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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. 🐷🍆💪🏻

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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. ***

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.

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.

I ended up in hospital from rimming! Got HIV2 and 1 badly. It hasn’t stopped me rimming though.

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

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.

Totally agree with badjujuboy it’s part of the intensity and experience 🐷

You can bet your bottom dollar that Ryan texted Drew about it too.

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.

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.

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.

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.

l realize that not many faggots have been as lucky as me in being trained by an uncle or actually getting to suck your biological fathers cock, or the holy grail of getting fucked and bred by him. but I do know that most sub cumdumps like me have sucked off brothers, uncles, and cousins and getting fucked by them. so I wanna know how many of you fucksluts have sucked off your uncle or cousin or brothers and taken their loads down your throat? how many of you has gotten down on their hands and knees and been fucked up the ass bareback and cum inside by your brother, uncle or cousin like I have? once or twice or regularly? my total is 8 relatives who have blown their load into my throat. most of those have blown their load in my ass including over a thousand loads from the uncle who trained me to be a shameless pussyboy cumdumpster, take loads in public, be a bathhouse cumhole, get whored out and most importantly, always be willing to take anyones load.

I used to wake up with a boner every morning once I turned nine, and soon learned that it felt really good when I rubbed it, but I didn't ejaculate cum until I was thirteen. Once I knew how good it felt I jacked off every time I thought I had even a little bit of privacy. Thing was I went to a boys only boarding school and I got caught rubbing one out often, but I just couldn't help myself. Odd thing was there were no attractive women in the school so, being as sheltered as I was, I couldn't understand why I was always horny. When I went home on school holidays I shared a room with my brother and since he went to bed an hour before I did, I didn't bother to try and hide what I was doing, so it didn't surprise me when he asked what I was doing, and then asked to see me cum. It never went any further than that though. It was a new friend I met during my first year in college who truly awakened my sexuality. One night we had been at a concert with a Rolling Stones cover band playing. Afterwards he invited me to sleep over instead of walking home because his bedroom was actually a suite on the second floor of a detached garage, so there was no way to disturb his parents, and I happily accepted. We were both totally wasted so stripping naked and getting into his bed with him naked too didn't seem at all odd. The bed was a queen size with plenty of room so it wasn't like we would roll into each other, right? I just fell asleep without a worry in the world. What woke me up is what really awakened my sexuality. I was dreaming that I was getting closer and closer to cumming until I was woken by the feeling that I was going to cum, and in the few seconds before I did cum I realized that my friend was sucking my cock as well as that it felt so good I didn't want it to stop. I just lay there not making a sound while his head bobbed up and down until I reached the point of no return, when I let out a loud groan and started pumping cum into his mouth.

Get the PA. You'll look back after getting it and wish you'd gotting it sooner

You'll be able to get to a 4g. Just get used to the 6g first and let your cock adapt. I went from an 8g to a 4g in 4 months (but everyone adapts differently to their PA, so I'm more of an exception than the norm).

I always insist on a guy easing himself on my cock and slowly let his gash open up to take my pierced cock. On the flip side I've had bottoms slam their dry kunt down on my pierced cock and I'd pray for that hole to self lubricate.

Yeah. I have thr next chapter started. Work got unexpectedly crazy on me and I started another story. But the next part IS coming.

I was at a bath house the other day,, and a guy I was sucking didn't want to cum in my mouth. Huge beautiful penis, big sperm filled balls, I so badly wanted his cum. Turns out however that he wanted to cum in my ass, so I got him hard in my mouth, nearly to cumming, and he merely put it in my asshole and came within maybe twenty seconds. Then he pulled out and put it in my mouth again, so I did at least get a taste of his very hot,, thick, and salty sperm, which was every bit as delicious as I'd thought. Plus, cum up my ass. And as a bonus, he peed in my mouth after, and I got to drink a lot of his piss.

I'm home visiting my family and I knew that this place was pretty dry ( I grew up there after all). When I arrived I was pretty excited that Grindr and Sniffles were pretty active. Well after a few days and a bunch of flakes, nada. Well being my last night here, I tried again and boy did I got the jackpot. Good looking guy, late 30s, a nice thick 8" cock. He invited me over and greeted me at the door smoking a cigarette. He gestured me to the back and had a porn going. He encouraged me to get comfortable. We both stripped down and he was already almost hard. He asked me if I wanted to get on the bed or if I wanted to suck his dick which I did. Dude was leaking precum like crazy and it wasn't long till he passed me some poppers which let me swallow it all down. A few minutes of this and he directed me to the bed, on my knees and with a quick swipe of line he pushed into the hilt. The first load probably only lasted fifteen minutes but it was intense. We chilled for a few afterwards. Round two starts on his chair with me bouncing up and down until back to bed where he had me folded up like a cheap lawn chair for about thirty minutes until he blew a second load in me. Excellent and we are going to meet up tomorrow for a final load before I head back home.

I think some men find shooting in someone's mouth too intense. (I did ask a man who repeatedly let me suck him but would not cum in my mouth.) They are used to how their hand feels so they use it. It is no different from men who pull out of an ass and use their hand to get off. I pity them.

My town always holds its 4th of July fireworks on July 3rd to avoid competing with several nearby cities and towns that hold their displays on the 4th. The fireworks are set off from a barge in the middle of the river, a good distance from land and anything flammable. There's a perfect spot at the top of a hill where a parking lot overlooks the river. People arrive hours early and back their trucks and SUVs into the spaces so they can tailgate while they watch the festivities. Being single, I was there at the invitation of some friends who like to include me in their family outings. Knowing the popularity of this lot, the town places a few port-a-johns along one side to give people a place to relieve themselves. About a half-hour before the show started (and after three beers), I felt the need, so I excused myself from my friends and headed in that direction. I was waiting my turn in line when two guys walked past. One appeared to be around my age, tall and slender with a goatee, while the other looked a decade younger. He had a stouter, more solid build and was bald, also with a goatee. Both were shirtless in the humid night air. As they approached I spied a scorpion tattoo on the older one's lower abdomen, which made me curious. I perhaps stared too long because he noticed me, and greeted me with a smile. "Hey, waiting to go?" I nodded silently, embarrassed that he had caught me looking. He motioned to the younger one. In a low voice so no one in line would overhear, he said, "I have a toilet right here if you'd rather use it." His directness took me by complete surprise. Now, I am an insatiable sex fiend and love all aspects of pleasure. I had been introduced to pig play at an early age by an older man I met and played with throughout college, and loved to listen as a guy struggled to swallow my stream, then to feel his lips and tongue working to extract his creamy reward for a job well done. It had been ages since I had played in this kind of scene, and I was so instantly turned on that I finally found the words: "Lead the way!" The two grinned and led me to a glade of trees behind the outhouses. Glancing about furtively, we made sure no one was watching as we disappeared into the dark. About thirty feet in, they stopped and the younger one dropped to his knees. Without saying a word, I unzipped my pants and he took my cock deep into his throat. I was stiffening up and it required all my concentration to get things going. As I did, the older guy caressed my ass. As his partner choked and gagged and tried not to spill anything I was feeding him, he spit on his finger and slid it gracefully into my asshole. "I'm not cleaned out," I cautioned him. I was, after all, simply out to see some fireworks with friends. He shrugged in response. "I don't care." He worked his finger all the way in, then slid it out again, fucking my hole. It felt amazing, and my hole relaxed to accommodate him. Feeling my pucker loosen, he withdrew his finger, spit again, and slid two inside me as my bladder finally emptied and younger partner stood. "You bottom raw?" the older guy asked. I momentarily considered his tattoo. He knew I had seen it, and I assumed he had guessed that I knew its meaning. He was poz, and in all likelihood not on medication. Then his partner dropped his pants in front of me to reveal a thick, veiny eight-inch cock. A drop of precum on the tip glistened in the moonlight. I felt the lust rise within me. I had to have it! I threw caution to the wind. I had taken literally hundreds of cocks in my lifetime and had never converted, but deep down I always knew it was only a matter of time. It seemed to me that this might just be the time. "Fuck yes," I replied, and bent over at the waist to make myself more available. He took the hint and dropped to his knees behind me, spitting and licking and driving his tongue into my hole to get it ready. His partner, meanwhile, grabbed the back of my head and shoved his massive cock in my face. As I opened my mouth, I spotted a small biohazard tattoo on his shaved pubic area. Lost in lust, I engulfed his entire cock with my mouth, letting it slide down my throat until I could tickle his balls with my tongue. He began rhythmically fucking my throat as his partner stood up. I heard him spit into his hand, then felt a pressure on my sphincter. He had lubed it well; it opened to accommodate him without complaint. He wasn't as girthy as the younger guy, and he easily slid in to the hilt. In my wildest fantasies I could never have imagined getting spit-roasted by two guys I had just met - and poz guys at that! And at a fireworks display? Yet there I was, in the woods with not one but two guys having their way with me. The older guy had grabbed my hips and began pounding hard. "I'm gonna flood that hole with toxic cum," he stated matter-of-factly. "You ready to get knocked up?" I struggled to nod my head in the affirmative with an eight-inch cock buried in my throat. I gurgled a response that I hoped sounded like a 'yes'. That was enough. His hips bucked and shook, and I felt him unleashing his load deep inside me. "Gaaaaa," was all he could manage. He paused briefly to catch his breath before slipping out of my ass. "Come here," he ordered his partner. "Clean me off." The younger guy did as he was told, sucking his partner's cock as though he was a Hoover vacuum. In no time he had erased all evidence that the older guy's cock had been in my hole. Then he stood and turned in my direction. "My turn," he said with a grin. "And my viral load is even higher than his." My breath momentarily caught in my chest at the comment. For a second I felt the urge to pull up my pants and get out of there while I still only had one poz load inside me. Before I could move, however, he had grabbed me by the hips and positioned the tip of that massive cock at my now-gaping hole. Then, without adding any more spit to ease his entry, he rammed his entire length into me with one thrust. I yelped at the sudden invasion and attempted to step away from the assault, but the force of his thrust had knocked me off balance and I fell to the ground. He fell, too, his huge venomous snake still deep inside me. Without losing a beat he began relentlessly pounding me. My poor asshole spasmed around his massive shaft as he rammed it balls-deep over and over. "Damn," said the older guy, who was now dressed and watching his partner destroying my hole. "I think I see some blood. You're definitely getting pregnant!" How he could tell if I was bleeding was beyond me, but given the intensity of his partner's fucking it was probably a safe bet. "This ass is amazing," grunted the younger guy. "I'm gonna cum soon." I gritted my teeth. Never before had I experienced a fuck this rough. My hole had always been able to relax and acclimate to the cock, no matter the size. Not this time. At last he reached climax. The ordeal was almost over. He didn't make a sound, just went rigid on top of me. I could feel the telltale pulses as he shot his toxic load into my guts. As the pulses subsided his body relaxed, and he let out a sigh. "I probably made a mess," he said with a chuckle. "Let me clean you up." He slipped out of my abused asshole and slid down my body until his face was level with my ass. He licked gently, cleaning my sore pucker so I could return to my friends. "There," he pronounced. "All clean." He stood and dressed, and the two of them quickly disappeared in the direction of the parking lot. I struggled to stand and, once on my feet, had to steady myself against a tree for a moment before I could pull up my pants. My chest and the front of my legs were covered in leaves and other debris from the ground. I brushed it off as best I could, then made my way back to the parking lot just as the first of the fireworks exploded in the sky overhead. Gingerly, I walked back to where my friends were waiting. They were so fixated on the show that I wasn't sure if they noticed I had returned, and even once they did no one ever remarked on my extended absence. Too sore to sit, I stood and watched the rest of the fireworks display. More than once I felt the cum dripping from my still-gaping hole and found myself hoping that it wasn't leaving a telltale mark on the back of my pants. But I made it through, and they dropped me off shortly after the show ended. Once inside my place I flopped on my bed, still dressed, and fell asleep with at least some of their toxic cum still brewing deep in my ass.

This is fucking incredible . Please do not stop. Every bit of this is making me cum gallons

I turned off only during the first wave (2020.03-06.). Since then I have been having sex without interruption (except when I had to because of my STDs). Of course for more than a year the only option for wex was hookups. I had some regular fbs and I fucked with them during the lockdowns

Sometimes a long multi part story can be hard to keep up with. Sometimes a one out story just makes you hard. Lol

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

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.

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.

I love taking loads in public, the more public the better and some of my fave places to get fucked are in alleys behind a dumpster, in public restroom stalls, or even better when men pull my naked ass out of the stall and fuck me right out in the open in front of the sinks, or getting gangbanged out in the wide open in parks, where the men will fuck me doggystyle on the ground in the dirt, or bent over a picnic table or get my naked ass up on the table on my back with my legs spread. I have even been fucked at the side of the road right downtown. I would love to be a public gangbang fucktoy, set up on a fuckbench right in front of the mall in Dundas square during Pride or somewhere busier with a sign that says FREE USE CUMDUMPSTER beside me and NO CONDOMS written on my back. men could leave tips in a bucket and loads in my sloppy pussy, with a bucket underneath to collect all the cum that drips out of me to pour back into me using a funnel. getting fucked by guys of all ages, races, looks, sizes, taking dozens and dozens of loads while I’m blindfolded and naked, being thoroughly used in the most public way, with tourists taking videos and pictures to post all over the internet and taking their turns using me. all while my father stands there watching, while my boyfriend sucks his big meaty cock, to get him ready to blow his load inside me when everyone else is finished using me.

On the altar of a church.

It may sound cliché, but in a crowded bathhouse, in an open play area with an audience. I've had fun in the bathhouse in my area before but it's never really crowded enough to be on the "fantasy" level of fun. I'd love to have a slutty little bottom ass up in the middle of a room and I walk up and just slide in him. An audience gathers as I fuck his hole, encouraging me to pound harder and him to take it deeper. The horny men in the crowd rub on us, they caress my ass and down my crack as I'm thrusting, pulling on my balls and putting their fingers around the bottoms hole and my shaft as it slides in and out. I tell them I'm getting close and they get more verbal about me cumming in his hole. I let out one last grunt as I go balls deep and unload. As I'm breeding my bottom, one of the other men starts licking my balls. As I pull out, I immediately insert my hard, wet dick into his waiting mouth. He sucks me clean while fingering the freshly loaded hole I left gaping and cum filled, tasting his fingers at the same time. When I'm cleaned and drained, I head off to rest and recover to get horny again for the next open hole I come across!

My fantasy PLACE to fuck would be at a HUGE gathering, where anyone can see, and join in. I'm strapped into a sling, getting booty bumps and slams, for all to see, and taking all kinds of guys, at both ends, from the hottest, masculine, well-hung men, to trolls that most sluts wont even look at, from old men and young men, trans-women, from feminine men, and women using HUMUNGOUS strap-ons, around the clock, kept spun at all times, till my ass is a gaping, cum-filled mess, covered in cum and piss, with strangers looking at me, shaking their heads in disgust, and/or hidden desire, spitting on me, calling me names, and taking pics and videos, and posting them up online for all to see. Have this go on for 2-3 days/nights, until everyone is worn out. Left there, on the street, released from my bonds, but unwilling to get out of the sling, hoping for that one last load... Then, taken to a huge catholic church, where the priest lays me on the altar, and felches the cum out of my asscunt, and licks me clean.

I'll check Jomtien our when I'm there in July

It boggles my mind that there's a question of choice here. There is no choice. Swallowing is the choice. Good cocksuckers know to swallow because it's part of the job and their reward for the hard work. I know if you're going down on me and it's good you don't have other options. It's a matter of survival. When I'm forcing your head further down and unload between skull fucking sadistic thrusts, it's a question of how badly you want to breathe. Swallow and take every last drop or drown and swirl out while I finish off anyway? 🧐 🤔 😈

I started when I met up with a guy at his hotel. We started fucking with a condom but he pulled it off and immediately plunged back in and came as I asked him what he was doing. He kept fucking and the feeling of that slippery cum covered cock sliding in and out got me hooked instantly. I let him put another load in me then went back home to my wife. I’ve insisted on no condoms ever since.

PART 2 It wasn’t a long walk to his place. The sweat was dripping off me in the heat, and I was feeling a bit light headed between the heat and beers. I was relieved when we got to his place, climbing the steps to the third floor apartment in the old house. “I hope you have A/C,” I said. “I hope you like fans.” It was a small, older apartment. We walked in through the small kitchen. There was an old stove, and a table with two chairs. I noted there were some medication bottles sitting on the table. I could see part of the couch through the doorway into the living room. The air was pretty thick and stuffy. Henry went and turned on a couple fans while I just stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living rooms. Henry disappeared into the bedroom; I could hear a fan click on and some rustling. He came back out naked, his hefty cock semi-hard and swinging as he walked. “It’s a lot cooler without clothes.” I still only had my shorts on, and he got those off of me quickly. My eyes were fixed on his cock, which was getting harder by the second. I wrapped my hand beneath it, feeling the weight. It was growing longer, moderately thick at the base and tapering to a narrower head. “It’s good for working its way into tight spaces,” he grinned. I thought he would start playing with my cock, which had become totally hard on its own; instead, he reached back and ran his hand down the small of my back and between my ass cheeks. The sweat rolling down my back had slicked the route he followed down to my hole. I gasped as he pressed a finger right into my hole. It was rough and shocking, but sent this electrical jolt up into my body. “Seems college boys like their holes played with,” he grinned, then leaned in and started making out with me. His fingers kept massaging around my hole while one slipped in and out. The sweat wasn’t enough to make it slippery inside, but there was something hot about being roughly fingered — standing naked in this guy’s darkened living room. I groaned as he manhandled my ass for a couple minutes. Finally he reached up, wrapped his other hand around my head, and pushed me down toward his cock. “You have work to do before you earn my cock in that ass of yours.” I dropped to my knees in front of him, wearing only my flip flops. I love sucking dick, and I couldn’t resist getting to work on it. The shaft was already long and stiff, and it took me several attempts to ease it into the back of my throat. I gagged a bit as I tried to negotiate it deeper. Henry moaned softly. “That’s it, college boy. Deep throat that cock.” He rested on hand on the back of my head, coaxing me but not forcing. He was letting me do the work while he reaped the rewards of my cock worshipping. I was getting more turned on as I worked his cock, feeling the semi-hardon become rock solid in my mouth. It was hard to swallow the entire length, but I took a couple breaths, relaxed my throat, and slowly engulfed the whole shaft. Henry still didn’t push me.. I nuzzled my nose into his pubic hair, inhaling the scent of sweat and musk. My cock flexed with excitement. “Talented boy,” he said softly, almost reverently. He stroked my hair, still not pushing. I slowly backed off his engorged cock and looked up. There was pride on my face followed by a bit of a goofy grin as he sighed in pleasure. Without being asked, I descended onto his cock again, letting it slide past my tonsils and into my throat. Holding it there a moment, unable to do anything more. I felt saliva pooling and started to choke, so I pulled off quickly. “Get up on the couch, turn around so your ass is facing me. I want to eat that ass.” I knelt on the couch, my legs spread and chest against the back cushions. It felt hot offering up my ass that way, him kneeling behind me on the floor at the edge of the couch. I felt his hands massaging my ass; despite the heat in the apartment, his hands felt cool against my skin, and he started to gently blow on my hole. The sensation sent tingles through me again. I whimpered softly as he tantalized my hole. No one had ever played with it like this. Suddenly I felt a hot, wet sensation glazing my hole. I moaned, “ Fuck … that’s amazing….” “Like your ass eaten, do you?” He returned his tongue to my hungry hole. My body squirmed a little, the sensations coursing through me were so intense. He slapped my ass, shocking me and I yelped. “Look at this college boy!” He spread my ass apart and dove deeper into my hole with his tongue. His thumbs massaging the muscle surrounding my hole while his tongue probed me. “Oh fuck….” I whispered, overcome with the sensations. I’d never had my ass played with like this before. “Look at that…” he said as my ass convulsed, my hole naturally pulsing for him to see. “Someone’s ass is begging to be bred. Is that what it wants, college boy?” The word ‘bred’ struck me as odd on some level. I expected to hear ‘you wanna get fucked’ since my other hookups had said it. But he seemed to mean something else. A voice inside me wanted to ask about it, but it was last in intense sensations the assplay was bringing. “This ass is beautiful. Your hole is so pink. And so fucking tight, It doesn’t get used much, does it, college boy?” “No,” I said, suddenly feeling embarrassed and inexperienced. Did he think I was bad at this? Was Jared better at bottoming. I hadn’t bottomed much, and it had usually felt very clunky. Henry was doing it very different, and my ass felt amazing. Suddenly I was afraid he would stop. I turned to try and look behind me. He was still kneeling at the edge of the couch. His cock was standing straight up, even without him touching it. Deep down I felt a primal urge — a desperate need for that cock. “I want to get bred,” I said quickly, mimicking the word he’d used earlier. His face split with an intense grin, and his cock bounced up and down, twitching with excitement. “Do you now? I’m gonna make that happen for you. But first we need to loosen up that hole. He stood up, his long cock pointing straight out toward my ass. I thought he was going to start fucking me then, which made me tense with anxiety. “Stay right there,” he said, and instead of fucking me he disappeared into the bedroom. I felt awkward and strange, kneeling on the couch with my ass sticking out. I’d been fucked on all fours a couple times, but this felt very different. Kneeling here, my ass exposed, waiting ….. I couldn’t hear much over the whirring fans in both rooms. A minute later he returned with some small objects in each hand, but I didn’t recognize them right away. “FUCK!” He growled, “That is one hot ass!” His comment made me feel even more awkward; no one had ever talked like this before …. Talking at me, rather than with me. I felt more like an object than a partner. He knelt down behind me again, setting the objects down out of my eye sight. There heard a series of quick, short squeaks, then a smooth, cool liquid was being spread on pink my hole. His other hand reached under me and began glazing my hardon with the same liquid. My head snapped backward and I moaned. “That’s it, college boy. Just enjoy it. I’m gonna make you feel sooooo good. You’re gonna give me this ass, and I’m gonna give you something special in return.” His fingers began to probe my hole again. It was different than the rough fingering before; the lube he was spreading inside me made the prowling smooth. He worked his fingers deeper into me than he’d been so far. I felt the sharp pain of my hole being stretched, and I think I grimaced. “You’re fine,” he said calmly into my ear. “Just relax. Relax those muscles, college boy. It’s time to give in to the gift.” “Yes, sir” I moaned, suddenly thinking of the line I’d heard in a few porn videos. I’d never said it before during sex, but it seemed somehow right in the moment. The intense feelings were overwhelming, and I pushed my own face into the rough fabric of the couch. I couldn’t help but groan and his fingers probed me deeper, stretching my hole, all while he massaged my cock. “You’re gonna make me cum,” I begged. “Oh, that’s a long ways off, college boy. You have to satisfy my cock before you get to cum.” His fingers left my hole and I gasped at the relief. My heart was pounding and I was breathing heavy. The mix of the beers, muggy heat, and intense pleasure left my muscles feeling drained and weak all of a sudden. I kind of slumped over on the couch, needing to stretch my leg muscles. He grinned at me as I rolled onto my back. He pulled me forward a bit, so my ass what at the edge of the cushion. It was an awkward position because my upper body was half folded on itself, my lower back against the seat cushion, while my shoulders were pressed upright against the back of the couch. He was doing something out of sight beneath me, his eyes toward the floor. Then he looked up at my hole and pressed something cool and firm inside me. I winced, but he didn’t stop. There was a wired buzzing sound, and a vibration starting pulsing through my ass and up into my body. It was such a foreign feeling and I didn’t know what to make of it. “This’ll finish loosening you up, college boy.” He stood up, hovering over me. My body was oddly splayed on the couch, and I felt both awkward and powerless in the moment. My face was contorted with the mix of pleasure of weirdness pulsing inside me, my warms out to the sides, and my legs half holding themselves in the air. “You’re fucking hot,” he said. “I love seeing a college boy like this.” He reached down, grabbed my arm, and pulled me to a standing position.My legs felt wobbly, and my balance was off. He pulled me tight against him for stability, then kissed me deeply. He looked me in the eye. “I can see how confused you are. You want this so badly, but part of you is afraid because you’ve never let go like this. And you aren’t sure what is coming next, but deep down you know what is coming next and you really, REALLY want it. You’ve been told all these years you’re not supposed to want this. You’re supposed to play safe like a good, clean college boy. But the fact is you are a dirty slut and desperately want what you’re not supposed to have.” He looked at me intensely. “Isn’t that right, college boy? You want this?” I was silent. Conflicted. Everything he’d said was true. I wasn’t supposed to want this. I should grab my clothes and go. I was afraid because this guy was going to break all the rules. That’s what Jared had tried to tell me but couldn’t — Henry broke all the rules. He’d used Jared, broken his rules, and now he was going to do the same to me. The good boy in me wanted to run, but I was powerless to because I desperately wanted this. “Let’s get you into the bedroom where we have more room.” [If you’re enjoying the story, let me know. You can simply click the blue heart to keep inspiring the story.]

Reading most of these responses makes me think that I'm a true freak on here. No one "owns" me, and I have no desire to "own" anyone when I do top. Being fucked feels great. It is the top's responsibility to make me feel good. It is my responsibility to make the top feelgood. In no way do I feel it is a one way street, when fucking. If he is hurting me, he "WILL" stop. And, I don't want to hurt someone for my pleasure. I consider him to be nothing less than a selfish prick if he doesn't care about my wel being. I am a human, not a worthless animal for someone else's pleasure. If no one agrees with me, so be it.

I have known a number of guys who sucked their dad's cock as a teenager. And the boy was the one who seduced the dad. For some it happened only once and for others it was on a regular basis.

In Orlando - Hanks Bar & Bar Code. Both have outdoor play areas where about anything goes. I have been to Hanks a number of time with a very hot bottom boy that everyone wanted to fuck. He is also a take any load bottom. Guys bend him over and dump loads in him. He sucks everyone's cock and drinks any piss offered to him. One night at Hanks he had collected about 6 loads when another very hot young guy sitting in a lawn chair bent him over and slurped up all of the sperm babies dripping from his pussy. Hanks usually gets a good sized piggish crowd. The last time I was in Orlando, Bar Code was relatively new. It had a larger outdoor area but was a lot less crowded than Hanks. I haven't been to Orlando for quite awhile so I don't know what it is like now. The two bars are about a 5 minute drive from each other and not close to Parliament House which I hate. Went there once and never went back.

I think a lot of guys get scared at how much they are addicted to cock and cum. Their need to be breed is innate and is on their mines almost every second of every day. I don't think you can turn to a fetish to curb your need to be bred as you will never stop needing cock and cum in your ass. The easier said than done solution is to find a top BF with a big fat cock who will shoot double digit spurts of sperm in you - especially after you have been pre-lubed with multiple loads. A true top will understand your addiction. Don't give up on having a cum dump bottom as a BF. I have known and bred quite a few couples who both total bottoms. Most of them have stayed together longer than most other couples and have an intimacy that few share. There is a freedom in admitting to each other their shared desires and lots of ways to play together - toys and tongue fucking each other while talking about how much you both want cock and cum - you'll soon be fucking and breeding each other. I bred one such couple on a regular basis for a long time. They had a ton of fun going out together and trying to find a guy to do them side by side, or challenging each other to see who could get the most loads and then coming home with both of their asses cum lubed and sharing with each other the details of the cocks they took. And they fucking loved playing with each other's sperm dripping holes. None of what I said might appeal to you. Just be honest with yourself and find a way to be yourself within the parameters you have set.

You got it. It's all about your top taking your masculinity and making you his true pussy bitch.