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Received an SMS about an hour ago asking if he, Zane (it turns out his dad was saying ‘Zane’ not ‘Shane’) could come to my place. Had an argument with his girlfriend and wants to “earn more gear”; his words. He said he’d like to spend the day with me and even hinted that he’s up to try anything. Already asked him if he minded me slamming; he asked what it’s like and, after I described it to him, he wants to try getting slammed. I’ll show him some vids of guys getting slammed and fucked for the first time; hopefully that’ll persuade him to let me fuck him while he’s rushing. Of course, I couldn’t respond quickly enough. He’s on his way. I’m REALLY looking forward to this. I know I’m going to take his cock and I am absolutely going to flip him over and try easing my cock inside his boy cvnt. If he lets me fuck him from there, I’ll be ecstatic. I love popping cherries, especially straight ones.

Let me start with a declaration: this encounter happened yesterday on my way back from Melbourne to my farm in Gippsland but part of it is fictionalised; reflecting what I hope transpires next. Having been in virtual lockdown on the farm for most of the past fortnight, I made a quick trip to see my dealer. I wanted to stock up (as it were) knowing that tighter restrictions were pending in Australia. (They were announced yesterday, effective midnight last night, so it turned out As is my wont, I stopped at Tooradin Pier and messaged a young bloke, Ricky, I’ve hooked up with occasionally for the last six months or so. He’s a total bottom boy and a very appreciative cumslut. He looks younger than his ID says but he’s a very experienced young piggy boy who lives for getting wire fucked. Usually I stop there at night but this was mid-afternoon. Instead of smoking in my car, I decided discretion was the better part of valour and took my pipe into the toilet/shower block. After a while, there was a knock on the cubicle door and I opened it fully expecting it to be Ricky. It wasn’t. It was the young guy whose car had its hood up when I arrived. I’d offered him a jump start earlier but he declined, saying his dad was already on his way. ”Just wanted to warn you that you can see the smoke” was all he said initially. I thanked him for the warning and asked if he’d like a puff as thanks. It was obvious that’s what he wanted. I passed him the pipe expecting him to take a drag and leave but he indicated that he wanted to come into the cubicle. I won’t lie; I was surprised. He was young, very tanned and pretty good looking, despite an average hairstyle (to my taste). Without really hesitating, he stepped in and took the pipe and took a huge drag. As he exhaled, he blurted out, “fuck that’s good stuff” and offered me the pipe. I told him to keep going, to take as much as he liked. He did exactly that. After a few deep puffs, he passed me the pipe and observed, “ leaned forward and asked, “you don’t inhale deep enough”. That’s true actually. Never having been a smoker, I’ve never been particularly good at inhaling anything, be it smoke from tobacco or weed or a pipe. I tend to swallow pipe smoke to get as much into me as I can. Apparently it’s amusing to smokers to watch my trying to smoke. Without prompting, he took the pipe and said, “Shotgun?”; inhaled deeply and leaned in. It wasn’t bad. I blew the smoke back into his lungs and, after initially accepting it, pulled back sharply. But, instead of saying anything, he took another deep puff and leaned in again; this time he kept coming until hi lips were pressing against mine. I reacted as any gay or bi guy would and we were kissing. Full on; tongues probing. He stopped only to take another deep drag and leaned back in. At some point, I was playing with his nipple and the groan he gave out seemed to be the green light to lift his shirt and start sucking his nip. He was loving it and lifted his shirt over his head; I took the opportunity to lick his pits and all I heard was “fuck yeah”. I started working his nipples while he took some more deep drags from the pipe. Eventually, he pushed me away slightly and said those dreaded words: “look, I’m straight. How much gear do you have?” I showed him one of the 8balls I’d just bought and stuffed some large shards into the pipe. ”I want some. What will you want to give me a few points?” I took out probably 3-4 points, wrapped it in some toilet paper and said, “Honestly? Nothing. This is for you.” He grinned and leant in to kiss me. “You kiss well for a straight guy mate”. “ You kiss almost as well as my girlfriend” and, with that, he started kissing me passionately. After a while, he broke off and said, “My dad’s going to be here soon. Can I get a g if I let you suck my cock?” I told him I’d spot him a g without that. But I really wanted to see him naked so I started pushing at his cock. He was hard. “Can I see it?” He started pushing his shorts down with a grin. His boxers followed. He watched my reaction and said, “I could do with a blowie anyway” and he leaned in to kiss me again, this time slowly raising his hand up my back . Once he reached the back of my head, he started exerting downward pressure. Gently at first, then more firmly. I sucked his nipples as I bent my knees and licked his torso the rest of the way until I was directly facing his cock. It was an impressive dick; more pretty than imposing. ”How do you like it sucked?” but he seemed more bewildered by the question than anything. So I gently tongued his foreskin, then the rest of the head. He started back and groaned. “Like this?” Before he could answer, I sucked head strongly and said, looking up at him, “or this? Or...” Then I plunged my mouth over his entire cock. My lips touched the base and I looked up again; his reaction to me demonstrating my deep throating skills was honestly priceless. His eyes were rolling; his groans were loud enough to be heard outside I was certain. But that was his problem really, not mine. I kept working his cock and his balls. He was enjoying himself so much, he’d even forgotten about the pipe until I gently took it from him and took a drag. I think he expected me to stand to give him a shotgun. His moan was beautiful when I took his cock back in my mouth and slowly exhaled. He went to take back the pipe but I indicated he should wait. He watched me take another deep drag and allowed me to turn him around as I gave the pipe back to him. He was busy taking another puff when I spread his cheeks and licked his hole. Then I plunged my tongue inside his arse, as far as I could; he wasn’t protesting one bit as I worked his hole and blew the smoke inside him. After a while, I asked him if I could show him something I thought he might enjoy; he wasn’t protesting. I’d expected him at least to say something about not wanting to be fucked but he didn’t. It wasn’t my intention either; I was just going to insert a shard into his arse and work it with my mouth and tongue but, honestly, I half suspect he might’ve let me put my cock inside him if I’d asked. But I pulled back and told him I was going to booty bump him to see what he thought. Sure enough, a sizeable shard on the end of my index finger elicited an enthusiastic nod. I didn’t muck around either. I found his hole and pressed the shard around the edge for a few seconds, saying “Ready?” moments after I’d already pressed it inside him. My finger was inside him fully and I started pushing the shard into him; feeling the walls of his arse and pushing it as firmly as I dared. That produced his first protest. It had clearly cut him slightly but, instead of easing off, “Just bear with it. I’m trying to get it into your bloodstream”. Sure enough, he noticeably tried to relax and within seconds, his sphincter was relaxing. This little straight boy, this stranger, was loving it. After some time, his phone pinged. “Fuck, my dad’s here.” The mood changed instantly. He was no longer in the moment. He needed to get out and he was suddenly self-conscious about what he’d just been doing. I switched to protective mode. I helped him straighten himself out and gave him his gear and said, “I’ll give you my number. Don’t give me yours so you’re in control. If you ever want gear, let me know and I promise you there’ll be no catch. We’ll just have a smoke and talk, ok? No sex, no favours. Now, get out there and I’ll follow in a few minutes.” He leaned in to kiss me. Surprisingly. And whispered, “can I fuck you next time?” I could have fallen over; I didn’t need to answer that. After a few minutes, my phone pinged. “Stay there. I’ll tell dad I need to let my car run for longer .” And then: “A gram if I fuck you?” Just ten, Ricky responded to my earlier messages. He was minutes away and wanted me to slam and breed him; he had fits on him. So I responded to the young straight bloke whose name I still didn’t know: “You ok if my mate’s here? He wants to be fucked and loves loads. We can fuck him together.” He didn’t respond. Minutes later, Ricky knocked on the door. He was already lubed. I prepped a slam for him and rammed inside him. Later, there was movement outside the door: “it’s me. Let me in.” *** This is mostly true up to the point the young straight guy left. I left the toilet block a few minutes after he did. He sort of acknowledged me as I got into my car. I’m pretty sure he’ll contact me when he wants more gear. I think his father called him, Shane but I’m not certain. I hope he does ring me. I won’t lie; I want to fuck him but I want him to fuck me even more. Young Ricky got back to me when I was halfway home. I turned around and he came back to the farm with me and stayed the night. I just took him home.

A few months ago, I blogged about hooking up with an ostensibly straight young bloke who was the boyfriend of the sister of one of my dealer’s. Since then, I’d been helping him out with his rent at the hostel he’s been staying at but it wasn’t much good for hooking up. We’d hooked up a few times at venues and hotels and he’d stayed at the farm for a few days once. The place in town I’d been sharing since I’d moved to the farm wasn’t feasible given my friends were there too so I decided to lease an apartment. Overlooking the city skyline, pretty modern, two (and a half) bedrooms. Nice ‘get’ really. When Tard first came over, I hadn’t told him I’d leased it long-term and was thinking of inviting him to live in the spare bedroom; obviously the idea of leaving him alone here three days a week most weeks worried me a little. But I intended that first time to stay in the city for at least the week and see how it went. I think I asked him if he wanted to move in on a trial basis the next morning as he was fucking me. We sealed the deal by me flipping him onto his back, sharing a slam and me slam fucking him. It’s been a few months now and, in all honesty, it’s working out better than I’d hoped. We’re not in a relationship but we are living together in every sense except that neither of us expect fidelity. Tard was essentially homeless when we first ‘got together’ so I offered him to share my new place. From the day he moved in, he’s made it clear he prefers to sleep with me in my bedroom even though he has his own room. So far, I’m loving the arrangement. For a kid who basically left home when he was 14 and has lived on and off the streets since then; who became a father himself at 14 or 15 and again at 19 (he’s just announced that his girlfriend of sorts is four months pregnant and she’s intending to keep the kid), who’s spent some time in both juvenile detention and in an adult prison; and who’s supported himself and his drug habit by selling his body since he was young, he’s surprisingly ‘together’ at least in relation to me. He asked me if I minded if he took up escorting again to support himself and his kids and, of course, his drug habit; we talked about it for a long time as I wanted him to be certain that it wouldn’t affect his sense of self. He was more concerned about “sponging” off me. So I’ve been actively helping him establish himself as an escort (versatile and, yes, he works bare and seems literally to have no limits to what services he’s willing to offer) and I must admit it’s been incredibly hot watching a few of his ‘appointments’ with his clients. I filmed a couple of the sessions for him with the clients and I must admit that Tard and I have fucked to the vids already. I booked a session for him with a couple of escorts I’ve regularly hired and they’ve really taken him under their wings. He’s had a couple of bookings with them already and the three of them have done two amateur porn scenes with him mostly getting fucked. One took Tard to a gangbang in Sydney to introduce him to some of his clients and not only did he do very well, he was booked for a breeding party a couple of weekends ago which ended up being three days wired, with his legs open, taking multiple loads. According to the escort who organised it for us, there were some poz tops there; it’s hard to tell on the vid but he’s pretty sure a few poz loads were pounded into Tardy. And he’s decided that’s going to be his focus in escorting; cumdump at bareback parties, with an especial openness towards poz tops breeding negative holes like his. (He’s already persuaded two of his straight mates to be straight cumdumps with him and he does seem to have a talent for identifying straight men who might be interested. (He loves playing with other straight guys and teaching them the wonders of wired gay fucking.) Last Friday week, he brought two young blokes home (from his outreach centre) and we ended up having sex with them; one fucked Tard brutally and we all ended up fucking the younger one. That one’s proven a real cutie.

I’m very much looking forward to the day I learn I’ve finally been knocked up by some bloke’s seed. I love the idea of he and I deliberately deciding to merge our bloodlines, our DNA. Hence my preference to know whose DNA is inside me for the res of my life. And, while I don’t believe in stealthing guys (I don’t judge those who do...or want to like my boyfriend (yes, we’ve decided to start describing ourselves as “boyfriends”. Tard surprised me recently by saying that to someone we both know well...and I must admit, his reaction when he saw I was a little embarrassed was another perfect example of why I’m falling for the bloke...we ended up making love in the backyard of his ex-girlfriend’s sister’s house...with numerous people he’s known for years who think of him as 100% straight watching him pull me inside him; it obviously turned him on hugely to have mates from his childhood seeing him enjoying getting fucked...but I digress). But I’m also looking forward to getting at least two biohazard tattoos probably three; one situate on my cock; one decorating my arsehole (possibly) and a larger one on my chest or lower torso. The designs I’ve seen that’ll form the basis for the designs thus far are below. I’ll add to these as I see them. Ideally, I’m a fan of 3D tattoos and tattoos that seem to be emerging from under the skin. While the tatts on my dick andut are intended to be unmistakably biohazard in nature, the larger one on my chest/torso/arm is to be sufficiently stylised so its nature won’t be immediately obvious unless you are really staring at it. The more subtle the underlying message, the more likely it’ll be situate on my forearm in full public view. It’s likely to be a scorpion for that reason with a biohazard symbol worked into the design somehow; perhaps with the use of UV ink to enhance its prominence in the dark. When I told Tard that I’d love a pre-pozzing biohazard tattoo, say a partial biohazard symbol emerging from under the skin, he fell in love with the idea and I’m giving it to him as his birthday present. It’s likely to become the key visual image of his escorting ads to emphasise he’s available to bottom to poz men. After he converts, it’ll signify that he’s available to breed neg guys too (after he converts me...if I don’t get pozzed before him of course. Tard hasn’t shown me the design yet but I know he’s taken the notion of a biohazard symbol bursting from under the skin with bone, etc exposed around it. (If any Australians would recommend a good tattooist who’s good for, and okay with, gay themed tatts, I’d appreciate you letting me know. Melbourne preferably but I’ll happily send Tard interstate (or even further) for the right artist.