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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

Part 1 - True Story - Written by “Cole” in the POV of Nico. “Took your sweet time.” I said as I stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind me. My gaze flicks over Cole—assessing. “Moses home?” I don’t wait for an answer. Just brush past him like I belong here—because, honestly, I do. This house has been a second home for years. Don’t even know why I knocked. “No, he’s not.” Cole’s voice is tight, annoyed. “And you’re gonna get me in trouble. I’m not supposed to have anyone over.” I scoff. “Relax, tiny. It’s just me.” Cole—Moses’ kid brother, always trailing after us, always trying to keep up. I’ve known him since he was a scrawny little thing with skinned knees and too much to prove. I drop onto the couch like I own the place, stretching my arms over the backrest. “Happy late birthday, by the way. The big one-eight.” I smirk, eyes flicking to him. “Senior year treating you good?” Cole crosses his arms, shifting his weight from foot to foot like he’s debating whether to kick me out or let it slide. He settles on glaring. “Yeah, sure. Feels exactly the same, except now I get lectures about college and taxes.” I huff out a laugh. “Welcome to adulthood, kid. It’s all paperwork and disappointment from here.” Cole rolls his eyes, but there’s something in them—maybe amusement, maybe irritation. “You’re not exactly a role model, Nico.” I smirk. “Never claimed to be.” I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “What, you got big plans or something? College? World domination?” “Don’t know,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Just trying to get through the year.” I nod, because yeah, that’s fair. High school’s a whole mess of bullshit, and Cole’s always been the type to overthink things. “You’ll figure it out.” He scoffs. “Wow. So wise. Truly, I am blessed by your insight.” “Hey, you’re the one who said I’m not a role model.” I grin, kicking my feet up onto the coffee table. “Now stop whining and put on a movie or something. If I’m stuck waiting for Moses, I might as well be entertained.” Cole groans but grabs the remote anyway and begins scrolling through options. He can complain all he wants—he’s not getting rid of me that easily. I watch him, letting my eyes trace over his profile—sharp but soft in a way that stands out. He’s got that kind of beauty that sneaks up on you. Perfect complexion, all smooth angles and symmetry. Brown hair always neat, like he actually cares how he looks. Green eyes that somehow manage to look both bored and sharp at the same time. He’s Latino, but you wouldn’t know unless he told you. Not like Moses. Moses got all the Latin genes and left Cole with none. If you lined them up next to each other, no one would guess they were brothers. Moses and I, we look the way people expect men like us to look—tan skin, dark eyes, thick brows, sharp jaws. Built like we were made for violence. Like we’d fuck someone up for looking at us wrong. Cole? He’s the opposite. White-passing, preppy, clean-cut. Small-framed but just toned enough to not look skinny. He looks like he belongs in some private school wearing a sweater over his shoulders, not in this house, not anywhere near people like me or Moses. If he ever got pulled over, the cop would probably call him “son” and send him on his way. And the best part? He has no idea. No idea his big brother’s keeping me in business. No idea I sell meth. No idea Moses does it, either. I wonder if he’d look at me differently if he knew. If he’d stop pretending like I’m just some annoying family friend taking up space on his couch. He exhales sharply, still scrolling. “Jesus, there’s nothing on.” I smirk. “Maybe you’re just bad at picking.” “Maybe you can shut up.” I chuckle, shaking my head. He’s got bite when he wants to. But I bet he’s never needed to actually fight. Bet no one’s ever looked at him like a threat. Cole keeps scrolling, eyes flicking across the screen like he’s actually weighing his options. I’m not sure if he’s taking his time just to piss me off or if he really is this indecisive. Probably both. I stretch out, watching him frown at the TV. “Hurry up, tiny. We’ll both be dead before you pick something.” Cole exhales through his nose, then, with a flamboyant exaggeration shoves the remote into my hand. “Here. You pick, since you’re such an expert.” I smirk, settling deeper into the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest. “Finally. You should’ve just admitted you suck at decisions five minutes ago.” I start flipping through the options, not really paying attention. I’m just killing time, waiting for Moses. Then Cole says, “I know what you do, by the way.” My thumb freezes on the remote. I don’t react right away, don’t look at him, just keep scrolling like he didn’t just drop that in my lap. “What are you talking about?” I ask, casual. Too casual. Cole leans back against the couch, arms crossed. He looks at me like he’s waiting for me to stop playing dumb. “I know what you do for work.” I scoff. “I don’t know what you think you know, but—” “You sell,” he cuts in, bluntly. His green eyes don’t waver. “And Moses buys.” A slow pulse of something heavy settles in my chest. I force out a chuckle, shaking my head. “That’s a hell of a thing to accuse someone of, tiny.” Cole just shrugs. “I don’t care.” That makes me glance at him, really look at him. His expression is unreadable, but he’s serious. I let out a slow breath, tossing the remote onto the coffee table. “You don’t care?” I repeat. “You should. Normal people don’t just brush that kind of thing off.” He shrugs again. “I stopped expecting normal a long time ago.” I study him, waiting for him to flinch, to crack, to do anything that makes me think he’s just trying to get a reaction. But he doesn’t. Instead, he tilts his head slightly. “What’s it like?” I frown. “What’s what like?” “That world,” he says, vague but somehow precise. “The dealing, the using. The whole thing. What does it feel like?” I roll my tongue over my teeth, considering. “Why do you wanna know?” “Just curious.” His voice is light, but there’s something underneath it. Something deeper. I think about lying, brushing it off, telling him it’s nothing, but I don’t. “It feels like control,” I say finally. “Like you’ve got the whole world at your feet. And like none of it matters at the same time.” Cole nods, like that makes perfect sense to him. He exhales slowly, then looks at me again. “Can I try some?” That pulls a sharp laugh from me. “Funny.” “I’m serious.” I narrow my eyes. “Not gonna happen.” Cole doesn’t back down. “Why not?” “Because it’s not for you.” He gives me a look, one I can’t quite place. “Maybe I don’t want to be me for a while.” His voice is quiet, but the weight of it lingers. I don’t say anything right away. I just watch him, this kid who has everything lined up for him, who has no idea what he’s asking for. “Go get drunk or something,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Find some other way to let go.” “I don’t want to drink.” His jaw tightens. “I want to feel what you feel.” That makes something inside me twitch, but I lie. “You don’t.” He holds my gaze. “You don’t know what I want.” I exhale sharply, shaking my head. “Not happening, Cole.” But he doesn’t drop it. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, studying me. “You know about ‘pnp’?” I frown. “The hell is that?” “Party and play.” He watches me, waiting to see if the words land. When I don’t react, he explains. “It’s a thing in the gay scene. Hooking up while high. Mostly meth, sometimes coke or G.” Felt that twitch again, but in my cock that time. “And?” I ask, voice flat. Cole leans forward. Calm, calculated—like he’s thought about this for a while. “I’m going to college next year. I’m gonna end up smoking at some point. You might not know, but it’s popular in my hookup culture.” His lips press together for a second, then he looks me dead in the eye. “The first time I do it should be with someone I trust.” I bark out a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “You trust me? That’s your first mistake.” “I do.” His voice is steady. Too steady. I drag a hand down my face, shaking my head. “Jesus, Cole.” It’s not like I give a shit what people do with their dicks. Never have. Cole being gay? Old news. Everyone knows, not that it matters to me. I’ve got my girls, maybe more than one, depending on the night. But Cole… I don’t know. He’s always been different. Soft spot doesn’t even cover it. Something about him has always pulled me in, made me look twice. Made me care when I shouldn’t. And now he’s sitting here, telling me he wants this—this inside him? “Why do you even want this?” I ask. “You don’t need it.” He shrugs, looking away for the first time. “Maybe I don’t want to be me for a while.” I know that feeling. I know it too fucking well. I sigh, thinking. I should shut this down completely, tell him no again, make sure he never asks. But part of me knows he’s right. If he’s going to do it—and he is—then better with me than some random asshole at a college party. I glance at him again. His perfect skin, his neat hair, his green eyes holding something deeper, something restless. I shouldn’t even be considering it. And yet. “I’ve tried G before.” He says too casually. Another cock twitch. “Excuse me?” He stands up without another word, disappearing down the hall. A minute later, he’s back, holding a tiny glass vial between his fingers like it’s nothing. Like it’s just another thing in his neatly curated life. I sit up straighter, narrowing my eyes. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is.” He tosses it to me, and I catch it easily. Twisting off the cap, I dab my finger inside and press it to my tongue. A distinct sour, chemical taste—definitely GHB. I let out a slow breath, gripping the vial tighter. “Where the fuck did you get this?” Cole shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I have my ways.” I glare at him. “That’s not a fucking answer.” “Neither is ‘I’ll think about it.’” He crosses his arms. “So let’s make a trade. I get you high on G, and you get me high on meth. Seems fair.” I exhale sharply, rolling the vial between my fingers. “You don’t just have this shit, Cole. What the fuck were you planning to do with it?” He holds my gaze. “What do you think?” I don’t answer. He just told me. My cock twitches again, but followed by a strange mix of anger and jealousy pouring over me. I set the vial onto the coffee table, leaning back. “You’re a fucking idiot.” “So is Moses, and you still sell to him.” That one hits harder than I want it to. My jaw tightens, but I don’t argue. Cole tilts his head, watching me. “So?” I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. “I’m not saying yes.” “But you’re not saying no.” I shoot him a look. “I’ll consider it.” Cole doesn’t gloat, doesn’t smirk. He just nods, like that’s all he needed to hear. Then, before I can stop him, he’s already moving. “Be right back.” “Cole—” But he’s gone, jogging into the kitchen. I stare at the vial sitting on the table, irritation curling in my gut. I should’ve flushed it or thrown it back in his face. But I didn’t. A minute later, Cole returns, carrying two cups. “Here.” I frown. “The fuck is this?” “Mixer.” He sets them down, unbothered. “If you won’t smoke me up, I’m taking G, and so are you” I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “Not how this works, tiny.” “It is now.” His eyes meet mine. Jesus Christ. He’s really doing this. Really pushing. And the worst part? I’m not sure if I want to stop him. “Fine.” Cole blinks. “Fine?” I shoot him a look. “Yeah, fine. But don’t get ahead of yourself—I’m not smoking you up.” Cole just smirks, like he knew I’d fold eventually. “But when Moses gets home, you better be in your room. Last thing I need is him seeing you fucked up.” Cole doesn’t even argue. He just nods, pleased with the arrangement so far, like this is some kind of negotiation he’s winning. We sit there for a while, neither of us talking. Then Cole shifts slightly, turning his gaze to me. “Well? You’re the dealer. You need to measure it out.” I scoff. “Bossy little shit.” But I don’t argue. G’s not something you eyeball unless you’ve got a death wish. I glance at Cole. “You know how easy it is to overdose on this shit?” He nods, watching as I grab my phone and open the calculator, doing quick math. “Yeah. That’s why I trust you.” I pause for half a second. Then shake it off and get to work. I unscrew the cap, tipping out a careful dose, measuring with the precision that comes from experience. Cole watches intently, eyes sharp, absorbing every movement. Like he wants to learn. Like he wants to know exactly how this world works. I don’t know if that should worry me. Actually, I do. But I’m doing it anyway. I measure out just under a full dose for Cole—enough to feel it, not enough to fuck him up completely. He won’t notice the difference. Then I pour double into my own cup. If one of us is going under, it’s going to be me, not him. Cole doesn’t question it as I hand him his drink. He takes the cup, fingers brushing mine for half a second before he leans back against the couch. He doesn’t drink it yet, just swirls the liquid like he’s testing it. “You sure about this?” I ask, watching him. He lifts a brow. “Are you?” I don’t answer. Instead, I raise my cup. He does the same. We clink them together, and then I throw mine back. Cole hesitates for half a second before following suit. I watch him, as he downs the G, licking his lips after like it’s nothing, like this is just another night. Like we do this all the time. Silence settles between us again, heavier this time. We both know what comes next. Cole leans his head back against the couch, eyes flicking to me. “How long?” I stretch out, feeling the slow warmth creeping through my limbs already. “Give it fifteen.” He exhales through his nose, tapping his fingers against his knee. Waiting. Twenty minutes pass, and the G is in full force. My body feels loose, warm, like I’m sinking into the couch but floating at the same time. Everything is just good—my muscles relaxed, my mind foggy but not gone. My cock no longer twitching, but harder as fuck. The TV is playing something, but I’m not paying attention. G always makes me wanna smoke, and my fingers twitch with the urge to reach into my pocket, to take the edge off the pleasure creeping under my skin. I swallow it down, exhaling through my nose, still not sure how I feel about letting Cole go that far. Instead, I look at Cole, getting lost in watching him. He’s close enough now that I can smell the faint hint of his cologne under the warmth of his skin. He’s always been pretty, but right now, he’s something else entirely. The worst part? I can’t look away. Cole turns his head, catching me in the act. Damn. He tilts his head slightly, like he’s studying me. Then, with a slow smirk, he murmurs, “Feel good yet?” The G kicks in harder, spreading through my veins like liquid gold, making my skin buzz, making everything feel too good, too much. And Cole—Cole’s right there, watching me, soaking it all in. I exhale through my nose, smirking back. “You tell me.” His eyes flick down—over my chest, my arms, the way my fingers twitch against the couch. Then he licks his lips and lets out a soft, lazy chuckle. “You’ve been staring for a while.” Fuck, I need to look away. But I don’t. “Maybe I like what I see.” I don’t know why I say it. Maybe it’s the G talking, loosening my tongue along with everything else. Maybe it’s something else. But Cole doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t get flustered. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, studying me the same way I was just studying him. Then, like he’s making some kind of silent decision, he smirks back. “Yeah,” he says, voice smooth and slow. “I think you do.” This makes my cock throb harder than it ever has in the past. Blinking hard like I can shake the moment off. “Shit—” I rub a hand over my forehead. “Didn’t mean to say that.” Cole raises a brow, still smirking. “Yeah?” I exhale sharply. “Blame it on the G.” I wave a lazy hand between us, trying to smooth over whatever that was. It was the high, that’s all. Didn’t mean anything. Right? Cole just watches me, head tilted, like he doesn’t quite believe me. And maybe I don’t believe myself, either. I need to shift the energy. Fast. So, before I can second-guess it, I let out, “Fuck it. Let’s smoke.” Cole straightens slightly, interest sparking in his hazy green eyes. “Yeah?” I nod, already reaching into my pocket, fingers brushing the familiar weight of glass and baggie. “Yeah. But listen up first.” I try to sit up, but the G still has me melting into the couch, body slow, thoughts even slower. Still, I do my best. “This shit isn’t a game.” My voice comes out heavier than I intend, slurred around the edges but still firm. “You do it once, you’ll wanna do it again. Maybe not right away, but it’ll be in the back of your head. And when it’s in your head, it stays there.” Cole just nods, like he’s absorbing every word. I let out a slow breath, pushing past the warmth of the G curling in my gut. My hand dips into my pocket, pulling out the pipe and a bag of crystal. “First rule,” I say, shaking the bag slightly, watching the tiny shards catch the dim light. “You don’t call it meth. That’s a dirty word.” Cole raises a brow but doesn’t argue. “Crystal is fine. Or Tina. But mostly just T.” He nods again. “T.” I tap out a small amount, carefully loading the bowl, hands steady from muscle memory alone. The whole time, I can feel Cole’s eyes on me, watching, absorbing, taking in every little movement like he wants to learn it all. And maybe it’s just the drugs, but swear to god, he’s getting more attractive by the minute. I push that thought away, focus on what’s in front of me. The packed pipe. I glance up at Cole, meeting his gaze. “Last chance to back out.” Cole shakes his head, slow but deliberate. “I’m not backing out.” His voice is steady, not a hint of hesitation. He knows what he’s doing. Or at least, he thinks he does. “Alright,” I mutter, reaching for my backpack. I unzip the side pocket and pull out my torch, flicking the cap open with my thumb. The blue flame shoots to life, steady and hot. “Pay attention,” I tell him, rolling my shoulders, settling in. “You don’t just light it like a blunt. You gotta heat it slow, let it melt down before you pull. And you never hold it in—this isn’t weed. You blow it out right away.” Cole nods, eyes locked on the pipe in my hand. He looks like a kid in class, laser-focused, taking mental notes. It almost makes me laugh. Almost. I adjust my grip, rolling the pipe between my fingers, making sure the crystal is spread evenly in the bowl. Then I bring the torch up, the flame licking under the glass. The crystals start to sweat, then liquefy, pooling at the bottom before swirling into thick, white vapor. I keep the movement slow, rotating the pipe so it doesn’t burn too hot in one spot. “See that?” I glance at Cole. “That’s what you want. Not too much heat, not too little. Just enough.” He doesn’t blink. “Got it.” I smirk, then bring the mouthpiece to my lips, pulling in a deep, steady drag. The smoke fills my lungs instantly, a sharp warmth spreading through my chest. I don’t hold it—I don’t need to. I part my lips and exhale, blowing a thick cloud straight up to the ceiling. The rush hits fast, that familiar electric clarity slicing through the G’s haze. My pulse kicks up, my skin tingles, my brain sharpens like a knife. I close my eyes for half a second, letting it settle, then look back at Cole. “Your turn.” I hold out the pipe, the bowl still cloudy with vapor. “Let’s see if you were actually paying attention.” Cole takes the pipe, holding it carefully, but instead of going for the torch, he looks at me. “You light it for me.” I pause, fingers tightening slightly around the torch. There’s something about it—something I can’t put my finger on, something that feels… personal. Too personal. Anyone who knows this shit knows it’s an unspoken thing, a quiet kind of intimacy. And suddenly, I remember what Cole said before—about pnp, about the way fags do it. And I gotta admit—they got that part right. It’s hot. In a way that makes no damn sense. A slow burn, a flicker of heat curling low in my stomach. A weird kind of trust. I don’t get it, not really, but I feel it. And yet, I do it anyway. “Alright,” I murmur, voice lower than I meant for it to be. I tilt the pipe in his hand, angling the bowl just right. “I’ll tell you when.” Cole nods, lips parting slightly, eyes flicking between the pipe and my face. I hold his gaze as I bring the flame to the glass, warming it slow, just like I did for myself. The crystals liquefy, then swirl into vapor, thick and milky. “Now,” Cole inhales, his green eyes locked onto mine. His lips close around the mouthpiece, cheeks hollowing slightly as he pulls, the vapor disappearing into his lungs. I watch the way his throat moves, the way his eyelashes flutter for half a second before he exhales, a smooth cloud spilling past his lips. It’s a good hit. Clean and controlled. Thought it wasn’t possible for my cock to throb any harder, but I was proven wrong again. I clear my throat, shifting back slightly. “Not bad.” Cole tilts his head, exhaling the last of the smoke. “Told you I was paying attention.” I huff out a small laugh, shaking my head. “Yeah, yeah.” But the warmth is still there. That weird, lingering heat in my gut. I ignore it. I take the pipe back from him, flicking the torch on again. “One more.” Cole just smirks. “Whatever you say, dealer.” An hour slips by, the minutes blurring into smoke and warmth. Every time, I light the pipe for Cole, watching as he inhales, his lips parting slightly, his eyes hooded as he exhales. He’s a fast learner—too fast. Takes to it like he was made for this. I should stop him. Should’ve stopped after the first hit. But I don’t. Eventually, I glance at my phone, noting the time. Been two hours since I first stepped through the door. I lean back into the couch, stretching, feeling the way my muscles buzz under my skin. “Moses is taking his sweet time,” I mutter. “What’s he even out doing?” Cole hums, his head tilted against the couch, gaze flicking toward me. He hesitates just a second before saying, “He’s staying at his girl’s place tonight.” I pause mid-motion, giving him a look. “What?” Cole shrugs, lazy. “Won’t be back until tomorrow.” Something clicks into place in my head. I stare at him for a long second, then let out a dry, amused scoff. “You little shit.” Cole smirks, eyes glinting. “What?” “You played me.” I shake my head, exhaling a laugh. “You knew he wasn’t coming back tonight. You set this whole thing up.” He doesn’t even bother denying it. Just shrugs again, looking way too pleased with himself. “You wouldn’t have agreed otherwise.” I let out another sharp laugh, shaking my head. “Unbelievable.” But, lowkey? I’m impressed. Cole’s always been the quiet, follow-the-rules type. The preppy golden boy, the one who didn’t pull this kind of shit. Or at least, that’s what I thought. Turns out, he’s got more in him than I gave him credit for. I drag a hand down my face, still smirking. “So what, you planned all this just to get high with me?” Cole tilts his head, lips curling at the edges. “Would you have come if I told you the truth?” I don’t answer. Because we both already know. I lean my head back, letting the high settle deeper into my bones before glancing over at Cole. “How you feeling?” He exhales slowly, a small, lazy smile tugging at his lips. “Great.” His voice is smooth, relaxed. “Didn’t really feel the G much, though.” I raise a brow. “Yeah?” He nods. “I mean, it was nice, but it didn’t hit me like it hit you.” He tilts his head, eyes flicking over me. “You wanna do more?” I consider it for a second. I am feeling good—buzzing, floating, perfect—and nobody’s coming home until tomorrow. There’s nothing stopping me. I shrug. “Fuck it.” I grab the vial from the table, rolling it between my fingers before twisting the cap off. Cole watches as I measure out two doses into my own cup, then pour a single one into his. I go to hand him the cup, but he doesn’t take it right away. Instead, he looks at me, eyes sharp despite the haze. “Give me the same as you.” I hesitate. First-timers shouldn’t push it too far. That’s the rule. But I think back to how easily he took the first dose, how steady he was, how he never wavered. Some people can just handle it well. Cole’s one of them. “Alright,” I murmur, pouring the extra into his cup, matching my own. “Your call.” I watch Cole as he downs the G, licking his lips absentmindedly before setting the cup down. He runs a hand through his hair, fingers raking through the strands before letting his arm drop over the couch, closer to mine now. “You really do this all the time?” I flick my eyes to him. “What, the G?” “All of it.” He gestures vaguely. “T, G, dealing, all of it.” I smirk. “You already knew the answer before you asked.” He tilts his head slightly. “Still wanted to hear you say it.” His smirk lingers, and he leans back just a little, stretching out, mirroring the way I’m sitting now. He’s comfortable. Maybe too comfortable. And he’s watching me like he’s waiting for something. I roll my tongue over my teeth, “You feeling it yet?” His smirk widens just slightly. “I think so.” Fucking cock won’t stop throbbing. I push past it, shifting forward, reaching for the pipe again. “Good. Then let’s keep it that way.” I exhale toward the ceiling, watching the cloud drift up, feeling the rush settle in my bones. Then I glance at Cole. I smirk, shaking my head, then pass him the pipe, torch still in hand. “Here.” Cole takes the pipe without hesitation, bringing it to his lips. I lean in, closer this time, and light it for him, watching as the vapor builds. “Now,” I murmur. He inhales, slow and deep, just like I showed him. The smoke disappears into his lungs, his green eyes flickering toward me as he holds the hit for half a second—long enough for me to reach for the pipe. But before I can grab it, Cole moves. His free hand shoots up, fingers tangling in the back of my hair, pulling me in, dragging my face toward his before I can even register what’s happening. Then his lips are on mine. And before I can even process that, he exhales—the hit rushing past my lips, into my lungs, filling me up, hotter than it should be. Shotgunning. An intimacy. A challenge. A fucking game. My whole body tenses, mind short-circuiting between the drugs and the heat of his mouth, his lips, the way he holds me there, fingers gripping my hair like he’s testing a boundary he already knows he’s breaking. The high kicks up, sharper, hotter, sending a pulse through my veins that makes me forget, for half a second, that I’m supposed to be in control here. I rip myself back, fast, like I’ve been burned. “The fuck was that?” My voice comes out sharp, cutting through the thick haze of smoke and G and whatever the fuck Cole thinks he’s doing. Cole leans back slightly, but he doesn’t look guilty. He doesn’t even look surprised. If anything, he looks amused. “Relax.” His voice is smooth, too smooth. “Just having fun.” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, scowling. “That’s not—” I exhale hard, jaw tightening, forcing my pulse to slow the fuck down. “That’s not how this works.” Cole tilts his head, watching me, that lazy smirk still tugging at his lips. “No?” I shake my head, reaching for the pipe, more out of habit than anything else, just to have something in my hands. “You don’t pull that shit with me, Cole.” He shrugs, stretching out, looking too damn comfortable. “Seemed like you liked it.” Something in me snaps. Before I could react to what I was doing, my arm was already outstretched, hand wrapped around Cole’s throat, pinning him to the couch. I lean in close, lowering my voice, making sure he fucking hears me. “You don’t know what you’re playing with.” Cole’s smirk falters—just a fraction. But it’s enough. I let him go, trying to shake the weird, charged energy out of my system. I don’t know if it’s the G, the T, or the fact that Cole fucking made out with me like it was nothing, but I feel wired, too hot, too aware of everything. Cole watches me for a long moment, then exhales, like he’s letting it go. Then Cole shifts beside me, exhaling softly. “Alright,” he mutters. “Maybe I crossed a line.” “It’s a small town,” he says, voice quieter now. “Not a lot of options.” I frown. “Options?” His lips press together for a second, then he lets out a dry laugh. “Gays, Nico.” He finally looks at me. “There’s, like, five of us here. And they’re all…” He trails off, shaking his head. I raise a brow. “All what?” “Fem,” he says flatly. “Bottoms. Good friends, but not exactly great for, you know…” His hand gestures vaguely between us. “Experimenting.” I huff a small laugh, shaking my head. “Jesus. You really just said that.” Cole shrugs, unbothered. “It’s true.” Then he leans back against the couch, tipping his head to the side as he studies me. “I’ve got a type, and none of them fit.” I narrow my eyes. “And what’s your type, exactly?” He hums, dragging his fingers lazily over the rim of his empty cup, pretending to think. “Older. Built. Not soft.” His eyes flick over me, slow and deliberate. “Masculine. A little dangerous.” I let out a short laugh, shaking my head. “Subtle.” Cole just smirks, unashamed. “You asked.” “And it’s not just the looks, either. It’s the energy.” His fingers drum against his knee, gaze flicking to mine again. “That… intensity.” My jaw tenses. I look away, shifting in my seat. “Sounds complicated.” “It is,” he admits, then exhales through his nose, his smirk fading. “Not that it matters. It’s not like I’ve actually done anything.” That makes me pause. I glance at him again, frowning slightly. “What do you mean?” He shrugs. “I mean exactly that. I haven’t done anything.” I stare at him for a second. “Wait.” I shift toward him, eyes narrowing. “You’re telling me you’re still a virgin?” Cole huffs out a small, almost embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, Nico. I am.” I blink. Then bark out a laugh, shaking my head. “Couldn’t be me.” Cole rolls his eyes. “Yeah, no shit.” I smirk, leaning back again. “Damn. A virgin at eighteen?” “What, you lost it at, like, fourteen?” he shoots back, raising a brow. I shrug. “Fifteen.” Cole groans. “Of course you did.” I just grin, taking another hit, letting the smoke curl lazily from my lips. “You’re really out here trying to experiment, huh?” He exhales dramatically. “You have no idea.” I shake my head, chuckling. “Poor thing.” “Fuck off.” But there’s no heat in his voice. Just that same lazy smirk, that same energy humming between us. Cole shifts, getting more comfortable on the couch, eyes flicking to me with something that’s both amused and too curious. “Tell me about straight sex.” I pause mid-inhale, pipe still between my fingers. I exhale a slow cloud of smoke, smirking. “What?” “You know,” Cole says, waving a lazy hand. “Fucking bitches.” That makes me actually laugh, the kind that shakes in my chest. “Jesus, Cole.” He grins, eyes flickering with amusement. “What?” “You saying it like that.” I shake my head. “You sound like a kid trying to prove something.” He shrugs, still grinning. “I mean, I have to know what all the hype is about. Why do you guys love it so much?” I huff a laugh, stretching my arms over the back of the couch. “You’ve never been with a girl, obviously.” Cole makes a face. “Nope.” “But you’ve seen straight porn.” He snorts. “Unfortunately.” Then, mocking, he adds, “Couldn’t be me.” That makes me laugh again, shaking my head. “Yeah, yeah.” Cole tilts his head, watching me. “So? Explain” I smirk, exhaling another slow breath of smoke. “It’s the way they react, man. The softness, the sounds. The way their bodies move. It’s like…” I trail off for a second, trying to find the right words. “It’s powerful. Controlling how they take it, how they moan, how they come apart under you.” Cole listens, head tilting slightly, eyes sharp even through the haze. “So it’s about dominance?” I smirk. “It’s about control.” Cole hums, gaze flicking over me, unreadable. Then he exhales, shaking his head. “Yeah. Couldn’t be me.” I chuckle. “Yeah, I figured.” Cole shifts again, pulling one leg up onto the couch, turning more toward me. “And you don’t ever think about it differently? Like, I dunno, being on the other side?” I raise a brow. “What, letting a girl take control?” “No.” He gives me a look. “I mean with a guy.” My jaw flexes slightly, but I keep my expression easy. “No.” Cole watches me for a second longer, then smirks like he knows something I don’t. “Interesting.” I shake my head, smirking right back. “You’re something else, you know that?” He grins, leaning back again. “I try.” I take another hit, letting it sit heavy in my lungs before I pass the pipe back to him. And as he takes it, fingers brushing mine, I can’t shake the feeling that this conversation isn’t over. Not even close. Cole takes the pipe, bringing it to his lips, waiting for me to light it. He’s steady, smooth, confident in a way that should make me stop and think. Should make me ask myself why the fuck I’m still here, still entertaining this, still letting it happen. But I don’t. I bring the torch up, flicking the flame on, watching the crystals liquefy and swirl into thick, white vapor. The moment it’s ready, I murmur, “Now.” Cole inhales, slow and deep, his green eyes flicking up to meet mine as he pulls. And fuck, I need my cock to stop this throbbing. With that, I break. I reach for him, grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him toward me, pressing my lips against his as I inhale his hit straight from him. His breath stutters for half a second before he exhales, feeding it into me, the smoke burning between us. But the second he tries to push deeper, the moment his fingers curl into my shirt, trying to pull me in—I shove him back. Hard. Cole stares at me, chest rising and falling, lips still parted, green eyes blown wide with surprise. “What the fuck?” I drag a hand down my face, breathing hard. “I can’t.” Cole’s brows pull together, and then—irritation. “The fuck you mean you can’t?” I shake my head, jaw tight. “Not like this.” Cole scoffs. “Not like what?” I glance away, exhaling hard through my nose. I don’t answer. I can’t. Because I know myself when I’m high like this. I know the way it takes me over—how my dominance turns razor-sharp, how I get aggressive, controlling. I know how I take, and that’s not something you throw at someone who’s never done this before. Not someone like Cole. He watches me for a long second, then shakes his head, letting out a frustrated breath. “You’re fucking teasing me.” I glance at him sharply. “That’s not what this is.” “Bullshit.” His jaw tightens, his fingers flexing against his knee. “You keep pulling me in just to push me away. What the fuck do you want?” I don’t answer. Because I don’t know. Cole tilts his head slightly, smirking—but it’s pissed now, not amused. “I get it.” He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “You think I can’t handle it.” I clench my jaw. “Cole—” “You still think I’m some kid.” I exhale sharply, fingers curling into fists. “It’s not that—” “Then what?” His voice is sharp, cutting through the haze. “See? You are a tease. Just like one of your bitches” I snap. I grab his jaw, tilting his head up, making him look at me. His lips part, his breath stutters, but he doesn’t pull away. Cole’s breath hitches, but he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t pull back. If anything, the challenge in his eyes sharpens, his lips curling at the edges like he wants this reaction from me. Like he planned for it. His fingers flex against my wrist where I’ve got him by the throat, testing, feeling the way my grip tightens. But he doesn’t try to pry me off. He just looks at me. Green eyes dark, lips parted, chest rising and falling. I lean in closer, my grip firm but controlled, voice dropping lower. “You really wanna test me, Cole?” His smirk wavers—just slightly—but he holds my gaze. “Maybe.” I exhale slow, shaking my head. “You think this is a fucking game?” Cole hums, the sound vibrating against my fingers. “Feels real to me.” Something deep in me twists at that, something dangerous. The high amplifies everything—the way his skin feels under my hand, the way his body shifts beneath me, the way his breathing picks up just slightly but he doesn’t look away. I slide my thumb over his jaw, pressing just enough to make him tilt his chin up for me. “You’ve got a smart mouth.” Cole exhales a slow, shaky breath. “So do something about it.” I snap. I crush my mouth against his, swallowing whatever smart-ass remark he was about to throw at me. Cole doesn’t hesitate. He leans into it, gasping softly against me before he fists my shirt in both hands, pulling me closer, pressing up into me like he’s been waiting for this all night. And fuck, maybe he has. I shove him back into the couch, my weight pressing into him, my hands gripping tight—his throat, his waist, his hip—feeling, claiming. He groans, the sound sharp, raw, like he’s never been handled like this before. Like he’s never wanted to be. And now he’s got me—high, reckless, dominant—right here, giving him exactly what he asked for. And I’m not stopping this time. Not until he knows exactly what it means to push me. I stand up slowly, rolling my shoulders like I’m shaking off the last bit of restraint. My jaw is tight, my eyes dark, my whole demeanor shifting into something heavier, something final. Cole watches from the couch, breath still uneven, lips still parted from the force of the last kiss. He doesn’t move yet, just waiting, watching. I exhales through my nose, running my tongue over my teeth before speaking. “Get up.” Cole blinks, his pupils still blown wide, his body still buzzing from the drugs, the tension, everything. “What?” I tilt my head, eyes narrowing. “You heard me. Get the fuck up.” Cole swallows, pushing himself up slowly, cautious, but not scared. Not hesitant. If anything, there’s something eager in the way he moves, like he’s been waiting for m to take control like this. I sit back down, reaching for the pipe, tapping out another hit. I don’t even look at Cole as I flick the torch on, heating the glass. “Strip.” The single word cuts through the thick air. Cole exhales sharply, his fingers flexing at his sides, his breath catching slightly like it finally hit him—this is happening. I exhales a thick cloud toward the ceiling before finally looking at Cole again. “I said strip, faggot.” I hear him whisper “fuck” under his breath. Like a small whimper. His fingers go to the hem of his shirt, gripping it, lifting it slowly—almost too slow. Testing. Watching my reaction. I exhale another stream of smoke, my eyes tracking every movement, every inch of skin revealed. Cole lets the shirt slip off, tossing it aside before moving to the button of his jeans. His fingers work the metal, the sound of the zipper cutting through the thick silence of the room. I take another hit, inhaling deep, letting the warmth crawl through my veins, amplifying everything. Cole pushes his jeans down his hips, stepping out of them. He’s standing there now, exposed, chest rising and falling, fingers twitching at his sides. But he’s not shy. He’s not covering himself. He’s waiting. I set the pipe down on the table and lean forward, elbows on my knees, dragging my tongue over my bottom lip as I look Cole up and down, taking my time with it. Not just a pretty face, but a pretty everything. His dick hung their uncut, freshly shaven, smooth until his legs, covered in carpet of hair. I looked up at him with a smirk and motioned for him to turn around. Now, I’ve seen a lot of ass in my day, but I’ll admit, there’s something about his. Perfectly round, smooth. Innocent. I tilt my head, smirking. “Now get over here.” Cole steps forward, closing the small space between us, his breath coming a little quicker now. He’s standing right in front of me, bare, exposed, but not nervous. Locking eyes with him, I reach down and tug at the bulge in my pants, gripping myself through the fabric. I was rock hard and couldn’t take it anymore. “Get on your knees.” Cole lowers himself. When he settled onto his knees between my legs, looking up at me with those blown-out green eyes, lips parted, chest still rising and falling— “Fuck, you look good like that.” I let out greedily “Now take my cock out of these jeans,” I demanded. Cole didn’t hesitate. His hands moved immediately to my bulge, one palm pressing firmly against it, his fingers curling to squeeze. A small smirk ghosted across his lips as he felt the weight of me through the denim. Then, with steady hands, he reached for my zipper, dragging it down with agonizing slowness. I lifted my hips slightly, helping him as he tugged my jeans down past my thighs. The moment they pooled around my ankles, my cock sprang free—thick, uncut, and standing proud, a full nine inches of me throbbing in the open air. My dark pubes framed it, a stark contrast against my skin. Cole’s breath hitched. His eyes widened, a mix of hunger and awe flashing across his face. He licked his lips unconsciously, his gaze locked onto me like I was the only thing in the world he wanted. “Go ahead faggot, taste it” Cole’s breath shuddered as he exhaled, his lips parting, so close I could feel the warmth ghosting over my skin. His fingers tightened instinctively around my shaft, stroking slowly, teasingly, as if testing my patience. I smirked, threading my fingers through his hair, gripping just enough to make him gasp. “Did you not hear me? Put that mouth to work.” My voice was low, firm, an order he had no intention of disobeying. With a slow motion he leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste the head of my cock. A soft groan rumbled in my chest as I watched him, savoring the way his lips stretched over me, the warmth of his mouth enveloping the tip. “Good faggot,” I murmured, tightening my grip in his hair as I guided him lower. Cole moaned around me, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure straight to my core. His tongue swirled, tracing every ridge, every sensitive spot, his movements both eager and controlled. His hands braced against my thighs as he took me deeper, inch by inch, his throat relaxing as he pushed himself further. I let my head fall back against the couch, pleasure surging through me as he worked. The wet heat of his mouth, the way he hollowed his cheeks and sucked, the sinful noises slipping from his throat—it was intoxicating. “Fuck, just like that,” I praised, looking down at him. His eyes met mine, dark and needy, desperate to please. I gave him what he wanted, thrusting gently into his mouth, watching as his lips stretched wider, as his throat tensed around me. He took it, moaning as if he needed this as much as I did. His fingers dug into my thighs, urging me on, silently begging for more. And who was I to deny him? I tightened my grip in his hair, yanking his head back just enough to force his eyes up to mine. His lips were already slick, parted, desperate for more. “You’re taking your time,” I murmured, my thumb brushing over his swollen bottom lip before pressing against his tongue. He let me, obedient, his eyes dark with need. “I didn’t tell you to tease, did I?” He shook his head, my thumb still resting on his tongue, making him struggle to answer. “No, Sir,” he managed, voice hoarse, breathless. I smirked. “Then do it right.” Without hesitation, he parted his lips wider, taking me back into the heat of his mouth. This time, I didn’t let him set the pace. My hand in his hair held him still as I pushed deeper, his throat tightening around me as he tried to adjust. His fingers gripped my thighs, nails digging in, but he didn’t pull away. He knew better. “Relax,” I ordered, my other hand settling heavy on his jaw, guiding him. His lashes fluttered, a choked sound escaping him as I pressed deeper. When he finally opened up for me, his throat flexing, I groaned in satisfaction. “That’s it,” I praised, keeping my grip firm as I began to fuck his mouth in slow, deliberate strokes. His moans vibrated around me, sending pleasure curling through my spine. I controlled every movement, every inch he took, every breath he struggled for. He let me. He wanted this—wanted to be used, to be owned. His hands trembled against my thighs, but he didn’t resist. He let me push, let me test his limits. My cock slid deeper, his throat tightening, and I held him there for a beat, watching the way his eyes watered, the way his body shuddered. “Look at you,” I murmured, thumb stroking his jaw as I pulled back, letting him gasp for air before pushing in again. “So desperate to please.” A needy whimper escaped him. I held him there for a moment longer, feeling the way his throat flexed around me, the way his breath hitched, his body shaking from the effort of keeping still. His fingers clenched against my thighs, his chest rising and falling in shallow, controlled breaths. Then, finally, I eased back, my grip in his hair loosening as I pulled out of his mouth. A wet gasp tore from his throat as he sagged against me, his lips red and glistening, spit connecting us in thin strands that broke as he swallowed hard. I let my thumb trace the edge of his jaw, tilting his face up so he had no choice but to meet my gaze. His eyes were hazy, his pupils blown wide, his chest still heaving as he tried to steady himself. “Breathe,” I ordered, my tone softer now, but no less commanding. “Think you can handle more, boy?” His breath hitched, but his answer came immediately this time—steady, certain. “Yes, Sir.” I tilted his chin up higher, forcing him to hold my gaze. “That’s what I like to hear.” Then I leaned in, my lips ghosting over his ear as I whispered my next command. “Stand up,” I ordered. He moved immediately, though his legs shook slightly as he rose. I watched the way his chest rose and fell, the way his fingers twitched at his sides as he fought the urge to reach for me, to cling to whatever I decided to give him. “Turn around,” I murmured. His lips parted slightly, his pupils still blown wide, but he obeyed without question. I let my eyes drag over him as he turned, taking in the way his body tensed under my gaze, the way he seemed to fight the urge to squirm. “Good boy,” I praised, letting my hand trail down his spine, slow and deliberate. I felt the shudder that rippled through him, the way he sucked in a breath as my palm ghosted lower. Then I leaned in, my lips grazing the shell of his ear as I gave my next command. “Bend over.” For a split second, he hesitated—just long enough for me to tangle my fingers in his hair and pull his head back slightly. “You heard me.” My voice was low, firm, leaving no room for doubt. “Bend over.” A whimper slipped from his throat as he nodded, his body moving instinctively to obey. He braced himself against the nearest surface, his hands gripping the edge as he arched his back slightly, presenting himself exactly how I wanted him. I smirked, trailing my fingers down his spine again, feeling the way he shuddered under my touch. “Now that’s a sight,” I murmured, stepping back just enough to take him in fully. “So eager. So obedient.” I let my palm rest on his lower back, pressing down just enough to keep him in place. “But let’s see if you can stay that way.”

definitely doggy ass up

Glad you had someone teach you how to do it early in life. I always felt that younger, the better. It prepares them for what their life will be, offering their holes to men like me.

Another damn good reason why I write 'em 😉

[think before following links] https://thisvid.com/videos/recent-college-grad-rides-and-lets-daddy-breed-his-hairy-hole/ So fucking hot. I came twice. I love me a good daddy-son breeding.

After a long flight arrived at my Phuket hotel about 9pm. Had a guy off Grindr there in 30 minutes breeding my hole. That should help with the jet lag.

I disagree. That may be the case in your country, but it isn't the case in the US. Here in the US, we're taxed on everything, no matter what level of financial security we enjoy or not. We're taxed annually on our income, on our property, there are sales taxes of every single thing we buy - from groceries to clothing, and everything else you can name. If taxation were voluntary, there wouldn't be any governments at all, including yours. It's when our contributions are simply taken away - for example, Social Security in the US - that troubles start. You may already know this, but for any readers that don't. taxes are collected (via withholdings from our paychecks) beginning with our very first job, and ending whenever we retire. It's only at retirement that US citizens can access their own earned money back, as SS monthly reimbursements on money we've earned from our very first day of employment. In my case, it was when I began delivering newspapers beginning in the 5th grade. Thus, any American citizen who is employed has a portion of their wages deducted by the Social Security Administration, and from the very first day they are employed until the very last day before retirement, with the understanding that the Government will invest our S.S. taxes, and we will not only get our principal back, it will be with a portion of decades worth of interest as well. That's only one of the taxation contrivances, and there are plenty of others. Of course, every other type of tax (sales tax, income tax, property tax for example) continues until the individual heads off to what you might call "their great reward in Heaven". More, the great majority of Americans do not quibble about paying their fair share, since we enjoy many benefits derived from taxation. My friend, I enjoy your commentary on many subjects, but on this one, you are very much mistaken. We want what we've been promised our entire lives, but more than what we're entitled to - what we've earned - would be unfair, just as chiseling on what we've earned would be unfair.

With that being said, I just want to see if I understand what you are saying......If I was married at my county courthouse, by a justice of the peace, will this marriage be considered valid and afford me all the benefits of a heterosexual marriages such as death benefits and pensions? I hate to sound like I am "all about the money" but I mean, if I am putting "married, filing separately" on my income tax form, shouldn't we both have the financial benefits as our straight counterparts?

My first experience with drinking from the tap happened by accident when I was 16 with my 24 year old bf. He was pounding my ass for ages as I was stroking my cum desperate to cum but not until we both do at the same time. He fucked me from above with my ass in the air above my face. The tip of my cock was only an inch way from.my open mouth as I wanked and instead of cum I pissed in my mouth as he bred my hole. I was horrified, embarrassed but I soon realised that my bf was into it. He stayed inside me for a while afterwards, reassuring me before he pulled out and pissed in my mouth.

I would definitely drink down your blue and green piss! On one hand, knowing ahead of time about the unique color would be good, so I don't freak out, just in case. Normally, however, when I drink piss directly from the tap, I have my lips securely wrapped around a guy's cock so no piss can escape. Because of this, I don't know that I would know about the color difference right away. For me personally, I love the element of surprise. It is fucking hot when a guy takes control and makes sexual decisions that directly impact me without prior discussion, so I would find it very hot to have you piss your unique colors into me without telling me ahead of time! While this would not be for everyone, I would find it hot to undertake experiments with you, ensuring I drink your piss multiple times at all colors, depending on your hydration levels. · This would allow us to confirm if the color of your piss impacts the taste in any way. · Drinking all colors would also confirm if they impact the color of my tongue, similar to when I eat a flavored popsicle and my tongue changes color. · We could also experiment how me drinking the different colors of your piss impacts the whiteness of my teeth. Because teeth are porous, red wine can impact the color of my teeth and I wonder about the impact of blue and green piss. I would think the dark blue piss would have the greatest impact but experimenting would confirm this. o For teeth experimentation, we could do two separate types of tests using each color of piss. First we would see the impact of my teeth color when I take your cock in my mouth so the head of your cock is past my teeth and the piss does not spray directly on my them. I would also want to do a separate experiment of you spraying each piss color directly on my teeth while I either smile big for you or by wearing a dental cheek retractor/mouth spreader that is used for teeth whitening, so my teeth are fully exposed when you piss directly on them. The duration of the piss stream could also impact the color of my teeth, so we probably would want to experiment multiple times with each color and track the time of different piss streaming durations and the corresponding impact on my teeth. It would be interesting to see how drinking down your light blue, dark blue, and green piss impacts my piss afterwards. I would think my piss might change color, maybe being more consistently green when your individual colors meet up with my yellow piss. It would be interesting to find out! Setting the fantasy aside for a moment and on a more serious note: Before you engage with WS, it would likely be beneficial to contact your physician or a GLBTQ+ medical clinic to confirm the potential impact, risks, and side effects of doing WS with other guys, given you are taking Methylene Blue and its impact it has on your urine color. That would hopefully confirm what WS activities are safe to participate in, so you know for sure, and you can share this information with guys prior to hooking up. The guys you are thinking of hooking up with for WS could likewise contact their physician or a medical clinic to also confirm. I know this may be a buzzkill, but it could also ensure everyone stays safe.

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.

I Absolutely love speculum. My favorite toy. Only only only only get a Collin speculum to start. A Colin speculum can be manoeuvered and opened using only one hand. With a Colin speculum you only turn a wingnut and it slowly opens. There are other types of speculum to use. But they require both hands to open. You squeeze the handles and they slowly open, and at the same time you have to screw the wing nut to lock them into place. I have seen some people get injured when the guy working the other type of speculum has greasy hands and either the hand squeezing the handles or the hand turning the wing nut slide slides off because of the grease. Here is what I recommend to start. [think before following links] https://www.ebay.com/itm/254735320900?_skw=collin+speculum&itmmeta=01JMZPJVB2HVW3C7J1ER8DQ9SJ&hash=item3b4f688744:g:Il4AAOSw6rxfdatn&itmprp=enc%3AAQAKAAAA8FkggFvd1GGDu0w3yXCmi1e5k1wUunNfeI91Bn2IKNujgHaDwpLjLU5yXOkCdr34E%2FWe6EYGCnMAmwzh2gNH%2FoW81yYceqwQoH8lHmQE3sarErNfi5%2FGAKJ51G9s7iULGkA%2Fwi6NfKp9Q9hQU9Wlfm4%2FbPcLzKFAMwa9D3wil4javP6InXDfmeoMJOEyIL9aEFxRCVE632m3HGKu%2FtSgIqQEodA6l2jRHArsl5Yl1l5jgUzQWJpNKYPA0VLtAfRE5ymc4IyCpD9dhnAX0BYVktm09jGRh0C6B2IvUySthpbX6Ni0BvVpgyqaLfPRuPRBkA%3D%3D|tkp%3ABk9SR9K1y_anZQ The nice thing about having a set of three is that you can always use one at the same time with a buddy. These are also good because they graduate from small to large.

New Chapter coming out today😈. I feel so inspired and horny right now! And the worst is yet to come!! Feel free to comment what should happen next, so that I can include your suggestions!

you ever get sent that final chapter? im lookin for it.

What's left from this morning what hadn't been fucked or eaten out of me. Taken right after the third load this morning right before check out

I can very much understand the appeal of taking poz cock and at the same time having the doubts about it... I know it's only a matter of time, but I think having a man i desire breeding me with poz cum would be the most intimate kind of sex.

There are two positions I favor. Face down ass up or in a sling. I do prefer the latter as it is easier to hit those poppers

Lately, more than usual. On average 2 to 5 times a day. Just this morning, 2X before getting out of bed. I feel bad about all that cum going to waste, but nothing a devoted live-in gay cumdump couldn’t rectify.

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.

Part 47: Graham Broken In (Will's Perspective) "I said yes." “Yeah, you did!” Peter shouted. He ran over and hugged me, kissing me. I could feel his hard cock against my own. Is he ever not horny, I wondered. “I’m so happy for you.” “Thanks,” I said. His hands ran down to my ass, squeezing. “I’m so happy for my daddy.” “Peter!” “I’m not going to stop,” Peter said, moving to Dom. “Does that make you my grandpa?” “Call me that, and I’ll make more than your ass bleed,” Dom warned. They all congratulated us. “So, is this just a wedding announcement, or are we going to fuck?” Doctor Wade asked, unbuttoning his shirt. “We’re gonna fuck,” Dom said, pulling his shirt off. “Boy,” he pointed at Lewis, “your ass belongs to me now and forever. It’s time I remind you.” “Yes, Sir,” Lewis said, stripping down. He looked at me and smiled. "I guess we're kinda like brothers." "I guess we are," I told him, admiring his overwhelming enthusiasm. “All the rooms are unlocked,” Doctor Wade said. “No cameras are on in the building, so run around naked and fuck until you drop.” He walked over to Ryan, looking him over. “This man says you’re an impressive fucker,” he said, looking to Graham. “I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing this up close, and as your doctor, I do require personal exams.” “Whatever the doctor wants,” Ryan said, following behind Wade. “You, too,” Wade said to Pastor Kline. “Graham can’t be the only man to experience the Kline sandwich.” “It’s our specialty,” Pastor Kline said, following Wade and his son out of the room. “And what about you Graham?” I asked. “After hearing Ryan talk about Mr. Flanagan’s gifted cock,” Graham said, looking Peter over, “I’d like to see his cumming abilities up close.” “You’re not ready,” Peter teased, “but I’ll happily wow you.” Graham smiled. “But, knowing you’re the man with the potent, toxic cum,” he said, looking to me, “I want you to take a turn on my ass.” “I think the three of us can manage,” Peter said. “But let’s get a different room. This one is going to get out of hand.” I looked back and saw Dom holding Lewis, his cock already inside the young man’s hole. Lewis had his legs wrapped around Dom’s waist, Dom’s hands stretched out, holding him in the air. Dom’s muscles flexed, showing how strong he was. He was using Lewis like a fleshlight, merely an object to fuck, merely a hole to fill. Dom would consider him the model of the perfect faggot. “That’s right,” Dom said, slamming his cock deep inside Lewis who cried out each time. “Take this fucking monster cock!” “Fuck me, Sir!” Lewis cried. “Tear my hole to pieces.” “It isn’t your hole anymore,” Dom told him. “This hole belongs to me. Peter may have found it first, but I’m the man who claimed it. Got that?” “Yes, Sir!” Lewis moaned. “That’s a good faggot.” I followed Graham and Peter out of the room, passing the one Doctor Wade, Ryan, and Pastor Kline had entered. Pastor Kline was lying on an exam table, already naked, his hole on display. “Doctor,” Pastor Kline said, “I think I’m ready for my injection now.” “You’ve got it,” Wade said, naked himself, showing his muscles. “But I’ll need a little help from my assistant.” “Whatever you need,” Ryan said, already stroking his cock to life, fresh toxic precum dripping down his hand. “Let’s see if I can’t help you inject my father’s hole with toxic jizz.” We entered an empty room, similar to the others. There was an exam table at the center, but I noticed that on the walls were pictures of pregnant women. I realized what this room was primarily used for, and I smiled. “You say I’m your daddy,” I said to Peter, walking to the exam table. “That’s not how I look at it.” “How do you look at it?” he asked, Graham watching us. “I impregnated you,” I told him. “You’re carrying my baby inside you.” “Am I?” Peter asked, his hand moving from his bulge to his stomach. “You knocked me up?” “Sure did,” I said. “And I think it’s time for your examination. Get on the table.” “Yes, sir,” Peter said. He stripped off his clothing, revealing his hard cock and the ring hanging at the tip. “That’s a nice PA,” Graham said. “Thanks,” Peter said. “It used to be my wedding ring.” “Fuck,” Graham said, his right hand reaching over to his left, feeling his own wedding ring. “I’d love mine in my cock. I pulled on the underside of the table, revealing stirrups. “Let’s check on that baby growing inside you.” Peter put his legs into the stirrups, giving us a good view of his cock, balls, and hole. “What do you think?” he asked. “Looks good to me,” Graham said, stepping forward, his hands running along Peter’s legs. They moved along his thighs, his right reaching down to his hole while his left moved to Peter’s hard cock. His wedding ring hit against the ring in Peter’s cock. “How’s that feel?” “Fucking great,” Peter said, pinching his nipples. His cock was already leaking precum, coating Graham’s hand. “Did you already cum?” Graham asked, slowing his pumping. “Just leaking pre,” Peter told him. “Fuck,” Graham said, admiring the amount. He released Peter’s cock and inspected his hand. He looked down at Peter, making eye contact, and licked his hand, his tongue stopping on his ring. “Fucking delicious.” Peter moaned, smiling. “Don’t stop. Jerk my cock. Fill my hole.” Graham turned and looked at me. “Are you ready to knock my ass up like you did his?” “More than ready,” I said, pulling my shirt off. Graham and I stripped down. I was completely naked, but Graham stood before us in lace panties. They were black and hugged his ass, making his ass look as if it was sculpted from marble. Ryan was right. This man’s ass was incredible. “You like?” Graham asked, noticing my leering. “What do you think?” I said, looking down at my hard cock. “Holy fuck,” Graham said, staring at my monster. While there was lust in his eyes, there was fear on his face. “8 inches,” I told him, grabbing my cock, squeezing so a bead of precum dripped out. I caught it on my finger and held it out to Graham. He leaned forward, my finger slipping inside his mouth. He moaned, my finger slipping out over his lips. “How’s that taste?” Graham smiled. “Tastes potent,” he said. “Tastes like everything I’ve ever wanted.” “You better be sure,” I told him. “As you just heard, this cock converts men into toxic whores.” “Sure does,” Peter said, reaching down and feeling his own hole. “Fuck, your strain runs through my body. You’ve made me into this horny, perverted slut!” “You’ve always been that man,” I told him. I looked at Graham, seeing that his fear was gone. “I just intensified what was already inside you.” I stepped closer to Graham, his cock hard, hitting against my own. “What about you?” I asked. “What kind of man are you?” “I’m a cheating faggot cumdump,” Graham said. “And I need you to infect me.” “Then let’s go,” I said. “Suck my cock.” Graham knelt to the ground, slipping my leaking cock into his mouth. Fuck, he knew what he was doing. Having just met the man, I knew almost nothing about him. Had he fucked men before he met Ryan? Has he always been a bottom slut? Has he always wanted to be pozzed? We were about to find out. “That’s right,” I told him. “Fuck, your mouth is incredible.” As Graham sucked me off, I leaned over between Peter’s legs and started sucking his cock, filling my mouth with his copious amount of precum. What I collected I spat in my hand and used it to lube Peter’s hole. “Fuck,” Peter moaned. “Open me up, daddy. Oh, I mean, sir.” Peter’s cock was drowning me in precum, and I could feel myself coating Graham’s mouth. “That’s good,” I told Graham, pulling my cock out of his mouth. I had some of Peter’s precum in my hand. “Turn around,” I told Graham. Graham turned around, showing me his incredible ass once again. It looked incredible in the lace panties. I used to watch porn where women dressed like this, taunting men with their big, juicy asses. Now, I had a man with just as much meat. He pulled the panties down, revealing his puckered hole. Even though Ryan had been fucking Graham for a few weeks, his hole still looked tight. “Beautiful hole,” I said, smearing Peter’s cum over Graham’s ass. As I did, I stuck my finger inside his hole, holding him still as he bucked. “If you’re going to take my cock, you’re gonna need to open up more.” “I know,” Graham said. “But I won’t be mad if you make me bleed a bit.” “Oh, you’ll bleed,” I told him. “And it feels great,” Peter said. I got four fingers inside Graham’s hole, his body adjusting. I loved feeling his ass, massaging the firm muscles. He clearly took great care of himself. I leaned forward, burrowing my mouth into his hole, tasting him. “Oh, fuck!” he moaned, reaching out and grabbing Peter’s legs. “That’s it. Keep going.” I pushed in further, feeling his ass cheeks against my own cheeks. He was truly cleaned out. There was hair around his hole, spreading out to his cheeks. When I was done, every hair was stuck to his skin, plastered by my spit and Peter’s precum. “Let’s get going,” I said, leaving Graham’s ass. “You fuck Peter, and I’ll fuck you.” “Another sandwich,” he said. “Well,” I said, grabbing his ass, “when you’ve got the meat…” “It’s time to stuff this meat,” Graham said. He moved between Peter’s legs, his cock slipping between his cheeks. “Oh, fuck yeah!” Peter moaned. “Keep going, fucker! Fill my ass!” "The patient needs a deeper examination," I told Graham. “Fuck, you feel incredible!” Graham moaned, his hands running over Peter’s body. “You feel better than my wife’s pussy.” “Every man’s ass is better than any woman’s pussy,” Peter said. “I wouldn’t know,” I told them, aiming my cock at Graham’s hole, my hands grabbing his ass, pulling his cheeks apart. “I’ve only ever fucked strong, tight, male ass.” “And I can’t wait for you to feel mine,” Graham said, shoving his cock all the way into Peter’s ass. The panties strained around his cock and my intrusion in his hole. I loved the feeling of the lace on his body, so delicate, so strong. “Fill my ass!” Peter shouted, his cock jumping, large streams of precum dripping down his shaft. Graham scooped up the precum, filling his palm, and licked it clean. “How’s that taste?” “Delicious,” Graham said, licking between his fingers. “It tastes like testosterone. Like masculinity.” “Damn right,” I whispered into Graham’s ear, slamming my hips into his ass, bottoming out, and causing him to cry out. “FUCK!” Graham cried, his cock slamming into Peter’s hole. His chest heaved, head tilted back, mouth open wide. Peter gasped, his cock shooting out ropes of cum, covering his entire chest and stomach, several shots covering Graham. “What the fuck!” Graham said as he came down from his momentary high, watching as Peter came. “Did you just—” “Cum?” Peter asked, gasping. “Yeah. Sure did.” “And he’ll be ready to cum again once you are,” I told Graham. "Milk him for all the cum you can. He never runs dry." "So far," Peter said, catching his breath. "But I'd like to test that theory." “So, what do you say?" I asked. "Are you ready to fuck more cum out of him?” Graham looked down at Peter’s cum-covered body and smiled. “I sure fucking am,” he said. Graham pulled off my cock and slammed into Peter, fucking himself as he fucked Peter. His ass felt incredible on my cock, milking me with his muscular ass. My hands ran up his back, feeling the muscles, admiring how they moved as Graham fucked his hardest. I was in love with Dom, but I could see why someone would fall in love with someone like Graham. It was easy to see how women fell for Graham and why Ryan had fallen for him. Once he was pozzed, he’d convert dozens, if not hundreds, of holes with ease. The same with Peter. Two married men who wanted something more, wanted to live their lives on the edge, using their cocks to convert. They wanted to live according to their temptations, just as I had. Look where it brought. I was a poz top, converting men into the pigs they've always wanted to be. It was my true calling. Dom had made me into this man. No, Dom had brought out the man who was already inside me. “Fuck,” Graham moaned. “You’re hitting my prostate.” “Mine too,” Peter said, his cock leaking again. “I’ve got to milk everything I can out of you,” I said, fucking his ass harder. I loved getting the chance to fuck a new ass. Graham’s, while not a virgin hole, felt incredible. “I’m jealous Ryan gets to play with you all the time.” “I’ve seen your man,” Graham said. “He looks even better than me.” “Dom is great,” Peter said, breathing hard, hand pumping his cock. “but you’re a god in your own right.” “I just can’t wait till I get a chance at him fucking the shit out of me.” “He’ll love filling you,” I told Graham. “Just like I am now!” I slammed deep inside his body, erupting my toxic cum into his guts. “Fuck, yeah!” Graham cried out, grabbing Peter’s legs. “Milk me!” Take my neg load!" "Take my toxic jizz!" I shouted, holding Graham's body close, feeling his muscles moving as his body ridded itself of his inferior cum. “Oh, shit!” Peter cried, his cock erupting once again. His cum shot like a geyser, reaching high in the air, splattering on his body and all over the exam table. “Fill my hole. Breed me!” The three of us cried out as we came, filling holes with cum, neg and poz. Peter’s hole milked Graham’s cock as Graham’s cock milked mine. Our cries died down, the room smelling of sweat and cum. Graham fell forward, landing on Peter’s body, covering himself in Peter’s cum. I pulled myself out of Graham’s hole, watching as pink cum leaked out. “How does it look back there?” Graham asked. “Looks good,” I said, shoving a finger inside, rubbing the cum around his hairy hole. “How’s it look on your end?” Graham looked down at Peter who smiled. “Looks fucking great.” Graham leaned forward and kissed Peter, tasting the cum. "Looks like you've all had a good time." We turned and found Dom standing in the doorway, his cock still inside Lewis's hole. Cum ran down his legs, proving multiple loads had been given. "It's always great breaking in a new hole," I said, slapping Graham's ass. "Welcome to the brotherhood," Dom said. __________________________________________________________________________________________ This was an unexpected chapter, but I assumed you'd want a scene at the doctor's office. We'll move into the final chapters next, tying up whatever ends that exist. I'll try to leave some things open just in case I want to come back to this story, but I'll try to give you something like a conclusion. I'm still considering spin-offs. Not sure if I want multiple or one that contains whatever stories I might want to tell. Who knows. For now, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Till next time.

Ahhhh. Holy fuk Yeh. You masked Jeremy for it. So hoT. Wonder if he’ll “tweak out” if/when his mask comes off. This is the hottest real dad/real son story I’ve read read since “The Night Everything Changed,” in which son meets daddy at the bathhouse, and daddy introduces him to the glass pipe. Daddy then has a lot of people fuck son, but the story never concluded where daddy and son actually fucked. So much love fucking sex enhancement liberation, corruption, cheating and whoring out/slave stories! Less so about POZing, so I manage to get off on all the other things about this story! 🐷 🐽 oink.

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 love being rimmed. The perfect way to get ready for a long fuck.

Part 2 – His First Gift Martin kissed James tenderly, adding a soft, playful bite on his lower lip. The he slid his body up the length of James’ naked body, his cock tracing a line from groin to chin. Martin straddled James’ chest and pushed his cock into James’ eager mouth. James closed his eyes as Martin began to slowly fuck his face, his long cock sliding in until it hit the back of James’ throat, and again so the head brushed against his lips. Martin let out a happy groan, his cock feeling slick and warm inside James. “Oh my gawd, that feels so good,” he whispered. He plunged his dick back into James’ warm mouth. I watched as James, his sculpted body stretched out on the bed, stroked his big dick furiously as Martin fucked his mouth. I could hear the deep slurping sound as James worked Martin’s thick dick with his mouth, and Martin’s quiet appreciative moans. Martin shifted his weight backward, pulling his cock out of James’ eager mouth, and straddled him from the side. I could see both their hardons in full glory, caressed by the warm candlelight. He leaned in and kissed James again. “You are so beautiful,” he said, running his hand down James’ torso and seizing his cock. James gasped in pleasure, his body lifting off the silky sheets. Martin slid into a 69 and began devouring James’ cock while pushing his own back into James’ hungry mouth. The two writhed as they worked each other’s cocks, quiet slurping and guttural groans of pleasure overwhelming the rustle of the sheets beneath them. It was a beautiful site to see, and I stroked my own cock watching my boyfriend’s sexual pleasure. I’d shared James with other men in 3-ways, but witnessing this unload as an observer held its own unique magic. I wondered if they would finish each other off like this — they’re balls had to be boiling — they were so passionate in their connection. As if he read my mind, Martin lifted himself from James’ cock, straddled his chest with his ass hovering over James’ face. Was he a bottom? That both surprised and disappointed me a bit. But he quickly grabbed behind James’ knees and rolled him backward, bringing James’ ass to his own mouth. James gasped, his upper back pinned to the bed by Martin’s body resting on his chest, his muscular legs flailed in the air. Jolts of intense pleasure ripped through his body, and he lost control as Martin’s expert tongue worked inside his hole. James was moaning uncontrollably, his hands instinctively moving across Martin’s ass and back. He couldn’t find words, but just made animalistic sounds of ecstasy. Martin didn’t relent, working his tongue deeper into the soft flesh of James’ pink hole. He used his elbows to lock James’ knees behind him, restraining his movements. He relished the musky man smells of james’ body, which only fueled his desire to tame this sexual beast and make him submit to him. I’m going to mark this boy tonight, he thought to himself. Martin broke their position, letting James’ legs fall back to the bed sheets with a soft whomp. He reached to the nightstand, picking up several items, and shuffled / slid down the bed. He set a small bottle of poppers on James’ chest, resting between his muscular pecs. I felt a thrill go through my own body as Martin took position between James legs, spreading them wider. He was finally going to claim his prize for the night. I leaned closer to the window. The candlelight softly illuminated their naked bodies, and I could see both of their cocks distinctly standing erect. There was pure lust in the air as Martin applied lube to both their dicks, James groaning and writhing again as Martin worked his generous cock with both hands for a moment. One hand moved to James’ hole and began lubing it. James gasped again and arched his back as more jolts wracked his body. “I don’t have to ask if you’re ready, James,” Martin said tenderly. “I’m going to take you now. That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want the gift I have for you, don’t you?” James looked down the length of his body, his eyes half-open, half-closed, but filled with desire. He had things he thought he should say. He vaguely remembered Martin was poz, and knew there was something he should ask him to do. But those words were lost in the lust. “Please,” was all he could say. “Please.” Martin rolled James’ legs knees back to his chest, fluidly sliding forward as he did so, allowing his cock to find its way to the tender hole anxiously awaiting. He had worked James fully into submission, and had his body craving what was about to come next. James didn’t need the poppers, but locked eyes with Martin as the older of the two pressed the head of. His cock against James’ hole. James felt his sphincter greedily expand, ushering Martin’s swollen hardness inside. The pressure penetrated. Him deeply, and a passionate moan escaped his lips as he closed his eyes. And was consumed by Martin. The older man let out his own groan as the velvety warmth of the young man’s ass wrapped itself around his cock. He rolled forward, bending James in half, and kissed him passionately. While they exchanged loving kisses, Martin’s hips began to slowly churn. The subtle movements wrought soft moans that wove into their kissing. The sight of my boyfriend’s naked body entangled with Martin’s made my cock ache for release. Martin was deep inside my man, bareback. James powerful body had submitted itself to the man, which made me tingle all over. Martin rose up on his knees and began thrusting with intention. Some of the tenderness morphed into powerful thrusts. He looked down at James, taking in the magnificent image before him. This young man, more than 20 years younger, was stretched out, his legs on either side of Martin’s torso, giving him his ass. “Fuck me,” James pleaded. Martin grabbed James’s thighs and began fucking him harder, driving his dick deep inside the velvety fire he felt engulfing his cock. “My gawd your ass is amazing!” There passion became a power fuck, both men lost in the lust they shared. The hard slapping of bare skin against skin filled the air. James moaned with unbridled ecstasy, completely consumed with desire for Martin. “Fuck me! Pound my ass!” His voice had became. Stronger and more demanding, fueled by the energy they were sharing. “Fuck yeah!” Martin grunted. He was pounding the boy’s ass hard. An even darker desire that had been brewing inside him rushed to the surface. Tenderness melted into a malicious grin. “You’re mine, boy. Body and soul. I’m gonna breed you with my gift.” James felt a mysterious thrill in that moment. He seldom got bred by anyone, preferring to have a load shot across his chest or face. He loved the hot spatter of cum across his body and in his mouth. But in this instant he had a primal need to feel that hot cum inside him. He knew he shouldn’t want it. He knew it was dangerous. But looking at Martin looming over him, his hands grasping his calves and his abs flexing as he thrust inside him, he craved it. He wanted a part of Martin that he could keep with him forever. Martin could see the conflict in James’ handsome face, the battle between desire and fear contorted into a look of desperation. He relished that look, this moment. He’d seen it in other young faces in this bed, and it was the moment he always remembered. His intelligence, muscled body, and success — the very things that made James and the others attractive to him — were useless to James in this moment. He conceded them all to Martin’s control. This was the moment James could not decide for himself, and submitted to Martin’s choices for him. The dark desire totally filled Martin. “You’re mine!! You’re ass is mine now!” “Breed my ass!” James exclaimed, consumed by intense craving and lust for this man. His own face took on a malicious grin. “Fucking fill my ass with your cum.” James began jacking his own cock furiously. Martin pounded into his hole with a fury, making my boyfriend wince and whimper. Even as he was about to release. Martin grunted again and again, finally feeling the boiling desire inside him begin to pump itself into the sculpted young man under his control. James felt the throbbing of Martin’s engorged cock as it released, his soul trembling as the thick juices spattered inside him, bonding them. James erupted even as he was filled with Martin’s seed. Both men grunted and moaned, finally collapsing into an entangled, sweaty heap. Martin’s load was inside my boyfriend, while James was covered in his own thick cum. Together they convulsed in ecstatic aftershocks and heavy breathing. There was no pressure to move, and they were savoring their entanglement and new bond. I watched for a few minutes more, my own load spewed against the side of the house as I watched Martin breed my boyfriend’s raw ass. Now the pair was breathing together, coming down from the climax of their encounter. Martin seemed to still be inside James, and the two exchanges soft kisses. Their conversation was quiet, punctuated with quick bursts of laughter. Martin was discussing some friends who were arriving this week, and James shared our plans with him. Martin playfully suggested how hot it would have been to share this encounter in the dunes earlier in the day; James laughed, adding that their dune fuck video could go viral before Friday. Martin slipped his drained cock out of James. James sighed, “At least you left something behind inside me.” Martin grinned in the pale light. “I left you a special gift,” then kissed his new toy. I picked up my sneakers and quietly padded away, trying to move unseen in the late night. I had a feeling this was not going to be their only encounter this week.