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  1. Not been used for some time but still proud to see it gaping and refusing to close…. Much prefer to refer to it as my Mancunt rather than hole. 🐷🍆💪🏻
    4 points
  2. In principle, that's a fine idea. In practice, the Backroom is as close to that as our fearless host @rawTOP is willing to go. Because. A lot of people out there and on here are NOT grownass adults. A lot of other people out there (and hopefully not on here, but as a matter of cold hard reality, nothing is stopping them from signing up) are actively out to get us. Obscenity laws and FOSTA/SESTA and new obscenity laws in various jurisdictions (thanks a bundle, Moms For Liberty) are a very real thing. Litigation is expensive. I'm sure I could come up with other reasons, but you get the point. @rawTOP has actually spelled all of this out in detail here (and in topics referenced therein): As for anyone being "demonized" or "abused" by the moderators - the idea that a system in which there are rules that are enforced, with a way of bookkeeping and assigning penalties that is not arbitrary (there are actually standard penalties for all of these categories) - is tantamount to abuse or demonization is childish at best. Try to think of a 6-point penalty as the BZ equivalent of a speeding ticket. Because that's what it is. That said, we really do try (admittedly harder on some days than on others) to apply them all fairly and to give people the benefit of the doubt if something is minor, or clearly an overstepping in the heat of the moment, or a newbie mistake, or any number of other mitigating factors. More than once, I have done exactly as @AlwaysOpen suggests above and reached out to an author to iron things out before simply handing out penalties.
    4 points
  3. Yep. Just lime my other story, the next chapter is started, but work ate most of my time to work on it. Hope to have both out this week.
    4 points
  4. In my case this wasn't true at all. However, if I am being honest about it, the height of the pandemic period during 2020 and early 2021 was one of my most sexually active periods, as hard as that may be to believe for many. I made the decision early on that I wasn't going to change my sexual activities. Provided of course I could find sexual partners - and I didn't have any trouble with that. I think working from home made it easier for many to hookup spontaneously. My work days were punctuated by brief breaks to take (and sometimes give) loads from guys. I will admit I found it amusing when I had 'Taking Loads Now' and my load count for that day up on my Grindr/Scruff/BBRT profile, etc, how many guy who loudly stated "No Hookups at this time" on their profile messaged me for no string sex.! All the usual sex venues were closed (officially at least, I know some of a couple of saunas in the UK that held private events during lockdowns) but pre-2020 I used to host private groups, so just did that. I have two houses, one in London and one outside the city and they are both reasonably spacious, so that was useful for holding group fucks.
    3 points
  5. For me, the sound of the chains rattling while I’m being fucked in a sling enhances the experience but then I’m into the aural experience as well… the sounds of sex as well as well as verbal.
    3 points
  6. My regular fuck boy, Drew is away for a few days - he’s being fucked by a Berlin leather daddy. I was real horny last night and I wasn’t up for jerkin off again - I needed to breed. I texted a buddy of Drew’s Ryan. He’s a cute lad and I’ve had a 3some with him and Drew in the past he and Drew have fucked regularly but he’s only ever sucked my cock. So I sent him a pic of my hard cock dripping precum and said Drew's away and I needed to fuck and seed his ass so how about it. He said yes and came over an hour later. I was already naked when he got here so I undressed him and took him to my bed. Ryan’s got a beaut firm ass so I put him on his belly and opened his legs. I buried my face in his crack and forced my tongue deep in his hole. Man he smelled great and tasted better. I ate his ass and lounged his hole - had him moaning and writhing under me. I couldn’t wait so I mounted him and slowly went balls deep up his chute. I fukkin grunted - his hole felt awesome gripping my cock. I said “you understand Ryan, I’m in you bareback and I intend to shoot my load in you” He whispered “yeah” With that I started fucking him and within 10 minutes I was pumping a big load of sperm deep in his hole. After I shot my load he came over my chest and laid on top of me.I asked him to stay the night and he did. I sucked him off in the morning - nice load. Yeah I texted Drew to tell him what I did with his buddy.
    3 points
  7. 1. Apt #5C He was drenched. Dripping. The rain let up two blocks from the address he held in his hand, but too late. He was already soaked. Shoes squished climbing the stoop. Manetti/Prior, written in faded blue ink on yellowed masking tape, ink running in splotches, evidence of at least a year exposed to weather—rain, snow, cold; now heat and steamy humidity, even now near midnight—but those words he could make out. The second, his and his brother's last name. There was a stack of buttons each with tape next to it, each with a name or names next to hard, rusty buttons. Manetti is who he wrote to the second time, the time he asked if he could come out and stay with him, with them. The first time he wrote to his brother directly, but Manetti, Mike Manetti, answered for his brother. He wrote he didn't know where his brother was. He thought he might have gone back to his mother’s house in Long Beach. Back to California. Chris pushed the button. There were only quiet sounds of a summer Tuesday night in New York. Except for a cab slowly prowling down the street, the block was abandoned, desolate. A fire hydrant left open poured into the summer street. The cab's tires slushed through the puddle and drove off into the night. The facades of the streetscape was dreary, few building’s windows lit, most were boarded up. The one next to this building had a big 'Condemned' placard on the door. A movement in a trashcan at the bottom of the stoop. A rat emerged setting the lid ajar. A couple of needles lay on top of black garbage bags inside. No, he wrote to Manetti, his brother Ben hadn't come back to California. He, Chris, Ben's younger brother, lived in Long Beach with his mother—well, had lived with her, he wasn't exactly getting along with her at the moment—well, her boyfriend actually, which is why he was trying to get a hold of his brother. The letter he sent back to Manetti was rambling. He didn't have a place to live. His mother didn't actually ask him to leave, but every morning, usually at the bathroom, Carl, his mother's new boyfriend, posed, arm on door frame, menacingly in his heavily sweat-stained underwear, pee stain in the crotch. Chris would squeezed passed him. Every day it seemed Carl took up more and more of what was left of the space in the doorway, inched his underwear's yellow bulge closer and closer to him. The day he wrote to Manetti, he felt desperate. He had felt Carl's body heat as he passed under his arm, felt a wisp of his chest hair, a brush on his shoulder from Carl's black, musky pit. He felt Carl's wetness linger on his shoulder, his residual stink. Could he crash with them? He'd pay his way. He couldn't stay at home any longer. Please, he implored in his letter. Yes, Manetti wrote back. A single word. So Manetti. The door buzzed and Chris leaned into its weight as the bolt unlocked. After receiving Manetti’s reply, Chris, a month shy of graduating high school, stopped at his house to pick up some clothes. For the last couple weeks he was crashing in the back seat of his best friend's Impala. His mechanics job at the Chevron gas station where he worked after school and on Saturdays didn't pay enough for him to afford an apartment, but he had saved enough for a one way ticket to New York. California didn't seem to want him, and living in a car’s back seat wasn't living. Carl was a growing menace that was about to boil over into...he didn't know what. And didn't want to know. The type of menace in Carl’s eyes he was unfamiliar with. Abuse, yes. His own father was brutal to him and his brother sometimes. But there was something else he felt in his gut with Carl. Maybe lower than his gut. It stirred some excitement, but he wanted to get away from it before he knew exactly what its root was. Inside, the hallway was lit by a flickering fluorescent bulb. Two dogs barked in an apartment down the hall. There should have been two bulbs in the ceiling fixture, but one was flickering its way out. The halway was dim, full of shadows. A rickety staircase filled half the narrow corridor. He climbed five floors, each landing a bit dingier than the last, heavier in graffiti as he climbed. On the top floor landing it was nearly pitch black, but a door stood open a crack and a shadow draped in a flimsy robe hovered in the door frame. "You Chris?" a deep voice asked. Chris set his gym bag down at the landing and said yeah, catching his breath. He felt his heart beating. There was a momentary fight or flight response he was trying to suppress. He hadn't expected that he'd be fearful upon arriving at his brother's apartment, but his brother wasn't here. Just Manetti. Manetti moved a little forward, enough so the apartment's light spilled over his broad shoulders, put a halo in back of his long brown hair. Chris made out teeth, a bit of a smile. Manetti extended his hand and the two shook. “Manetti. Mike Manetti.” His grip was firm but the skin soft, a little clammy. "And your Ben's little brother Chris. C’mere!" Manetti pulled him forward, gave him a warm friendly bear hug. Chris could have stayed there in that embrace forever. There was a familiar smell to him. And strength. He hadn't expected it, but he suddenly felt relief; his worry and a continent-wide anxiety melted in that embrace. Manetti released him and looked him over. "Dog shit day out there, Chief. Thunderstorm didn’t even help. Looks like it got you bad. Get in here and take your wet sneaks off." Chris saw the robe was open and that Manetti was naked underneath. He caught a quick view of Manetti' dark hairy torso, thick uncut cock, donkey balls dangling between two muscular, wooly legs. He opened the door for Chris while at the same time knotted up his robe. Chris carried in his gym bag, his few pitiful things: gym clothes, another pair of worn jeans, two old t-shirts (The Romones, Adidas), underwear (dirty), socks (smelly). Manetti closed and bolted the door. Three separate locks snapped into place. "Sorry, I was thinking about going out. Didn't know if you'd get here tonight. It's pretty late." "No, yeah. Sorry." Chris was pretty quiet generally. Didn't like to talk. Always self-conscious of saying something dumb, a leftover from an over-critical father. He looked around at the filthy kitchen—sink full of dishes, ashtray full of butts, dark grimy windows—not much different from home, actually. It was kind of reassuring in a perverse kind of way. Manetti was giving him an intense examination in the kitchen light. He felt he needed to say something to distract from his self-consciousness. "Um, I waited a long time for the bus in Newark. And then I walked to the East Village from the bus station. Lot farther than I thought. I wasn't prepared for rain. Didn’t bring an umbrella. Didn’t really think I’d need one. Dunno why. Guess I'm an idiot." His voice trailed off. Usually he never even said that much. That was [robably more than he'd said in a week. He was nervous, a little frightened, and yet glanced up several times to get a better look at Manetti. “Sorry, I’m going on like a moron. I’m tired I guess. It’s been a long day.” "I can see that," Manetti said, ruffling Chris’ wet hair. “Take your things off and hang them on the window bars. Let ‘em dry out." Manetti picked up Chris' gym bag and tossed it next to the archway to the next room. The kitchen window had retractable bars. It was set at an angle to the building, faced a brick wall and shadowy darkness beyond. Chris looked up and gave Manetti a quick smile, then concentrated on kicking off his shoes. He peeled off his socks and shirt, hanging them through the diagonal bars. A light from across the airshaft flashed. The flash blinded him for a second, and maybe it was a residual image imprinted on his retina, but he thought he saw an outline of a figure lurking in the gloom across the airshaft. "Pants," said Manetti, snapping his fingers. It almost felt like an order, but Chris didn't seem to mind. He was, though, a little embarrassed especially because Manetti was so big compared to him. He looked like some of the dockworkers he'd seen in the port of Long Beach. Big and burly, a little intimidating. He felt the man's eyes running over his thin frame. He felt small, miniature even, in this tiny kitchen. His pant legs dripped on the linoleum but Manetti didn't seem to care. He sat down at the dinette table in his threadbare underwear, setting his back to the window, putting his folded hands in his lap. "Is the bag all you brought?" Manetti nodded to his gym bag. "Yeah, not much, right? I'm not used to packing. Never really gone anywhere. I didn't have no time. Just picked up what was on my floor." Chris noticed the robe had fallen open again revealing one of Manetti's dark, hairy thighs. He quickly looked around the kitchen. "Bathtub?" he said surprised that there was a bathtub in the kitchen. It sat right smack in the middle of the kitchen, dividing the room essentially in two. Didn’t know how he could have missed it when he first walked in. A metal top that doubled as a counter lay on top of it. "Yeah, it’s pretty common in these old walk-ups. Hey, you want some soup or something? I have some left over. Just need to heat it up." Chris nodded eagerly. He hadn't realized just how starving he was. He had a cheese sandwich on the plane but that was hours ago. Manetti was nice, he thought. His furtive glance took in his deep set brown eyes and thick black brows over a smooth forehead. Long brown hair and sideburns. It was weird his brother never spoke about his roommate. "How do you know Ben?" he asked. Manetti went to the fridge and took out a pot and started warming it up on the stove. "Met at a bath house last winter. Took pretty quickly to each other. He fucked me, then I flipped him. We did that all night. Didn’t hook up with anyone else. That night anyway. Then I moved in here with him a week later." Manetti gave him a once over to gauge his reaction as he stirred the soup. Then he added, "You don't really look like brothers." Chris was surprised by how frank Manetti was about being gay, especially that part about the bath house. We wished he could be that bold. "We're step brothers. My dad adopted him when he was sixteen, but that didn’t work out," Chris said. Chris stopped himself from saying more. He listened to the spoon stirring in the pot. It was pretty common for people to say, that they didn’t look alike. He had thin blond hair, almost white, parted on the side, was skinny and on the short side. He liked wearing his hair shoulder-length, whereas his brother had almost a lion’s mane of thick dirty blond hair he always wore in a ponytail. It was one of the first things he could recall, Ben's ponytail. Ben was tall, athletic, broad chested, ten years his senior. They both had their mother’s wide face and striking blue eyes, but that’s where the similarity ended. Ben ruled any room he was in. People flocked to him. He was magnetic. Chris was a loner, shy. Not the brightest bulb, said he dad endlessly. But he was resourceful, could figure stuff out. He was a pretty decent mechanic without ever having any real training besides a semester in shop class. It was the one 'A' he ever got. His mother tried to shield him from his father, but she had her own demons and wasn’t always there for him. So he retreated. To his room, or the back of his friend's Impala, and now to a red Formica kitchen table sitting in his wet underwear with his hands folded in his lap. He looked at the refrigerator across from him. A magnet held up by a photo of Manetti and Ben, arms around each other’s shoulders, standing in knee-length bathing suits on a balcony that looked out at the sea. Chris wondered where they were? Manetti looked a few years younger, had shorter hair and wore a huge goofy smile. He looked a little stoned. Ben's deep tan set off his blue eyes; they almost glowed. He looked happier than he ever did growing up. It must have been breezy because his long ponytail flew like a kite behind him. Chris stared at it while his soup heated up. He idolized his brother. Worshiped him really. Many times after his father had given him a bad spanking, he’d sneak into Ben’s room, into his bed, and silently fall asleep on his chest refusing to shed a tear. He did cry, though, wept inconsolably really, when Ben said he couldn’t stand their house anymore and shouted he was moving to New York. Manetti tested the soup with a loud slurp. His mother demanded to know why New York. He'd met someone in a bar, Ben said, who'd offered him a job. What kind of job do you get offered in a bar? shouted his step father, but Ben was storming out the door raising a middle finger. “When’s the last time you saw him?" Manetti asked. "He’s changed some, you know,” he said. "He's not that Long Beach surfer you used to know." In the photo Chris saw Ben had added a bunch of tattoos. A big dragon crawled over his right shoulder, it's tail re-emerging over his ribs. He saw his brother wasn't that slim teenage surfer he once was either. He was a lot more bulked up, even handsomer if that was possible. "Ben moved out right when he turned eighteen. Hated my dad. Can't blame him. My dad was pretty much of a dickhead. He was okay to me except for my whoopings. He tackled him one time, tried beating the shit out of him, and Ben wailed on his so hard my mom called the police." Chris caught himself as Manetti eyed him. He didn't like to talk about his family’s problems—not to the school counselor, and never to strangers. He rarely did talk about them, didn't even really like to think about them especially. Manetti filled a soup bowl, grabbed a spoon from a drawer, and set it in front of him. "Yeah, I've seen him loose it. He's pretty awesome. You want a towel? You're still dripping," he said. Chris nodded and dug into the soup. Manetti popped out and then returned with a large terrycloth towel. The soup was full of large chunks of vegetables and warmed his stomach. He took the towel and mopped his head, then draped it over his shoulders. For the first time in as long as he could remember—weeks? months?—he was beginning to relax. He wasn't used to someone being nice to him. Especially someone he didn't know that well. After his dad left, his mom had turned into a basket case. And now, any day with Carl in the house was like walking through a minefield; made his dad seem like Gandhi. He must have been scowling into his soup because when he looked up, Manette said, "You Prior boys are so serious, aren't you?" Manetti flashed him a warm smile, which he shyly returned, then went back to shoveling spoonfuls of soup. "In your letter you said you haven't seen my brother in two weeks,” Chris said between bites, keeping his eyes in the soup bowl. “Ain't like him to just disappear. He’d split for a time but would always come back. Know where he’s at?" Manetti sat across from him, reached in the ashtray and took out a half-burnt joint. He lit it and took a long drag and looked up at the ceiling. He exhaled, thought for a moment before offering it to Chris. Chris put down his soup, pinched the joint, and took a short toke. He exhaled, said thanks, handed it back and went back to his soup. "Well,” said Manetti thoughtfully. “Chris Prior..." He paused, taking a long hit, taking an even longer time to reflect before exhaling. "...Ben Prior, or Big Ben, as he's called, disappears from time to time. So do I. I didn’t want to get into it in the letter, but truth is, sometimes, a client will want us for an extended period of time." Manetti took another hit. As he exhaled, he leaned in toward Chris. "Sometimes drugs are involved, so you know, we’re sometimes really out of it. Sometimes someone buys one of us for a time. Comes with the territory. We come back to each other. Eventually. But we’ve learned our partnership needs to be very open." Chris' spoon stopped in mid-air at some point while Manetti was talking. He looked him over. Long dark wavy hair, highlights of red in the harsh kitchen light, long side burns who's points hit his high cheek bones, a wide mouth with lips like seagulls wings, brown eyes that suddenly glinted with mischief. His robe had fallen open again revealing swirling black hair over pale white skin across an expansive chest. Chris' brain twitched. Something was off. He knew stoned, and he wasn't getting stoned. Manetti scratched his chest but his fingers lingered in his mat of chest hair. Chris saw him open his robe a bit more to brush his left nipple on his massive pec; he diddled with a thin metal bar that pierced his large tit. Chris placed the spoon in the bowl, took up the proffered joint, took a hit as casually as he could. With a clenched throat, hoping it sounded like he was being offhand, he asked, "So you're his boyfriend. You’re both hustlers?" He was confused, but not by the news that his brother turned tricks, but that Manetti’s nipple, so unusually large, looked so very appealing. He'd never seen a pierced nipple up close in real life. So much was flooding his senses at once it was hard for him to keep up with his thoughts. "Boy, this is strong shit," he said, handing back the joint. "Laced?" "Just a bit." Manetti's grin widened displaying a beautiful row of perfectly white teeth. Why hadn't Chris noticed just how good looking Manetti was before? He had looked at him through a filter as one of his brother’s friends. But whatever the joint was laced with was magnifying Manetti's magnetism. If Manetti was a hustler he must be a very good one, thought Chris. Manetti’ smile, as it grew, highlighted his strong jaw, became the smile of a shark. Chris was easily bait. "This soup is really good," he said, trying to snap out of his gaze. He finished up the last of it. "Uh, can I use your bathroom?" "Other side of the bedroom. Ready for some more soup?" Chris stood up, placing a hand on the back of the chair. For some reason he didn’t feel hungry anymore. “Nah, I’m good.” He glanced out the airshaft and again a slight paranoia gripped him as he looked into the inky darkness. In the apartment across from them something was moving. He was wobbly, but more than stoned, he was suddenly horny. He also saw he was starting to get a woody, one that was pretty evident wearing only thin underwear. Manetti noticed it too. Chris excused himself before it became even more obvious. Suddenly, he was confused by the apartment layout. Off the kitchen was the only other room, a bedroom. Off it, a small closet, and a smaller closet with a toilet and a dinky sink. In the bedroom a sling hung over a futon on the floor. He knew what it was even though it was the first sling he'd ever encountered. He'd seen them in Ben's magazines, the ones he left behind between his mattress. Rawhide, Stroke, Bound and Gagged, and Chris' favorite, Magnum. He saw the leg straps, the leather pillow, the wrist restraints, the mirror perched over the top. He felt himself woozy, and grabbed a leg strap to steady himself. Not the best choice, for it immediately flew away from him and with his other hand he had to grab the metal support. The whole sling set into motion a round of clanging as chains banged against metal posts. "You okay in there?" Manetti's voice called out from the kitchen. He peered around the kitchen door to see if the kid was still standing. "Yeah, I'm good," Chris answered stumbling to the bathroom. "I bet you are," Manetti responded with a laugh. "Ben said you were a choir boy. That really true?" "Really true." He shut the bathroom door, relieved that he had found a room, compact as it was, where he could compose himself. As soon as he shut the door, he struggled to get his act together. He mulled over the fact that there were only two rooms in the entire apartment—kitchen, bedroom. Where was he going to sleep? And, fuck, he couldn’t deny how horny he was for Manetti. He saw how the evening was leading in one direction, and he saw he couldn’t and didn’t want it to go any other way. Manetti would be gentle, he reassured himself. That first embrace in the hallway surely proved he would understand that, being his first time, his brother’s lover would be gentle, would let him take things at his own pace. But he was his brother's lover. But he was also a hustler. His brain was frazzled. Sitting down with his underwear around his ankles he looked up at the back of the bathroom door. Taped to it was a foldout from Magnum magazine. It was Ben and Manetti sixty-nining each other with their forearms up each other's ass. Cocks dripping, Crisco smearing, Ben and Manetti were frozen in a frenzy of fists. Chris popped a rock hard boner and dropped the biggest shit of his entire life. *** Manetti unhooked the leg straps from the end of the sling, folded it in half, then re-attached the straps to the arm hooks. That left the futon on the floor unencumbered from above. He popped in one of Drax's bareback twink videos in the VCR, grabbed the remote and laid back on the futon propping his head with an oversize pillow against the radiator. It was late but the Tina laced joint had him in a semi-energized mood. He was sure Chris must have felt similarly. The toilet flushed and Chris emerged. The boy, still clad only in his white underwear, shirtless, flawless, a thin little scarecrow, stood at the bathroom door. Blond hair, dry now but flying every which way. A perfect skinny beach boy, ten years Ben's baby brother. Their resemblance was minimal. Whereas he and Ben worked out regularly, having pecs, necks, and 'ceps to prove it, Chris, looking around the small studio confused, seemed frail. He was more than a little intimidated by all the pornography he was discovering on the walls, porn stars Manetti and Ben had either known or worked with over the years. Mostly signed. "To Manetti / Good times, bad times, baddest times! Rich" or "Big Ben / Your name does not lie, Eric." "Come. Sit," encouraged Manetti patting the space next to him. "How you feel? Like the joint?" "Yeah, man," said Chris, trying to sound cool. "That's powerful dope. It's dusted?" "Nah, a little Tina. You like?" Chris gave a single nod with a flicker in his eye that Manetti zeroed in on. He casually took a sip of water he’d brought from the kitchen. "Want to try it pure?" Chris sat next to him cross legged. "I guess so," he said. Manetti could smell him. A little grungy, a slight smell of urine probably from the wet, dirty underwear. Ben had told Manetti he thought his little brother was on-again and off-again homeless, at least not staying at his house much cuz of the mom's new boyfriend. Manetti grabbed a pipe from the window ledge, set his glass aside, and stuffed the pipe with a little white powder from a baggy. He handed the pipe to Chris. "Have you blown clouds before?" Manetti knew the answer before he asked it. Chris shook his head. Up close Chris was even more striking than across the table. It was his eyes, soulful lost puppy eyes. When you first looked at him he looked just like any skinny white kid, but sitting crossed legged next to him, you could really see how lost he was. His six pack abs wasn’t from working out but from not eating enough, his ribcage pronounced as he breathed. Hairless chest, tiny nipples, little or maybe no armpit hair. The kid didn't even look like he shaved yet. Whereas he was all hair. From his heavy five o'clock shadow that was dark even right after a morning shave, strong jaw with a cleft chin, his father’s rugged aquiline nose, shaggy, unkempt cluster of chestnut hair, and trade-famous pointed sideburns. "Just inhale it like you would hash and hold it." Chris did as he was told. The kid was nothing if not a fast learner. And obedient. The idea of introducing him to Drax crossed his mind. He brushed the thought away. The kid was much too cherry. Drax would eat him alive. Still, what was he going to do with him after tonight? He was definitely going to get in the way of his trade. As Chris was about to blow the smoke out, Manetti took the boy’s mouth and covered it with his own. He breathed in the smoke from Chris' lungs, held it for a beat before exhaling. "No need to waste it. You take it from me this time." Manetti lit the bottom of the pipe, waited for the white cloud to form, then sucked it in. Out of the corner of his eye he could tell Chris was grappling with how Manetti had grabbed his chin and brought their lips together. Chris watched him, biting his lip with anticipation, moving closer to Manetti’s mouth. It was almost like kissing, something he'd never done with man. Manetti motioned with his finger and Chris moved in. Manetti exhaled into him, breathed a new kind of life into him. As he held it, Manetti leaned back against the pillow. "So, what's your plan, Chief?" Chris followed suit and leaned back into the large pillow he shared with Manetti. After he'd exhaled, Manetti took a long sip of water. He offered the glass to Chris. "Don't really have one. Thanks." Chris took a sip and handed the glass back to Manetti. "Not a really good plan, Chief—not to have a plan. Ben thought you were queer. He right?" Manetti was fixed on the TV, watching a blond dude about Chris' age but not as skinny getting sucked by a balding, stocky daddy type. "I used to beat off to Ben's porn. So I guess, yeah. Twice, when I stayed over at my best friend Jeff's place, before his parents didn’t want me coming around anymore, we jacked off to some straight shit.” Chris looked around again at all the porn posters and photos hanging on the walls. “I think I recognize that guy in that poster there from one of them," he said pointing to a huge 'roided porn star with an extra-long dick, one with perfect hyper-masculine features perched on the hood a Rolls Royce. It was signed "To Manetti, thanks for the ride, TJ. "Mr. No Balls? Hah! Tyler says he's straight, only does gay for pay. Don't believe him. You can shit in his mouth and he'd pay you for it." Chris barked out a surprised laugh. “No, seriously he loves twinks. I bet if I call him right now, he’d come over and ask you shit in his mouth.” Manetti made a motion like he was going to get up and call, but Chris, laughing, held him back. Chris’ hand on Manetti’ shoulder, feeling it's mass, registered quickly on both of them. Chris quickly put his hands back in his lap. Manetti added a little more white power to the pipe. "’Nother hit, Chief?" Chris nodded. His heart was already pounding and he felt flush all over. He was also pulling on his pud unconsciously, getting a little wet spot on the tip, staining his already stained underwear. Manetti took note, seeing the kid was totally unaware of what he was doing. He calmly fired up the pipe and slowly leaned into Chris. He blew into his lungs lightly adding just the tip of his tongue, and deliberately scraping the boy’s face lightly with his cheek. Chris's eyes widened. He'd never felt a beard against his face like that. "So that's it. A couple wanks with Jeff, you on one end of the couch, your best bud on the other, eyes glued straight to the TV. Aware of him but never dared to looking. Am I right or am I right?" "Yeah, something like that.” Chris’ mind spun. His next words flew out of him as if he was compelled to confess to Manetti. “Except one time this real nerd, Kyle—I never told nobody this—he helped me with some math homework. His parents both worked so we were alone at his house. Everyone knew he was a fairy. Ran like a girl. We were in his bedroom. He put his hand on my pants, which usually kind of hangs cuz I don’t hitch ‘em up, and he pulled them right off me and gives me a blow job. Like, I didn’t even stop him even though he was sucking my dick. I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” But it felt good being open with Manetti. He felt a mild release and a kind of excitement in the act. "Did you give Kyle a blow job back?" Chris scoffed at the thought. Then after a beat, added, “Actually, I thought about it. Sometimes late at night, jacking off under the covers, I remembered how much I liked it. How soft his mouth was. How it felt to cum into it, into this big wet thing. Like how I didn't have to hold back at all. Like how maybe I’d like to give Jeff a blow job. Give him the same feeling. Like he wouldn’t have to hold back and just come in my mouth and I’d swallow it. Okay, shut up. Stop talking now,” he said, talking to himself in a voice that could have been his father's. Manetti laughed, but made a quick U-turn and became serious. "Well, what wasn't nice, Chief, is that you should always reciprocate. Know what I mean? I mean if I gave you a blow job, I'd expect you'd give me one back. That’s only fair, right? And if I rimmed your ass, I expect you'd return the favor." "What’s rimming?" asked Chris. Manetti looked at him sideways, saw he was honestly confused. This kid was too innocent to be believed! “You must have seen it in one of Ben’s magazines.” Chris shook his head. Manetti found the remote control and sped the video up. "There. See what that kid’s doing?" Manetti pointed at the screen where the blond kid was under the older daddy’s hairy ass. "He’s eat out man's pussy." "The fuck out!" said Chris but didn't take his eyes from the screen. Manetti saw the kid's boner tenting up in his shorts. "That's fucking nasty, man. Gross! Why would someone do that?" Yet the boy’s eyes couldn’t be pried from the screen with a crowbar. He was pulling again at his underwear. "It's like getting a blow job but a hundred times better.” He motioned to Chris’ hardon. "Looks as if you like the nasty." Chris stopped pulling at his dick alarmed. “Wait. I’ll fast forward. You're gonna love this." The VHS tape sped up, then skidded to a stop. The boy was now under a rim seat with the daddy sitting on top. A close-up showed the boy lifting his head, licking the daddy’s balls then sticking his tongue deep into the daddy’s hairy ass. "I bet you’d be good under there." Chris felt his whole skin glisten in a light sweat. His nerves felt electric. Manetti flicked off the room lamp. The room basked in the dark glow of the TV. Chris felt an imaginary blanket was enveloping him and Manetti, separating them from the world. With the light off, he had an urgent need to take off his underwear and bare himself to Manetti. Manetti sensed it and reached out and slipped off Chris' underwear. The kid had a nice seven inch rod, rigid and beaded with pre-cum. Very little pubic hair. Looked like he clipped it, too. His legs were hairless, thin and smooth. Such smooth pale skin got him excited and he casually opened his robe revealing his long, uncut cock angling above his firm, hairy belly. Chris looked at him achingly. He took the boy's hand and placed it on his manmeat. Chris caressed it lightly at first, the first time he'd ever touched a man’s penis. Manetti felt him quickly go from a light touch to a firm grip. He pumped a little in the boy's hand. The hand barely wrapped around his shaft. But what he did hold was like being in the grip of a cobra. His other hand aimed for Manetti’s chest. His finger ran through his chest hair making a bee-line for his pierced nipple. When he make contact Manetti could wait no longer. He pounced, gripping Chris’ legs and spinning him around, pulling his legs into the air to expose his butthole. He dove down to engulf his sphincter and the kid let out a moan of pure pleasure, his neck arched looking up to his face. "Oh, fuck, dude," Chris cried. "Oh, shit that feels good. Jesus. Christ! Oh shit." It coaxed Manetti to pull the boy's pursed asslips apart even more and deep dived his tongue into this virgin hole. “Push out,” ordered Manetti. "More!" The boy hadn't wiped well and there was an acrid taste of shit around the kid's stained hole. It horned Manetti even more, driving his tongue deeper into this nasty, puckering pit. “Push fucker!” Every nerve ending in Chris' bunghole bristled in pleasure as he pushed out his hole. Manetti's long tongue dug into the hole, which fought instinctively against entry. Manetti’s mouth was relentless, chewing, licking, sucking on the boy's ass lips. Chris tried fighting against the tongue from entering, but bit by bit he felt the pleasures of giving up his hole, physically and mentally, to push out and let this man he’d met only a few hours before enter him in his most vulnerable spot. Manetti beard scratched his tender skin, but it felt incredible, loosened him more and more. He heard the man spit, his hole dripping wet, and felt a finger entering him. This was the first time he'd ever been penetrated, and though it was uncomfortable and hurt, at the same time it excited him. He felt conflicted, fooling around with his brother's boyfriend, afraid of where this might lead. But he knew where he wanted it to lead. Manetti held his legs firmly, looked down into his open face. Chris was afraid and yet attracted at the same time. Manetti was all hair, chest, shoulders, a black jungle around his cock, even a bit of hair on his back that he felt with his legs. Manetti held his legs over his shoulders to dig into that smooth, tasty boyhole. From that vulnerable position, Manetti sucked in a testicle, then the other, which made the kid cry out in pleasure and surprise. He then returned to that beautiful virginal, pliable, slowly opening tunnel. The sensation of having his hole eaten was driving him wild. Hoarsely, he spat out, "Mike, I want to return the favor." Manetti looked down into the boy's face, became curious, wondering if the kid would do it or would cop out at the last minute. He released him and the kid scurried through Manetti’s legs, putting himself beneath the man's furry butt like he'd seen the twink do on TV. Manetti squatted over his face as he felt the boy’s lips surrounding his crack. The kid pulled on Manetti's legs to get him to squat lower. "Oh, fuck yeah. You're as big of a pig as your brother. Eat my shithole, boy. Dig in, get lost in it.” Manetti ground his ass over the boy’s face. “Rank, right? Be a little toilet pig. You felt what I did, how deep I got. Return that favor. Be a sewer. Be a cell pool. Just give in to it. Get lost in there." And Chris did. His cock remained an iron pole, Manetti noted, while his tongue didn’t stop for a moment cleaning his dirty shithole. Chris had never felt as uninhibited as this. Manetti’s whole butt was one massive trench of black hair. The crack seemed to go on forever. He licked and licked, searching to find the center. Manetti’s musky odor drove his brain into delirium. He was a boy on a mission and would not give up until he made Manetti’s hole feel as good as Manetti had made his. Minutes went by till he arrived, finding the smooth oasis of flesh through the dark brush. It pulsed with heat on his tongue, and gave off the pure scent of a man. He couldn't believe how wonderfully soft the skin felt across his tongue nor the nasty taste that reeked from his hole. Instead of being repulsed by the stench, he was in a frenzy to please Manetti but he also found he really liked it. He did what Manetti had done and lapped and circled the hole, until he found he could dart his tongue inside, which produced an animal snarl from Manetti. "Rrrrrr, fuck yes, piglet. Get in there you little fuck pig." Then something happened Chris didn't quite understand, but knew in his gut he liked right away. The hole he was chewing on opened up slightly and a vast area of Manetti's rectum pushed out with it. His mouth was confronted with his first rosebud, although at the time he didn't know what it was. Right after this mound of gelatinous flesh revealed itself to him, like some startled sea creature, it pulled back into its hole. Manetti went wild. Chris felt his legs being pulled in the air again, separated, a tongue slithered into his entrance. An infinite amount of pleasure, giving and receiving, before there was a brief pause, then a heavy hand cracked against his butt. "Say, Thank you, Sir." "Thank you, Sir," repeated Chris, his ass stinging, feeling a sense of shame and pleasure and pride all at the same time. "You taste so fucking good, I want to eat you up, pig boy," growled Manetti. "Let's get you in the sling. I have to bang this pretty pussy." They sprang up and he quickly showed Chris how to connect the legs chains back to the hooks. Chris rubbed his butt and felt the heat from the slap Manetti had given him. "Climb in, boy, and I'll give you the ride of your life." As Chris was figuring out how to get in, Manetti said, "You liked blowing clouds?" Chris nodded. "Then you're going to love this." He quickly poured some powder in a shot glass, mixed a little water in it and sucked it up in a plunger. "Okay, settle in. Put your legs through here.” Manetti paused, then ran a hand up and down Chris' torso, ending by fondling his cock and balls. “You happy you met me?” Chris nodded. "And you've never been fucked before?" Chris shook his head fiercely, anticipating what was to come. “Comfy?" Chris nodded again eagerly, starting to slowly hump Manetti's paw. "Not so fast, boy. I want you to learn to feel it not just in your dick but also inside your hole.” Manetti pulled Chris' dick away from his body to the boy cried, then let it slap against his belly. “You gonna do whatever Sir says, yes slave?" Manetti squeezed a little lube on Chris' hole. He wet a finger in his mouth and pushed it up Chris' ass a good inch or two. It was uncomfortable for a second while Manetti twisted his finger lubing all side of Chris’ tight cave, but Manetti kept wiggling it around and Chris not only got used to the sensation, but found himself writhing a bit on Manetti finger, trying to get him to penetrate him further. "Okay, this'll be a little cold and might sting, but just for a minute." Manetti replaced his finger with the plunger, stuck it up Chris's canal as far as it would go, and then shot the liquid into the boy's empty hole. Shit yes, it was cold and stung like a bitch. Chris bore down as Manetti finished injecting his ass with the cold liquid, then pulled the plunger out of him. At first he felt nothing but coldness warming up inside him. He felt a bit let down anticipating something intense. Manetti looked him over, stroked his erect dick and tweak his small nipples. “Feel anything?” Chris shook his head. Manetti went over to the VHS recorder and switched tapes. While it was revving up, Manetti put on a leather cap and vest over his otherwise naked body. Chris was truly impressed, if not a little intimidated, by the severe transformation a few bits of costume made to Manetti. It also altered Manetti's attitude. Manetti looked straight out of one of his brother’s leather magazines. It brought out a sense of privilege and arrogance even. Manetti went to the bookshelf and opened a box and pulled out an orange capped rig. He strapped his arm with a tourniquet, feeling for a vein against the dim TV light. He slammed himself and started breathing heavily. His mouth shaped into an round 'O' and his eyes widened in sudden astonishment. Something was happening in Chriss too, something like a serpant eminating from his hole. He felt a strong surge of desire. "You look so fucking great, Sir. Like a god." Chris could not see Manetti’s eyes, only dark pockets where his eyes should be. Chris couldn’t help himself and started pleasuring the feeling his ass. Words flew out of him. "Or like the devil," he whispered like at confession. Something heating up inside his hole made him feel intensely desirous of Manetti. Wanting him like he never wanted anything before. Manetti cough. "FUCK!" Manetti shouted widening his eyes. "Christ fuck!" He could barely stand, and leaned heavily on the bookcase. "Hot damn, boy. How you feeling?” He was breathless, trying to put the orange cap back on the rig. “You feel it yet?" Manetti looked to him out of focus, but a feeling of euphoria was sweeping through Chris' body, making himself pull on his cock at the same time he fingered his butthole. He felt electric, energized, wanted Manetti to touch him all over, maybe even smack him again. "I feel great, Sir,” he said. As Manetti staggered from the bookcase and came closer, he sat up in the sling and ran his hands across Manetti’s hairy chest. "I wanted to do that the second I came in the door, Sir. Fuck, you are so hot. My ass is yours. Whatever you want to do to it. Beat me if you want to." "Beat my ass—SIR!" returned Manetti, now holding on to the chains while he was rushing, where Chris' butt lay exposed, so desirous of being fucked for the very first time. "Yes, SIR, beat my ass again—SIR." And Manetti did, harder than the first time. "Thank you, SIR," replied Chris, falling back against the leather pillow, pushing his ass out of the sling. A light turned on in the room across the airshaft. Chris didn't notice, but Manetti did. "You're welcome, boy. Let's get you settled in." With that Manetti quickly locked his leg restraints, still breathing heavily, punctuating fucks under his breath as he worked. Before Chris knew it, Manetti had restrained his arms above his head. He gladly went along with whatever Manetti wanted to do. As long as it didn't involve needles. That was the only thing that freaked him a little but he tried not to think about it. If it wasn't for the feeling of horniness overcoming every molecule in his body he might have been spooked by the restraints. But now he was accepting everything that this hairy demon breathing over him was doing. It was easy to inhale Manetti’s pheromones, which blotted out the picture of him hunched over, shooting up. Or maybe he secretly liked that. He didn’t know what he thought anymore. He arched his head toward Manetti’s cock. It was veiny, half sheathed in foreskin. Leaking pre-cum. He licked it. A taste of salt and cheese. Nothing had ever tasted so delicious and desirable to him. He still had a trace of Manetti’s dirty ass on his lips and it mixed with salt and cheese from his foreskin. Manetti turned on a light over the sling and flipped on a video camera propped next to the bookcase. Manetti slowly turned the boy’s peach fuzz face to the side, checked that the view finder was in close, recording each translucent strand of blond hair on the boy's upper lip, and slid his veiny cock into the boy's mouth. He swallowed have his fat nob. Manetti was impressed at how much Chris could take. He pushed him further, getting half his shaft into the boy's mouth, feeling where the boy’s throat constricted, made him choked on his shaft, then skullfucked him at that length for a while as his cock grew from semi-flaccid to fully engorged. Manetti withdrew his cock from his mouth, and a web of pre-cum hung like a spider web between them. He let his uncut cock trace over Chris’ pursed mouth. "Ah Chris," he said looking into his eyes. "I'm going to fucking love knocking you up." Chris felt the words echo in his head, puzzled at first by their meaning. On the TV screen a body was being pummeled by a Master with a whip, with a boy writhing in pain and ecstatically twisting under the lash. He looked back at Manetti. Beyond the harsh light shining on him, in the dim light of the room, he saw covered by the beautiful black fur surrounding Manetti's navel, the three prongs of a biohazard tattoo. Manetti placed a red ball in his mouth and tied it behind his head. Chris realized too late what the ball was for, and started fighting against his bindings. Manetti pushed in between his legs. The kid tried to close his legs but the sling and Manetti easily pried him open. He was exposed and vulnerable. Manetti greased his cock and lubed the boy's tight hole. With his first thrust his aim was true. He slid the entire length of the kid's clutching rectum, straight up to his thick black patch of pubic hairs. The girth of his shaft ripped the boy's hole apart. Manetti's hairy balls smacked into the boy's tailbone. He didn't stop till he was right up the boy's chute, fully inside. The boy cried in anguish behind the red ball, tears in his eyes, panic running across his face. Fiercely he was beathing, spitting saliva through the ball in heaving gulps of air. Spit ran down his chin and cheek. He fought as much as he could against the thickness of Manetti’s enormous shaft, against his cuffed arms and legs, but the struggle only engorged Manetti’s immense tool more. "Fight against it, bitch. I love it." Manetti picked up his pace. The pain was unbearable but he was helpless to stop it, and with every stroke he felt his resistance falling away. The longer it went on, and against his will, he started deriving a small bit of pleasure from the pain. Chris slowly began to unclench against Manetti’s girth. For a while, at the pinnacle of each thrust, Manetti would hold his crotch against Chris' hole, letting the boy experience the magnitude of the amount of raw flesh that filled his hole. Chris felt all the hairs of Manetti's pubis surround his hole. Manetti gyrated inside him. He felt the stiff cock push his insides around, moving everything inside, his bladder, his prostate, a gateway to an inner chamber. The sensations started owning him. Making him feel things he didn't know he could feel, sensations that were newly possible. Manetti felt Chris’ hole beginning to open. He looked into the bound boy’s blue eyes and saw a dawning pleasure deep within him. He wasn’t sure the boy even knew he was beginning to draw pleasure from his pain, but he would know and eventually desire it in ever increasing amounts. He new his journey and he would have the boy follow in his tracks. Tears were being overcome with lust as the chemicals were taking over Chris' body. The boy stopped struggling and for a moment became placid. He grew annoyed with the passivity so with both hands, as hard as he could, he smacked with all his force Chris' ass. It made Chris yelp and clench his sphincter which pleased Manetti. He looked down on the boy and was surprised to see a spark of gratitude in Chris' eyes. Just a spark. He needed to work him harder. They fell into a rhythm. For minutes that turned to hours Chris got used to the battering his hole was taking. When he went slack, Manetti slapped him to tighten him up, or twisted his small nipples until he tried to cry out in pain behind the gag. At the beginning, Chris fought the massive rod slamming into him and the occasional whipping his ass endured. But after non-stop fucking, accepting the alternating pleasure and pain, he came to desire the torpedo that was tearing him inside. The familiar walloping he received growing up, he secretly desired from Manetti. In the mirror he watched and felt his butt turn from pink, to red, to purple. At some point he got lost in it, started thrusting himself to get impaled deeper, to be slapped hard, to be punished for sins he couldn’t name. Manetti felt Chris' entire canal loosening. The ass smacking was now built into their fucking. Chris, in fact, in a haze, began thanking him behind the red ball. Whether or not Manetti heard him was questionable, for Manetti's eyes rolled back in his head and he mindlessly fucked and abused what at times became an anonymous body splayed beneath him. Manetti occasionally snapped out of his daze and saw how much he was controlling this innocent young kid, this younger version of his partner, his boyfriend, his lover—imagined he was fucking an innocent version of Ben, one from long ago—then he would lose himself again to the sheer, dark pleasure he derived from his raw cock having its way in a stranger's body. He felt himself edging closer to a climax as his mind vacillated between thoughts of Ben and this new fresh piece of nameless meat. As he felt he was close to cumming, he broke through to awareness of Chris beneath him. He saw Chris' sweat dick never lost its erection no matter what he did to him. He started playing with the boy's meat, milking him, lightly slapping his face so that he came out of his drugged revelry. "I'm about to cum, Chris,” he said as the boy focused on his mouth and words, “but I’m not going to cum in you unless you cum first, got that? That shows you want me to give you my poz cum. Shows me you want to be my fuckhole no matter what. Lets me own you." Through blurred eyes Chris lobbed his head no, but almost immediately started squirming his cock in Manetti clenched fist. "I can't tell if you're trying to get away from me, fuckhole, or you're jacking yourself in my hand. I think you're jacking, you little cum pig." He broke into a dark smile. "Feel how hard you are?" Chris kept bucking, thrashing, squirming away in a sea of ecstasy and lust, both wanting this man to cum and fearing it with all his fiber, but he couldn't hold back, jacking into his fist and slamming back onto his cock, a see-saw that wouldn't end until he pushed himself over the edge. He let loose the longest stream of cum he'd ever shot. Ribbons of sperm spewed over the room. The boy’s hole clenched and spasmed as he shot, immediately triggered Manetti who gushed in rivers of ropey sperm up the boy's open chute. They both quaked in orgasms, each building on the other’s spuming bodies, until they were thrashing uncontrollably against each other, grinding bone against bone, skin against raw skin, till there was a thrust of Manetti that hung in the air, then one more, then a final lunge plunging Manetti deep inside Chris. He held it there, on the edge, feeling himself unload an afterbirth of cum. Manetti stood dripping heavy sweat onto Chris' glistening chest. He rubbed Chris' cum all over his chest and face. He sucked the boy's small nipples, licked up and down the boy's arms, licked his pits, still hard and draining inside him. “You still with me?” he whispered, as he loosened the ball in Chris’ mouth. “That was fucking fantastic.” The boy’s eyes, drugged as they were, did not lie. Manetti kissed him deep, then lay on top of him feeling his heart beating against his. He rested there for a moment feeling the slickness between them, the kid’s sperm matting his chest and abs and pubes. He licked up a river of the boy’s cum welled in his sternum, and was surprised to see Chris open his mouth for him. The boy had the makings of a true pig, he thought, as he released the drool into the greedy boy's maw. He watched the lust still simmering within the boy as he swallowed. Maybe he was Drax material after all. ***
    2 points
  8. MIGHT BE fiction! We were playing in a dark maze at the top level of the sauna, with a mixture of tops and bottoms and a sling. A patron that I was bending and sucking his dick, starts trembling and apologies and asked to be excused, he was walking unsteadily and slow away from me and I led him to a small private room within the dark maze to settle down. he laid down, and I could have a better look at him, he is a 40+ year old average looking bear and was shaking/shivering uncontrollably and running a temperature. “It got worse” he lamented. An awkward silence and he got weaker and laid on the bed. I spread his legs, lubing his hole, (I’m vers), and finger him, his insides are clean, and I lube my cock and start to missionary him looking into his eyes, hoping that I’m fucking a newly Pozzed ass. i start to engage in poztalk with him, and he reciprocated positively (pun intended)- appears that he also suspect that he is going through early stage of his fuck flu 🙂 it makes my dick harder and I seldom top, but this is making me very horny, although I’m shooting blanks into him. i didn’t last long on his newly Pozzed, feverish arse, and I blew my load into him. About to leave when I saw his rock hard dick pointing at me, but I’ve came and would have lesser inhibition to be a bottom. Hence, I start wanking him off, with more poztalk and telling him sweet nothings. I stroke his chest and play with his nipples and sense his body tensing up, I quickly went down on him to take his very fresh and new poz load. i made my leave from the room, I start drinking a little and slowly enjoying my well earn poz cum. Then I passed by the dark maze with the sling, I recognise the same unwanted bottom hogging the sling with actions happening beside him (this sling lizard doesn’t gets the hint doesn’t him?) I went up to the unwanted bottom and slowly spit out the poz cum to lube his bottom, and he was so excited and I am careful to spit out bit by bit , to minimise wastage. Eventually I gave him all my hard earn poz cum into his well lube arse, and I kiss his forehead and say “nah, I’ve came already, and am helping you get lubed up for other tops” I winked at him and left the sauna.
    2 points
  9. I’ve done A2M for years and thoroughly enjoy it but the fact is I know my cleanliness status. I’ve had total spur of the moment sessions where I was “unprepared” and it was obvious right away which ended the “moment” for me and I stopped it even tho my bf laughed it off as a”it happens” moment.
    2 points
  10. I ended up in hospital from rimming! Got HIV2 and 1 badly. It hasn’t stopped me rimming though.
    2 points
  11. For those interested in health info about oral/anal. 🙂 "Rimming carries a risk of passing on or contracting sexually transmitted infections (STIs). According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC)Trusted Source, there is a risk of the following STIs from oral sex: chlamydia gonorrhea syphilis herpes HPV HIV trichomoniasis There is also a risk of contracting bacterial infections or parasites, such as E.coli or giardia, from contact with the anus. People can transmit a type of bacteria called Shigella through oral-anal sexual contact, causing a gastrointestinal infection called shigellosis. Hepatitis B and C are infections that people can pass on through bodily fluids. A person may be at risk of one of these infections if they have any cuts or sores that come into contact with the bodily fluids of a person who has one. There is also a risk of contracting hepatitis A from oral contact with the anus. To reduce the risk of passing on a bacterial infection, people will need to avoid rimming if they have any symptoms of a stomach bug, such as diarrhea, constipation, or vomiting. They should also wait until any cuts or sores around the anus or mouth heal before giving or receiving rimming." [think before following links] https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/rimming#who-does-it
    2 points
  12. LINCOLN PARK FUCK It was a rare day with no fog, and temperatures in the high 70’s, a perfect day to work on my tan, and maybe get laid. My favorite place to go is Lincoln Park, a small park that has a very secluded clearing that only gay men seem to know about. On a warm sunny day, you see only the briefest attire: small, tight Speedos, tiny thongs, and more than a few men tanning completely naked, even though that isn’t legal. Before I left the house, I was feeling full of confidence, having shot a good strong booty bump deep in my ass, followed by a butt plug to be sure that the booty bump stayed put and got completely absorbed. Next, I hit the glass pipe maybe half a dozen times. Lastly, I pulled on my favorite silicone cock ring. Wearing it always makes my ball sack swell to at least triple its normal size. Besides, it feels great ! After packing everything into a size small Speedo, I grabbed my beach bag which I always kept ready to go, containing sun screen, a couple bottles of water, poppers, a glass pipe, a lighter, lube, and a large beach towel. When I got to the park, I hiked up the short distance to the clearing. At 11:00 there were already 7 or 8 men there in various stages of undress, including one couple that had stripped down completely. After spreading out my beach towel, I pulled off my shorts and tee shirt. As the latest guy to arrive, all the other guys were checking me out. I laid down on my beach towel then rummaged around in my beach bag until I found my lighter and my glass pipe. From previous experience, I knew that there were always a lot of men smoking weed. The booty bump I had administered before I left the house gave me the courage to hit the glass pipe right out there in the open. After 6 or 8 good hits on the glass pipe, I pulled off my small, tight Speedo. The butt plug I was wearing was a clear sign that I was definitely a bottom. By now, I was feeling pretty well spun, and I couldn’t keep my hands off my limp Tina dick, then alternating between stroking my dick and playing with the butt plug, fucking it in and out of my hungry hole. Gradually, more and more men showed up and staked out acceptable places with a good view of all the other men. Soon, an older middle age man entered the clearing. He was wearing a tank top and shorts. I couldn’t help but notice that he was staring at the butt plug I had jammed in my ass. He spread out his beach towel maybe 4 feet from me, and I watched him undress. I didn’t care that he knew I was watching him. It’s all a game, anyway. When he dropped his shorts, it was obvious that he was sporting a very impressive bulge in his Speedo. I knew that it was very common for gay men to “pack” their Speedos to make it look like they were a lot bigger than they actually were. But that wasn’t the case with this guy. Although he was wearing a chrome cock ring to keep him semi hard and showing a good sized bulge, the rest was all him, flopping around as he tugged his Speedo down. All the while, I let him see me working my butt plug in and out of my ass. From the looks of his dick growing longer and thicker, I could see that he was definitely interested. For a while, continued playing with my butt plug, then I pulled it all the way out and threw it into my beach bag. I took a couple hits of poppers, then offered them to him. While he was huffing the poppers, I spread my cheeks with both hands, again and again, showing off my slightly gaping hole. Now I was face down, and he got on top of me. I loved the feeling of his weight on top of me, and I especially liked feeling his big cock head tickling my butt hole. Both of us were moaning, it felt so hot. Suddenly, he pulled back, spread my cheeks, and buried his face in my ass, and tongue fucked my hole. That was driving me wild, and I was practically begging to have his big donkey dick inside of me. I didn’t have to wait long. He fucked his cock up and down my crack a few times before his rock hard cock found my hole. I gasped as he shoved hard and forced his way into me, balls deep. He hit the poppers then handed them to me. I took continuous hits as he pounded my ass. Feeling his huge cock stretching my hole felt incredible. I was glad I was spun as fuck, so that I could take it. When he was ready to unload, he locked his hands around my throat and he slowly pulled his cock back then rammed it into me, again and again. When he was completely spent, he let go of my throat and rolled off of me, letting me gasp for air. I happened to glance around the clearing and saw that almost every guy there had his camera phone up and had been recording video of the entire scene.
    2 points
  13. Totally agree with badjujuboy it’s part of the intensity and experience 🐷
    2 points
  14. You can bet your bottom dollar that Ryan texted Drew about it too.
    2 points
  15. My favorite is attaching the leg straps to the forward chains - i.e. those suspending the bottom's "head" area, furthest from me. I use heavy duty clips, which can be attached to any of the 4 chains, and at any link. This provides the most visually-appealing access to the Hole, and accentuates it's accessibility. If it proves uncomfortable for the bottom, it can be easily adjusted, including lowering the clips adjacent to the bottom's head if necessary. Of course, the body-type (i.e. tall, short) needs to be taken into consideration, so as not to cause discomfort. For me, the more the Hole is presented in the most vulgar and visually appealing way - legs spread as wide and over the bottom's chest as is comfortable - the better.
    2 points
  16. Just now. Guy of Sniffies hit me up saying he has a load for me, so who am I to say no? Claimed to be Chubby, 8", 220, black ... more like fat, 280 6" (but stll black). Oh well, I was face down, ass up like a good cum dump should be when he came in, but he moved me around until I was ass up on the couch.. Where he proceeded to really fuck me. He pounded me for a while then he made me beg for his cum, so I did and was promptly rewarded with his load in my ass. I sent him a text on Sniffies to say thank you, and he said he needed some more of 'that ass' so I told him it was where he left it. About 15 minutes later he texts 'OMW, Be on the couch'. OK... so I wait around and when he drives up I assume my position on the couch... He starts fucking and pumps in load #2. Takes a 5 minute break, then pumps in load #3 I can feel the cum running out of me... Takes another 5 minute break and starts fucking me when my phone rings... he told me to answer it while he was fucking my ass... luckily it was a cold call so no idea who was who on either side... then he gives me load #4. He asks for a glass of water, then sets up his phone for a facetime chat, and as soon as the other end answers he mounts up and starts a conversation about what a cum dump I am and how much he enjoys fucking my fat white ass, and then hos friend is telling him to fuck me harder and give me another load... so them I got load #5. Honestly, nothing like this has ever happened to me, so I am happy that I was able to give him that much enjoyment, all the while getting my ass plowed, which felt sooo good. He took a shower then headed out after which I sat no the couch and marveled in the fuck I just received while the cum oozed out of my well used pussy.
    2 points
  17. Chapter 5: Turning Points On Wednesday afternoon, Laszlo walked into the Hawaiian Nine office suite just as Jim and Steve were sauntering out of Daniel’s private office into the reception area. “He’s free, Laszlo, just go on in.” Jim sounded like a man on a mission. But Steve put out a hand and stopped Jim from leaving, then spoke. “Hey, Laszlo, I’d like to keep in touch. Let’s swap numbers.” Jim raised his eyebrows. “What, suddenly I’m not good enough for you any more?” he asked mockingly – then chuckled. Steve, though, replied in an unusually serious tone. “Jim, I think it would be a good idea for us to keep in contact with Laszlo.” The numbers duly exchanged, the two of them hugged and kissed the younger man, and then went on their way. And Laszlo went in. Outside the building, Jim said, “Well?” in a curious tone of voice. “Well, what?” “You know what, Steve. Why did you want Laszlo’s number?” “Just a sixth sense. I get the feeling that Daniel is about to do something big and make some sort of major change in his life. If he does, I just have a feeling that he might let Laszlo know what he’s up to. I’m sure it’s not love, but there’s some sort of special comfort zone there for him. I want to know where to locate Laszlo if we need to ask about Daniel.” Jim nodded. “That’s good thinking. I didn’t pick up anything particular about them myself, but I sure as hell trust your judgement.” Steve laughed. “You’re just saying that because I thought it was safe to confide in you with my feelings. So I did -- and look where it got us!” The two of them laughed and kissed. On entering Daniel’s office, the first thing Laszlo noticed was a facial expression that he’d never seen on the boss before. Daniel was staring off into space, almost as if he was off on another planet or something. His elbows were propped on the desk, forearms pointing up, fingers linked together, and his chin was resting on his linked fingers. Who knew where the rest of him had gone to? Laszlo gently cleared his throat. “Ahem, Daniel.” Daniel shook out of it. “Hi, Laszlo. Is the door closed?” Laszlo nodded. “Have a seat.” He got up and poured a pair of scotches out of a decanter, handing one to Laszlo, and then sat down again. “So, what’s this about Daniel?” “A couple of things, Laszlo. First of all, and most important, I need you to promise me absolute secrecy about everything I’m going to tell you. These are things no one else knows yet – not Jim and Steve, not Lianne, no one.” “Promise.” “Right. Here it is, then. I’m planning to retire and sell the business.” Laszlo stared at him in shock. Finally, words returned to him. “Are you mad?” Daniel chuckled. “Hardly that. But I’m also damned if I’m going to be like Mark the Meatman” – and here he referred by nickname to a once-popular but now over-the-hill porn star and producer – “and keep going until I’m so old that I can only attract viewers by appearing in cradle-robber scenes. I want to go out when I’m on top of my game and on top of the business.” Laszlo studied him carefully. Perhaps he was young, but he was also uncommonly perceptive and sensed that there was more. “Is that all?” “No. I’m also getting bored with the whole routine. Running around raising money, sucking up to ageing queens with deep pockets, screening applicants for scenes, holding the loads in, swearing off for days at a time just to get a good money shot. I’m fed up.” “So what’s your timeline for that.” “That’s the second part of what I want to tell you. I’m going to finish off the film we just shot, then film one more – and call it quits after that one gets released. I wanted to tell you now because I’m going to bill you as the star in that final film, let you pick where you’d like to film and work with whoever you want to work with.” “For reals?” Daniel nodded, smiling at Laszlo’s obvious eagerness to get going. “Wow, I’d love to do another scene with Steve – I mean Rod.” “Sorry, Laszlo, that’s the one that’s off the list. He’s told me twice now that he’s retired again and this time it’s for good.” Laszlo’s face dropped. “Hey, don’t look like that. You got a chance to work with him and breed him, and have him breed you, and that’s something only the two of us have ever done on video.” “How could I forget? My ass was still sore when we got to the orgy scene.” “I thought you were acting a bit – ‘restrained’ – that day.” They both laughed. Both men were familiar with the aftermath of a ramming from Rod Rammer. But then Daniel went on. “Anyway, like I said, that’s only a planning-stage item for now. But give it some thought and get a preliminary list ready.” “So, Daniel, what’s going to happen when you sell out?” “I’m going to include a condition of sale that the buyer has to keep our videos in circulation for a minimum period of 5 years, under the Hawaiian Nine name. And there’s going to be another condition. Just let me find the envelope. I already gave Steve his package.” Daniel sorted through a pile of stuff on the desk, fished up and envelope, and handed it to Laszlo. “Go ahead, open it.” Laszlo ripped off the end and pulled out a payment notice. “Three hundred forty-seven dollars and fifty-four cents. What’s this for?” “Your royalties. Our last film was such a huge success that I decided to give everyone a royalty on sales and streaming rights. Two cents per streaming, ten cents per full sale. That’s your first payment, based on all the income so far. You should see it land in your bank account today. We’re going to use the same system for the last two films. And the buyer of the company has to keep up the royalty payments as long as they keep the films in circulation.” Laszlo got up, walked around the desk, and gave Daniel a huge hug and a kiss. “Thank you, Daniel. Not just for this, but for launching my career, and for giving me the lead position in your final film production. You’re the best!” Daniel smiled as he patted his enthusiastic young star on the back. But then he returned to business. “And remember, all of this is confidential. Everyone is getting an email with the royalty notice today, and the payments are being deposited, but that’s all that anyone except you knows.” Laszlo gripped his hand firmly and looked him squarely in the eye. “I promise.” And after a few more final words, he went his way. Out on the street, Laszlo fingered the payment notice in his pocket. The whole thing – the royalty payment, the offer of a starring role, the news that Daniel was going to slide out the door – it had all become surreal to him. The one thing Laszlo realized, loud and clear, was that in a year or less he was going to have to say goodbye to Daniel – and might well never see him again. Now, there was a depressing thought. Daniel had been a good mentor, and Laszlo had felt instinctively that special comfort zone with Daniel which he hadn’t felt with too many other guys – certainly not with his ex. What Laszlo hadn’t clued into at all was the significance of the statement that nobody but him knew about Daniel’s plans for the future. Laszlo wandered along the street, the vibrant life of WeHo flowing all around him, but he wasn’t really noticing it, immersed as he was in his thoughts. Then a voice spoke to him -- and he snapped out of his preoccupation. “You’re Arpad Nagy, aren’t you?” The speaker was a tall, lean guy, wearing a tight tee shirt and very short shorts. Well worth a second look in any company, Laszlo thought. Then he took that second look. “Adam!” “Yes, it’s me all right.” “So why didn’t you call me by my real name?” In a slightly sarcastic accent, Adam replied, “I thought you might have gotten a name change when you went in for the enhancement surgery.” They both laughed and Adam went on. “You didn’t waste any time snagging a new guy for yourself after we split.” “What new guy?” “Give me a break, Laszlo. Word on the street all over town is that you and the Hawaiian Nine are shacked up together.” “Twenty-four years old and you still believe everything you hear from that no-name myth, the Word on the Street. In this case, the Word is dead wrong.” “Okayyy.” But Adam sounded doubtful. “But tell me one thing. How did he get you to open up and give him your ass? I tried for the best part of three years, and you were all ‘No – strictly top only.’ And my hole still aches, just from remembering.” “To answer your question, he told me that he hoped I’d be willing to switch up on camera, and I thought about it and decided to go for it. I warned him that I was still a bottom virgin, and he took an afternoon to break me in gently before filming time.” “Damn. I’d love to have you demonstrate your new talent for me.” Adam reached down and “adjusted” the basket of his shorts. “Want to come – up?” “Well, you’re sure not wasting any time, are you? But fair warning – I’m strictly verse now.” Five minutes later, they were naked in Adam’s apartment. Adam had has arms wrapped around Laszlo and was busy kissing him with plenty of tongue while his hands kneaded Laszlo’s firm round ass cheeks. Laszlo had his hand fastened on Adam’s cock and was squeezing it, feeling the growing wetness in the palm of his hand. He remembered how he’d used to wonder what it would feel like having Adam inside his ass, but he’d been too scared to try. Now that he’d experienced multiple fuckings from the Hawaiian Nine and the redoubtable Rod Rammer, among others, he wondered why this long but much more slender tool could ever have scared him. Dropping to his knees, Laszlo went to work on Adam’s cock, sucking it deep into his throat and then pulling back and working on it with lips and tongue before deep throating it again. Adam gasped and moaned with pleasure and surprise. He plainly hadn’t expected Laszlo’s technique to have become so much more advanced in the two years since they’d split. And Laszlo went right on surprising him, coming up for some advanced tongue work on Adam’s nipples, then licking all the way down his ridged abs and back to the cock, which he proceeded to swallow. Laszlo had learned a special torsion trick from Eddie during a private session, working his head around in a circle while sucking as he rocked it from side to side. Adam was groaning nonstop, never having experienced such a virtuoso professional blowjob and starting to be scared that he was going to lose his load before he finally got to experience Laszlo’s asscunt. Finally Adam grabbed him and pulled him up for some more kissing, then spun him around and pushed him face down across the bed. Laszlo bent his hips just enough to make his ass lift into the air at a perky, enticing angle. Adam quickly took the hint and pushed his face into the crack, kissing and licking at the sides and at the hole as Laszlo moaned and twisted around on the bed from the sensations. Adam had come a long way from the days when he’d begged, in vain, for a shot at Laszlo’s ass. He’d fucked a number of bottoms since then, all of whom liked the way his long thin dick could tickle their prostates without shredding the ring while slamming in and out of their holes. As his tongue dug into the target, worming its way ever deeper inside, Laszlo yelped aloud, caught by surprise at the realization that his ex-boyfriend had become a real specialist in the fine art of rimming. Laszlo also realized that he was probably in for a memorable fucking to follow. He wasn’t wrong. When Adam finally felt the hole open up and beg for it, he swiftly got into position, spat in his hand and rubbed it on his painfully rigid cock, and pressed the head against Laszlo’s hole – which readily gave way and invited him in. Laszlo let out a drawn out “Ohhhh… fuuuuck…” as Adam’s long shaft slowly pushed all the way into him in a single continuous slide. A moment later, Adam was lying down full length along Laszlo’s back, slowly rocking his hips to make his cock stir around like a mixing spoon inside the newly-opened ass. With his head next to Laszlo’s ear, Adam quietly purred, “You like that?” “Ohhh… yeah… feels so… ohhh… you’re rubbing me so good….” Adam moved his hands away from Laszlo’s shoulders to press down on the bed on either side, and then reared up into a push-up position and began pumping his cock slowly, but with full-length strokes, in and out of Laszlo’s supine body. “Ohhh… fuck, yeah… give it to me harder!” Adam obligingly speeded up, gradually working up to full-throttle pounding into the now-totally-opened ass underneath him. His hips were smacking out a rapid tattoo of slaps against Laszlo’s firm round ass cheeks as his cock pounded faster and faster into the hole. Laszlo was giving out a steady stream of “oh, yeah” and “fuck” as Adam worked him over. It was more than anyone could keep up with for long. Going nonstop at this furious pace was bringing Adam closer and closer to the moment of truth, and as his breathing got faster and more ragged, Laszlo sensed it. “Come on, Adam, fucking pound me!” “Gonna… gonna cum!” “Yes! Let it fly – fill me up. I want that load. Cum in my ass!” Suddenly Adam groaned aloud, slammed all the way in, and held it there as his cock convulsed, blowing a thick stream of juices into Laszlo’s cunt. After the first three bursts, he repeatedly punched his cock in to force the further shots as far inside as possible. “Fuck!” Adam cried as his cock continued firing bolts of cum. At last, his orgasm trailed off and his cock gave its final twitches inside Laszlo, the last few drops of his load slowly dribbling out. Finally, he withdrew, slowly, and watched in awe as Laszlo’s hole hung open, with Adam’s seed slowly sliding out and dripping down his taint to land on the bed underneath him. Adam wiped his cockhead on Laszlo’s cheeks and continued to gaze on his handiwork. At last, Laszlo slowly rolled over onto his back, bringing his still-erect cock into view. Laszlo had what Adam thought idly was an almost demonic grin. There was also an unmistakable smirk to be heard in his voice when he spoke. “Damn good – for the first act.” “The first act?” Adam sounded puzzled. But before he could ask any questions, Laszlo reared up off the bed, grabbed Adam and flung him down onto his back on the covers, and seized his legs, pulling them up in the air to expose his ass. Laszlo promptly dived down and began to rim Adam at full speed, working his tongue all over and around the hole and along the sides of his crack while Adam gasped in surprise and then began moaning as the sensations hit him. He moaned even louder as a finger worked its way inside his hole and began to rotate. “Oh, fuck, Laszlo, keep doing that!” “You’re tight.” “Haven’t been fucked for months. But I want it!” “Coming right up.” Laszlo pulled away, drooled some spit onto his cock, spat into Adam’s crack, and worked it in, then planted his cock at the opening and began to lean. “You want it?” “Yes!” “Beg for it.” “Please! Quit teasing me, Laszlo, I want that dick inside me. Give it to me now! Please!” Laszlo pushed harder, popped through the ring, and then slowly slid the rest of the way in. Adam rested his muscular legs on Laszlo’s shoulders, and Laszlo pushed farther forward until Adam was bent double, and Laszlo was lying right down on top of him, face to face. This was his favourite position for fucking. He loved watching all the expressions on a bottom’s face as he plowed in and out. Now, as he began working Adam over, he could see that old familiar blissed-out look which meant that Adam was enjoying himself. Laszlo was too. He had forgotten just how well Adam’s hole could caress and squeeze him as he slid back and forth. But he knew he wouldn’t last long. He’d already gotten far too wound up from being fucked by Adam for the first time, and he could already feel his load climbing up the shaft and moving into firing position. “Fuck! Can’t hold off… gonna cum….” “Yeah! Give it to me. I want to feel your sperm inside me! Knock me up, Laszlo! Breed me!” Laszlo was moving faster and faster, his hips turning into a blur as he slammed down repeatedly onto Adam’s powerful thighs doubled up under him. His cock was racing in and out, faster and faster, and then all at once the moment was there. “Ohhh… fuuuck…!” He jammed his hips down, shoving his cock all the way inside Adam’s tight butt, and let the jizz fly, his muscles pumping shot after shot of cream deep into Adam’s hole, which kept right on working on his cock, squeezing and releasing, as his own orgasm peaked, and he shot all over his own pecs and abs. Then they lay there, still joined together, kissing and stroking, as their cocks slowly deflated and Laszlo at last slipped out of Adam’s ass. After they’d laid there together for a few minutes, Laszlo got up out of bed and began to dress, while Adam watched him with an expression made up of equal parts quizzical, ironic, and disappointed. “Just Mr. Fuck and Run now?” Laszlo turned and fixed Adam with a serious gaze that stopped him dead in his tracks. He’d never seen Laszlo looking so determined, and so sad at the same time. “Adam, I spent over two years with you, and I can tell exactly where your mind is going. You’re obviously hoping that we’re going to get back together.” Adam said nothing. There was no point. Laszlo really did have his number. “That’s not in the cards. I’m not the same guy I was when we were together, not at all. Experience has changed me – and I don’t just mean the experience of fucking on video for money.” “Well, what do you mean?” “I’ve gotten to see real love in action. And if you don’t know yet who I mean, the Word on the Street is sure to get the bulletin soon enough. It’s going to be the shortest two careers in porn history. Two scenes each in one film, and I’d say it’s a 99% certainty that they’re both going to call it a day at that point. Not quite as certain, but I’d still give 70% odds that there’s going to be a wedding there before too long.” “Hmm, not you and the Hawaiian Nine, then.” “That’s right. As I told you before, we are not an item. Anyway, he’s so screwed up inside that I don’t think he’d know love if it jumped up in his face and slapped him upside the head. But after seeing – well, just call them A and Z for now – together, I can begin to sense what the real thing looks and feels like. It helped, too, when I read this quote on my socials: ‘If you have to ask yourself if you are in love, the answer is always no.’” “I get it. You were asking yourself when we were together.” “Yes. I was. Sorry, Adam, but that’s the reality. We had two good years in spite of ourselves, but we can’t go back. It was fun playing together again, but it has to end here.” With that, Laszlo – now fully dressed – walked over to the bed, kissed Adam goodbye, and went. Moments later, out in the street, he found he was crying. He knew exactly why. He’d been completely truthful with Adam, but the truth had to have hurt the guy, and hurting other people hurt Laszlo – badly. He was the kind of person who was all man, but he had a strong motherly streak in him that made him want to kiss everyone on their sore spots and make them all better. But Laszlo needed someone to kiss him and make him better too. And here he hadn’t told Adam the whole truth, only part of it. The truth, as he finally admitted to himself, was that he was in love with Daniel and didn’t know what to do about it.
    2 points
  18. Chris leaked when Manetti squeezed his dick. His still hard purple head was covered in spooge and Manetti wanted to torture the kid for a bit, polishing his nob, just cuz he could. The palm of his hand went back and forth as Chris squirmed in pleasure and pain under his control. “Stop! Nooo,” he laughed howling and thrashing. The wall phone in the kitchen immediately began to ring and light flood into their darkened room from across the airshaft. The light brought Manetti more in focus to Chris, breaking their intimacy slightly. As his mind settled back from his raging high, what they had just done started to frighten him a little. Manetti’s slimy cock slid out of Chris' ass like a fat slug. There was an audible 'plop' like a cork as it popped out of the grip of his sphincter, and he felt a small amount of liquid dribbled out his crack, down his tail bone and slide under his back. Manetti went into the kitchen and picked up the receiver and silently listened. "Thanks," he finally said. "Yes, he definitely has a hot pussy, Master," said Manetti into the receiver. The long phone cord allowed him to come back into the room talking. "We were that loud, huh?" He gave Chris an 'oops' look. "Well, I'm glad it enticed you, Sir." Manetti paused, then was quiet for quite a while, considering the proposal from the person on the other end of the line. He grew serious looking at Chris while the voice on the other end continued speaking. There was a pause on the other end, seeming to wait for Manetti to reply. Then the voice added a few words, which brought a smile to Manetti’s lips. "Well, we were probably going to bed, but I think our boy could be convinced otherwise. What do you say, Chief?" Manetti asked the bound boy covering the mouthpiece. "Up for a drop-by to my Master’s? Could be worth your while," he said rubbing his fingers together and wiggling his dark brows. "Even might be the beginning of a long term plan. A little for you, a cut for me, and the rest for Master. Maybe the plan you were looking for, Chief." Manetti’s teeth glowed in the light from across the airshaft. Chris gave him an I-don’t-know look in return. Frankly, he'd do what Manetti wanted him to do as long as Manetti was there. Back to the phone, he said, "Sure, the kid's psyched to meet you. We’ll come over right away." He paused. "Yes, Sir, I know what you like. I'll get him prepped just like that. Right, give us a little time then." Another pause, then a finger went up Chris’ hole. “Yep, he’s still wet but his hole is tightening.” Manetti sucked his finger smiling at Chris. “Sure, I have some G. Will do.” He went back into the kitchen and hung up. "Boy, to get through this night, I think we need to up your game." Manetti came back into the room and stopped by the bookcase and picked up the box with the orange tipped needles. He came over to Chris, who suddenly became alarmed, shook his head emphatically side to side. Manetti saw the kid stressing and put his hand on his face to reassure him. “Nah, Chief, nothing like that,” he said lifting out a little vial of liquid, putting a reassuring hand on Chris’ beating heart. “Only a couple of drops of G right now to prep you.” He took an eyedropper and counted out some drops in his water glass, swirled it around, and put the class up to Chris’ mouth. “What is it?” “Something that’ll take the edge of the booty bump I gave you. Makes you relax. Kind of like a warm bathtub. Nasty tasting though,” he broke into an evil grin. “But you like nasty, right?” Chris took a sip and made a face. “Yeah, I know. Here, I’ll take some too so we’ll be on the same planet, okay?” Manetti drank and made the same face as Chris. He got Chris to drink a little more. “Drink me, Alice,” Manetti said in a tiny voice. “You’ll need it to get through the door.” Chris gave him a blank look. “Never mind. Here, take this too. It’s a muscle relaxer. I think you’ll need it.” He put a white pill on Chris' tongue, and let him wash it down with a last sip from the glass. “Why do I need a muscle relaxer? Is he going to fuck me, Mike?” “Most definitely, he’s going to fuck you, buddy, and he’s a lot bigger than me, and I ain’t no small zucchini, am I?” “Oh shit.” Chris' head fell backward. “Yeah, but on the bright side look how hard you are. I gotta warn you though, if you come with me, Master Drax does believes in everyone slamming and doesn’t take no for an answer. So rule number one: never say no. He has lots of ways to make you say yes and they aren't any fun, believe me. Second rule: don't say 'I can't.' To him that translates to 'I won't.'" Chris looked trouble. Manetti went on, "Your Catholic so you'll get this: Saying no means he can always change your mind, so to him that's a venial sin. But refusing him outright, saying you won't? That's a mortal sin. And you don't want to do that. Ever. Got it?” “I think I wanna stay here, if that’s alright.” “You're scared of needles cuz of your ma, huh?” asked Manetti, with a note of compassion. “Your brother told me she was tasting even before Carl came sniffing around. He said last time he checked in with you guys, she was living with Carl, but she was married to her H.” “Can you untie me?” Chris asked. Manetti removed his cuffs and Chris slid out of the sling and sat on the futon crossed legged. He started looking around the room then looked at his boner. “Man, is this ever going down?” He tried to make a joke of it, but Manetti saw the G was making only a mild dent in his mood. He was playing again with himself, pinching his nipples, which seemed to be something new to him, was a tactic, thought Manetti, to try and take his mind off his family and this, Manetti saw, wasn't working. The Prior Puss was taking over the evening. Manetti knew he had to distract the kid for a while for the G to take full effect. “Hey, how’d you like me to shave you?" Chris perked up and looked at him curiously. "I shave Ben all the time and he loves it. It’ll really calm you down. It goes well with G too. Wanna try?" His caterpillar eyebrows wiggled. "I love shaving your brother.” “What do I do?” “Nothing but lie there. Just look pretty." Manetti went toward the bathroom. "Like you could ever not look pretty.” The words did their job and Chris laid down smiling. Manetti went in and made preparations. Chris lay there blushing and grinning to himself. He could see why Ben liked this guy. “But I like my bush,” he called out to Manetti in mock protest. He felt his small bush. Not much of one he had to admit. “You clip it, baby. Think it makes you look bigger, right? Ya’know you got nothing to be ashamed of.” He came back in with a bowl of water, shaving cream, and a straight razor. "I know you'll enjoy this." He sat next to Chris, and set out his wares. "Listen: Master Drax has special tastes. We're start with the simplest. He likes his new boys shaved. Everywhere." Manetti wrang out a wash cloth over the pan and soak the little bit of blond pubes Chris had. "You like keeping it short. But maybe you don't want them at all. Prefer to stay a boy." He sprayed foam in his hand and covered Chris' pubes. For pleasure or torture, he also coated his shaft and balls, massaging it in until Chris was squirming again in his hand. A few well-placed strokes of the razor and Chris' pubes were gone. He spent special time kneading his balls, flattening them out, squeezing them hard. Part pain and eventually part pleasure for Chris. "Lay your arms back." His pits were easy to shave. While on the second pit, Manetti said, "Man, how long since you showered, boy?" "A month, I guess." Chris was starting to float in his body. He succumbed the water and the warmth of the rag. With Manetti taking care of him, they were bonding closer. It was a feeling he didn't want to stop. "A month?" he asked incredulously. "Last gym class I took, I guess. After that I stopped going to school." "Well, no wonder you smell like a hobo." He gave a small laugh as he scraped the last of Chris' arm pit hair. "Master's probably gonna like your smell. Once I finish your butt, I should probably douse you with a finishing touch." Chris opened his eyes to see Manetti pretending to take a wiz on him. Chris mouthed silently, fuck, yeah, agreeing to whatever came into Manetti's dirty mind. "Up, Chief. Back in the sling." Chris got up slowly, then slunk back in the sling and put his legs in the stirrups. Manetti moved down below Chris' butt hole, pulled up a stool and started soaping his crack. To Chris, the feeling was sensuous; to Manetti it was salacious. He played with the boy's hole for a while, prying it apart with two fingers up and down, and then side to side. He spat in it and pulled some of his own cum out to use as lube. He stuck a finger deep inside, rubbing his prostate and generally feeling out the kid's hole. Chris head lolled to the side enjoying the sensations, looking up to the mirror occasionally catching Manetti brown head studying his anal anatomy. Soon, with a few deft strokes, his cheeks were soft and smooth. His purple hand prints were fading to pink. "Okay, hardest part. You're nicely stretched but I want you to remain totally relaxed." He took the straight razor and made micro-scrapes against the boy sphincter. Each stroke made the boy clench. He stopped for a moment, stood up, and smacked his ass hard. "I'm serious now, boy. Stop flinching or I'm going to slice you. I'm a lot more careful than Master would be, so you want me doing this, not him." Chris bit his lip. He liked when Manetti ordered him around, but he was apprehensive if he could keep his hole perfectly relaxed. "I'll try." "Rule three: there is no try, only do. Think Yoda. Seriously, I'm going to put this inside you," he said holding up the straight razor. "I'll be twisting it a full three-sixty. If Master finds even one hair in there I can guarantee you your ass is going to be a bloody mess when he's done. Trust me, I know. Picture my hole for a minute. Yours is a piece of cake." Chris felt the warm washcloth wipe the remainder of soap away. He then felt Manetti's tongue circle his hole, licking the edges then spiraling deep inside. It felt fantastic. His hole relaxed even more the deeper Manetti's tongue went. Then he felt the cool razor slide ever so gently and slowly into his hole. He concentrated on how relaxed he was under Manetti's spell, how much he liked him, put all his trust in him. Thought only of that. He felt the razor slowly twisted around his open hole. Six, then seven nicks of stray hairs he felt intensely as if they were being ripped out of him. Still he remained open. "Good boy. I'm coming out." The blade fell out slowly. It almost tickled. At the last moment of contact, however, he couldn't hold back a last minute flinch. The blade pricked him only slightly, but enough to draw a small trickle of blood. It stung and his sphincter went into delayed spasms, pushing some residual cum out his hole. Manetti lapped at it without without scolding him. His tongue was soothing though Chris knew blood, saliva and Manetti's cum was mixing in his wound. But the lapping tongue was hypnotic. Minutes went by silently. His sphincter stopped clenching and he lightly dozed off feeling Manetti tongue going on for eternity. Not caring what happened next. Remembering only Manetti's tongue lulling him to sleep. He would fall asleep every night like this if he was Manetti's. *** But he wasn't Manetti's. First one hand was pulled up and buckled in place. Then the other. Still he was content and floating like a baby in a swing. "Good boy. Now for your reward." From far away he heard the words and responded like he was still asleep. "What?" His words felt unnaturally slow coming out of him. "Wait." He realized his arms were again bound. "Wait. What...?" Through droopy eyes he saw Manetti take out a prepared point. "Just a small one, Chief. It'll put you in the right frame of mind to meet Master. He's expecting it." Manetti tied a rubber tourniquet around Chris' small bicep and began tapping the crook of his arm. It was pretty easy to find a vein on the skinny boy. He found a juicy one and told the kid to hold still or he might hurt him. Chris stopped squirming and watched with fascinated horror as the needle found it target. "Stick. Tell me if this burns." A swirl of red flooded into the vile and slowly Manetti unloaded the liquid into Chris' vein. The boy felt nothing immediately as Manetti withdrew the needle and pressed his thumb on the point of entry. His other hand unleashed the tourniquet, just as the boy coughed. Chris panicked. Manetti stood above him, his face easing into that large shark smile he'd had before. "That's it, my red blooded American boy." He watched the kid flush beet red, going through alternating phases. Panic turned to ecstasy, turned back to panic. "Just ride it. That's it. Enjoy it." "Too intense." Manetti leaned over Chris' face. He knew what would help the kid. He pushed his pec out to hover over his face, unleashing one of the boy's arms. Chris put his hand on Manetti's chest, felt the muscle flexing just for him. He caressed the hair, found the pierced nipple. Manetti bent even lower to the boy. Chris started sucking away, nursing like an infant, both metal and flesh. Chris looked up at Manetti and met the shark smile with one of his own. A smile shaded with a bit of evil he'd never let out before. He struggled to get up forgetting his other hand was still bound. Manetti helped him get it off. Chris buried his face in the man's chest, inhaling him, licking him. Put his face under Manetti’s armpit. Manetti took pleasure in letting him lick the pit, then helped him get up. Chris slid off the sling and began pacing around the bedroom murmuring fuck repeatedly. "How's that feel? You like?" Chris couldn't form any words but held up his thumb. "Go ahead and lay down. Enjoy the rush. Just ride it through." As he sat he fell back, feeling like he was falling down a rabbit hole, that the ceiling was rising above him, his vision was crossed and he felt the rush of euphoria jet through him. He was giddy, flush with excitement, he only wished Manetti's cock was back inside him. "Fuck," he grabbed onto the only words that made sense, confessing, "I feel like a little boy with you. I want you to molest me." He felt around his smooth, wet hole and stuck a couple of fingers inside. Manetti laugh. "You feel it don't you. Feel all those carnal urges you've buried. You want to suck a dog dick, don't you?" "Yeah. Big horse dick. Your dick. I want to be buried in cum. I want you to fist me like those guys are doing." He flicked his head at the TV where a black guy was punch fisting a young guy in a sling. "I want you to fist me like you and Ben fist. I want you to use dildoes on me and make me have a huge cunt like yours. I want you to fist me to your elbow and your armpit. I want to feel your hairy pit rub against my hole." "Looks like you like-y? And that's just a teeny bit. More to come at Master Drax." Manetti put the orange cap back on the syringe, and pointed the camera back on the boy as he rolled around feeling all his erogenous zones, spewing a watershed of perversions. Manetti left him to his pleasure, feeling his hole, pulling on his flaccid dick, tweeking his nipples, going at them all with abandon. He went over to the closet and pulled out chaps and put them on, then pulled out a chastity cage out of a drawer and put it in his pocket. He went into the kitchen where he took the metal lid off the bathtub. Fuck, he heard Chris repeating, unable to contain himself. He heard a never-ending stream of fucks and perverted ideas spewing out of the kid's mouth, that he wanted Jeff to fuck him, for Carl to fuck him. He wanted to have someone at work named Shakir cover him in Valvoline oil and fuck him. He wanted to get fucked in the gas station toilet. He wanted the gas station owner named Duke to fuck him from behind while he licked the urinal. “You think I stink, man? You should smell that toilet some time. It's righteous foul!” The kid had an imagination! He enjoyed how spun the kid was on such a little amount, how open he was to anything right now. As a test Manetti came back in the room and picked up a filthy jock strap, held it out for the boy to smell. "What do you think of this? It's your brothers." The boy sniffed it and then began to tear into it. He sucked it and his saliva made the jock wet and unlocked the odor of piss emanating from the stains. "You want to wear it over your face to meet Master? I know he'd love that. He's a nasty mother fucker like no one you've ever met." Chris was almost unrecognizable animal in his drug frenzy, nothing at all like he was when he first came in the door. He was so into it with the jock, it looked like he hardly heard what Manetti was saying. "Ya'know, you’re lucky I took your cherry. Master Drax wouldn't have been so gentle." "I don’t think," he managed to get out while chewing the jock strap, "that you were that gentle." He was high on piss fumes, high on the residual cum, reeling in lust sucking his brother's jock. He looked at Manetti like an idea had just struck him. "I liked it rough.” "I'll relay that thought, boy. C'mon, get up. You’re ready to meet Master. He's got a wide variety in his stable. The rougher, the more money he'll make off you. The less limits, the more we’ll all make. Think you'll like that?" Chris bobbed his head, agreeing to anything Manetti said to him. He sprung up and put the wet jock around his neck. Manetti steered him into the kitchen, told him to get in the tub. "You need a douse before we go." "Douse of what?" Chris asked, stepping in. "Master likes raunch, heavy raunch. Let's get you prepped and stinkin'. Open your mouth, pig. You know you want it." He hadn't thought about it but was susceptible to any suggestion coming from his idol. He laid down in the tub and opened his mouth. Manetti immediately covered him in piss, going up and down the kid's naked body. Chris ran his hands up over his torso like he was washing himself. He let out a low moan of pleasure. "Warm," he sighed. "Open." Chris stopped rubbing and opened his mouth, propping himself up on his elbows. Manetti took aim and hit his mark right on target. "Swallow." The boy obeyed. It was salty and bitter and came out of Manetti, so he guzzled the piss letting it splash in his mouth, and gulped it down into his stomach. "Good pig. You like that, pig boy?" Chris bobbed his head. Without prompting he leaned back and spread his legs to expose his hole to Manetti. "Okay, you fucking filth pig." With that, Manetti let a stream of piss hit his hole. Some went in and the kid pushed it out like a mini-geyser. "You stinkin’ fuck pig! Get up—you’re ready.” Chris scrambled getting up. They both stopped for a second regarding each other, listening to the remains of piss draining down the pipe. Two massive shark grins flashed between them. Manetti helped him step out of the tub; Chris' platinum hair yellow and flattened, his eyes electric.
    2 points
  19. It was unexpected – I’ll admit that right up front. In fact, I wasn’t even planning or looking to get laid that day. I was 20 years old and taking a summer class, so I stayed at my college for the first part of the summer. The college was located in a small town, mostly bars and mom-and-pop stores with homes built in the mid 1990s. When the college emptied out for the summer, so did the town. In fact, several of the bars closed for the season due to lack of business. It was a weekday afternoon. I was done with my class and decided to walk the mile and a half to the convenience store to grab a few things for my dorm room. It was an unusually warm day, so I pealed off my shirt, walking in just my shorts and flip flops. The sun felt awesome and, to be honest, I was feeling kinda sexy. I wasn’t thinking rationally — I know gingers are supposed to avoid the direct sun, but I didn’t care. I didn’t usually strut around shirtless in public, but the heat demanded it, and it felt good to do so. I wanted to feel free and sexy. Not that there were many people around to see. I was walking past the row of college bars. Things were pretty dead this afternoon. I saw one of the staples of Bar Row was open, The Pit. I’d been in there just a few times. It was more of a Townie bar, though the college students would certainly go in on weekends. The front of the bar was open to the street, and most of the seating was at the bar itself. I saw a few people sitting there drinking. One guy caught my attention. He was wearing jeans and a shirt with sneaker; his clothes had some paint stains on them. He had a mop of dirty blonde hair under a baseball cap. I think his name was Henry, and I’d met him a few months earlier through a friend of mine. Henry was a Townie, and he’d fucked my friend Jared during the school year. He saw me on the sidewalk and waved, then motioned me to come up to the bar. I hesitated. He motioned again, and I took a few tentative steps, not sure about going into the bar. Did I need to put on my shirt? What if they wanted ID? “How’s it going?” He asked as I got closer. “Good. Just walking down to the store.” “You’re Jeremy, right?” “Yeah. You’re Henry, right?” He grinned. “So you remembered me? I didn’t expect that.” He motioned to the bartender. “He needs a beer.” I froze, figuring this was where I got tossed out. “What are you drinking?” I answered and an icy bottle appeared in front of me. Henry pushed the little pile of dollar bills closer to the edge of the bar, and the bartender took some out of it. Seems any paying customer is welcome on a slow day. Henry and I made some idle chat while sharing a beer. Then he ordered us a pitcher. Henry wasn’t a great conversationalist. He was a local painter, never been to college, and had lived most of his life in this area. He didn’t travel much, except down to Key West a couple of times to “check things out.” He did talk about some resorts he went to that “were really hot and a lot of fun.” He was giving off subtle signs he was interested. Hr brought up my friend Jared, who had introduced us. “Jared’s a lot of fun once he relaxes,” Henry said grinning. “You two ever play together?” The question caught me off guard. I didn’t even talk about what I do sexually with someone else. I felt awkward and exposed by the question. I probably blushed. “We’ve played around a bit.” Henry grinned. “Probably not the way I’ve played with him. I think Jared learned a few new things.” That sent a thrill though me. Jared and I had had sex several times, usually after being out on the weekend. But we’d also shared a couple intentional nights where we explored together. He’d been the first person to fuck me. Only a couple guys had done it since. There was something about Henry that Jared had tried to tell me about. I knew they’d had sex a few times while I was dating someone briefly. Something about it had surprised Jared, and kind of bothered him, but he wouldn’t say what it was. “Did Jared tell you I am poz?” I froze for a moment. “No. He didn’t.” “Ah. I thought he might have. It spooked him at first, even left my apartment the first time I told him. But he came back. Once you get past all the stories about it, you realize you can still have a lot of fun.” I didn’t answer, unsure what to say. I’d always been told to avoid it, not to hook up with someone who was poz, that condoms were essential for sex, even when giving a blow job. I’d tried using them for a blow job, and it was totally awful — I decided it was worth the risks to suck a bare cock. At one point Henry slid off his stool to go the restroom, running his hand across my abs as he did so. I didn’t pull away. He was probably twice my age, but something about this was alluring. I’d never been in this situation before, and there was something about it that made me tingle. I also had to pee, so I took the opportunity to follow him toward the restroom. It was a dingy, smelly trough in the basement. Henry was standing there finishing up, shaking his dick vigorously. He looked over at me and grinned. He shook it again, letting me see the head. I was definitely feeling the beers and just stared at his cock as I stood at the trough and pulled out my own. “You like what you see?” He asked. I hesitated. What do I say? This isn’t how I’ve met guys in the past. Sure I’d snuck peeks at guys dicks at the urinal before, but never so obviously, and no one had ever asked me that question in the bathroom. “It’s okay, college boy. You should like it.” Henry stepped closer, and my hand automatically reached out to feel his dick. It was semi hard. A thrill went right through my body. The door creaked and Henry stepped away immediately. Another guy walked in, loudly proclaiming his need to pee. Henry zipped up and walked out as I struggled to hide my hardon. It took me a minute before I could pee with it. When I went back to the bar, he was back having his beer. “Finish your beer and then we’ll move on?” He suggested. “I have some beers at my place.” My heard starting racing. He wanted to take me back to his place. I wasn’t naïve or stupid. I knew what this was. My cock was hard again. I hadn’t had sex in weeks and was feeling super horny. Henry had fucked Jared a bunch of times — he must be good if Jared kept going back. And now I wondered how soon Jared had known Henry was poz. It made be nervous knowing that, and I should probably say “no thanks.” But I couldn’t muster those words. Standing there in just my shorts and flip flops, shirt tucked into my shorts, I wanted to see what would happen. His hands reached up under the leg of my shorts and started caressing the inside of my thigh. I got super nervous that the bartender would notice, but no one was watching us. “Did Jared tell you I have a thing for gingers? I’d asked him about you a few times.” I didn’t know either of those things. “Let’s get going, college boy. I have something I’ve been wanting to give you for awhile.” [If you’re enjoying the start of the story, let me know. You can simply click the blue heart to inspire the story.]
    1 point
  20. Chapter 1: The Life of Nine Daniel stepped out of the shower, water dripping off his tautly-muscled body and his still-rigid cock. From under the spray, Laszlo asked, “Does that thing ever go down?” Daniel chuckled. “You want to have another go and see if you can make it go soft?” “No, thanks. My hole is going to be sore, and my jaw’s going to ache for 3 days as it is.” Daniel methodically dried off his 9-inch pride and joy, then went back to towelling off the rest of his body. He and Laszlo had just finished filming a scene in which Daniel had face-fucked and ass-fucked the slim, boyish Hungarian for a total of five loads. He’d pumped a first load down Laszlo’s throat, then fucked Laszlo missionary and planted a second one in his hole while Laszlo came hands-free all over his abs and pecs. Without even stopping, Daniel had kept right on going, continuing to pound Laszlo’s ass, now rolling the compliant bottom onto his face and mounting him from behind, lying right along his back and pounding deep into his hole. When Laszlo yelled that he was going to cum again, Daniel speeded up and dumped his second load into Laszlo’s battered hole, then pulled out to let the cameras see what looked like a tidal wave of sperm slowly oozing its way out of the younger guy’s well-used ass. After Daniel had eaten and sucked all his cum back out of Laszlo’s stretched-out butt, he had rolled Laszlo onto his back and shoved his cock back into the boy’s mouth so Laszlo could clean him off. When he at last pulled free, the two cameramen wanted to get in on the action. Both of them were rock-hard and ready to go, and in what seemed like no time Laszlo had taken a third load up the ass and a second one down the throat. Daniel had kept right on stroking, and then drove his still-hard erection deep inside the hole of the cameraman fucking Laszlo and dropped his fourth load of the day inside another willing and tight ass while the cameraman was breeding Laszlo. It had been quite the afternoon. Even for him, this afternoon’s performance had been one for the record books, but the slim, dark-haired Laszlo had been his favourite kind of guy to fuck, and Will, the red-haired cameraman, had been cut from the same cloth – slender, muscled, and with a firm, round ass that opened right up on demand. Once he was dried off, he crawled back into the bed, tired at last and glad of a chance to get some sleep before it was time to go downstairs for the wrap party that night. It had been a busy week, during which he had filmed three scenes altogether. Just as he was dropping off to sleep, he felt another body sliding under the sheets and curling up against him. Laszlo murmured, “Is this okay?” Daniel reached out an arm, pulled the younger guy close to him, and they both fell asleep almost at once. It had been eleven years since Daniel had done his first shoot, and it was that first film that had given the then-eighteen-year old stud the advertising tag that had stuck with him ever since: “The Hawaiian Nine.” Half his reputation had come from the length and thickness of his cock, the rest from his uncanny ability to keep calling up multiple cum shots while filming. But then, his copper-coloured skin and devastatingly handsome face had done no harm for his career either. Daniel, the Hawaiian Nine, always looked as if he had just stepped off Waikiki Beach, and that was legitimate because he actually was Hawaiian. He came from a typically Hawaiian family, with various mingled bloodlines traceable to every corner of the Pacific Ocean. As a youngster, his father had been a champion surfer, and he’d passed on his skills and his love of the big waves to his eldest son. Daniel’s mother had been more problematic. As a church deacon, she had lived many hours of her life within the church at the end of the street, and it had always pained her that her son, her pride and joy, simply didn’t share her enthusiasm for Christianity at all. Daniel, of course, knew exactly why he was avoiding the church, but he also knew that sooner or later he was going to have to come clean to his parents, and that was going to be messy. In the event, he didn’t get the chance. When he was eighteen, he got a job on the mainland to earn more money for school, and it was there that he had taken on the additional job of doing favours for an older man who turned out to be a porn director. Wild sessions in his lover’s bedroom led soon enough to sessions in front of a camera, and to his first film scene. His long, thick cock had made mincemeat out of the inexperienced hole of the bottom who was paired with him, but he had gotten a bonus from the production company’s owner after delivering not one, not two, but three fountain-like money shots during the one shoot. The film, and the bonus, were his undoing. Back home in Kauai, another young gay man he’d never met fell victim to a snooping father who found the scene on his computer, recognized Daniel, and told Daniel’s mother at church what he had seen. In later life, Daniel, when telling the story, would simply say, “I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.” Things got messy all right, and in ways which he hadn’t even anticipated. His father, although concerned about his well-being, was prepared to accept his decision to work in the porn industry, but his mother most certainly was not. She had told him he was no longer welcome in her home -- and was no longer her son. When his father remonstrated with her, she turned on him, declaring that with such a weak-kneed approach to what was right and moral, he was no longer welcome either -- and that he had better leave right away so she could call a good divorce lawyer. Nor did things get any easier when Daniel’s younger brother and twin baby sisters lined up on the side of their father and their brother. The resulting divorce proceedings were messy in the extreme, becoming a nine days’ wonder in the local media. Daniel watched it all from a safe distance, in West Hollywood, and continued squirrelling away money for his education after each shoot. He made five films for the director before they broke up, and by that time he had a reputation of his own and could get jobs with any production company that wanted him. He laid down some strict guidelines for himself. Film shoots were an absolute no-no during work terms at school. He accepted offers for holiday periods only, and the offers became much more reliable and consistent when he shared his school schedule with several of the production companies which allowed him some leeway in choosing his scene partners. In due course, he finished his business finance degree with time and money to spare, and promptly bought an equity share in one of the production companies which hadn’t used his services. This firm specialized in twink-on-twink action, and had no need for Daniel’s particular abilities, but he was shrewd enough to know that this was one of the most foolproof market segments. Over time, with the help of careful investing and a bequest from a sympathetic uncle, he increased his holdings to forty percent of the total, but acted mainly as a silent partner. After all, the management was getting great results, both in the quality of films and in the financial statements, and only an idiot plays games with success. Daniel himself had bigger plans, and these became obvious when he placed his forty percent stake into the hands of a new production company with himself as sole owner, Hawaiian Nine Films. In no time, the twink studio was rebranded as “Twink Heaven, a Hawaiian Nine Company.” He then begged a couple of friends to work for nothing for him, to help him get established, and the three of them proceeded to make the new company’s first film, Hawaiian Nine Nights, which immediately put the new company onto a truly solid financial footing. Within the year, Hawaiian Nine Films had a solid professional staff to run the business and was making more and more films itself, under its own name. Daniel had hired some of the best directors and camera men in the business. The quality of his films became the envy of the industry, while his name on the website drew endless numbers of viewers. Well, that and his legendary tool. It may not have been as long as some porn dicks, but it was unquestionably one of the thickest ever seen on film – the thickness making that rampant erection appear actually shorter than it was, until a bottom began sliding down onto it, and kept right on sliding farther and longer than anyone expected. It became a sort of tradition at Hawaiian Nine Films that, whoever else was featured, the boss always performed in one scene for each film, either within the story or as a “bonus extra” only for those viewers who actually purchased the film, as opposed to simply streaming it. The film that he’d just finished making with Laszlo had been the fortieth production of Hawaiian Nine Films, and it had been the first one in a few years in which he’d played more than a single scene or bonus. He’d fucked Laszlo, he’d done a scene with another twink “borrowed” from Twink Heaven, and then he’d brought the house down by letting himself be fucked and bred on camera by the legendary Rod Rammer, whom he’d persuaded to come out of retirement for this special appearance. By now, the rumours were out on the street that Rod actually preferred to bottom, and the “bonus track” for this video featured Daniel fucking and breeding Rod, the first time that famously top-only man had ever been fucked or bred on screen. The rumours were proven to be right on target when Daniel had let his load spurt into Rod’s hole just as Rod was cumming hands-free, a fountain of cum that shot out of his rigid eleven-incher to a clear three feet in the air above his twisting, convulsing body. This whole scene was such a huge coup for Daniel that he actually had planned to market the bonus as a separately-priced item, available only at an extra fee and only for purchasers of the full-length film. After sleeping for an hour and a half, Daniel awoke to find Laszlo still sleeping and still cuddled up against him, there in the spacious master bedroom of his condo. He felt a little sorry for Laszlo, who was likely to get totally overlooked in the whole fanfare over the two scenes with Rod Rammer. Because Laszlo was actually a gifted performer as well as a sweet bottom, Daniel resolved to give him featured billing, if not as prominently as himself and Rod. As he was thinking these thoughts, Laszlo began to stir. Daniel stroked his face gently, and the younger man came awake with a beaming smile on his face. “What’s made you so happy?” “I was just dreaming about waking up in bed next to you, and look – here we are!” “Laszlo, don’t get your hopes up.” “Oh, don’t worry, I know all about that. It’s a job, it doesn’t mean anything else, don’t let yourself fall for your scene partner, blah, blah, blah.” “Smart man. Let’s hop in the hot tub on the balcony.” They went outside, pulled the cover off, and turned on the jets before settling into the steaming, bubbling water as it swirled around them. Daniel leaned back with a grateful sigh, letting the foaming action soak away the tension in his neck and shoulders. After a few minutes of relaxing, Laszlo resumed his line of questioning. “But what about you, Daniel? You could certainly do worse than fall for a sweet young thing like me. And it’s not like you’ve ever been seen with anyone since you broke up with….” “Stop right there if you ever want to get another job with Hawaiian Nine.” “Okay.” But Laszlo looked a bit doubtful. “Laszlo, I can read you like a book, and you’re asking all the questions: what makes him tick emotionally, what’s his private life like, who if anyone has been in a relationship with him, all that gossip magazine stuff that always makes everyone too damned nosy. No one knows about my private life because I don’t have one – not the way you’re thinking of it, anyway.” “Do you miss it?” There followed a moment’s silence. Then, Daniel’s taciturn reply – if you could call it a reply: “We’d better get going, don’t want to be late for the wrap party.” And he stood up, taking a towel for himself and handing Laszlo the other one. In twenty minutes they were both dressed, and Daniel shooed Laszlo out of the bedroom, saying he would follow in a minute or two. Downstairs in the big open-plan main room, the caterers had gotten everything set up and then had vanished as requested. Jim, Rod’s husband, had taken over the management of the bar, and was busily mixing and dispensing drinks to all comers. Laszlo was in a corner, making animated conversation with Terry, the other twink from the film. Will, the red-headed cameraman, was chatting with Rod Rammer, and directing covert, envious glances at the star’s legendary cock bulge. Other assorted members of the cast and production team mixed and mingled. Daniel flung himself into the party, mixing and mingling with his best sparkling smile and vigorous laugh. Rod Rammer cornered him, with a proposition – he and Jim would love to have Daniel come over for another private three-way, like the one they’d had the previous year when the whole idea for Rod’s appearance in the film had been hatched. Eddie, the other cameraman, let him know that he had left a camera running when he and Will had gone to town on Laszlo, and there might easily be another scene or bonus in that footage. Terry came to talk to him, plainly angling for another film gig. Daniel was polite but noncommittal. During their scene, Terry had been about as sexy as a lump of rock, and it had been a challenge to stay hard and to cum on cue. Other voices tossed out other casting suggestions to him, a few of which intrigued him enough to make a mental note to investigate. But all the time, somewhere deep inside, he was pondering Laszlo’s question. Did he miss having a private life? The more he thought about that, the quieter he became, and the people there who knew him best could tell that the boss was deep inside himself again, and likely to remain that way for the balance of the evening. The party finally began to wind down, with the business management team of Hawaiian Nine doing the honours of helping all the guests on their way. At last, the condo was empty except for them, and they quickly said goodnight to Daniel and left themselves. Daniel was alone. But not really alone, because Laszlo’s question was still hanging in the air. Did he miss – did he even want – a private life?
    1 point
  21. Well said. When that sense of duty to others (meaning, either restraining our temptations to "burn' others for their shared thoughts about whatever) is not observed, the entire social construct is weakened. Not just here on BZ, but everywhere. Sure, it takes a few years of living to recognize sometimes, but eventually the majority will learn and accept that anti-social commentary serves no constructive purpose, and only diminishes the turd-throwers.
    1 point
  22. I'm hard and dripping after watching this. Make sure you watch until the end. I love the way the top trembles. [think before following links] https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph63ca975168df4
    1 point
  23. My experience mirrors that of @GymAddict If anything, my sexual encounters went up. I wasn’t a Covid denier and, in fact, have now had 6 jabs. But working in the media made me a lockdown/mask sceptic because I witnessed first hand how the media was whipping up hysteria for clickbait. My cynicism only increased when those of us working in television production were considered “an essential industry” (really?) and given permits to travel, which felt all very “Show me your papers!” It was a bit like being given a Golden Ticket. The Swedish response, much derided at the time, is now being vindicated by every major study into Covid policies. But I digress. I, too, had two houses during this period, and travelled every week between the two. Grindr, Scruff, BBRT and FabGuys (especially FabGuys) were busier than normal in Manchester (but flaking declined considerably, interestingly enough) and because I had an apartment in MediaCity and could accommodate, let’s say I didn’t go without. I must say that I did form a bbubble for a while, so my hookups were more regular. In that sense, my behaviour did alter a bit. At my apartment block there, which was curious mix of showbiz folk and drug dealers, there were parties every weekend. But, then, our Lords and Masters in Downing Street who came up Covid restrictions were partying, too, (a reference only Brits might get). Do I feel guilty about any of this? Not a jot. I took an informed risk assessment and acted accordingly. I found much of the reporting from some of my colleagues reprehensible, especially as I knew many of them, too, were breaching Covid restrictions. But then many, if not most, people did if they’re honest with themselves. Some just bent the rules more than others.
    1 point
  24. If I see one when I'm at the ABS, I dump the cum on my chest and shirt so I can smell it when I leave and go home. I get hard when my wife looks at me knowing it's a strangers cum and ask me how my night was..
    1 point
  25. @NLbear not to worry, there's still plenty more of Daniel and other characters to come.
    1 point
  26. This story is so underrated.. wish there’s a sequel
    1 point
  27. It's been my - well, 2nd - favorite act of sexual bonding for decades. It's not the healthiest of Lusts, but a hot-holed bottom with a line of guys waiting their turn just turns my crank big time. I particularly like a hairy Hole, since the hair helps hold the loads from just running down the bottom's balls, dripping on the floor/pavement/ground, etc. There's more, but it may be a bit over the esoteric edge for most guys. Suffice to say that "bonding" is important, and entails far, far more than just the one bottom ....
    1 point
  28. One of two things. Either they are used to dealing with women (who usually don't like sucking and don't want cum in their mouth) Or they still believe pulling out is 'safe sex' and guys that swallow are probably not 'clean'.
    1 point
  29. I've only had one instance of this happen, where a guy quickly pulled out while I was sucking him and then came on the floor. I asked him why and he said it was because he was positive and that he hadn't disclosed that before our encounter.
    1 point
  30. I can't speak for the site or for RawTop (ie on the policy) but I can speak a bit towards the legal issues. While the exact definition of prostitution varies from state to state, ie what the basic elements of the crime are, that must be proven for a conviction, as a general rule it's agreeing to accept something of value in exchange for a sexual act. "Something of value" could be cash, jewelry, drugs, or whatever; "sexual act" could be anything from a handjob to full-on intercourse. The tricky part is "in exchange for" - ie, would the parties have agreed to engage in the sex act but for the something of value? So any request for assistance, support, etc. that comes AFTER the act becomes pretty problematic in terms of proving prostitution - it's not like the purported sex worker can "take back" the sex if the other person doesn't tip. That doesn't mean waiting to pay until you're done with sex puts you in the clear - the key is whether the agreement for the payment happened before the sex act happened. Stating that you're seeking "generous" guys, but accepting a monetary thank-you after the fact, is probably walking right up to the line but not crossing it. (See negotiations, below, for more on this.) For things of value that exchange before the act - the more attenuated the circumstances the better, legally speaking. So, for instance, taking someone to a nice dinner, and then going back for fucking afterward, might technically be prostitution if the agreement was explicit - feed me and I'll fuck you - but that so rarely happens. The non-sex-worker, in such a case, has a pretty good case that he was simply taking out someone he fancied, and was hoping that the fancying went both directions. Transportation is almost certainly in the clear: the implication is that you were going to have sex, regardless, and paying for his transport to get to you was simply a logistical issue, not a commercial transaction. If there's any negotiation - discussing what $25 vs $150 might get you - it's pretty much a slam dunk case.
    1 point
  31. Turns out the Best Western isn't just "the world's best lodging chain." It's "the world's best lodging strain" as well. Lol.
    1 point
  32. Chapter 6: Cummings and Goings Laszlo’s guess had been right on target. About a week after his afternoon with Adam, he’d gotten a phone call from Johannis and Miguel, advising him that they were planning to get married and that Johannis would like Laszlo to be his best man. Miguel was asking Ryan. They’d already found a couple of agreeable dates with Ryan, and they had an automatic bye for any Saturday they wanted until June, The space which they planned to use was “officially” closed for renovations, but the hotel was prepared to open it for a weekend for them. It helped that the assistant manager of the banquet facility was Miguel’s aunt. Laszlo confirmed the date with them right then and there, and then clicked off, grinning smugly at the accuracy of his prediction. Three months later, he arrived at the wedding venue with the happy couple and Ryan, and they proceeded to run over last-minute details with the celebrant and the grooms. As the seats filled up towards the official start time of 5:00 pm. Laszlo was pleased to see that the entire Hawaiian Nine Films gang had showed up. Daniel, wearing his smartest clothes and most polished manners, was squiring Lianne to the party, while Marina arrived on Paulo’s arm, basking in the handsome Brazilian’s chivalrous attention. The ceremony was not long, but it was certainly heartfelt. Johannis and Miguel looked stunning in matching midnight-blue tuxedos with light greyish-blue lapels. The pair had written their own vows, and each had managed to build in some explanation of why the two of them had come together so quickly and thoroughly when they first met. That theme got covered in more depth during speeches after dinner. Laszlo and Ryan had themselves a grand old time roasting the happy couple, their snappy cracks drawing gales of laughter from the audience, and especially from the grooms’ families. After the speeches, the floor was cleared for a dance and the DJ got busy. From then on until the bar closed at 2:00 am, there was hardly anyone to be seen sitting down. The entire assembly was on the floor, dancing up a storm for hours. The climax came when Laszlo and Ryan undid their ties, wrapped them loosely around their necks, and then tied the loose ends to each other to create an impromptu limbo bar. Everyone present took a turn at trying to slide under the “bar”, and the laughter mounted as the bar sank lower and the competition became more intense. To the surprise of many of those present, Daniel was the last one standing. When asked later, he said simply, “Surfing forces you to be flexible.” Ryan had a better explanation, which drew another big laugh from all present, including Daniel. “When you’re the boss, the models let you win.” Lianne and Marina actually left together fairly early, just after midnight, and that gave Laszlo the opening he was hoping for. He closed in on Daniel, and asked him, “After the happy couple leaves, do you want to come back to my room?” Caught off guard and cornered by surprise, Daniel agreed. Half an hour later, the two of them slid out together. Once they were into Laszlo’s room in the hotel, they quickly locked together in an embrace, mouths seeking each other eagerly as they began kissing each other. In five more minutes, Daniel was nestled neatly in between Laszlo’s legs, his cock sliding into the younger man’s hole as they continued making out. Laszlo wrapped his legs around Daniel’s back, using them to pull the big guy’s cock deeper inside him. His arms were also wrapped around Daniel’s body, letting him feel the straining muscles of Daniel’s back as he began driving deep inside Laszlo. Daniel was really excited, and a bit proud of himself, to feel how Laszlo just opened right up and took him in, giving his thick nine-inch cock full access into the deepest recesses of his man cunt. He was also amazed at how easily and smoothly they moved together. They’d only had sex together four times before, and one of those had been while they were filming so it hardly counted – and yet they were coupling as neatly and precisely as if they’d been doing it like this for a decade. Daniel held on tighter to Laszlo and rolled over onto his back, bringing Laszlo up to sit on top and ride him. Laszlo demonstrated that he’d quickly gained a great repertoire of different moves in this position, giving a virtuoso demonstration of cock-riding techniques that soon had Daniel groaning that he was going to cum. Laszlo didn’t even slow down. He wanted Daniel’s load, and he wanted it now. Daniel groaned again at the delicious torture Laszlo’s talented ass was inflicting on him and then suddenly realized that he was about to let go. He grasped Laszlo’s hips firmly, and began driving hard and fast, straight up inside that wonderful hole. After just six or seven ferocious thrusts, he slammed it in and held it there, hips arched into the air as his cock convulsed and spewed his seed deep inside Laszlo’s body. Laszlo held on for the ride. When Daniel’s hips dropped back onto the bed and he gasped for breath, Laszlo speeded up his riding motions, arching his back to get the Hawaiian Nine to tickle his prostate. In just another minute, he cried out, “Fucking cumming!” and his cock began spitting cum all over Daniel’s abs. Finally he slowed to a halt. He lifted slowly up until Daniel’s big tool plopped out of his ass. Then, he let a stream of cum flow out of him and onto Daniel’s muscled body. Finally, he lay down alongside Daniel, wrapped his arms around that beautiful bronze-skinned torso, and the two of them drifted off to sleep together. In a deluxe suite on the top floor, Johannis and Miguel lay snuggled up against each other. One might think they’d be tired out after the frantic activity of their wedding day, but they weren’t too tired to relax themselves properly. Johannis had given Miguel a signature ferocious fucking, dropping two big loads inside his hole before slowly, regretfully, pulling out. Now, as they cuddled, Johannis had a pensive look on his face. “What is it, mi amor?” Miguel asked him. “Just thinking. In many societies, it was traditional to ensure that the bride was a virgin before the wedding so that the groom took her virginity.” Miguel chuckled. “We a pair of virgins?” “Well… nooo, but….” “But what?” Johannis kissed him and then looked right into his eyes, as he fastened his hand once again onto Miguel’s semi-hard cock. “Miguel, you’ve never fucked me. I’d love for tonight to be your first time to eat my hole and to cum inside my ass.” As he said those words, Johannis felt Miguel’s cock swiftly harden right back up to full erection. No more words were needed. He rolled onto his back, lifting his legs up to give Miguel access to his butt and his hole. There was no question that Miguel wanted to do it, but he looked a little scared. “I no fuck a guy before. Always they fuck me.” “That’s okay – I’ll tell you what to do.” Johannis was rock-hard again himself at the thought of feeling his love, Miguel, sliding and cumming inside him, and knowing that this would be his first ass breeding. “Just start eating my hole. You know what I do to you. Do the same.” Miguel was certainly an eager student. In no time, he had Johannis twisting and moaning all over the place as he slurped away at the big guy’s ass, sucking on his hole and thrusting into it with his tongue. After a few minutes, he added a finger. It became obvious that he really had been paying attention whenever he and Johannis had sex before, because he started twisting the finger around in the hole. Almost by accident, he bumped into the prostate and Johannis let out a sudden loud “Oh, fuck!” “Is good?” “Far more than just good, my love. Keep doing that.” Miguel glanced up as he fingered the hole, and saw a long, clear stream of nectar dropping slowly from Johannis’ erect cock and pooling on his belly. Without even thinking, he slid up and began licking up the fluid, then took that beautiful cock in his mouth to clean it all up. Johannis groaned aloud. “I can’t take much of that without cumming. I’m ready. Use it to lube up your cock, and then slide it inside me.” Following directions to the letter, and adding a couple of spits for good measure, Miguel placed his painfully hard cock against Johannis’ tight hole and pushed. In a few seconds the opening stretched wide, and he slid inside, gasping at the incredible sensation of a tight ass gripping and stroking his cock. “How does it feel, Miguel.” “Amazing. So tight, so hot. I never felt this before.” “Just wait, it gets better. Now, fuck me!” Miguel began sliding in and out of the muscular ass under him, and Johannis reached up and pulled him down so they could make out while he was fucking his first ass. After only a minute or so, Miguel’s breathing began to get ragged and Johannis knew what that meant. But he also knew that he didn’t want this special joy to stop too soon. “Whoa! Steady, take it easy. It’s not a race. You’ll learn how to hold it off. For now, take it out and I’ll roll over.” When he’d done that, he added, “Lie down on top of me and slide your cock up and down in my crack.” He reached back and up and grasped Miguel’s slender hips so he could control the pace at which Miguel slid back and forth, keeping it nice and slow. Then Johannis reached down, grasped Miguel’s cock, and planted it against his hole once more. Miguel slid back in and began to thrust again. Within only a minute or so, he again began snatching at mouthfuls of air – and then cried out, “I no wait – going to cum now!” Johannis pushed his ass up, letting Miguel get even deeper, and roared, “Yeah, go for it. Slam fuck me and fill me up. Cum in my ass!” Miguel began rapidly jack-hammering Johannis and then slammed his cock in hard. Johannis could feel the shaft pulsing in his hole, so he squeezed on it in time with the pulses. Miguel started giving him sharp little jabs with his cock to force the cum as far inside as possible. After a minute, his orgasm finally ebbed and died away, but Miguel didn’t pull out. He knew that it was perfectly possible to keep fucking and cum again – Johannis had done it to him often enough. In moments he was pounding into the blond Viking’s hole, working up to a ferocious tempo and slapping his balls against the taint with every stroke. It took only a couple of minutes before he erupted, spraying a second big load into Johannis. Finally he calmed down, and his cock softened and slid out of his man. Johannis rolled over, with a broad smile spreading across his face, and pulled Miguel down into his arms. “That was incredible. Well done, husband.” Miguel smiled too, and they kissed each other for a while longer until sleep finally took command. “Buenas noches, mi esposo,” Miguel murmured sleepily, drifting off into slumber as Johannis gently kissed him one last time, and then pulled the duvet up over them and followed his lead. Sunrise came early, but wakefulness came later. It was somewhere past 8:00 when Daniel slowly stirred and opened his eyes. What followed was a real moment of déjà vu for Daniel. He looked to the side and got a sudden jolt of memory on seeing the sleeping figure of Laszlo, still cuddled up against him. He thought of waking Laszlo up but decided against it. Instead, he eased his way out of bed and began setting up the coffee maker. Just as he was pouring the water into the top of the machine, he felt two hands slide around his waist and a head nestled down against the backs of his shoulders. “Leave that alone and come back to bed. The coffee can wait a bit – can’t it?” As Laszlo said that, Daniel felt something rigid prodding at the crack of his ass. “Oh, so that’s what you’ve got in mind, is it?” “Fair’s fair. You helped yourself to mine at top speed and then passed out without even giving me a chance to return the favour.” “I can hear you pouting. Don’t do it. You can never improve your looks by pouting.” “I know I can improve my looks by having my way with you. Come on back to bed.” Daniel sighed, then chuckled, and then turned around and let himself be drawn back to the tangle of sheets and pillows. Laszlo nudged him around until his back was to the bed. Daniel was half expecting a shove to send him flying onto his back, but Laszlo had something more subtle in mind. He began kissing Daniel, steadily increasing the urgency and passion of the kisses, and as he did he was slowly easing Daniel down onto the bed, and then onto his back. Laszlo was now lying on top of Daniel, stroking his body with smooth caresses as they made out for some minutes. By now both of them were rock hard, but Laszlo was not in a hurry. He had another agenda. Sliding and kissing his way down Daniel’s body, he enveloped the Hawaiian Nine in his mouth for a couple of minutes, and then released it, sliding his busy tongue and lips down under Daniel’s balls and down the taint towards his crack. As he went, Daniel instinctively lifted his legs into the air, without any conscious thought. Laszlo’s tongue snaked into his crack, seeking the hole and prodding into it. It took a few more minutes of slow but steady tongue work, but at last Daniel’s hole was opened and twitching. “Pull yourself up onto the bed.” Daniel slid obediently back until his head landed on the pillow, and then pulled his legs all the way over until they were resting on his shoulders. Laszlo got up on his knees, placed the wet head of his cock against Daniel’s hole and pressed inwards. Daniel opened right up and yielded to Laszlo, and he took in the entire cock as it entered him in one slow slide. Laszlo fitted himself in between Daniel’s muscular thighs, lying right down on top of his body, and caressed Daniel with his hands as he began a slow, gentle fucking motion. His cock was sliding all the way home, and pulling right out until only the tip was grasped by Daniel’s hole, then sliding in again. “Slow motion fucking?” Daniel asked, in a slightly ironic tone. “I’m in no hurry. Are you?” With that, he varied the angle and his next thrust brushed against Daniel’s gland. Daniel emitted a sound that was half moan, half sigh. “I’ll take that as a no.” And Laszlo resumed his slow, easy motion, varying the angle and depth, but never speeding up. It gave him plenty of spare energy to use in stroking Daniel, in toying with his nipples, and in covering his mouth with a nonstop stream of gentle kisses. As unusual and unexpected as this kind of sex was, it was having an effect. Daniel slowly drifted into a deep erotic trance, his mind disconnecting from the outside world as his sensory input narrowed down to Laszlo and Laszlo’s cock. Without any conscious thought, he put his hands up and began to caress Laszlo’s body, then wrapped his legs around Laszlo’s back to pull him closer. Laszlo sighed deeply as he felt Daniel beginning to respond in the same fashion. He’d so much wanted to find a way to tell the boss how he was feeling, and he’d figured that making love to this man he loved and wanted so badly was the way to go. And it was working. Daniel was moving into the same headspace – and responding in the same gentle, meaningful way. It moved Laszlo deeply to see the brisk, ironic, distanced Daniel of everyday life slowly vanish before his eyes. Here instead was a Daniel he’d never seen before, a vulnerable man, open to his partner, free to express all kinds of emotions and feelings that he dared not set free in the sight of the wider world. And Laszlo continued working his cock gently in Daniel’s ass, making love to this man who had given him so much and meant so much to him. At last, though, the inevitable could be postponed no longer. Laszlo whispered in Daniel’s ear, “Are you ready to take my load?” As if in a trance, Daniel as softly replied, “Yes… yes… give it all to me… cum inside me.” Laszlo broke his rhythm just long enough to give six or seven rapid thrusts, and to stop dead as his cock erupted and convulsed inside Daniel’s body. As the convulsions died away, he resumed his gentle kissing, and Daniel responded in kind. At last, his cock softened and slowly slipped out of the hole. Laszlo watched as Daniel slowly emerged or wakened from his tranced state. The look he turned on Laszlo was wide-eyed, amazed, unlike any expression he’d ever seen on Daniel’s face before. “Holy hell, what did you just do to me?” “The same thing you just did to me. We were using sex as a means to an end, not just as an end in itself. That’s what it’s like when you’re making love, not just fucking.” Daniel laid there, puzzling over and absorbing the amazing experience. Laszlo lay beside him, gently stroking and caressing his body. At last, Laszlo spoke again. “Ready to move to the next stage?” “What’s that?” “Coffee, of course.” Suddenly, Daniel shook himself with a laugh, jumped off the bed, and set the coffeemaker going.
    1 point
  33. I posted in this thread a year ago, and my experiences are on the 2nd page. I want to give an update. Since getting my PA installed, I have lost nearly all sensitivity in my dick. It is not "more intense" orgasming, and it's not "two points of sensation" for me. It hurts. I have to put a finger through the ring to keep it from bouncing all over when jerking off. The ring becomes quite sticky and almost uncleanable after shooting a load unless I shower (which seldom follows such an activity). When fucking, I feel no real difference except that I shoot sooner. When I can break my 30 second record, that's not a good thing. I don't know what my bottoms have felt, but I think they are happy to just have the experience. So far, no one's asked me to remove it before sex. Not that I would know how to do so anyway, since it's a captive bead. I don't feel any different when bottoming. I also observe that, when sweating, the damn ring sticks to my pubes, and occasionally pulls them out. And my current boyfriend says I shouldn't get a bigger ring because he can barely get it in his mouth right now with the 6 gauge ring. Not that we have sex that often for it to be an issue, but still! I have found oral sex to be less frequent for me since installation, but that doesn't do much for me anyway, so not a significant loss. Still have to sit down to piss. Do I regret it? Not really. It's just another part of me. I mostly did it for my porn career, but I don't think it has helped much. It's just pretty. That's about it.
    1 point
  34. Chapter 4: Life’s a Beach Shooting continued for the next few days, but with plenty of downtime for everyone in the company to relax and enjoy the sun, the pool, and the sand. Early afternoon was the chosen time to film the scenes, and both Paulo’s pairing with the tiny Irish lad, Ryan, and Laszlo’s sizzling scene with Rod Rammer passed Daniel’s personal hotness-meter test. Ryan turned out to be the kind of bottom who squirmed around, twisting every which way as a top drove into him, and it gave the scene an extra erotic charge as the viewer could easily imagine Paulo’s hard cock bouncing off every side and angle of Ryan’s tunnel in turn. In the scene with Rod and Laszlo, it was a difficult task (Daniel called it a “hard” one) to sort out which of the two successive ass breedings was the hotter one. Rod may have managed to hold off longer, but Laszlo certainly gave full value for money. From the moment when Laszlo went for the big shot inside Rod’s ass until the end of the scene with Rod pumping his load into Laszlo was a good solid 25 minutes of video, and Daniel was sure that the entire action could be used without any cutting of the time sequence. As for Daniel, he’d had a great old time getting to breed Eddie in a hot little mini-scene which Will filmed for them, as well as saving up a couple more huge loads for the big orgy scene. Before they went for that grand finale, the entire crew relaxed for two full days of downtime, with any sex once again forbidden. The boss wanted the biggest collection of giant cumshots ever for the orgy scene, and he’d made his expectations very clear. Every top was to shoot several times inside the hole and then pull out and squirt some more over the backs of their respective bottoms. There was some grumbling from a couple of the novices who’d never worked with Daniel before, but Will and Eddie explained patiently to them that Daniel’s methods, although they might sound a bit savage with so many hot men around, got the results he wanted in no uncertain terms. So everyone spent the two quiet days on lounge chairs or on beach towels, swimming in the pool or the ocean, soaking up the hot Spanish sun, and cracking an endless stream of sexual puns to try to let out their frustration. One thing everyone couldn’t help noticing was that Johannis and Miguel walked out of the hotel practically glued to each other. They pulled two lounge chairs by the pool extra close together, and there they lay, looking at each other, stroking each other periodically, and conversing quietly together as they stared – as far as you could tell through the mirrored sunglasses – deep into each other’s eyes. Daniel was particularly intrigued. He realized that he’d had a sense of something special between the two during the casting meetings, but he had to admit that he’d never expected it to go this far, this quickly. He also noticed that Laszlo was looking, if not jealous, at least a bit put out as he studied them. Daniel wondered idly which of the two might be causing his Hungarian beauty’s case of the hots below the belt and under the collar. Not that the boss was completely idle during this downtime. When preparing an orgy scene, he always wanted to figure out the first pairings ahead of time and arrange a signal for when the camera men should call “time” and have everyone switch. After that, he was content to let the guys wander where they would and play with whom they wished. Now, though, he realized that he was probably going to have to read the riot act to Johannis and Miguel, just so they wouldn’t simply gravitate back to each other and drop out of the larger scene. For now, though, he just wanted to relax. He had his scene plan all worked out in his head, and that was, after all, only a starting point, a kind of first play of the game. He was quite content to lie here in the sun, on a lounge chair, and enjoy the scenery. But that was a problem in itself, since the scenery was itself very distracting. True, he’d seen all these guys naked before, at one time or another, but Daniel still enjoyed the thrill of the chase, and he still found a minimally-clothed man more fascinating than a nude one. All the guys in the company had dressed down into either tiny, short shorts or some form of bikinis or thongs. Miguel’s lovely ass was best shown off by a bright orange thong which allowed his curvy brown buns to pop right out. Paulo’s flame-red speedo had the kind of built-in front pouch which thrusts the hardware forward and up. Laszlo’s tight blue briefs used a back seam to accentuate the crack of his ass, while the front didn’t neglect his perfectly respectable cock. Johannis was wearing blue and white shorts, with the white lying in a slightly curved vertical stripe right up the middle. Ryan’s blazing red hair and pale skin was set off by a shamrock-green brief with side clips, and his hand kept wandering down there to fiddle with the clips suggestively. Steve and Jim had on matching pride-patterned speedos. Daniel glanced down complacently at his own shorts, now bulging enticingly. He taken a pair of standard Hawaiian-patterned board shorts and had them cut down to crotch length, then fitted with angled hems so the bottom edges pointed in a vee right at his package. The tool there was making a decided lump in the front of his shorts, not surprising after he’d been taking such a detailed inventory of his troupe of models. He stood up and dived into the pool, urgently needing to cool himself off a bit. After that swim, Daniel laid back flat on his lounge and let himself drift off into dreamland. He was woken by a hand shaking him, and a voice calling his name. He came back into waking life to find Laszlo leaning over him, one hand on his shoulder, and the crotch of his speedo bulging. Daniel guessed that Laszlo had been staring at him for a few minutes, and perhaps rubbing himself, before he’d finally acted to wake up the boss. “Daniel. Hey, Daniel.” “Umm?” “Sun’s going down and we’re all heading inside to get ready for dinner. Join us?” “Yeah.” He swung his legs around, planted his feet on the ground, and looked up to see all these prime slabs of muscle from his company staring him in the face. Shaking himself fully awake, he stood up, slapped a high five with two or three of his cast, and they headed back into the hotel. Dinner was a friendly, funny meal, with people teasing each other over things that had happened during the last week, both at the awards party and during the filming sessions. As always, for the night before a shoot, Daniel kept himself down to just one glass of wine, and then ran on Perrier for the rest of the evening. Steve and Jim sat with him and got him laughing with Jim’s story of how Steve, as Rod Rammer, had first gotten to know him -- Perrier played a role in that tale too. On Friday, the entire crew and cast assembled in the filming suite. The guys helped each other with little last minute details. No showers were taken. Daniel knew that with this many men, the showers would take up most of the filming day, so everyone had been given strict instructions to shower in their own suites before coming up to the penthouse. Once the men were all in position, Will and Eddie turned on the lights and cameras, and Eddie then called “action.” Johannis and Ryan were quickly locked in a passionate embrace. Paulo was already pushing Miguel’s face downwards towards his bulge. Rod was holding Laszlo close in his arms while he slid his hands downwards to cup those enticing cheeks. Daniel was standing over against the wall, watching Paulo and Miguel and squeezing his own bulge as he watched. The scene heated up rapidly. Johannis quickly pushed Ryan down onto his back on some cushions, coming down on top of him and stroking and licking his body all over. Ryan, in his typical fashion, was already twisting around like a snake under the Icelandic stud and moaning up a storm. Eddie had moved in a circle around Rod and Laszlo, letting his camera watch the two of them playing with each other’s asses. For the viewer, it would be anyone’s guess which of the two was going to fuck and which one would get fucked. There was no guesswork involved in the third pairing. Paulo had both hands clamped onto the back of Miguel’s head and was steadily pumping his erect cock in and out of Miguel’s mouth. It was easy to see that Miguel was finding Paulo’s tool a challenge, but he kept on giving his best shot at deep-throating the Brazilian stud. Now Daniel worked around and got down on the floor, starting to eat at Miguel’s ass while Miguel was busy at the other end. Meanwhile, Johannis had begun eating out Ryan’s ass, and that left Ryan’s mouth free to take a first go at Daniel’s tool, the famous Hawaiian Nine, since he found it conveniently close to his eager mouth. Ryan had gotten that cock entirely into his mouth when Johannis planted his cock against Ryan’s hole and began to push. The cute Irish twink opened up and let him in. Now there were five guys locked together in a chain of fucking, sucking, and ass eating. Soon enough, Paulo got Miguel to turn around and bend over, and Paulo changed places with Daniel, letting Daniel have the cock while he worked his erect tool into Miguel’s tight hole. The scene kept evolving and changing, with almost as many changes of partners as a country square dance. After another half an hour of steady fucking and sucking and rimming, Paulo had moved on to have a go at Laszlo, while Daniel had found Miguel’s cute little ass close at hand and well opened up, so he slid right in and began to pound. Johannis had shifted over to Rod and took a first turn at his ass, while Rod himself had begun fucking Ryan. All of the guys had already cum once and were still rock-hard and winding up to another epic blast-off. This time, Rod was the first one to gasp that he was going to cum. Johannis started to pull out, but Rod reached back and pulled him in deeper, yelling, “No! Pound me, stud!” Johannis responded with a will and that was all that was needed to send Rod Rammer over the edge, his legendary eleven-incher quivering and pulsating as he delivered a healthy blast of his jizz inside Ryan’s fuck tunnel. As soon as Rod’s hole began spasming from the cum shots, Johannis drove harder and faster and fired off inside the famous porn stud. Both men pulled out while they were still cumming, and added several spurts across Ryan’s ass cheeks, which looked good enough to lick. The noisy soundtrack of their orgasms gave Paulo the impetus to drive deeper and harder into Laszlo, who quivered, yelled, “Oh, fuck,” and shot six huge squirts of cum onto his face, chest, and abs as Paulo fired off inside his ass, before pulling out and adding a cream garnish across Laszlo’s sexy body. That left Daniel, who was driving Miguel into a quivering mass of bottom joy, thrusting his thick cock all the way down into the Mexican’s spasming butt over and over. Suddenly, Miguel forced his ass up, and blasted bolts of cum onto the floor under him before collapsing flat on his face. Daniel followed him down, slamming harder and harder until his cock began to jerk. He yanked out, shot some cream across Miguel’s milk-chocolate coloured ass, drove back in and pumped some more cum inside that beautiful hole, and then pulled out again and shot two more jets across his ass before letting the rest slowly drizzle out as he wiped his dick across those brown cheeks. After a few more seconds, Will announced, “Cameras off,” and all seven of them sprawled out on the floor, gasping for air. The action had certainly been intense. Eddie walked over to where Paulo and Laszlo were lying side by side, grinned down at them, and said, “See what I mean about the time out, guys?” Paulo, too tired even to speak, only nodded. Laszlo gasped, “I’ve never cum like that before. Yeah, it’s intense, but it’s still fucking unfair!” Across the room, Daniel chuckled. After taking a quick look at some of the footage, Daniel was thrilled and knew that he had another epic, award-winning film on his hands. That night, he treated the whole company to dinner in a gourmet restaurant along the street from the hotel. With the limits off, it was a rowdy, raucous party. The next day, the gang all enjoyed a last day of sun at the pool and beach, while Daniel sat inside with Will and Eddie, going through all the footage to make sure there weren’t any bad spots they would need to patch up before flying back to L.A. When they finally appeared on the beach at 4:45, they endured a lot of ribbing from the others about what they had really been doing all day. Before that, the teasing had all centred on Johannis and Miguel who were now behaving exactly like a married couple. Daniel just smiled and waved the teasing off. Truth be told, though, he had fucked both of the camera guys by way of a breather during the afternoon, before dumping yet another load inside Will’s compliant ass. On Sunday morning, during the flight back home, most of the guys were dozing or outright sleeping in their individual bed-cubicles. Daniel blessed his good fortune in having attracted a backer who was both well-stocked with money and intensely turned on by the thought of being fucked by famous porn tops. The bonus of this multi-millionaire buying first-class tickets for everyone wasn’t lost on Daniel, or on any of the rest of the cast. Several of them had never flown first class before, let alone actually flying at all. The spectacle of all these prime slabs of man flesh lying back and sleeping all over the cabin was also causing a bit of a stir among the flight attendants, two of whom were plainly attracted to the bigger guys present. One of them all but rubbed his firm chest across Daniel’s face when leaning across “to refill your coffee.” A couple of the members of the team, though, were watching Daniel carefully. Lianne was one of them. She’d handled the business end of Daniel’s venture ever since he’d set it up, and she knew his mind and moods probably better than anyone else there. She flagged down Laszlo as he walked by towards the washroom, then beckoned him to lean down for a second. “Laszlo, you notice anything about Daniel today?” Laszlo glanced at him for a moment. “Yeah,” he murmured back. “He looks kind of antsy.” “That’s what I thought. Antsy, and a bit worried with it. And that makes me worried. Can you maybe talk to him, see if you can find out what’s eating at him?” “Me? Why me, Lianne?” “Because this is personal. I can’t ask, he’ll just think I want to talk contracts and video rights. And I’m asking you because he seems more comfortable with you than with some of the others, more laid back and less defensive. I think you might be able to get him to talk.” Laszlo sighed. “Well, I can try.” His effort didn’t go very far. Daniel did, however, unbend enough to say, “It’s not something I can really talk about here. But there’s something else, something I’d like to discuss with you in some detail. Can you swing by my office on Wednesday at, let’s say, 3:30 in the afternoon?" “No problem,” Laszlo replied. He was a bit chagrined, but he hadn’t been shut down outright and maybe he could get under the surface of Daniel’s nerves at that time. Daniel and Laszlo both entered the appointment in their phones, and Laszlo went back to his seat. He’d report to Lianne later, during the long stopover at New York JFK, but for now he just wanted to sleep.
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  35. Can't say I'm really a "cumdump* but hell, If I have guy continually hitting me up to breed me, i wouldn't say no. But even now, the amp not of guys contacting me is far less than what is what before the pandemic and even in the early stages of it. Seems like it's getting a bit better, but where I am at, rent is so high, not all guys can host due to having roommates, etc for whatever reason
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  36. Chapter 3: Party Time The atmosphere was upbeat as the members of the company boarded their transatlantic flight to Barcelona, settling comfortably into seats in business class thanks to the generosity of one of Daniel’s backers who was cherishing fond hopes of what his generosity might lead to. They were all busy toasting each other backwards and forwards around the cabin as the drinks came around before dinner, and then settled down to a good meal and a quiet overnight. Their plans included a couple of days of sightseeing or whatever in the Catalan capital, then the awards show and post-show party. However, there was to be no sex at all during that time, as Daniel needed everyone to save up as much as possible for their trip to Sitges and filming sessions immediately after the awards night. The people in the group who’d worked most often or longest with Daniel were really surprised to see the sometimes-uptight boss relaxing and unwinding so much during their time in Barcelona. As the various people in the group posted multiple pictures of their fun times around the city to their social media, Daniel’s dazzling smile often appeared on the cameras as opposed to his normal brooding stare. It seemed obvious that the Hawaiian Nine was for once going to let his hair down and actually enjoy his life. But appearances can sometimes be deceiving. As Daniel said afterwards to Lianne, the company’s business manager, “First the bad news.” Not only did Jim flatly refuse to appear in a video with his husband, the legendary star Rod Rammer (actual name: Steve), but Steve backed him up 100% and told Daniel that after this last appearance he was going to retire again, and this time it was definitely for good. It was during the breakfast hour on their flight over to Barcelona that Daniel had broached his ambitious scene plan to Steve and Jim, and they were still well over an hour from their destination when Jim gave his plan the thumbs-down, in no uncertain terms. “But that doesn’t mean that we’re not still friends,” Jim hastened to add. Steve agreed. “One hundred percent. It’s just that, for me personally, coming back into the business was a mistake. I’d quit for all the right reasons before, when I met Jim, and coming back was something I did for a whole pile of wrong reasons.” Daniel then made one of his signature quick recoveries. “Well, if this is definitely the last “lights, camera, action,” for you, who would you like me to pair you up with for your final scene?” “What about Laszlo? Do you think you could persuade him to do a switch-fuck with me?” “You mean, he does you and you do him?” “That’s what I mean.” “So who gets to breed?” Daniel asked. “Good question.” Steve pondered for a minute. “Maybe flip a coin?” Jim put in his two cents’ worth. “Since he’s young and inexperienced, he could probably shoot first inside you, and then you can breed him afterwards. You’ve had plenty of experience in delaying the inevitable.” Daniel wrapped up the discussion. “Well, we’ve already seen both of you bred on screen in the last film. Why don’t you negotiate it with him and come up with a scene plan?” “Deal.” Daniel heaved a huge sigh of relief. For a minute, he’d been scared that Rod was going to walk away from the project altogether. This near miss was the real reason the boss was smiling so much as they wandered around the city. It wasn’t just the potential lost sales which scared him but (as he now realized) even more the chance of losing two of the only real friends he had in his life. On the big night of the awards show, the entire group were dressed to the nines, and ready to walk the red carpet – a first for the younger and newer guys. The men were all in eye-popping variations on classic formal wear, not least among them Johannis and Laszlo who had both chosen white tuxedos, one with smoky grey trim and the other with brilliant sky-blue edging. Not to be outdone, Lianne and Marina (the costume coordinator, a.k.a. General of the Jockstraps) dazzled with brilliant formal evening gowns, Lianne in black and gold and Marina in dark maroon. The advance buzz all around the event was that Hawaiian Nine was going to scoop up a pile of awards. Certainly, the company and its individual models and film crew members had been nominated for just about every award that was available for the taking. Nor were the results a disappointment. The “Scene of the Year” award went to Daniel’s breeding of Rod Rammer, while Rod himself was recognized with a Special Lifetime Achievement Award. The film they’d starred in, Hawaiian Ramming, won the Best Film of the Year award, and Laszlo walked off with a Most Exciting Newcomer award – a trophy which put a broad grin on his face, and on Daniel’s face too. Privately, Daniel resolved to give Laszlo star billing in his next film after the one to be made in Sitges, an honour which he had richly earned. He also planned to use the footage of the virgin Laszlo’s first fuck and breeding as the bonus scene for that film, if and when. Off camera, the talented Will and Eddie got an Outstanding Camera Work award for the final orgy scene in the company’s previous film, Nine in the Sand. As the title indicated, the big scene was a hyper-active beach orgy, and the camera angles had taken full advantage of not only the gorgeous Hawaiian scenery but every imaginable angle on the wild action from the nine performers, in a scene that all by itself lasted for 45 minutes and totalled up to 11 breedings and 6 facials. After the show ended, everyone headed for the main ballroom of the Savoia da Catalunya hotel for the after party. At first, the company assembled all in a tight little group. Steve proposed a toast to Daniel, and after thanking him, Daniel in turn raised his glass to Laszlo. “To Arpad Nagy – a star is born.” Both toasts were drunk with loud acclaim by all of the Hawaiian Nine gang. After the group split up and began circulating, it seemed to Daniel that, in between the endless offers of canapés and champagne from the circulating waiters, he must have shaken the hands of every single person present. As he did so, he also found himself fielding an unending parade of scene suggestions, funding offers, audition requests, ideas for locations, ideas for casting, and on and on. To all of them, he answered with a smile, thanks, and a statement that he was here to relax, not to work – which, of course, was only true until they headed down to Sitges the next day. Even that departure on Sunday morning, just before noon, was a bit fraught. As Daniel mused to himself – sitting in a half-empty coach over 20 minutes after they were supposed to leave – you couldn’t very well pull the plug and leave early from an awards gala where your company had just scooped a whole bundle of significant trophies. Some things in life you just had to accept as they were. Late nights equalled late departures the next day. After about 40 minutes, and a series of querulous phone calls from Lianne, the entire company had finally showed up with baggage in hand and boarded the bus. Most of them were looking very much the worse for wear, which was the reason that Daniel hadn’t planned any shooting until the second day after the gala. Later on Monday afternoon, the crew assembled in the suite which had been rented to serve as a filming location for the shoot. Spacious and luxurious, it had a generously-sized sitting room, an equally generous bedroom with a small sitting area in a bay window, and a gigantic bathroom with a jetted tub big enough for three and a shower almost as large – plenty of possibilities, and Will and Eddie had planned out camera placements and angles for all of them. In the shower, Johannis and Miguel, the Mexican bottom, were helping each other to get ready, with plenty of soap and a scrubbing sponge, not to mention a butt plug for the tempting hole in between Miguel’s sweet, round ass cheeks. In fact, Johannis got hard enough playing with the plug that he was able to remove it and insert his cock for a minute, just to get Miguel loosened up enough for easier going on camera. Out in the bedroom, Daniel was sitting on a chair in the corner, fingers crossed and hoping like mad that his latest casting inspiration was going to pan out. He’d sensed a hint of chemistry when he’d introduced Miguel to Johannis back in Los Angeles, and he’d decided to go with it. Marina came and sat next to him. “Worried, boss?” “Just the usual nerves with a new casting combo.” “You worry too much, boss. After this is over, why don’t you come back to my room and work out your stress?” Daniel laughed. The not-quite-young trans woman had never bothered with surgery, so she still had all her male appurtenances, and a delectable ass which Daniel had enjoyed on several previous occasions. But now, he just laughed. “Nice try, Marina, but you know perfectly well that I have to hold it for my scene tomorrow morning.” She sighed but nodded. Marina had been around the company long enough to know that Daniel was fiercely proud of his epic cumshots, and she certainly understood the importance of “business before pleasure” when they were on a shoot. When Daniel came into the bathroom to announce that they were ready to go “whenever you are,” it was Miguel who switched off the water and then pulled slowly off that big Viking dick without any sign of embarrassment or self-consciousness. They towelled each other off, and then made their big entrance for the scene, Miguel walking in front with his hard tool leading the way and his towel trailing in his free hand, while Johannis followed, steering him with a hand cupping Miguel’s ass cheek, and with his towel draped around his own neck. The two guys slipped on their underwear – Johannis in bright orange briefs and Miguel in a pale blue jockstrap which contrasted beautifully with his amber skin tone. Daniel leaned over to Marina, and murmured, “Perfect colour contrast -- as always.” Johannis murmured in Miguel’s ear, “Just ignore them all and concentrate on me,” and Miguel nodded. The cameras were all running, and Eddie gave them the word. At once, Johannis pulled Miguel into him and began kissing up a storm. Miguel seemed a bit shy and confused, but soon melted into the big guy’s arms and began to moan as Johannis teased his nipples and then ran his hands down to cup and squeeze the younger guy’s ass. It was all an act, of course. Those few minutes in the shower had already taught Johannis that Miguel was a thoroughly experienced bottom. He’d really gotten that message loud and clear when he’d tried to push his way gently into Miguel, and the Mexican’s expert hole had opened right up and swallowed him to the root, then began chewing on the big guy’s cock. Johannis had opened his eyes, and exclaimed, “Well, aren’t you the horny little slut, so eager for a big cock to fill you up?” Miguel had turned a wide-eyed, angelic smile on Johannis at that moment as they’d let the water flow over them. Johannis realized instantly that the whole reluctant innocence shtick was as fake as the angelic smile. He may have looked like an inexperienced, wide-eyed kid, but Miguel was definitely a sex demon with a lot of practice under his belt (which he wasn’t wearing), and Johannis knew that he’d have a hard time not to cum too quickly and spoil the scene. Now, he let his hands play with the straps of Miguel’s jock as Miguel put one hand down and played with that big Icelandic cock inside the tight briefs. He was playing the part of the eager young learner to perfection. Watching from the sidelines, Daniel smiled smugly at how his intuition had once again scored a bulls-eye in the casting department. The rest of the scene unfolded along perfectly familiar porn-scene lines, from dropping underwear to ass and tit play with fingers, from cock-sucking to ass-eating, and from there to fucking. Johannis was loving the way Miguel was alternating with him, working harder on his cock when he slowed down his fucking motions, and just going completely passive and letting him have at it when driving it deep into him. After a good half an hour of work, with numerous positions and only a few quick pauses, Miguel had whispered into the big guy’s ear, “Missionary.” Johannis flipped him over onto his back, and Miguel pulled his smooth young legs all the way up over his shoulders. Johannis slipped right back inside that cute hole and began pounding hard. At the same time he felt Miguel’s cock getting harder and harder under his abs and knew that it was time to go for it. He barked, “Gonna cum,” as he pumped deep and hard into the young Mexican’s ass. Miguel was wailing away, lashing his head from side to side on the pillow, and Johannis suddenly realized that it wasn’t an act any more. The Mexican had given himself over to the sensations of the fuck, had forgotten all about the watching cameras and observers. Miguel had gone off into an erotic trance, losing consciousness of everything except the sensations in his ass and the massive cock plundering it. Johannis let himself go then into that same private and intimate space, submerging the outside world in a tidal wave of sexual energy as he drove himself to his climax. Then Miguel let out an especially loud cry of “Fuck!” and his hole clamped down hard as his cock lifted and erupted all over his smooth brown belly, hands-free. Johannis drove three or four more vicious strokes into the suddenly fierce tightness under him and let out a deep roar as his dick shot off like a cannon inside the Mexican’s sweet ass. And thanks to the change of position, the camera crew got it all in perfect closeup. Eddie locked in on Miguel’s cock when it exploded, and Will caught the view of Johannis, cock half out of the hole and flexing like a mad thing as it continued pumping sperm inside the tight bottom’s eager fuck chute. Will held the camera right there as Johannis finally let his cock slide gently out, and then caught the slow-motion lava flow of cum pouring out of Miguel’s ass. Miguel even knew enough to try to hold his hole open so the stream could flow without interruption. At last, Eddie called, “Okay, fellows, that’s it.” He and Will switched off their handheld cameras and then went around, turning off the tripod cameras. Daniel got up, adjusting his dick inside his underwear, and came over to congratulate his two newest stars – and then realized that the energy had completely shifted. Johannis had slid back inside Miguel, and the two of them had wrapped their arms around each other, kissing nonstop, with Johannis again sliding gently in and out. It was plain to Daniel’s sight that the scene might be over but the two men lying on the bed, twined together, were far from done. Daniel smiled, turned away, and quietly signalled to everyone else to leave the room.
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  37. Part 19 I've heard about out-of-body experiences and how great they supposedly felt according to the people who've said they've had them. But I couldn't imagine anything feeling more euphoric and exquisite than the IN-body experience I was having there on that picnic table. Every inch of my body was tingling and every nerve in my brain and mind was trying to keep up with the increasing level of pleasure coursing through my whole being. My hard bare fuckmeat was enveloped by Kevin's warm wet silky manhole over and over again as he continued fucking himself up and down on my shaft. Occasionally he would tighten the muscles in his chute squeezing and caressing my dick, causing me to leak more and more precum inside him. He kept telling me he wasn't going to stop riding me until I shot my cum deep in his guts. I only hoped he wouldn't stop before then! At the same time Ryan was long-stroking his fat hard raw cock in and out of my wide-stretched hole. With every penetration I felt his heavy balls slap against my upturned sweaty asscheeks. I couldn't wait for those balls to draw up then begin shooting their thick load deep inside me, to mix with the loads from Drew and Kevin I'd already received today. I had been a total top and a virgin to anal sex when I arrived at the park earlier today. (How long ago was that?! Who the hell cares?!!) And now I couldn't get enough cock and cum in my ass. And I couldn't get enough of burying my dick balls deep in an ass! These two studs were doing all the work – Kevin fucking himself on my dick and Ryan fucking my hole with his dick. All I had to do was lay there and enjoy the erotic sensuality of it all. And I was definitely enjoying all of it! I was jacking Kevin's hard slick cock, still amazed that I had had the entire thing stuffing my ass not that long ago. So long and so thick. It turned me on more realizing I had taken it and enjoyed it. Just like I'd enjoyed Drew's cock and was now feeling additional pleasure from Ryan's cock, which wasn't quite as long as Kevin's but it was slightly thicker. “Hell yeah man!” Kevin's voice penetrated my thoughts. “Fuck me buddy! Your raw married cock is making my ass feel so fucking good! Can't wait for you to give me your seed!” I let go of Kevin's dick and ran my fingers and hands up across his abs to his pecs and nips. This prompted Kevin to straighten his position on my dick and raise his arms above his head, flexing his pecs. As I moved my hands and eyes over his torso I caught a glimpse of a drawing of some sort just below his left armpit. I hadn't seen his body from this angle before so I hadn't noticed it earlier today. I couldn't tell for sure but it looked kind of like a small scorpion. I didn't wonder about it more than a couple seconds, but it briefly reminded me of a day a few weeks ago when I had walked into my son Jeremy's room and he had some pictures of scorpions on his computer screen. I hadn't remembered that until just now. That memory was quickly dissolved as I felt Drew's tongue licking my ear then heard him whispering in it. “How you doing Daddy Justin? Feels great having your cock in a hot ass and having your own ass filled with cock at the same time, doesn't it?” he finished with a lusty chuckle. “Fuck yeah it does! I could never have imagined anything like this! This is fucking perfect!” As if on cue, Drew pushed the glass pipe between my lips and lit the flame, creating more of the fuck smoke I couldn't resist and didn't want to resist. As I blew out a second thick white cloud I heard Ryan yell out, “I'm going to cum Daddy Justin! I'm going to flood your hot spun ass with my tina cum! Tell me you want it!” “YES!” I practically screamed in need. “Cum in me, Ryan! Give me your tina cum and breed my greedy ass! My greedy cheating married daddy ass!” I felt Ryan slam one last time against my ass and felt his seed emptying into me. That sensation took me over the edge and I cried out to Kevin, “Here it cums man! Giving you a big load of my married cum just like I gave Drew and Ryan! Take it! Take it allllll!!” And my cum shot into Kevin's ass mixing with Ryan's. (to be continued)
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  38. Chapter 3 I spent the next week thinking about Joel and the invitation from my former high school. I had called Linda back the next morning to formally accept the invitation, but Joel's voicemail kept replaying in my head. Better that than the dream, I guess. Memories of Joel occupied most of my thoughts on the drive out for Spartan Trifecta weekend. Joel and I go way back. He and I attended school together from kindergarten through graduation. K-12 all in one building. Average graduating class from the high school was about 65 people. This school was tiny. Despite the tiny size of the student body, Joel and I barely knew each other until middle school when I started working for Joel's parents. They owned one of the largest tree farms in the midwest and would hire out extra workers during peak seasons. Labor laws allowed kids as young as 13 to work in agriculture. Pretty sure those laws weren't intended for work involving axes and saws, but loopholes are loopholes. That job paid for my first summer theater camp, which eventually led to my nickname. Junior year, the camp production found me center stage, shirtless, and wearing a viking helmet. Joel had come to see me in the show. He sought me out backstage in the dressing area after the show. "You looked like some kind of viking Hercules up there, man," he said after. "Everyone in that audience is probably scarred for the rest of their lives having seen me shirtless," I countered. "Blinded, too. I'm incandescent up there with the stage lights on me." "Dude..." he started, trying to pull me to the mirror, which was comedically futile. "You really have no idea how good you looked up there, do you?" While I still had one good growth spurt left in me, at the time I was 6'4" and about 235 pounds. Work on the tree farm was very physical, so I had decent bulk to go with my height. I felt like I was more chub than muscle at this point. In contrast, Joel was about 5'5" and maybe 120 during a bulk. He kind of looked like a child trying to push his dad on the swings. I got up and let him take me over to the dressing mirror. He was right, I did look pretty damn good. While there was a little bit of pudge still to go, there was no mistaking the sheets of muscle that ran beneath. I already had a decent amount of dark auburn body hair, and I could have grown a beard if my mom didn't insist I shave every couple days. I put the helmet back on. "Viking Hercules, you say?" I asked sarcastically, a goofy grin spreading across my face. "Yeah, but that's too long. How about V-H for short?" He quipped. We both laughed. The daydream faded as I pulled my subaru into the parking lot of the compound of cabins that would be my home for the next 3 days. I got my key from the attendant and surveyed the parking lot. No one else from my training group was here yet. I threw my duffle on the end of one of the beds in my cabin and headed back out. Maybe the training course would take my mind off things. In a way, I was right. On the training course, I met Scott, future-DILF. He was average height - about 5'10", but from 6'8" everyone looks about 5'10" - and about 230 pounds of fresh-from-the-gym muscle and too much beer and pizza. He had dark blond hair and blue eyes. He stared at me on every obstacle on the training course. Especially after I took my shirt off after the dunk wall and my soaked shorts were clinging to my obscene bulge. Compression shorts my ass. After finishing the course, I doubled back toward the start of the course and met Scott as he was finishing the course. As I walked past him toward the cabins, I grabbed my bulge and nodded. He turned tail and followed me without a word. Good to know my cruising instincts still worked. I led him into my cabin. His tongue was in my mouth before I even got the door closed. He was a good kisser, but I had other goals. His hands found my bulge, rapidly hardening in my compression shorts. I pushed him to his knees and pulled the waistband of my shorts down as he went. His tongue found my balls, slightly musky from the course. His eager mouth struggled with my cock at semi-hard. This was going to be fun. He hesitated as my cock reached full hardness. I clamped a hand around the back of his head and forced my length into his throat. I could feel his throat convulse as he gagged. God I love that feeling of panic. I pulled my dick out of his throat. Tears streamed from his eyes as he coughed and tried to catch his breath. "Relax your fucking throat," I growled, shoving the length of my uncut cock back in his mouth. I felt teeth and abruptly pulled back out, clapping him on the side of his head - harder than was probably necessary, but I wanted to ensure he got the message. "And watch your teeth." We attempted a few more times, each ending with him gagging and panting for air. He was beginning to look a little unsteady on his knees. I hauled him off his knees and shoved him over onto the bed. He flopped on the bed, nearly delirious. I fished through my duffle for my poppers. I uncapped them and shoved them under his nose and watched the haze roll over his eyes. I positioned him on his back with his head hung over the bed. I took a generous hit of poppers for myself. All thoughts faded except using his holes to get off. I plunged my dick back into his throat and started fucking it in earnest. Through his popper-induced stupor, he gave no resistance and his throat stretched to welcome my girth with every thrust. Now this was more like it. I pulled out, a generous coat of spit on my cock. His initial popper fog was starting to lift. "Turn over. Ass up," I commanded. He did as he was told and I tossed the poppers to him. "You're probably going to want some more of those" I rummaged through my duffle for lube. "I'm poz. Undetectable. I don't do rubbers." I left no room for discussion. I took him reaching back to spread his cheeks as consent enough. He muttered something about PrEP. I hadn't really noticed, but he had a generous coat of dark blond fur over most of his body, including his ass and around his hole. I slathered a generous amount of lube into his hole. I took another hit of poppers. The head of my prick found his furry hole. I pressed the head of my dick into his guts without ceremony, stopping only when my head met resistance deeper in his hole. He didn't flinch from my dick. Either the poppers were really doing their job or he was a very well-worn bottom. Whichever, his hole felt great. I pressed into him until the head of my dick met resistance deeper inside. I fucked the first few inches of his guts deliberately - pressing against his second sphincter with every deep thrust. At some point he must have hit the poppers again because he pushed back into one deep thrust. The sound he made as the rest of my dick sank into him was best described as a howl. my pelvis rested comfortably against his bubble ass and he immediately began trying to come off of my cock. I grabbed his right arm and leveraged him down on the bed, pinning him; my dick still deep inside. I could feel him squirm beneath me, whimpering as his intestines struggled to make friendly with their new invader. When the squirming stopped, I resumed thrusting into him. God he had a great hole. I could feel the cum beginning to brew in my balls. Deep penetrating thrusts mixed with quicker, harder thrusts as his body was dribbled against the cheap mattress springs. His howls had long since turned into moans. I released the armbar pinning him to the bed and pulled him up to his knees. In doggy style, the rhythmic slap of our bodies joined his moans. I was nearly certain our sexual symphony could be heard by at least the neighboring cabins. I pulled out of him again and rolled him over. Throwing his legs back and exposing his furry hole. I wanted to see the look on his face as I filled him with my seed. I sank my hardness back into his guts. We both hit the poppers one more time as I took up a steady rhythm in his hole. His own cock was average, but rock hard. It pointed straight up to his belly button and pulses of precum erupted from the tip every couple strokes. As my orgasm built, I pressed him into the bed, my hand at his throat. "You ready for my load?" "Fucking breed me!" He pleaded. I began to unload in his hole. The orgasm wracked my body, ejecting rope after rope of my DNA into his core. When the spasms finally stopped, I looked down to see that Scott's furry tummy was shot through with a couple modest ropes of his own cum. I pulled out and a small torrent of my special sauce poured from his hole. "Shame you're undetectable..." he murmured. I ran my hand over my biohazard tattoo. This was a sentiment I had encountered before. In my experience, PReP guys go through phases. Phase one: "I'm still going to be safe." This involves still using condoms and barebacking with committed partners who they know are tested regularly/on PrEP. The phase ends when the guy starts barebacking with non-monogamous partners who are presumably negative/on PrEP. Phase two: "Trust the guy, trust the meds." The guy is regularly barebacking nonmongamous partners who self-report being tested and negative and/or on PrEP. This phase ends when the guy takes his first confirmed poz load. This load is nearly always undetectable. Phase three: "U=U." This is where you will find most guys on PrEP. And for good reason. This is where the current science stands. These PrEPed guys will take a load from an undetectable guy without a second thought. I can usually spot these guys a mile away out in the wild. Phase three ends when the guy misses a dose or lapses on a refill and takes a load anyway. He will decide "it's fine because he's undetectable." Alternatively, he will take a load of unknown potency because "that's what the meds are for and he's so fucking hot and I'm so fucking horny." This is how phase four begins. Phase four: a chaser is born. The guy will seek out a viral load or cease taking medication. He has gotten a taste of the risk. And risk is a drug. The high of beating the odds wears off quickly and he will take riskier and riskier actions to feel that high again. Some chase passively and just don't do anything to mitigate the risks. Reveling in their close calls after the fact. Others move on to chasing actively. For the active chasers, getting infected is the only way to feel that high again. My best guess, Scott was on his way out of phase three or was in the early stages of chasing. "I can help with that..." Scott sat bolt upright at the new voice. I glanced over to the door and smirked. The door frame was occupied by a 5'3" tank of a man, 6" cut prick in hand. Guess I get to room with with Cal this weekend.
    1 point
  39. I've had a long time fantasy of getting fucked at a crowded gay nude beach while dozens of men are wandering by, checking it out. A lot of them stop to watch, and take turns pumping my ass full of cum. Most of them use their phones to record the action.
    1 point
  40. I'll check Jomtien our when I'm there in July
    1 point
  41. I wish you were closer. There is nothing better than flip fucking with another a big dicked verse guy with just spit for lube.
    1 point
  42. I insist on bareback and if they say safe or condoms only, I’m not interested. There’s no point for me to let them fuck me if I don’t get to feel that bare cock in my ass taking that load
    1 point
  43. PART 5 Henry said I’d know where to find him again. Apparently I didn’t. The first few days after he bred me I stuck close to campus. I was jumble of emotions. Anxiety had set in quickly — how did I let myself get pozzed?!?! It wasn’t even an accident. I had begged for it. How had a trip to the store turned into my being bred by a relative stranger? And how many times had Jared been there and done that? But every time I jerked off the rest of the week, I thought about Henry’s cock spewing inside me. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I didn’t want to admit it, but I wanted it again. Friday I went looking for Henry at the bar and didn’t see him. After hanging with my friends and having some beers, I snuck off and went to Henry’s apartment, but he wasn’t there. I looked again a few times on Saturday, but no luck. I told myself I’d make him but on a condom this time. I even put one in my pocket when I went out. I was so horny, I went to the newsstand two towns over where I knew they sold old porn mags with he covers cut off. I bought a pack for a few bucks, and at the last second asked to buy a bottle of poppers. I’d never bought my own before. I had them in my pocket Saturday night when I went back to the bar, but still no Henry. It was Sunday morning and I went to shower. The dorm was pretty quiet; I didn’t hear many guys moving around, yet. They’d given everyone a single for the summer, so while the rooms on the second and third floors were all being used, there was still less than half the usual number of people. Our summer dorm was the oldest on campus, so the bathrooms and showers were older. It was more of a group shower with curtains you could pull between them, which a lot of the guys did. I had them to myself this morning, so didn’t bother pulling the curtains. I was showering when I heard the door open and saw a security guard come in. He went to the line of sinks and started washing his hands. I thought about grabbing the shower curtain and pulling it closed, but I felt like that was kinda dickish to do just because someone walked in. Guys are naked in the shower room all the time. I shampooed my hair and rinsed it out. Then I noticed the guard was still in the room, seemingly washing his face. Struck me as a bit odd. This room only had two sinks and the set of showers; the bathroom was on the other side of the wall and had a whole row of sinks. No one usually came in here just to use the sinks. I conditioned my hair and started my body wash routine — feet, calves, thighs, ass, cock and balls, abs, pecs, and finally my arms. I looked over my shoulder to see if the guard was still there — I hadn’t heard the door open or close. He was still doing something at the sink, but seemed to look in the mirror. When our eyes met, he left the shower room. I finished up my shower, wrapped the towel around my waist, and headed down the hallway back to my dorm room. I liked these quiet mornings in the dorm before breakfast. I went into my room and left the door open to circulate the summer air; the entire week had been muggy, and the dorm didn’t have A/C. I was picking out underwear when I noticed the security guard go by my door. I figured he must be headed to the stairwell. But then he went by again, slower this time. I definitely caught him looking into my room as he walked by. I got a weird tingle seeing him walk past again. Was something up? Why was security lingering on the floor and checking out my room? I dropped my towel and slipped on my underwear, tucking my junk into the pouch in the front. I was reaching for the shorts I’d left hanging on a chair when I saw the guard again. This time he was just standing in my doorway. I was startled and yelped. “Sorry,” he said. “I just wanted to check in and make sure everything was okay.” “Why? Is something up?” He stepped into my room. “Just thought I’d say hey.” He walked up to me; I felt awkward standing there in just my underwear. This was weirdly exciting but odd nonetheless. “I’m thinking we have a friend in common.” “Who’s that?” “Henry,” he said conspiratorially. He looked me up and down, not being shy about it. “You’re even hotter than he described. Athletic and ginger.” “Thanks,” was all I could think to say. I was standing there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. I started to reach for my pair of shorts again, but he put his hand on my chest to stop me. “I don’t think you need those,” he said, running his hand across my chest and down my abs. “I liked what you were wearing in the shower better.” I started breathing heavier. This surge of horniness went through me. Was this really happening?!?! One of the campus security guards was coming on to me. There was no mistaking it. “Doors open,” I said nervously, pulling away from his exploring hand. I saw my cock was getting hard in my underwear. The guard looked down at my hard bulge and grinned. He took a few steps back to the door and closed it gently. “Better now,” he said. He looked good in that uniform. Tall, strong build. He was almost a foot taller than me. He had a muscular chest beneath the tight blue uniform. His arms were nicely muscled, too. He started running his hands across my body, exploring, sizing me up. I reached out and touched his chest, feeling it through the fabric. “Like my body, ginger boy?” I nodded. “Good answer. Now get the underwear off.” I slipped the underwear down and left them on the floor. The guard didn’t waste any time reaching for my ass. He slapped it. “Nice bubble.” He slapped it again which hurt; I winced. “Now turn around. Put your hands on the desk behind you.” I turned around, facing the large window in my room that looked out of the quad. It was still quiet out there. I felt him spread my ass apart, probing at my hole. “That’s a sweet ginger hole. I’m gonna put that to good use.” He stood up and pushed the crotch of his uniform against my ass. The good boy in me panicked. “Be sure to use a condom,” I said. “There’s some there on the table.” “You put it on me when we’re ready for it,” he said. I heard him undoing his belt buckle and unzip. I leaned over and picked up the condom and put it next to me on the desk. He stepped over to the table I had pushed up next to the bunk bed as a nightstand. He picked up the lube and squirted it into one hand. I could see his cock standing straight out of his uniform pants. It was thick! He started to massage my hole using the lube, working it into my hole. “I like a tight hole,” he said. He took my hand and wrapped it around the shaft of his cock. I could feel the heat of his skin, and even smell the musk. What was happening?! Ten minutes ago I was in the shower. Alone. Now I’m about to get fucked in my dorm room! The good boy in me said we should say no and put an end to it. But he was out voted — my hole was totally turned on, and it was now in charge. I pushed my ass back against his hand. “Hungry are we?” He said. “Get up on the desk, lay back. Hang your ass over the edge.” I turned around and sat on the edge of the desk. I laid back, adjusting my ass so it was at the edge. He lifted my legs and slapped his hardon against my hole. He rested the bottle of poppers I’d bought yesterday on my chest. “Popper up.” I unscrewed the bottle and held it to one nostril, inhaling deeply. I started to feel a growing buzz as I moved the bottle to the opposite nostril. I was transfixed on the guard slathering lube onto his cock. “Lay back, legs up. Show me that ginger hole.” I leaned back onto the desk and lifted my legs, my ass hanging off the end of the desk. He pressed his hands behind my knees, forcing my legs wider and really exposing my ass. The poppers washed over me. My heart started racing and there was a moment where the room seemed to go darker. That craving for cock came with it again, and I started flexing my hole for him. “That’s it,” he growled. “That’s what I wanna see.” He started teasing my hold with the head of his thick cock. He picked up the lube and dribbled more onto my hole, then spread it with his cock. I could feel the heat coming off the bare head. Something about a condom crossed the back of my head. The voice was a distant whisper that was overwhelmed by the craving I was feeling. “Fuck me,” I said quietly. “What was that, ginger boy?” “Fuck me,” I said more firmly. The guard pushed his cock against my hole, prying it open with the force. I felt the muscles give way and his thickness started to fill me. I winced and then gasped with the thickness stretching my hold. The opened condom went ignored on the desk beside me. “Fuuuuck…. That’s a tight ginger hole. “Gonna have to stretch you out to really enjoy this.” My mind was swirling. I was in my dorm room, naked on the desk, with someone whose name I don’t even know burying his cock inside me. If anyone in the rooms across the quad from mine looked out their windows, they’d be able to see me getting fucked. “People can see in the windows,” I gasped. “Good. Maybe they’ll want some of this, too.” He thrust all the way in til his balls were pressed against my ass. I groaned with the intense penetration. “College guys can’t get enough of this cock.” He started pounding away at my ass. I was moaning, probably louder than I should have in the dorm.People would be waking up and hear me, but I couldn’t control it. I felt totally drunk on his cock. I felt amazing! He could see it in my face. “You love this cock, don’t you, ginger boy?” “Fuck yeah!” He grinned a wicked grin. “Oops. Someone forgot to put the condom on me. Guess I know what you really want this morning.” The fucking was relentless. He took my ass in an aggressive series of thrusts. I groaned as he pummeled me. It was a wild mix of pleasure and pain. I fumbled for the poppers and awkwardly took another hit, hoping it would soften the roughness of the fuck. “Don’t worry. I’m almost there…..” he said. Those words sent a thrill through me. I grabbed my own cock and began jacking it. The guard had a wicked look on his face. “Fuck yeah. You want this gift. I knew you did. Knew it as soon as I saw you showing off in the shower. Knew you’d want to get pozzed again. Fucking slut.” He spat on me. I was totally fixated on him, on the relentless fucking I was taking. He was going to breed me. The good boy voice in the back of my head screamed again, but the rest of me wanted it. “Fuck yeah!” He said loudly. “Fuck yeah! I’m cumming! I’M CUMMING!!” A part of me knew everyone had just heard that. Some strange guy’s voice was coming from my room declaring his dominance over me. He came with a rush, his body shaking as his cock pulsed. He unleashed his load inside me, electrifying me. Instead of burying his load deep, he just kept pumping it into me. There was nothing I could do except take it from him. My own cock burst, spewing jizz across my chest and even hitting my face. My body spasmed. The guard pulled out, letting my legs just dangle off the desk. They didn’t quite fall to the floor — my muscles were too worked up and activated to relax. Instead I just held myself there, body spasming from the exertion, covered in my own jizz. He came over and pushed his cock into my face. “Clean it off,” he commanded. I didn’t have a choice as he roughly pushed his cum slicked cock into my mouth. “Taste your ginger ass on there, boy. Taste some of the cum I left inside you. Clean it off real good so I can go back to work.” When he was satisfied, he put himself together again, tucking his cock inside his pants. He’d never undressed, just pulled out his cock. The uniform clearly didn’t interfere with his fucking the hell oughta me. “You’re gonna need another shower,” he said, lightly slapping my tight abs. He ran his hands over my smooth torso. “Hot body. I’m gonna enjoy using it.” He walked to the door, leaving me laying on my desk. “Have a good one, bud.” And walked out, leaving the door open as he walked down the hallway. [What is going to become of our newest cumdump college boy, Justin? I suspect there’s more ahead for him! If you enjoyed this chapter, let me know. A blue heart (or a 🐷) is always appreciated — a simple form of feedback inspires me. Thanks!]
    1 point
  44. Well , Dad and Mom were liberals - free - not shy showing off their bodies - affectionate in public - Dad took pleasure teaching me about bodies - respect them - I was born hung and uncut like my dad - teaching me - having fun .. My Uncle and Cousin introduced me to Drinking - Smoking weed and becoming more used to naked males - dicks - dick fest a few times - No Refusal !
    1 point
  45. Sure yes I kiss. Love to kiss but if the other guy isn't into it then I won't force it. Tend to find that married/supposedly straight men are more reluctant to kiss.
    1 point
  46. Skys are clear, but its dark and cloudy here...
    1 point
  47. After deep seeding a guy's pussy, I like taking him out to a bar for a few beers knowing he is having some leakage that is keeping his hole wet. It just makes him want to be re-seeded over and over. And when other guys in the bar know he is sperm lubed it makes it easier to arrange a group breeding.
    1 point
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