Leaderboard

Chapter 2 – Now we get down to it In Chapter 1, I told how I met up with Daniel, who worked at a nearby factory that was under construction. He invited me over one evening, and we partied and fucked around, but had to end early since we had to work the next day. True to his word, Daniel texted me to see if I wanted to come over again on Saturday. He told me that the sling was still on the porch and that we could play out there all night. Of course, I agreed to come over. We discussed a few limits but understood this would be a night of serious debauchery. I decided to smoke a little before I got to Daniel’s place on Saturday evening. I also brought my own supply and some beverages to keep us well-hydrated. It was warm and humid out, so it was likely that we’d be sweating a lot. Knowing that his place was private, I left my clothes in the car when I got there, just bringing along the essentials. Daniel chuckled when he saw me coming since he was only wearing a harness that included a cock ring around his thick package. Seems like we both had the same ideas about how the night would progress. We went out on the porch and sat in the chairs to get the party started. Daniel was happy that I’d brought some of my own stuff but had already prepared the water pipe for us. We lit up, and each took a few good hits. Combined with the fact that I smoked a bit earlier, I was well spun. This time, Daniel had made some more preparations. There was a table next to the sling with a few butt plugs and other toys, lube, poppers, and paper towels. He helped me get in the sling and get my feet into the stirrups. It felt amazing to be exposed like this in the great outdoors with the sound of the river and the forest all around us. Daniel pulled up a small chair and sat in front of my willing hole. I let it pulse open and closed a few times to let him know how ready I was for the night. A hot, hairy, well-built stud wanted to use my ass, so there was no way I was turning down that offer. Daniel sat there for a while, sort of aimlessly feeling up my ass, balls and cock. From my spot in the sling, I couldn’t reach his body, so I focused on the sensation of being fondled by him. He got up, got the pipe again, and packed a new bowl for us. He walked over, took a deep hit, and shot-gunned it to me while his tongue explored my mouth. We spent some time smoking and making out, with me able to caress his body. I especially liked fingering around his taint and his hairy hole while licking his cock. He moved back to the chair, and I reached down to open my ass up for him. He moaned first and then dove his mouth onto my hole. He really knows how to eat an ass. He’d lick around my hole, probe it with his tongue, move his mouth to my ass or cock, finger my hole, then go back to it and start probing it again. I love it when a guy gets his tongue deep in my hole, and he was doing a great job. Then, Daniel stood up and reached for the lube. He lubed up his cock and took some time applying lube to my ass, both inside and out. Since there were two bottles of poppers, we each grabbed one, took a few hits, and then he sank his cock into my ass. We were both eager for this to happen, so he started with a soft in-and-out action, letting us feel our way around the fuck. He’s got a great cock, average in length but girthy, with a great mushroom head. He also knows how to use it to make an ass feel good. We settled into a nice rhythm. Sometimes, he would be controlling the fuck, deciding how fast, how deep, and how hard it was. At other times, I could use the sling to control speed and depth, plus I could move around, getting his cock into new positions. We fucked around for a while and then decided to take a hydration break, plus it gave us a chance to smoke some more. We sat, drank, smoked, and talked about all sorts of things. Finally, Daniel looked at me with a glint in his eye and asked if I was ready to be fisted. Of course, I got back in the sling. Daniel lubed up his hands and started opening my hole. A few fingers, sometimes from one hand, sometimes from both, stretching, massaging, and getting my hole ready for his hand. He told me to take a hit of poppers and slid his hand inside me. This time, we were able to take it slow, and he really worked over my ass. His hands and arms are hairy, and I could feel the coarseness on my hole. And, we discovered something else that Daniel was really good at doing. He could intuit when to get a little rough, go in a bit deeper, or let me take a short rest. He was a great sister, and I was enjoying the ride. He pulled his hand out and grabbed one of the toys. He lubed it up and then sprinkled some T on it. Fuck, a booty bump is always awesome. He easily pushed the toy into me and distributed the T all around my ass. I could feel the burn and, shortly, felt the oncoming rush. He fucked me with that toy and another, larger one for a while until I needed a break. Once the sling was empty, Daniel jumped in. I helped him get his feet into the stirrups and got a great look at his hairy hole. Rimming a guy is even better if he has a hairy hole, and Daniel’s looked awesome. I started gently, but he pulled my head right into his ass, so I really went for it, probing into his hot hole with my tongue. Poppers make me an ass pig when I’m rimming, so those were used to add to the intensity. At one point, I looked up, and Daniel was lubing up one of his dildos. He told me that he liked using it when he was spun. I took the toy from him and started to tease his hole with it. I’d slap his ass with it, slide it down his crack and over his hole, and then slowly let the head enter his ass. It was so sexy to see his hairy hole twitching in anticipation. I told him to take a hit of poppers and shoved the toy inside. It was a tight fit, but he took it like a champ. He started moving the sling back and forth, so I held steady, letting him ride the dildo as deep and hard as he wanted. He was obviously enjoying it, and the view from my end was awesome, too. I fucked him with the dildo for a while when he suggested that I go for something bigger. I picked up another dildo and asked him if he wanted it, and he said, “Nope. I want your fist in me”. Damn, I had no idea he would be taking my fist tonight too, but I was happy to oblige. He thought we should smoke some more before moving to the fisting, so he got out of the sling and got the pipe prepped for us. We’d smoke some, maybe do some shotgunning, all while feeling each other up. It was hot to feel Daniel’s well-lubed hole, and I stuck some fingers in as we played around. He decided that he was ready to go, so he got back in the sling and settled back for a nice session. I was feeling the effects of the T, and I’m sure he was as well. Since he had taken the dildo recently, his ass was opening up quickly. I worked into his hole with my fingers, twisting and spreading his ass open for me. He was squirming around, obviously enjoying the work of my fingers and hands on his ass. Daniel picked up the poppers and said that he was going to take a hit and I should work my fist into his ass while he was soaring from them. He did two hits in each nostril, and I pushed my well-lubed hand into his hairy hole. Once I was in his ass, I let my hand just rest there, occasionally flexing or twisting it a bit. Daniel’s eyes were wide, and he looked like he was having a blissful experience. After a while, I started moving a bit more, sometimes going a little deeper but always checking in with him about how he felt. He encouraged me to keep flexing my hand and expanding my “duck bill” so that he felt a greater sense of fullness. I also loved seeing the hair around his hole mixed in with the lube on my arm. I pulled out and gently stroked his hole. He was breathing pretty heavily and looked like he needed a break from the fisting action, so I slowly teased his hole until he decided to get out of the sling. There was a lot more partying, fisting, toys, and other play that night. Daniel fisted me a few more times and got in almost to his elbow. He also pounded my hole with his biggest dildo. I fisted him one more time and fucked him with the dildo too. We’d play around a little bit, take a break for hydration and smoking, and then one of us would get in the sling. It was a great night, and I was surprised when it started getting lighter as the sun rose. We played through the night and into mid-morning before I walked (naked) back to my car, dressed, and drove home. It’s exciting to know that the next time will be even better.

Chapter 1 – Daniel is a working man Horny again, I got on a few of the apps with little hope of success. It was late on a workday, and guys would use the “I have to get up for work in the morning” excuse while collecting pictures and talking nasty. But I was horny and willing to engage. There’s a big factory being built near where I live. There are lots of guys that were brought in to work there, and some of them are really hot. A little rough around the edges, but a hot, hairy, well-muscled stud is always a good find. A guy named Daniel hit me up on one of the apps. He said he was temporarily working at the factory, staying at his family’s cabin near the river. He only had one pic, but it showed a nice hairy chest with good definition. He said that he was getting off work soon and would love to have a guy over to help him relax. We discussed our interests, and he was mostly a top but liked mutual sucking and rimming too. He also said he’d brought his sling with him, which excited me more. We made plans to meet up after he got home. He emailed me to let me know he was home and ready to have me over. I put on shorts and a T-shirt and headed out immediately. His place overlooked the river, with a big screened-in porch across the back. I knocked on the front door, and Daniel answered quickly. He was wearing tight shorts and had a plaid shirt on that was unbuttoned. Handsome and a nice, trimmed beard. He looked great. He let me in and said that he needed to take a quick shower. I told him that wasn’t necessary since he looked pretty good as is, and I’m OK with some man musk. He shrugged and said that it was my choice. He suggested that we set up the sling on the porch. The screens would keep the bugs away, we’d hear the river while we played, and being outdoors is always fun. That sounded great to me. He got the duffle bag with the sling in it, and we started to put it together. I noticed that he had a bigger bulge in his shorts than when I first got there, so I suggested that we get naked and finish assembling the sling. We both quickly discarded our clothes and started making out and feeling each other up. Daniel had a great body, with hair in all the right places. For me, that means that he had a hairy ass. That is my favorite to look at, play with, rim, or whatever else a guy wants to do. After we got back to finishing the sling, Daniel was crouched down, looking for something in the duffle bag. I got behind him and gave his hole a quick lick. He jumped but then set it right back down on my lips. He had that great musk from a day’s work, and I love that. Not wanting to distract too much, I gave his hole a few licks and then suggested that we get back to the sling. Once the sling was ready, Daniel asked if I’d like to smoke before we got to it. I asked him what we were going to smoke, and he said that he had lots of options. I asked if he had T, and he grinned broadly and walked inside. Seeing his naked body walk away was all my cock needed to get hard. He came back with a water pipe that was ready to go. He lit the torch, melted some down, and took a deep hit before passing it to me. I did the same but then shot gunned the smoke into his mouth. He was a great kisser, so we made out like that, naked and hard on the porch, with the sounds of nature all around us. We broke apart, smoked some more, and then he had me get in the sling. He immediately started rimming my ass, and he was good at it. I was moaning and groaning, and he was having a good time. My cock had shrunk due to the T, but my ass was more than ready for him. Luckily, his cock did not suffer from shrinking, and he was stroking it while he ate my ass. Then, Daniel stood up and pressed his cock against my hole. He added some lube and slid his cock inside me. He had a thick cock, not too long, but it felt great inside me. We fucked for a while, and he said that we needed to smoke some more, so I got out of the sling. We sat on some chairs and smoked a bit, feeling each other up. I got between his legs and sucked his cock into my mouth. I could taste his precum, my ass, and the lube on his dick. When I buried my nose in his pubes, I came back with another great aroma. A hot, sexy man scent that I love. I suggested that I eat his ass. He climbed in the sling and, even in the low light, looked fucking awesome. I worked his hole, licking all around his hairy ass before focusing on the prize before me. I licked, probed, and sucked on his hole, savoring the taste and smell of a man. Daniel wanted to fuck, so he got out of the sling, I got in, and he shoved his hard cock inside me. He knew how to fuck, and we went at it for quite a while. He asked if he could breed me, and I said yes. He upped the thrusting and shoved in deep, groaning while he unloaded his cum in my ass. After, he slowly pumped my hole some more before pulling out. He sat on a chair that he positioned under the sling, looking at my freshly bred hole. He’d reach out to stroke it or stick a finger in while absentmindedly playing with his cock and, sometimes, his hole. Daniel told me he had a great time, and I thought things were over. I was getting ready to get out of the sling when he asked if I was into any other piggy play. Since he just bred my ass, he kind of already knew the answer. I told him that I liked ass-to-mouth, some piss play, and deep ass work. He stood up, came over, and fed me his cock when he asked if I’d ever been fisted. I said yes, and he asked if I was up for it tonight. Fuck, yeah! We smoked a little more before he started playing with my hole again. He had big hands, and we needed a lot of lube, but he got his hairy paw inside me. That night, we didn’t fist for too long since we had work in the morning, but he invited me over for another session this weekend.

just left, haven't written about my FB in awhile... don't wanna be boring, just cause He never gets old for me, doesn't mean the same FB repeatedly seeding me isn't boring to read about? idk. For me, He's kinda like a drug and i'm addicted to Him, Him breeding me is like a fix. Butt better. my holes so sloppy when He leaves. Normally i wanna keep all a Mans seed in deep and absorb it, but He keeps fucking and shoots a couple of times, so the outside of my hole is cum sloppy too and i end up fingering and tasting Him from inside me after He pulls out. He wants to sleep over, hang out, watch movies together and eat together and fuck a lot. i've tried to explain about bottoms and eating, but He doesn't really seem to get it lol. idk, it's sweet and hot. Told Him if He wants to sleep over just to give me warning and i'll leave my back door open and He can come in and crawl in bed with me and slide on in. 🙂

He walked out again instead of staying over. My ex, my first, my fucking everything. We had broken up almost three months ago, and he still would drop by the apartment to hang out with me almost every day. But he would never sleep over and never entertain the thought of getting back together even tho we spent all our time together. I don't know why we ended up breaking up it was a shock, he just did it one day, but now nights were the loneliest they'd ever been. So when the nights get lonely I did what every lonely gay man does: I logged onto A4A. Some time earlier I had put up a few discreet shirtless pics and one where I arched backwards, just to get boys talking, but I didn't really having any intention of connecting with anyone who responded to my profile. I'm 23 5'5", 145 pounds, a 28 inch waist, fairly muscular smooth Hispanic. Yeah, I got a lot of offers. More than one guy at my gym would recognize and approach me, and afterwards spend countless small talk emails begging for me to 'Test drive' his cock, or 'bitch bounce' for them. I must admit, I got a nice rubbery one reading the comments. I would talk to them for a bit then jack off, but tonight, I had actually been allowed to cuddle with my ex and I was so horny when he left I did the pathetic thing and asked him to fuck me. But he just smiled, kissed my head, ear and neck, and left. The sexual tension was so intense my thick, seven inch cock was rock hard and dripping before I even logged onto A4A. I scrolled through the emails and then profiles till one made me stop. FUKYNGBREDEEP 39 years old. 6'6 220lbs. I couldn't help but click to get a better look. There was only a torso pic of a light skinned man with a beautiful body, hairy chest, pecs that looked bigger than my head and arms that could crush Grandma Smith apples into apple juice. Then there was the profile itself LOOKING TO FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF YOUNG BOYS. YOU DOWN, HIT ME UP. LOOKING FOR YOUNG BOYS WITH A TIGHT ASS. MUST BE WILLING TO PLEASE ME IN EVERY WAY I WANT. MUST BE UNDER 25. NO EXCEPTIONS. I WILL ASK FOR ID IF YOU LOOK OLDER THAN 25. I"M ONLY INTO YOUTHFUL BOYS. NO SHAME IN MY GAME. I KNOW WHAT I WANT AND I GET IT. POPPING CHERRIES ALL OVER THE WORLD, MAKING SMALL DICKED MEN HATE ME. LOL Profession: EAT FUCK BREED. Top. 10 Inches Uncut Anything Goes POZ My mouth was wide open reading the description of ten inches, and then closed when I read poz. I closed the profile, and got a drink and went on with my browsing. Before I finished my drink, I clicked his profile again, I read it and go turned on. I closed it and shook my head. But before 20 minutes passed I opened it again, and that's when he messaged me. "You want it" Was all the message said. I read it four times just trying to think of the possible responses, "Yeah it nice but..." "No way!" "Confident are we?" But before I could send any of it he messaged me again. "I'm logging off, call me." And left his number and logged off. I shook my head while still staring at his profile. I walked away from my computer preparing to jack off, when I got a text message from my ex saying he was sorry etc etc. I looked at the number on the screen of the computer and slowly typed it into my phone. I hit call, and the voice on the side of the receiver made my throat go dry. A gruff manly baritone answered. "Yo." "H-hey" I responded "I'm the...." "I know," he cut in, asking simply "Where are you?" I answered before I could stop myself. "You're close by," he responded. "Come over." "I don't hook up" I replied. "We don't have to hook up. I can't rape you, I'd go to prison. Come over. Two hot guys chilling out. If you want I'll show you my dick and you can leave whenever you want. Just come over. You know you want to see me." I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah...ok." He gave me the address and I got in my car and drove over. It was close, maybe a 15 minute drive and I was in a neighborhood of decent houses. At the end of the street was a house that looked to be a duplex. I texted my arrival. In about a minute a shirtless, pajama bottom wearing sex god was standing in front of his home. His hairy chest and abs were even more defined in real life and he looked so enormous my mouth dropped before I exited my car. He smiled and shook my hand firmly. He had green eyes and a thick 5 o'clock shadow. I followed him inside and he grabbed a beer as I followed him down a hall up a flight of stairs and into a messy bedroom. The king sized bed was tossed and had a distinct smell, but while I was noticing the room and the big screen which was playing a silent porno, my host had taken off his pj bottoms revealing a hairy thick muscle ass, and as he turned around hanging between his legs was an huge soft cock that seemed as long as half his thigh. I inhaled suddenly and coughed as though I was choking just from looking at it. He smiled. "It's eight inches soft," he announced grinning with obvious pride. For several seconds I stood there silent, completely stunned. Other than porn, I'd only seen my ex's cock up close, and he was fairly sized, but this guy's cock was insane. "You're HIV positive" was the only thing that spurted from my mouth. He laughed and turned to look at the TV, his monster dick swinging as he did. "Yup" he replied, taking a swing of beer. "I'm sorry I...I should go. I don't know what I'm doing." I turned to leave the house, but before I could reach the door and he strode across the room and stood in front of the door. "Touch it" he invited me. I stuttered meaninglessly. "Touch it," he repeated, "You know you wanna, feel it." And with that he guided my hand to his hairy bull sized balls. I felt them in each hand and looked up as he shut his eyes and breathed deeply. The cock was already the size of my forearm and so heavy when I took the shaft in my hand I stroked slightly down I heard him chuckle. He put his arm around my neck and guided me too the bed. He laid down there while I sat between his legs, his cock pointing at me, and I found myself stroking his hardening growing cock. He watched the porn on the TV screen behind me, every so often looking at me and smiling while I stroked up and down his giant shaft until it reached it's full length and girth. I was in awe. It was a beast of a dick, heavy and full. And then I noticed that as I stroked upwards, a large bead of precum appeared at the tip and began to drip down the shaft. When I did it again even more precum began to slip out. "Fuck," I breathed softly. I heard his chuckle and found him gazing at me somewhat amusedly. "You like cum?" he asked. I shrugged, truth was, i loved it the taste the feeling when my ex's cock would erupt inside me. We were each others first, so we barebacked all the time, but this was completely different. It was like I'd turned on a faucet, more and more precum began to pour from the tip with each stroke and now my hand was sticky and slimy covered with this dangerous spread. "Get comfortable," he suggested as he leaned toward me and began to help me pull of my shirt. I kicked off my jeans and now he was smiling but differently. Something hungry was in his eyes. "You're a hot lil fucker, aren't you?" I smiled continue to stroke his increasingly slick dick. "You like getting rimmed?" I looked at him and nodded. I knew I had a nice ass, even straight guys would say so, besides a lil rimming would be fine, My ass was begging for something. Anything. So I slipped off my underwear and turned around showing him my butt. "Damn boy!" he remarked. I smiled as he put his hands on my hips and guided my butt to his mouth. "Ohhhhhhhh......fuuuuuuuuck" finally erupted from my mouth when his tongue met my hole. I could feel his warm tongue opening me up and shoving itself deeper into me. "Ohhhhh.....fuuuuuuuuck!!" I said again as i felt his teeth abraded against my hole. "You're tight boy!" he remarked. Almost automatically I began to gyrate and grind my hips back toward his face."Fuck yeah!" he said and began eating again vigorously. I was holding onto his monster cock like a pole for support as he ate and ate and chewed and licked and tongue fucked me. I was losing my mind it felt so good. The whole while I stared at his giant daddy dick looking at me dripping salivating begging for me take it in my mouth. And the dick's owner was wildly tongue-fucking me like I had never been rimmed before. His hands worked all over my ass and body and his tongue moved with aggression and force that i could feel his tongue being inserted and withdrawn as he sucked and ate me out. My eyes rolled back with my head and before I could stop myself I took the head of his cock into my mouth. My mouth felt so full with just the head and I felt him moaning "Yeaaah!" into my ass I moved my head up n down and side to side sucking up his poz precum. It tasted so thick and good I moaned loudly on it while I tried to work my mouth down his shaft, but I could barely take it half way. The volume of our moaning increased as we pleasured each other, until finally he lifted me off his cock and, as I got on all fours, he knelt in front of me, presenting me with more cock to suck. Groaning in pleasure, I took it into my mouth as he gently pushed his dick into my throat. "That's it, boy." He spoke gently remarking "Your mouth is like an ass. It can take it. It can swallow my whole dick." I grunted with approval at his suggestion. Taking my head into his big hands, he slowly began to fuck my throat. I choked and gagged. "Nah nah nah, boy, relax," he remarked, adding "It's just like taking it up your ass. Relax and let it get wet. Let it all drool down. It will help you take it. Yeah, yeah, there you go, there you go. Yeah, let it pour down your chin make it wet." I was coughing up on my chin and a puddle was forming on the sheets as my drool and snot was falling from my mouth and deeper and deeper his cock pushed into my mouth it was heaven. He took one hand and wiped some off the drool cough up from my chin and began rubbing it on my hole. I gasped and moaned as he worked a large we digit into my wet ass and opened it up. He pulled me off his cock and laid me on my back and continued working his finger in my hole. "Oh yeah you like that don't you boy?" I nodded as he worked his finger in and out of me making me gasp and moan with each intrusion. "Yeah, you want some more?" I nodded as he pushed a second finger into my hole. twisting and turning them I moaned and gyrated under him. "Fuck yeah" I moaned "Oh god fuck yes." "Yeah taste these fingers, boy, they taste good." I took his two fingers in my mouth and sucked, tasting my ass juices. I grunted in approval and sucked away as i felt his cock pushing against my hole, teasing it. "Wanna feel how this dick feels in that boy pussy?" I looked deep at him as he pushed his dick against my hole lining it up. "Tell me you wanna feel this dick, boy." My breath quickened as he applied pressure but I said nothing. He pressed harder, I could feel the head slipping in slowly as he pumped again and again until finally,"You want this cock, boy?" "Fuck yes sir!" POP! My hole swallowed the head. "Oh GOD! FUCKKKKK!" I felt his cock split my ass he pumped slowly . My ass was tight but he knew what he was doing. He pushed in an inch, stopped to let me adjust, just pumping back and forth till he felt me moaning then pushed further. He entered me slowly, his death stick opening me deeper and deeper. My head rocked from side to side and I spread my legs apart. He held my ankles I could see his muscles and veins pumping with the same controlled ferocity of his cock. After about 15 minutes of this entry I reached down between my ass and felt still another three inches of rock hard thick cock against my hole begging to slide home. I left my hand there and felt as slowly they too entered into me watching him watch me till i was holding his balls resting on my hole. "YEEAAAAH!!!" he growled and I could feel the growl resonating in my ass vibrating inside me. Then it began. He pulled back and fucked. I screamed as he did again And again. Again and again. "OH MY GOD!!!!" I yelled and held on to his shoulders where my ankles rested as he fucked again and again. I could feel his cock pounding in my head and in the head of my dick it felt like i would cum with every thrust. I yelled again and again as he fucked deeper and deeper pulling out more and more fucking me. I could barely breath as he drove me into his headboard again and again. "FUUUUUUCKKKK!!!" I again yelled as he grabbed my ankles forced them above my head to touch the headboard and began to let gravity drop his monster into me. Then he suddenly he pulled out of me and pulled me down the bed. I tried to catch my breath, and he flipped me over and pulled my ass up. Then in a fluid motion he sank his dick back into my ass, balls deep, doggy style, and holding my hips as he pistoned fucked me. WIth a free hand he grabbed my hair and pulled my head back as he fucked relentlessly into me. I was lost feeling so open and taken control of that when he flattened me out on my stomach I couldn't help but push my ass back on him as his muscle body fucked me from above n behind. He rolled over and now I rode him bouncing as hard as I could. He turned me around dick still inside me and forced me on my back ankles wide as he continued to climb on me and fuck me again on my back. "You ready baby." he finally growled "I'm gonna fucking poz this hole. You will never be the same and you will belong to me." I looked back at him terrified. "Tell me you want this poz load, baby!" I bite my lip as he picked up speed. "SAY YOU WANT MY LOAD, BOY." "FUCK YES. GIVE ME YOUR LOAD. FUCK I WANT YOUR POZ CUM!" I felt him erupt inside my hole. Cum was filing me up fast as string after string blew into my body. I moaned and touched myself, but he held my hands above me. "I said I would poz you, baby. I'm not done." He kept fucking me. I could feel the poz load running in and out of my ass as he flipped me me into various positions, fucking continuously. I passed out in the middle of it, and woke up he was fucking me face down on the pillow unloading another load into my ass. He fucked me three times that night. When he finally pulled his cock out of my ass, both my ass and his cock were coated with cum and blood. My hole gaped wide, and we both reeked of sweat and sex. I crawled off the bed, dressed, and he ushered me out the door. I stumbled to my car and somehow drove home where I stripped, climbed into bed, and touched my hole, feeling load after load of his poz cum beginning to drip out of my body. My phone buzzed. It was another text from my ex asking if I could hangout. I licked some of the cum from my hole off my finger. Sure, I thought. Why the fuck not?

I like how you think. I am sure I am an addict too. When I was young and getting bred I knew I wanted that feeling daily. Most boys sort of grow out of it some as they get older. I did not. I am now 40 and need to serve daily. Since starting my journey at 13, literally thousands of men have used me to get off. Because I know what I am I can never really have a relationship ship. I have resigned to know that it is just who I am.

Hell, yes. The pain is very brief and then turns into to a total pleasure. It takes a monster cock to breach your second ring, and there is nothing quite like that when “coming in your gut“ is not just an expression.

There used to be a sleazy gay motel in LA, the Coral Sands. It was a dump, with the best sex. I usually fly down for a long weekend. There were 75 rooms so with registered guests and visitors who snuck in, you could assume they were always 150 men looking to play. I usually got a single room. But there were several times I booked a room for the weekend with a friend. We went into this knowing that one night he would pimp me out, and the other night I would pimp him out. The key to this is that there was always someone in control, watching out for the welfare of the cum dump, controlling who came in or not. I seldom was blindfolded. I can take it or leave it. But many times I never look back and had no idea who was climbing on top of me to fuck. But all concerns were alleviated, knowing my friend was there to watch out for me.

I sometimes ask a guy if he likes to get rimmed. The usual reply is “doesn’t everyone?” To which I reply, “surprisingly there are about four men in America, who do not!“ 🤣 I have found one of this men! 😉

Just had a visit from a builder working on the development where I live. He has become a regular fuck buddy and always pops over when he is on site…. He just left mine after dumping a load in me…this is the beauty that just unloaded in me….💦💦💦

Prey animals evolve to avoid detection and predation. Predators evolve to hunt prey. The outcome of this evolution is that a prey animal knows a predator when he sees one, and vice versa. Any encounter that one picks with the other is voluntary, even if it's destructive. He knew I was a predator. I met him for the first time on my 54th birthday. I wasn't normally a birthday guy, but this one felt special for some reason. He was a new intern at the firm on summer break. It was the boy's second day, but he'd already looked up all the higher-ups' birthdays on Facebook. Boy wanted to make authority figures feel respected. He came too late to get to know me very well, so his gift was shitty. He looked up at me with his big, brown doe eyes and said, "Happy birthday, sir! I got you this fancy pen. I'm sorry my present wasn't better. Let me know if I can make it up to you!" I looked down at him and let my eyes speak my mind. The boy never followed dress code: his pants were too tight and his shirts were too large. He had long, soft hair and near-perfect complexion. He was about a foot shorter than me. His smile was beautiful, but it seemed to hide a certain wickedness. "I'm not a pen guy," I said. "Make it up to me." His face, which looked hurt at first, suddenly contorted into an empty, lustful gaze. He looked down at the bulge I'd never made an effort to hide. "Look at me, new boy. Can't misbehave on your second day." I put my hand on his cheek and stroked it. He was soft as butter. "I'm sorry, sir," he whispered. "You're gonna make it up to me, right?" "Yes, sir." "Good boy. You'll do just fine here. I'm gonna take you out to a drink tonight, okay? I like to get to know my new interns intimately." He blushed. Adorable. "Sir, I'm not 21..." "You have a fake?" He nodded his head. "I'm picking you up at your parents' place tonight after dark. Stay up til 1. I'm taking you straight to the bar." I did. I spent that Friday evening at the bathhouse. I got a lot of mileage out of it being birthday. Nobody was scared to take my loads that night. I'd lied and told them I was back on my meds. I got back to my place at 12:30. I rifled through my dirty laundry. I wanted to smell overpowering. I settled on a sweaty wife-beater I put on for the gym, the undies I'd had on at the bathhouse, and a pair of Levi's. I drove over to his place and texted him. The house lights were off, so his parents were asleep. He walked out nervously and sat in my passenger seat. He looked tired. "You're gonna love this place," I said. I took him to the Brothers' in Broadripple and poured long island iced teas into him until I could tell he wasn't gonna be coy anymore. I knew he was prey since I laid eyes on him, but it shocked me how willing he was to be hunted. After his second, he looked down on my arm until his eyes reached the biohazard tattoo on my forearm. He smiled shamelessly. He reached out and touched it, saying, "I heard men with tattoos like this were dangerous." I grinned. I don't know how, but the boy had already been corrupted. It felt pointless to go through the process of breaking him. He'd already been corrupted. But if he thought other doms pushed him before, he had no idea what was in store for him tonight. "That's right, baby. Where'd you learn that?" He hesitated and stuttered. "Um... on Twitter, I think." "You know what this tattoo means, don't you?" The waitress brought him a tequila shot I ordered while he was distracted. "I know what your tattoo means." he was stroking my tattoo, now. "Good boy. Tell Daddy what it means." "It means you're poz." "Good boy," I said. "Does that intimidate you?" He shook his head. "How old are you, boy?" He leaned forward and whispered, "I'm 18, sir. You weren't the only one with a birthday today." I pulled his hand away from my tattoo and onto my thigh. My cock was getting hard very slowly. "That means I'm legal, sir. I want a birthday gift, too." He reached his hand onto my cock. I could tell by his face that he was surprised—pleasantly—by how big it was. "A gift I can keep with me forever." He was drunk. I bet he was watching poz play videos all afternoon, and the liquor brought it out of him. He clearly hadn't thought this through. He was horny and trying to live out a dangerous, self-destructive fantasy. I let him. "I don't have any condoms," I said. He looked worried, like he was having a crisis of conscience. I bought him another tequila shot and his mood improved. "But you're mature enough to pull out. Aren't you?" he was still worried, but if he was offering himself an out, I wouldn't accept it. He needed to know what I had planned for him. "I'm not gonna pull out," I said. He moaned. I couldn't believe this kid. "You know I'm poz. You know I'm twice as big as you. I bet you stumbled on poz porn for the first time a little bit ago. You have a voice inside your head urging you to have sleazy, illicit, dangerous sex. You're addicted to the thought of your guts being flooded by a diseased pervert. Is that right?" He brought my tattoo up to his mouth and kissed it, letting a little spit linger between his tongue and my arm. "That's right." "It'll never go away. Never. You're gonna watch dozens of verbal poz play videos every day until you give in. Tease guys into raping you. Soon the idea of a guy being neg is gonna turn you off, make him seem like he's not a man." I stood up. "This is forever. Once you're poz, you're poz. If my dick is in your guts, it's because I'm gonna flood them. I'm not pulling out. There's no guarantee I'll infect you, so if this is what you really want, you need to know it's a commitment I won't stop breeding you until you're mine. You're drunk, and you'll hate yourself in the morning for choosing this, so think it over. But once I breed you, I own you." I knew what he was gonna choose, but he might never be able to forgive himself. Fine by me. I walked to the bathroom to piss. I had a lot of beer. 10 seconds in, the boy had made up his mind. He walked into the bathroom, dropped to his knees between me and the toilet, and aimed my piss into his mouth. He drank it for maybe 45 whole seconds, tapping the tip of my cock against his tongue and sucking the rest out of the slit. I was hard as a rock. His hand looked so tiny cupped around my balls. He licked as much piss off the urinal as he could. In that moment, I realized why I loved being 54. I was exactly three times as old as my preferred prey. I picked him up to his feet by the throat and carried him to the window. I forced it open, dumped him outside, and hopped out. I carried him over my shoulder, my big, strong hand on his soft ass the whole time. I put him in the back seat of the Cadillac and locked the doors. He looked scared, but his dick was stiff in his shorts. "No going back now, boy," I said. He almost looked like he regretted it, but he didn't fight back at all. I started to drive us to the nearest motel. If he knew what I had in store for him, he would've avoided me like so many other employees tried to. But this young piece of meat acted like he craved to be turned into a whore, and I was going to do it whether he really wanted to or not. "You got fifteen minutes until I turn that boypussy inside out for hours with my fat poz cock. Any last words, meat?" He looked like he was falling in love with me. "I wish I joined your firm two years ago..." "Happy birthday, boy," I said as I parked the car in front of a Red Roof Inn. "Get ready for your gift." TBC

Peter, my first childhood friend. He lived next door. At the age of four, we loved to go behind the shed, strip to our underwear and pretend we were Indians. We would wrestle and take turns strangling and knifing each other to death. At the moment of death, we would always fall on top of each other exhilarated by our skin on skin contact. A few years later we would have sleepovers in the shed. He introduced me to tying leather straps around the base of our erections. I was intoxicated by the smell of the leather. He moved away so we didn’t see much of each other until grade nine. We would meet up at an abandoned shed and simply fondle each other’s hard ons. I was so turned on as he talked about what his older brother did to him sexually when they were left alone at home. I’m sure he wondered why I never asked him to do these things with me. I was deeply ashamed of these encounters and soon decided there was no place to talk about this and therefore it was to disappear from my life. I buried myself in my school work and the high school band. This didn’t stop me from being turned on by the handsome player beside me whose shirt always gapped so I could see his nipple and beautiful chest. After high school I left town for university, and Peter became the custodian for a private school. I was a frightened, studious nerd, never missing a class and spending hours studying and sleeping in the library. On one of my holiday visits back to my hometown I bumped into Peter on the street just down the block from the abandoned shed. He lit up a cigarette and suggested we go to the shed ‘for old times sake’. I ignored the fact that he was now married and the fear in my gut and followed him. Once inside he pinned me against a wall and kissed me passionately. My first kiss, ever! I was transported out of this world as his tongue slipped into my mouth and began to dance with mine. I don’t know how long we sucked face, but I soon realized he had opened my pants and fished out my now very stiff cock. He quickly dropped to his knees and my stiffy was deep down his hot throat. His eyes smiled up at me as his head bounced and I watched my member move back and forth in his lips. It didn’t take long ‘til I ejaculated, and he sucked down every drop. I stood horrified and frozen; he stood, grinned at me and planted another kiss on my gasping mouth. I hurriedly pulled up my pants and ran failing to savour the taste of my own cum. It would be several years before I would run into him again. I’d been working at my first job for about a year and went home for an uncle’s funeral. This coincided with my high school reunion, so I decided to attend. Of course, I went alone and was not surprised to see Peter and his wife there. I’d heard they now had three kids. I bumped into Peter alone at the bar. He was already a bit tipsy, and I was embarrassed by how blatantly he was flirting with me. I hustled him off to a private hallway and we were soon entering a one-person bathroom together. Door closed and locked I was once again pinned against the wall and our mouths were locked in a passionate kiss. When we finally broke from this I anxiously asked about his wife. He hushed me with a finger to his mouth with one of his shit faced grins. He then unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants. Commando, his large, ridged cock slapped against his taunt belly and sexy treasure trail. He pushed me to my knees presenting his manhood to my face. I’d never really taken the time to notice before, but I was overcome by it’s cut, beauty. He grinned and nodded to me. With some hesitation I took the silky head in my mouth. “Use your tongue.”, he encouraged. Instinctively it found his piss slit and tried in vain to enter. He moaned his enjoyment and I was soon deep throat experimenting as I gave my very first blow job. As I felt I was just getting this figured out he pulled my head off his cock. “Stop. You’re good! I don’t want to cum yet.” He soon had his shirt off and my pants around my knees. Then he was kneeling and my penis had disappeared down his throat. ‘How was it I hadn’t experience this since the last time years ago?’ I wondered. “Oh, fuck Peter! That feels so good. I’m so close.” As he jumped to his feet and spun around, he urgently said, “No, not yet.” As he bent over leaning against the sink, he spit on one hand and rubbed it into his hairy ass hole. I had no idea what to do. He grabbed my raging hard on, pulled me to him and guided it to his winking hole. When I remained like a dear caught in headlights he backed onto my raw cock. This was the early seventies. I finally looked in the mirror and there was his classic shit faced grin urging me on. “Fuck me.” It felt great in there and I slowly started the in and out movement. Truth be told he was doing most of the moving with his ass. “Fuck me man, pound my ass.” I upped my game a little. “Faster, harder, fuck my cunt!” Something then possessed me, and I started slamming into him. Over and over and over again. “Fuck yeah, that’s what I need. Don’t stop!” “But if I keep this … up I’m … going to lose it.” I gasped. “Fuck yeah. That’s the point. Cum inside me, I need your sperm.” With those words not even fully out of his mouth I blasted, and blasted, and blasted! After the biggest orgasm of my life, I collapsed on his back as we both caught our breath. When I softened and fell out of him, he reached into his ass and brought out two fingers full of my man juices which proceeded right into his mouth. Then he kissed me and fed me my own cum, mouth to mouth. I was instantly hard again, a fact his free hand on my cock didn’t miss. In one swift move he was turned, bent and had my raw cock up his ass again. I didn’t need encouraging this time and ravaged his ass for the next twenty minutes. Oh, the stamina of youth as I had recovered and blasted the second load painting his guts. Gave my first blow job and pumped two loads into the ass of my now married childhood friend. Now that was a reunion beyond all my expectations. To be continued

100% this - taking cock shouldn't be painful, even if it's a monster cock. I get the sense a lot of guys here don't enjoy or understand foreplay but it's just as good as the fuck itself for me. When you take your time with a bottom and feel his body open up for you it's incredible, and feeling his pleasure as well as your own is so gratifying. I've felt the second ring both ways - my cock in someone else's, and someone else's cock in mine - and there's definitely no comparison for it. It doesn't get any better than knowing the load is going that deep and being locked inside by the intestine bend.

Kevin is coming over tonight. I told him over text that we would be having pasta and asked if he could cut some basil to bring over. He has a habit of pruning the basil the wrong way—yes, there is a right and wrong way—so I sent him a picture of a basil plant with dotted lines to indicate where to cut it. I tell him that I will be having my daily nap and for him to wake me up by crawling into bed, give me a wake-up hug. I try to take my nap, but the news of Sam Altman returning to OpenAI excites me, so I stay up way too long to read all about it. I get a bit horny, so I go to Pornhub and watch some porn, jerk off, come, which relaxes me, and I am finally tired enough to have my nap, although it lasts only about an hour. Later. I can hear the door of my bathroom sliding open, and I know that Kevin is here, but I pretend that I am still asleep. I can hear his pants coming off; his shirt follows, and he crawls into bed with me, gives me a hug. “Well, hello,” I say, tired but glad to see him. “Hello there, handsome,” he says, gives me a hug. We lay there like that, hugging each other for almost an hour before I announce that I am getting hungry—it is almost 8 PM after all—so we get up from bed, put on our clothes, walk to the kitchen. Tonight, he is in charge of making the sauce. We have a routine going on when making pasta, which has served us well: he basically does the cooking, and I prep all the ingredients. I cut the sausages in two, squeeze out the content. Then, I dice the onion and the mushrooms. I give him the ingredients, and he begins to cook it. I prepare the sauce by emptying out the content of store-bought Napoletana, and begin to boil the pasta. By the time it is done, Kevin has finished making the sauce, and we combine the two. We don’t talk much during cooking beside the usual “here you go,” when I hand him the ingredients and the “thank you,” in response. We are focus on the tasks and there is a silent connection between us that speaks louder than words. The whole process takes thirty minutes from beginning to end, and we sit at the dining room table, marveling at our creation. “See,” I say. “This is why I much prefer to stay at home and cook. It’s cheaper and tastier.” This is true, and he nods in agreement. We open a can of Coke and share it between the two of us. It’s refreshing and hits all the right notes. I turn on the latest episode of Family Guy and we watch it until the very end. Later. We are in bed now. I am feeling very full and very tired. Kevin is giving me a foot massage. Soft autumn jazz music plays on our HomePod. We talk about what is happening in our lives in the form of updates, which are small short stories. I tell him about my car battery dying on me, and he tells me about the progress on getting his home insured from the recent burst pipes upstairs. The night is getting late—actually, it is only 10 PM—so we both go and floss our teeth, brush them. We tell Siri to turn off the lights, and before anyone knows it, the room is fill with snores.

I actually did that one time as a top. There was a guy chatting with me on Grindr who was staying in the same hotel. I had no intention of hooking up because it was a non-pic profile, but he started talking about how hot it would be to fuck him blindfolded. I was horny as hell and his text profile was hot, so agreed to it. Told him he'd have to ride and I'd be blindfolded laying on the bed. He agreed, I stripped and got out some lube and condoms (I was horny and we hadn't talked about it.) I was hard as a rock thinking about it as I blindfolded myself and laid back on the bed. He came in and quietly closed the door. I could hear him taking off his clothes and then felt him climb on the bed and take my hard cock in his mouth. He was an amazing cocksucker, but that wasn't what either of us was after. He pulled off my cock and I heard the lube snap open. I did not hear a condom tear and then felt his slick hand slide down my cock. Soon after, he moved and I felt him slowly sit down on my cock. Started off with a slow rocking motion before he began sliding up and down on me. I reached out and felt his legs and ran my hands up to his cock. He wasn't big, but he was rock hard. I started stroking and he asked me to stop since he didn't want to cum too soon. I moved my hands up and rubbed his stomach finding a smooth 6 pack of abs which was extremely hot. As he picked up the pace, I started randomly thrusting my hips up and ramming into him when he didn't expect it. One time I did it, he started swearing and I felt his ass clamp down on my and warm cum land on my stomach and chest. That sent me over the edge and I started shooting in his ass. He sat on me for a while before slowly pulling off reminding me to stay blindfolded as he wiped up quick in the bathroom, got dressed, and left. We chatted more later both saying how hot that had been. I begged him to send me a pic of him, but he never sent one. A day later, I was at the hotel pool relaxing after work and there was this family hanging out. Young dad, beautiful mom, and squeaking offspring. The guy never made eye contact, but he had an amazing body. Got me horny and I messaged my hookup to see if he wanted to come again that night. I almost laughed when young dad picked up his phone and looked at it before turning bright red as he looked at me. LOL We didn't hook up again and he blocked me after that.

I didn't think much at the time when I signed the roster that my room assignment would be with Joe. After, the whole purpose of the ski trip was to ski and meet new people. Not to mention the college ski trip gets a discount rate. The weekend trip was the usual departure on Friday. After a couple hours traveling, people gathered their gear and were assigned to a room. I gathered my belongings and dropped my stuff off at the room. The rooms usually are assigned four guys to a room. Each room has bunk beds with each person having a locker cabinet. I took my stuff to the room, changed and sneaked in a late afternoon of skiing the slopes. I came back when the park closed and went straight to my room to change. I noticed that there was a pile of stuff on the bunk bed below me. The other beds and locker cabinets appeared to still be vacant. I headed to the dinning room to have dinner. We could sit with your friends, up to six at a table. Conversation was free and comfortable. After all, we all had at least one common interest: we loved to ski. I sat with a group of two other guys and boy friend/girl friend. Small talk was had as we ate dinner. Not all went skiing in the afternoon. After dinner, while some lingered at the bar near the fireplace talking and playing board games, I went back to my room to take a shower. When I came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around my waist, I saw my roommate. He was above average in height with slightly curly dark blond hair. A chiseled face and unshaven look to him that made him look pretty hot. He was laying in his bed on his side and reading a small paper back book. "Hey buddy, I'm Joe. I hope you don't mind that I took the bottom bunk."I couldn't help but look at his awesome chest and his arms that supported his head. "Good to meet you Joe, I'm Marc" I proceeded to the bed above him to retrieve my shirt. "So, man, did you get some skiing in this afternoon?" he asked. "Yeah. Pretty good conditions at that." I looked out the window and the snow was coming down. Joe laid his book down and was looking at me as I changed my towel from around my waist and threw some sweat pants on. The slopes looked beautiful, and I asked "Hey Joe, did you get any skiing in this afternoon?" As I climbed up to the bunk bed above him. "Yeah, I was able to get in a few runs. I'm looking forward to tomorrow. I hear the conditions will be great." I kept the conversation going. "It appears we are the only ones assigned to the room." I was looking at the reflection of the mirror from the opened locker cabinet and was stunned to see Joe was massaging his cock through his tight long johns. "Yeah buddy, I think not as many came on this trip and I think we lucked out. It's less crowed, that's for sure." It was at that moment I noticed a sore spot on my shin and when I rubbed it I must have let out a slight noise. "What's the matter buddy?" came a voice below me. "Ah, nothing, I'm just a little sore near my shin. I feel a bump on my right leg." There was a pause. "Yeah, buddy, I've got a bump too and it aches! You ought to feel this thing." Now I wasn't born yesterday. I knew exactly what he was referring to, but was happy to play the game. I clamored down the bunk bed and leaned forward to look into Joe's bunk bed. He was laying there with the head lamp on as he rubbed his crotch. He had a huge hard-on under his long johns. He reached out and pulled me in by the arm. I promptly fell on top of him. He started kissing me and massaging my back and shoulders. He worked his tongue into my mouth as we struggled to maneuver on the small bed. I felt his cock rubbing against mine as he continued to work his hands down my back, eventually grabbing my ass cheek and manfully massaging them. "Hey buddy," he lightly said to me. "How 'bout you lock that door there and come back in here with me." With one swift motion, I complied, and slid under the covers with him. The lamp was positioned to the wall. We continued our passionate groping and kissing. I was thinking this was too good to be true. I reached into his pants to feel that mancock of his. It was oozing with pre cum and expanded in size as I wrapped my hand around it and pushing his pants back with my wrist. His cock and balls were perfect: massive, uncut, turgid, and hairy. At the same time I felt my sweat pants being pushed back to expose my ass. He was man handling my ass and rubbing his finger into my nice clean ass crack. Soon enough we were stark naked and illuminated by the side lamp. We were grinding our groins together, our stiff cocks rubbing against each other in passionate love making. Joe had his full weight on top of me as we kissed. My eyes opened as he stopped kissing me and had me pinned by the shoulders. His cock was rubbing at my ass hole and begging to come inside me. He was giving me that sad puppy look. Then I noticed his left chest had a tattoo on it...of a biohazard symbol. It was about 1-1/2 diameter. I placed my finger on it and rubbed it. He didn't seem bothered by it and held his chest out further for me to touch it. "Hey, bud. You know what that means?" I smirked and said "Yeah, it means your poz." He cracked a smile and looked into my eyes. "I think your damn hot! How about it man? Let me inside you." How could I resist? I didn't say a thing and just reached for that beautiful cock of his and placed his cock head into my butt hole. He just held it there and I could feel it creep deeper and deeper into my fuck hole. He was so gentle and the natural pre cum lubed my ass hole as he slid in deeper and deeper. He reached a point where he was fully inside me and kept it there. His cock was searing hot in my ass and I was loving every inch of it. He leaned forward and we began to kiss some more. I was in dreamy heaven as we were tonguing and french kissing each other. Without warning he worked on my neck and bingo, he was naturally nibbling on my ear lobe. Oh! that just turned me on. I was moaning like a bitch in heat. He was one smooth fucker too! He started to move his hips in and out thereby sliding his cock slowly in and out of my ass. He whispered into my ear, "Hey buddy, you poz?" I replied "no." "You want me to stop?" "Hell, no." He was working his magic dick in and out of me with ease. I could feel his cock getting larger and thicker. My ass was tight and it must have been a real turn on for him. I was clamping down on his cock to make sure it wouldn't slip out. "Hey buddy...I want to seed your ass man. I want to bred you and make you mine." "Oh yeah, please don't stop." How could something that feels so wonderful be wrong? In my mind, I couldn't imagine someone stopping at this point. For both our sakes I egged him on. He was working me good too. His tempo increased. And without warning his throbbing cock became enlarged as he went into a trance. He was shooting his cum load deep inside me. I could feel something warm and flowing inside me. Right away my thoughts went to was happening. I was thinking at that moment he was infecting me. Time seemed to stop as my ass was being flooded with his toxic venom. I was seeing stars and I thought I heard a chores of song. He was injecting me with his poz seed. The first couple thrusts his cock was exploding inside me. I laid there in awe as he was threw his head back and grasped for air. He was pushing harder into me as he ejaculated inside me. It was an experience I could never forget! My hand reached down to his balls and I could feel some leaking cum around the gap of my hole and his cock. I had enough on my fingers that I was able to start jacking my cock with his tainted poz cum. It didn't take long before I shot onto my chest a large puddle of cum. The whole time he was still rock hard and inside me. He collapsed on top of me and his beautiful head of hair fell onto my face. It smelled and felt great. He instantly fell asleep nuzzle against me. I lay there as he dozed and thought about what we had just done, but soon enough I also fell asleep. There was no reason to worry - that would come later.

Locked and loaded 👄

I plan on eating a lot this Thanksgiving so bottoming shortly afterwards is not in the cards lol. Yesterday, I got stuffed with 11 loads XD. I swear I have the best fwbs. Craig came over in a rainstorm after work. He always puts it down & made it wet in other ways. Oink. Load #1 Clint, my otter fwb, loves his bottoms smooth & full of cum. I haven’t seen him in months & told him I was preloaded. When I arrived, I quickly stripped and he pushed me onto the bed. Barely made eye contact as he was fucking me hard on my stomach & doggy. I love how hung and rough he is. After he bred me, we made out and cuddled. 😁 Andres is a stressed out Latino fwb who just moved to my neighborhood. Yay! He was sad about work + family stuff and he took his frustration out on my ass. He planted 3 loads in me! Loads 3, 4, & 5. I’m seeing him again this Sunday. XD I walked two blocks to Ross’s place. He’s a sweet Southern black cub with ongoing relationship drama lol. He told me his man wasn’t putting out & he’s been “saving his nut” for me. YES! He gave me loads 6, 7, & 8. E is a beautiful black muscle hottie w/ a foot fetish. He loves fucking me missionary while sucking my toes & feeling them on his face. I sucked him & asked if he wanted to gimme a foot massage. He replied, “Nah, I’m ready to fuck.” YESSIR! E is 1 of my more dominant top fwbs. He excels at throwing me around the bedroom & twisting me up like a pretzel. He fucks me in positions that nobody else does & it’s practically a yoga workout bottoming for him. He unloaded so beautifully inside of me. Also, kisses, pillow talk & cuddles afterwards. XD Horny Muscle daddy Gary was home after a Broadway show. I told him I took 9 loads & he said, “Great. I’m gonna give u 2 more.” That’s exactly what he did & he sucked me off. Love a talented top who sucks cock too. This morning, I had an accident on the street. I thought I had to fart; instead, I pushed a bunch of cum down my leg 🫢. Fortunately, I was on my way to a neighbor's place for a BJ. He sucked me off & I showered there lol. I flipped my underwear inside out & changed my pants in the office LOLOLOLOL I am very thankful for my many quality fwbs who give me nonstop dick, ass, mouth & cum. Happy Thanksgiving to you all.

I don't believe the government should be involved in any way regulating relationships. Period. Regardless of the actual age of consent in different jurisdictions, it's patently ridiculous that at 23:59 on Sunday you're too young/know nothing/can't consent and then a minute later at midnight you suddenly become "legal".

OmFFFFFg, my dick is drooling precum. I’m imagining myself there, experiencing the primal euphoria as only two pigs can!

The delivery guy came back, with 2 others (his bf and a friend) they all took turns breeding me hard and deep for 2 hours for a hot piggy session. while I was being plowed by the friend, I was sucking both the deliver my guy and his bf and he announced that he needs to take a piss, so I just took him in my mouth and signaled him to let go, I drank all of his piss without missing a drop 😉 After they deposited 5 loads in my hole and 2 in my mouth they left with the promise to return soon.

So true

I booked a session with my therapist as soon as I could. I got to a sexual health clinic even sooner. And, by the middle of the week I spilled the beans to my wife. Well not all the beans, not all the vivid details. Just that I found men more attractive than women, and I confessed I’d had ‘an encounter’ while away. She was not overly surprised and surprisingly supportive, despite her own fears of what this might mean for our marriage. Over the next month we each read everything we could find about how other couples had worked out ‘arrangements’ to stay together. I was so relieved when my STD tests came back negative. We had refrained from sex until I got those results. The night after I got them, we tried to make love, but my heart and body were just not into it. My soul had found an essential part of itself. I could not longer deny why hairy chests were such a magnet for my eyes and sex drive. It felt like it was tearing my heart from my chest but within six months I not only moved out I relocated to the other side of the continent. I actual camped and drove myself across the country. On the second day of the drive, I got confirmation that as terrified as I was about these choices it was the right thing to do. I had stopped for a quick lunch at a truck stop. I took a stool at the counter. The waiter was a cute young man. I was a bit confused because I could have sworn he was flirting with me as he took my order. Before he brought my food, instead of bringing my coffee he placed a large mug of cold beer in front of me. “Ah …. Um … I didn’t order beer …” “Yeah, I know. That guy bought it for you.” His eyes motioned toward a truck driver at the end of the u-shaped counter. My heart actually began to flutter, and my cock instantly sprung a boner as the driver’s eyes caught mine when I looked to see who was offering this gift. I quickly took in his bright, penetrating, bedroom blue eyes; a confident warm friendly smile, the slight nod of his head as he knew he had captivated my attention. It was as if my eyes were being pulled by a flesh magnet, and I couldn’t look away from his big boned sturdy body, his longish dirty brown curly hair, his five o’clock shadow: but, mostly, his loose fitting clean white t-shirt that someone had altered with pinking shears. The sleaves had been raggedly cut off with almost all the sides well down his torso. The neck had been cut into a deep v. Only small straps remained over his strong shoulders. The thick hair on his powerful chest spilled out the v and the slashed sides. The edge of one dark nipple peaked out for anyone and everyone to see. He was my perfect image of sexy! Knowing he had my attention he reached up through the bottom of his t and winked as he tweaking the semi exposed nipple. I knew I must be blushing as my face burned. The cute waiter flirtingly suggested I might need to cool down with a sip of beer. I picked up the mug in a toasting gesture toward my handsome admirer and mouthed ‘thank you’. He continued to smile, joined me in the toast by hoisting his mug, and mouthed back ‘enjoy’. My food arrived and I did my best to stay focused on eating it. About halfway through a presence moved onto the stool beside me. Between forkfuls I had resorted to guzzling my beer, my mug was almost empty. Placing his hand on my bare thigh (I always wear shorts in warm weather) he asked if he could buy me another. I quickly responded, “I shouldn’t.” As his hand left my thigh, reached up under his shirt, emerging into view through the v to rub his hairy chest he said. “Oh, I think you should.” And there was his captivating wink again. That’s when our cute waiter arrived with two more mugs. I knew I was trumped, we toasted our mugs and I watched as he proceeded to chug his beer. Glug, glug, glug … his beautiful Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. He expertly didn’t spill a drop. Seeing his mug empty I tipped mine to my mouth intending to take a large guzzle. I took too large a mouthful, choaked, and proceeded to spill much of the rest down the front of my shirt, soaking my crotch. As I tried in vain to mop up my mess, he ordered two more mugs. The waiter tripped as he arrived to deliver them. They smashed on the counter and sprayed both the trucker and me. Our clothes were soaked. What was left of that skimpy white t-shirt was now transparent. My eyes bugged out. He quickly pulled it over his head and wrung it out into his mouth. “Looks like we need to go to my truck cab and get out of these.” His eyes held mine. “Ah …. ah … ah…” I stuttered. He grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the counter. “Let’s go.” Before leaving he handed the waiter a crisp new $50 bill. “Keep the change.” His rig was covered with chrome accents and sparkled it was so clean and buffed. As he climbed to open the cab door my eyes looked directly at his round firm butt filling his tight blue jeans. He reached down to offer me a hand to help pull me up. The inside of the cab was as spotless and tidy as the sheen on the outside. He immediately moved into and invited me back to the spacious sleeping cab. He was already slipping off his jeans by the time I got there. Commando, I was confronted with his semi-hard thick cock. I froze into my typical deer caught in headlights. “Come on guy, it won’t suck itself.” he laughed. When I still didn’t move, he said; “Come on! You know why you followed me here.” I quickly dropped to my knees and engulfed his beer-soaked cock. It hardened and he fucked it deeper and deeper until it was hitting my tonsils. He only stopped when I started to gag and cough. He then stood me up, stripped me and bent me over his bunk. His five-o’clock shadow was soon scratching my ass cheeks and his tongue probing my hole. This continued for a deliciously long time. I was enjoying it so much that I was disappointed when he stood me, turned me around, pushed me on my back and pulled me forward so my ass was hanging over the edge. I instinctively lifted and spread my legs; the mushroom head of his now huge cock didn’t miss a beat as it started teasing my hole. “I need to see your face as I claim your hole man.” I couldn’t hide the fear in my voice; “Fuck, I don’t think I can take that.” “What you a virgin or something.” The lust grew in his eyes. “No. I’ve been fucked. My first time was six months ago, but there’s been nothing up there since.” “So, some other guy took your cherry. Damn sorry it wasn’t left for me.” “Well … um … actually seven guys. Peter broke me in, and the next day six strangers and Peter used me.” “Used you? Did you suck them.” “Well yeah … and they all fucked me and came in my ass … … several times actually.” “Nice!” With no further ado he hoarcked on his cock and his mushroom head breached my ring. One of his hands went over my mouth to stifle my scream. He started to push in little by little continuing to add spit for lube. I couldn’t take it anymore, grabbed his but cheeks and rapidly pulled him into me balls deep. The relief was almost instantaneous. It was his turn for his gorgeous eyes to roll into the back of his head. Then he kissed me passionately and started to thrust. Between his spit, precum, and my ass juices the lubrication was spot on. I wanted a video recording from my view of this gorgeous blond hunk looming over my prone body and pushing his huge cock in and out of my hole. He had amazing stamina. He would work himself up into a frantic state, so I was sure he was ready to explode and then he’d back off, as in slow down. He’d push in deep almost crushing me, hold it there and proceed to kiss me passionately for ten or so minutes. Then the fuck would continue. Frantic, slow, hold, kiss and repeat. Again and again. I finally confessed my legs hurt. He continued to fuck me moving me into three or four other positions. I was like putty in his strong hands and loved the feel of our naked hairy bodies connecting. A couple hours passed in these coital gymnastics. When he had me back in missionary his face disappeared into my ass for the most intense rimming I could imagine. When he stood, he was holding his huge, ridged cock pointed at my now aching hole. “You ready for the grand finally?” I just nodded my head. Even though it was hurting like hell my ass was so relieved to have him back inside. We both panted and groaned as he drove into me like a pile driver. He just went on and on and on. When I was beginning to think maybe he wasn’t able to cum, wondered if I was doing something wrong, he pinned me down, pressing my body into the mattress like in a vice, threw back his head, and his open mouth emitted a powerful groan as his entire body began to shake and shudder. My fingers found his taint as it was pulsing blast after blast as deep into my gut as his cum could reach. He collapsed with the full weight of his body onto me, and we both panted to regain our breath. I was surprised to feel the cab shift as I heard the door open. I realized company was arriving. Soon, the cute waiter appeared through the door of the sleeping cab. He was quickly stripping. “Fuck man, my smoke break is almost done. I knew you were still fucking as I watched the cab rock. I began to think I would never hear you cum man. Get off him. I only have time left for a quick pump and dump.” The trucker was off of me and the cute waiter in me before I had time to protest. Not that I thought of protesting. True to his word after about five quick pumps he was spraying my gut walls with his copious sperm. As quickly as he had arrived, he jumped off me, pulled on his clothes, and left. The trucker was sitting on the end of the bed grinning and stroking his huge hard cock. “How many times have you two done this. It was all planned out wasn’t it.” “Fuck yeah man. Dozens of times. I’ve been doing this route for four years. We manage this every two or three weeks. He’ll be pissed he had to breed you so quick. Help me out, would yah? Stick around ‘til the end of his shift.” I didn’t need convincing but his hot mouth on my ready cock made sure I wasn’t going anywhere soon. We 69ed for a good while before he was sucking out my ass. After he snowballed a good wad into my mouth, he lowered his hairy ass into my groin. My cock slid up and down his crack until he reached for it, aimed it at his hole and pushed it in with a deep sighing; “Fuck yeah man. I need this.” No lube. I fucked him in a number of positions for the next hour. How I held off that long I’ll never know. I finally asked; “I’m so fuckin close, where …” “In me, don’t ask, breed me.” I already had. As we were recovering his shortwave radio came to life. “Hey bud. By the rockin of your wheels it looks like you’re havin fun. You got some tail you’re willin to share?” He looked at me. “He’s another trucker, big bear, I know you’ll like what he has to offer.” Before I could answer he bounced out to the radio and called his friend to join us. By the tip of the cab as the door opened, I knew his buddy must be big. I still wasn’t prepared for the 6’4” 300 pound giant that entered shirtless into the sleeping cab. Every inch of his torso, front and back. were covered with thick black hair. His work boots, pants and underwear quickly ripped off, he was on top of me. Turning to his buddy he said. “I’m gonna assume he’s lubed and ready to go.” “Yup, mine, and one from our cute waiter.” His solid member wasn’t as long as our host but it was almost twice as thick. This didn’t stop him from ploughing into me with no preparation. For the next twenty minutes his sweating body and pounding tool dominated me. Our hosts once again hard cock was fed to my mouth. They both climaxed at the same time. I was given a pass for the next round. I was horny as hell watching our host trucker take a pounding and breeding from the massive bear. The bear then lay on his back and our host directed my cock into the deep, dark, sweaty, hairy hole. I was mounted again for a sandwich fuck culminating with yet another load pumped into me, mine into the bear and the bear’s hitting the cab ceiling and wall. “Holy fuckin shit. Look at the time. We’ve gotta get these rigs moving. Don’t forget to hookup with the waiter. He’ll be leaving from his shift.” The two rigs left the lot as I headed for my car still trying to wrestle myself back into my smelly beer stained clothes. The waiter was leaving the restaurant and called me over. He took me out back behind a dumpster and took his time breeding my ass. He didn’t worry about keeping quite and before I stood straight again four more strangers’ cocks had been in me and left their silky deposits. Tuckers, cooks, dishwasher; I had no idea. I could hardly walk. But, I knew I had made the right choice to leave my marriage and get as far out of my hometown as I could manage. To be continued

The next day dawn bright, hot and sunny once again. We spent the morning swimming and packing up our site. We didn’t bother with clothes, and oddly, nothing was said about the day before. About noon the two hunky cubs paddled up to our site. Their gorgeous hairy chests had me immediately springing a boner. I tried to hide it, but Peter was quickly kneeling in front with my cock down his throat. Both guys shucked their shorts as they confidently walked up to me and kissed me. Both had a hand on my ass and one of their fingers penetrated me. “Finally!” one exclaimed as he moved behind me. Peter moved off my cock long enough to say, “Dominate him, he’s just learning his submissive role.” The cub behind me needed no more encouragement. He spit on his 7 solid inches and plunged it balls deep into my tender ass. I screamed and it echoed down the lake. He didn’t wait to pound me, and it took a while for pleasure to mix in with the almost overwhelming pain. This transition was just started when he declared; “Take my fuckin load slut.” I couldn’t feel the load but the spasms of his cock and shudder of his body were unmistakable. Number two was immediately trusting into me. With the first guys cum as lube I didn’t want this onslaught to end. All too soon a long groan emitted from his mouth but clearly started from his groin and member unloading deep in my gut. Only then did Peter stand with some of my cum smeared on his lips. I must have unloaded without noticing. He was soon behind me and I was riding his familiar rock-hard tool. Only yesterday my ass had been a virgin, within ten minutes today I was impaled on my third raw cock. Two had already bred me and I was sure I wouldn’t be waiting long for load number three. And, I was loving this! After Peter came in me number two cub wasted no time crouching behind me and lapping at my sloppy hole. Number one cub joined him and licked the cum that had already dripped down my leg. I was bent over facing the lake and saw two canoes come around the point. There were four older shirtless guys who stopped paddling and were clearly mesmerized by the surprise sex show. Peter stroked his big meat and called out, “Come and get in the action if you want guys.” They quickly reached shore and were scrambling out of any clothes they had been wearing. The silver bear among them came straight to me and asked the cubs if they were prepping me for a fuck. “Nope’, responded the first, “Enjoying the three loads this slutty sub has already received.” “Then move out of the way, he won’t need anymore lube for this monster.” Only then did I realize his rock-solid rod was at least 12 inches long and thicker than a beer can. As he moved in behind me I cried, “I can’t take that!” “You can and you will, even if it splits you in two.” I was already screaming as the portobello mushroom head breached my outer ring. “Would one of you cubs do me? I always perform better if I’ve got a cock up my ass.” I couldn’t see which one stepped up, but from the silver daddies groan of pleasure I knew his rear door had been breached. It was only then that I noticed Peter was being spit roasted down by the shore. I short fat man the shape of a beach ball was giving the blowjob. An elderly pot-bellied guy was fucking his ass. Cub number 2 joined them, and his boner was soon planted in the old guy’s ass. My attention returned to the pain in my ass, which surprisingly was mixed with intense pleasure. I reached between my legs to find silver daddies’ huge raw cock was disappearing balls deep with each instroke. I could hardly believe this and was incredibly proud of myself at the same time. Cub number 1’s voice came over the intense sounds of sex all around the campsite. “I’m about to cum daddy bear, where do you want it.” “Fuck kid, no need to ask. Just breed me deep.” “Fuuuccckkkk Yyeeaaahhhh. Loadin your …” “Yeah, I can feel it …sending me over the edge.” Silver daddies’ unloading growl was in competition with the old guy breeding Peter. Pretty soon the beach ball fat guy’s cock was in my ass, and even quicker pumping his sperm into me. Only then did I notice the fourth of their party. A tall, slim, steely grey-haired guy I would guess in his mid forties. He was rolling a condom onto his thin straight 8” cock. I noticed a wedding band. His rubber clad cock was soon pistoning my slopy ass. It didn’t feel nearly as good as the raw ones, but my ass was thankful for the attention all the same. He fucked me for a long time. As he was doing so, I watched Peter pump a load into Cub #1. Cub number two bred Peter, and so did Silver Daddy. Then I felt the long slim cock slip from my ass. I heard the snap of the rubber as he removed it from his cock. He was already unloading as he pushed back into me. I was so fuckin happy I was getting his load that I didn't ask what that was about. My dripping ass became the centre of attention as everyone, excelt the tall slim guy, used, abused and bred me one more time. My hole would no longer close and cum was leaking out and down my balls and legs only a little slower than it had been pumped in. I was exhausted, but still able to keep track of the twelve loads that had painted my gut walls. I was dumfounded. Seven men had just used and abused me and the only one I knew anything about was my childhood friend Peter. How had I let this happen? Like a kid in a candy store I knew I wanted more as the three canoes paddled away. I turned to Peter. “I know we are supposed to go home this afternoon. But, after what just happened I can’t. I’m not ready to face my wife and kids. I understand if you must leave. I’ll paddle you to your car …” “No need. I’m here for you.” He was already unpacking the tent. As the sun set that night it was finally cooling off, so we lit a fire. We must have sat for ¾’s of an hour entranced by the dancing flames, not a word crossed our lips. Peter broke the silence. “Sorry bud. I think that was too much for you.” “Fuck yeah! How often does that happen to you?” “Not that much, sometimes, well enough. OK, often " he laughed. “I can’t believe that my ass was a virgin yesterday, and now 7 men have dominated and bred me.” “Fuckin hot, eh?” “Well yeah, but overwhelming to. And I just want more … … … How many guys have you had sex with?” “Oh shit. Lost track years ago. Hundreds, maybe even thousands.” “Holy shit! … … How can you be so comfortable with it?” “It’s just so natural for me. I started early and by 18 my brother, uncle and older cousin were fucking and breeding me three times a week. After leaving high school I play on a men’s soccer team. The first year I set the goal to suck off everyone of them before the end of the season. Exceeded my goal by also being bred by half of them and all our coaches.” “You’ve got to be kidding me.” “Nope. I just love sex with men, I’m addicted to it.” “What about your wife?” “What about her?” “Does she know?” “Let’s just say she gives me lots of ‘hall passes’, just as I do with her.” I let that sink in for quite some time. Then a question occurred to me. “Why did that one guy wear a condom up until he unloaded in me.?” “Not sure, but I suspect he wanted to lower his chances of taking something home to his wife. Did you see his wedding ring?” “Something home?” “An STD. Wife and I bring stuff home all the time. You’ll need to get tested after the sex circus we had today.” “FUCK!!!!!” “It’s no big deal. The clinics are completely confidential.” I was too exhausted to talk anymore. We sat in silence for another fifteen minutes before Peter quietly announced. “I want to fuck you, I need to breed you one more time before I fall asleep.” That’s how I fell asleep with 13 loads in my ass only the day after I lost my virgin ass to my childhood friend. ….To be continued

OMG, as a repressed gay teen, i spent hours in restroom reading the messages on stall walls, just sitting there and being amongst my people lol. No, seriously, i did. Those who did not grow up in an era of repression, where being gay and fucking could get you arrested and charged with a felony, may think it weird that we had sex in restrooms (read: "in hiding").

I awoke the next morning to the sound of splashing water. I climbed out of the tent to find Peter skinny dipping right off our site. I decided ‘what the hell’, slipped out of my shorts and dove in. After our swim we had a nice breakfast, checked the map for our day’s adventure and set out in the quickly climbing heat of the day. About halfway across our first portage we came upon a couple of very hunky, friendly guys camping. Even though it was before 11 a.m. they offered us beer. Peter was quick to accept and told them I didn’t drink beer. This was true and I was too shy to speak up and say that in the extreme heat I would give one a try. As the three of them talked and bantered I just grew more and more anxious. I began to worry I was moving toward a panic attack and excused myself saying I needed to pee and that maybe I’d take a swim to cool off before returning. I had a nice little swim, and when I thought it would have been long enough for them to have downed their beers, I headed back to the camp site. From a distance I could see they were having sex. Peter was in the middle being spit roasted. I couldn’t stop myself from hiding in the bushes and watching. One hunky cub pounded his ass as the other fucked his mouth. There was no doubt he was an enthusiastic participant. “Fuck, I’m so close!”, called the guy in his ass. “Breed him man”, responded the other. Peter reached behind to pull the guy tight into his ass as the tops howl made it clear he was having the orgasm of his life. The sexy cubs quickly switched places. Peter was now sucking and cleaning the cock that had just exploded in his ass and the guy fucking him quickly and loudly orgasmed. I was so turned on watching my childhood friend take two loads up the ass that I lost my balance and fell into the bush betraying my presence. Peter came over to help me up and as if nothing was out of the ordinary, he scooped some cum from his ass and fed it too me. By now they were all laughing. By the empties strewn around they had each had more than one beer. Again, I was offered a beer which I eagerly accepted and guzzled to try and hide my embracement. They each had two or three more beer to my one and soon the two cubs were pissing into Peter’s mouth and ass. I couldn’t believe what I was watching and just how none pulsed the other three were with their nakedness and sexual exploits. They acted as if I wasn’t even there. In my semi-drunken state, I finally encourage a very drunk Peter that it was time for us to move on. We returned to our lake, and I paddled the canoe back to our campsite with a naked Peter sprawled in the bottom of the canoe. As Peter slept off his drunken stupor sprawled naked out on a rock, I contemplated what I had just witnessed and tried to be honest with my reaction as my therapist had encouraged. Truth was, I had been incredibly turned on and deeply jealous of the other three for being so sexually liberated. As Peter came to his first words were, “I want to fuck you. I want to fuck your ass so badly.” “Shit man. Honestly, I want you to fuck me to. But I’m so fuckin scared.” He motioned for me to move over to him, took me into his arms, and held me in a deep embrace. I began to cry, and the crying developed into sobs and for the longest time I just wept and wept. Peter just held me tight and kissed the tears from my face until I calmed down. “Peter, I do want you to fuck me, but I’m too fucking frightened. Fuck, it’s not about want, I need you to fuck me. I need you to show me what I need. Just take me for God’s sake, just take me with your big, beautiful cock.” He took my face in his hands and kissed me so gently. He kissed the tears from my eyes and cheeks. He looked deeply into my eyes and gently said, “I want to fuck you, I want to give you what you need. Get out of your shorts.” As I disrobed, he laid back and invited me to sit on his face. I did as instructed and his tongue penetrated my hole. I instinctively bent and took his hardening cock into my mouth. He rimmed, fucked and chewed on my hole as I gaged and slobbered on his man meet. Somehow, I knew when it was time to turn and lower myself toward his powerful manhood. With one hand he steadied and aimed his cock and with the other he guided my hips into place. I felt and savoured the mushroom head of his cock teasing my hole. I couldn't believe this was actually going to happen. He just kept looking into my eyes and encouraging me with a gentle affirming nod of his head. Not a word was spoken but his instruction was clear. The pressure grew on my hole as I lowered myself further. Just as I wondered how much more pressure would be needed his turgid tool breached my hole. His tip was inside me, and fuck, did it hurt. I threw my head back in pain and agony. I was ready to jump up and off him when I felt his strong hands firmly grip my waist and exert pressure to pull my body down onto him. I was resisting and he caught my eye once again. Modeling deep beathing he continued to steadily increase the downward pressure. He slid into me ½ inch by ½ inch and I felt like I was being torn apart. He held my gaze and mouthed the words, “I want to fuck you, I want to fuck you so much.” I had reached my pain limit, I broke eye contact and attempted to stand up and flee. His hips anticipated my move and beat me as he thrust up and impaled me with the full length of his rod. I thought I was going to faint the pain was so fierce. Again, I tried to pull away, but his strong grip held me fast. “Breath deep, just breath deep.” Unable to do anything else I followed his instruction and like magic the searing pain transformed into amazing pleasure, or better, a hurt that just hurt so fuckin good. My face began to relax, and he broke into a huge ‘I told you so’ smile. I lifted my ass a little and then sat right back down. It felt ok so I did it again, stroking the raw cock into my ass a bit further with each try. My pleasure just kept growing as did his ‘I fucking told you so’ grin. Then suddenly his look changed to animalistic lust, and I was instantly on my back with my ass gaping. The feeling so cool and empty. He quickly pulled up my legs and pinned them to my shoulders. With his cock head once again teasing my hole through gritted teeth he said, “Now … I’m going to fuck you; I’m going to take what I want.” And he plunged into me knocking every ounce of air out of my body. The onslaught was like being hit by a train, and it didn’t stop, and the longer it continued the more I realized I couldn’t tell the difference between pleasure and pain. I just wanted it to go on and on. I was soon awash in the sweat rolling off his body. He was licking sweat from my neck and then biting my neck. Fuck I realized, he’s giving me a hickey. Then fear set in, he’s become a vampire. That’s when a warm sensation began filling my gut, I could feel every spasm and his growl of ejaculation vibrated throughout my body. He panted like a wild animal and crushed me into the rock with his powerful anvil. I began to wonder if he would ever stop. And then his voice rasped triumphantly; “I just fucked you; I just took what I needed. … And I just fuckin … stole your virginity. … now it’s time … for you to thank me.” And like a jack rabbit in one hop his still ragging hard cock was down my throat. The taste of cum, sweat and ass juices was intoxicating. When I had thoroughly cleaned his cock, I thanked him and asked how soon ‘til he would be ready to ‘go again’. He mounted me immediately, and although I didn’t think it possible, he gave me an even more brutal fucking and quickly pumped what felt like an even bigger load deep into my gut. Throughout the rest of the day, we did nothing but fuck and breed each other, eat, swim and start all over again. I fell asleep that night having pumped three loads into my friend. His cock was in my ass marinating in the five loads he had pumped into me. To be continued

I was ready for this reunion within the reunion to end. My childhood friend Peter was not. With two of my fresh loads in his ass he bent me over the sink as I protested, “What are you doing?” “Just returning the favour old friend, just returning the favour.” He couldn’t say anything more because his five o’clock shadow was scratching my ass cheeks as he devoured my virgin hole. Fuck, another first. I was so lost in the pleasure of this new experience that I didn’t notice when he stood. That is until his cock penetrated my unsuspecting hole. I screamed, pushed him out and away, pulled up my pants and ran down the vacant hall while trying to fasten my trousers. Without saying a word to anyone I fled the reunion and made my way to the closest hotel where I proceeded to get royally drunk. The next day I left town and swore I would never return. Over the next three years I met a wonderful woman. Within months we were married and by the end of the first year had our first child together. Deep inside I was filled with a profound disquiet. I hated that I was always on the lookout for shirtless men. I couldn’t hide from myself how turned on I was if their chests were covered with a thick mat of fur as was developing more and more on my own skinny chest. I grew more and more stressed until my wife suggested, and then insisted, that I go for some counseling. I have no idea what I babbled on about for the first four sessions, but there was no way I could tell this nice woman what was bothering me. One night I rented the video ‘Making Love’ and began watching it after my wife went to bed. When it came to the guy’s sex scene, I felt sick to my stomach, shut off the movie, grabbed a bottle of ‘Jack Daniels’ and drove off to a nearby private beach that I used for clandestine skinny dipping from time to time. I proceeded to rapidly down the entire bottle and got violently sick. Exhausted I fell into a fitful sleep and awoke cold as the sun was just starting to rise. I arrived home with my tail between my legs to be greeted by my wife. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you are scaring me and I’m afraid if this continues you will scare our son. I don’t know what you are talking about in therapy, but you better get to the root of what’s going on and fast.” Later that day, I entered my therapist’s office red eyed, and shame faced. I just cried and cried, weeping for the first twenty minutes. She calmly and patiently waited, from time to time reassuring me to ‘let it out’ and that ‘everything is going to be OK.’ Eventually, the words just started vomiting out of my depths. The movie spurring my drinking binge. My addictive attraction to men’s hairy chests. And, eventually, confessing my encounters over the years with Peter. “Have you ever told anyone before?” she gentle inquired. “NO!” “I see. Thanks for trusting me.” Over the next many weeks, I was eventually able to admit that I must at least be bisexual. I figured ‘I couldn’t have my cake and eat it too’, so I needed to resolve to push my attraction to men away and stay committed to my ‘good marriage.’ She patiently listened. Assured me I was a good man, husband and father. Only then sharing her doubts that I could just push the gay or bi feelings and needs away. When I finally relented that I thought she was right I asked her what I was supposed to do. “What do you want to do?” She patiently enquired. “Have it all go away.” “You’ve tried, how has that worked?” “It hasn’t. So, tell me what am I supposed to do?” “I can’t tell you what to do.” “But I don’t know where to start, or what to do next. I can’t tell my wife.” “You can’t tell her yet, but you’ll find the right time. In the meantime, you may need to do some experimenting.” “Experimenting? You mean have sex with guys?” “Maybe. But at least talk with some gay and bi guys.” She gave me contact information for a gay and lesbian support agency. I couldn’t bring myself to go and told her so the next session. She showed me a video of guys sharing their coming out stories. For the next three sessions we talked about my thoughts from the video. I finally admitted I found one of the guys incredibly sexy and his story of experimenting sexually with a buddy to confirm his desires incredibly exciting. “Then experiment with a buddy if you need to.”, she patiently encouraged. “But I don’t have a buddy.” “What about Peter?” “Oh, I couldn’t ask him.” “Then maybe you’ll want to hire a male escort.” “Shit, are you fucking kidding?” I had instantly sprung a boner and my heart was racing. As enticing as her last suggestion was the closest I could get was to look at escort’s adds in the back of a gay porn magazine that I found in a ditch. I couldn’t bring myself to pick up the phone. One weekend soon after this, I decided to get away for a solo backwoods canoe, camping trip. Surely, some solitude should help me relax. As I was unloading my car and packing the canoe another vehicle arrived. To my shock and surprise, it was Peter. What were the chances we’d pick the same weekend, wilderness area and start off point, let alone arrive at the same time. We decided to use just my canoe, but I insisted he bring along his own tent. We paddled for about four hours and found a great campsite just before the thunder clouds that had rolled in opened up with a deluge. As we rushed to get my tent up, I relented and told Peter, “get in hear out of the rain. We can put your’s up when the rain stops.” We threw everything in the tent and stripped to the buff out of our soaked clothes. I would have kept my underwear, but they were also dripping wet. I avoided looking at his nakedness and did the best I could to hide my raging hard on. As the rain continued, we talked about lots and awkwardly avoided the elephant in the tent ‘how we had parted the last time we saw each other’. The rain didn’t stop, we eventually rolled out our sleeping bags and slept naked on top of them. I feared I wouldn’t be able to sleep but the fresh air and exercise had worked their magic. The next day proved warm and sunny, so we set out in only swimwear to a close by waterfall. Rounding a corner, the falls came into view and we saw a naked straight couple romping below the cascade. We stealthily beached our boat and watched the couple as we hid in some bushes. I wanted to leave when they started having sex, but Peter was now wanking his big hard cock. I was too embarrassed no mater how much I wanted to stay and be a voyeur. I followed a trail, found a nice rock, sunned for a bit, removed my swim trunks, sunned some more all the time disquieted by what was going on at the falls just up the trail. My attention was not so much on the straight couple as images of Peter and his wank, which led to me remembering the awkward sexual sessions in our past. I had to cool myself down and jumped in for a skinny dip. Before I got out Peter paddled around the corner smiling like a Cheshire cat that had caught the biggest fattest mouse. “Fuck man, that was amazing. Why did you leave?” I avoided his question, scrambled to retrieve and put on my swimsuit and we resumed our paddle. After a great campfire and three glasses of scotch each we climbed into my tent. Again, it was sweltering hot, so we lay on top of our sleeping bags naked as the day we were born. An incredibly awkward silence ensued, and we both laid perfectly still for quite a while. That was until I heard Peter stir and his warm lips wrapped around my ridged cock. I didn’t say anything or move, I just let him service me. Eventually one of his fingers began to trace my hole. He only removed his mouth from my cock long enough to wet his finger which moved back, this time to gently penetrate my back entrance. This felt so good that I said nothing and continued not to move. His finger went deeper and deeper and was soon messaging my prostate. This drove me wild, and I bucked my hips driving my cock deep down his throat where I unloaded beyond his tonsils. I didn’t know the term at the time, but he moved up and snowballed a large portion of my protean which I instinctively proceeded to swallow. And to my surprise, loved. Without thinking I had his cock balls deep down my throat. I don’t know how he maneuvered it in the small tent, but he was soon positioned so we 69ed each other in mutual blow jobs. His talented mouth soon had me hard again. I matched his moves as we upped the speed and soon, we were synchronistic ally painting each other’s tonsils. When we gained our composure, he took my face in his hands and gently said; “I want to fuck you.” “No, thanks, but I’ll fuck you if you want.” Where I found the third load to breed up his ass is still beyond me to this day. Collapsing after my third epic orgasm I fell fast asleep. To be continued.

Definitely into this 😈

I don't mind sucking older guys either. I have a BBC regular that I suck off once or twice a week. He gets hard fast and loves using my mouth. He always feeds me a nice load. I also suck off a lot of older guys at the ABS through the gloryhole. Like others, as long as they get hard and shoot cum, I want it.

I love asians and latinos

Ya, virgin married ass is the best. Attached a pic of a married ass I fucked and bred for the first time. Guy was moaning and asking for more

My road to bareback slut owes quite a lot to three specific men. I started having sex like any good boy. Always safe, always condom. Then, my first "accident" with bb. A random hookup on grindr, a nice fuck in my car, with the small difference that he managed to convince me to go bare. And let him breed me. You can imagine the guilt, afterwards, but also the realization that for the first time i really enjoyed taking cock. That I had been hard and leaking all the time. But I swore. Too risky. Never again. Then, a few months later, I met this latino guy on Romeo. Went out a couple of times, ended up making out in a public park. Evening, nobody around, he had me lower my trousers a bit, started playing with my hole, then I went on top of him, straddling, the tip of his cock lovely nested at my entrance. In the midst of it, he just pushed. And I let him, till a pang of pain had me sober up just enough to say "not like this" and stop. But the seed was there. He just took a little bit longer to convince me ("hey, I am a nurse"), plus the clear statement that he fucked only bare. Of course, next time we met I was happily having him breed me. And that's when I learnt I could cum just by getting fucked. The third man is a dominant, lovely, sexy and fucking pervert man i met in chat. Openly poz undetectable, he taught me to open to all my desires and enjoy them. Including my cum hunger. After him, i completely stopped worrying about taking loads

The line between pleasure and pain is very thin. That is why the prep is so important. If I’m going out to be a cum dump, I’ll prep by not only douching but using my dildos which means I’m nice and ready… no matter the size of cock. If we are playing at home then it’s the same but this time it is part of the foreplay before the main cock attraction 💦💦💦

Bent over and my hungry fuckhole is all yours

Thats hot..

14 and never stopped since. And I swallowed at 14 and loved that too

It's still Sunday, and instead of saving this for next week, I've decided to give it to you now, knowing I left you on a cliffhanger. Enjoy! Part 40: Pastor Fucks Pastor (Pastor Kline’s Perspective) I sat in my living room, sick to my stomach, my mind playing over everything that happened since I saw Ben. He’d told me about his wife and the tension he had felt. He told me about how proud he was of Will. He told me about his son Jay and how he thought he was… free? I couldn’t understand why he had left the way he did. Had I said something I shouldn’t have? Was it possible that maybe he knew how I felt about him? Did he know that I’d only contacted him in the hopes of something happening between us? Did he know that I’m gay? Did he know that I’ve slept with his son? Did he know that his son had pozzed me? Did he— There was a knocking on my door, pulling me back from the catastrophe of the day. Another knocking brought me to my feet and running to the door. “Hello?” “Mark?” “Ben?” I unlocked the door, but before I could open it, the door flew open and Ben stormed inside, the door bouncing back. He pushed past me, his manner manic. He looked disheveled, his shirt untucked, his tie loosened. His hair was messed up. He looked so different from the man I had seen earlier that day. “Ben, what’s wrong?” “I can’t,” he said, moving further into my home, circling, pacing. “I can’t. I can’t.” “You can’t what?” I asked. “What’s wrong?” “I can’t keep doing this,” he said, turning to me, his eyes wide. “I just… I can’t keep…” “Ben, what’s wrong?” I grabbed his shoulders, trying to stop his moving. He was breathing heavily, his eyes slightly red. “Are you alright? What’s going on?” “I’m a horrible person,” he said. “What? No, you’re not.” “Yes, I am,” he said. “I’m horrible. I’m a horrible person.” “No, you’re not.” “I’ve always been a horrible person,” he said. “Ben, sit down.” I brought him to a chair, helping him to sit as he tried to slow his breathing. “Do you want something to drink?” “No,” he said. “I’m fine. I’m fine.” “Are you sure?” I asked, sitting across from him. He started to nod, but he quickly started shaking his head. “I feel… I feel so… so… ashamed!” “Why?” I asked. “Because,” he said. “There’s a darkness in my heart that I can’t remove.” “What are you talking about?” “I’ve tried to pray it away,” he said. “I tried to smother it. I tried to hide it so far down inside me so it wouldn’t come back.” “What are you talking about?” “My son,” Ben said, “I’ve always looked down on him. I’ve always looked at him as if he was something awful, someone who I should be ashamed of.” “I don’t understand,” I said. “What has Will—” “Not Will,” he said, staring at me, confused. “Jay.” “Jay?” Ben shook his head. “I always knew my son was wild. He turned from his faith long ago. He ran as far from me as he could. I built a wall up against him, wanting to distance myself from him and his choices. Whenever we speak, it’s strained. He hates me.” “He doesn’t hate you.” “He does,” Ben said. “I just spoke to him. I called him. Even before I could really say a word, he shouted at me and hung up. He didn’t even let me explain to him that I… that I…” “That you what?” Ben stared at me. “He doesn’t know that he and I are exactly the same.” “What? What do you mean?” Ben’s chin shook as he held back tears. “I’m not the pure man you think I am. I’m not good. I’ve… I’ve sinned. I’ve sinned so many times.” “Ben, we all have,” I said. “All men have—” “No,” Ben shouted, sending me back. “I’m not a good, pure man. Before you met me, before I went to college, I… I wasn’t pure. I hadn’t kept myself pure for my wife.” I stared at him, his words sinking in. “You weren’t… a virgin?” Ben hung his head. “I slept with my girlfriend at the time, but not only her. I slept with dozens of women. I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t stop. There was this… urge inside me. I couldn’t keep myself clean. My sexual deviance consumed my thoughts.” “Ben, you were a young man,” I said. “All young men, all men have strong sexual urges.” “But I’m not meant to,” he said. “I’m a man of God. I’m meant to be pure. I’m meant to resist all sexual urges, but I couldn’t. My son… my son is just like me. I see so much of myself in him. I see his choices as my own. But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is… is…” “Is what?” He looked at me, a tear running down his cheek. “I want to be him.” I leaned back in my chair. “What?” “I want to live like him,” Ben said. “I know it’s wrong. I know that I’m a married man with sons. I know that I’m meant to be a respectable man, a godly man everyone is meant to look up to, but that’s not who I am inside. All I want is what my son has. He is free. He sleeps with anyone he wants. He does whatever he wants without the fear of ramifications.” I watched in awe as Ben’s moral compass collapsed. I saw him crave the sin Jay and Will bathed in. I saw him struggling with the same darkness that had tortured my soul for decades. Never, in all the years I had craved this man, had I believed him to be as sinful as me. As sinful as Jay. As sinful as Will. Well, I thought, knowing the deepest secret we all hid deep inside ourselves, not as sinful as he might think. “I tried to tell my son,” Ben said. “I tried to confess to him, to Jay. I wanted to speak to someone, hoping he wouldn’t judge me. I didn’t want Will to know, to look at me any differently, but even Jay wouldn’t listen. He hates me so much that he doesn’t even want to speak to me.” “He feels hurt,” I said. “He feels—” “He’s gay,” Ben said. “What?” “Jay,” Ben continued. “He told me he’s gay. He said it as if it was one final slap to my face. He said it to hurt me. He said it to make me hate him.” Ben covered his face with his hands, his breathing heavy. “He still doesn’t know that… that I am… that I’m also…” I reached out and pried his hands off his face, holding his chin steady. His tearful eyes stared into mine. I leaned forward, moving carefully, and lightly pressed my lips on his. It was the moment I had always hoped for. It was the moment I had always desired more than anything. In that moment, I knew I was risking everything, just as he had with his confession. I waited, only my lips moving, only my desire made known. I started to pull back, my heart sinking, knowing I had read the situation wrong. I had been entirely wrong. “Ben, I—” Ben grabbed my head and pulled me into a deep kiss, holding me tight. I could taste him. I finally found myself pulled into the hold of the first person I ever truly loved. His hands let me go, our lips parting. I moved back, watching his face as I saw him thinking over everything he had just done. It was brief, but there was a small smile. “I hope I read that right,” I said, clearing my throat. Ben laughed, wiping tears away. “Yes,” he said. “You read that right.” “Good,” I said. “If I hadn’t, I would have just fucked up my life.” “That’s funny. I was thinking the same thing.” “Don’t worry,” I told him. “I won’t tell anyone anything. I promise. Your secret is safe with me.” Ben nodded, collecting his composure. “Can I tell you something?” I asked. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. I mean, a long time. Decades.” “Really?” Ben said. “Well, I can’t exactly say the same thing, but I’m flattered.” “Haven’t you ever… you know… been with another man?” “No,” Ben said, a bit too loud. “I’m sorry. No, I haven’t. Like I said, I only ever slept with women. Then I got married. After that, I’m ashamed to say, I slept with several more women.” “From your church?” “No,” he said. “Never someone I knew. I only ever slept with women who were strangers to me, women I’d never see again. I couldn’t silence my urges, but I made sure the truth wouldn’t hunt me down.” “The truth always does,” I told him. Ben nodded. “At some point in my life,” he said, “there came a time when my sexual urges started to change, to transform. I started noticing the men around me. I started feeling a sexual pull toward them. I tried to trick myself into believing that it was only because I had started to keep myself contained. I had tried, once my sons were born and growing, to keep myself true to my wife. The way she treats me now is how she has always treated me. I’ve always found myself running from her. I tried to believe that she was the reason for why I felt this way toward other men. I prayed. I prayed for God to silence the urges, but they wouldn’t disappear. Instead, they grew stronger. I lusted after the men of my church. I wanted them. I tried to create scenarios in which one of them would find himself alone with me, discovering desires they never knew they had. I wanted another man to want me.” “But you never did?” “Never. I fought hard, especially once Will became a pastor. I didn’t want to shame him, but everything Jay did with his life only fueled the fire inside me. I saw the life he lived, and I wanted it. I wanted it so badly. My wife and I haven’t had sex in years. My urges started to grow stronger. For some reason, as we talked today, I found them rising back to the surface, stronger than ever before.” “And your son being gay…” “Jay and I are more alike than I already knew,” he said. “I think I owe him an apology.” “Maybe,” I said. I reached out my hands, holding his. “Now that you’ve told me all of this, what now?” “What do you mean?” “I mean, what do you think you owe yourself?” Ben looked deep into my eyes, and I got lost in his. “I'm here with you,” he finally said. “If you’ll have me.” I smiled, nodding. I stood up and started toward the stairs, Ben following behind. As we walked, I started to unbutton my shirt and undue my belt, Ben following my lead. I wanted to relish the sight of this gorgeous man stripping his clothing, revealing himself to me for the first time. Here we were, two men of God, casting off the costumes that we wore for the world, revealing to each other the true passion beneath. “Are you sure?” I asked as we reached the bedroom door, only our underwear remaining. “What does this tell you?” Ben grabbed the back of my head and pulled me into a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue exploring my own, tasting me. We stumbled into the bedroom, and I fell back onto the bed, looking up at the gorgeous man standing in front of me. No, he wasn’t as fit as Will or Jay, but he was just as hairy, and his body was, to me, the greatest sight I’d ever seen. I pulled my underwear off, revealing my body to him, allowing him to see the man he had revealed his soul to. Ben smiled as he looked at me, filling me with an overwhelming rush of joy, almost orgasmic. “I hope you won’t be disappointed,” Ben said, moving his hands to the waistband of his underwear. “I could never be,” I said. “You could never disappoint me.” He slid his underwear down, letting them fall to the floor, kicking them out the door and into the hall, grabbing my own and throwing them out too. I stared at his body, my eyes falling down to his magnificent cock which was already getting hard. It looked as if he was the thickness of Jay but also the length of Will, creating the perfect example of a penis. His balls, the source of two of the sexiest men I knew, hung low and were of a considerable size. “What do you think?” he asked, reaching down and giving his dick a tug. “I think it’s the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen,” I told him. “No wonder you fucked so many women. With a cock like that, what other choice do you have?” Ben smiled and then climbed up onto the bed, hovering over me, looking down with a burning passion I couldn’t wait to be consumed by. He leaned down and kissed me, his body pressed against mine. I was consumed by his warmth, my hands reaching for his back so I could pull him down on me. I wanted to ravage him, to explore every aspect of his body until there wasn’t anything of Ben Ryder that I didn’t know by heart. “Wow,” he said, breaking the kiss. “You have really wanted this.” “You have no idea,” I said. Ben looked down at his cock, a steady stream of precum leaking out. “Looks like I won’t be needing any lube. Unless, you have some…” “No,” I said. “I’m fine. I trust you.” Ben smiled, kissed me again, and then pushed himself back up, towering over me. He looked like a god. “Ready?” “I’ve been ready for years,” I told him, my legs lifted up, revealing my hole. “I’ll go slow,” he said, directing his cock head toward my puckered hole. “Don’t,” I told him. “I can’t wait. I need you inside me.” Ben smiled and then pressed his cock against my hole, forcing his thick, burning dick into my body. I felt myself shaking, months of being fucked by Will, Peter, and Dom not enough to open my body to a man as magnificent as Ben. “Are you alright?” he asked. “Keep going,” I said. Ben hadn’t mentioned anything about a condom, and I didn’t want him to notice as the high of the moment had not yet disappeared. If I kept him inside of me and got him fucking my ass, he’d fail to notice, and I’d feel him shoot his load deep inside my guts. I could feel every inch entering me. I watched as his face contorted to the waves of pleasure coursing through his body as he entered me, filling me. “Fuck me,” I told him, his eyes meeting mine. “Fuck me hard.” Ben smiled. “I’ve waited so long for a man to tell me that,” he said. He started thrusting into me, his cock hitting my prostate and driving me wild. Everything I had felt when I had been fucked by Will was multiplied as the man of my deepest desires drove his cock deep into my body, filling me in ways no one else ever could. I watched the sweat pouring down Ben’s face, admiring his heaving chest as he kept up the pace, drilling my hole. He fucked just as well, if not better, than the men half his age. He was everything I ever wanted, and now I had him. “Oh fuck,” I moaned. “Oh, fuck me!” “You like that?” “Fuck me harder,” I cried. “You want my load?” he taunted. “Here it comes.” I was lost in the moment, knowing that I was to be filled with the seed of this righteous man. Every hope I had ever had in connection with this moment was being fulfilled. “Dad?” I heard the voice, and I instantly knew who was standing in the doorway. I sat up, grabbing for sheets, trying to cover myself as my eyes rested on the shocked expression of Will Ryder. I watched as he looked from me to Ben, time slowing down around us. Ben climbed off the bed, turning to his son, his cock, swelling from his needed release, ejaculating ropes of his cum all over the floor. ___________________________________________________________________ I tried several versions of how to get Ben to this point and into Pastor Kline's bed. I hope this didn't disappoint. I know there's a lot of dialogue, but I felt it was needed. I couldn't just have Ben jump into bed with no consideration for how he got there. Anyway, thanks for reading this far!

Wow, some of you guys are really piggy. I've fucked in some bad places but not as bad as some of you. I was passing through Council Bluffs, Iowa once and stopped for the night. I went to a local ABS to try my luck. I had screwed a guy the night before in (I think) Evansville, Indiana, picked him up at an ABS and took him back to my motel room. Hot ass, nice fuck. Following night in Council bluffs things were slow, mid week, not much action at the ABS. Finally hooked up with a guy who wanted me to go back to his apartment to fuck. I followed him there and it was obvious that we weren't exactly in the best neighborhood. We entered the building and it was a dump, guys passed out in the stairwell, others passing around 40s of beer and smoking something in little glass pipes. The guy I was with seemed to know them all and they were saying shit like "oh boy, homey gonna get some tonight." One guy says damn this dude got a nice ass, another says he must have a big dick too or homey wouldn't be bringing him home. Others were trying to sell us drugs, the guy I was with just told them no, we're good, don't need nuffin. We went up the stairs to about the 3rd or 4th floor and then down a hallway to his apartment. He opened the door and the smell hit me. Garbage everywhere, fast food bags, beer cans, wine and liquor bottles. We walked into the kitchen, it was bad. There was a syringe on the table amongst the garbage. He asked me if I wanted to get high. Umm, no thanks, I'm good. He went into the bathroom and a couple of minutes later came out, I'm sure he probably shot up some dope in there. I was standing there looking around in amazement, this was not exactly the social setting I was accustomed to, he came up and started trying to caress my cock through my pants. Problem was it had retreated so far into my body as to be undetectable due to an extreme case of paranoia and my entire body and soul screaming get out of here, NOW. I told the guy I wasn't feeling well and left using a different set of stairs that came out on the other side of the building. Another time at a truck stop in Arizona. It was summer and the lights of the truck stop attracted swarms of some kind of big ass beetle. The pavement around the fuel pumps was yellow/orange color from all the bugs being ran over. They stunk like hell. I went into the bathrooms and they were gross. I stepped up to a urinal and pissed, then noticed a guy checking me out through a hole in the shitter booth wall. I turned toward him and shook off my rapidly hardening cock then asked him if he wanted some of that. He opened the door of the booth and I stepped inside. He was a nice looking guy, well dressed, and had his pants down. He turned around and presented a sexy ass so I fingered him a bit and asked him if he was clean. He said yeah, I'm just here looking for dick. So I went down on him for awhile then lubed us both up and we fucked. Those big gross beetles were crawling around everywhere, even landing on us as we fucked. Someone pulled the door open and a couple of truckers stood there watching us. I slapped away a few bugs, grabbed his hips and buried my cock as deep in his guts as I could get and flooded his hot ass with my cum. I pulled up my pants and left the stall, another guy entered to take up where I had left off. I hate bugs. But I like ass more than I hate bugs. Another was a mobile home I bought real cheap in a trailer park. My plan was to clean it up, fix whatever needed it, and flip it. This place was gross. The carpet had evidently never been cleaned, it was full of grease, cat piss, dog shit, baby shit, and who knows what else. The smell was ammonia like and made my eyes water, I could barely stand going in it. It would actually make me nauseous. Our usual approach was to strip the carpets out, paint the floor with a couple of coats of Kilz paint to seal in the smell, paint the walls, fix plumbing and wiring, new carpet which I bought in the form of remnants from a carpet store for pennies on the dollar, and then sell it and carry the note myself which was the real money maker. I had a fuck bud who I used to hire to do most of the work. I was showing him what I wanted done and he said it was undoubtedly the grossest place he had ever worked on, but he still thought we should knock off a quicky before he started and we could do a real fuck after he had it cleaned up, got to break in those new carpets ya know. He deep throated me until I was hard and then I tongued his hole while getting him ready and bent him over the filthy bathroom sink and sunk myself to the hilt in his hot fag ass. Our fuck was hot as hell, I think the grossness of the place made it more erotic, the feel of his ass against me, my balls slapping against his, it was one of our best fucks ever. I came and then stayed buried in his ass until I softened and pulled out, my cum gushing out of his fuck hole. He went down and started licking me clean while jacking his sizable dick and soon he came on the floor. I told him to add that to his to-do list, clean cum from bathroom floor. He laughed and said "yes boss." I've been in ABSs that were pretty bad. But that odor of cum and man sex is like an aphrodisiac to me and draws me in.

Worst comedown and feel like shit with massive migraine

I love kissing and it's absolutely necessary for a hot encounter. For the same reason I love bareback, I love kissing. Intimacy. Kissing as part of foreplay gets me hard and ready for fucking. The hottest kissing involves snowballing cum. If a guy swallows my cum I want him to kiss me so I can taste it.

Chapter 4 – Now it’s my turn In Chapters 1 through 3, I told about meeting up with Geoff, a hairy guy with a great playroom. He had a sling and lots of toys for our use. We’d partied and fucked each other with toys and fists. While we were relaxing and getting some more liquids in us, Geoff suggested that we both do a booty bump to amp up the fun. Between the smoking and slamming we had already done, this would move us up to the next level of spun. We each picked out a nice-sized shard and then shoved them in each other’s asses. Geoff put mine in, and I soon felt the burn. I’m sure he felt the shard melting in his ass too. We gave it a few minutes to kick in; then I got back in the sling with my ass ready for more. Geoff first massaged my hole with his lubed hands, getting it ready for his fist. He’d move down for a lick occasionally, eliciting a deep moan from me. He worked fingers from both hands in and was stretching and stroking my open hole. He added more lube to his right hand and pushed it into me. Between the earlier work and the T flowing through my body, it was an easy entry. He twisted and expanded his hand in my ass, getting to all the right places. He’d draw his hand back, almost to the point of leaving my ass, before plunging it in again. While he had me stretched out, he’d rotate his hand, letting me feel his knuckles just inside my ass. Then, Geoff popped his hand out of my ass, leaving my hole gaping. He put his fingers in my hole and used his hand as a funnel to direct lube inside my ass. The cool lube felt great inside me. He pushed his right hand in and distributed the lube around my ass. At the same time, he was using the fingers of his left hand around his wrist. He’d slide a finger in alongside his wrist and circle around my hole to stretch it out even more. He added more fingers slowly until he had all four fingers inside me next to his wrist. At that point, he pulled his right hand back and put his hands together to really stretch out my hole. Damn, the feelings were amazing! Geoff kept checking with me that I was OK with what he was doing, and I encouraged him to keep going. He pulled his left hand back to add more lube but soon got it back next to its mate, twisting and opening my ass like never before. Geoff suggested a deep hit of poppers. I knew what he was planning. I took a double hit in each nostril and gave him a nod to go for it. While we were staring into each other’s eyes, he slid both hands into my ass. This was a new one for me. Knowing that I was getting double-fisted by this hot stud made my ass pulse and my cock shoot out more cum. Geoff’s hands were busy in my ass, so I scooped up the cum and fed him some, and then ate some myself. The double-fisting was intense, and I could only take it for a little while. Geoff slowly worked his right hand out, leaving his left one inside me. He gently circled my hole with his fingers, getting me to a more relaxed state. At that point, he was able to pull his hand out and repeatedly pound back into my ass. I was swinging on the sling, adding to the depth and excitement of what we were doing. We slowed down, and Geoff eventually took his hand out of my ass. Without asking, he shoved his semi-hard cock inside my gaping ass. He was able to fuck me a bit but was really after something else. He asked me if I wanted his chempiss and I told him to let it fly. He buried his cock as deep as he could. I could see him concentrating on getting his piss to flow. Soon, I felt the spreading warmth as he filled my ass with his piss. He kept his cock inside me for a bit, then pulled out and put a butt plug in to keep the liquid inside me. I felt the rush from it, less potent than the slam or booty bump, but still making my body react. Once he pulled out, he pissed some more on my stomach, which was really hot. I ran my hands through it and licked some off my hands. Geoff leaned down and tasted some too. My cock added more liquid, but it was more cum than piss. We shared some of that too. I collapsed back in the sling, feeling totally spent. Geoff went over to the bed and laid down on it. Once I felt stable enough, I got out of the sling, went over to the bed, and laid down next to him. We made out for a while, feeling each other’s cocks and asses. I stuck my nose in one of his armpits and got into licking out the sweat from there. He played with my nipples and ass while I was doing that. Eventually, we both slowed down our play. While we couldn’t sleep for a while, we just cuddled and talked. It turned out that we had a lot in common besides our need for partying and ass play. Once the sun rose, I got dressed, kissed him goodbye, and went home. The next time should be even more intense.

#2 cums the closest to what I like, as a bottom. I like to have a top fuck me as long as possible, until he can't hold off any longer. When I feel him fucking me more and more slowly, I know he's ready to explode. Then, I want him to plow his cock in deep, slowly pull back, then really give it to me, with long, hard strokes.

The first guy that took my virginity when I was 13 yo was in his 60s or 70s. I’ve craved older cock ever since then.

I think there's an important feature to successful spitroasting - the tops have to work together to use the bottom, and not act independently. Spit roasting is usually less than ideal, and you have to choose whether to focus on the blowjob or the fucking, because once you're getting fucked, Top #2 shoves your face into his crotch without moving or adjusting, syncing up with the rhythm and movement, and just going straight for the deepthroat on the first plunge and holds it there too long. That said, when the tops are good together, and not just separately simultaneously, the oral component helps deepen the piggery. It's cognizant of breathing differently when getting pounded from behind, it's rhythmic, and it syncs well, then I am just in heaven.

Love reviving and giving. Extra points if the guy sits on my face whilst rimming. Even more if he has a big arse. I used to do it a lot with my ex, rim his hole until sloppy then tease it with my cock. Repeat until my head fit inside him then lube up my cock with spit and fuck his brains out.

8. Oscar Sunday, the day after Eddie’s death and Father Lucius’ suspicious disappearance, is a warm summer morning. High above the island, a few gauzy clouds caught in a light breeze stretch across the deep blue sky. Wave crash softly beyond the dunes on the empty beach. Out at sea, miles east of the lighthouse, a regatta of sailboats race each other blissfully unaware of the horrors that have fallen or are ready to fall on a few residents of this cursed island. Jaxton knocks on the shack door. Peeling flakes of pink paint fall from his rap onto his sandals. A few moments go by before Tommy answers. The door creeks open and Tommy stands naked, rubbing his eyes. The slightest suggestion of crinkles in the corner of his eyes show his thirty-five years on this earth. Over his shoulder, Jaxton zeros in on Eros’ hairy ass lying face down on the futon. “What’s up?” Tommy scratches his hanging balls. Jaxton looks down at all his tattoos focusing on the red demon above his plump cock. Points. “That one is definitely your finest.” “Oldest one I have. What’s up?” Tommy repeats. “Mac says he doesn’t want the steaks he had for Eddie and Father Lucius to go to waste.” “Uh-huh.” “I can grill them for you guys. If you like.” “Hey, Eros. You up for a steak breakfast?” “Course,” he says, stirring from bed. He sits up with an impressive morning wood. “When?” Jaxton calculates in his head, slightly distracted by Eros’ enormous erection. “Um, maybe twenty minutes? I can fix them with some eggs. Uh, steak and eggs?” Eros yawns. “Sounds good. How’s Jesse?” “Sleeping,” Jaxton lies with a smile. “See you in twenty.” Tommy nods and closes the door. “No way that’s the same dreadlock bro from yesterday.” “Nope.” Eros gets up, goes into the bathroom and lets out a powerful stream of piss. “So he get brainwashed or something?” “Dunno.” Eros emptying in the toilet bowl makes it sound like Niagara Falls. “We should check on Chewy.” “C’mere first. I need my dick sucked.” Tommy is nothing if not accommodating. He walks in the bathroom and kneels before Eros’ dripping cock. Looks up. “You gonna drink my piss after?” “Course.” * Dante swings opens the pink shack’s freshly painted door. “Lasciate ogne speranza,” he says with his ironic smile. “Say what?” a fresh faced, twenty-five-year-old Tommy asks, peering inside. It not a bad place. Small, maybe, with a boyfriend the size of Eric. But it’s better than hiding out in the Bronx apartment avoiding Eric’s brother like he has for the past six months. “It’s something I wrote long, long ago: Abandon all hope,” says Dante, sweeping his hand into the shack. He’s the same height as Tommy, has the nose of a falcon, sad, alert eyes, and a cruel, straight mouth. “Lascia—uh.” Eric tries to repeat Dante’s phrase. “Lasciate ogne speranza,” pronounces Dante slowly, fingers pinched together, gliding through the air like he’s threading a needle. “Hope—it means—forget about it,” he laughs. The two boys’ stare at him curiously then scrutinize their possible future living arrangements. The taller one is dressed in a blue shirt, grey slacks, and white Converse sneakers; the blond one with long stringy hair is in jeans and a black t-shirt that reads, “FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING FUCK.” Dante sometimes questions Mac’s hiring choices. Both are nice to look at, though. The taller one is strong, but afraid of looking unintelligent—no, Dante thinks, mulling the adjective “unintelligent.” No, his fear is looking crazy. (Dante, if nothing else, is specific in how he writes about people.) The tall one is very beautiful in a very masculine way. His father, Dante muses, is a good father, wrestles with his sons after a hard day riding on the back of a sanitation truck. The mother, however, would be an exquisite beauty, the youngest and prettiest of three sisters, but extremely neurotic. Dante imagines the taller one’s family is allowed only to patronize restaurants that have male waiters, no waitresses—the mother wants no competition. There are no mirrors hung anywhere in the house. This neurosis would grow worse over time as her looks fade. Eventually she cannot leave her home lest people think her not still beautiful. Even her family would be discouraged to lay eyes on her. “What, what are you looking at?” she would say to a violator of this unwritten rule, her fingers fluttering in front of her face. It would be ingrained in him, this fear of growing old, of being judged by others. Like a bit of sand stuck in an oyster: a quality that becomes, over time, either a beautiful pearl or a malignant cancer. Pearl or cancer—TBD. The smaller one, quite defensive, is even more damaged, with many sharp edges to his personality. An early loss of a father is written all through him. He imagines life, Dante observes, squinting his aged eyes to read him deeply, life to him is a poker game and he has to get through it with only four cards to play whereas everyone else has been dealt five. Why? When did the damage occur? What becomes of him? * A teenage Tommy holds his skateboard in one hand while washing beach sand off his foot with the other. A few feet away there’s a middle-aged guy in sunglasses, slim but not skinny, shirtless, alone at a picnic table eating a burger and fries. Tommy, nose burnt and freckled from the sun, sets his skateboard down; his bare toe pushes it back and forth. He’s staring at the burger when the guy suddenly says, “Want one?” Tommy realizes the guy’s speaking to him. He didn’t know he was staring so intently, but he didn’t have breakfast—rarely did. He’s taken to slipping out of the house before his mom and her boyfriend, Conrad, get up. Extremely wiry kid back then, looks at most fifteen even though he isn’t. He still gets carded buying cigarettes, but his I.D.’s legit. The middle-aged guy doesn’t know that—just sees a skinny kid staring at him. Tommy rides the short distance over to him on his skateboard. The rubber wheels crunch over the gritty concrete. “Alright,” he says, taking up the guy’s offer. Guy gets up and puts in an order to a pimply girl at the snack bar window. While he’s away, Tommy sits at the table and shoos off an aggressive seagull trying to steal the guy’s last remaining fries. After a few minutes he comes back with a burger and fries in a plastic basket. Tommy lodges his long, straight hair back over his ears, says thanks, and then gobbles the burger noisily. That amuses the guy, the noise Tommy makes. Tommy’s downing a couple fries at a time when the guys asks his name. He looks over the guy in sunglasses for a second. “Tommy,” he says between French fries. “Perry Rosen. Esquire. How come you’re not at school, Tommy?” “Cause it’s Wednesday and I don’t go to school on Wednesdays,” he ad libs. Really he hasn’t gone to school since winter break on account of all his D’s and F’s. When Conrad smacks you for being snide at Thanksgiving dinner, you kind of lose interest in the future. Besides, what fucking business is it of this guy? “What are you—a truant officers? Why aren’t you at work?” “Because I’m on disability.” Perry tosses his last fry to the pushy seagull who nabs it mid-air and flaps off. “You like video games?” Perry lights a cigarette from his pack and offers one to Tommy. Tommy accepts it and stashes it behind his ear. “Gee, mister, what kid doesn’t like video games?” he gushes sarcastically, finishes his burger. “You gonna offer me candy next?” Perry laughs and raises his sunglass onto his brown wavy hair to get a better take on the kid. Tommy sees his brown hair matches exactly the color of his eyes. He presents Tommy with an appreciative smirk behind those watchful eyes. Tommy doesn’t trust this clown one bit, even if he is grateful for the meal. “You’re a smart ass, huh?” Tommy dangles a fry over his mouth and lets it fall in, not answering. “Fact is, I bought the new Grand Theft Auto.” “Awesome.” Tommy says sarcastically, but that tidbit has his attention. “You like some [banned word] picking up young guys at the beach?” “Nope. Just bored playing GTA by myself.” He flicks his ash, which tumbles over the concrete. Tommy senses what he says might be true, but still eyes the guy suspiciously while he finishes his fries. “C’mon. Let’s go.” Perry gets up. “I’ll drive you home afterward.” He puts the empty baskets on top of the trash bins. “You live around here?” “Yeah. Massapequa.” Tommy skates trying to keep up with Perry. He’s not all that bad looking, Tommy thinks, as they wind through the parking lot. Making an effort to get beside him, he observes his strong jaw, pointed chin, and a sly cat-like expression whenever he glances at Tommy—and he glances at Tommy a lot. On the skateboard he’s almost as tall as the guy, otherwise he’d probably be up to his nose. “You skate all the way to the beach?” Tommy nods, says, “Yep.” He takes the cigarette from behind his ear, cups his hands to light it. “This is me,” Perry says, as Tommy looks up. They’re stopped at a silver Mazda Miata. An older model but still makes an impression. Tommy skates around to the passenger side and gets in holding his board. There’s a blue Mother Mary plastic statue glued to the dashboard. He raises a dirty blond eyebrow at Perry. “Not guilty. Well, I am Jewish so I’m always guilty. But Mare was there when I bought this off an old geezer. Bad juju I figure if I break her off. Besides she’s looking out for me at the road. So what harm could there be?” He releases the roof hook on his side then reaches over Tommy and unhooks the other hook. “’Scuse me,” he says, leaning very close to Tommy. Tommy catches a whiff of coconut-smelling suntan lotion mixed with the musk of sweat. When he pushes the roof back, Tommy spies a small tufts of wet dark curls in his armpits. Perry pulls his sunglasses down, starts the convertible, revs the engine, then squeals out of the lot. Tommy hastily buckles in and hugs his board like a security blanket. The Miata roars down Ocean Parkway, taking the roundabout faster than any of the other cars. Perry pushes in the lighter and pulls a cigarette from his pack with his full lips. The ashtrays he opens overflows with butts. “So how old are you, Tommy from Massapequa?” he hollers as he guns the engine passing one car after another. “How old you think I am?” Tommy yells back. “Thirteen.” Perry eyes wrinkle with a smile behind his aviator frames. “Fuck you. Eighteen.” “You don’t look it. No hair in your pits that I can see.” He looks over at Tommy. Tommy lifts an arm to show him. “Some. It’s just blond. Why you care?” “I don’t. Prove it.” “What, that I’m not thirteen?” He gets out his I.D. and pushes it in the guy’s face. The lighter pops out and Perry press the glowing coil to his cigarette, glances at Tommy’s I.D. “Looks fake.” “It’s not.” Tommy slides it back in his cutoffs. The wind does a number on his hair making it flick in his face. He tries to put it behind his ears without much luck. He takes a hit off his cigarette and blows smoke into the turbulence. Looks out as the beach houses, scrub brush and dunes as they zip by. They drive for a while not talking. The guy seems to like weaving in and out, overtaking cars, which scares and exhilarates Tommy. He gives Perry a couple of sideways glances. Doesn’t look like a predator. Figures he’s in his forties, seems to keep in shape, has a few random dark hairs on his sternum, but smooth and deeply tan otherwise. He could be a high school track coach, if a high school track coach chain smoked. They pass over the Great South Bay Bridge. At the top of the bridge they’re flying so fast Tommy feels like any second they’ll take off and soar into the sky. Construction on the other side of the bridge and a stalled truck cause Perry to hit the brakes. As they squeal to a stop, he puts up a hand over Tommy’s chest to protect him. His hand falls back on the gear shift after he makes a detour to feel Tommy’s thigh. “Didn’t scare you, did it?” “Fuck no.” Tommy picks up the pack off the dashboard and takes another cigarette and light his old one with this new one. Perry looks at him and tries not to laugh. They ride the streets of Islip for several minutes, until they pull into the driveway of a two story apartment building: open garage parking on the first floor, apartments on the second. Tommy tosses his cigarette as they pull into a parking spot. Perry crush out his butt in the ashtray. “Be it ever so humbles,” Perry says, getting out. Tommy climbs out of the convertible, notices a Triumph motorcycle parked next to the Miata, wants to know if that’s Perry’s. It is, Perry confirms, as Tommy follows him up the back stairs. With the sunlight fading, Perry hold his set of keys close to his sunglasses, finds the right one, and unlocks the door. He usher Tommy and his clutched skateboard inside. It’s stuffy and smells like stale beer and cigarettes. Not surprisingly, on the coffee table there’s an ashtray brimming with butts. There’s an old, green couch with leopard print throw pillows and a La-Z-Boy over in the corner; a big screen TV sits on a stand opposite, with a DVD and VCR players underneath; unmarked DVD cases and video boxes are stacked on the sides. A swivel chair sits in front of a monitor on a desk, with game controls, and a PC tower adjacent on the floor. A framed Lion King poster adorns the hallway leading to the bedroom. It’s one of the only movies he love, a movie his mom—pre-Conrad—took him to when he was eight. “You like the Lion King?” Perry doesn’t answer. He’s quickly trying to clean up. Above the monitor there’s a huge framed photograph of the Savanna with a lion, lioness, and their cubs lying on a vivid green plain. He gets up close to it. In the corner there’s a small signature. Perry Rosen, 1999. “This really Africa?” Perry says it is as he’s closing a draw. He sets down his sunglasses and pack of cigarettes on the kitchen pass through. Tommy’s uneasy with what he sees in the dining area. A camera on a tripod, and in back of it are two stand holding up a dark grey backdrop. The backdrop spools to the floor behind a stool. A light on a stand aims at the backdrop, unlit. “What’s that?” Tommy wants to know. “What’s it look like?” Perry answers. “Like something a [banned word] would have in his apartment.” “Guilty as charged. But just a hobby.” Perry takes a cigarette from his pack and lights up. He turns on his monitor, boots up the game, and sits in the swivel chair and starts racing around the screen being chased by police cars. Tommy stands in back of him, still holding his skateboard. He’s familiar with the old 2D version of the video game—he’s played it often at friends’ houses—but this version is the new 3D one, and is so much cooler. For an old guy, Perry’s a pretty impressive gamer. He’s on it for a long time, screeching, shooting, before his avatar gets killed. He makes a big deal as he ceremoniously hands over the controls and the chair to Tommy. “Show me how it’s done, champ.” Tommy climbs in the chair and Perry watches him play. He cheers him on as he goes through various levels racking up wanted stars, money and guns. When Tommy fucks an in-game prostitute—racking up his health score—he turns around and shoots the whore to get his money back. Perry roars in astonishment and claps him on the shoulder. “You are one sick little fuck.” Tommy smiles in spite of himself. “I didn’t know you could do that,” Perry says. “I didn’t know I could do it either. Until I did it.” Tommy’s got a line of cop cars and helicopters chasing him. He gets distracted by the sound of a click, wipes out and his game character dies. He tosses the gaming controls on the desk and hears another click. Perry has his camera taking photos of Tommy. “My bubbee would have said something just like that.” He continues taking pictures of an increasingly annoyed Tommy. In a Yiddish grandma voice, he says, “’You never gonna know what you can do…unless you do it.’ She was all about taking changes, my bubbee.” “What are you doing, man?” “Taking a chance. Look how serious you are. Like a cross teddy bear.” Perry clicks several more times. Tommy holds up his hand to block Perry. “Ten bucks,” says Perry. “Aw, come on. Let me take a couple more.” He flips on the light on the stand. The brightness highlights the dinginess of the room: pale blue walls; a yellow water stain on the ceiling; burn marks on the checkered blue and grey linoleum floor, with a few more burn scars on the coffee table. “You serious? Ten. Just for some pictures?” Tommy asks distrustfully. Perry opens his wallet and takes out a ten dollar bill. “I said it was my hobby. Look.” He hands Tommy a photo album, dangling the ten out of Tommy’s reach. Tommy opens the album and flips through it. Page after page is of boys. None of them particularly good looking, just pretty average Joe’s; a few chubby ones, some even skinnier than him, like boys he goes to school with. Toward the back of the album he comes across a red flag—shirtless men, some with tattoos, some showing their hairy butts and, on the last page, some full frontals of pretty rough looking guys that look like they’re about to pounce on the photographer, fists clenched. “I knew you were a [banned word].” He gives back the album. “No. The boys are all legal. I have learned my lesson, your honor. Like I said, it’s just a hobby.” “Yeah, well, I gotta go.” “Five minutes and you get a ten spot.” “Not interested.” “You don’t have to, like, take anything off. You’re cute just in your trunks with your angry teddy bear face.” Tommy frowns and snatches the bill from Perry’s hand. He clutches his skateboard as he climbs on the stool. As Perry positions the camera framing Tommy tight, he says, “Would a smile kill you?” “Yes.” He grips his skateboard tighter to his chest. Perry takes a couple of photos then pleads with him to lower the skateboard, an inch, two inches. Tommy reluctantly does, looking stern and a little embarrassed. “Mind if I put on some music?” Perry asks. Tommy shrugs. He pops in Green Day, holds the camera close and moves with the music. Tommy thinks he’s such a doofus, the way he dances with his camera. It makes him sneer. “That’s it.” Perry starts clicking rapidly and sings with the song, “Don’t know where it goes. Yeah, curl that lip.” Tommy can’t help let escape a small smile at how dorky Perry is. “Gorgeous.” Perry’s really getting into the music and teasing Tommy with the camera. “I walk alone,” he sings getting the camera up in Tommy’s face. Tommy pushes the camera away and Perry swings it right back, taunting him. Perry falls to his knees looking up at him. “That’s it. Show me that distain. How fucked up is Tommy’s world?” Scorn is easy for Tommy to fall into. “That’s it. More. I walk alone.” Tommy leers at the man. “Go ahead, spit on me.” That takes him by surprise. “Say what?” “Yeah, or like you want to." Tommy considers what he asks. He feels the guy’s completely serious, so he spits on him a little just to see what he’ll do. It pushes Perry to a new passionate level. He starts clicking away like mad. “That’s it, that’s it. You think I’m some kind a loser, don’t you? Disbarred lawyer living in a shit hole like this. Come on, spit on me, motherfucker! Take it out on me—your fucked up little cunt!” Tommy sees he really gets off on this—and he doesn’t like what he’s saying—so he builds a big wad of saliva and hocks it at him. It lands on the guy’s forehead and runs down his face. “Wonderful!” Perry looks up from his camera. “That’s going to be a great one.” Perry puts the camera back on the tripod, shaking his head, more than a little embarrassed. He gets out a tissue and wipes his forehead and cheek. Tommy honestly doesn’t know what to make of this guy. Something reminds him how he drives his car, the fast-shifting moods. Something exhilarating being around him. “You’re a freak, dude,” he tells him. “Yes, I well aware of that.” He lights a cigarette. “I think you got a little freaky-deaky in you, too, Tommy from Massapequa.” He throws him the pack. Tommy pulls out one and lights it. He tosses the pack back to Perry. “What you said about being a disbarred—” “Yes, yes. I plead the fifth, your honor,” he says. Going into the fridge, he pulls out a couple of beers, offers one to Tommy who takes it. “What’d you, like, do?” Tommy pops his beer while exhaling smoke through his nose. Perry turns red face. He pulls the corners of his lips down in a mock sad face. “Uh, moral turpitude,” he says. Tommy doesn’t know what that means, but seeing Perry’s expression after he releases his lips—it’s a complex face he doesn’t know what to make of: angry, embarrassed, defiant, challenging—he knows he should drop it, but he persists giving Perry a quizzical look. “What’d ya do?” “Okay-okay-okay. Let’s just say, it’s why I wanted to see some I.D. from you. I’m not going up the river on a second offense.” There’s something shady, almost criminal, in way the guy’s eyes dart back and forth looking at him. It looks like he’s weighing what he’s going to do next. That same fear and thrill Tommy felt in the car. Tommy’s trying to decide if he should be wary of this guy or if he’s attracted to this side of him—he definitely feels danger coming off him. He’s never been presented with a choice like this before. Sure, he could walk out, but he decides he’s not going to. The guy could be a little deranged and he might like him more because of it. Perry smashes out his cigarette. “So,” he says, frighteningly normal-looking again like none of the past few second ever happened. “May I have my last two and a half minutes, please?” he asks, holding up his camera. Tommy shrugs his shoulders, puts out his cigarette. Perry pivots and puts on an old, scratchy Supremes record. As the music takes a hold of him, it seems to make him more stable, more average Joe, thinks Tommy. As Perry adjusts him on the stool, he sings to him: “Baby, baby…baby don’t leave me.” Tommy can’t help grin, if for no other reason than he’s relieved the guy’s like he was before. Perry is ready to shoot, but with his hands on his hips, the camera hanging on a strap around his neck, he says patiently, “Ya know, as much I love the street urchin look, can I get you to just brush your hair? Just a little?” “No,” says Tommy. He’s back to comfortably frowning at Perry. “Okay, wear this then.” Perry hands him a green knit hat. Tommy pulls it on. “Ah, you look like a cute little elf.” Tommy pulls it off. Now his hair is mussed at all angles. “Perfect,” says Perry, and starts shooting. Tommy gives him a disapproving glare, which Perry eats up. “Yeah, yeah. Right. You are so fuckin’ beautiful, Tommy. Has anyone ever told you that?” He stops, expecting an answer. Tommy’s not about to respond. Deeply scowls instead. “Well, you are ab-so-lutely stunning.” Perry grinds his hips to the music. “I’ve got this burning, burning, yearning feelin’ inside me.” He grabs his crotch and tease Tommy. “Ooh, deep inside me.” He pumps his hips at Tommy. “And it hurts so bad.” He steals a kiss. “Hey!” Tommy hops off the chair and pushes Perry backwards. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry,” Perry shakes his head in shame. “I know. Bad Perry. Perry very, very bad. Never do it again.” Tommy’s more in shock than mad. He can’t tell if Perry is acting or really is just a complete mess—he’s on his knees begging for forgiveness. “Here,” he says, pulling out his wallet and handing over a ten. “I promise you. Won’t happen again. You can hit me if I do.” “I don’t want to hit you, dude. I need to go.” “No, don’t go. I’ll put away the camera. I got some dynamite pot. We’ll watch a movie. I’ll order Chinese.” Tommy purses his lips. Perry turns off the music and the light on the stand. “Really. Any movie you want.” He pats the couch. “Come on. Sit.” Tommy sits at one end and Perry flops down at the other. He digs in his cigarette pack and produces a rumpled joint. He lights it, takes a big hit and hands it to Tommy. He pushes off the couch and goes through the DVDs under the big TV. “So, what do you feel like? Girl on girl, boy on girl?” He gives Tommy his sly-puss sideways glance. “Boy on boy?” “Straight,” say Tommy, as nonplused as he can. Perry pops in a disc and sits back on the couch. Tommy tokes and leans in to give him back the joint. The movie comes on. Cheesy graphics spin in the title: Anal Angels. Tommy throws him a disparaging look. “What? It’s Charlie’s Angels except they like it up the butt. Where’s the harm?” They watch for a while, passing the joint back and forth, while busty babes get rammed by a tattooed biker and an immensely endowed Black guy. Five minutes into it, one of the “angels” take both guys up her ass. It’s in extreme close-up, right between their pumping dicks. Perry starts rubbing his trunks where a rising lump is building. “I don’t’ know about you, but this is making me really horny. It won’t bother you if I rub one out, will it? I promise, line in the sand.” Perry draws an imaginary line between the couch cushions, between himself and Tommy. Tommy acts nonchalant and makes like he’s cool with it, even though he’s getting horny too. The double-dicked angel seem to be really enjoying how much it’s ripping her ass apart, and, with the pot loosening him up, and Perry beating away, he thinks he should lighten up, too—maybe pull out his dick. Never mind he’d be jacking next to a guy. Honestly, he’s done it a few times before at a few different buddy’s sleepovers, after they’ve been drinking, looking at Penthouses, and getting trashed on weed. Doesn’t happen often, but it has happened. So why not? Tommy guzzles his beer, then pulls down his pants and starts whacking along with Perry. He focuses strictly on the screen getting himself hard. He knows Perry’s looking over at him but he stares straight ahead. Then Perry stops jerking, leans over, and slips his mouth over Tommy’s cock. This first time a warm, wet mouth takes in his dick makes him almost cum instantly. With his palms pressing into the couch, he looks up at the water stain on the ceiling and then down at dark wavy hair, feeling the man’s soft tongue swirling around his cock. How good it feels, how stoned he is—Perry’s spittle sliding down his shaft, wrapping around his balls. As Perry bobs, Tommy places his hands gingerly on the man’s hair. His dick’s really wet and Perry amazingly manages to slide his cock deep down his throat, all the way down till he’s swallowed his cock down to Tommy’s sparse blond pubes. Perry wraps his hand under his balls and plays with them, then strokes Tommy’s cock with a clench fist. He looks at Tommy. “Feels good, yeah?” Tommy moans lightly as Perry swirls his palm around the head of Tommy’s cock, gripping him harder. “Like it, son?” Something about calling him son triggers him. “I’m cumming,” Tommy breathes a second before he releases. Perry increase the pressure of his palm and takes in Tommy’s dick head and swallows all the cum Tommy’s gushes out. Tommy claws the edge of the couch and buck wildly with Perry continuing to swirl and suck as he continues to spew. He thinks Perry will stop after he finishes cumming but he’s still slurping away way long after he’s climax. “Stop. Dude!” He pushes Perry’s head off him. Perry picks up his beer and lies back. “Time was,” Perry says, swigging some beer, “back in the Jurassic age, I’d have charged you twenty for that.” Tommy sucks back some of his beer, too, and looks at the screen avoiding Perry’s eye contact. The man’s evaluating him, he feels it. Doesn’t know what more he could want. Perry finally turns away and watches a new “angel” in a sling, legs spread wide, pussy lips hanging and red gaping butthole pushing open. The Black guy is greasing up his hand and slides grease in her butt. Slowly he slides this entire hand into her red gape. Perry starts beating off again. Tommy sits there stunned that the girl can take a hand as big as the Black guy’s. Tommy sits with his mouth open and his trunks still at his ankles, his dick hard as metal. The angel writhes and shrieks, encourages the Black guy to fist her harder. Tommy’s mesmerized, eyes glued to the screen with Perry’s spanking his cock beside him. Perry reaches a hand over and fondles Tommy’s cock while he beats his own. “Payback time,” Perry sings. He turns to Tommy. “Twenty bucks, you do that to me.” “Huh?” Tommy looks at him confused. “No seriously. I want you to stick your hand up my butt. Fist me just like that.” “That’s not possibly.” “Well.” Perry pauses masturbating, and begins to cross-exam Tommy: “First of all, your initial response is you didn’t say no. Secondly, see, she’s doing it, so you can clearly see it's possible. And finally, I like it. More than like it. I love taking a guy’s fist. But if you don’t feel like it, I can always get online after I take you home, and find someone who will. But I’d really like it if it was you. Easy twenty.” “I doubt if I can.” Perry claps excitedly. “Sure you can. I’ll lead you through it.” Perry steps out of his swimsuit, very erect. “Leave you trunks on the floor. God you’re hot!” He takes Tommy into his bedroom where a sling’s set up, one very much like the one in the movie. A can of Crisco is clipped to one of the poles. Perry plugs in red chili lights strung around the sling, and climbs in placing a leg in each of the hanging straps. The room is all reds and shadows. The sling’s chains sparkle. Perry skin shines, his pits and crotch are dark as midnight. “You’re going to be great. Okay, put Crisco all over your hand. Now take a wad and push it into my hole.” Tommy follows his instruction, can’t believe he’s about to do this, but completely intrigued by the idea of fisting someone. Pushing the wad of Crisco into Perry, it’s the first time he’s ever touched a man’s asshole. He can’t say he’s repulse—actually the opposite—it’s the softest thing he’s ever felt. He hears the actress in the other room continue to screech in what sounds like pleasure and agony. “You sure about this? It’s gonna hurt you.” “Yes, and?” Perry says. “Now make your hand like this,” he instructs, pointing all his fingers together. “Slowly push on my hole. No, don’t let up. That’s it. Keep going in.” Tommy loves how silky Perry’s hole is, like velvet. He takes two greased fingers and traces the asslips in a full circle, much to Perry’s satisfaction. The guy’s gushing him with praise. “Like a duck to water,” he’s says, as Tommy penetrates his entrance. The hole relaxes open as he pushes in. He penetrates him without a bit of grimace from Perry at all. “Aw, fuck baby, you make my hole sing!” Perry reaches up to a hanging sack dangling from a support bar. It clanks from a number of bottles inside. He pulls out a brown bottle and takes a hit from it. He offers it to Tommy, who doesn’t know what it is, but follows Perry’s lead. Perry holds one of his nostrils as he sniffs, then the other. There’s a cloud that forms in his head that overwhelms him, a desire to push his whole hand inside Perry hole, a relishing at how nasty this is, amplified by how much he loves the filthiness of this. Perry’s lying back looking at the ceiling coaxing Tommy to continue going in. Tommy doesn’t need any encouragement. He loves the way Perry’s sphincter opens for him, creamy as rose petals the touch of his skin. He’s up to his third knuckle before Perry says to wait a second, let him get used to his hand, but Tommy ignores him and keeps pushing in. Perry’s breathing rapidly through tight lips, murmuring obscenities, when Tommy breaks through. He glides his palm in, diving straight into a cavern up to his wrist. Perry’s sphincter clamps around him like a handcuff—he’s captive in a way he’s never been. Perry’s breath slows, his face melts in total bliss. “Fuck,” Tommy says, surprised at the accomplishment. His hidden hand feels all wet and warm, slimier than anything he’s ever felt. When he wiggles his fingers, Perry’s eyes roll up in his head in painful pleasure. Perry uncaps the bottle again and Tommy leans forward wanting another hit. Perry gives it to him, as he instructs Tommy to fold his hand into a ball. Tommy does and Perry tells him how good he’s doing, what a natural he is. “A star is born, baby!” Perry heaves in ecstasy, sniffing his bottle. “Streisand’s got nothing on you!” Tommy tries variations he witnessed in the movie. He pulses in and out of Perry’s hole. There’s so many cross-currents of tissue rubbing across Tommy’s fist, like he’s guiding his hand through a spongy cave, ramming his hand through a winding tunnel of flesh. He withdraws his fist almost out then pumps back in. “Aw, fuck me, you own this hole. Anything you do, just remember I feel it times a hundred.” Tommy pulls his hand out, slides more grease into Perry loose asslips, and follows through with his fingertips re-entering the hole. “Yeah. Go deep. Yeah, deeper.” Tommy does and finds Perry’s rectum is an amazing, pliable object that has its own set of rules. It’s like he’s suddenly handed the game console that controls another man’s body. With his fingertips, he twists them one way and then the other, which makes Perry twitch and cry. He lets the palm of his hand glide against the walls in a one-eighty, then reverses. He feels a bump at the top of this man cave. He lets his fingers dance against it. Perry is twerks on his hand like crazy. “You found my prostate. No! Don’t squeeze it,” which of course makes Tommy squeeze it. Perry jerks in the sling. Tommy feels powerful, in command for possibly the first time in his life. It starts to get a rise out of him. His dick’s straight out, aimed at Perry sloppy hole. As he pulls his hand out, he replaces it with his erection. It slides in like he’s fucking warm butter. It’s like his cock is in warm, viscous mud. Like he’s fucking mucous. All the imagery bombarding him makes him harder. “Slide your hand inside with your cock, if you can,” Perry suggests, looking up in Tommy’s direction. He’s cross-eyed in exaltation, unable to see the boy in the red shadows, but feels every inch of him. “Aw, fuck,” he exclaims, as Tommy slips his hand inside, surrounding his penis with his hand. “Jack off in me, baby.” Tommy does. The act is sick and feels so good, and brings such pleasure to Perry who hitting the poppers like a maniac, offering Tommy some on occasion. When he does get a hit, he goes crazy deep into Perry, whose loving every second of it. Perry starts jacking again, hard as a rock. He gives Tommy the three-second warning and points his dick straight up. Tommy, straight off a hit of poppers, eagerly bends down and takes the man’s cockhead in his mouth. Perry explodes his semen immediately, which Tommy swallows. The clenching rectum spasms as Perry orgasms. Tommy’s first swallow of cum and how good his cock feels whacking inside a sloppy hole, makes him gush again—a second time within an hour. Tommy pinches off every last drop, then slowly pulls out a slick hand and wraps his fist around Perry withering cock. “No, please don’t.” But Perry’s begging makes Tommy smirk and stroke his cock harder. Perry bounces like a marionette in the sling, jingling all the chains, pleading to Tommy to stop. He takes pity and reluctantly lets him off the hook. Tommy jumps up hanging from the top bar of the sling with his non-greasy hand, swinging back and forth making monkey sounds. “I knew you were a freak, baby. Saw it in your eyes the minute you skated over to me.” Tommy drops to the ground, scratching his armpit, still making monkey sounds. “No really, you could make some serious coin doing what you do.” Tommy still feels the saltiness of cum in his mouth, the buzz of the poppers, the lingering euphoria of the pot. Looking at Perry resting in the sling, he wonders what it would be like to switch positions. He smiles, beaming contented for the first time in a really long time. Perry’s focusing now, finally coming back to earth. “Baby, you got a knack. And I’m not just yanking your chain.” He awkwardly reaches Tommy’s cock and pulls on it. He flops back, looking at Tommy admiringly. He needs work, he realizes, but the raw talent is there with a little dash of crazy. “Listen, I get fisted all the time. Sometime I’ll pay for it, sure—and I definitely will pay for that. But you must think bigger. You have got the right amount of nasty and recklessness that some men like, that some men seek out.” He leans forward as much as he can with his legs still suspended. He grabs Tommy’s ribs. “Come here.” Perry reels him in. Tommy flops like a ragdoll over Perry sweaty, slick torso. He allows himself to be kissed repeatedly by Perry all over his face—doesn’t kiss him back. He grins smugly, regarding him like he’s full of it. Perry notes his reticence. “Alright. I can work with that.” He releases Tommy who stands there, even now, with his half-hard eighteen-year-old constant erection. “We need a name on your profile. Tommy's too boy next door. We need to get you geared up in leather, introduce you to a little S&M, get pics of you on a few nasty sites. I bet there’s a ton of men to hook you up with. They’d gladly line up to be disciplined by a hot skater boy like you, grovel at your feet. You put them through their paces, all right, and they’ll be happy to pay for the privilege.” Tommy scowls at him, thinks this is all bullshit. “Yeah, just like that. That cross teddy bear face.” He inhales suddenly. As if his name appeared to him on a movie marque, Perry sweeps his hand across the ceiling for Tommy to read: “Oscar. You’re garbage to him.” Perry lies back dreamily grasping the chains above his head. Tommy spies the wet dark tufts in his armpits. He slips his semi-rigid dick back in Perry’s dripping hole, and leans over to lick his pits like he’s wanted to since the car ride. “That's right.. Get piggy, boy.” Perry takes control of Tommy’s head, holding it tightly in his pit while Tommy sucks on his sweat-drenched curls. “Clean it up. Lick all of it. Oscar, we are going to make one hell of a fortune, you and me.” He guides Tommy's head over to suck out his other pit. “We need just one tweak.”

7. Prey for the Sinners It’s night. He’s naked and disoriented. He stumbles barefoot through the swamp. Toads croak all around him. Snakes slither through the bog. Gliding by, one caresses his bare ankle. Dark outlines of lifeless trees everywhere. Each stride is a slog. Loud, slurping sounds accompany each step. Is he going the right way? He keeps falling deeper into the mire. Black ooze surrounds him up to his thigh and getting higher. All too quickly his cock and balls touch the mud and then, with his next step, are sucked down, invisible below the surface. He feels things down there. Unseen things. There’s a large creature beating overhead, a demon hovering with a massive wings above the treetops. It creates great gusts of wind over the brackish water. The disturbance bring up waves that crest over his chest, splash over his collar bone, get in his mouth. He’ll drown, he frets. The night might swallow him whole. Something rises from the center of the swamp. A face discernable only by the shape of a skull, is bone only. The sockets have eyes but there is no skin. A cowl hangs around the figure’s neck. The cloth, a muddy robe, drips with muck. The skull glides toward him. The wings above grow louder, closing in. The skull opens its mouth with an eyeless serpent slips out. It plops into the water. He feels it circling his body. It pokes and prods, searching for an orifice to penetrate. He feels it wrap around his chest, crushes the breath out of him. Its head surfaces, writhes before his face, swaying in an eyeless dance, weaving its lips across his. The serpent’s darting tongue violates his mouth, tunnels in before he can stop it from slithering down his throat. Beating wings crescendos into a scream. It's him. Screaming. Eros and Tommy shake him, tell him to wake up, what’s wrong, it’s okay. It’s a cascade of words he clings to, uses them to climb out of the terror. Tommy and Eros kneel on the futon, each holds one of his a bare shoulders. Jesse recognizes their faces, dives his arms around their necks, clutches them so tight he could snap them off. “Okay. Christ!” Tommy says, pulling off Jesse’s strangling arm. He coughs a mirthless laugh weighted by concern over the dopey kid. A strong wind bangs the blinds; cold, misty daylight seeps in. Jesse eyes ricochet around the shack. He’s alarmed because he still hears the same sound of wings beating from his dream. Eros searches his face, holding it reassuringly. “Just a dream, Chewbacca.” His perfectly imperfect smile is soothing, a balm to his fears. Jesse realizes Eros’ face is wet, his dark hair dripping. “Can’t imagine why you’d be having nightmares…or day-mares.” He poses the question to Tommy, seeing if that’s a word. “Day-mares?” “The fuck should I know. At least he stopped yelling.” “What’s that whopping sound?” Jesse crawls on his knees to the windows—the noise comes from the beach. “Rescue helicopter landed a few minutes ago,” Tommy says. He points to the dunes. “This morning just keeps getting better and better. Gleason’s being airlifted out by that chopper.” Eros joins Jesse at the window. “He had a heart attack at breakfast. Right when we got back from…you know.” “All that fucking coke he did last night. And he’s a cow,” Tommy adds. “They’re about to fly him out.” "And you owe me a pair of work boots.” Tommy points to solidly caked boots at the door. Next to them sit Eros’ muddy—formerly white—sneakers, the ones he wears when he cleans the pool. “We’re in the outdoor shower when we hear shouting.” “Shamu keels over, clutching his heart and falls into the pool. He’s lucky Eros and Mac think they’re deep sea divers. They jump in and fish him out.” “Mac's puts in a bunch of calls. Gets the Coast Guard out here. And then you starting screaming like a banshee. Helluva morning.” Suddenly the pool area comes alive with commotion, voices, rattling metal wheels. The side gate opens. Jesse scrambles to the door with Tommy and Eros right behind. Two EMT workers wheel Eddie down the path strapped to a gurney. The actor’s frozen, his fingers claw the rails, an oxygen mask over his wet face. His eyes open wide in terror and pain. He glances at the three of them, pleading—something—with his eyes. Mac and a newly-clipped Jaxton follow directly behind the gurney. Eddie’s lifted off the walkway ready to be taken to the helicopter. One of the EMT guys holds up his hand. He’s too far away to hear what’s being said, but it’s enough to turn Jaxton and Mac away. Jaxton, with his new short blond hair, is almost unrecognizable lacking the curtain of dreadlocks always covering his face. “They’re taking him to the county hospital,” Mac says to the three of them. “Why can’t I go with him?” Jaxton petulantly demands behind Mac’s shoulder. Mac shakes his head. “I’ll call the hospital. Once he’s stabilized we’ll take the boat over.” “You’re too kind, Mr. McPherson,” Jaxton says, glumly. Jesse scrutinizes Jaxton’s new look and recognizes Mac’s handiwork. He was never of fan of Jaxton, but, man, the guy looks like he could be one of those Calvin Klein poster boys now. Not jacked, but one of those really thin models, all cheekbones, like no one ever is in real life. He doesn't even slump, which of course makes him even taller. Mac puts a hand on the gangly kid’s shoulder. As he’s taking him back to the house, he stops, turns back to the shack and asks if any of them have seen Father Lucius? Jesse, Tommy and Eros begin a chorus of huh-uhs, nopes, and head shakes. “Odd,” Mac says, studying their faces. “No one’s seen him since he went upstairs with you, Jesse.” “I noticed there’s a missing kayak.” Eros helpfully points to the rack of canoes and kayaks next to the side gate. Mac pauses. Considers it. He looks up at the milky sky with the trees rustling in the wind. “Not really a great day to take out a kayak. Really choppy ocean, I bet. Seems he would be back by now, though, don’t you think? All this aerial activity.” He points at the Coast Guard helicopter taking off. All three again are all shoulder shrugs, don’t knows and maybes. Mac gives them a quick sideways glance. Shakes his head. He smiles at Jaxton and tweaks his nipple. Jaxton returns a breezy smile. He stretches his arms in the air like he’s just waking up, and they go back through the side gate. Tommy gapes his mouth at Eros. “’You’re too kind?!’ The fuck was that? * The morning mist never really burns off. After Eddie’s evacuation there’s a calm pervading the compound. It’s almost too quiet. The filter hums while Eros skims leaves from the pool. He looks uneasily at the monk’s room’s wall of windows. Twigs crunch underfoot as Tommy picks up armfuls of broken branches scattered around the yard from last night’s storm. Inside the silent house, Jaxton and Mac huddle in the office, lowering their voices when Jesse walks by. He changes Eddie and Jaxton’s bedding, disinfects the monk’s rubber sheets and replaces them with a paisley cotton percale. Then, an hour later, Mac’s office phone rings. The hospital regrets to inform that Eddie is dead. Mac gathers Jesse, Tommy and Eros together to let them know about it, and that they can take the rest of the day off. If they wouldn't mind, he asks them to watch after Jaxton while he makes calls on Eddie’s behalf. The sky’s steely gray when the three of them get to the beach. A sedate Jaxton in the long swim trunks that Eddie hated, tags along. He keeps his beach towel a little away from theirs. It’s like he wants to be alone, but there’s not much point on an empty beach. Eros and Tommy body surf in the rough water, and Jesse, in his white briefs, lies face down on his towel between their two beach chairs. He listens to the breaking waves for a while, then hears, “You know what a usurper is?” Jesse looks up from his towel—Jaxton’s propped up on his elbows watching the guys attempting to ride the waves. “Huh?” Jesse gets up and turns on his side. “What’d you mean?” Jaxton studies the two men. “That kind of turbulence isn’t made for catching waves.” He pauses. Looks at Jesse. “You’re like a fifth wheel. I think they tolerate you, maybe even feel a little sorry for you. But they’re definitely not into you. Not like you think.” Jaxton thinks for a moment, then adds, “except maybe to abuse you.” “What do you know.” Jesse gets up and flops into Tommy’s chair, near Jaxton’s towel. He digs into their Yeti cooler and pops open one of Eros and T’s beers. “You don’t know anything.” He sips. Tommy and Eros are bobbing in the waves, splashing each other in the face. “Why, did they say something?” “No,” Jaxton says. “I can just tell.” Eros and Tommy trudge out of the surf, then happily race back dripping with sand-crusted hair. “Gnarly,” Eros comments to Jaxton. “Am I right?” Jaxton give him a wan smile. “I suppose.” Jaxton stares at Eros’ naked body as he dries himself. Tommy eyeballs Jesse in his chair. “Out.” “And who says you could take a beer?” Eros barks. Jaxton throws Jesse an I-told-you-so look. Hurt, Jesse offers the beer up to Eros who tells him to just keep it, but ask next time. Jesse rises from Tommy’s chair. He toes on his flip flops, throws his sandy towel across his shoulders, and shuffles off toward the lighthouse. Maybe Jaxton’s right, he thinks, sipping his beer. He does sometimes feel like he overstays his welcome. Like the other night, hanging out with them, watching a Frasier re-run on Eros’ phone. Did they mind him falling asleep, spending the night with them? There’s gulls screeching on the rocks of the lighthouse. A trawler bounces near the coast line; seagulls swirl and dive around it. He drains the rest of his beer. Mist overtakes the trawler and grows thicker. By the time he hits the rocks it’s disappeared in the rolling cloud. He rarely comes to this end of the island. No one does. The lighthouse lantern lights up and a fog horn moans ushering in the bank of fog. He rattles the dregs of the beer and tosses the can between the rocks. Looking up at the tall structure, he watches the fog encircles the catwalk. The lamp's beam slowly rotates. With the fog rolling in, it seems he hears the ocean crashing on the rocks rather than sees it. The fog chills him and, though it does little good, he pulls the towel tighter around his shoulders. He tries the lighthouse door and discovers it's unlocked. “Hello?” he says cautiously opening the door. Met with silence, he inches into the room. Inside it’s murky but there’s still a bit of afternoon light remaining. He feels for a switch but doesn’t find one. Instead he discovers the table at the entrance holds an old kerosene lamp and matches. He lights it and the hollow space illuminates with the lanterns yellow glow. A winding staircase extends around the walls. It loops around twice before disappearing into the room above. Below the staircase there’s stone steps leading to a basement. He’s never visited a lighthouse before and he’s curious about what’s upstairs. The metal steps creak as he ascends. Twice around the interior walls he climbs before he enters the kitchen-living room area of the upper level. Light comes through the vertical window slats the color of Vaseline. Someone lives here—he can see that. He puts his hand on the cold potbelly stove. A coffee pot sitting on top is slightly warm. There’s an unmade single bed, with a piss pot next to it. A desk has writing papers scattered about; several journals are stacked; one lies open. Jesse shuffles in his sandy flip-flops over to the desk. Holding up the light he reads words in the open journal. The Hung Priest, it starts. After a few sentences he stops, incredulous—he’s in it! Jesse takes the stairs two steps at a time, it reads. Eros is in his beach chair watching Tommy chase him down the beach! Even the part where he gets a hard on from Tommy sitting on top of him! His arms suddenly prickle with goosebumps; the hair rises on the back of his neck. Someone’s watching him? But why? He’s not at all interesting. Footsteps clanks above on the metal grating—someone’s descending. He quickly scrambles down the stairs as quietly as he can. He’s about to slip out the front door but something stops him dead in his tracks. It’s a soft moan, or more exact, several moans. It comes from the stairs that lead down to the basement. It’s definitely a group of men, bass voices, muffled cries, rasping groans. He moves to the stone steps. In the living space above someone prepares a fire—twigs snap, a match strikes, the potbelly stove’s door shuts with a clank. A voice in the room seems to be debating himself. Jesse peers down into the gloom where the moaning voices softly reverberate. Holding out the lantern he makes out a thick wooden door. Treading lightly down the steps, each wet and slick with algae, he reaches the door. The whimpering is clearly coming from the other side, yet still they seems far off in the distance. Slowly he twists the knob but it’s locked. Part of him feels relieved that it is. “Hey,” he breathes through the door. “Hey,” he repeats. The murmurs continue unresponsive, seeming not to hear him. He promises himself he’ll come back but next time with Eros and Tommy—if they’ll believe him. Jaxton’s right, though, that they’ve probably had enough of him. Why should they do anything more for him after what they’ve already done? He climbs the stone steps unsure of anything—their friendship, his place in the world. On the top step he slips on algae. He crashes to his knees. The lantern snuffs out and clatters noisily across the floor. He picks himself and dashes to the entrance. “Who goes there?” an authoritative voice booms from the top of the stairs. The figure holds out his lantern but the weak light shows only a small, shadowy figure dart out to the entrance. Outside, front door bangs shut as Jesse sprints into the fog. After putting enough distance between him and the lighthouse, he slows to a brisk walk. Looking over his shoulder he sees the glowing light rotate but growing dimmer the farther away he gets. The moan of the foghorn stay next to him, however, like a phantom he has yet to escape. For several minutes he strides along the beach, his heart beating rapidly in his ears, the surf pounding. Several times he thinks he should head away from the shore and cut inland. He’s most worried though about getting far away from the lighthouse, so when he finally does cuts away from the waves, he find high dunes blocking the way. Regardless, he marches over them hoping to find the wooden walkway that will lead him home. Sliding down the other side of the dunes, he discovers the fog is thinner but he’s overshot the compound and is in the swamp. He’s not crazy about walking back in the direction of the lighthouse but he’s sure the path will take him back to the house soon enough. As he walks further he loses track of the ocean’s constant roar. He should be walking parallel to the surf, but now he’s afraid he’s walking deeper into the swamp. There’s no reliable direction he can discern in the remaining light. Sound is his only guide, but that’s now quieted, leaving only the marsh choir of croaking toads. Vapor off the swamp mixes with the mist in the air. It’s all wrong, and too close to his earlier nightmare. He thinks better of going deeper into the swamp, turns around and goes back the direction he came. An owl hoots directly overhead startles him. The sounds of the marsh grow louder—croaks, rivets, peeps, more hoots surround him. Then he hears something that freezes him to his core—a low growl. There aren’t any dangerous animals on the island, he’s sure of it, or has never heard of any, but a growl’s a growl. He makes out waves crashing straight ahead, which convinces him he’s heading in the right direction, but it’s also the direction of whatever made the noise. Step by step he makes his way in the dark; his thin flip flops test each board trying not to draw attention to himself with a creak. He comes to an intersection with a larger walkway, the road he’s familiar with that’s between the dock and the compound. This feels right. He sighs a small relief. The sound of waves resumes on his right, so he’s fairly certain he now headed back toward the house. Then, abruptly, he bumps into something upright and furry. He looks up into glowing red eyes. A large creature peers down at him. It snarls menacingly, large fangs glistening as its lips pull back. Jesse’s mind races—fight or flight rears its head. Flight, he’s out of there, no question about it! He pivots and there’s a loud crack: a fractured wooden plank snaps in two and he falls several feet through the walkway, into the cold wet swamp below. As his feet hit the mud, he cracks the back of his head against the plank with an audible thwack! * Jaxton furiously rides Mac’s cock on the dining room table. His swinging dick beats out four-four rhythm like the baton of a crazed band leader. He grinds his ass on Mac’s gargantuan cannon of a cock, pulling his ass lips apart straining to capture Mac’s slick balls into the bargain. Just as Jaxton’s on the cusp of blowing his first wad in this new body, the front door chimes. He yowls with unrestrained frustration. He and Mac sourly scramble off the table. Jaxton finds his swim trunks and Mac pulls up his khakis. They answer the door and two extremely old and frail looking monks peer back at them. “Abbot Santana,” Mac says, pulling down his tank top. “I didn’t expect you at the earliest till tomorrow.” He ushers the elderly pair inside. The Abbot, a small man with a pointed salt and pepper beard and a mop of curly dark hair, hobbles on his cane into the foyer. His petite assistant, bald and spindly, carries a large satchel. “Plans changed so quickly, I didn’t realize you would—,” “Yes, yes,” Abbot Santana interrupts with a wave of his hand. “Bueno sera, signore. Bueno sera.” He points his cane at the other monk. “My attendant, Brother Virgil.” The Abbot looks Jaxton in his swimming trunks up and down. “Lucius, is you?” "I'm Jaxton, Mr. Gleason’s personal—” “Ridiculous, I see you Lucius.” He jabs the rubber tip of his cane up into Jaxton’s chest. “You make a terrible mess of things.” Mac and Jaxton exchange a look. Jaxton pleads, “Forgive me your Eminence. It was spur of the moment decision. I was caught off guard by the boy’s regal—“ “We no do ‘spur of the moment’ nonsense. Idiota!” The Abbot taps his cane, looking over the house. “Signore,” he says to Mac. “I must sit. The walk, it is long, and coming here, we were accosted by an animal.” Mac motions to his living room. “Please, your Grace.” With a flick of a switch the living room brightens and the gas fireplace is set aflame. “Can I get you something? Water? Some tea?” Virgil aids the Abbot toward the sofa. “What sort of animal accosted you?” “An animal animal. I know not what kind. Scotch, for such a cold night. Single malt, not your blended rot.” After sitting he leans toward Virgil, patting his hand. “What will you have, my dear?” Virgil murmurs he’ll have the same. “And the same for Virgil!” Jaxton follows them into the living room and sits across from the two monks in one of the black strap chairs. “I’m astonished how fast you got here.” “Your impulsiveness demanded it. But, I confess,” the Abbot takes a moment to appraise Jaxton, “it is a most pleasing form. Michelangelo never did better, eh, Brother?” Virgil eagerly nods in agreement. “Oh, bless you,” Santana says, taking a glass from Mac. Virgil also expresses gratitude, mumbling a hushed grazie. “So this Jaxton fellow. You vetted him? And he was the personal assistant of who?” He takes a sip. “Ah, bellissima. Mille grazie.” “An actor who passed away earlier today,” Mac replies, then goes back to fix himself and Jaxton a drink. Jaxton bows his head. “A tragic heart attack.” “I’m sure it was. Not induced by you, I hope.” The Abbot frowns at Jaxton. Jaxton doesn’t reply. “At least not traceable to you and one of your experiments in chemistry.” Mac brings Jaxton a bourbon. “Thank you. Nothing that would be suspicious in his already taxed circulatory system. Severely obese, doing cocaine all night—it’s not too surprising.” Jaxton takes a sip of bourbon. “In the morning he knew I wasn’t his assistant any longer, so I might have had to hurry things along a smidge,” Jaxton says with a glint of pride. “An extra little push laced in his coffee, perhaps mistaking a gram of amphetamine for a packet of Sweet n Low. Oops.” Jaxton puts his hand over his mouth. “Might I trouble you for another, signore?” Abbot Santana bows his head humbly to Mac. “A water back, I suppose wouldn’t hurt. An encore, Brother?” Virgil stammers an assent. “And another for Virgil. I suppose this accelerates things, does it not, signore?” On his way to the bar Mac replies over his shoulder, “I suppose it does. But I’m sure you both can still be accommodated.” He quickly returns with a tray of water glasses and refilled scotches, and sets them on the glass coffee table before sitting next to Jaxton. “If your Grace approves the boy’s body, my housekeeper Jesse, and if Brother Virgil is amenable to the pool man, I believe the transference can be accomplished quickly.” “I will, of course, need to test the boy’s body.” The Abbot’s wrinkled face pulls back into a painful smile. “It will be fun, Virgil, will it not? You being the older of us this go-round. It will be—what do the young brothers say?—a hoot!” The Abbot raps his cane excitedly on the floor several times. He clinks glasses with Virgil. They both take a long quaff of their drinks. “Mi scusi,” Virgil bashfully says so softly that Mac and Jaxton have to lean forward to hear him. “The p-p-pool man. I understand he has a marito—?” His voice trails off to being completely inaudible. “Speak up, Virgil!” Santana demands. Virgil clears his throat. “Si, the pool man has husband. What is to become of him?” Jaxton adds, “Tragically, he, too, might succumb to another tragic overdose.” “Only if we can watch,” chuckles the Abbot, to which the Jaxton joins in with his droll humor. “Ma—” Virgil holds an index finger in the air. “Is two overdoses too many overdoses? To the authorities, I mean?” Jaxton leans toward Virgil conspiratorially, “Not if a body isn’t found.” Virgil is confused, but quickly catches on, nodding his head with a snickers. Mac looks at his glass before taking a sip. “Thomas Price has been an addict ever since his mother kicked him out as a teenager, Lucius. I’d go down that road with caution.” Jaxton scoffs. “All I’m saying is that junkies can surprise you with their tolerance.” Jaxton waves his hand. “I know the limits of the human body. Three times the actor’s dosage—no one can survive.” Mac shrugs his shoulders, but then turns his attention to the Abbot. “Your Grace. I understand—” Mac pauses, not sure how to broach the subject. “I understand you have a…condition.” “Ah,” says the Abbot. He and Virgil share a look. “Si. A thing I pick up—” He gives Jaxton a stink eye, “—before we begin vetting more carefully. Back when we do a thing in haste.” “In Romania,” Virgil adds, bobbing his shiny head. “M-many centuries ago.” Mac leans toward the Abbot. “Will the boy…” Mac isn’t sure how to phrase it, “…inherit this condition?” “Si. Not at first, but it always come back over the years.” The Abbot starts lifting his robe. “Let this be the lesson to you, Lucius.” As he lifts his robe, he reveals a massive amount of dark body hair on his tiny frame, with a perfectly normal old man’s wrinkled penis. He continues raising his robe and above his navel, first two, then four, then six, and finally eight plump nipples run from abdomen up to chest. “I believe it was a transference in the eighteenth—” Virgil shakes his head correcting the Abbot. “—oh, si, seventeenth century. Tainted boy before we make habit of checking more thorough.” “Werewolf?” Jaxton says in disbelief, to which both Abbot and the Brother chuckle. “No, no, no. We rule out Lycanthropy,” Abbot Santana says, “long, long ago.” “Old w-wives tale,” Virgil stutters. “Wolf-man n-n-nonsense.” He clears his voice. “Supernumerary maladaptation, is science name for Abbot’s condition.” Mac leans over the coffee table and brushes one of the lower nipples with his fingertips. “Oh!” gushes the old Abbot. “Sensitive.” “And on full moons?” Jaxton asks mesmerized by the surplus of teets. “No worry about full moons.” The Abbot laughs. “But no come up and surprise me. Ah grrr!” He and the Brother exchange a laugh, playfully clawing at each other. “Only thing that brings on condition is emotions that are strong. Passion, fear, anger, et cetera, et cetera.” He turns to Jaxton and Mac with a sneer of his upper lip and a laugh. “Ah grr!” he growls at the two of them. The doorbell chimes and the four men exchange concerned looks. The Abbot drops his robe covering his nipples. They sit in silence until the chimes urgently ring several times. Santana turns to Mac. “You answer your door?” Mac warily approaches the entrance. “Yes?” He cracks it open to see who it is and Eros pushes in, knocking him backwards, holding Jesse in his arms. Jesse shades his eyes from the sudden brightness. His legs drip mud. “We need get him to a hospital.” “Eros, knock it off! I’m okay,” he says. “Just let me down.” “I need the keys to your boat.” Eros shakes Jesse in his arms, scolding him. “You need to be looked at.” “We found him on the marsh,” Tommy quickly fills over Eros. “I guess he fell through some planks. He was up to his neck, shaking, whining—” “I was in mud, T! Of course I was shaking.” “What are you talking about? Slow down.” Mac says, his hand on Eros’ chest. “Don’t tell me to slow down.” Tommy continues speaking over Eros, “He went off at the beach and didn’t come back.” He checks the back of Jesse’s head. Jesse swats his hand away. “When it got dark, we went searching for him.” Tommy points to the lounge chair in the living room. “Put him on that. We thought he got lost in the fog.” “I was lost!” “He just now is coming round. I think he was knocked out. He was dazed when we got him out.” Eros sets him on the lounge chair. He and Tommy realizes there’s others in the room. They give the monks a cursory grunt but are obsessed with Jesse. “I wasn’t knocked out. I was stuck in cold mud.” The two sit on the ottoman, fidgeting. Eros says, “See, there’s a little blood back here.” He twists Jesse’s head to show a dried patch. “Hey. I’m not a mannequin!” Jesse squawks. "Oddio!” says the Abbott rising with Virgil’s help. “The fault is ours. We are terrible—how you say—scaredy cats. Something frighten us walking from the boat. We think it an animal. We are afraid and hurry to the house. We don’t think to find out what it was.” “Apologies,” Mac says to the monks. “Eros and Tommy, this is Abbot Santana from Father Lucius’ monastery and his attendant, Brother Virgil.” Tommy and Eros give them distracted greetings. “Fortune smiles, gentlemen,” the small Abbot says, putting his hand on Eros’ bicep surreptitiously squeezing it and exchanging a gleeful look with Virgil. “No need for hospital. Brother Virgil is registered nurse. He see to your friend.” “Si, Concussion, very serious.” Virgil is again barely audible so Tommy and Eros have to lean toward him. “But he no pass out, so is good.” Virgil takes his glass of water and offers it to Jesse. Jesse grabs Eros’ forearm. “See, they heard an animal, too. It had red eyes. And before that, back at the lighthouse, I heard voices under the floor!” “He might wish something stronger,” the Abbott suggests to Mac, softly. “And, guys, someone’s writing about us!” Mac brings back a whiskey. Virgil takes it. “Here,” he whispers to Jesse. “You drink.” Jesse sips then grimaces from the taste. “Come. Once more.” Jesse takes a second reluctant sip. “Gees,” Tommy says. “You poor guy. You musta really knocked your head.” “It doesn’t sound like he was unconscious,” Mac assures Tommy and Eros. “But he could be in shock.” “Let’s get him to the shack,” Tommy suggests. “You can. But you’ve got a registered nurse right here,” Mac suggests. “Are delusions a sign of a concussion?” Eros quietly asks Virgil. “Eros. I’m right here. You know I can hear you? Jesus Christ! Sorry Father,” he says to the Abbot. “I’m cold, wet and upset, not delusional.” Jesse takes a deep breath, then adamantly states his case: “There’s voices in the lighthouse basement. There’s someone in the lighthouse who’s writing about us. And there’s some red eyed monster in the swamp.” “Just listen to yourself,” Tommy says, aggravated. "Total nut job." “He got a big conk on his head is all.” Eros says to Tommy. He scans the room and sees everyone is skeptical. “You know where you are, don’t you, Chewy?” “Of course I do,” Jesse says impatiently. Then seeing Eros clearly wants him to answer. Rolling his eyes, he says, “Okay. I’m in Mac’s living room. But there really were voices—” Tommy and Eros are nodding indulgently. He sees they’re just humoring him. “Someone was writing…In the swamp, there was—” He takes in the concerned looks of the monks, and sees Jaxton’s behind them smirking. He leans back into the lounge chair and exhales. “Okay. Forget it. I guess I am totally…” He twirls his finger around his temple. “He should stay here tonight.” Mac puts his hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Jesse, why don’t you go upstairs, take a hot shower and wash off all that mud?” Jesse nods. He gets off the lounge chair, scowls at Tommy and Eros, then trots up the stairs. “C’mon, Eros.” Tommy elbows him. “We’ll check on him in the morning.” Eros sees the small bald monk is beaming at him adoringly. He snarls not liking that one bit. He jabs his finger at him savagely. “You just make sure he stays okay. You hear me?” Virgil cringes from Eros’ hot breath. The Abbot cuts in front of Virgil, “Oh, most definitely.” He places his hand on Eros’ chest. “We will be with him throughout the night. I assure you this.” Eros pushes off his knees and rises. He confronts Mac, poking his finger in his face. “You got Gleason airlifted. You’ll do the same for the kid if it comes to that. Got it?” “Got it,” Mac replies. His eyes shine from Eros’ insolence, but he keeps his cool. Eros and Tommy get ready to leave, but Eros turns back giving the group a last menacing look, before slamming the door. “Most unpleasant fellow,” says the Abbot. “Not for much longer,” Mac says under his breath. “Another statue of Michelangelo, eh, Brother Virgil? But the teeth, they will need repair.” Mac climbs the stairs and finds Jesse relaxing under the streaming shower. The last of the mud swirls down the drain as Mac slips off his khakis and top and joins him. He gently washes Jesse’s shoulders and back, soaping up his chest, under his arms, between his legs. Jesse unwinds in Mac’s arms. He turns the boy around and kisses his lips lightly. “I’ve so enjoyed out time together.” “Me too.” Jesse wraps his arms around the man and clutches him tightly, tasting the saltiness of his skin. Mac soaps the boy’s groin and gets a rise out of him. Jesse smiles as he’s being stroked. Mac rinses him off and turns off the shower. He grabs a warm towel and dries him. “Like our first time, isn’t it?” Mac says. He leads Jesse into his bedroom straight to the sling. Jesse eagerly climbs in letting Mac slip his legs into the straps and positioning his butt at Mac’s crotch. He places his hands above his head grasping the chains ready for Mac to slide his cockhead into him. Slipping quietly through the door, Jaxton grabs Jesse’s right hand and puts it in a restraint, while Mac quickly cuffs Jesse’s legs. “Motherfucker!” the boy shouts at the top of his lungs, thrashing wildly. Jaxton tapes his mouth with duct tape and Mac secures Jesse’s other hand. No matter how hard he bounces he’s held in place by his cuffs. Abbot Santana and Brother Virgil enter naked, Santana rubbing his hands together excitedly as Virgil sets down his satchel next to the sling. They both leer at the helpless boy, whose eyes widen in fright taking in the hairy Abbot surplus of nipples. The aged monk seems to grow taller as he bares a wolfish smile, his teeth unusually large and his ears, under dark ringlets of curls, appear pointed. His shoulders and flanks are black with thick fur as are his arms and legs. The Abbot walks between his parted legs, running his hands on the inside of Jesse’s thighs. He has grown larger than Mac and Jaxton, who close rank on either side of the hairy Abbot. They stroke the Abbot’s many nipples causing his wrinkly dick to swell to attention. As the veiny dick rises it pokes Jesse in the balls; the boy, revolted by the canine monstrosity bearing down on him, redoubles his effort to try to escape. He hollers and yells behind his tape, shaking his head, kicking his arms and legs in every direction. The sling clangs away in his frantic struggle to get away from the beast. “Can you not calm him down?” the Abbot says to Jaxton. Jaxton produces his zippered drug case and removes a hypodermic. “Hold his head to the side.” Mac presses down on Jesse’s ear so that his neck is exposed. The veins pop out prominently as Jesse strains against Mac’s hand. Jaxton finds a suitable candidate and injects the fluid. Mac releases him as Jesse coughs behind the tape, begins breathing rapidly and starts trembling violently as the drug directly hits his brain. The men around the sling watch the alteration of the young boy, from rebellious captive to writhing slut. “Virgil, we start with il cazzo. See what he can take, but mind the ruby.” Virgil, eyes lit up with excitement, pulls out a set of sounds from his satchel. Staring with one of the smaller one, he coats the silver rod with lubricant and places a drop on Jesse’s piss slit. The old attendant expertly inserts it. Jesse pumps his hips up into the sound, wanting it to penetrate him faster. “Slow, slow, child,” says the Abbot amused. “You have much time to enjoy your impaling.” Virgil holds his cock, squeezing and releasing it as the weight of the sound drills deeper into Jesse’s urethra. The tip disappears and reappears as Virgil pumps his dick. A happy look of enchantment blooms across his face as he nods to the Abbot. Virgil extracts the sound and replaces it was a much larger one that has multiple ridges. He coats the new sound and lets its weight fall much more quickly down into Jesse’s erection. Almost vanished, the Abbot grabs the tip and pulls it out and then pushes it quickly back in. He masturbates the boy from the inside out. Jesse eyes roll up in his head at the overwhelming agony and ecstasy of the sensation. Virgil coats a huge sound, one thick as his finger, and gives it to the Abbot. The Abbot removes the medium rod and attempts to insert the new gigantic one into the narrow piss slit. Just the tip is difficult for Jesse to accept, but the Abbot teases the boy’s small opening until Jesse, his eyes filled with dark cravings, pushes his pelvis to force in the sound. He can’t help himself. The pain is great but his corrupt desires are stronger. In pure anguish, notes the Abbot, he still keeps pushing up on the impaling rod. For several minutes the men watch the dance the Abbot and Jesse perform—almost out and then all the way in. It makes the boy crazed and amuses the ancient monk. He loves the exquisite torture he’s giving the boy. Mac brings over a brown bottle, uncaps it and places it under Jesse nose. Whether he’s aware or not, Jesse hits the bottle hard, and then relaxes into the sling and lets the Abbot glide the enormous sound in and out, as he shudders in the Abbot’s hand. “Magnifico,” the Abbot says, as he molests the boy. “Decidedly a masochist. We can only pray he also displays a sadistic side.” The Abbot extracts the sound and slaps Jesse’s balls. The boy spreads his legs inviting more abuse from Santana. “Stupendo,” breaths the Abbot, and continues the slapping, harder and harder, until the hand turns from palm to fist. Jesse rams his crotch into the man’s clenched hand, tears streaming from his eyes in his desire for more pain. “Molto bene. Now we fuck,” he says, leaving the sling and moving to the bed. Mac and Jaxton release Jesse’s cuffs, help him out of the sling and lead him to the Abbot. The old man sees the boy’s eyes are dark and corrupt. He plays with his many nipples to increase the young boy’s debauchery. Jesse’s dick rises at how perversity of what he’s offered. He climbs on the old man who rips the tape off his mouth to allow him to bend down and suckle the many plump choices. The Abbot writhes in delight as the boy nurses him. “Ah, ciccio. Fantastico. Sit, sit,” he says, wiggling his erection. Jesse climbs over his hips, while Brother Virgil slicks his butt with lube. Jesse lowers himself on the hairy mutant’s penis and squirms down on it. His hands on the headboard, he winces in perverted pleasure as he accepts the cock sliding inside his body. Mac strokes Jesse’s cheek and offers him another hit of poppers. Jesse grabs Mac’s hand and pulls it to his nose and hits it hard. He moans, doubling down on the Abbot’s furry crotch. Virgil lubes his own bloated cock and crawls behind the boy. He introduces his member to Jesse hole, and Jesse bends over presenting his sloppy cunt to the Brother. Virgil happily grinds himself in, rubbing his cock against the Abbot’s. Jesse feels his sphincter incredibly stretched as he maniacally pounds his hips against the two old perverts. He gives in to the foul scene and pinching the nipples of the abnormality below him. Santana pants, his tongue lolling to the side, a long red tongue. His pace of fucking his cock into the boy grows faster as the boy pinches his nipples harder. He snarls, grabs Jesse’s head and gnaws at his neck, growls viciously and explodes his load into the boy. The slick wet hole triggers Virgil, knowing the Abbot sperm engulfs his cock. Jesse growls himself and bites the Abbot’s neck in return. He rubs his hand up and down the Abbot’s chest and abdomen, pinching them pitilessly till the Abbot howls in pain. The pure depravity of the act makes Jesse cum all over the Abbot many teets. He rubs his sperm into the old man’s pelt. Looking down into the Abbot’s face, he sees blood red eyes glowering back at him. The Abbot bares his fangs, growls hungrily at the boy, quite ready to devour his soul.

Men of a certain age were taught rubbers were to prevent pregnancy, period. My experience is that they hate them as much as we do. Many of my married pals are now secretly on PrEP or go for men who say "safe only and negative" in their profiles. Either way they bareback and breed when the lights go out. A couple have told me that if the "gay guy" they are hooking up with is willing to wear or receive a covered dick and has them available/nearby that makes them feel more comfortable going raw. As gay men, we wear our sluttiness as a badge of honor, but I think that sometimes scares married men (at least in the beginning) ergo more sex equals more risk of STDs, etc. One example is a super hot, younger (mid 30's) black fuck buddy... he has kids and a wife at home, but really prefers fucking male ass. He secretly went on PrEP to protect himself and his wife. Then took a traveling job which now affords him the opportunity to fuck pretty much whoever he wants, whenever he wants. He is always surprised at how many men are willing to bend over for a handsome face, great smile and 9 thick bare inches, of course I'm not. I think he finds "dominating" and breeding a "submissive man" and over all sport sex much hotter than his wife honestly. The other day he invited me to DC for an upcoming "boys weekend" -- his wife has long done a semi annual girls weekend of shopping and pampering in NYC and such, so he's decided to follow suit -- only his will be 2 nights and 3 days of hot, raw sexcapades and breeding with 5 of his favorite fuck buddies (with the sports channel blaring in the background rather than gay porn)....this man says he has never had a condom on his dick and never will, which I think is a grand gift for all of us lucky enough to have tasted his nut directly from our own assholes!!

For the next 15 or 20 minutes the room was filled with the sounds of leather Daddy's chaps-covered thighs and heavy balls smacking again and again against the sub pig's hairy sweaty ass cheeks as Daddy pounded away at the increasingly accepting formerly virgin hole, along with the deep moans and groans of pleasure/pain and lust and the dirty chem-fueled outbursts alternately begging Daddy to fuck him and thanking Daddy for using his hole, and the incessant "click" of the lighter as even during this initial hard fucking I continued feeding all 3 of us huge hits from the pipe. I had just given Trevor a gigantic shotgun which we traded back and forth a few times then we began noisily making out. My tongue thrusting deep inside Trevor's mouth I could feel the vibrations running throughout his entire body as Daddy banged that hot horny hungry pig hole. When Daddy was as horned up as he was tonight, with the thought of beginning this boi's conversion, transformation and acceptance, I knew he would spew a fucking HUGE load of unmedicated poisoned jizz into the depths of the hole surrounding his dick. And my own thick leaking POZ cock throbbed thinking that THAT huge toxic load of Daddy's would be the very first load ever dumped in this pig's hole - initiating him into the sensual dark pleasures of taking cum, wanting it, needing it, not caring about his fucker's status. I couldn't wait to slide my own unmedicated cock into his willing hole, feeling Daddy's thick load coating the way. I pulled my lips back from the pig's lips and looked into his dark-as-hell eyes. He smiled lustfully at me then suddenly arched his back and moaned loudly as Daddy plunged hard and deep at a new angle hitting more uncharted territory in the neg cherry hole. "OH YESSSSSSSSSSSS!!! Oh gawd, Daddy! I love it! I love it!! Fuck you feel so good Sir! I'm your sub pig boi Daddy! I'm yours to use for your pleasure! Just keep fucking me! Fuck! I can't believe how good it feels!"" "I knew you'd like it boi", Daddy growled deep in his throat as his breath became more ragged. "Your hot hole needed to be fucked to make you a true sub pig. You like Daddy's dick in your ass pig? You like feeling Daddy's cock plow deep into your guts?!" "Yes, fuck YESSSS Daddy! Make me your pig! Plow me! Fuck me!" I blew out a cloud of smoke into Trevor's face and asked lustfully, "Do you want Daddy to breed you, pig? Do you want our hot leather Daddy to cum in you? He's cum in me so many times and the feeling is fucking unbelievable! And with his cum being charged up - with Tina", (smiling at Daddy as I said this), "you'll be higher than fuck! Do you want it?" "HELL YESS!!" the boi screamed out. "Then tell HIM", I said. "Beg him for his cum. Tell him how much you want him to breed you. Begging him for it will make him cum even harder inside you." Trevor locked eyes with Daddy. "PLEASE Daddy! Please cum in me! Breed me and shoot your fucking seed into my guts! Let me feel what my pig brother has felt! Please Daddy, I need you to breed me!" Daddy pushed the sub boi's legs back further as he thrust forward harder and said, "That's all I needed to hear pig. Get ready bitch! Here comes your first ever cumload and it's like nothing you ever hoped for!" And with that Daddy bellowed and slammed one last time into Trevor's bug-bound manhole!

They asked me if I wanted some more tina. Hell yes. They asked if I had ever heard of a butt rocket. I said no, but if they recommended it, I was game. They put some Tina and water in a syringe with no needle and put it in my ass. They told me to hold it as long as I could. I could already feel the stuff going to work. I became incredible fixated on my ass. All I could think about was finding more cocks to fuck me and cum in me. After a while, they asked me if I wanted to go to the maze. I had seen it when I was looking for my room and it looked promising. We went over and walked into the darkness. The maze was almost pitch-black. As my eyes adjusted, I could see that there were 10 or 15 guys milling around. Some guys were sucking cock through glory holes that were cut in the walls. I found a glory hole for myself and knelt down. Almost immediately I was presented with another beautiful cock. From what I could see of the guy he was Latino and uncut. I started sucking his cock, as my two fuck buddies watched and encouraged me. Give him your ass they urged. The idea of having a guy whose face I had never seen felt nasty, forbidden, dangerous, and totally exciting. I turned around, placing my ass up against the hole. I rubbed his cock on my ass, and groaned. He pushed forward, and I had my third bare cock in my ass in less than an hour. It was even better than before. I was so lubed with sperm and the party favors had me thinking only with my ass. The guy in my cum hole couldn't last very long. I heard him grunt thorough the hole and again that warm, squishy feeling. It was so good. While I was being fucked, I had my eyes closed as I just focused on being fucked. As the cock slipped out of my ass, I looked up to see that I was being watched by about 5 or 6 guys. That thought turned me on even more. There was a lot of sex going on in the maze, but I was the most blatantly cock-crazed. I felt like I was just getting started. How many guys could I get to fuck me?