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21 men with 22 loads on my 21st birthday. It was set up for me by a friend that either did porn or knew porn actors? Something like that. The men were mostly hot and everyone blew inside me. One guy went twice. That was the big hurrah in my life. The most since then has been around 4 or 5. lol nothing spectacular.

“Come on, dear,” Said Timmy’s mother. “ I think we need a little chat, don’t you?” and she led Jane off down the tow path. The men had finished with Nigel. He lay there panting, covered in sweat and cum. Arthur knelt and ruffled his hair. “Nice one!” He said. He bent and delicately licked the drool of cum leaking from Nigel’s arsehole, releasing his old dick and rubbing it to erection. “Just one more “ He said, covering the naked body and sliding his cock up inside. “and this one’s toxic as heck!” With that he grunted and spurted his diseased sperm deep inside Nigel who groaned as he felt the throbbing inside him. Arthur got off, found a rag and cleaned the lad up as best as he could. “Off you go, Nigel” He said when he was dressed. “I expect you’ll have some words with your aunty, eh?” Nigel set off and found his aunt drinking tea in the living room. Kevin sat on the other sofa, a miserable expression on his face. He was wearing a dressing gown and it looked like he was nude beneath. “Aha!” Said Jane. “So you’re back?” Nigel didn’t know what to say. “Apart from that disgusting exhibition this afternoon, Kevin tells us you’d already been a little slut in the sauna.” she said. Nigel flushed and nodded. She smiled. “and I bet you love the feel of a cock spewing nasty cum in you, eh? You’re as disgusting as each other.” The front door opened and Timmy’s mother came in. “All sorted,” she said. “ They’ll be here in a minute.” Aunt Jane turned to Kevin. “Take that thing off. Show us your pathetic body.” Kevin blushed, but he undid the belt and pushed it off his shoulders and sat there naked. “Now you.” They both looked at Nigel. “Come on!” Blushing and sweating with embarrassment he stripped off until he was naked and trembling, though his tiny cock was hard beneath his belly. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. “Stay there!” Said Jane. She went out. Nigel heard male voices and then the door opened and Arthur came in with two of the men from the canal. They were both black, middle aged and still holding a bottle of booze. They looked a bit uncertain when they saw the two women and Kevin and Nigel both naked. “Don’t mind us!” Said Timmy’s mum, guiding Jane over to some chairs by the dining table. The men laughed and nudged each other. Arthur decided to get things going. He dropped his trousers and began to wank his cock. “Kneel on the sofa then, mate” He said to Kevin. Kevin paused and looked at Jane. She gave nothing away but Timmy’s mum said “bend over, then.” He turned and knelt on the cushions, offering his ample bottom to the room. Nigel saw Timmy’s mother smirking and a look of shock but excitement on Jane’s face as she saw Kevin’s arse upraised. Arthur dug a dirty tube of lube from his pocket and applied some to Kevin’s hole. Sighing happily, he raised his shirt and began to slide his cock into Kevin’s rectum. Kevin’s groan was matched by the gasp from Jane as she watched in fascination as Kevin was buggered by the disgusting old man. The two other men closed in on Kevin, feeling his body and squeezing his little cock. After a few moments they began to strip, exposing sizeable black cocks below hairy bellies as the room filled with Kevin’s groans. Nigel was trembling as they led him to the other sofa and made him kneel. The two women stared at him as on of the men grabbed the lube from the side table and rubbed it into his cock. Then the other man held Kevin’s cheeks apart and they all watched as the big, black cock sank between the pale, upraised buttocks. Nigel gasped as he was buggered and he heard Arthur grunt as he shot his load. “Well now, isn’t this nice.” Said Timmy’s mother. “You must come round to my place one evening!”

Wow. Thank you all so much for the incredible feedback. Reading your comments, knowing you were right there with me, feeling that same mix of terror and excitement... it's a huge rush. It makes me want to dive back in and share what happened next. This next part is again fiction, but it's inspired directly by some of the encounters I've had in the last few days. Things are... escalating. And I need to get it out. Part 2: The Biker’s Offering You're 49. You have a successful job that you're good at, a life that looks stable and normal from the outside. You've been married to your wonderful husband for over ten years. He is, without a doubt, the man of your dreams, the man you want to grow old with. But, as it turned out over the years, you're both... well, you're both more bottoms. Your sex life gradually decreased to a beautiful, respectful zero. You have a weekend relationship, which means you live apart during the week. There's this unspoken agreement that you are exclusive on the weekends when you are together, but everyone is free to do what they want during the week. You have never, ever spoken about safe or bareback sex. But to you, it feels like you're expected to stay safe, even though there would be no risk for him if you didn't, given the complete lack of sex between you. Don't get it wrong, you truly love him and would never do anything to intentionally hurt him. This need... this is for you alone. It's your private addiction. So, the next day after the lunchtime encounter, with all its unknown risks, you're back at your desk. It's a lazy work day. At 11:30, you feel the urge to go to the toilet and take a big crap. As you sit there, feeling your ass extend, a sudden, powerful thought hits you. What if you took off for lunch a little longer? What if you went back to the same rest area? You are in your car before you've even fully processed the thought. When you get there, there's only one other car in the lot. An average-looking guy, a little younger than you, is leaning against it, smoking a cigarette. You stay in your car, figuring the woods are probably empty. Then the guy drops his cigarette, grounds it out with his boot, and starts walking towards the entrance to the woods. But he doesn't just walk. He turns around one last time and looks directly at you in your car. His eyes lock with yours through the windshield. It's an invitation. A challenge. Your hand moves on its own. You pull out your poppers. One deep sniff. The warmth starts to bloom. Two. The courage begins to surge. Three, four. The world dissolves into a haze of confident, chemically-induced lust. You're no longer a successful 49-year-old husband. You're a hunter. You open the car door and follow him into the trees. But as you walk, the memory of yesterday floods your mind. The memory of the young apprentice was so vivid, so powerful. But it was the question that was consuming you: "You are healthy???" Why the emphasis? He was so dominant, so unconcerned with anything but his own pleasure. Why did that one thing matter so much? And now, today, you're following this younger guy into the woods. The memory of that solitary orgasm, the one you had while contemplating your potential conversion, makes your own cock throb with anticipation. You find him in a small clearing. He turns, and you see the look in his eyes. He's not the apprentice. He's just a guy. A guy who saw a hungry man in a car and decided to take a chance. You walk up to him in the small clearing. The air is thick with unspoken need, a palpable humidity of desire. He's exactly as you first saw him: average, maybe a little soft around the middle, with a nervous energy that clashes with your poppers-fueled confidence. You open your belts – he yours, you his – the metallic clicks sounding loud in the quiet woods. You pull each other's cocks out. He has this average, long but thin hard uncut cock, the foreskin already slick with precum. You wank each other, the familiar rhythm a mechanical comfort, like a dance you both know the steps to but have no passion for. You touch each other, your hands exploring chests, arms, faces. Your faces get closer, your cheeks touching. His stubble rubbing against your own trimmed beard, a scratchy, intimate sound that should ignite you, but doesn't. You kiss. Your tongues mingle, a wet, desperate dance, but it feels like performance. You're trying to find the apprentice in him, the dominant spark from yesterday, but all you can taste is hesitation and a weak, coffee-flavored tongue. There's no spark, no fire. He is hard and leaking, his body clearly ready, but your own PA cock is not getting fully hard. It's a heavy, inert piece of metal and flesh, a barometer of your soul's disinterest. Something is not right. The chemistry is off, the connection is false. You're going through the motions, a ghost playing at being a slut. Dropping to your knees feels like a strategic move, a way to do something, to force the arousal. You take his thin cock in your mouth. It's easy to take, the length sliding over your tongue. You blow him, working your lips and tongue, trying to convince yourself that this is what you want. Your body is on its knees, but your mind is somewhere else, replaying the apprentice's almost brutal, 30-second fuck. This feels like a chore, like sucking on a piece of pasta instead of taking a hard, thick risk. But with every bob of your head, the feeling of wrongness grows stronger. This isn't the primal, risky act you crave. This feels... clinical. In the end, you pull off, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You separate, a silent, awkward agreement of failure. He zips up and walks away, disappearing towards the parking lot. While you were playing, another guy arrived and passed you, walking deeper into the woods. You're still horny, but the poppers effect is already gone, leaving you with only the bitter taste of frustration. You pull out your poppers and take a few more hits, the chemical rush washing over you again, trying to reignite the fire that's sputtering out. Then you look for him. You find him leaning against a large oak tree, looking like a character from a fairy tale. He's about 30, with a soft, round belly and a long, unkempt beard that frames a kind, gentle face. He seems approachable, safe. And a part of you hates him for it. You didn't come here for a gentle giant; you came here for a monster. You approach him. You grope each other's bulges. He pulls out his cock – a little nub of flesh, not even four inches hard, with a thick thatch of pubic hair. You wank him, your movements mechanical, but again, you can't get really hard. The frustration is mounting, a sour taste in your mouth. Again, you go on your knees, this time out of a desperate, last-ditch hope. A nice load of cum might stimulate you, might get you hard. You take him in your mouth. He tastes nice, clean, like freshly washed skin and the faint scent of shower lotion. The cleanliness is an insult. You want to taste sweat, and dirt, and the raw, unwashed scent of a man who lives on the edge. You want to taste danger, not fucking soap. It doesn't work. You are not a size queen, you tell yourself, but his cock just doesn't give you any pleasure, to scratch that deep, masochistic itch. There's no stretch, no burn, no feeling of being taken and used. Eventually, you pull off, mumbling an excuse. You separate, another wave of disappointment washing over you, cold and sharp. You're left standing there in the quiet woods, your knees dirty, your cock still half-limp, a profound sense of failure settling in. The hunger is still there, a roaring beast in your gut, but you've just tried to feed it salad. You came here seeking a risk, a transformation, and all you've found are two awkward, unsatisfying encounters. You came here to be used, to be filled, to be changed, and instead, you feel emptier than before. You contemplate driving back to work, your lunch break a complete and utter waste of time. At this point, you hear some cracking behind you. You turn around and see him. A guy around your age, a biker type in his leather gear. He's just standing there, directly staring at you, his arms crossed over his chest, a slow, knowing smile playing on his lips. He looks like the monster you were looking for. "Been watching you," he says, his voice a low, confident rumble. "I know you need more." You are magically attracted to him, a moth to a dangerous, hypnotic flame. You walk over, your feet moving as if pulled by an invisible string. He is pure dominance. He doesn't wait for you to speak. He grabs your crotch, his grip firm, possessive, a claim. He unzips you and pulls out your cock, his eyes fixing on your heavy PA. "Not so innocent as it seems," he chuckles approvingly. He opens the zipper of his leather pants. Wow, he is commando. He pulls out his own monster, a thick, curved beast with a PA even bigger than yours, a heavy circular barbell with two heavy-duty steel balls that look less like jewelry and more like ammunition, promising a unique kind of pleasure. He's going to fuck you. You know it. He knows it. But the memory of yesterday, the apprentice's question, the lingering risk, makes you nervous. "Condom?" you ask, your voice betraying your eagerness with a slight tremble. He just smiles, a slow, cruel twist of his lips. "I can wrap up," he says, reaching into his leather pocket and pulling out a foil packet. He dangles it between his fingers, a tiny, square tease. "I have one." He looks you dead in the eye, his gaze piercing through your chemically-induced haze. "But do you really want me to?" He lets the question hang in the air, heavy and toxic. "I don't need one..." The back-and-forth is a torture of its own. You, the man who took a load without a question yesterday, now hesitating. He, the dominant biker, giving you the choice, making you own your depravity. He slowly, deliberately tears open the foil packet. The sound is loud, sharp. He pulls out the thin rubber, holding it by the tip between his thumb and forefinger. He brings it to your face, not to put it on, but to taunt you with it. He holds it under your nose. You can smell the sterile, latex scent, a smell of safety that now smells like cowardice. "You seem a little tense," he says, his voice a low purr. He puts the condom away and pulls out his own small, brown bottle of poppers. "Let's clear your head." He twists off the cap and places the bottle directly against your right nostril. "Five deep sniffs," he commands. "Don't you dare lose any." You inhale, the chemical rush flooding your system, stronger than your own. He moves to your left nostril. "And five more." You obey, your head spinning, the world dissolving into a warm, pulsing haze of pure submission. He caps the bottle and puts it away. "Now," he says, his voice cutting through the fog. "Tell me. Do you need a condom? Or do you want my cock raw?" Your addiction to the risk wars with your fear, but the poppers have already won the war for you. You can't form the word. You just shake your head, a barely perceptible motion of surrender. He spins you around and bends you over a fallen log. He presses the thick head of his cock against your hole, but you're too tight, too tense, even for the chemically-induced relaxation. His massive tool won't go in. "Hmm," he grunts, frustrated. He looks down at the ground and spots something. He leans over and picks up a used, tied-off condom lying in the dirt. "Might need a condom after all," he says, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He holds it up. It's not just full; it's heavy, and you can see a slight steam rising from it in the cool air. "Still warm," he chuckles, a dark, appreciative sound. "Someone just got lucky." He unties the knot and a thick, milky glob of another man's fresh cum drips out. He squeezes the contents onto his own massive shaft, using the stranger's still-warm seed as lube to finally, brutally, force his way inside you. The sensation is overwhelming. The stretch, the burn, the knowledge of what's inside you, what's now being used to open you up for him. This isn't just some old, ghostly load; this is a fresh deposit, a living offering you're being coated with. He doesn't fuck you for 30 seconds. He fucks you for what feels like an eternity, his thick PA-studded cock dragging against your insides, the hard steel of the oversized barbell's balls slapping against your prostate with every thrust, a constant, stimulating, punishing presence. Ten minutes, fifteen, your legs bent over the log, starting to shake and weaken from the strain. The poppers haze begins to lift, the edges of reality sharpening. Your consciousness and nervousness come flooding back. "Are you gonna cum?" you finally pant, a new kind of panic in your voice. "Please... pull out before you cum." He just chuckles, his rhythm never faltering. "Too late," he grunts, his voice calm and controlled. "I already shot twice. This is number three." The revelation sends a shockwave through your system. The sheer, unrestrained power of it. The endless stamina. The endless seed. The fact that he's already been cumming inside you, silently, while you were lost in the sensation. That's it. You can't hold back. You cry out as your own cock explodes, untouched, creaming yourself all over the leaves and dirt beneath you. As your orgasm tears through you, you become vaguely aware of movement in the periphery. A few more guys have appeared, drawn by the sounds of raw, animalistic sex. They're on their lunch breaks, looking for a quick encounter, but they've stumbled upon something else entirely. They don't dare join. They don't dare disturb this powerful scene. They just watch from a safe distance, their own hard cocks in their hands, wanking slowly as they witness the biker claiming you. You're no longer just a participant; you're the main event in a grim, outdoor theater. A part of you wanted to shrink away, to hide from their eyes. But a bigger, darker part of you preened. You weren't just being fucked; you were being worshipped. Every one of them was wishing they were you, or wishing they were him. He fucks you through your orgasm, prolonging it, owning it, then finally, with a deep, satisfied groan, he empties his third, massive load deep inside you, mixing with the stranger's fresh cum he used as lube. He stays inside you for a long moment, his chest heaving, marking his territory. The small crowd of onlookers melts back into the woods, their own needs satisfied by the show. You pull off, your legs trembling, your body buzzing, your mind completely blown. You get dressed in a daze, your movements clumsy and slow. You turn to leave, but you have to look back. You have to see him one more time. He's tucking his junk back in his leathers, and as he does, you see it. The lower part of a tattoo, right above his cock. The lines are sharp, deliberate. Arcs beginning their menacing descent towards his pubic hair, pointing to the magnificent cock that just owned you. The rest of it is hidden by his belt and jacket, but it's clearly part of a larger, intimidating design. He catches you staring. He zips up his fly slowly, the sound loud and final in the quiet woods. He walks over to you, his presence overwhelming. He doesn't touch you. He just looks you up and down, a predator assessing its kill. He reaches out, not to touch you, but to pluck a single leaf from your hair, letting it fall to the ground. It's a small, intimate gesture of ownership, a claim being staked. He leans in close, his voice a low, possessive whisper right next to your ear. "If you want more of that," he says, his breath hot against your skin, "you know where to find us." He pulls back, gives you that same slow, knowing smile, and turns, walking away without a backward glance. The words hang in the air, a challenge and a permission slip all in one. He's not telling you to come back. He's telling you that he's here, and the choice to be claimed again is yours. And as you stand there, the phantom feeling of his load already warming you from the inside, you both know what you'll choose.

I got my last loads, yes loads, at Club Buddies here in Colorado Springs. I was in a sling for 10 hours and was fucked, bred, seeded for hours and was left and loose, juicy and a cummy hole! Cum all over me inside and out and all.over the floor where it dripped out or off of me! I fucking loved it!

I got picked up at a local bar at a hotel in Laguna Beach....a straight swinger couple...middle-aged and great shape...he had a huge thick 9 inch dick...they wanted me to watch them fuck...went back to the hotel and they proceeded to fuck on the bed...I sat in chair next to the bed and jerked off...as he proceeded to reach an orgasm( which I am surprised he could do cause she was screaming like a banshee) he pulled out, jumped up, and put his dick in my face...I immediately engulfed it and he came down in my gullet as I shot cum all over his leg...I am glad I could participate in their fantasy...lol

I have really lost count. I have been having sex for 48 years. And lots of it. Certainly in my late teens and 20s I had sex almost every day. And not just with one guy. Multiple meets and/or multiple guys on the same day. My 30s on average 4 times a week. It slowed down a bit in my 40s and then suddenly I was a popular "Daddy bottom" in my 50s and still am. Now I bottom 2-3 times a week for a hunky 20s guy with a big dick, a thing for daddies and a high sex drive. I almost don't have to go to the gym anymore. Plenty of exercise at home 😉 But I love watching the hot guys at the gym pumping their muscles.

Finally met up with a hot guy that had been talking to me online for like a week now and he was definitely worth the wait! Within a few minutes of him getting here, he was like "Wow, you look even cuter in person!" I thanked him and was thinking the same thing about him. After a few more minutes of talk, he started making out with me and the whole "tongue in the ear/neck" thing drives me nuts. He whispered "I want to own your hole" in my ear and I thought. . .lets give him what he wants! He slid my shorts off and I had a jock on already which he loved. After a few minutes of eating me out he flipped me on my back, spread my legs and continued to make out for a minute before sliding into me. I always love to watch the look on a guy's face when they pop in . . .so hot!!!! He held my feet and just kept pumping me deep and slow which I also love. That went on for almost a half hour until he started doing those little "uhhhhhhh's and hmmmmmm's" which ultimately escalated into him literally flooding me with what felt like a gallon of nut. We laid there for a minute making out and just when I thought he was ready to jet, flipped me on my back again and he went for like another 15 minutes before unloading again. Awesome! He slid out, made out some more and asked if I would want to meet up again later this week. DUH!!!!! Hope he'll make good on that! GREAT MONDAY!

Chapter 1: Finally It all started a couple of years ago when I was 16. My parents started fighting all the time. Up until then it seemed like they had the perfect marriage. But unfortunately my mom caught my dad cheating. I'm not sure with whom but I was definitely disappointed. My dad had completely changed. Now mind you we didn't have a perfect relationship but it wasn't bad either. But now he was distant even with me and I couldn't figure out why. The fighting got so bad that after school I would go to the park and do my homework and just relax to get away from all the yelling. At night when I got home I would go to my room and put my headphones on and just listen to music. The next two years were miserable. My mom became an alcoholic and my dad did whatever he wanted to do and basically just flat out ignored me. I had some money in my savings account and decided when I graduated I was getting out of there as fast as possible. I started searching for a room to rent when I spotted a listing that caught my eye. $200 a month in a 2 story house over looking a lake. I called the number and Frank answered right away. I told him I was interested in the room and we agreed upon a time for me to stop by and check it out. Thankfully I didn't have to wait but a couple of days to meet him and check out the property. It was a 45 minute drive out to the house which flew by because I was enjoying the peace and quiet. As I drove up I was in shock. The house was gorgeous. 2 story brick with a wrap around porch. Huge yard in front with a descent size lake in the back. As I stopped the car Frank came outside to meet me. Up until now I really didn't think about my sexuality because the only thing on my mind was getting away from my parents. Frank looked to be over 6 feet tall and although he wasn't fit per say he definitely wasn't fat either. Me on the other hand I'm maybe 5'5" and weigh about 130 pounds. I thought he was a good looking guy but at this point he didn't turn me on. I just realized Frank was definitely a man's man. We chatted a little outside and walked the property. I did notice that there were no other houses in sight and it didn't bother me at all. As we talked Frank found out why I was looking to get away and he completely understood. After about 20 minutes outside we made our way inside and I just absolutely fell in love with the inside. There were beautiful rugs on the floor and some wonderful paintings throughout the house. The living room had a huge sofa in front of a 75 inch television. Upstairs were 3 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms. This place was perfect. I was stunned at how beautiful the whole place was. Frank asked me if I was interested in moving in and I didn't hesitate. Frank said "Wonderful. But you need to know two things about me first. Once you hear them you might change your mind. Number one I'm gay and number 2 I like to walk around nude." Honestly I didn't care about either one. It was his house after all. I looked at him and said "That's not a problem. May I still move in and would you like me to walk around nude as well?" Frank's eyes lit up and said "Yes you may move in and absolutely I'd love to see you nude." After a handshake we went outside and got my bags from my car. Frank helped me get the bags into the room. Frank said "I'll meet you downstairs when you're finished putting your things away and if you don't mind will you come downstairs nude." I said" I don't mind at all. Just give me a few minutes and I'll be right down." I put my stuff away fairly quickly because I didn't have much. I got undressed and made my way downstairs. Frank was in the kitchen fixing us something to drink. He had the refrigerator open so I couldn't see anything as I walked up. Once I got to him I spotted his cock. His cock dwarfed mine. He had to be 5 inches soft and thick. Very little hair around his cock and balls. I felt myself getting dry mouthed and was unaware that staring at his cock was causing me to get hard as well. I was mesmerized. It was absolutely beautiful. Frank set the drinks down on the counter. Without thinking I asked Frank if I could touch his cock. Without knowing it my whole life was about to change.

Just turned 40 and realized my hole has been underutilized throughout my 30s. By 50 I hope I can look back at this next decade as the hole I was meant to be.

Just got a MASSIVE load from a 20something with a VERY NICE BBC! It reaches my 3rd ring! This is the 2nd time he has bred me. Both times I've been waiting on my knees bent over a chair with a blindfold on. He comes in, I hear him undress, and then I feel him patting my ass and feeling my hole. He then smacks my ass a couple times with his cock before sliding in balls deep! He goes for about 5 minutes before I hear his breathing get ragged and then he slams in balls deep again and I feel him pumping his load deep in my guts. After he pulls out, I can feel his cum trickling down my taint! I remove my blindfold and give him the clean up he deserves! Love tasting his cum and my ass on his cock!

More than 1000 Sometimes in one week I can do like 50 ...

Spent last week on the road. First stop was an adult shop with booths and gloryholes in WV. I’d been there before and had good luck sucking multiple dicks, swallowing loads, and taking an amazing tattooed pumped dick in my bearholes. Paid my $5 entry and hit the gloryhole. Dick #1, 5’10” 50s, was about 6” with a meaty head. I teased his head with my tongue before swallowing it whole. He shoved his pubes into the hole and shoved his dick to the back of my throat and unloaded a thick slightly salty load. I didn’t get off my knees when dick #2 entered the booth. He was It was 7” and thick. I sucked on him for a few minutes but then he pulled out. I left the booth to see he was an older, married (ring) guy. I beckoned him to a larger booth we could share and proceeded to get things done properly. As I sucked his knob, he would pull back not wanting to cum. After 3 or 4 times, I was able to get him past the point of no return and was rewarded with a large tasty load of cum. A true cock sucker, I slowly milked his dick to get every drop on my tongue. Two back to back got me some attention so I hit the booth again. In quick order, I got dicks #3, short but thick mushroom head, and #4, 6” average thickness. Both gave me a tasty load to swallow. Did an overnight with no action…sometimes you take a break. Second stop was another adult shop in KY. It was pretty quiet in there considering the parking lot was full but I did manage to get 3 dicks to coat my throat with cum. Did an overnight hotel. Not much action.. lots of flakes and no loads. Figured I’d hit the adult shops on the return trip Third stop. Returned to adult shop in KY. My luck day. Watched a hot hairy older daddy was getting sucked by a big polar bear guy. They split up and the hot daddy got chatty Told him I was there to get fucked. We went to booth and he unleashed a daddy wrist thick - yes that thick- dick! I swallowed it and worked until I tasted precum. He then pushed me over and slid that dick deep in my hole with full strokes. His thickness and full strokes in and out of my gut had my dick dripping cum. He grunted, “take my load boy” as he unloaded deep in my gut. Fourth stop was an overnight hotel. Jumped on Sniffies and an otter cub wanted drop a load in the bearhole. He came over and we fucked and sucked. Bit disappointed that after an hour of play he couldn’t come fucking me. We settled for oral and a facial. Huge load right in the eye before I could latch on and swallow the rest. After he left, a guy I had chatted with earlier said he needed to breed an ass. Who are am I to say no to dick in ass? He wanted ass up, darkened room. Being a good cumdump I provided the service. Holy shit! This guy was hung and thick. I lubed up and took a hit of poppers. Old poppers still worked! He slid in to rock bottom and did those dick pulses that drive me crazy horny. He pounded my bearhole in multiple positions, finally had me leaning over bed, and said music to my ears, “I’m going to breed you!” He flooded my ass with a big load. He stayed in until he went semi-soft and pulled out. I felt cum flow down the back of my legs. I asked permission to turn from my face down position (hadn’t seen his face) to taste the last drops of cum from the tap. He obliged and I savored his last drops. Ass 2 mouth my ass tasted good on his cummy dick. Final stop back at the first adult shop. Lucky day again sucking off dicks and taking two dicks. First was a construction guy with a nice plump dick and thick load. Second was an older guy with a nice length and delicious load. Third was a silver daddy that was open to fucking. He was married so wanted a condom. I took one for the team but was a good slut and drank his load from the condom and liked off his dripping dick. Fourth guy had an amazing thick shaft and mushroom head. He slid that rich in my prelubed hole and fucked about 5 minutes before blowing a load inside. Saw him a few minutes later feeding my ass juices on his dick to a hungry cum slut. I ended my visit with one more sick and swallow before heading on up the road. I love a good road trip! Til next time…

I say this gently, because I get the attraction and the fantasy; but, neighbors are one of those situations where the risk massively outweighs the reward. Friendly conversation, working out, or even perceived curiosity doesn’t equal consent or sexual interest, especially when someone hasn’t explicitly opted into ethical non-monogamy or same-sex exploration. If you’re misreading things (and it’s very easy to do when horny), there’s no clean exit... you still have to live next door to each other, possibly for years. You don’t know whether his marriage is open, whether his spouse would be hurt if she found out, or whether he’s even in a place where being approached wouldn’t feel scary or threatening. Do you really know their situation that well? Parenting is exhausting, and stress changes everything. Turning a neighbor into a “secret” situation can cross boundaries very quickly. Add kids, a shared community space, and daily proximity, and a single uncomfortable moment could permanently alter the dynamic of your home and neighborhood. On top of that, visibility from their windows creates a real risk that his spouse, children, or another household member (or even a visitor) could notice what’s happening and react. At best, that creates awkwardness; at worst, it brings unnecessary tension into your own damn home. If you're looking for is discretion and fun without fallout, strangers who have explicitly opted in (apps, bars, play spaces) are always a much safer and more respectful option than someone who can’t easily walk away if they’re uncomfortable. Just my two cents // but it's a hot fantasy, with very high-stakes in real life. That said, PLAY THE LONG GAME. If over time you genuinely get to know him better, build real trust or friendship, and it becomes clear he’s open and enthusiastic, that’s a very different situation. You could thoughtfully re-evaluate then, and/or at the worse make a buddy.

The next day, Nigel was left on his own as his aunt was meeting a friend and Kevin had a job on the other side of town. He was excited but apprehensive about what had happened at the sauna. Had he really let those old men fuck him? It seemed like a dream, but his sore and gaping arsehole was evidence it wasn’t. He was worried about the toxic cum in him but also excited when he thought about it and couldn’t help wanking his little cock until it spurted in the toilet. Later, he decided to go into town with the vague idea of going to see a film. It wasn’t a great town, somewhat run down, but it had a canal running through it and as he was early he decided to walk along the tow path. It was a hot day and he began to get sweaty even though he was only wearing a tee shirt and shorts over his short, fat body. He found himself in an older area with a wall beside the path and a succession of tunnels over the canal. As he approached one, he saw a group of men standing under the arch which also seemed to have some kind of alcove in the back of it. They were mostly black, very rough looking and passing a bottle between them. He hesitated about walking through them but then recognised a small old man from the sauna who he remembered was called Arthur. “Well, well!” He grinned, showing off his blackened teeth. “If it isn’t Nigel from yesterday. How’s your bum? Still sore?” Nigel blushed as he approached the group. He intended to keep walking, but Arthur took his arm and a couple of the men barred his way. “He’s got a lovely arse. Fat cheeks and tight hole.” The men grinned and leered at him. Nigel felt afraid yet excited. He wanted to leave, but something made him also want to stay. One of the men offered him the bottle. He was a short, old black guy with a stained sweat shirt and trousers. “Have a swig!” He said in a tone which was more of an order. Nigel took the bottle. The liquor burned his throat and made his eyes water. The men laughed and one of them suddenly pinched his nipple through his tee shirt. He gasped but felt his cock stiffen in his shorts. Arthur produced some poppers and handed them round. The air under the arch was filled with aroma which made Nigel’s heart pound. “Good lad!” Said Arthur. “I’m sure you’d like to entertain my friends, wouldn’t you?” He indicated the alcove in the back of the tunnel. There was a pile of rubbish, and in amongst it was an old, stained mattress. “ I...I..dunno.” Said Nigel, his head swimming from the poppers. Around him, a couple of old men opened their trousers and were wanking hungrily. “Don’t worry. They just want to fuck you. You’d like that wouldn’t you? “Arthur stuck the bottle under his nose and Nigel felt himself led into the darkened alcove. “By the way, we’re all very toxic but you won’t mind being bred with their dirty babies will you? After all, you're probably already pregnant, eh?” Nigel’s head was swimming but the poppers had made him melt with lust. He heard Arthur say “Someone keep watch while we do him!” Then he was in the alcove and eager hands stripped him of tee shirt and shorts. He heard them sigh happily as they laid his nude body face down on the mattress. Something wet and slippery was rubbed in the cleft between his buttocks and then the first of them got on top of him and slid a heavy cock up his arsehole. He gasped with the size of it, but it felt so good he opened around it easliy Arthur stood in the tunnel looking along the path. Every now and then he glanced into the alcove, noting yet another pair of naked, sweating buttocks rise and fall on Nigel’s pale body as he was buggered. Two women were coming along the path. One he recognised from the sauna – Timmy’s mother was it? - but he didn’t know the other. As they drew level Timmy’s mum said “ Hello Arthur. What are you doing here? “ She glanced at the homeless guys and leered. “I think I know!” Arthur just laughed and licked his lips at her. “This is my friend, Jane. Her nephew Nigel is staying with her and he said he might come into town later so we’re walking in to find him.” There was a grunt and a low moan of ecstasy from the alcove. The women glanced at each other at the unmistakable sounds of sex. Nigel's aunt blushed as Arthur winked at her. Arthur grinned. This was a turn up! Should he? Should he? He giggled and moved the crowd aside so they could see the alcove. Nigel was naked, face down being fucked slowly, sexily by a fat black guy who had his trousers down. His naked bittocks clenched and relaxed as he thrust into the arsehole already lubed with several loads of spunk. Nigel turned his head and opened his eyes “Aunt!” He gasped. She raised her hand to her mouth “Nigel!” she said in shock. Timmy’s mother laughed and gave her a cuddle. “Naughty little so and so, isn’t he?”

continued The sound of the porn playing on the screen was turned up and poppers were once again handed to both Steve and I, this time by the dark haired man, and more as a command to take a deep hit of the poppers and not as an option. Steve took a heavy huff and then passed the bottle to me. With Steve’s cum dripping down my chin, I placed the bottle at the base of my nose and took a long inhale. As my body began to warm and all I could think was to get my lips once more around that young stud cock staring me in the face. I leaned forward and began to wrap my tongue around the shaft as my lips slid up and down the veiny young pole. I could see Steve reach his fist around for the black cock behind him. As he began to slowly message the man cock, it began to grow and stiffen. Long and thick, slightly bent to the left, it looked like it could destroy a hole. Pulling my head of the wrestler cock I turned for the dark man meat. He placed his hand on the back of my head and pulled me towards his monster rod. I opened my mouth as wide as possible and tried to get as far down the shaft that I could. Barely have way down, I opened my throat as he pressed hard and began to force fuck my throat. Getting to the base of his cock he pressed hard against my head and thrust his hips forward, working him massive cock down my throat, gagging me. He knew exactly what a young man needed. Although I was a college freshman, this wasn’t my first rodeo and I was into rough group sex. Exhibition was turning me on. Now hard as steel, he pulled my head of his cock and returned me to the blond wrestler stud. As I began to work me head into his crotch, the black man pushed the young studs shoulders forward and began to massage his enormous cock the Steve’s perfect ass crack. Sliding it up and down, the huge black tool was poised to begin the widening of the jock pale hole. I looked to the right and noticed the dark haired man with tattoos and the smooth chiseled blond in only their leather harness, stroking their cocks. My uncle was on the other side in only his harness smoking his cigar, his meat dangling like a firehouse. The black bodybuilder spit on his cock and began to bury it little by little into the wrestler. Moaning I could tell is was not an easy fit. I pulled off his cock and was offered some more whiskey by the dark haired man. Taking a swig I looked to see about half that gigantic cock now in the wrestler. I got to my knees and began to suck the blond man’s cock. In his thirties, I knew that cock had been around and brought experience, and probably a trail of STDs, to the game. I figured I would need to make another trip to the public health clinic later in the week. It had become a well worn path. I was pointed to the coffee table, walked over and laid my back down with my head at one end. The dark haired man moved to feed me his cock while the blond began to work on my now erect rod. Not long after, the blond had my legs raised as he started to lick my ass while the dark haired man forced his cock down my throat. All of a sudden the sound of the bodybuilder working the hole of the young blond wrestler ceased, the dark haired man pulled his cock from my throat, the blond exited his tongue from my ass and after my uncle took a puff from his cigar, he directed us all to proceed downstairs. We were heading for the dungeon.

My 6th birthday I was showing my hole to my brother!

First time I was bred and loved it. I’ve been sucking and swallowing this guy a few times and he has a magnificent cut cock. He would just rim me while I deep throat him until he cums down my throat. Sometimes I would spit some of his cum on my cock and jack off with it. He’s been asking to fuck me but as I was still an anal virgin I would say know, but I wanted him in me. So finally went out and bought a medium size training plug and a dildo and started training myself. After a bit of training, I invited him over to play. I came over and immediately began passionately eating my hole. I begged for him to fuck me which he eagerly obliged. It was slow and deep while I was prone bone. I loved that. Then he flipped me over and put my legs over his shoulders and fucked me for a bit. He started to slow down saying he didn’t want to cum yet and that’s when it. “Don’t slow down, I want you to cum inside me.” He started to pick up the pace again and all I could say was “please breed me.” When he did, I was in heaven. I couldn’t believe how good it felt to be so slutty and submissive. I can’t wait to see him again.

That’s the way to go! Fast, nasty, pump and dump, no talking taking anon bb loads up the ass.

I was 18 and it was totally unplanned. I tried the doing the straight thing throughout high school (thanks to a strict church upbringing), but I never got past second base with any of them. I was always timid and never really interested. The entire time I was chatting with an older top and exclusively beating off to gay thoughts. I had a messy breakup with my then girlfriend and said fuck it. I messaged the top saying I wanted to suck his dick. We met at his work after hours in one of the stalls in one of the public, family bathrooms. While happily sucking my first cock, he casually told me to turn around and spread my knees apart. I definitely hadn't planned on getting fucked. Next thing I know his hands are on my hips and he's spitting on my asshole while pushing his dick into me. It was surreal in the moment. This was the mid-90s. No prep meds. The city I lived in at the time had, per capita, the highest STI rate among gay men in the US. Of course, I had no condoms because it was only going to be head. A million thoughts race through my mind while he took my virginity especially knowing that he was raw and that he was going to cum inside me. When he finally came it was the greatest and the scariest thing in the world for me. As I was starting to get up, he goes, "Don't worry. I had to get tested for my health insurance." It seemed like the strangest thing to say to someone. By the time I drove back to my apartment, the anxiety had disappeared and I just wanted him to fuck me more. I messaged him telling him that, and he stopped by my place on his way home to deposit another load. I knew I was hooked. He was also the person that introduced me to the one bath house we had in the city.

I think about 20 in person over 50 on zoom lol

Good job boy. Now heal up and take more.

For me the biggest group.is about 35, being in LA it was at flex right in the middle of the play room. Ofcourse different amounts at slammer as well.

YES. 😅

At the very 1st CumUnion party by LAX, there were probably 75 guys in front of me in line that night, and absolutely nothing happening yet when I got in and naked. I proceeded to shove my dick up the 1st 3 bottoms lined up offering their holes, and had the 2nd bottom shove his dick up my hole while I was in the 3rd, before the crowd took the hint and started fucking each other and got too distracted to pay attention.

The Bd/Sm community has had a number of "key words" for decades that apply to this issue. First and foremost: the negotiation. This is a meeting of the Dom and (would-be) sub somewhere neutral - a non-threatening place in public (often a cafe, to share a meal), or any place where a quiet-yet-crucial conversation can be had. This negotiation will lay out all the "limits" each man may (or may not) have, so both know what the limits actually are. This is crucial so the prospective sub conveys his desires to be fulfilled, as well as acts that he's not yet ready to fulfill. it's crucial for each man to know before the initial scene is to take place (generally at the Dom's place, since he's more likely to possess more "gear" than a sub who's just beginning his journey into submission), and the purpose of the negotiation is to outline the various acts demonstrating Dominance or submission, since not all acts of Bd/sm would be appropriate for a newbie to the D/s life. You should be prepared to state clearly to the prospective Dom what particular acts - if there are any - that you're unfamiliar with, concerned about - and the prospective Dom should do the same. Think of it as a "meeting of the minds" - a prelude to the actual performance. Any - any questions you have should be brought up for discussion, and definitely any concerns for your physical safety. There are no questions that would be considered "out of line". It's in the Dom's best interest too, to know where you are presently, in your journey into sexual submission. In the event that you need another meeting after the first negotiation (clear up lingering issues in your mind, etc), by all means ask for it. There are very serious consequences for "misunderstandings" during the requisite negotiation (of limits), and one way to earn the Dom's confidence is to ask him if he'll allow a phone call somewhere in the middle of the negotiation. That tells the Dom that although you're a novice, you're no fool either. Ask one of your friends to call you at a specific time during the negotiation, and tell the Dom that you've taken this precaution. It doesn't have to be more than you answer, say everything's fine, and hang up. Or, if everything isn't fine, convey that via some code word. It's a sad, terrible truth, but there are some guys out there that would take advantage of a novice, despite that act being the absolute opposite of what the Bd/Sm life is all about. Any Bd/Sm Master will only be impressed with your earnestness pursuit. If you need more information about anything, you may send me a private message, and I'll do my best to answer. And, heartfelt congratulations on taking this initial step. The Bd/Sm life can be more rewarding than you can possibly imagine, when the foundation is built on rock.

Please be gentle - I am not a native English-speaker. This is my first time posting a story. It is fiction, but very close to what I experienced myself today.... The morning meeting had been a drag, a blur of spreadsheets and forced smiles in a sterile conference room an hour from home. You were driving back, the highway a monotonous ribbon of gray, your mind already on the afternoon you'd have to spend catching up on work. Then you saw it. The green sign for the rest area. A place you knew from online forums, a spot whispered about in certain circles. The thought was a spark in the dry tinder of your boredom. It was just after noon. Guys on their lunch breaks. The chance was too good to pass up. You signaled, pulling off the highway and onto the cracked asphalt of the parking lot. You sat in your car for a moment, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. You needed courage. You pulled the small brown bottle from your pocket, unscrewed the cap, and brought it to your nostril. One deep, long hit. The chemical rush flooded your head, a warm wave washing away your anxiety and replacing it with a gnawing, confident lust. Now you were ready. You left your car and walked into the trees, your boots sinking softly into the damp ground. In a small clearing, four guys were standing around, a silent, tense circle of unspoken need. Nobody was touching, nobody was talking. It was a standoff. And then you saw him. He looked like an apprentice, maybe in a trade, with the confident, slightly bored swagger of a young man who knows he's good-looking. He had Mediterranean features—dark, slicked-back hair, deep brown eyes, and an undeniable bulge straining against his work jeans. He was the focal point, the reason for the gathering tension. You walked past them, your path bringing you within arm's reach of him. As you passed, you reached out, your hand confidently cupping his balls through his jeans, giving them a firm, knowing squeeze. He didn't flinch. He just turned his head, and your eyes met. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his lips. The invitation was accepted. Just then, an older, paunchy man, the kind who spent his lunches chasing a fantasy he could no longer catch, broke the stalemate. He gave a pleading look to the group and then scurried into a smaller, adjacent clearing. The apprentice followed him, his walk a confident stalk. The older guy didn't waste a second. He dropped his pants, exposing his pale, flaccid ass, and bent over, bracing himself against a tree. "Fuck me," he whimpered. "Please." The apprentice unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock. It was exactly as you'd imagined: thick, hard, and cut, the head a perfect, angry-looking dome, framed by a thick, neatly trimmed patch of dark pubic hair. There was no condom in sight, no mention of one. I would have offered one, but I was not planning for a lunch fuck and did not even bring one. He spat on his hand, lubed himself, and pressed it against the man's hole. He pushed, but the older guy cried out, his body tensing up. "It's too big! You're too big!" he whined. The apprentice grunted in frustration, shoving him aside. "Useless," he muttered, his cock still jutting out, hard and unsatisfied. You saw your chance. While he was dealing with the failed bottom, you stepped up to the older man, who was now looking lost and rejected. You knelt down and took his limp cock in your mouth, trying to coax some life into it. It was a distraction, a means to an end. The apprentice watched you for a moment, a smirk playing on his lips. He saw the older man's failure, and he saw your willingness. You were usually a bottom, but the energy in the air, the raw, primal need, made you feel bold. You stood up, your own cock now hard and demanding. "Let me try," you said, nodding towards the older man's ass. He shrugged, a gesture of permission. You stepped behind the older guy. Your cock was different. It was pierced with a heavy, 10mm tribal dream ring, a piece of metal that always got a reaction. You pressed the cool metal of your PA against his hole. It slipped in easily, a smooth, foreign object. But the moment the ring was inside, the older guy's ass clamped down like a vise. You couldn't get your swollen cock head in to follow. He was too tight, too panicked by the unfamiliar sensation. Frustrated, you pulled back. You looked at the apprentice, his magnificent cock still hard and glistening. "Want to fuck me instead?" you asked, your voice low and direct. His smile returned, wider this time. "Yeah," he said, his voice a low growl. You didn't need to be told twice. You turned around right there in the open space, not bothering with a tree for support. You let your pants fall to your ankles. The cold air hit your exposed skin, making you shiver. You pulled your Poppers back out and took another deep hit, the world dissolving into a warm, pulsing haze. Before you could even cap the bottle, you felt him behind you. He didn't wait. He didn't prep. He just grabbed your hips, his grip like iron, steadying you as he slammed his raw, thick cock into you in one brutal, satisfying stroke. The burn was immediate, but the Poppers turned it into pleasure. He started fucking you with an aggressive, short-stroked rhythm, a man on a mission. There was no finesse, only force. Each thrust drove the air from your lungs, your PA swinging wildly with the impact. You were just a hole for him to use, and the thought of it made you dizzy with lust. It wasn't a prolonged fuck; it was a lightning strike. He was clearly just looking for a quick release. After maybe twenty, thirty seconds of relentless pounding, his grip on your hips tightened painfully. "I'm cumming," he grunted, the words strained and urgent. "Shoot it all inside me!" you gasped, pushing back against him, wanting to absorb every drop. "Give me everything!" He let out a deep, guttural groan, and you felt it—the hot, powerful, pulsing warmth as he emptied himself inside you. He held himself deep, his body shuddering as he drained himself into your guts. He stayed there for a moment, his chest heaving against your back, then pulled out as abruptly as he'd entered. A sudden coldness hit your exposed, wet hole. You both quickly rearranged your clothes, the silence of the woods pressing in around you. You turned to face him. He was already zipping up his jeans, his face unreadable. He looked you straight in the eye. "You are healthy???" he asked, his voice casual, but the three question marks hung in the air, turning it into an accusation, a challenge. "Yes," you answered. It wasn't a lie. It was the truth. You were healthy. For now. He watched your face as you said it, a flicker of something in his dark eyes. Was it satisfaction? Triumph? Or was it just the simple relief of a guy who'd gotten what he wanted and was now covering his own bases? He gave a slow, knowing smile. "Good," he said. He didn't offer any information about himself. He didn't say "I'm clean too." He just nodded, as if you had passed a test, and then turned and walked away, disappearing back towards the parking lot without a backward glance. You stood there for a moment, your body trembling, his cum already starting to leak out of you and down your thigh. The drive back to work was a blur. The encounter played on a loop in your mind: the confidence in his eyes, the brutal force of his fucking, the heat of his load, and that one, pointed question. And a new, terrifying thought kept surfacing: Did those thirty seconds change my life? Now you're back home, the day finally over. You're lying naked on your bed, your hand stroking your hard cock. The memory is so vivid, so powerful. But it's the question that's consuming you. You are healthy??? Why the emphasis? He was so dominant, so unconcerned with anything but his own pleasure. Why did that one thing matter so much? And then a new, terrifying thought takes root, blossoming in your mind, dark and beautiful. What if he gets off on this? What if the question wasn't about safety; it was about eligibility. He wasn't asking if you were a safe place to fuck. He was asking if you were a worthy target. He wanted to know if you were negative, if your "yes" meant anything. Maybe he's a collector. Maybe he gets a thrill from pozzing neg guys, from turning another man, from adding another notch to his belt. Your honest answer, your "Yes," wasn't a reassurance for him. It was the green light. It was confirmation that you were a prize worth claiming. But then the other possibility, the logical one, pushes back. Maybe he was just a regular guy, a player who loved to fuck raw but was terrified of the consequences. Maybe he asked because he genuinely needed to know for his own peace of mind, a hypocritical but human act of self-preservation. Maybe his smile was just the cocky smirk of a young man who'd gotten away with exactly what he wanted. You can see it now so clearly. He wasn't just fucking you. He was converting you. Every powerful thrust was a hammer blow, forging a new reality. The heat of his load wasn't just cum; it was an inoculation. A gift. A curse. You were just another victim, another story he could tell himself. You moan, stroking your cock faster. The thought is so repulsive, so dangerous, and so unbelievably hot. You reach back and press two fingers into your still-slick hole. You pull them out, coated in his essence. You bring them to your lips, and this time, you don't just taste. You lick. You suck them clean, imagining the millions of potential viruses swarming in your mouth, in your blood. You're so close. You're right on the edge. You close your eyes and you can feel him inside you again, but now it's different. It's not just a memory. It's a transformation. Was that just an anonymous fuck on a Tuesday afternoon? Or was it the moment you were chosen? The moment you were changed? You'll never know for sure. You'll never see him again. You'll have to live with the uncertainty, with the three-month wait, with the gnawing, exhilarating possibility. And as your own cum explodes across your chest, hot and thick, you realize that this uncertainty is the ultimate prize. He didn't just fuck your ass—he fucked your brain. He gave you a gift that will last forever: the endless, thrilling question of what he really left behind.

I’ve been training Drew to take a deep throat face fucking and last night me and Steve fucked his throat. I put Drew on the bed on his back with his head hanging over the edge. Steve stood over him and slid his cock deep down Drew’s throat. I was behind Steve so I got a good view of Steve’s cock buried in my Boy’s throat and his balls on my Boy’s nose. I made sure Drew’s eyes were open and looking at me. As Steve was fucking Drew’s throat I urged Steve to shoot his load. He forced his cock in deep and pressed his balls on Drew’s nose and grunted. I could see Steve’s balls contract as they shot their load. Drew’s eyes bulged and I heard him swallow several times. Steve finished cumming and pulled out. I shoved my cock down Drew’s throat and started fucking him. I was horny as fuck and close. I loved the feeling of my helmet in his throat and my balls on his nose. I fired at least 5 strong jolts of sperm and my boy swallowed it all.

Hooked up last night with a 24yr swimme that had a beautiful 10" thick as wrist, don't know how he keeps it in a Speedo but that's something else lol He had an amazing stamina, started slow a passionate with a lot of kissing when till he asked permission to breed my hole. Such a gentleman 😉 I just pulled his ass cheeks closer and made sure it went in as deep as possible. when we chatted he mentioned he has to get up early so I assumed he was gonna leave right after but no, he stayed all night and dumped 6 more loads. sometimes he fucked me rough and wild calling me a cumdump faggot (which I am) some were gentle with a lot of passionate touch and intimacy. it was so much fun and we exchanged info before he left my hotel the next morning (after we showered together and he dumped one last load) unfortunately, this'll be my last load till I meet my partner again, he ordered me to stop taking loads since he wants me extra horny when we finally meet after 3 weeks, since my cock is still locked since we last met I am going to be climbing up the walls till he arrives (sometime in the next couple of days 😬, he's being mysterious)

Well I look at his from a different angle, not physical looks but character. my circle included an absolute asshole of a dude, I was not out, he was a straight gods gift type, bragged about abusing women, stole from employers, Bar fights etc.....but at a get together that ended in a rainstorm he offered the ride home, he asked to use my bathroom, he came out naked with a beautiful swinging 8" cock. Nothing was said, he sat down spread his legs and I gave the blowjob a cock like that deserved. He used me a couple times a month until he got on the wrong side of the wrong people and left town.

Thanks, jamobile. I worked with Max Sohl (Treasure Island's NYC producer) between 2004 and 2010 and appear in 6 DVD's. Doing porn was on my bucket list for years, and I enjoyed every one of the scenes. I now live in northern California, enjoy loads of sex, including Horse Markets in SF, Customer Appreciation Days at Mr. S Leather in SF, and lots of private sex parties. I'm polyamorous and have a husband as well as one serious partner. And I still am a total top, and I love breeding!

I’d rather have a good neighbor than another notch in my bedpost truth be told.

(As always my stories are true events with erotica added to make the readers unload their load in my name) I first noticed Corey when he moved in next door with his widowed mother about six months ago. He was in his late twenties, fresh off a contested divorce that his dramatic ex was turning into a full-blown spectacle—court dates, accusations flying, the works. As a landscaper, he had that sun-kissed, rugged look: tanned skin from hours outdoors, calloused hands, broad shoulders under his work tees, and a perpetual five-o'clock shadow that made my submissive gay bareback bottom side ache with need. I'd see him mowing the lawn or trimming hedges, sweat soaking his shirt, outlining those firm pecs and the V of his hips. He projected straight, but there was something in his lingering glances when I waved hello. One afternoon, he knocked on my door, looking stressed, a folder of divorce papers clutched in his fist. 'Hey, man,' he said, shifting awkwardly. 'You're the one who works in legal stuff, right? I heard around the neighborhood. Mind if I pick your brain? This shit with my ex is killing me—she's dragging it out, claiming I cheated or whatever bullshit to get more alimony.' I invited him in, pouring us coffees in my living room. As we sat, his eyes wandered to the walls—my collection of tasteful naked men art, sculpted bodies in oil and bronze, cocks and asses captured in raw, erotic poses. He didn't look away; instead, he leaned closer to one print, a guy bent over, hole exposed. 'These are... intense. You into that kind of thing? Like, art-wise?' I smiled, sensing the curiosity. 'Yeah, I'm gay. Been out forever. Love celebrating the male form—no shame in it.' He nodded slowly, asking questions that started innocent but got personal: How does it work dating guys? Ever been in a serious thing? What's the sex like? His cheeks flushed, but he didn't stop, and I answered openly, describing bareback hookups, the thrill of a thick cock breeding deep, submitting to a dominant top. By the time he left, papers annotated with my informal advice, there was a spark. He thanked me with a firm handshake, his grip lingering, eyes flicking to my crotch. A week later, his mom announced she was traveling for a full week to visit family. That evening, Corey texted— we'd exchanged numbers for divorce updates—inviting me over. 'Mom's gone. Beers? Could use more advice... and company.' My cock twitched at the opportunity. I showed up with a six-pack and a joint, dressed casual in shorts that hugged my ass. His place was modest, mom's taste in decor clashing with his landscaper tools in the garage. We cracked beers in the living room, the divorce talk flowing into lighter stuff. 'That art you have... got me thinking,' he admitted after his second beer. 'Never really explored that side. Ex was vanilla as hell.' I sparked the joint, passing it over. He inhaled deep, coughing, then relaxed, the weed loosening him up. 'Wanna see the hot tub out back?' he suggested, standing. 'Installed it myself last summer.' We stripped down—me first, peeling off my shirt and shorts, revealing my smooth, toned body and the jockstrap cupping my hardening dick. Corey watched, then shrugged off his clothes: faded tee, jeans dropping to show his thick thighs and that uncut cock swinging semi-hard between them, balls heavy and low. Fuck, he was built like a god, chest hair trailing down to his pubes. The hot tub bubbled invitingly under the stars. We sank in opposite each other, water jets massaging our skin, beers on the edge. Conversation turned flirty fast—the weed making us bold. My foot brushed his under the water; he didn't move it. 'So, that gay lifestyle... you submit a lot?' he asked, voice husky. 'All the way,' I replied, shifting closer. 'Love a guy taking charge, fucking my ass raw, breeding me full.' His cock visibly stiffened below the surface. I reached over, hand grazing his thigh. 'You ever tried it?' He shook his head but leaned in. Our lips met—tentative at first, then hungry. His tongue invaded my mouth, tasting of beer and smoke. Hands roamed: mine to his chest, pinching nipples; his to my ass, squeezing cheeks. 'Fuck this,' he growled, standing, water sluicing off his ripped body, cock now rock-hard, eight inches of veiny meat throbbing. I dropped to my knees in the tub, water lapping at my chest, and engulfed his dick. Lips stretching around the girth, I sucked deep, tongue lapping the foreskin back to swirl his leaking slit. He groaned, fingers tangling in my hair, thrusting into my throat. 'Shit, yeah... swallow that cock.' Saliva dripped as he face-fucked me, balls smacking my chin, gagging me until tears welled. 'Need your hole,' he panted, pulling out. I turned, hands on the tub rim, ass arched high. He spat on my pucker, fingers probing—first one, then two, twisting to open me. 'Tight... gonna ruin this.' His cockhead nudged my entrance, then shoved in raw. The burn was exquisite as he sank balls-deep, pubes grinding my cheeks. He pounded relentlessly, water splashing with each slam. 'Take my dick, you bottom slut.' Hands bruising my hips, he railed my ass, prostate hammered until pre leaked from my untouched cock. 'Gonna breed you first load.' 'Yes! Fill me!' I begged. He buried deep, cock pulsing, hot cum erupting inside—spurt after thick spurt coating my guts. He thrust through it, churning until it leaked out around his shaft. We moved inside, dripping on the floor, grabbing fresh beers and another joint. On the couch, naked and buzzed, his dick stirred again against my leg. 'Round two,' I whispered, lying back, legs spread wide, cum-slick hole winking. He mounted me missionary, sliding in easy on his own seed. Chest to chest, he fucked slow then hard, pinning my arms, mouth claiming mine. 'This ass is mine tonight.' Sweat slicked our bodies as he hammered, balls slapping. 'Second breeding coming...' 'Pump it in!' My hole clenched, milking him as he unloaded again, cum overflowing, mixing with the first load. I shot untouched, ropes hitting my abs. We crashed, dozing, but an hour later, he hardened once more. On all fours now, I presented, ass up. He took me doggy, gripping my shoulders, slamming deep. 'Third time's the charm—gonna flood you.' His pace brutal, hand jerking my cock. We came together—his torrent gushing out, my load on the cushions. Exhausted, plugged with his cum, we lay tangled. 'That was insane,' he murmured. 'Mom's back soon, but... we should do this again.' Three days later, another text: 'Buddy Spencer over—work partner. Told him about you. Come for drinks? He's curious too.' Spencer, Corey's married landscaper pal, early thirties, built like a tank with a buzzcut and tattoos, had been sex-starved with his wife for months. I arrived to them on the patio, beers flowing, joint lit. Corey grinned, eyes hungry; Spencer eyed me appraisingly, his cargo shorts tenting. We smoked, buzz hitting, clothes coming off casual-like. Corey's hot tub again, all three sinking in naked. Cocks bobbed: Corey's familiar thick uncut, Spencer's girthy cut nine-incher, veiny and curved. 'Heard you're a pro bottom,' Spencer said, voice rough. 'Wife ain't putting out—need this.' I knelt between them in the water, hands stroking both shafts. Corey's in my mouth first, sucking deep while jerking Spencer. They groaned, hips bucking. 'Share him,' Corey said. I alternated—deepthroating Spencer, his balls hairy and musky, then Corey, foreskin sliding. 'Tag team that ass,' Spencer growled. I bent over the tub edge, Corey entering first, fucking my cum-stretched hole with wet slaps. Spencer fed me his cock, face-fucking as Corey railed. 'Suck while he breeds you.' Corey unloaded quick, adding to the mess inside me. Spencer took over, his thicker dick stretching wider, pounding deep. 'Fuck, sloppy from his load—gonna add mine.' Water churned as he hammered, hands spreading my cheeks. I moaned around nothing now, Corey watching, stroking himself hard again. Spencer came with a grunt, flooding me further, cum bubbling out. They switched—Corey back in, churning the double load, while I blew Spencer clean. 'Your turn to breed again,' I begged Corey. He did, third load for him mixing with Spencer's. Inside now, on the living room rug, they spit-roasted me proper. Spencer in my ass, Corey in my mouth, thrusting in sync. 'Gangbang this hole,' Spencer said, slapping my cheeks. Sweat poured, bodies slapping loud. Spencer pulled out, Corey dove in, then back—trading my ass like a toy, each dumping loads until I overflowed, cum dripping down my thighs. Finally, both knelt, jerking over my face as I fingered my wrecked hole. 'Open up.' Ropes of cum painted my tongue, chest—swallowing what I could. Exhausted, we collapsed, their cocks soft against me. 'Best night ever,' Spencer admitted. Corey nodded. 'More where that came from.' My ass throbbed, bred multiple times by two studs—submissive heaven.

A little over 30 years ago, I made the decision to let anyone who wanted to fuck me, to do so. And it was 20 ago that I embraced bareback sex and within weeks after that, started to let guys cum in me. I’m still hiv neg as of 11/17/25. I did end up with neurosyphilis which gave me some vision problems, now mostly resolved, but if I had to do again, I would. The only difference is I would have tested more. Once you start, you’ll know soon enough if this your place to be in life. Never have regrets. For me, it’s been the right choice. The only regret is I’ll be stopping soon as I’m in my late 50s and figured I’ll have stopped by 60-62.

"I really shouldn't get out of bed and offer myself to Chad ..." But we will all be disappointed if you don't!!!

I started giving head to my uncle when I was 9

I've used the similar "grommet" plugs from Fort Troff and never felt sluttier than wearing it. My Daddy at the time loved how easy and open it made me. Also, most of the guys who saw it were very excited to see inside before they mounted. 11/10, highly recommend.