his country accent. He hadn't asked about my status and I wasn't about to ask his, and guessing that he didn't mention he was on Prep on his profile I can only guess he wasn't and like me, just doesn't give a shit. I got to his hotel and went in and we were quickly kissing each other as we stripped down. He was down on his knees sucking my cock and telling me what a hot cock I have and how bad he wanted it. Clearly he does this often and that had me hard just knowing he's a slut like me. I couldn't believe there's big country boys like him that are as slutty as I am and it drives me crazy as I love getting with guys like this. I stop him a couple times saying I'm getting close and finally he takes the hint and we move to the bed and he's on his back spreading his legs so I can grind my hard cock up against his ass. I ask him if he has any lube and he says he wants me to fuck him spit and stick and I oblige, spitting furiously on my cock and in my hand so I can force my cock in his ass. Getting inside him takes little effort and clearly he's been getting pounded by other guys all weekend. His ass feels like its already loaded and bred and I'm tempted to ask, but honestly I don't give a shit. I tell him how hot and tight his ass is and how bad I want to load him and he's begging for my cock and load. Then he adds that I probably like fucking and breeding guys anon like this. I figure I'm never going to see him again, so why not be fucking honest. I say I do love breeding guys anon and that I love getting bred anon and can't wait for him to do that to me. His face lit up and he asked me if I do it a lot and I say I do, that I love giving and taking loads. He breaks into a smile and says he does too and that he was so excited that I wanted his load and he started begging for me to cum in him. I hardly needed the encouragement as hearing him admit to being a whore was all I needed as I was about to cum. And it felt good to be honest about being the anon pig I am. I know there's other guys like me too and it was hot to be drilling one and I blasted a ferocious load inside him that had him screaming not to pull out and to stay inside him. I loved that this big country boy was letting a deviant pig like me drill him raw and breed his ass. He admitted he was really close to cumming and wanted to fuck me rather than have an accident if I kept fucking him. I said it was cool and he again asked me if I was cool for him fucking me raw, and I said I was. I was on my back saying I wanted to look into his pretty blue eyes as he drilled me and damn did he drill me. He did a spit and stick and it was easy taking him that way except for when he thrust all the way in me as his cock was a lot thicker at the base than at the tip. He asked if it was cool if he used some racist words as he fucked me and honestly, yeah, I know that's fucked up, but also hot, and if it's a redneck boy like him its even hotter and I agreed to it, kind of hating myself for agreeing to it. He was using the words a lot and I hardly cared. I love having guys like him dominate and use my for their pleasure, even if they're slutty bottom boys like him, getting bred by random guys. I'm loudly begging for his load and not caring who hears me. His face is all red and I can tell he's close and can feel him shudder as he cums inside me. It's a shame he doesn't have a bigger dick and isn't a dominant top, but I don't care. He's probably been shamed all his life for having a smaller cock, probably been forced to bottom as a result and has gotten used to getting fucked, so I'm sure he likes the chance to top and be the dominant pig, and I'm not about to deny him that. He's not slowing down and continues fucking me saying he isn't done with my ass and again starts with the racist talk. I've long since made peace with that kind of shit just to get the white trash cock I love and I'm leaning into it, feeding into his hate fuck. It doesn't matter as he took my seed raw, so who's the bitch here? Pig boy dumps another load in me and I'm loudly screaming not to pull out, how hot it was, and brother, I am not lying. I wanted his load bad. He quickly slides out and is begging for my dick and load like the little bitch he is. I'm telling him how bad I want to breed his hole and that I bet he's been bred by a lot of guys this weekend. He's moaning with delight saying he did, and I'm egging him on, demanding to know how many guys bred his hole and without hesitating he said ten. I laughed and kept up my strokes and said he probably took every one of them raw and he admitted he did. I kept it up and he admitted he begged for their loads and admitted his favorite was getting tag teamed by two Latino guys who double penetrated him. I asked him if he liked Latino cock and he admitted to loving Latino cock and would do anything to get Latinos to breed him raw. And there we have it, his fantasy and their's coming together. I ain't gonna lie, I love thinking about breeding a hot redneck boy like him and having him breed me to, and I'm sure it fulfilled their fantasy. I would love to be with a guy like this, but know that it isn't realistic. All I can hope for is a chance at him breeding me and me breeding him and soon enough I do that, blast another powerful load deep in his guts as his face lights up and again he begs me not to pull out and to shoot every drop inside him. And I gladly do, collapsing on top of him once I'm spent. He laughs at me saying how good I was and that I must have needed it. I said I was and said he must have to. He admitted he'd hooked up earlier but the other didn't get him off and he was glad I wanted it. I knew I was right about him being already bred and held back from saying something. Instead I said I was glad he wanted to fuck me as I found guys like him really hot. He smiled at me and thanked me adding that he was nothing special. I came clean about fantasizing about guys like him and he laughed and said I should move to Oklahoma as there were lots of guys there like him for the taking. I'm trying hard not to clock watch and not wanting this to end, but know that our time is going to end soon even though I don't want it to. I jokingly ask him if he's going to drive back to Oklahoma with my loads still in his ass and he smirks at me and asks what I think. I jokingly say yeah, and he admits he plans on it and wants to stop and see if he can get more loads on the way back. I'm surprised and impressed by his honesty and admit to it. "You should take what you want" he said and there's truth to that. Too often I'm over cautious and afraid to ask for what I want in life. He gives me his number and says I should come visit and see what I think of Oklahoma and that I could stay with him. He admitted he doesn't come to Dallas often but does get here sometimes. We kiss deeply and I dress to leave, his loads still inside me, not caring that I smell of cum, lube, and ass. I thank him and tell him I had an amazing time and leave, hoping we will meet up again.

I'm 1, 2, 5, 6 & 14, love all of those positions

They actually did control the study for this effect and ruled out this potential explanation (or seem to think they have). They did it by comparing specifically the newly diagnosed HVL patients against the newly diagnosed patients who did not have a high viral load. The former group had signficantly higher sexual behavior in the 1 month after diagnosis than did the latter group. My understanding (not having picked it apart too carefully) is that this is the main point upon which their claim that HIV specifically influences sexual behavior is based.

So my bf is currently working for an airline company. It's quite fan I think travelling all around (although time is super limited) and he is abroad quite a bit (so we don't sleep wth me). I was unaware that this profession is quite gay friendly (preferred by gay men I mean). I have on the back side of my mind that he could cheat on me (I'm not sure if it's that bad actually but I'd prefer that I wouldn't know it and it wouldn't happen too often). I also worry a bit, if everything will be okay during the flight, if the passengers are kind towards him as he is with them. I think if he gets tired of all these duties and moving in the airplane corridor and serving meals etc and if his colleagues are okay. I know that if he has a hard time he wouldn't tell me because he keeps everything inside. He looks happy though. He found me a business class ticket for Edinburgh. It was the first time (but I hope not the last time) I went business. That's the way that every person should be treated. When in Edinburgh I could move with him hand in hand without raising eyebrows or any other body parts and that was so comforting. It was the first time to do that in public (we're together for almost 10 years). I met people there and spoke with them, it felt so refreshing meeting a new culture and saying hey he's my bf and not my "friend". I also got the chance to chat in english with some native speakrs which was fun. I just wanted to share these thoughts.

Well, I’ve got a big cock. But it won’t reach all the way down under.

Chapter 15: Afterglow Marc and I laid cuddled together in bed when he started crying. I said what's wrong babe? He said he was so happy that we finally got to fuck each other. I corrected him by saying breed each other. He smiled and said yes. I asked him if me being toxic was an issue. He said only partially, as it was a shock to him. He reminded me that it wasn't that long ago we were simply skinny dipping, jacking and sucking each other off, and now we were breeding each other. I told Marc that was interesting as he was the one that started our experimental stages, and I always considered him to be more sexually adventurous than me. He laughed and said yea, especially since I took your poz seed once tonight, and want to take more. I asked him why. Marc said he had never known anyone who had HIV before, but besides making me a piggy guy, I was still myself. He said in fact it was a turn on that becoming poz made me into a pig. I oinked at Marc and gave him a deep kiss. He said tell me what it's like to be poz. I told him it was rough at first. The fuck flu kicked my ass, but my step dad was there to help me through it. He was shocked when I told him my stepdad kept pumping his toxic seed in me while I had the flu. Although Marc's cock was semi hard while I was playing with his nips, he suddenly became fully erect. Marc asked me what I thought about my step dad being the one to gift me. I said that he wasn't my dad by birth, but my real dad was also positive, and they both seeded me recently. With that Marc said he needed to unload in my ass. Of course I obliged. Marc was a machine this time fucking me harder and faster that I ever imagined he would. It wasn't anything romantic, just pure primal sex. As I felt his cock pulsing in me, he blurted out take what could be my last negative load!

Not my story, I borrowed it from Reddit and Pozzed it up I read this while sitting on the toilet with my girlfriend still sleeping mere feet away from me. I got so hard. I jerked off and came all over myself. I just knew I had to "poz" it up and share it with my friends here on BZ It seems that there’s a different kind of intimacy and surrendering that goes into helping a straight guy explore his sexuality. Lots of the time, it goes like this: The first time we meet, it’s at a coffee shop or the mall. We take the time to dismiss the nerves and we’ll become more relaxed and comfortable. I’ll ask them about themselves, what they want out of life, their favorite things, that kind of stuff. I’ll always be genuine, I’ll always care, and I’ll try to be as kind as I can be. Then we go back to his place or mine, and I teach him how to clean himself. We’ll shower together and lather each other up. We might kiss, might not; regardless, I will lovingly wash his body and clean his hair. We’ll go over to the bedroom and lay down on the bed, and I’ll hold him. Usually the nerves come back and he’ll apologize for something, like being nervous or having a messy room… I’ll always tell him that it’s okay, there’s nothing he needs to worry about. I’ll usually try to hold him to my chest for a while, hoping that the sound of my beating heart soothes him. I’ll tell him that, “it’s just you and me, take as long as you need.” Eventually, he’ll tell me he’s ready… I’ll tell him to lay on his back, always admiring the body I’m about to make love to, then we’ll lift his legs into the air. “Ready?” I’ll ask… more often than not, his breathing will slow down, and he’ll gently nod ‘yes’ or tell me “yes”, meekly. I’ll open up a condom and roll it on, reminding him that, “if they change their mind about the condom to just let me know.” I’ll place my erection on their taint, and use my cock to massage a bit of lube across their hole. They might blush, moan, or get goosebumps; either way, I’m flattered. I’ll massage my lubed fingers into their hole to get some lube inside them, then I’ll guide my glans to their anus. I’ll look at them and begin to press the tip in. They’ll usually moan, gasp, hold their breath, or even scream. I’ll bury my hands and forearms under them, caressing their back and head, using my thumb to gently stroke their hair. “You have to push on me, [name], you have to try and push me out.” and that when it happens… his cherry pops. It feels like I’m breaking the seal, to an otherwise airtight hole, splitting and stretching him open to accommodate my exploring penis: feeling it constrict around my manhood. He might writhe in both pain and pleasure. He might scream. He might rapidly increase his breathing. He might even cry just a little bit… but he’ll almost always grab ahold of me, whether it be my arms, shoulders, or back. I’ll always hold him tighter, I might kiss him, I might lick or taste him, I might lock eyes with him… anyway, I love watching him surrender to me. Not even being halfway in, this is usually the part where he’ll tell me to take off the condom and impregnate him, cum in him, or (my favorite) breed him, but I know what I will be doing to him. I don’t know what it is about the actual penetration, but he always seems to change his mind about the condom after he’s been penetrated. I’ll take off the condom and explore him again. I’ll listen to him moan and surrender once more. I’ll feel his insides airlock around my cock and grip the tip as I slide in and out just a bit faster, relaxing as I thrust. I’ll ask him if he wants my cum, assuming he isn’t already begging me for it, I’ll tell him that my cum is all his. I’ll make him promise that he’ll take good care of my cum. Swear by this, and it’s all his. He swears, they always swear. I’ll massage his shaft and glans with my dominant hand, I’ll hold his head with my other. I’ll lock eyes with my new Baby Boy and do everything in my power to make his legs shake. I want him to be addickted to me, just for the moments that the world around us has fallen away, just for the moments I feel his hole throb, just for the moments that I’m inside him. “It’s all yours,” I tell him. I’ll begin to pump him full of my poz seed, forever marking him with my DNA. I’ll keep my cock inside him as I massage the cum from his penis. He’ll ejaculate some time after… and I’ll lick him clean. There’s no way I’m leaving Baby Boy dirty after we worked so hard to clean him. Once the high begins to dissipate, I’ll ask if he wants me to stay inside him or take it out. I tell him that I can usually go for a second, or even a third, round. After they nut, I honestly hope they begin to fall asleep because I love cuddling them: even better, I love it when they can’t sleep and ask me for round two.

Since you said dick here's mine.

YEP it's Two For Tuesday! Chapter 12: The Talk We sat down and took a big swig of our drink, when Marc just said "well?" I told him there was a good reason that I didn't breed him, and I hope that he wasn't mad at me. I kissed him, and caressed his hair, telling him that i was positive. Marc pulled back somewhat with a look of suprise on his face. He was speechless for a few minutes as he chugged the remainder of his drink, and got up to pour another one. When he got back, all he could say was "what? How?" I said well i think you know the how part. He didn't find that funny however. I told him our experimenting lit my sexual fire. I continued by saying I wanted to take that experimenting to the next level, but somehow it didn't seem like the right thing to do at the time. He agreed saying he felt the same way. He then asked why now though? I told him it wasn't to gift him, but I knew we had more to explore. I explained that I knew he did too, and reminded me that he was the one to invite me to visit, and I'm sure he wanted more experience also. He nodded his head in agreement. Marc then began to ask me questions, starting off by asking me if I knew who pozzed me, and if it was something that I desired. I explained that it was an older man, and we had taken a great deal of time discussing the possibility. I told him my appetite for sex was crazy, and came to the conclusion that it would be even more so if I was poz. Marc then asked another bombshell question. Do you want to poz me. Of course I got up and poured 2 strong drinks, giving me time to come up with an answer. When I returned I looked Marc in the eyes and simply said if I had wanted to poz him, I would have dropped my load up his ass. I explained that i hadnt been poz for a long period of time, and it was likely my demon seed was very potent. Marc put his head on my shoulder, and started to cry. I stroked his hair saying it's alright babe. I continued by saying that as our sexual awakening started with us, I thought he should know. Marc said his tears were tears of joy, and not anger. He continued to say he wasn't joyful that I had become poz, but if I was happy, so was he. Marc then said he had so many questions, and I said fire away. He started by asking what all I had done? I simply said it's easier to tell you what I haven't done! First of all ive never done drugs. Sex was enough of a high for me. I told him I had been gang banged, double penetrated and even had my ass brushed to help the virus enter my body. I then turned the tables and asked him the same question. He said he hadn't really done much. Mostly give or receive oral. I asked why not, and he said it was difficult meeting guys he didn't really know. He explained that it was easy with me as we knew each other. He said hosting was also an issue for most college students there, but obviously now it would be alot easier. Marc then asked me what my friends and family thought about me being poz. I explained that he was my only true friend back home, but now had many friends who led me on my journey to becoming poz. Surely enough he asked about my parents. He added having a new step dad must have made it tough. I started by saving that my mom didn't know, but indirectly she played a role in it happening. Yep time for another swift drink before I told him my new step dad was the one that infected me. Marc smiled and said another drink? This is going to be interesting! I took a big swig and blurted out that it was my new step dad that infected me. Marc spit out the drink that he just had. He said he knew we were fucking each other, but had no idea my step dad was poz. I told him we had a very loving relationship, and that he let me decide, and would love me regardless of my ultimate decision. I told him about our undetectable pozzing party and after that, I decided I wanted to become poz, but only by my step dad. By now we were both hard as a rock, and slipped into the 69 position. Marc was super excited and sucked my cock like never before. Just as I was about to cum, he said feed me your poison seed! And that I did!

I had gone to the bar as I usually did after work. I had met up with Tom and Joe; they were tops that I usually met up with for sex. We were having a beer and chatting. They had spoken with me about the upcoming bareback party. "Fred, you're going to the party, aren't you?" Tom asked. He was leaning against the table where I was sitting. Joe also leaned against the table as he said "You'd best be there, they need more good bottoms." I wasn't sure what he was implying, but I took a gulp of my beer and said "Sure, I'm going; are you both going to be there?" They both shook their heads yes. Tom and Joe were looking for the younger type of men they preferred, and one by one they left and joined the crowds prowling. I finished my beer and left, as I didn't want to become one of their or others targets. On the Friday night of the party I had pondered about it and decided for sure I would go. I parked about two blocks away and walked there. I paid the entrance fee and then stripped in the locker room. I wore my usual black leather harness and jock strap. I scouted the party area and found it fairly well occupied. Several men were looking for bottoms, including Tom and Joe. Tom walked over to me "Are you picking out who you want first?" "Of course" I replied. Joe said "The slings are busy, but there's a St. Andrew's Cross across the floor over there. Want to let us get you started?" I figured I'd start out easy, so I said "Sure." We walked over and they put my arms up in the padded cuffs, making sure I was facing the cross, and spread my legs, not bothering with the ankle cuffs. Joe had some lube with him, and he greased up his cock and my ass, and he slid in without as much as saying anything. I had previously greased up my ass in advance, as I figured I'd be bottoming for most of the men there. Joe was pretty much the same as he'd always been, just a fast fuck. He didn't cum, just looked at Tom and when he pulled out, he took over. He was also a fast fucker, but he didn't get off either. When he pulled out he turned to Joe and said "Let's go see what else is available." They left me attached to the wrist cuffs, so I was stuck where I was. At this point I was pissed. I wanted to be really fucked, but they had left and I couldn't get out, as the cuffs were secured to the posts of the cross pieces. So I had to just stand there and listen to all the guys that were enjoying themselves. I could look over and see a couple guys in the slings, both being well fucked, with a crowd of men around, urging them on. As I hung there, kind of discouraged, I smelled cigar smoke. Then a man walked up to me. I looked down and saw the fingers of a black man working my nips and balls. Then I felt his hardness against my ass, about the same time as I was aware of a big black cigar coming over my left shoulder. He took a big drag and then removed the cigar from his mouth and let a big cloud of cigar smoke surround us. "You feel left out, young fellow?" he asked as he slipped his cock up my greasy hole. I inhaled a big breath of the smoke before I responded "Yeah". He grasped my hips and pulled me back a little to make my ass more open to him. The cigar was still over my left shoulder and he took another big draw on it as he went up my ass. "You're pretty open, boy, but not all the way" he said, as he hit my second sphincter. Now at this point he was pretty much as far up my ass as any man had ever been, and I was shaking from the feeling. I think he realized that as he took another big drag on the cigar. "How about I let you down off this cross and give you a nice ride on one of the slings?" I didn't want to loose his cock out of my ass, but I did think it would be better to be lying down before he pierced my second sphincter, so I said "Sure." He unfastened the two wrist cuffs and I was able to get my arms down. It made me feel weird from tired muscles, but I was able to turn around then and see who this man was. He looked to be over 40, was about 6'2" tall, black, as I already knew, and was wearing a harness and chaps and a leatherman's cap, plus big boots. He had a nice face, sort of long, with bright eyes, and a big smile. I couldn't see his hair, but he had a short beard and mustache and what I could see of his body was muscular and covered in short curls of hair, and some of it was just beginning to turn gray. And of course he had a big black cigar in his jaw. He was standing there with his hands on his hips, just looking me over as I was doing the same to him. "You like what you see?" he asked. I was really staring at his big cock, which had to be at least 10" long and so thick I didn't think my hand would reach around it. I looked up at his eyes, and said "Yes, I do." He smiled and took the cigar out of his mouth after he took a big drag, and he took me in his arms, bent me over and kissed me and let the smoke out as we kissed. He was holding me close, and it's a good thing, as I felt like I was going to collapse from the kiss and the smoke. He pulled me up, put the cigar back in his mouth, and turned me around toward the slings. The first one in front of us was open, so he led me over to it. As I began to get into it, he removed my jockstrap and laid it aside. Then he let me get in and got my feet into the stirrups and made sure I scooted down so my ass was over the end. Then he walked around the sling, took another drag and leaned over me and gave me another big smokey kiss. One thing I can say, regardless of the smoke, he knew how to kiss. I would have been happy to have spent the evening just kissing with him. He walked around to the front of the sling, made sure his cock was erect and greased well, and he penetrated me as if I was not there. I wasn't prepared for that. He was right against my second sphincter before I was ready for him. He had a hand on each sling chain and began to move the sling against him; out as he pulled out and in as he fucked. My second sphincter was bounced against, then seemed to be opening up, and then he was in all the way, ALL the way. I had never had a man so deep inside me. He was smiling around the cigar, smoking it silently as he proceeded to fuck me. I was in sort of a suspended animation feel. There was something inside me that felt deeper into me and it was thicker than I had ever had before, and it kept going. I loved it! He was really fucking me, like I'd never been fucked before. And then he stopped, took another big drag and bent over and kissed me, pulling the sling to him as he did it. I took in the smoke with his kiss, and it was like he was kissing me and letting me in on some big secret, at least it felt like it. Then he stood upright again, put the cigar back into his mouth, and began to really fuck me. It was like what had gone before was just preparation, now we were fucking. The chains were rattling and men began to gather around. There was the usual shouted comments, "Let him have it! Show him who's the Daddy now! Fuck that ass, man! Breed him!" I was hanging onto the chains for my life, it felt like. He was really digging in deep, long strokes. And before I was ready for it, I could feel him cumming in my ass. I don't think I'd ever felt it like that before. My cock was up stiff and I began to spout. I couldn't ever remember a time like this before. He was grinning at me as he continued to fuck me, until he finally went flaccid enough to come out of my ass. When he came out I heard the cum splat on the floor, so I assumed he'd given me a big load. As usual at these events, he walked away from the head of the sling and there was a man to rim me and clean my ass up and eat all the cum, and then men began to take turns, getting into my open ass. He came up to me, took a big drag and bent down and gave me a long smokey kiss. "I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did!" he said. I was being pounded again, so I just said a happy "Yes", and he walked away. I guess it was three other men that fucked me after the big black guy. None were as good, and if they came, I couldn't tell it. When I was finally left alone, I felt wasted, worn out. I began to try to get my legs out of the stirrups, and found I couldn't move them well enough. As I was fumbling with this, the black guy came back and helped me out and up. As I tried to stand up, I couldn't do it, so he helped me along to a bench at the side and made sure I could sit properly. I thanked him, and he sat down beside me. I noticed his big cock was now just flaccid and floppy. It was still long, longer than mine erect. "My name's Leroy" he told me. "I'm Fred" I said. He looked at me. "Would you mind coming home with me tonight?" he asked. I thought about it. "I have a big place outside of town, big garage for your car." He had realized the reason I had not responded was I was afraid to be in a black area and leave my car out. I felt very badly about it, but I said "Yes, I'd very much like to go home with you." We disposed of our "party" apparel and dressed in our "normal" clothing at the lockers. Leroy said he was in a big SUV, and I said I was in a Ford Focus. He said he would wait for me out front. When I pulled up, he set out. It took us nearly a half hour to get there, including a little windy road through the trees, when we got to his place. He had a big separate garage with space for three cars, so there was plenty of room for mine. When I got out, he was closing the garage doors and invited me to follow him. I was pleased he lived in a rather large old home, and it was clean. He was still smoking the same cigar when we arrived. He took a final big drag on it, turned to me and kissed me so hard he wrapped his arms around me and bent me over, again releasing the smoke as we kissed. I had to admit I was getting accustomed to cigar smoke when he let me come up. He put the cigar in one of the many ash trays around the living room, took my hand, and led me to the bedroom. Again it was clean, so I was impressed. He didn't say anything, just began taking my clothes off, as I took his off. When we were both naked, he again took me in his arms in another big kiss. I could still taste cigar on his lips, but it was a fine kiss. He led me to the bed, turned it down, and let me get comfortable in the center of the bed. He climbed in over me, laid down on me, and we had another big kiss, or we just continued to kiss as he moved my legs about, getting himself between my legs. Then he bent down and took my cock in his mouth, all the way to the balls, and began to suck on me. Now I've had blow jobs. Some were quick, some were long, but he was sucking me! I had my hands in his hair and working his shoulders. He grinned when he tasted precum, but he just kept sucking. I couldn't help myself, I just went with it, and eventually I filled his mouth. I thought he was going to suck everything out of me. When he let me loose, he climbed up over and kissed me, sharing the load of cum in his mouth. I think that was the first time I'd ever had a guy suck me and let me have some of my own cum in a kiss. I felt wiped out. He held my head as he continued to kiss me. Then he moved back down, picked up my legs, put them over his shoulders, and began to rim my ass. I didn't say anything, just wondered if he was tasting more than his own cum. When he had both of us trembling, he rose up and stuck his cock in my hole. Now I know I was wet, but it had been at least an hour, if not longer, since anyone had been in there, and he was not lubed. But he just slid all the way in; I guess his previous load of cum had been enough to grease my channel. As he moved I had moved my legs from his shoulders to around his waist and he put his arms down beside me as he proceeded to fuck me like he was trying to fuck the shit out of my ass, really hard fucking You know I'm not a virgin; I've been fucked more than I like to admit. But he really did it. He was kissing me and loving me the whole way through. His dick was so long, I was wondering where he was putting it, feeling like it would soon be in my stomach. And I was kissing him back as he kissed me. I was in heaven. When he finally blew, so did I. I can't remember cumming like that, or receiving a load like that. He laid down on top of me, still filling me up, and continued kissing me, until we both fell asleep. Sometime Saturday morning, must have been after 9 AM, we both came awake. He was beside me, holding me in his arms, and I was enjoying being cuddled. We looked at each other, and he asked if I needed the bathroom. Did I? I was about to burst. So we got out of bed and he showed me the adjoining bath, and we stood side by side, pissing. Then he gave me a fresh toothbrush and got his and got us both toothpaste, and we brushed. Then we could kiss. "So, do you want some breakfast, or do you want to fuck first?" I was hungry, so I said "Breakfast first, then fuck." He smiled at me and though we were both naked, led me down the hall to the living room and then the kitchen. I took a seat at the table. He asked me "Cereal or bacon and eggs?" I said "bacon and eggs," so he got them out and gave me the bread to make toast and showed me the coffee maker and coffee. We worked side by side in the kitchen, he wearing an apron, and then as the meal was ready, he removed it and we ate beside each other. After my second cup of coffee, he asked if it was time to fuck yet. I said "Sure!" Now this time we didn't go back to the bedroom. First thing he did was go to the humidor and get out two cigars. One was long and black, the other was shorter, smaller around and cigar colored. He explained that the black was called Maduro and the other was called Natural. He showed me how to cut the rounded end off and moisten the end. Then he let me have the smaller one and he took the larger one. He lit the big one using a lighter that was very small and gave a very tight flame. He drew on the cigar to get it going. Then he lit the cigar for me. I'm not used to smoking, so I was coughing. He said to sip the smoke, like a coke, and then let it out. Don't inhale it like a cigarette. I tried it, and it was OK. The taste was not like what I had inhaled last night. It had more flavor. He said only suck in a little smoke for a while, and get used to it. Then he led me to the basement stairs, and we went down into what was revealed as his "play room". I was standing in the center, just looking around. There was a sling hanging with a stool ready for a person to sit in front of it if he was going to fist, a St. Andrew's cross on the other wall, and the opposite wall consisted of shelves covered in various sex toys. Over in the corner was an open shower, surrounded with tile flooring and a drain. While I was just standing there, occasionally smoking, looking around, he came over to me, wrapped his arms around me and turned my head to him, and kissed me. This was another big kiss, and my legs were about to let go. He helped me over to the sling and put me in it, and got my legs in the stirrups. Then he did something no one has ever done. He came to me and offered me his cock. I've sucked cock before, but never when I was in a sling. The head of the sling was down slightly, and there was a pillow of leather, so sucking him was easy, except for the length. I gagged several times, never being able to take his full length. I doubt I ever would be able to. When he felt he was "moisturized" enough, he went around to the head of the sling and greased up his fingers with one of the many lubes on the shelf beside him. He used his greasy fingers to open me up, first one, then two, then three, and when he was making me crazy bouncing around on my prostate, he finally began to use his cock. He gradually began to take longer strokes, until he hit my second sphincter. He then began to bounce off it, gradually getting it to open and allow him in again. Then he proceeded to show me what an early morning fuck was like. I was occasionally taking a drag off my cigar; he was smoking his all the time, never taking it out of his mouth, except when he would lean over and kiss me. I was having great fun again, feeling how deep he went. As he began to really get into it, moving the sling with his fucks, he began to slam into me. Long strokes, me moving close to vertical, then down to slam into him. I was having trouble holding on to my cigar. He could tell, so as he began to get close, he brought the sling down and just really fucked me hard. I took one final drag from my cigar and let it out as he really got into his final strokes. My cock and his let loose at the same time. I was spouting cum like a sprinkler in the center of the garden. He gradually let his strokes get smaller and smaller until he got to the point that he fell out of my ass. He leaned over and kissed me again, and again it was a long one. By this time it must've been noon or later, and my stomach was making noises. He smiled, put the cigar back in his mouth, and began to release me from the sling. I had put my cigar, what was left of it, in one of the many ash trays around the shelves, and he pulled me up and out. He also pulled me into one of his long kisses, filled with smoke. After that we took a short shower in the playroom shower room, and then dried off with the towels there. And of course he had to kiss me as he did that. As he released me, he looked at me with a question in his mind. I was standing there, looking up at the man. Even naked, he was taller than me, built, muscles everywhere, though he was not built like those muscle men you see on TV. He kissed me again, gently, and asked me "Would you consider coming back here sometime?" I thought about it as we climbed the stairs. We went back to the bedroom and I began putting my clothes back on and finding my shoes. He just stood and watched me. I finally decided. "Yes, I'd like to come back sometime. When do you want me?" He smiled at me and bent down and gave me another long kiss. "You think you'd like to live here? I am in need of a partner, someone to share my bed and my life." I thought about it. "Do you ever let anyone fuck you?" I asked him. "It has been known to happen, if the man is with me long enough to be sure." "Then I'd like to apply!" I said. He picked me up and kissed me and kissed me. Now it was not an easy thing, but we worked it out. It took a long time for my family to get used to an older big black man like Leroy. But when they discovered he was a good man, good to me, and good for me, then we were OK. And we always liked to fuck! Jerry Prince RawTopDad@aol.com November, 2020

One thing that is surely a part of it, is that they (perhaps unconsciously, perhaps not) envy our courage in living our lives according to our own needs. We tend not to honor (or even acknowledge) their assumed right to dominate everything, and we march to our own truth. That's gotta stick in the craw of the R's who have devoted their lives to maintaining their philosophy, however depraved it may be.

You hit on so many points of what makes a sling fuck so good. I love how it spreads the ass with ease and comfort so you can fuck balls deep on every stroke. I am amazed more men don't own one. The best sex investment I ever made. In my home a bed is for sleeping.

This doesn't really fit anywhere but it is porn (technically). Which guy are you? I'm 1 or 6

NICE! It sounds like we very similar tastes. I modified my set up a bit when I first bought it. I got rid of the chains - or more accurately, I got rid of the loud and annoying noise from the chains. I replaced the with 1/2” nylon coated steel cable that is absolutely silent and a lot lighter to travel with than chains. I added some powder coated springs (where the cables connect to the sling stand) and I have to say it was the best thing I changed. Its way more responsive and easier to “drive” for the tops, and the springs intensify the strength and force of the tops thrusts.

Yesterday I was in Chicago and decided to go to Steamworks. Got there about 4 pm Was not too crowded but got busy as day went on . Rented a room and showered and cleaned out. I put my room number on the board and mentioned bottom bb. As I was relaxing in the whirlpool a guy came over to me . He said are you the bottom in rm 104. Yes I said He said mind if we go back to your room and let me fuck you. off to my room we went He was about 40 and had a thick dick All he wanted to do was fuck. Lubed up a little and in he went He fucked me hard for about 5 min and then I could hear him moan, He shot o huge load in my ass. we must have been loud because when he opened the door another guy was outside He came in and said he loved a fresh bred hole. fucked me long and hard and came in me after 6 min or do when he left I left the door open The cum was dripping out of my hole I took four more loads before I had enough wonderful time

I confess . I suck cock behind my wife’s back. I’m a slut for dick. I’m probably scared to come out of the closet. I love being on my knees in front of a line of men! Truth is I’m very very good at sucking dick. I just want more and more cock to suck! Cock is so beautiful

Hey actually when in top mode with a 00 gauge the key is only to fuck gaping well used holes. If a guys is tight, then more on, there is no pleasure, it’s the true benefit of a well used gaping open hole, which ensure the top and bottom get max pleasure and sensations very safely.

While living in Chicago, opportunities for kinky opportunities ran rampant. Especially in the Roger's Park area. I was horned up after an especially stressful day at work. I hopped online, pulled up BBRT, and looked at the day's selection. There was a very handsome, lithe black top man looking to breed a hairy slut bottom. To top things off, he stated he was super dom and wanted a bottom to just shut up and not ask questions. He wasn't into partying, but didn't care if bottoms pre-Tripped. I messaged him a shot of my hairy arched back and fuck hole. He responded right away with an address. He asked me a question. "Do you mind that I'm deaf and mute?" "No. Why would I?" "Good. I want you to come to my place, but don't come in. Wait by the downstairs at the bike rack. Be pre-lubed or you'll take it dry, and I can't have my roommates or neighbors asking questions. Once you show up, you consent to do as instructed without any hassle. No fucking noise." "Hot." I was nervous as I took the 22 to his neighborhood. I stepped into a coffee shop, and ordered an Italian Soda. I walked into the bathroom, tied off, slammed myself .4, coughed, rode the rush, and poured out most of the Italian soda. I pulled another syringe out, and emptied the G into the remainder of the drink, and knocked it back. Losing any nervousness I had, I walked the few blocks to his building and waited by the bike rack of his old apartment building, which was also nearby the basement entrance. He emerged from the basement door. He motioned me to follow him. He was a little more muscular in person, and definitely had the air someone who was very dom. I followed him into the basement which stored more bikes, maintenance supplies, and laundry machines. He opened up a dark room that was used for storage, and had a mattress on the floor. It had definitely seen some action before. He motioned for me to come toward him. I went to suck his d*** and he slapped my hand away. He grabbed the back of my neck and pushed me onto the the mattress. He positioned himself behind me, and reached into a bag he had placed beside it. He took out a ball bag which he promptly strapped to my head so I couldn't make much noise. He then put a blindfold on me and pulled it very tight. I could still see a little light out of the mask edges so it became obvious when he turned off the room's light and I heard the door shut. He shoved in with no mercy, and fucked me doggie styles so fucking roughly that I thought he was going to tear my hole. In five seconds he obliterated my second sphinctre. Even with the chemical help, I was trying to scream, so it's was fortunate for him that he had me gagged. I didn't care I was really turned on. He pulled my hair. He choked me. He made little punches in my back with his fists while keeping his fuck rhythm. It seemed like he was fucking me forever when he put me in a choke hold and choked me out. When I came too, I was still being fucked but on my back this time. I was still being f***** hard but somehow I felt fuller and it was just different. He was biting my nipples and slapping in my face. Out of nowhere he said, "Are you ready for my dirty load?" Confused but turned on I just groaned. He pulled my waist up higher so he could force fuck me and just drill me. I couldn't breathe and I thought I was gonna pass out again. And then he just grunted and pushed in me and held his giant cock so far inside my guts that I thought I was going to rupture. Then the blindfold was taken off and it was so dark I still couldn't see anything. And again he spoke, "Okay i'm gonna take the gag off now, if you say anything i'm going to lay you out." I heard him zip up the gear bag, and the light clicked on. Between the drugs and the bright light I couldn't get my eyes to focus. " I thought you couldn't talk." " Yeah. That's my roommate. Now get your clothes on and get out of here you fucking tweaked out slut." When I could see again, before me was a very muscular, hairy Middle Eastern wolfdaddy. He had put on a jock that contained a monster. I felt loose and cum was leaking, and something else I couldn't figure out. The top look at me desdainfully as he waited for me to leave. He looked impatient as I took too long to stand up and put on my clothes. I thought he was gonna shove me out the door. As he forcefully shut the door he said "Check your pockets faggot." In my pocket I found a folded piece of paper. In the note, the black top left his phone number, and a message that said, " Your pig cunt felt so good. I hope you don't mind that I put my fist up there for a while too." My only regret was a long bus ride home, because I needed to cum so bad.

Met up with a guy at last night, originally just to blow him. We met up in a lot late at night, and the first thing he told me to do was get on my knees to blow him. He was pretty physical, pushing my face into his dick and pulling on my hair, I loved it. After about 15 minutes of face fucking me he grabbed the back of my head and forced his cock as deep into my throat as possible, and flooded me with cum. I'd never been used like that and was the horniest I'd ever been. He said he was still up for more, but the bugs were getting bad so he said we should move it into his truck. I climbed up into his truck and he instantly started pressing my face into his still flaccid cock. I put it into my mouth and started blowing him again, and after a minute or two he was back to full mast. While sucking him, he slid my pants off and started to play with my ass. At first he was just grabbing and squeezing it, but he got more into it and started slapping it and trying to push into my hole with his fingers. I felt like I was out of my mind at that point, I begged him to fuck me and I didn't care if he didn't have lube or condoms. Thankfully he obliged me. He told me to turn around and stick my ass up, to which he spread my cheeks and started rimming me. I was so desperate at this point that it felt like I was gonna cum just from him getting my ass ready. After he finished that, I lied down flat on the back seat and he push his cock into me. It felt so fucking amazing, and somehow even better once he started properly fucking my ass. He was pretty modest at first, but once I was accustomed to it he started fucking me hard. It hurt a bit, but honestly that just made it better at that point. The entire time he was destroying my hole he kept calling me a faggot, and telling me what a slut I was, I was in heaven. Eventually he told me he was getting close, and I begged him to breed my hole and fill me up, to which he was more than happy to help me out. After catching his breath, he got me to go face down ass up, and jerked me off from behind. It was by far the hardest I've ever finished, I came so loud he had to tell me to quiet down.

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.

My name is Brian Tremblay and I want so badly for any man nin or near the Boston area to come and use me! Please feel free to do absolutely anything to me! I'll take anything you can dish out. My only request is that you take videos and pictures of what you do to me before, during, and after you're done! I want my name spread far and wide so people know that when they see me, they can use me as a quick toy for their pleasure and then leave me the there as they go along their way. Please help my dream come true! If you're interested message me! Number: +1(508)472-0519

I've met a 35 Yr old local bi guy 3 times now.... He breeds me very deep and hard.... First meet was 2 weeks ago... He fucked me almost non stop for 5 hrs and shot 6 loads up me and beautifully wrecked my hole... I was in heaven. ... 2nd meet 4 days after he filled me with 4 loads.... And tonight another 10 days later he again wrecked my hole for 4 hours but he dumped 6 loads up me and called me a filthy slut throughout.... He is one of the best fucks I've had over recent years...my ass smells amazing....... I adore getting fucked deep n hard.... Hopefully hell be round again in cpl days.

Although I downvoted this comment - because I've noticed it's from someone who's making a habit of trolling for attention - I will note that I've been a little disappointed in "Mayor Pete" myself of late - though I'm open to re-evaluating that opinion over time. From a wider perspective, I realize that the president has had to focus on a number of "really big picture" things in his term thus far (COVID, Ukraine/Russia, inflation, etc.), and bandwidth is limited. But in my mind, given the enormous amount of damage Hair Furor wrought in the administration of the federal government, I would have had my cabinet heads make a top priority of identifying every major change Trump's team made in the agencies, make a quick decision as to whether it should be kept or reversed, and for the latter, immediately started the process of publishing regs for comment and getting the ball rolling. For instance, in the DOT arena (Pete's bailiwick), Trump gutted some substantial safety reforms in the railroad industry that Obama had put in place. That should have been top priority for changing back. Instead, no change has yet been made, and there's some early evidence that had the braking regulation in particular been still in effect, the derailment disaster ongoing in Ohio wouldn't have happened. And again, in his defense, he's had to carry a big chunk of the infrastructure workload, but that can't come at the expense of regulations, both safety and operational. DOT has nearly 60,000 employees; surely a dozen could be spared for a team to identify problem areas and draft solutions.

They do. Gym Jordan, MTG and Cruz are LEADERS of their party, particularly now with Kevin "The Dumbest Man In Congress" McCarthy as Speaker. They want us all dead and they're not shy about saying so. They've been running on anti-gay platforms for decades. In 2004 anti-gay rhetoric helped to get Dubya re-elected President. They are completely captured by the religious right, which has only gotten worse as the decades have gone by. I've been out for 42 years this May and political winds have swung back and forth. But one thing has been constant. The Republican Party has always been anti-gay my entire life, no matter what the Quislings like Log Cabin or idiots like Richard Grennell (or worse that douche Peter Thiel) say. Never, ever forget that the first time AIDS was asked about in the White House Briefing room (when Reagan was President) EVERYONE IN THE ROOM LAUGHED. You can find the video on YouTube. They all (reporters and WH employees) thought it was hilarious that gay men were dying gruesome deaths. Some of them (Jesse Helms for example) said so outright, most just were quiet and ignored us, thinking we were all going to die. Some of us did not die. We fought back. "Quiet" republicans are like "Never Trumpers." Small in number and uninfluential. Liz Cheney? She fucking has a lesbian sister and she still voted anti-gay. She scored a 21 out of 100 from HRC in 2021. That tells you everything you need to know. THEY ARE NOT ON OUR SIDE. The Democratic Party is far from perfect, but it's what we got. And I'd rather have Joe Biden on my side than Gym "Let's just ignore men being raped by the team doctor" Jordan, Marge, Bobo or Cancun Ted.

Personally, I don’t think it should be the responsibility of the venue and/or promoter to safeguard people’s sexual health. It’s a slippery slope. If they ask whether you are on prep or not, why not also ask if you’ve had the Hepatitis B vaccine? Or now the smallpox vaccine to guard against monkeypox? I was never in favour of the COVID vaccination certificate being used as a condition of entry to certain premises: it sets a dangerous precedent. Each individual should be responsible for his/her own sexual health: if you don’t want to be exposed to HIV or STIs, then don’t attend events like Horsefair and wear a red hood.

I am a normal average looking guy, I dont look fem at all, so no, you cant tell by looking at me. I also keep my sex life separate from my normal life, so thats a good thing. That being said, part of me would like to be an obvious faggot, so that men could use me often soon as they see me. One of my favorite experiences was when I stopped at a rest area on a trip, which I try to cruise when I can. I was walking back to my vehicle, which was parks near the end of the lot, next to where the trucks park. I was about to get something out of the back of my vehicle, when a trucker walked right past me. With the most dominate attitude he grabs his crotch and says, want to suck this cock FAGGOT? I instantly blurted out, yes sir, without even thinking. He laughed and said follow me faggot. I followed him into the back of his truck and sucked his cock like my life depended on it. He humiliated and verbally abused me the entire time, soon as I swallowed down his load he pushed me off him, and said, ok faggot, get the fuck out. I donno if he just figured what the hell I will see what happens, or if he could just tell. I swear, I get the sense he just, knew. And I admit, I wish all true dom men knew I was a FAGGOT.