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I was group fucked in my sling by my usual Buddies last night, 2 Dads and 4 Lads. The put me in the sling and strapped the stirrups round my ankles and hauled my legs up high and spread wide apart. I fucking love that - my hole was on show and I felt real vulnerable. They were all naked and hard so it wasn’t long before I had a cock deep in my arse. They lined up to fuck and seed. Me. Hamish went last cuz he’s got a massive cock and I struggle to take it but I’d been fucked so hard for over an hour and I had 5 big wet loads in me that Hamish easily forced his cock balls deep in me. Even though I’d had 5 cocks inside me Hamish was still a real tight fit and I felt every thrust as he pumped his load in me.

Author's Note: this story, and my other story that I just started called "Scotty's Treehouse," have been cooking in my mind for the past 3 years and it would be much easier and more interesting if I put these out at the same time. They are both based somewhat in Truth, one story where I live in the city just blocks from a gigantic Riverfront Cruise forest and not one but two adjacent City cruiseparks. And a giant bike trail and more woods and more Riverfront and more picnic tables and public rest rooms and more Twisted fukkin homo pigs lurking about in there. Fuk yeah! I am not the character daddy Paul and there is no treehouse in the riverfront home adjacent to the cruise forest. As for Tina, she is a real neighbor down the road from my trailer. Her trailer did burn down last year because her original husband died and she hooked up with this guy who was cooking meth and burned it down. The county sheriff was all over the case. It brought out a lot of hillbilly cookers there and I had no idea when I placed my small trailer there 6 years ago it was in the homo section Cruise Woods and a bunch of hillbilly dealers cookers and play pigs. Yeehaw! I am not at all making fun of the real Tina who is a great lady and has since replaced her trailer but I'm not sure if she's with the same guy anymore. She Bears no resemblance to the nutcase trailer Tina in the story. The link between the two stories is the character daddy Paul who is cousin of Tina and the trailer burning boyfriend AKA the The Crystal wizard. For the best spin you should read both stories as they come out chapter by chapter. Daddy Paul will be dragging Scotty, his newest stable whore slut out to Tina's lab, did I say lab? That is, new trailer, for favors and supplies and maybe put fukkin whore Scotty to work in those Cruise Woods, to earn his shit. This story begins with next entry, after some foggy production artwork.

Just come back from the first afternoon cruise of the year at Armley Mills, Leeds. This time of year it can be a bit hit and miss, but as the weather gets warmer, it starts to fire up. What I like to do is head down the canal on my bike for an hour, stop at Armley Mills for a cruise then head home. If it’s warm, I’ll usually wear shorts, go commando, and go shirtless. Today, not quite warm enough for that so I wore hoodie with no shirt, so I could unzip it and show off the body when cruising. Anything to draw guys in 😉 When I’m there, it’s open season on me as far as I’m concerned. Age range 18 to 70, I don’t give a crap. Just I want cock, in my mouth or ass, and some loads. Today was a success at both ends. The first guy had a few tats, which I like, but he was a bit cagey, eyeing me up, walking past, walking back. I said hi a couple of times, but he seemed nervous. Then he seemed to come to a decision and walked off. A few minutes later, a message from a blank Grindr profile: “You the guy with the bike?” Yes (I mean I have very clear pics, but ok) you the guy with the tats? “Yeah. Not into fucking. Just up to get sucked.” Ok I can do that (my profile title is ‘Cum in my Ass’ with emojis), come back and I’ll make you cum. Sure enough back he comes, and we head to a leafy secluded area when I get down on my knees and give him head. Right now every time I’m giving head I’m seeing it as an opportunity to hone my deep throat skills, so I pretty quickly place his hands on my head and give him control for skullfuck. Five minutes later, I can taste the precum and he pretty quickly shoots down my throat, zips up, walks off without another word. I call back thanks to him once I’ve swallowed, but he’s done with me. As it should be. Not much happens for a bit, although there is a bareback top who turns up. I know he’s BB top because his Grindr profile says so. I wander over, we chat, but he’s obviously biding his time, enjoying his vape and seeing who’s about. Answer: no one aside from me and one other guy who’s interested in neither of us. Anyway after about half an hour, the BB top wanders to the back of the cruising area and I follow. I find him cock out jacking off so I head up, pop my bike against the railings and get down to suck him. He seems to understand I’ll be up for a skullfuck, but he’s gentler than the last guy. His rhythm is a bit more slide in and out, but once again I take his cock into my throat until I taste precum. I pull back, look up, and he makes a turn-around signal with his hand. Don’t have to tell me twice. Spit for lube and I’m ready. He shoves inside me. And fuck, for some reason I’m tight today – good for him but it hurts a bit. Now, if this was a sauna I’d say, pull out and let me take a minute to breathe, but in a cruising area? No way. I just breathe while he’s fucking me, facing out from the railings. I love this. He’s keeping an eye out, while I’m one hand gripped on a low-lying tree branch, and the other hand on the floor. Practically on all fours taking his cock like an animal. He starts tog rip my hips and thrust a bit. This is good: he might be close, and my breathing has loosened everything so that I’m enjoying the fuck. I pray the silent prayer of cumsluts everywhere: cum in me cum in me cum in me 😉 Sure enough after about five minutes, the thrusting becomes urgent and he releases a massive load into me. I grip his ass behind me for a bit to ensure he’s fucking the load into me, and then he’s done. Another one who just zips up and walks away, but not before I say thanks. “You’re welcome,” he replies. As it should be. I grab my bike and call it a day. A good day. I ride home on a wave of jizzjoy, riding no-handed, hands behind my head, smiling and feeling FUCKING GOOD!

Sorry for the delay. Have really struggled for time, and also inspiration. This is a second and final chapter, taking the story in a certain direction. I think there is a hotter, darker continuation out there, but I have struggled to write it, so this will do for now pending me maybe finding a different way to take things for an alternative ending. ————— Dean slid his hands under my suit jacket and pressed them onto my chest as he leaned forward and planted his lips on mine. The kiss was brief, before he pulled back and then began to push the jacket off my shoulders. I threw my arms down straight and helped shake them out of it, and he immediately then went to work on my shirt buttons as the jacket fell carelessly to the floor. Once the shirt had joined it down there, Dean quickly stripped off his own before pulling me back in for a longer and deeper kiss. “We’ll have time for that later” he breathily whispered as he pulled back but held his face close to mine. “I need to get at your arse.” I couldn’t help but smile at him as we both began to get fully naked, the familiarity of his hunger for me still there despite it being two decades since the last time we had done this. He wanted me, I wanted him, and all nerves and doubts about what I was doing had evaporated. “On the bed” he growled at me, causing me to almost leap onto the plush bedding and get on all fours. I had barely landed when his face was pressed into my crack, and I could not help but moan loudly as his tongue touched my hole. I then had to bite my lip as he forced it in, opening me up and driving me wild. He was a man on a mission though, so his tongue was soon replaced by one, then two, then three fingers. The pain and discomfort did not bother me though, as I wanted him in there as eagerly as he did. Soon enough, the fingers were gone and his cock had begun its journey back inside me for the first time in far too long. That first reunion fuck was hard, animalistic, painful, but also incredible. I saw stars throughout, my body having a heightened reaction to something that had once been a regular part of my life. I’m not sure any of my blabbering to Dean was coherent, but he got the message and fucked with intensity throughout. Then, with a demonic roar, he gripped my waist even harder and pulled me back against him as he unloaded, and I just panted in satisfaction knowing he was breeding me again after so long. We lounged in hotel robes plucked from the wardrobe for a bit, enjoying the champagne and occasionally going out on the balcony for a smoke. I told him all about my utterly boring married life, and he shared a little about his world as a gay man, making me realise just how much more true to himself he had been than I had ever had the courage to be. There had not been anyone special in his life since he had bailed from his engagement though, and while his tales of sexual adventures turned me on, I did feel a bit regretful for him that he had not found something more. Our second round on the bed made me realise that perhaps he had actually once found someone special, but that fool had gone off and got himself married. Face down, with him lying on my back and buried deep inside me, the tenderness with which he nuzzled and kissed my neck as he slowly pushed in and out gave me a clear sign that I was his “one that got away”. My mind went into overdrive as I thought about that, my own feelings, and what all this meant. It was all a bit overwhelming, and we were both very quiet after he blew in me again. He rested in position on my back while his breathing calmed, and then slowly pulled himself up off me. “Are you OK?” I eventually asked him, as I lay on my side on the mattress with him sitting on the edge of it with his back to me. “Yeah” he sighed. “Just…” “I know” I said, reaching out and putting my hand on his back after he had trailed off and gone silent for a while. “I’m sorry.” He sat still for a while, before nodding, standing up and heading into the bathroom. I lay there a little longer, before sliding off the bed and following him. He was leaning on the sink looking down, so I once again put my hand on his back. He looked up and made eye contact with me in the mirror, slightly startling me with his pained expression. I rubbed my hand down his back, at which point he stood up straight and turned to face me. I instinctively took him in my arms and allowed him to bury his face in my neck, and then we stood like that for a while as we just held each other. “I’m sorry” he whispered, after he pulled back a little to face me. “I know you’re married.” With my mind full of conflicting thoughts, I could not help but lean into him, plant my lips on his, and begin a long and passionate kiss. None of it was about the sex, but rather the reignition of something long since buried for me and long since lost for him. There, in that moment, all I could feel was a burning need to take care of him, now that the pretence and the bravado was gone. He loved me, and always had done, that much I knew even if I suspected it would be very hard for him to say it out loud. I had no idea what I was going to do about it, but with this rekindling of what once had been, I began to realise that I was not going to be able to let it all just disappear a second time. Back in our uni days, we had only ever done it missionary a handful of times, and all of those had been when we were away together for a night or two and Dean had begun to let down his guard. That night in his suite we revisited it, and our third reconnection was a gentle and passionate affair with me on my back, my legs splayed out, and Dean looking deeply into my soul as he moved himself in and out. Our fourth reconnection was the following morning in a position we had only been in one before, both lying on our sides with him gripping me tightly from behind as he again gently coaxed both of us to orgasm. The shower that followed was one of the longest of my life, such was the time spent under the hot spray with our lips locked together. Work that day was a struggle, but I used my tiredness as an excuse in the evening to get out of the Christmas do early and head back to my hotel to change. Dean had extended his suite booking by another night, so once I had got a cab to his hotel we picked up where we left off. I spent most of that night with him buried inside me, and I knew by morning that this was not, could not be, just a quick fling for old time’s sake. I felt alive, energised, passionate, and all the many other things that a married man in his 40s often finds he has slowly, unwittingly lost. Returning to Hertfordshire was a crash down to earth, and I really struggled with re-entry. I felt like I was a different person now, and after expending all my emotional energy with maintaining the illusion of still just being “Dad” to my kids, I had nothing left for my wife. She was in a foul mood with me by Monday morning when I left early for the normal commute into London. Dean and I had been communicating over Telegram so that I could keep the app hidden and notifications off, only engaging when I was able, and through that we arranged to meet for lunch on the Tuesday. The kicker for me is what an utter relief it was to see him again when I arrived at the pub he had chosen, really hammering home that everything was now upended. The hour flew past, and we both agreed we needed to not only now do this as often as we could, but some way would have to be found to satisfy our need to do more than just talk to each other. He, of course, came up with the solution for that, when he took out a very quick lease on a serviced apartment in a block in Limehouse. One minute from a station halfway between his office in Canary Wharf and my own in The City, the location made for quick journeys to maximise our time together. Lunchtimes moved to there, and the only thing that got eaten was my arse… before Dean ploughed into it of course. After just one week of this new routine, he let me know he was planning to sell his house in Brighton and buy a flat in that neck of the woods, as not only had he been missing being based in London but he now had another reason to make the move. Four weeks into our new Limehouse lunchtime routine, my work introduced another curveball to the situation. A colleague I did not know particularly well suddenly quit with immediate effect (or perhaps was actually fired for something serious), and I was temporarily handed a key project from his portfolio to run that involved a lot of engagement with the offices in both New York and Singapore. Time zones were going to be a major issue, particularly as the nature of this project really necessitated being present in the London office with the small team working on it. Therefore, after a rather passive-aggressive conversation with my wife, we ‘agreed’ I needed to be staying in London most of the time for the three remaining weeks that the project would be in this intensive working phase. I had previously told her about having reunited with an old uni friend, and that I’d since met him for lunch a few times to catch up, so she did not seem too surprised when I said that he had offered me his spare room so I could be somewhere nicer than a hotel for the patches of sleep I was going to be getting during short nights and hopefully some lunchtime power naps. Thus, without any more sniping and drama from her, I packed a couple of bags and set off for Dean’s rented flat for a longer stay. Truth be told, the hours were indeed brutal, and Dean and I actually ended up having less sex than normal. However, I could tell that did not matter to him, as me being there for a prolonged period seemed to bring him a kind of relaxed comfort that I had only rarely seen back in the day. He had always had a certain energy, and it was only once he knew he had me there for several days on the trot - even if a bit fleetingly - that he seemed to become calm and just happy to be himself without being “on”. He made a lot of effort to work around my hours, coming home to make me lunch for whichever side of my scheduled powernap was going to be best, waiting up for me in the evening, and getting up with me in the morning so we could chat over coffee before he went back to bed for a bit. As exhausted and strung out as I was, I also couldn’t help but realise how much happier I was in this set-up than anything I could have had at home, even if that home had been fitted with a transporter pad to beam me directly to the office. However, Dean became quite withdrawn on the second Friday, and had disappeared into himself when I came back that night. He wouldn’t talk about it, but I assumed it was because I was once again going to be getting up early on Saturday to go back home for the weekend, and wouldn’t be back until late Sunday night. Not exactly a long time away, but I guessed he was dealing with the reality of being the secret weekday partner, and the weekend’s role in slapping him with the reality of what my life actually was and where my loyalties had to lie. Still, he didn’t voice any of that, so I just had to go on my guess as to that being his issue. What did surprise me more was his lack of interest in having sex that night, despite us having a bit more time than normal, so I just had to settle for a rare reversal of the norm by being the big spoon in bed that night as I tried to wordlessly comfort and reassure him that I really did care for him. After a long journey back home through engineering works on the train line, I endured another tiring weekend doing everything the kids had been promised I would do with them, plus the house jobs that it felt like my wife had invented just to punish me for leaving her alone all week. I’m not sure whether it was the fact that Dean was now in my life the way he was, his unusual sadness at my weekend absence, or whether I had woken up to the true state of my marriage, but as I toiled on door repairs, garage tidying and everything else she’d conjured up, I found myself trying to figure out if I did in any way still want to actually be with her. Yes, I wanted to be a father to my kids, but did being with my wife actually bring me any joy these days? When had it last brought me any joy? Was I bringing her any joy either? It was a little disconcerting to realise that there were no positive answers to those questions. Talking to Dean about this seemed to brighten him from his funk a little when I got back there on the Sunday night, but sex remained off the table that week. I was so exhausted that I was quite OK with just sleeping all wrapped in him at night, and was happy to see him be more upbeat as we periodically engaged in tentative conversations about how a life with me no longer being married could work. Still, something more was definitely bothering him, but I figured he would tell me in his own time, perhaps when I wasn’t on such crazy hours. The project finally finished the following Friday some hours earlier than expected, for which I was very grateful as I was not feeling great that day. The work was expected to have gone on all night and thus I was not due back in Hertfordshire until the Saturday, but I felt increasingly sick as I made my way on the train to Dean’s flat so did not message him to come home early as I wasn’t sure I was up for much. I showered and had some herbal tea to see if it helped, but eventually threw in the towel and went to bed in the hope that I was just exhausted and would feel better for when Dean got back. I didn’t. —————- I think it was Tuesday before I was really with it again at all, and I was still at Dean’s. It really is the most discombobulating thing when you have missed whole days, and still being under the weather, I struggled to take in what he was telling me. I had basically passed out in his bed and was a feverish, barely-conscious mess when he had got back. He had sorted me out with various pills - I had no memory of ever waking to take anything - and had set about keeping a close eye on me. At some point he had pointed my phone at my face to unlock it and thus be able to call my wife, and she had agreed I should stay put so that I did not bring home whatever it was. He noted that this seemed to be her primary concern, rather than the fact that I was in no state to be moved, that Dean was going to have to care for me, or even that I was unwell. Anyway, he had indeed cared for me through the weekend, and now here I was out the other side wondering what the hell had happened. I continued to rest on that Tuesday, with Dean going to the office for part of the day having worked from home on the Monday. That evening I let him know I would get a taxi home the next day, and recharge it to work for the fact that they had avoided an expensive hotel bill during the project because I had stayed with him. He agreed, but said there was something we needed to do first in the morning before I left. I assumed he meant sex, but I woke up late in the morning to the sight of him getting dressed into leisure gear. “I’ve taken the day off” he said. “Come on, get up and we’ll go out for coffee. You can call the cab later.” Before my sleep-addled brain could respond he was out of the bedroom, so I wearily hauled myself up and started dressing in my own jogging bottoms, T-shirt and hoodie. I definitely felt better but still not quite right, so was glad I had decided to go home by cab later as I could chill a bit rather than worrying about trains. Dean hurried us out and was very quiet as he strode off in a different direction than his favourite coffee spot, but I fell in behind and just went with it, not sure what was going on. Then, he came to a stop beside a set of steps up into a building, and when I turned and looked up at the door I saw it was a clinic. ————— “I didn’t know” he said, unable to look me in the eye. We had been sat in silence in the room for quite some time after the doctor had left us alone, and he was the first to make any kind of sound. “I found out the week before last” he continued. “Terrence Higgins were in doing a roadshow in the lobby at work, and we all got marched down to get tested to encourage all the juniors to do the same. One of the ladies doing the testing asked me to help them fix something on a pull-up banner they couldn’t reach so that everyone else would head off to lunch, and then she sat me down and told me my result.” We returned to silence while I absorbed what he had just told me. The timing, his mood, the lack of sex. It all made sense. “So that’s why we haven’t…” I eventually said, before trailing off. “I didn’t know what to do, but I couldn’t risk it if there was a chance you weren’t already” he said, before putting his head in his hands. “Too little, too late I guess”. We remained in silence, as my mind went over and over the words the doctor had said, and what Dean was now telling me. Obviously part of my brain knew it must have been him, but I was so overwhelmed with the news at first that only now he had spoken was that aspect coming into focus. “So, all this sex you were having before me” I said, which caused him to sit up suddenly and dart his head in my direction. “I promise, I was being safe!” he said, and I could tell from the horrified look on his face that he was speaking the truth. “I was on prep, which should have been enough.” “I guess it wasn’t” I said, somehow managing to smile at him. “I’m so sorry” he said, before his face crumpled and the tears started falling. Despite the news I had just been given, I could not help but reach over and pull him into me. As we buried our faces in each other’s necks, I too began to sob. We were both dealing with this, and I knew that I was the first person he had talked to since his own test result came up positive so there was a lot of pent up emotion, coupled of course with the guilt of having infected me too. I, meanwhile, was basically exhausted and this was more than I could take. We did eventually get that coffee, taking them back to his flat. There we sat in silence for a while, only occasionally broken by him voicing out loud the things he was trying to think of that could have played a role. That stomach bug he got that maybe messed up his prep regime. The visit to that bathhouse in San Francisco while he was there for work shortly after getting better. That flu he had just before we were reunited, which must have actually been his own seroconversion. I only spoke up when I got the impression he was on the verge of a spiral. “It’s not your fault” I said. “Of course it is” he replied. “I was the one…” “No” I said, cutting him off, “it’s not. We never used condoms back in the day when we should have, and I did not even think to ever ask you to use one this time round. I never could or should have assumed you used them the rest of the time with other guys. You were taking prep, so you thought you were protected. You got tested regularly, right?” “Yes” he said, “every month. Normally.” “So, then, you just didn’t have time to catch it before we met again” I said, before smiling at him. “And what happened from then on was never going to have been stopped, and all normal routines we both had have fallen apart.” “I suppose” he said, sounding unsure as he looked back down at the floor. “It is what it is” I said. “It’s not a death sentence any more, and maybe it will just seal the deal on my marriage.” Dean’s head whipped back round so he was facing me, his eyes wide and a little puppy-like. “Are you serious?” he asked. “Yes” I said. “I don’t think I love her anymore, I’ve been committing adultery, and now I’ve got HIV. I think that’s the Universe sending me a pretty big sign that it’s over, don’t you?” “But… but what about your kids?” he asked. “I don’t know” I replied. “But the marriage can’t go on, so we’ll just have to deal with it.” He sat and stared at me for a moment, before he looked down at the floor and shuffled a bit. “So what will you do now then?” he asked, a nervous edge creeping into his voice. “I guess that depends on you” I said, leaning over and putting my hand on his thigh. “You said something about buying a flat here?” A big smile broke across his face as he turned his head back to face me. “I did say that” he replied. “Well” I continued, now smiling back at him.. “That sounds like it would be very convenient for my office too, so I might just have to see if you need a roommate.” His smile turned into a big grin, and then he leaned towards me and our lips met. We melted into one another, for that moment choosing not to think about the magnitude of all that had happened and all that would be coming. What we had once had was rekindled, it was stronger than ever, and I could not wait to see where it took us next.

Part one build up and previous encounters I am a 6” chunky bear and a bisexual top who likes to bareback. I started out when I discovered public toilets with gloryholes in my twenties and enjoyed getting sucked off by whoever was there mostly older men who seemed to enjoy my 8-inch cock. One day a bloke in his 40’s in stockings motioned for me to come into the cubicle with him I had not done this before preferring being anonymous. But I went in, and he went to town on my cock and wanted me to fuck him, but people kept coming in and out, so he asked if I wanted to go to his flat just down the road. I was so horny and as had never fucked an arse before, so I went with him. Five minutes later we were in the bedroom of his flat we both stripped down and he sucked me for a bit before saying fuck me and lubing his hole. He then got out a little brown bottle and started to sniff them in each nostril then passed the bottle to me. “What are they?” “Poppers take a long sniff in each nostril and hold for as long as you can” I did as he told me the strong smell quickly hit me and had a tremendous rush and passed them back to him, he sniffed again and said fuck me now mate. Now feeling buzzed by the poppers, I really gave him a pounding and then dumped a load deep in him. For the next few years cruised the public toilets near me with the occasional fucking and realising those that used poppers tended to go for it a lot more and were much more up for it. I then moved to a different area and the opportunities dried up and as could not accommodate stopped seeing anyone. Moving on twenty years later married and not getting much sex and wanting to try some man-on-man sex again. Now with the internet found a hook up site so created a profile Bear top looking for bareback bottoms. As I could not accommodate and only occasionally get away from my wife for an hour or so in the evenings turned out to be harder than I hoped to find someone. I then found a guy in his 30’s who could accommodate and just wanted to be fucked bareback which suited me and he was only 20 minutes away. I walked in door he had porn playing I took off my clothes and he was on his knees worshiping my cock a then face fucked him huffing poppers and feeding him then to the turned him around and dumped my raw load in him. All in all, a very satisfying time so thought great and met up for a few times and becoming a regular pump and dump. Then messaged him in morning about the evening and he said had somewhere staying at his for the foreseeable future damn, so my odds-on fuck was out of the window. So back to the hook up site after scrolling through bottoms who could accommodate and did bareback was getting further and further away then I saw Roger’s profile. He was 67 versatile bottom skinny with tattoos a PA piercing and looked very nice also his interests included Bears, fur, rimming, Bareback and kissing which all interested me. Then there were more details that he had a playroom with a sling and was into fisting something I had never thought about but hey if he liked it cool. Then he mentioned enjoying piss play yuck and PNP which I had no idea what that was I decided to send him a message…. to be continued if you like.

I keep coming back to this topic via email notification. I love hearing how many of us have played with our dads. As a reminder I moved in on my dad when I was 13 after my brother left for college. I remember every detail like it happened yesterday. The most I remember was how much I was in love with my dad, the things he taught me. What a pussy boy was compared to a man. What turns a man on ect. Mostly, the love making mixed with nasty dirty talk, and how pnp takes it too a different level. The difference between being fucked and being breeded. My dad said he'd never fuck me, he'd only breed me to be pregnant with his babies. I'm hard right now imagining how my dad would be kissing me as he filled my pussy with his babies.

I think the title of this thread is actually a kind of teachable idea for anyone who is thinking of starting to bareback: "NEED to bareback - neg SCARED of becoming poz" This really is it for me: NEED vs SCARED. That balance between an intense sexual desire and fantasy that's drawing itself into your reality, versus the fear of consequences, and in particular, becoming HIV-positive. Now for me, I'm a chaser, so becoming Poz would be (pun intended) a positive outcome for me, but that's simply not the case for the majority of barebackers. But I completely connect with this idea of NEED. When I started barebacking as a btm in 2012, it had gotten to the point of being a NEED: I needed a total stranger - or multiple strangers - to fuck and cum in me, and in the end, what it took for me to get over being SCARED was a few drinks and a random hookup in the toilets of a London Soho bar. Hardly the most stylish way to do it maybe, but it got me past my SCARED. It got me to tip my scales towards that NEED. And I won't say that I wasn't still scared afterwards, but yeah there was full acceptance that I had done it. I was still scared of becoming poz in those days, but I didn't freak out and go: oh shit, get me on PEP right now! I accepted the consequences of my actions. And it turns out, the major consequences of my actions on that drunken night were to want it more. I didn;t get HIV from that one fuck, because actually getting HIV is something of a challenge, a roulette: I know - I've been trying! In the years 2013-18, my rule was to let the top decide about condoms, and more than 50% of the time, I was fucked bare. This practice - to take the decision out of my own hands and submit to the top's will - was perfectly authentic for me as a btm sub, and tipped the scales so completely that only NEED remained. That need to have men cum inside me, as much as possible. These days I'm addicted, and weirdly proud of that, but you certainly don't have to go as far as I have done in this NEED/SCARED equation. But I digress (hey there ADHD! 🤣) - the point is that your decision to start barebacking will always play upon these dynamics of NEED vs SCARED. These days, you can tip the scales a bit more safely with Prep, but I say that living in a country with free healthcare. That's not the case in the US, and other countries. In the end, my own advice, based on my experience would be to JUST DO IT. That NEED isn't going to go away, and there are lots of things you can do - Prep, find a trusted partner, etc - to lower the risk so that SCARED isn't going to feel so intense. The chances of getting HIV from just one fuck are pretty low, and virtually zero if you go on Prep. If you can't get it out of your head, then it's just going to become a pathological situation, intensifying in the background to such an extent that when you do eventually do it, it'll be a wild desperate set of risks you take, because the NEED will have grown into a mountain, but so will the SCARED. Start now, when that NEED is less rampant and pathological, and you are able to be a lot more mindful about these two dynamics. Unexpressed desires often barrel into psychological issues, and really the only two paths ahead are either expression or eradication. Fear will not be a great teacher, and will not assist in either of these: if you cannot mindfully let it go - truly let it go completely, with a smile and a relaxed breath - then you'll have to express. But true eradication is hard, and is often only partially completed. That NEED comes barrelling back. So my advice: Express the NEED in your sexuality, and take the steps you have to do in order to reduce that SCARED. Prep is a good first step for someone like you I think. Good luck, hope you are able to find the right balance between that NEED and that equally valid SCARED, and do what feels right for you ❤️

I love rimming and sucking each other’s holes out. Rimming tongues and spit can salvage what otherwise might be a bad uneventful session

Scotty’s Tree House – part four Before daddy Paul even got the needle out of Scotty's arm, Hugo and Fred, two big black dudes, a couple, who live next door were working the slammed up, spun out and TWEAKED out boywhore from both ends, pounding his throat and pounding his newly christened cunthole. The boy was trying to comprehend what was happening ears were ringing Vision was sort of Shifting back and forth he just had a dominating feeling of needing his holes pounded and filled. Scotty had never been much of a bottom he would always be somewhat of an angry top either at the bath house or playing in the woods are getting a dude up in his tree house. Or sneaking in his own bedroom. The slam was so euphoric it was strong it was unlike anything he had ever experienced just enjoying for the first time being a cunthole and having sloppy dirty seed and piss worked into them it felt so fukking warmm. Scotty always worked his hips toward the guy fucking him just wanting and wanting his hole to be opened he never wanted to be a tight hole again for he was often called one and the some guys wouldn't fuck him because of it. " I just think black cocks Are Better Built and bigger,"" said daddy Paul as he shoved his tongue up his boys cunt as Hugo was pulling out his 11 inch meatlog . Scotty's hole was so sloppy plus he had swallowed every load he took down his throat. Daddy Paul had posted in bbrt Scotty's initiation as an event so guys were coming in for the next couple hours from here or there and across the river. Daddy Paul continued to keep his pipe loaded and and demand that Scotty take long deep hits. Especially on his first slam. I want you so spun out and slammed up for the picnic table later. You're going to have fun time in the woods tonight you dirty public fuck hole. You like it don't you. We got some magic markers to write on you for tonight but you'll be getting some permanent tats brandings and piercings so everyone knows what you are . We're going to get over to your tree house real soon because I know you got some cash over there and you're going to pay for all this shit I've been giving you tonight. A ball is 3-1/2 grams you got a four balls to start scale, a couple pipes and a bong and they'll be rigs, the syringe is called a rig, and you'll be making your own slams. Keep that s*** under lock and key there are no honest whores around here they'll steal if they can and won't tell you. If you lose it you got to buy it again All of us pigs here have mohawks and you'll be getting yours. Your days of being a f****** dumb twink working at a gas station are over b****. You work for me now and you're going to be worn torn ripped open spat on kicked around beaten up double slammed gang raped and put in your place. You are mine now and you are going to perform. You'll get your cut your commission when I'm paid first. You are one of 10 guys here we cater to public pigs who like fucking in public toilet sex picnic tables just being dirty whores and loving it. I love to swap and Felch and you're going to love to swap and felch holes with me. We we're going to work the glory holes too, shoot some video in the woods especially daytime mornings and get over to the men's room in the front of the big box hardware and grocery store over there. You're going to be so wired and up for probably two or three days two or three nights so keep piping take as much loads as you can because remember unless they want you to fuck them you are their cum dumpster l and you are there to please our boys and men. End of Part 4 Before we see Scotty working his pipes and Magic markering his body we have to take a break and and read the following authors note.. Check out my story called "Trailer Trash Tina and the Crystal wizard." Tina is the cousin of daddy Paul and she also supplies him with shit he hustles in the city. You're going to be going out there and paying for stuff that you need and maybe working the woods there because you're a dirty high as fuck public pig serving the needs of our dirty public sex. Boss Daddy his meth head stable boy cunt will be heading out to trailer trash Pig meth country and tangling with a County Sheriff r

Something had given way inside Mike that afternoon. He knew it as soon as he left Wolf’s place. He wasn’t the same. It wasn’t just that, even in his post orgasm clarity he’d allowed Wolf to shove a big heavy plug inside his stretched-out hole. It wasn’t how horny that plug had made him as he walked home. It was that the little voice telling him to be ashamed or upset about what he’d just done was gone. It didn’t rear its head once. Crashing into his apartment and stripping off his clothes he felt proud of himself. Proud in a way he couldn’t ever remember having been before. He lay on his bed, still plugged, waiting for the voice to come back and tell him this wasn’t what good college boys did. It stayed silent. It stayed silent because he understood that he wasn’t a good college boy, he was a slut. He was a pig. He was a beta pup. He was a cumdump. He was a faggot. He craved cock. He craved loads. He craved having his hole stretched to the limits. He pulled at the plug in his hole, feeling the stretch as his hole opened to allow its girth to pop in and out of him. He’d made a discovery about himself and there was no going back. A few days ago he’d tried to pretend like he didn’t want this, like he could just forget it had ever happened. He knew now that was impossible. He’d felt the bliss of being used by men and there was no going back. He craved that bliss now. He was addicted to it. “Thank you for sending me to Mr. Wolf’s Sir.” Mike texted Sir as he squatted on the plug on his bedroom floor. “It was amazing.” “I’m glad you had a good time boy. I hope you made me proud and earned his load.” “He sent me home with a big fat plug inside me to keep his load from leaking out of my loose pussy!” “Good boy! I knew you’d be able to take his first knot.” “Thank you Sir! He said that made me his beta pup and him my Alpha. I hope that’s ok with you Sir!” “That’s why I sent you there boy. Not just to get your hole bred. You could have found raw cock on your own. I sent you to Wolf so he’d stretch you out and help you understand your place more. You liked submitting to him didn’t you? Being his beta?” “Yes Sir! Not as much as being your boy… but it was fucking hot! That knot felt so good in my pussy.” “You’re bouncing on that plug he sent you home with aren’t you?” “Yes Sir!” “Show me!” Mike shifted so he was squatting in front of the mirror, and filmed himself riding the plug. Now that he could see its fat girth sliding in and out of his hole he was amazed he could take it so easily. “Holy shit!” Sir replied to the video. “He really did open you up. How do you feel now that your college boy hole’s been made into a real sloppy fag pussy?” “AMAZING! Sir! Honestly. I can’t thank you enough for sending me there.” “Damn, after he fucked the cum out of you I expected you to retreat for a day or two… feeling guilty about begging to be used again, but you don’t do you? You don’t feel guilty at all boy?” “No Sir. I feel… I feel fucking hot. I can’t believe how good I feel.” “You think your pussy can take another fucking?” “Yes Sir!” “Then come over here, and don’t plan on going back home tonight. I’m going to use my boy’s pussy good.” Mike rushed over to Sir’s house. Sir took him to the second bedroom, a room Mike hadn’t seen before. It was almost exactly like Wolf’s playroom, except not only did it have a sling but also a fuck bench, a rubber covered bed and wall restraints. Mike was stripped naked, his hair cut short and a thin chain with a little lock put a round his neck. Twenty minutes after he arrived his floppy college boy hair had been cut into a crew cut, he’d been collared and he was squatting over the plug Wolf had stuffed in him while gobbling down Sir’s perfect cock. Mike didn’t go home that night. In fact it was two days before he went home. While all the rest of his friends had spent the weekend partying and trying to get laid Mike had spent the weekend in nothing but a revealing jockstrap getting used over and over. Half way through Sunday Sir dropped Mike back off at Wolf’s to take what he called Wolf’s second knot. Mike had spent the rest of the afternoon ass up on the floor as his Alpha worked an even bigger wolf cock into his hole. He’d whimpered as the knot finally sunk deep inside him. On Monday his new collar drew a little attention from the guys at the gym but not one said anything. It seemed like Brad was avoiding him till the end of their workout when Brad texted Mike “Meet me in the bathroom in 10.” Mike found Brad naked and hard when he opened the door to the single occupancy bathroom a few minutes later. “Christy fucking cock blocked me all weekend. I’m horny as shit and need a mouth to fuck.” Mike was on his knees in a flash. Brad was rough this time, bashing his cock into Mike’s mouth. It was like he was taking all his anger at Christy out on Mike’s mouth. Mike didn’t care though. He coughed and spluttered chocking down his friend’s cock. He was in pig heaven. When Brad finally worked out what he needed to and started to fire thick ropes of cum into Mikes mouth, Mike just smiled and swallowed it down. “Fuck… um… thanks man. I needed that.” “Any time,” Mike said, wiping his mouth. “Look, don’t tell anyone about this ok?” “Sure… but… well… tell anyone you want.” “What?” “Tell anyone you want. I love sucking your straight boy dick. If anyone else you know needs an easy mouth or… or hole to fuck, send them my way.” “Shit… you’re serious.” “Damn right I am.” “Well… yeah… ok. I’ll do that.” That night, the first night Mike had spent in his own bed in days, he got a text from another one of his soccer teammates. “Hey… weird question, but Brad said that you might be able to help me out with a problem,” it read. “Yeah!” Mike replied. “Why don’t you come over. I’ll help you out with whatever you need.” An hour later Mike was on his hands and knees while his teammate, his eyes closed tight, pounded his hole. “Fuck, take my cock you fucking slut. Fuck yeah. You like my cock don’t you. You’re a cock loving slut! Fuck yes!” He panted. Mike knew better than to respond. He knew his friend was pretending he was a girl and he didn’t want to break the illusion. It didn’t matter. In the end he still got a hot load pumped into his guts. “Thanks… uh… you know… don’t tell anybody. I’m not gay.” His friend said after he’d gotten dressed and was standing at the door. Mike smiled reassuringly and said the same thing he’d told Brad. “I’m not going to tell anyone, but you can tell whoever you like.” Stunned by his boy’s decent into cock whoring that weekend Sir got Mike on his knees again and shaved his head, making him look like a real proper sub. He’d also gotten Mike a bigger chain and more robust collar, marking him as owned. He told Mike that Good Boys don’t just take the loads of other men, they take whatever men want to give them. That night for the first time Mike swallowed Sir’s piss, and he loved it. A couple of days after that Mike told Sir he wanted to get his nipples pierced. They’d gone right away. The end of the following weekend Sir brought out a little black caged and locked Mike’s cock away. There would be no hiding that he was a sub in the locker room now. Some of the guys noticed, most chose to just pretend they hadn’t seen anything. A couple however suddenly saw their friend in a new light. That afternoon he ended up sucking off two more of his teammates almost one right after the other, and then was summoned to the team captain’s place where he was bent over the bed and fucked. “Take my load faggot,” the team captain said as he pumped his cock into Mike’s willing hole. Hearing what had happened Sir knew it was time. It was time to put Mike through his final test. To really break his mind once and for all. He’d given himself over to being a slut. He’d get fucked by guys he thought were attractive at the drop of a hat, but to really be a good sub Sir needed him to be willing to give it up to anyone. So that Saturday night he drove Mike to the bathhouse, stripped him naked, and blind folded him in the locker room. Then he’d walked his toy through the halls, showing him off as they went. He’d strapped Mike down in the sling and stood back to watch. Man after man had used his boy. He’d thought maybe Mike would tap out after a couple, but each mystery cock seemed to make him hornier. “Breed me! Please! Seed my hole! Breed my pussy! Fuck this cunt!” He’d shouted. Sir pressed his hand forward, feeling his boy’s hole slowly spread around his knuckles. After all the abuse he’d taken the boy’s body barely resisted the new invasion. Mike groaned as his cunt was opened wide to accommodate Sir’s big hand. Slowly it was pushed forward till after one moment of wild stretching it was sucked in side. Mike panted. He grilled stupidly. “Good Boy, good boy.” Sir cooed. “Is that you Sir?” “Yes boy. Its me, and it’s my fist inside your cunt right now.” “Oh fuck!” Mike moaned. With his free hand Sir reached forward and took off Mike’s blind fold. The boy blinked confusedly for a moment before his eyes focused on his Sir’s face. “I’m so proud of you boy. You did so well.” “Thank you Sir! Thank you for this! It was so hot! I don’t even know how many men fucked me. I’m just a hole Sir.” “That’s right boy you are. You’re just a cumdump. A faggot. My fucking faggot hole.” “Yes Sir.” “This is my cunt,” he flexed his fist inside Mikes hole. The boy groaned, “Even after twenty other men have bred it its still mine.” “Twenty?!” “That’s right boy. You’ve got twenty loads from twenty different guys in your guts right now. You’re a real cumdump now. A no loads refused slut.” He pulled his hand out till the widest point and then slid it back in. Mike whimpered. “You’re a fucking faggot.” “I’m a fucking faggot.” “Good Boy.” Sir said, and slipped his hand from Mike’s hole. “No! It felts so good! Sir please!” Sir stepped up and slammed his cock in Mike’s ruined hole. “Don’t worry boy. You’re going to get one last load in this cunt before I take you home.” “Oh thank you Sir. Thank you.” “And one more thing.” Sir reached into the pocket of his leather vest and pulled something out. A thick leather collar with a D ring at the front. He bent forward, his cock forced deep into Mike’s guts, and passed it around the boy’s neck. He did the clasp up and turned it so the ring was facing the front. Then he took out a rectangular dog tag. He held it up for Mike to see. “What does it say boy?” “Property of Sir Jake.” Mike replied breathlessly. “That’s right. You passed the last test. There’s no going back. You’ve been corrupted into the perfect faggot sub, and I’m laying claim to you. Now everyone who fucks you knows that even though they are free to use your sweet cunt, you belong to me.” “Thank you, Sir. Thank you.” Sir clipped the tag to Mike’s collar. “Now, take my fucking load faggot.” THE END

This is a real shame. Some people enjoy web camming, and being recorded, or broadcasting. Whatever term you want to use, you are putting yourself "out there" for people to screen shot or record. For someone to go to this extent, to try and ruin an individual either professionally or with his family, is just despicable. It is the risk you take, and I feel extremely bad for this poster because some so called "friend" decided to take visual evidence and try and basically, ruin his life. It's something we all need to think about, because like he says "being filmed creates an image that never fully goes away". How true. So guys, think about it before jumping on board to doing anything that can be recorded. What happened to him could easily happen to anyone of us.

And we love reading about your tales of debauchery, knowing you still have loads of your ass

The closer we get to July, the more I am thinking of getting a VPN. Said before I'd just let it go once July arrived and the curtain came donw. Starting to reconsider that... I really enjoy it here...

I love writing these with the load(s) still in my ass and the taste of cum still in my throat. It's been two hours since that last load and I love it 😉

Prologue -James I walked into my boss, Anthony’s, office where he stood over his desk. He was a few years older than me but I doubt he was past his mid thirties. He was about my height at 5’8 but had a slightly thicker frame. He had his brown hair cut short and a thick beard covering most of his face. He wore the standard blue suit with a black dress shirt he wore almost everyday. “Good, you’re here” he said as I sat down in front of his desk. “I have urgent business that I need you to fly out and take care of.” “Fly where sir” I asked somewhat surprised as travel had never been mentioned in my job before. “ northern Maine” he responded “ we have a client there who is willing to make a massive donation, over 20 pieces, but wants one of us there to make sure they make it here safe.” I had not expected travel to be involved in working for a nonprofit art museum but I was scared to refuse as this job paid surprisingly well and I had only just started. “I’m sorry sir but I just got married and I hadn’t expected travel to be a part of this position” I said hesitantly. “Oh of course I understand which is why we’ll be covering all your expenses and paying you double time for the duration of the trip. I am sorry to your new bride but this trip shouldn’t be more than a few days.” Anthony said reassureidly “Well if you’re offering all of that Ill have to accept, when would I leave” I asked surprised by the amount I’d be making to babysit paintings “Right now, we have a car downstairs to take you to LAX, and a bag with some clothes and other essentials.” He said walking around the desk and towards the door gesturing me to follow. “Wait I thought I’d have time to discuss it with my wife first.” I said hurriedly standing up to follow him out “Oh no this has to be done now, don’t worry I’m sure your wife will understand.” He said walking us towards the elevator. “You can call her from the car if you’re worried” he added as we stepped out of the elevator towards the car. “Um ok I guess I’ll go then” I said timidly. “Atta boy” Anthony said before hugging me goodbye. As I sat in the car I tried to call my wife but it went to voicemail. I left her a message explaining where I was going as I walked into LAX and checked my bag. -Anthony “ yes master he’s on his way and he’s perfect for you, just your type and prime for corruption.” I spoke into the phone between moans as I rode a massive dildo. “ good I’m glad to hear you’ll soon have another brother” master spoke through the phone as I twisted my pierced nipple encircled by a bright red biohazard tattoo “ I can’t wait master” I said before he hung up. I remembered my first time meeting master and slammed my cunt onto the massive rubber cock even more vigorously to the thought before I felt myself orgasm, toxic cum shooting out of my caged cock.

Absolutely. Rimming is the ultimate foreplay, especially with a bottom that appreciates Ass to mouth. I'm lucky to have two fuck buds who love ass to mouth and whose homes love to be filled using only my saliva for lube.

IF rimming becomes a kink in your playbook, it will happen by your own natural desires to get your tongue 👅 into the hole you're playing with. Don't force it or feel you must Rim your partner. IF it happens YOU'LL probably love it but, it doesn't matter if you don't. Keep playing & be a pig for YOUR KINKS.

Part 2 ( the parts will be shorter) "If you want this Cock, you'll have to earn it" He turned around, his back to me, and pulled down his jeans just enough to expose his ass. The smell hit me first—musky, salty, the sweat of a long day. He spread his cheeks, and I hesitated. “Lick it, boy,” he ordered, his voice dripping with contempt. No, absolutely not! I would never do that! Those rules, which I had followed up until that point, were pounding in my head. But I thought of where I was and what I was doing. I'm sitting on my knees, naked, looking straight at an older mans asshole, with a bin of used condoms to my right. An even older man, perverted, sitting on his computer chair, watching the whole thing. The whole scene was humiliating, and as I thought this was cock got even more excited. I waddled forward, approaching this Man's hole awkwardly. I relived his hands from exposing his asshole, instead using mine. "What am I doing?". But, without really thinking, I plunged in, like diving into the deep end. I obeyed, my tongue working its way around his hole, tasting the salt and musk. It was humiliating, degrading, and yet, it was exactly what I’d been craving. My cock stiffened further, a traitorous response to the shame coursing through me. I licked, kissed his hole with passion, knowing what presents I would get in return. “Good boy,” he muttered, a twisted note of approval in his voice. When he finally turned back around, his cock was fully hard, jutting out from his body like a weapon. He grabbed my chin again, forcing me to look up at him. "I had a few beers before I came over, and I need to pee." He looked over at Steve. "Do you mind if we use your bathroom?" Steve nodded. I wondered. We?

Well, if you are married at the courthouse by a Justice of the Peace, you DO have all the benefits of heterosexual marriages. What I was posting was my opinion that ALL marriages should be civil marriages. If a couple wants a religious ceremony, fine. But, it would be superfluous. The only thing that would legally matter would be the civil marriage. In my view, Alabama does it the right way, albeit for the wrong reasons. In Alabama, a couple completes a form and both signatures are notarized. They submit the form to a probate court with the appropriate fee, and they're married. No marriage license, officiant or ceremony needed. If the couple wants a ceremony, religious or otherwise, they can do so but it is legally irrelevant.

Kyros Christian.

Ohh yaa defenetly. And whatever oozes out of our fuck holes!

"dominance of religion ..... " appears to be, being used as a tool for gain, much as with the Roman Catholic Inquisition, the Salem Witch Trials, Henry VIII & other religious or quasi religious occurrences. Trump & the Heritage Foundation are simply using the "out of mainstream Christian" evangelicals 🤔??? as an electoral base because they will inevitably be of a lower socio-economic-education group & be more malleable & prone to manipulation by people with strong coercive speeches that prey on this groups fears of social & economic injustices. Trump is using religion as a method to attain his desires rather than for the populations benefit.

Part IV: Moses’ Plan “You want this, don’t you, baby brother?” Cole’s breathing is ragged, skin flushed, still bent over the couch. Nico pulls out slow, like he’s reluctant to let go. His cock slips free with a wet sound—a slick, messy echo of how deep he’d been. Spit and sweat cling to the open swell of Cole’s hole, glistening under the low light. It wasn’t just sex. It was a handoff. Cole shudders. His back arches just slightly, and his thighs tremble. I’m still standing beside him. Watching. Cole tries to move—shifts like he’s going to push himself upright, maybe find a blanket, maybe pretend this didn’t happen. “No,” I say quietly. He freezes. “Stay.” My voice is calm. Not a bark. Not a command. Just final. Cole slowly sinks back down, palms flat against the cushion, body slack and waiting. His head drops a little, like he’s embarrassed—or maybe just floating. Either way, he obeys. Good. I step back finally, circling around, grabbing the chair again and sinking into it like a man settling in for a show that’s only just started. My hand finds the pipe again—habit—and I flick the torch once, then let it die. Not yet. I look at Nico. He hasn’t said shit. Still catching his breath, but I can feel him watching me. Watching us. Guilt in his eyes, but also heat. He knows I’m taking over now. He knows he’s already out of this dynamic. I look back at Cole. He’s still slumped forward, holes twitching, chest rising and falling like he just ran ten miles barefoot. But there’s a stillness in him now—like he’s waiting for someone to decide what happens next. So I do. “Nico,” I say without looking at him, “did you give him anything?” There’s a beat. Then Nico answers, voice tight. “G. Just G. I measured it.” I measured it—I thought mockingly. As if I care. My eyes drop to Cole again. His body is loose, lips parted, eyes heavy. I clock the microtwitches. The way his fingers dig into the couch. The lag in his blinking. Yeah. He’s on it. “You took G?” I ask him directly. He nods once. “First time?” Another nod. “How much?” “Only a little,” Cole replies. Liar. But I’ll let it slide—for now. “Did you smoke any T?” Cole hesitates. Then, quieter than before: “Yes. But tonight was my first time with that too.” I glance at Nico. He doesn’t react. Two liars. That tells me everything. “Come here,” I say. Cole shifts—starts to get up, one leg moving under him, weight shifting onto his foot like he’s going to stand— “No,” I say again. Sharper this time. “On all fours.” His eyes flick to mine, wide for a second. Then, slowly, he lowers back down. Curls his fingers against the floor. Crawls. And fuck, it’s good. The sight of him moving like that—post-fuck, half-high, obedient—is better than any hit I’ve taken tonight. When he reaches me, I let the silence linger. He kneels in front of me. Legs parted slightly, body swaying. Sweat slicks his chest. His cock’s soft now, but twitching. Still needy. I reach out and tilt his chin up. Two fingers under his jaw. “You feel good?” He nods. I wipe a smear of spit from his bottom lip with my thumb. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even blink. “How high are you?” He breathes out. “I don’t know.” I smile, just slightly. “You’re about to find out.” His throat works, swallowing that. Good. Behind me, Nico doesn’t move. He’s just watching now—silent, hands in his lap, mouth drawn tight. Maybe regretting what he started. Or maybe just jealous I’m doing it better. I reach for the pipe—holding it up where Cole can see. His mouth opens—lips parted, eyes soft, expecting me to raise the pipe to his mouth like it’s medicine. Like I’m here to take care of him. I click my tongue, smirk, and hold his eyes—half scold, half praise. This tells me everything I need to know about how Nico’s been treating him. Like he still deserves gentleness. But I’m not Nico. I’m not afraid to break him. “You want more?” Cole nods again. Quicker this time. I raise an eyebrow. “Then beg, faggot.”

I danger is intoxicating.

Oh fuck yaa felching piss is so fuckin hot

Looking for guys doing the classic "ass in the air, no load refused" anon scene. Older preferred as I want very experienced ass. C'mon community cumdumps, I need your services!

It seems the more the legislators try to wrap cotton wool around everyone, the more that freedoms are reduced while the incidents of crimes increase as more things become criminal. Whilst kids should be protected from paedophiles, a lot more can be done by parents by the combined use of communicating with their kids, supplemented by barrier software such as NetNanny to keep the innocent away from bad sites. As a kid back in the 1950s most families had an Uncle Ernie that the kids were warned about. However we still had access to "Health and Efficiency" magazines, courtesy of older brothers. In the 1970s I ran a scout troop, and those kids were street wise. They knew what behaviour was inappropriate, and the older boys looked out for the younger boys, they kept them away from risky areas. Part of the problem with the internet is that the parents are woefully ignorant of the risks and have not educated their kids to cope with the risks. They abrogate that responsibility to the State.

beautifully done!

Definitely on my back, to me eye contact is important. My nipples are hard wired to both my dick and my hole, so I like to have a hand free. Being on "all fours" limits my arms, though being pushed up against a wall I can balance myself and still gets my hands to where they need to be. I am open to suggestions from the top, I like it to be a decision we make together, not limited to either his demands or mine.

Hahaha... The Guardian. There's "trustworthy" source of information. Nah, they're not an incredibly left-wing biased "news" source or anything. Noooooo.... Hahaha

I read all these messages from guys from the UK and I wonder what exactly the problem is? Why not use a VPN? My Norton anti-virus software comes with a free VPN so what exactly is the problem?

I barebacked my way through the '70s, '80s, '90s, '00s, '10s and '20s and am still negative. I know for a fact that poz guys have barebacked me. I took a lot of loads when I worked in Edinburgh, then the HIV capital of the UK.

Fuck yes me too. it turned me into such a nasty pig slut.

I like a fluid cocktail that has piss, cum, spit of various kinds

I don’t jus like it. I love it. I crave it and need it all the time now. it is my drink of choice whenever possible

I have a current stable of four Brazilian faves in OF. (Most are also found on JFF.) The hung & versatile gbakariok22 (same handle on both) is so, so sexy to me. He seems to really enjoy sex... cums up a storm! Thanks to him, I discovered samuelhodecker (same handle on both)...tall, handsome, and openly poz. gbakariok22 (Gael? unsure of his name) did a scene with maxxxbitte (same handle on both; he has more content on JFF) that sent me into orbit. Enter Max into my regular wank rotation. Max does a scene with a young man named Erick (according to his X account). Erick's OF stage handle is dotsp22 and I couldn't get through it—not because I nutted at Max's delicious DILF ass getting railed*, but because of Erick. He's something like 6'3", 9" endowment, and an ass that could sail ships. I had to find more of this stud. And that's how I arrived at his bottoming scene with a performer called OnlyRod. I counted 3 orgasms & cumshots from Erick. Oh, Brazil... *because that has definitely happened before

Wish I could have this same experience... 😈

Author's Note: This is a chapter-based novella that follows a variety of characters. Each chapter will have a disclaimer about who is narrating it. I will post the chapters as I write them, so please comment to encourage me to continue. It is a work of dark fiction. Fetishes include intentional HIV infection, kidnapping, rape, and torture. 01 TONY “You have HIV”, the doctor said. My name is Antonio Mancini, I live in Sicily, Italy. I am the heir to the Cosa Nostra Cartel, a mafia group from my region. My father is the leader of this group and since I was little I learned to have discipline. But I have always been addicted to sex. And I have never worried much about protection. A few months ago, I met two girls at a club, we danced and we had a good time. They really liked the drugs I had with me. I was sure I was going to have sex with them. But when we were walking to the car, about to leave, they said they couldn't leave their friend who was with them to the club. I said I could give the guy a ride, but they said they would only have sex with me if he was included. I had never had sex with a guy before, but I was curious. Within minutes of us getting to my house, I was balls deep in him, hard as a rock. I completely forgot about the girls and I enjoyed the night like never before with that man. They left and he stayed to sleep with me. He also fucked me hard and came about three times inside my ass. That was the best night of my life. After having sex with a man for the first time, I was hooked. Sex with another male was so much better than sex with a woman. Over the next few weeks, I went to every gay club in town and had sex with every type of man I could find. White, brown, blond, black, Asian, Latino. I didn't care, I just wanted the thrill of another guy cumming in my guts. Whether they used a condom or not was always their choice, I never cared about that. And I really liked to get bred. Meanwhile, the mafia's work continued. I always carried a gun, participated in transactions and followed my father everywhere. I had to learn to be a leader like him, after all, I would inherit all of that. What my father didn't know was that I had always been a bit more sadistic than he was. I had always enjoyed torturing and killing other people. When he sent one of his henchmen to do the dirty work, I would volunteer to do it in their place. For this reason, no one ever suspected that I enjoyed having sex with men. The problem was that a few months after I started having sex with other guys, I felt very sick. It felt like the flu, I had a fever, I was shaking and I had chills. I even became delirious at times, it felt like my body was going to give out. A family doctor said it was just a cold and gave me some medicine, but he told me to go to a hospital and do some tests. When I was feeling better, I went to a private clinic that didn't keep patient records. The doctor ordered some blood tests and now I was getting the results. When I heard I had HIV, I was in shock for about three seconds, but then I realized it made sense. I had been letting strangers cum inside my ass for months, it was bound to happen at some point or another. I was never afraid of dying, I learned to be brave since I was a child, because of my line of work. Knowing that I had a deadly virus inside me was nothing compared to my father's threats. "You can start treatment immediately," the doctor said. "What do I have to do?" I asked. "I'm going to order some more tests to check your viral load and find out what type of virus you have, but you can start taking the medications that make the viral load decrease. In the first few weeks, you'll feel some side effects, but they'll soon go away." "No," I replied. "I don't understand," the doctor said. "I don't want to take anything for now, I'll think about what I'm going to do," I explained. "I don't want any strong medicine destroying my body." "It's the virus that's destroying your immune system, not the medicine," he tried to insist. "But if you don't want to get treatment, I can't force you, it's your choice. I just have to remind you that you shouldn't have sex with anyone without a condom, even oral sex. Because infecting another person on purpose is a crime. You don't want to go to jail for having sex with someone. Are your sexual partners men or women?" "I don't see how that's any of your business." I left his office without saying anything else. I committed crimes as often as I changed clothes, so I wasn't worried about one more crime. By the time I arrived at the Cosa Nostra headquarters, the doctor’s appointment was already far from my mind. His words, the ones that tried to convince me that something was wrong with me, seemed insignificant compared to what awaited me. My father was sitting in his chair, as always, with a cigar between his fingers and a gaze that seemed to pierce anyone who dared to lie to him. He looked up when I entered, and I felt the weight of his question before he even asked it. “Where have you been?” His voice was calm, but I knew his tone well. It was a trap, a way to test my loyalty. “I made some rounds in the city,” I replied, keeping my gaze fixed on his. I thought about saying that I went to visit my mother, but that would have been pointless. I hadn’t seen her in months, and he knew that she meant nothing to either of us. She had simply been the one chosen to bear the heir, and nothing more. He didn’t ask any more questions, and I felt a fleeting relief. “I have a mission for you,” he said, taking the cigar out of his mouth and pointing it at me. “There’s a journalist, fresh out of college, causing chaos in the city. He sticks his nose in where he doesn’t belong and talks too much. His name is Carlo Barbieri. He thinks he can solve every crime in Sicily by himself. We need to find a way to silence the boy.” I remained silent, waiting for him to continue. I could not rush Aurelio Mancini. My father didn’t like to be pressured, and I knew he would say what needed to be said in his own time. “He’s covering a restaurant awards ceremony. Then he’ll go home alone. Take two of your men and kidnap the boy.” “When will this happen?” I asked. “Tonight,” he replied, as if I had asked an obvious question. “It will be done,” I said without hesitation. “Where should I take the journalist?” “Keep him hidden in your place for a few days. I will soon give you instructions to take him to the docks.” “What are you going to do with him?” I asked. My father smiled, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “There is a faction leader in Nigeria who is interested in a new sex toy, because his huge dick broke the last one. He will pay well.” That was nothing new. We had done similar business before, but never with a journalist. Carlo Barbieri was a well-known name, and his disappearance would cause a stir. But my father didn’t seem worried about that. He had everything planned, as always. “Understood,” I said, nodding. “I’ll take care of it.” “I don’t want him to get hurt, that would decrease his value,” my father said and just turned his attention back to his cigar, as if the matter were already over. I left the room, feeling the weight of this mission on my shoulders. Two of my men were already waiting outside, and I waved them over. “We have work to do tonight,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Get ready.” They didn’t ask any questions. They knew that when I spoke like that, it was best to just obey. I walked back to my car, thinking about what was to come. Carlo Barbieri was just a young man, someone who believed he could change the world with words. He didn’t know that in Sicily, words had a price, and I was about to exact his. The night fell quickly, and we positioned ourselves near the restaurant where the awards ceremony would take place. The journalist left around midnight, alone, as my father had said. He walked distractedly, unaware that he was being followed. When he turned into a dark street, I gave the signal. My men acted quickly, covering his mouth with a cloth soaked in chloroform and dragging him into the car. He didn't have a chance to fight.

Part V: Moses’ POV “Then beg, faggot.” Cole’s lips part. His throat works like he’s choking on air. Then— “Please. I want more. I… need it.” Still on his knees. Eyes glassy, staring up like I’m holding salvation. Like the pipe’s communion and I’m the fucking priest. Then an idea struck me. I set the pipe down, watching the disappointment flood Cole’s face. I nod to the floor. “Turn around. Bend over. Hands down. Arch your back.” He hesitates. Then obeys. He folds forward like he’s done this before. Like submission is muscle memory. His knees spread, arms planted, back curved—head hanging low, waiting for whatever I decide to do to him. “Look at you,” I mutter. “Fucking perfect.” I move in behind him. Crouch low. Let my hand hover—then slap his ass. Just a tease. Just to hear the sound. “Jesus,” he gasps. I smirk. “Didn’t think you had it in you.” I slap the other cheek harder—watch the skin bloom red. His hips jerk. His fingers dig into the floor. But he doesn’t move away. “That’s it. Stay just like that.” I run my hand down his spine until my thumb brushes the slick edge of his hole. Raw. Glistening. Used. He flinches. I spread him open with two fingers, just enough to see the damage done. “Nico’s a greedy fuck,” I whisper. I lean closer—not touching, just hovering. Letting the heat of my breath skim over the most wrecked part of him. “You always been like this?” I say. “All quiet and preppy at the dinner table, but the second someone opens you up—” I slap him again. Sharper. “—you turn into a fuckin’ faggot.” He twitches. Doesn’t deny it. “Still high. Still wanting more. You even know where you are?” “Yes, sir.” Voice ragged. I glance at Nico. Still leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes locked on Cole like he’s watching a car crash in slow motion. “You call him that too?” I ask. Silence. I slap Cole again. “I asked you a question.” “No,” he gasps. “Just you.” I pause. Let that sit. Then palm his ass again. Knead it once. “Good answer, baby brother.” I flick my chin toward Nico. “Come here.” He doesn’t move at first. Then he does. “Spread his hole.” Nico crouches without a word. Uses both hands to pull Cole open, thumbs wide. I turn to grab the vial of G off the coffee table and— Empty. I click my tongue, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve got better. I stand slow. Cole’s still bent. Still twitching. Nico crouched next him, holding him open like a display. “Don’t move a fucking inch,” I say to Cole. Then to Nico—calm, cold: “Come with me.” He stands. Follows. We move down the hall, into my bedroom. The door clicks shut behind us, sealing the heat in. The tension’s different here—private. Quieter. Worse. I head straight to my dresser. Bottom drawer. Locked. Click. Open. I pull out a vial. Dark glass. No label. Stronger G. Pure. Got my bitch high off it just the other night. Instead of a dropper, I pull out two oral syringes with it. Behind me, Nico shifts his weight. That silence—the pause just before something dangerous happens. “You sure about this?” he asks. Voice flat. Not fear. Just that low-end dealer instinct, sniffing out volatility. I don’t turn. I draw the syringe full. G clean inside the barrel. Enough to tilt the night off its axis. “You saw him. He crawled to me,” I say. “Begging for it.” “You gonna dose him that heavy?” “Hell yeah. This time though? Straight up the ass. I’ve already got him in position.” That lands. He adjusts his stance. No longer cool. Just… alert. “You’re pushing it.” “Yeah?” I turn. “You gonna cry about it?” Nico’s jaw ticks. “I don’t cry. I just don’t waste good product on someone who’s gonna pass out before the fun starts.” “He’ll handle it,” I say. “Then again, so what if he doesn’t?” We lock eyes. Two wolves. And something soft, broken, and ready waiting in the other room. “You don’t think this is overkill?” I step in. Real close. Smell the sweat on him. The testosterone he tries to wear like armor. “You thinking about tapping out?” “I’m thinking this looks like obsession.” “It is.” “And you’re okay with that?” “I’m fucking hard because of it.” He glances—just once—over at the supplies on the dresser. “You gonna hit him with T too?” “Stacked,” I say as I walk back over to the dresser, putting a second syringe together. One part water. One part T. “One plunge after the other. Straight into the hole you just fucked. Straight to that faggot’s brain.” “I don’t know, Moses. That’s a big fucking dose of G.” “That’s the point.” His brow furrows. “You squeamish now, Nico?” “Fuck off.” “Nah. You flinching? After you fucked him like he belonged to you? What? You got feelings for him or something?” He squares up. “You’re playing dirty.” “So leave.” “Maybe I will.” “You won’t.” “Why not?” I press one of the syringes against his chest. Lean in. Voice low, like a secret. “Because you wanna watch me break him. You just don’t wanna admit it.” That gets him. He grabs the syringe. His mouth curls. A grin. A snarl. Right where I want him. “I already broke him.” I laugh, clicking my tongue. “You think I won’t outdo you?” “I’d like to see you try.” We hold that moment. Then I pull back, grabbing the other syringe off the dresser. “Then come watch me ruin this faggot.”

YES! More please!

Scotty’s Tree House – part three Boy Scotty got his first sloppy hole in Daddy Paul’s Busy Sling, while Taking continuous deep hits on daddy’s pipe, As well as from Numerous pipes and bongs of daddy’s customers and his other trap house stable whores , all Working Hard to break in Scotty’s Fresh New cunthole. “Sit on daddy’s face, you dirty methed up whore,” Instructed Paul to Scotty, so he could suck out as much dirty pink colored cum out of the newly wrecked and bloodied hole. “Turn around And kiss your real daddy, bitch,” Shouted Paul to Scotty, Feeding his new boy gobs of the pink cum, Commanding him, “taste it swallow it all down your fucking throatpussy.” Scotty was so high from the first two hours of heavy clouding. And now it wad time for the six pigs to fuck their SuperCharged Chem⚡️Piss into both of Scotty’s holes. The fucked up spun up boy sluT-in-training Couldn’t get enough, Scotty moaning as pissing cocks rammed into each end of him. After another hour of heavy piss play, daddy Paul decided to ease up on his new whore, “We’re gonna take a break, hose you off, let daddy give you your Mohawk and let you lay in my master bed And show you videos on slamming. How we pigs really fly💉💪💥🚀 you fuckin spun slam pig!” You’ll always look like this from now on bitch. And tomorrow you’re gonna be getting lots of piercings and tats. I’ll be setting you up with supplies shards pipe torch bong and your own private locker room here. Nothings free bitch you will be rent paying for it For all the supplies you’re given. You’re gonna keep working that job at your gas station for a while and then afterwards you’re gonna quit that because you’ll earning more money for me here and down at the riverfront. Rest up fucker, you’re gonna get your first slam in a little while.” Paul slammed the door shut and Scotty lay wide eyed awake in dark, Stroking his cock thinking nothing of getting fucked by more dirty pigs, taking their bugged up cum and piss down his eager throatcunt and up his hungry asspussy The screen in Daddy Paul’s bedroom played endless group slam videos, pubic toilet and cruise forest slam fucking and even Scotty Getting group sling fucked and piss fucked earlier. Scotty fuckkin loved what he saw! Crystal time goes quicker than weed time, So daylight was already showing through daddy Paul’s window, as Paul and two buddies entered the room, hauled Scotty out of bed and into the sling. “Your daddy likes to slam a .4 that’s what I’m gonna start you off with. I want to start you strong so you’ll handle it better next time. After you feel the needle in you you’re gonna want to cough you’ll feel a big heat rush race up toward your head, so raise your arm and cough and it’s blastoff time, bitch!” First Time Slam 💉Scotty coughed like a true pig and was 💥🚀in orbiT End of Part 3

I love every form of piss. I love to drink it, especially directly from the tap, but it happened not once that I drank it from a glass or bottle. But I also like to shower or be filled up with it.

Let's see I've done it at 15, 17, 19, 22, 23, 25, 28, 30, 32

Such a waste of precious cum...

Love rimming. Both eating a nice hole and then getting mine rimmed. Getting my hole rimmed is something that makes me absolutely beg to be fucked.

I'm a smaller guy and enjoy missionary when my top pulls my legs up around his shoulders so he can bury his cock deep. I especially love when his balls slap my ass with each thrust until he fills me up with his seed. That's my favorite position...or whatever my top at the moment likes is awesome too. I'm ready now.

It was a slow Tuesday night at the Hollywood adult theater in Lake City. Just a handful of guys, none of whom wanted to stick their dick in my mouth. That was unfortunate. I really wanted to take a lovely prick in my mouth, nurse to a full erection and enjoy the taste of semen filling my mouth. I love sucking dick and I'm good at it. Too bad the closet cases and "straight" guys infesting the theater wouldn't let me show them a good time. I was sitting in the gay room alone, idly stroking my cock and watching a pretty boy take a rough raw fucking from a big dicked black guy. I envied the kid. I didn't have the guts to bareback and take loads like I really wanted to. I'd only had two raw cocks cream my ass, and that was only because I was really drunk. Both times I'd been anxious for months afterwards, until I tested negative. That didn't stop me from jerking off remembering the feel of a bare cock in me, the intensely arousing knowledge that the cock was spewing cum in my ass, the feel of it oozing out of my butt and the taste of it when I wiped it off with my fingers and licked them clean. Ah well, I hadn't been drinking that Tuesday night and would content myself to sucking and swallowing. Now, if some faggot would just allow me do that. The door to the theater slammed and few minutes later a middle-aged white guy walked in the room and looked around a bit and left. Figures, goes directly to the gay room, sees a queer with his cock out and leaves. Oh, well. Not long after that the guy came back and looked at me. He stepped directly in front of me, unzipped and took his cock out. I took my glasses off and licked my lips and he stepped forward and stuck his very nice uncut, soft dick in my mouth. At last, a fag who knows what he wants! I lovingly worshipped his prick. I love uncut cocks, especially when they're soft as they slide in my mouth. I love slipping my tongue under the foreskin and licking the head, enjoying the distinct tastes uncut guys get when they aren't too scrupulous about washing. Before long I had him fully hard, a lovely seven inches of moderately thick meat. Unfortunately he pulled out and walked away, stroking his length. Ah, shit! Tease me and walk off. Just my luck. I had just about just about decided to jerk off to the video when the guy came back and stuck his dick in my mouth again. I nursed him again and was starting to taste precum when he pulled out and sat down next to me. He turned his head to me and leaned forward. I did the same and he kissed me aggressively. I returned the kiss eagerly. I love making out with tops when they're as good at it as this guy was. He murmured in my ear "I want fuck you your ass." "Mmm, that would fun. What's your HIV status?" "I'm negative, tested last week." "Great. Use a condom." "Absolutely." He stood up, took a condom out of his pocket and rolled it on his cock. I checked and it was lubed. I stood up and assumed the position, bent over a chair back. "Let me open you up a little." A lubed finger slid in me and worked my ass, then another. He was a little rough and it hurt a little. He rubbed a thick lube in me and got me ready. Fingers pulled out, I felt the condom covered dick rub my asshole and shoved in hard. He was a hard, fast fuck, pounding my ass relentlessly. I was in heaven. He must have screwed me for 15 or 20 minutes. Finally, he humped in hard and held. "Breeding you, bitch! Knocking you up!" Those words puzzled me, no man had ever said that when he fucked me. Whatever, it was a great fuck. My ass was thoroughly reamed out. He pulled out of me and I sat down. He had pulled tissues out and was pulling the condom off his cock. I motioned to him and he stuck his wet cock in my mouth. I carefully licked and sucked him clean, enjoying the taste. Odd though, there was a tangy, greasy edge to it that I'd never tasted before. He leaned down and kissed me, smiling. "Thanks for a great fuck. Welcome to the club." He wrapped the condom with a tissue, dropped them in a nearby trash can and left. I sat with a pleasantly sore ass, puzzling over his last remark. Surely he could tell I had had dicks in my ass before. One of the guys who had watched me get fucked sat down and took my dick in his hands. Mmm, good. I'd love a blowjob or handjob while enjoying that freshly fucked feeling. We made out while we played with each other's cock. He was was large and hard and oozing precum. After a few minutes he broke off and whispered to me. "Do you know that guy?" "No, never saw him before. Why?" Do you know your HIV status? He's poz." The bottom dropped out of my stomach. He had lied to me. Never the less I responded "I'm neg, but that's ok, he used a condom." "Are you sure?" "Yeah, I saw him put it on, felt it when he was in my ass and saw him take it off and throw it in that trash can" pointing to the receptacle in which I had seen the top drop the condom and tissues. The guy reached over and gingerly fished out the tissues and condom, handed the wad of crumpled tissues to me saying simply "Check it." I unwrapped the tissues and looked. The condom was broken and bunched up. I felt the condom and felt what I thought was vaseline, then stood up and looked at the seat of the chair. There was a puddle there. I wiped some up and sniffed. Semen. The guy had doctored the rubber and shot a poz load in my ass. "Fuck. He shot in my ass." "Yeah. I thought as much. He's famous for stealthing guys." "How do you know he's poz?" "He told me. I'm poz too. He's fucked me before. I wish I'd had a chance to tell you. When he fingered your ass did it hurt?" "Yeah, it did. Usually I open really easy, with no pain. His nails were probably a little too long." "That was no accident. He was prepping you for his load. Scratching your asshole and rectum so you'd bleed and be more likely to get infected. I'm sorry, but my guess is that the virus is already in your bloodstream." "What can I do?" "Not much. Stock up on soup and electrolyte drinks. If you get the flu in the next few weeks it means you're infected. Go get tested later." I was sick to my stomach. I'd just been infected with HIV. My dick, however, was rock hard for the first time that evening. The guy next to me stroked my cock. "Odd reaction to getting stealthed." I was breathing hard. I realized that taking a poz load and almost surely getting infected had turned me on more than I'd been in ages. The hand on my cock felt great and I was about to shoot. I kissed the guy next to me and whispered to him "Fuck me and shoot another load of poz cum in me." My cock erupted when I said that. I really meant it. I was free. N o need to use condoms ever again or refuse any man's cock and cum. I was infected with HIV and didn't care if I got other diseases. "I'm really turned on watching you getting fucked and infected. I'd love to fuck your sloppy hole and make it a sure thing. Are you sure?" He held his hand to my mouth and I licked my last neg load from his fingers. I stood up, bent down, and licked the puddle of cum off the seat and tasted semen, assjuice and the coppery taste of blood. Infected, for sure. "Yes, do it. Make sure I'm knocked up." I bent over the back of the chair, reached back and spread my ass cheeks. The oozing head of his infected cock rubbed my asshole and he shoved in hard. My cock was rigid again, although usually it took a while to recover. I was so turned on knowing I had a dirty cock in me and was about to knowingly take dirty cum. He rammed his dick in me, fucking me as hard as the other guy had done earlier. I was in heaven, free at last to glory in pure faggot sex with no worries about anything but pleasing the cock in my ass. He hammered in and shuddered. I could feel his cock jerk and twitch and felt warm wetness in my guts. He moaned in my ear. "Pozzing your ass faggot! Fuckin' infecting you!" My cock twitched and I squirted my soon-to-be dirty cum onto the floor. One of the guys watching bent down and licked it up. My cock stayed hard. The guy rose from the floor, pulled a chair in front of me and bent over it. I stepped up and slid my newly infected cock in his ass. I wonder if he'd heard what the second poz guy had said to me and wondered if he cared. The guy was wet and I'd seen cum oozing out of him. I reveled in the feel of his slick asshole and the knowledge that my cock was bathed in strange cum. In spite of having shot two loads in a few minutes I emptied my balls in him quickly. I stayed in, enjoying the feel of his tight butt on my hard cock. Something nuzzled my well used asshole. I looked around and saw the first guy who'd fucked poz cum into me. He slid into my ass and whispered in my ear "How does it feel to be Another Infected Dicksucker, Son?"

I went through similar feelings. The pozzing stories on here are hot but in reality it's the last thing i want. I have toyed with going bb for sometime but was never brave enough to take the plunge, (pun intended). I was persuaded by a bb vers guy to go on Prep. It's a bit intimidating at first for a married man to attend a gum clinic but in reality nobody bats an eyelid. I'm now on event based prep and fucking bb and loving it. I have no desire to get pozzed and accept i might pick up other STIs but they can be treated. Prep is free in the UK. Get on Prep and enjoy BB.

I absolutely love it, both was.