Leaderboard

Thanks for all your comments! So here's the next part of the journey. Hope you enjoy.... Part 4: The Biohazard Archives: Poz Stories and Porn The calm lasts for the rest of the night. It's a lie, of course, but a comforting one. You sleep soundly, the secret in the freezer a cold, quiet anchor. But the next morning, the lie shatters. You're making coffee. You open the freezer. The condom is still there, but that's all it is. A memory, a pathetic little trophy frozen in time. A toxic bomb, now defused and dead. The risk is gone. Without its poison, it's just a sad piece of rubber. The magic is gone. And in that moment, you realize the chilling, undeniable truth: the memory is not enough. The fantasy is not enough. The hunger is a demand, not a request. And a demand cannot be satisfied by watching. It has to be hunted. You sit back down at your laptop. The screen's glow is a sterile comfort in the dark room. You don't go to the usual apps, the ones filled with "safe" men and "normal" hookups. You go to a search engine and type in the words that have been echoing in your mind. You find a place called Breeding Zone. It's a forum, a digital promised land, and you click through the warning page without a second thought. Creating the profile feels like a clandestine act. The username is a string of random letters and numbers, untraceable. For the avatar, you don't use a picture of your face or your body. You use a close-up, macro shot of your PA ring—the heavy, 00g tribal dream circle of steel. It's a signal. A flag. And then you are in. The forum titles hit you like a physical blow. They aren't coded in polite euphemisms; they are raw, honest, and terrifyingly familiar. My First Pozzing Story. Toxic Load in a Public Toilet. Neg Bottom Looking for My First Gift. A wave of relief so powerful it makes you dizzy, washes over you. You're not a monster hiding in the shadows. You're home. These are your people. They speak your language. They understand the hunger, the need, the dark, beautiful thrill of the chase. This becomes your ritual for the next weeks. Every night, you would return to the same story, the multi-part epic called "Sleazy Sauna." The thread is massive with hundreds of thousands of views. You start reading, your heart hammering against your ribs. From the first sentence, you are not just reading; you are remembering. You are the narrator. You are the safe, middle-aged neg guy walking into that run-down sauna, the smell of damp and chlorine in the air. You feel the eyes of Sid, the old, skinny regular, on you, the thrill of his directness as he compliments your tattoos and casually asks, "Want to fuck?" And then you get to the line that makes you stop and re-read, your breath catching in your throat. When the narrator – when you - ask about a condom, Sid just keeps fucking and says, "I hate the things. Haven’t used them since I was diagnosed." At first, the word doesn't fully land. Diagnosed. It hangs in the air, a clinical, sterile word in the middle of this filthy, intimate act. And then it clicks. This isn't just some old man who prefers to fuck bare. This is a poz man who is planning to plant his toxic seed in your ass without a single thought or care as to whether you are neg or not. For a normal, safe guy, that moment should be a full-stop, a siren blaring, a reason to scream and run. It should be the definition of disturbing. But you can feel it happening to you—the shock, the fear, and the overwhelming, horned-up decision to just go along with it, to let the risk wash over you because the feeling is too good to stop. But it's the second part of the story that truly destroys you. You are again the narrator, having been tested negative and handed a get-out-of-jail-free card. And yet, you are back at the sauna, your heart pounding, your hole twitching with a need you can't explain. You hear Bill at the counter warn the you, "We've a few more in today - couple of guys I 'ain't seen for a while 'cos they've been sick. They don't take meds so their immune system is fucked." You're hard instantly, stroking yourself as you read. You are in that dark room, being pulled between two unseen bodies. You know, with a sick certainty, that these are them. These are the two toxic trolls Bill warned you about, the ones with the highly charged, untreated loads. You are the one sandwiched between them, crying with shame and depravity, feeling the ultimate surrender as you push back and squeeze your hole around their thrusting cocks, eager to milk more poz cum from them and get yourself knocked up. The words on the screen get you close, but they aren't enough to finish you. You need the visuals. You need the sounds. You minimize the forum and open the video file. You find the clip. It opens on a scene of profound intimacy. A bottom is on his back, his legs thrown up in the air, surrendering completely. A top is above him, moving inside him with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Their connection is palpable, a quiet dance of flesh that feels more like a shared prayer than a simple fuck. The gentle, rhythmic slap of skin is the only sound besides their soft moans. Then, the top’s voice cuts through the quiet, a low murmur now laced with a sudden, sharp tension. "I think it broke." And in that moment, you are the bottom. A jolt of pure ice-water panic floods your veins. This wasn't supposed to happen. This was supposed to be safe. Your mind races, screaming at you to push him off, to stop this right now. But your body betrays you. The slow, hypnotic rhythm doesn't stop, and the pleasure is too exquisite, too all-consuming. The fear is there, a sharp edge, but it's dulled by the overwhelming sensation. The top's words were a quiet confession, but to you, they are a test. He needs you to make the choice. The bottom’s response is a choked whimper of pure, unadulterated need, his back arching to meet each deep, steady thrust. "Fuck me anyway. I don't care." You understand that whimper. It's the sound of reason shattering. It's the moment the fear begins to curdle into something else—something dark and thrilling. Your hand is on your own cock, stroking in time with the slow, hypnotic rhythm on the screen. "Do you want me to pull out when I cum?" the top asks, his voice a strained whisper. He's offering one final escape, one last chance for safety. "Of course not," the bottom moans, his voice thick with unwavering desire, pulling him in closer, a silent refusal to let him escape. "But I'm positive," the top says, his voice a quiet, final warning. He's laid all his cards on the table. The risk is now real. It has a name. "I don't care," the bottom breathes. "I want your seed so bad. I want your shit... so fucking good!" That's it. That's the moment of total surrender. The fear doesn't just fade; it transforms into a desperate, all-consuming craving. The thought of his charged load, of his poz seed, is no longer a danger. It's the prize. It's what you want. They continue, the sound of a poppers cap being unscrewed cutting through the heavy breathing. The camera is locked in a single, unchanging POV. You see nothing but the top's cock, now sheathed in the tattered, broken latex, as it slowly sinks into the bottom's ass, then just as slowly withdraws. You don't see their faces. You are the bottom, feeling that broken rubber dragging against your rim with every slow, deliberate stroke. Then, a new sound. A deep sniff. The sound makes your own hand tremble with anticipation. You fumble for your own bottle, unscrewing the cap and bringing it to your nostril, timing your own sharp, desperate inhalation to perfectly match the one you are hearing through the laptop speakers. The rush hits you, a warm wave washing over you, dissolving the last of your resistance. The fear is gone, replaced by a blissful, open hunger. Your mind is no longer thinking about risk; it's focused only on the feeling, on the need to be filled, to be bred. Your head swims, your vision blurs at the edges, and your own moaning grows louder, more guttural, mingling with the sounds from the video until you can't tell where you end and the screen begins. The cock on screen never stops its slow, deliberate motion. Then, another sniff, this time from the top. You hear it, and without hesitation, you take another hit yourself, your body in perfect sync with the men you can only hear. The second rush deepens the hunger, solidifies it into a single, burning purpose. "Yeah, give me your seed," the bottom begs, his voice cracking with emotion. "Give me that fucking charged load, yeah, cum in me deep." You feel the words in your own throat. You want to beg for it, too. "Yeah, I'm gonna knock you up," the top growls, his rhythm finally beginning to speed up. "Cum as deep as you can," the bottom cries out. The top grunts, his body tensing as he unloads. He pulls out, and the camera holds on the bottom's gaping, red hole. A single, thick, perfect drop of white cum wells up and drips down. The sight of that charged drop, the sound of those words, amplified by the poppers flooding your system, is the guaranteed trigger. You cum, a huge, explosive load that shoots all over your chest and face, a desperate, solitary offering. You slump back in your chair, panting. You look down at your new jogging pants. Another load soaking into the fabric. They're stiffening with dried cum, becoming a beloved cumrag, a physical testament to how deep you're being drawn in. It was a powerful, intense orgasm, but as the waves of pleasure recede, you're still staring at the screen. The forum is just a collection of words. The clip is just pixels. And you are still alone in your apartment, your pants stiffening with another load. The relief is temporary. The hunger is permanent.

Thursday was the hottest and scariest experience I’ve ever done. I chatted with a straight guy who wanted to fuck me. He is only available early mornings. So I waited till 5 am to be awake for him. While my family are asleep. The guy arrived and I met him outside briefly and quickly led him into the backyard. I snuck him in the house through the backyard sliding door. While my parent were asleep in their rooms and my brother across from my room. We walked quietly and led him into my room. I shut the door and we both stripped naked and I sucked him deeply. He let me sniff some poppers. I ate his ass out like he demanded. Finally he fucked me hard on my bed. I was nervous of making too much noises. My bed kept on making a lot of noise. But thankfully no one woke up. But I heard my cat waking up in my brother room. We hurried and got dressed and led him out . Before my brother woke up to let the cat outside. I heard my brother took the cat out right when I went to bed. 😂 This is my actually my third experience of letting a stranger coming in my house while my family are deep asleep.

**This is a work of fantasy and fiction. Any similarity to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. Nothing in this work should be construed as medical advice in any way** Chapter 3: Zero for 135 All during the drive home from Palm Springs, even when traffic slowed to its inevitable crawl once he hit West Covina, Dr. Matthew’s head was spinning…he had taken about 18 certifiable, unmedicated and toxic loads up his hole the day before, including 4 from his mentor, Dr. Dan Martinelli. Were there a few moments when he said to himself “What have you done?” Definitely there were…but then the voice in his head reassured him that this is what he wanted, he got into that sling willingly and his own cock shot multiple loads of cum while the poz guys gang-banged him, and later while Martinelli bred him 4 times with his poz seed. It was his destiny and he didn’t want to deny it any longer. So any doubts in his mind were doused and he knew he was on the right path to becoming part of the brotherhood. As an infection disease doctor, he also knew poz conversion from fucking was still relatively unlikely and it’s highly unusual to turn poz from just one night. Yeah, he would wait for the “fuck flu” to hit in a few weeks but he wasn’t confident it would hit, not yet,anyway – so he wasn’t confident, but was hopeful. No, the only way to ensure his getting over the line and seeing 2 red lines on a test strip was to keep taking poz loads. And he knew just who he should speak to about that. Arriving early at the office on Monday morning, Matthew poured some coffee for himself and waited for Keith to arrive. He had sent a text on Sunday afternoon asking Keith to come in a few minutes early as there was something he wanted to mention to him. “Hey, Doc,” Keith greeted him, breezing in and ready to work as always, his ultra-confident manner and eagerness to start a new work week always impressed his employer, Dr Matthew. Keith was looking especially hot this morning in his tight blue scrubs and with the lower part of his radioactive symbol tattoo peeking out under his sleeve. “How was your weekend, Doctor?” the nurse asked, settling in the chair on the other side of Matthew’s desk and sipping his coffee. “I wanted to tell you something, Keith”, the doctor started hesitantly. “It’s not a work thing, it’s more of a personal thing,” he said, shifting in his chair. Keith could sense the young idealistic Doctor was uncomfortable. “I went to Palm Springs,” he began, “specifically the men’s club over in Cathedral City. I enjoyed myself more than I ever have before, and I took about 18 loads of poz cum, including 4 from Dr. Martinelli.” He had blurted out the words, not stopping to gauge his listener’s reaction or thinking about the appropriateness of telling an employee this information. “Oh, yeah, Dan called me Sunday morning,” Keith said, a sly smile “welcome to the chase!” Dr Matthew looked up with a start. He was surprised that even Keith and Dan Martinelli knew each other, but as he thought about it, he realized ‘of course, they are part of the poz brotherhood that has sprung up.’ “What did he say, specifically?” was all the young doctor could utter as he processed this information. “Just that you’re on the chase now, and he helped you out. He said I should aim to help you as well, if you’d be into that…unless it would be awkward since I work for you.” Still kind of reeling from this info, Dr Matthew simply said “Yeah, it’s probably best we don’t mix work and pleasure like that, Keith. But maybe you can put me in the path of some of your poz buddies who can help me out.” And that is how, two nights later, Dr. Matthew had an “appointment” with a friend of Keith’s, a burly Scottish man named Angus who pozzed up himself about three years ago from Randy, a founding member of The Ten. Angus had just earned his first X tattoo and was looking for more conversions from his potent HIV cum. Angus volunteered to be the dedicated gifter to young Dr. Matthew for 6 weeks, and for those weeks they met two or three times per week, every time Angus loading up the young chasing doctor with high-viral seed. Dr Matthew, being the somewhat obsessive person he was, kept a “pozzing spreadsheet” and by the end of the 6 weeks, it showed Angus has deposited 45 loads of HIV into Matthew’s mancunt. Most of their sessions began the same way: Matthew would prep his hole and come over to Angus’ apartment and assume the doggy position, which Angus favored. Frequently, a toothbrush was used to scratch up Matthew’s pretty little hole and then Angus would unleash his uncut poz weapon inside the young chaser’s ass. It was more clinical than anything romantic but still Matthew’s neg cock would spurt forth a couple of loads of cum as Angus’ thick uncut poz pole plundered the young doctor’s neg mancunt. Angus, like all of The Ten, was a proven poz multi-cummer and one fuck per night simply wouldn’t do, and in a few minutes the burly Scot would be back up the young doctors pussy to inseminate more toxic seed. And it went on like this for those 6 weeks, yet Dr. Matthew still had no signs of the fuck flu he was all too familiar in seeing in others. For all of Angus’s efforts, his strain did not imprint inside Matthew’s body. Matthew figured it would happen, but even after 45 loads of infected Scottish seed, the deed had not been done…in terms of poz results vs poz loads taken, he was now 0 for 63. He admitted to himself a bit of discouragement. Every home test would only display one red line, never two. Angus had to travel to the UK at the end of September, so Keith set Matthew up with a new dedicated donor: Mack, or “Sir Mack,” as his social media accounts proclaimed was a dominant black Daddy type, originally from Trinidad, who had been pozzing chasers in Miami for years now, with a great track record, Sir Mack and his 10-inch pierced pozzing stick had brought over 30 guys into the brotherhood, an effort dedicated with 3 dark X’s inked across his mid-section, as well as a biohazard symbol on each arm and a scorpion with a bloody red stinger emblazoned across his chest. Mack threw a mean fuck into whoever’s hole was in front of him, and as with all members of The Ten, he could cum buckets, and repeatedly in a single pozzing session. Mack had decamped to California for a few weeks to film content…his fan pages were wildly popular, with thousands of guys subscribing to see Mack roughly plow faceless bottoms into poz status. Sir Mack, therefore, eagerly accepted the gig from Keith to poz up the young doctor…he had a particular fixation on infecting medical professionals and turning them into poz cumdumps and gifters. He counted 8 nurses, 3 physical therapists, 4 respiratory therapists, 2 psychologists among his poz progeny, all of whom have further passed the gift to countless others. Now he would get a Medical Doctor, and an HIV specialist at that, to breed and gift into the brotherhood, and he could hardly wait. Keith warned Dr. Matthew that as hot and sexy as Angus was, Sir Mack throws an entirely different fuck into a bottom – Mack is rough and dominant and when he wants to fuck and breed his HIV into someone, nothing stops him. “You’re basically just a hole when you’re in Sir Mack’s vicinity, Doc,” was what Keith told the young HIV chasing doctor. “He threw me around like a ragdoll when we fucked, so brace yourself. You’ll love it, but it’s a wild ride.” As he drove to Sir Mack’s rental house, Matthew was nervous but excited. He would have been happy if Angus had ended up his pozfather, but since that didn’t happen, he was eager for Mack to convert him. Matthew had decided he wanted to know his gifter, the man who would shoot his HIV into his hole and turn the chaser in him into the newest member of the Class of 2025 poz brotherhood. As much as he had liked the Cathedral City gangbang from Frankie and Co., he wanted a deep connection to his gifter, to know the strain that pozzed him. Would it be Sir Mack? His hole twitched in anticipation. He was also expecting a dominant Daddy-type to do to him what Keith described – throw him around like a ragdoll. So, imaging his surprise when Sir Mack opened the door and greeted Matthew with a deep kiss and hug. Whereas Angus would greet Matthew fully naked and hard, ready to AIDS-fuck, Mack greeted him at the door fully clothed and, in fact, wearing an apron, and embraced him deeply followed by a tender kiss. “What was happening,” Matthew thought to himself? “I thought I’d make you some dinner, since you’ll be here awhile,” Mack explained, walking into the kitchen and stirring a large pot bubbling on the stove. “Of course, we’ll eat after we take care of business,” Mack said, turning back to Matthew and smiling a 1000-watt smile at him. “There’s some wine there,” he said, pointing to an opened bottle of red. “Help yourself.” “You look a little stunned, Matthew,?” Mack asked. “It’s just that I think I expected a different sort of welcome,” the young doctor replied, “I had heard you would be very rough.” Mack chuckled “Oh, that’s just my fan content stuff…gotta maintain the stereotype. When you look like me, guys expect a certain scene. Did Keith tell you that? Yeah, I fucked Keith a few times on the fan page…that was ‘content,’ this is different. This is more real, just you and me. If I’m gonna be your poz Daddy, I think we need to establish more of a connection, don’t you?” Matthew was relieved to hear this and his hole twitched some more. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get those clothes off and get into bed,” Mack told the young doctor “I’ll be up in a minute,” he said, switching off the stove burner and moving the pot into the oven. Matthew did as instructed, got into bed and was fingering his twitching hole, his cock expanding as he heard Mack’s footsteps on the stairs. “Leave your hole to me,” Mack said, seeing Matthew fingering it. And with that, Mack gently turned Matthew onto his stomach, hiked up his legs and ass and ate out the young doctor’s negative pussy for about 10 minutes. Matthew was in ecstasy at this – Angus almost never rimmed him, or for very long, and Mack’s caring treatment of Matthew’s hole had him so relaxed and open, like no one had ever done prior. “You’re ready,” Mack finally announced and Matthew felt the first of Mack’s 10 thick inches penetrate his waiting cunt. “Little bit at first, I have wanted in this pussy for a long time, I want to take my time right now,” Mack told him as Matthew braced himself for the remainder of the pierced HIV club Mack was pressing into him. At Mack’s command, he breathed deeply and Mack used that to slide the rest of the fat AIDS-cock into the young, impressionable doctor. He was in up to the hilt now. Typical of all The Ten, Mack’s cock was precumming like crazy, already spreading his HIV into the young doctor. Slowly, Mack began to piston it in and out of the hole, Matthew writhing in pleasure and moaning into the pillow. Mack took his left arm and brought the young doctor up close to him…”Feel that cock in there, Matthew? It’s bringing you right into the poz brotherhood,” he said repeatedly as he picked up his pace and soon was plunging the poz weapon deep inside the young physician. This went on for awhile, longer than Frankie, or Dr. Martinelli or Angus ever lasted up inside Matthew’s neg mancunt, but Mack was having too much fun and pleasure to want to stop now and the deep drilling continued for another 15 minutes without a break, the young doctor squirming and moaning in pleasure. Finally, the moment came for Mack to impregnate Matthew with this viral load and as usual with Mack, it was a gusher – Matthew, in his daze, could feel 11 or 12 shots of pure venom unloaded into him from the powerful Trinidadian Daddy, but honestly it could have been more than that, he was in such bliss knowing this titan of a man was loading him up with pure poz seed. Mack shuddered and thrust his cock deeper, as if to get every drop of HIV into the young doctor and then finally withdrew and rolled Matthew over onto his back and beside him. “We’ll go again in a few minutes,” he said “You know, I’m good for at least 3 more loads, and you’ll be getting them, and then we can eat,” he said, passing Matthew a glass of water. “Stay hydrated and hold that seed in your hole, Doctor. I’ll be adding more shortly.” The process went on for another 3 hours, as Mack would deeply rim the gaping hole, tasting some of his own AIDS-cum and bringing it up to Matthew to sample as well. Then, more deep and prolonged fucking and loading up the doctor’s hole, which by the fourth plundering of the evening, was blown out into an O shape, HIV-cum clinging to the walls. Mack thrust a lucite dildo up into the hole and told Matthew to keep it there. They finally went down to eat and drink some more wine, Matthew was spinning out in his head at the thought of Mack’s potent seed already possibly doing it’s work on his body, penetrating its defenses and converting the chaser into a successful poz brother. And this was what happened every few nights for the entirety of the 6 weeks that Mack was staying in Los Angeles. By Matthew’s spreadsheet, he had received 72 loads of Mack’s AIDS-seed, so imagine the disappointment at every home test showing only the one line of negativity and not the two red lines of beautiful HIV positivity. Eventually, Mack’s short-term lease was up – in addition to his working to poz Matthew, he had filmed dozens of hard-driving fuck scenes with scores of guys for his content pages, so it was finally time for him to return home to Miami. There was an emotional scene at the LAX departures lobby as Matthew wept softly into Sir Mack’s broad shoulders at not converting by him, but Mack reassured the young doctor. “Do not worry, son, it will happen, and when it does we will celebrate,” and with that, he was through security and out of sight in the crush of the airport. Matthew pulled out his phone to look at the spreadsheet…by Matthew’s calculations, this meant 135 loads of cum, from the gangbang in Cathedral City, from his mentor Dr. Martinelli, from Angus and now from Sir Mack had failed to upgrade Dr. Matthew into the poz brotherhood. Class of 2025 might have to wait until Class of 2026! He knew what he had to do: He dialed Keith’s number. End of Chapter 3

Today I was in Jefferson City Missouri for some easy repair work so I jump on sniffies and I’ve got it running in the background and I jump on periodically looking for what ever catches my eye. I wasn’t sure if I was in a bottoming mood or a topping mood. Anyway I happen to see a few miles away on the map that there was this 33 year old muscle hairy top with a nice 8” cock. The kind that has a huge bulbous head on the end. So I shoot him a message and wait and o go back to work. A few min later I check and he had replied and we exchange some pics and at this point I’m wanting to bottom for this alpha top. So I finish my work and I run to the gas station to clean out in the bathroom. I shoot him a message and say I’m cleaned out and I have an hour that I can take for lunch and he said he could host so he shoots me the address and we get there at about the same time bur he welcomes me in and he is fucking hot short hair and muscular as hell. I could see he was fit even through his button up shirt. So he asked if I wanted a drink or something and I said naw and that I’d like to get right to it so he leads me back to his bedroom and we strip and I fall to my knees and suck his cock and I’m doing my best to deep throat him but that head was so big I could barley fit it in my mouth. But he gets rock hard and I ask him where he wants me and he said what ever is more comfortable for me and I say doggy. He asks me if I’d like some poppers and I’m like yeah I’ll try some. So I take a few hits and my head is swimming and he starts eating my ass and he stands up and starts rubbing some lube on my ass and flipping his cock head up and down on my hole and he asks “do you have a preference where you want my cum to go” and I said “I’d prefer if you put it deep inside me” so he starts pressing in and my ass tries to open but it hurt a lot so he said “ I’m going to work your hole open with my fingers for a bit” and I believe he put in two and he was nice and gentle. So I take a couple more hits of poppers and hold my breath and my head is thumping while he presses slowly into my ass and finally gets it in and we hold it there and I take another hit of poppers as he starts to fuck me and I look to the side and I see a full length mirror and I can see this muscular hairy alpha top getting balls deep in my pale ass and he asks “are you ok with going multiple rounds?” And I’m like “yeah we got time” so he fucks me like that for a while and he gets super hard and pumps my ass hard and shoots his first load. He pulls out and I ask him to grab a pic and he does and I stand up and I can few his load running down my leg and he goes and washes off and comes back and I suck his cock and I can taste his cum on the top lip of his cock and he gets hard again and I lay on my back and he sucks my cock for a little bit but I can’t get hard so he tries to put it back in but he goes limp and I apologize and say I’m nervous and he said yeah it’s always like that on the first meeting so we head to the bathroom and I wipe a few times and he washes off and he walks back into his bedroom and I come maybe 20 second later and he is putting some stuff away and I fall to my knees again and start sucking his cock and he gets rock hard again and has me get on my back and he slides in and he starts pounding and I start begging him for his load and he lets loose again and floods me a second time. I had him get another pic but you couldn’t see the cum just my red swollen hole. So we head back to the bathroom and chitchat again and I get dressed and thank him for the two loads and tel him I’ll hit him up next time I’m in town. So I head to my next job and complete it and it’s probably an hour later and I go to the bathroom and push out a massive load and 30 seconds later push out a glob more. My hole is throbbing right now and I can’t wait to go another round with him.

Smashed some face down, ass up bussy on my way to work this morning. I was load #6. Felt good to drain my morning wood into a cummy ass.

It is rare but sometimes I feel him pulsating. It is also hit or miss if it leaks out. A real bottom craves the load. I honestly think it’s a hormonal reaction or something but that’s a different topic. If you just want to get fucked to feel what it’s like you are probably not bottom.

I don't know the exact number but there were about 15 guys there. I was the only cock sucker, not all came in my mouth, some gave me facials, it was amazing. Did a small group yesterday, sucked off 4 guys, swallowed 2, facials from 2. Great way to end the weekend.

I met a biracial 40 year old daddy top last night and he hosted. We’ve been talking in bbrt for a couple of days and decided to meet so he can breed me multiple times. We talked about doing long session so we cleared our afternoon schedule just to fuck. I got to his place at 2pm and I didn’t leave until 9pm. In that 7hrs, we fucked and I got bred 10 times. We had breaks and talked inbetween but as soon as we got horny, we were back at it again. He enjoyed fucking me on all fours so he can watch my bubble butt jiggle and I enjoyed backing my ass towards his incoming cock. The bed was shaking and creaking all afternoon. By the 8th load, I can feel my hole leaking of cum and running down my ass. I wanted to keep his loads in me when I sleep but something was itching to come out of my ass. I dumped almost all the cum and I felt sad. We are meeting again next saturday, and this vers daddy is joining us for a threesome.

Chapter 4: The Christmas Stocking Paul Carter lay on his back in the narrow bed, phone balanced against his chest, the screen casting a soft bluish glow across the ceiling. Snow drifted across the tiny frame of the movie playing—one of those saccharine Christmas romances he’d clicked on without thinking, the kind that promised warmth and happy endings even when the world outside felt thin and cold. Onscreen, two men stood in a flurry of lights and music, breathless and smiling, the argument finally over. They ran toward each other through falling snow, laughter breaking through tears, arms wrapping tight like they were afraid the other might vanish if they didn’t hold on hard enough. Paul sniffed, embarrassed by the sound, and scrubbed at his nose with the heel of his palm. “Shut up,” he muttered to himself, even though the room was empty. He told himself it was the alcohol, the storm, the long night—anything but the tight ache building in his chest as the couple kissed and the music swelled. He locked the phone and tossed it onto the mattress beside him before the credits could roll. The screen lit again almost immediately as his messages opened, the familiar thread already at the top. He hadn’t meant to open it. His thumb just… knew where to go. The breakup text stared back at him, cruel in its simplicity. No explanation worth anything. No apology. Just blunt words and an even blunter dismissal. Paul’s jaw tightened as he scrolled, the memory crashing back uninvited—the night before, the way he’d tried so hard to be everything the other guy wanted, how eager he’d been to please, to prove he was worth staying for. Hell, he even let the guy bareback him, crawling on his knees and begging him. And then the next morning came. The text. You weren’t that good. I’ve already moved on. Don’t message me again. Paul swallowed hard, his throat burning. He hated how much that still hurt. Hated that it made him feel stupid, small, disposable. He locked the phone again, dropping it face-down this time like it might bite him if he looked too long. “Not tonight,” he whispered, forcing the words out like a promise. He stared at the ceiling, listening to the storm batter the house, the wind whining along the eaves like something lost and angry. Somewhere below him, the frat house creaked and shifted, settling into the cold. Laughter drifted faintly from downstairs, muffled now, distant enough to feel unreal. Paul rolled onto his side, curling slightly, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. He told himself he just needed distraction—anything to keep his thoughts from circling back to the same bruised places. Something loud. Something physical. Something that didn’t ask him to feel wanted or loved. Just something that made him feel anything else. He reached for his phone again, screen lighting his face in the dark as the storm outside howled on. Paul stared at the glowing screen for a long moment before unlocking it again. The house felt too quiet up here, the laughter from downstairs fading into something distant and hollow. He needed noise. Motion. Anything to drown out the thoughts pressing in on him. He didn’t open the movie back up. Instead, his thumb drifted through apps without much thought, muscle memory guiding him somewhere familiar and mindless. Images of men fucking in different positions and acts loaded—too bright, too sharp against the darkness of his room—and he felt his shoulders loosen just a little as his focus narrowed. This, at least, didn’t ask him to feel hopeful. It didn’t promise happy endings or soft confessions in falling snow. It was simpler than that. Paul exhaled slowly, letting his head sink back into the pillow. He told himself it was just about distraction, about shutting his brain up for a while. About not thinking of text messages or mornings-after or how easy it had been for someone to decide he wasn’t worth keeping. He spit on his hand, and slowly pulled his boxers down, before effortlessly shoving two fingers into his still puffy and abused hole. The alcohol helped. It softened the edges of everything, made the room feel warmer than it was. His thoughts drifted lazily instead of spiraling, and he let himself sink into the sensation of it—into the idea of not having to be careful, not having to anticipate what someone else wanted from him. He picked out a fisting video and watched as the top commanded the muscular guy to get into the stirrups and the scene shifted. The guy was now dripping and stretched as the top pulled a massive black dildo out of his ass, and quickly replaced it with his black gloved first. The guy groaned as the top spit in his mouth, calling him a good boy. He swallowed, adding another finger while admitting something quietly to himself that he rarely said out loud: it was easier to want things when he was a little drunk. Easier to imagine letting go. Easier to pretend, just for a few minutes, that being wanted like this could be uncomplicated. His phone slipped from his hand onto the bed as he closed his eyes briefly, breathing through the haze, focusing on the sensation of his battered hole being stretched open again as he mentally put himself in the place of the bottom guy.. The storm outside surged again, wind rattling the window like impatient fingers, but he barely noticed. His attention had turned inward, wrapped around thoughts he usually pushed away during the day. He wasn’t thinking about love. He wasn’t thinking about relationships. He was thinking about control—or the lack of it. About how nice it might feel to stop making decisions altogether. To stop bracing himself for rejection. To let something else take over, even if only for a moment. The thought unsettled him enough that he opened his eyes again, heart thudding a little faster. He shifted on the bed, restless now, and reached for his phone once more, scrolling without really seeing what passed beneath his thumb. “Just… calm down,” he murmured to himself, voice low and shaky. A sudden knock at his door made him flinch hard, phone slipping from his fingers and bouncing against the mattress. Paul sucked in a sharp breath, pulse racing. “Yeah?” he called, scrambling to sit up, pulling his pants up and wiping his hand on the sheets in a panic. “Who is it?” The silence that followed felt heavier than it should have. The silence stretched just long enough for Paul to wonder if he’d imagined the knock. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the mattress creaking softly beneath him, and cleared his throat. “Hello?” he called again, louder this time. “Who is it?” The handle turned. Derek leaned into the doorway with an easy smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The hall light framed him in a thin yellow outline, making the rest of him look oddly dim, like the shadows clung too closely to his shoulders. He looked relaxed—almost loose—swaying faintly as if he’d had one drink too many. “Hey Paul,” Derek said. “You… busy?” Paul blinked. “Uh. Just… sleeping?” He pulled the covers closer around himself, then frowned. “What’s up?” Derek’s gaze drifted past him into the room, unfocused, as if he were looking at something that wasn’t there. “Need a hand downstairs,” he said after a beat. “Kitchen stuff. Noah was sleepwalking in there and I need to get him back to bed. It’ll just take a minute.” The way he said Paul’s name—Paul, not Porkchop—made Paul pause. Derek almost never used it. The familiarity felt wrong in his mouth, too deliberate. Paul opened his mouth to comment on it, then hesitated. Derek was older. Vice President. Noah’s cousin. If he needed help, it was probably easier just to go. “Yeah. Okay,” Paul said slowly. “Give me a sec.” Derek nodded once, already turning away. His footsteps retreated down the hall without waiting for an answer. Paul sat there for a moment, heart thudding, trying to shake the strange feeling crawling up his spine. He grabbed his phone and flicked on the flashlight, the narrow beam cutting a clean path through the dark as he stood. The house felt cooler than before, the warmth from earlier draining away like someone had cracked a window somewhere. He followed Derek down the stairs, the beam bobbing slightly with each step. The living room was empty now, couches abandoned, the TV a black mirror reflecting nothing. The storm outside pressed against the walls, wind moaning through the frame like it was searching for a way in. At the bottom of the stairs, Paul slowed. The basement door stood ajar—just a few inches—breathing out a thin ribbon of cold air that raised goosebumps along his arms. It smelled damp, metallic, and faintly chemical, like old pipes and something sharper layered beneath. “Derek?” Paul called, uneasy. “Where’s Noah? Were you able to get him to wake up?” Derek stood near the kitchen threshold, back to him. He turned slowly, smile still fixed in place, eyes glassy and distant. For a split second, Paul thought he saw something dark flicker behind Derek’s reflection in the microwave door. He took a step forward. Something warm and wet struck his face without warning. Paul gasped as the sensation spread—slick, clinging, burning faintly as it seeped across his skin. His flashlight clattered to the floor, the beam spinning wildly as dizziness slammed into him. The world tilted violently, his stomach lurching as heat surged through his chest and down his limbs. “Oh—shit—” he tried to say, but the words tangled and fell apart. It felt like inhaling something impossibly strong, like his head had been dunked into a haze that stripped his thoughts down to their softest edges. His knees buckled. The floor rushed up to meet him. As he collapsed onto the kitchen tile, vision swimming, Paul managed to look up one last time. Derek loomed over him, swaying gently, smile widening just a fraction too much. Then a shape moved behind him—tall, broad, impossibly dark—and strong arms lifted Paul from the floor as if he weighed nothing at all. The last thing Paul saw before the fog swallowed him completely was the kitchen filling with silhouettes that did not belong in any house built by human hands. --- Paul came back to himself in fragments. First the cold—tile pressing against his back, leeching heat from his skin. Then the smell: old beer, something metallic, and beneath it all a faint, acrid sharpness that made the back of his throat prickle. His eyes fluttered open, vision swimming, the ceiling light above him reduced to a dull halo. He was on the kitchen table. That realization arrived slowly, accompanied by the distant clatter of a bottle being set down somewhere nearby. His clothes were gone—when that registered, a weak rush of embarrassment flickered through him, dulled almost immediately by the lingering haze in his head. Panic tried to rise, but it met resistance, like it was pushing through syrup. He swallowed hard. “D-Derek…?” The name came out thin, barely audible. Figures stood around him. At first, his brain insisted they were frat brothers—tall silhouettes, broad shoulders—but the illusion fractured as his vision steadied. These weren’t people. Their bodies were too large, too symmetrical, their movements too fluid and deliberate. Skin the color of wet ink caught the low light, glossy and smooth like polished rubber stretched tight over muscle. Horns rose from their heads in sweeping curves and jagged points, casting warped shadows across the cabinets and walls. Paul’s breath hitched. His mouth opened, then closed again, soundless. His thoughts skidded uselessly, failing to form a coherent response to what he was seeing. One of the figures stepped closer, looming at his side. The air seemed to thicken with its presence, pressing down on his chest. Another followed, then another, until the kitchen felt impossibly crowded, as if the walls had crept inward. A voice echoed—not through the air, but inside his head, reverberating with layered depth. “Patch.” The name struck like a bell. One of the creatures responded immediately, shifting forward with calm assurance. He was broader than the others, posture relaxed but unmistakably dominant, as if this space already belonged to him. Paul felt the weight of that attention settle over him, pinning him in place more effectively than any physical restraint. Patch tilted his head, studying Paul with open curiosity. A low chuckle rolled from him, the sound vibrating through the table beneath Paul’s back. “You already know what you like,” the voice murmured—heard and felt at once, threaded directly through Paul’s thoughts. “You just don’t like admitting it.” Paul’s chest rose and fell too quickly. He tried to speak, to protest, but only a thin, broken sound escaped him. Hands—large, careful, impossibly strong—adjusted his position, arranging him with unsettling familiarity. Paul’s gaze drifted helplessly to the edges of the room, where more of them stood watching. Some held bottles of beer, tipping them back casually, dark eyes never leaving him. Others were smoking cigars, the ends glowing in the dark. A sudden, dizzying realization cut through the fog. Derek stood among them. And Noah. Both smoking a cigar and drinking a beer. They leaned close, faces calm, almost gentle, eyes reflecting something Paul didn’t recognize anymore. Derek met his gaze and smiled—not cruelly, not kindly, but with the certainty of someone who had already crossed a line and wasn’t looking back. “Relax,” Derek whispered. “It’s easier if you do.” Noah nodded in agreement. “We did. And man, it feels fucking amazing.” The words hollowed Paul out. His fear faltered, replaced by a strange, aching confusion. If they were standing there—if they were like this—then whatever was happening to him wasn’t chaos. It was a process. Patch’s attention returned to him fully. A massive hand settled against Paul’s hip, not rough, not gentle—simply inevitable. “This one’s been waiting,” Patch said, tone almost conversational. “Even upstairs, he was waiting.” Paul squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head weakly. “Please… don’t hurt me.” A presence brushed against his mind—vast, patient, impossibly heavy. The Alpha. Even without seeing him clearly, Paul felt that authority settle over his thoughts, smoothing his panic, reshaping it into something quieter and more malleable. “You want this,” the Alpha’s voice echoed softly within him. “You asked for it in ways you don’t yet understand.” Paul’s breath stuttered. Memories surfaced unbidden—loneliness, longing, the desire to be taken seriously, to be wanted without conditions. The fog thickened, wrapping those thoughts in warmth until resistance felt pointless. Patch leaned closer, his shadow swallowing Paul’s torso. “We’ll take care of you,” he murmured. “Just let go.” Paul didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His thoughts drifted apart, pulled gently but relentlessly toward the dark certainty pressing in around him. The kitchen lights flickered for a brief second before blinking off again. And whatever Paul Carter had been clinging to began to slip away. Patch did not rush. That was the first thing Paul noticed—dimly, through the haze pressing against his thoughts. Where the others moved with a predatory stillness, Patch moved with patience, like someone following a familiar set of steps. The kitchen felt less like a room now and more like a prepared space, every surface humming with a low, almost inaudible resonance. Patch’s attention stayed fixed on Paul as if nothing else existed. The others receded to the edges of Paul’s awareness—present, watching, but no longer the focus. Even Derek and Noah seemed to fade slightly, their shapes blurring as Patch’s presence sharpened. “You don’t have to fight,” Patch said, voice threading directly into Paul’s mind. It wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. “Your friends already learned what happens when you do.” Paul swallowed, throat dry. His fear had not vanished, but it had thinned, stretched out into something softer and more uncertain. He felt exposed—not just physically, but emotionally, like every private thought he’d tried to bury upstairs had been pulled into the open. Patch’s hand traced a slow line along Paul’s side, not touching skin so much as skimming the air just above it. Wherever that attention passed, warmth bloomed, dulling the cold and sending a strange, calming heaviness through Paul’s limbs. “You want to be full,” Patch continued, almost gently. “You want to stop holding yourself together.” Paul shook his head weakly, though the denial felt automatic, unconvincing. His thoughts drifted back to the bed upstairs—the movie, the messages, the ache he hadn’t known how to name. The Alpha’s presence brushed against those memories, turning them over, reframing them. “You sought release,” the Alpha murmured, distant but unmistakable. “Patch will show you how.” The room seemed to tighten around that statement. Patch leaned closer, his shadow falling across Paul’s chest, and Paul felt the weight of attention settle over him completely. Something in Patch’s demeanor changed—not more aggressive, but more focused, like a craftsman beginning his work. Hands guided Paul’s posture, adjusting him with careful precision. Paul’s muscles wanted to tense, to resist—but the warmth spreading through him made it hard to remember why he should. Each movement felt inevitable, as though his body understood what his mind was still struggling to accept. “Breathe,” Patch instructed. Paul did. Shallow at first, then deeper, drawn along by the steady cadence of Patch’s voice. With every breath, the edges of his panic softened further. The kitchen sounds—the storm outside, the distant creak of the house—faded into a dull background hum. Patch’s attention pressed inward, not just on Paul’s body but on his thoughts, nudging them open. Images surfaced unbidden: being seen, being chosen, being used for something specific and purposeful. The loneliness that had gnawed at him upstairs twisted into something else entirely—a yearning to be shaped, to be told exactly what he was for. “You like being opened up,” Patch said, not accusing, not mocking—simply stating a truth as he understood it. “You like when someone knows you better than you know yourself.” Paul’s breath hitched. His denial caught in his throat and dissolved before it could form words. Derek and Noah leaned closer again, their voices soft, familiar. “It’s okay,” Derek murmured. “This part’s hard, but it doesn’t last.” “You’ll feel better after,” Noah added, eyes bright with something unreadable. “We did. It feels so fucking good.” Paul’s gaze flicked between them, confusion and a fragile hope tangling together. If they could stand there—changed, calm—then maybe what was happening to him wasn’t just destruction. Maybe it was becoming. Patch felt the shift immediately. A low, satisfied sound vibrated through him. “There,” he said. “That’s it.” The Alpha’s presence pressed down once more, sealing the moment. “Begin.” Patch moved with certainty then, initiating the ritual in earnest. Paul watched as his boxers were ripped away, and with a loud wet sound, a glob of whatever had hit his face suddenly impacted his battered hole, dripping and slightly burning as hit got into the small tears in the flesh. He felt as his hole immediately relaxed, like it had the night before when the guy had him huffing poppers and riding his cock. He watched as Patch’s hands went into the same shape as the fisting top’s did in the video and suddenly was pushing deep inside him, twisting and pushing, his ass burning as he choked out a startled gasp. He felt as Patch’s fingers began to spread out and stretch him further, tears streaming down his face as he felt like he was tearing in half, his hole impossibly stretched to accommodate the abuse when he felt it. Patch pushed in and with an audible plop his massive fist suddenly slammed deep inside him, his asshole clenching in response as he tried to let out a loud screaming sob, only to be stopped by Noah and Derek holding him down and clamping their strangely too strong hands down on his mouth. Each smiling as they deeply inhaled their cigars. Paul’s thoughts fractured under the pressure—not shattering all at once, but peeling away in layers. Fear bled into sensation. Sensation into acceptance. Acceptance into something dangerously close to need. He gasped, gripping the edge of the table as the room seemed to tilt around him. The warmth inside him flared, spreading, reshaping him from the inside out. He felt smaller somehow—lighter—like he was being hollowed out to make room for something else. Suddenly, Patch stepped closer and shoved his monstrous dick in beside his hand. Paul sobbed, his mind reeling from the pain as his asshole felt like he was giving birth. Patch easily began to fuck his ass, drolling more saliva into his ass as he began to fuck his hand inside of Paul. Suddenly, he felt as Patch shuddered forward, and a burning sensation began to spread through his guts, the pain suddenly giving into deep pleasure as he felt his legs begin to quiver. Patch quickly pulled out and began to shove his arm deep inside of Paul, who was now panting and shaking, feeling as his body began to relax and surrender, until suddenly he looked down and saw Patch’s fist pushing upwards, deep inside him and making his stomach bulge obscenely. He swore he could feel the sharp claws on the fingers scratching his insides, as more and more pleasure flooded him and made him groan. WIthout warning, Patch devoured his leaking cock whole, and after a few quick sucks, Paul began to shoot without warning, feeling as his ass tried pitifully to clench down on the forearm burning deeply in his ruined guts. Patch continued to nurse on his cock until he finally finished coming and pulled out his fist with a loud wet plop. He stayed close, steady, guiding him through it. “Good,” he murmured. “Let it happen.” And despite everything—despite the cold table, the watching figures, the impossible reality pressing in—Paul felt himself letting go. The change in the room was immediate. Paul felt it before he understood it—like the air itself had thickened, pressing inward, drawing every sound and movement into a single, heavy focus. Patch slowed, his motions easing to a deliberate stillness, head lowering a fraction in deference. Around them, the other figures shifted subtly, attention snapping toward the same point. The Alpha had moved closer. Paul didn’t see him at first. He felt him—an immense gravity settling across his thoughts, steady and inescapable. The warmth coiling through Paul’s body deepened, no longer frantic or disorienting, but purposeful, as if something inside him had finally found the rhythm it wanted. “Enough,” the Alpha’s voice murmured, resonant and calm. Not a command shouted across the room— a certainty placed gently into Paul’s mind. Patch withdrew his hands and stepped aside without hesitation. Paul’s chest rose and fell too quickly. His thoughts drifted, then snagged on the Alpha’s presence like fabric on a hook. Every instinct he had left screamed that this was the moment he should fight harder—but the scream faded, smoothed over by the steady pressure pressing against him. The Alpha came fully into view. He was larger than the others by far, horns sweeping upward in ornate, impossible curves. His form radiated heat and authority, the faint glow beneath his skin pulsing in time with the low hum vibrating through the room. When his gaze settled on Paul, it felt less like being looked at and more like being measured. “You are afraid,” the Alpha said—not unkindly. “And you want it anyway.” Paul swallowed. The truth of it landed with startling clarity. His fear was still there, coiled tight in his chest—but beneath it lay something heavier, older. A longing he hadn’t known how to name upstairs, alone in his bed, staring at a phone that never gave him what he wanted. “I didn’t mean—” Paul started, then faltered as the Alpha’s presence brushed his thoughts aside. “Intent is not required,” the Alpha replied. “Desire is.” Paul’s breath shuddered. His resistance, already worn thin, finally tore. He felt it happen—felt something inside him loosen and slip free, drifting toward the Alpha’s steady pull. Images surfaced unbidden: himself empty of doubt, shaped with purpose, no longer bracing for rejection or disappointment. No longer waiting to be chosen—already claimed. Him being reshaped and perfected. “I…” His voice cracked, barely more than a breath. “I just don’t want to be alone anymore.” The Alpha’s attention softened—not gentler, but more precise. “Then you will not be.” A massive hand settled against Paul’s chest, radiating heat that sank straight into his bones. His body arched instinctively beneath the touch, not from pain but from recognition, as if this contact completed a circuit that had been waiting to close. Patch watched closely, satisfaction evident even in stillness. Derek and Noah leaned in, eyes bright, reverent. The Alpha’s voice filled Paul’s mind completely now. “Let go of what you were.” “There is nothing left for you there.” Paul’s thoughts unraveled at the edges, memories losing their sharpness—faces blurring, words losing meaning. The ache that had followed him for months from rejection after rejection dissolved into a warm, spreading certainty. “Yes,” he whispered, surprising himself with how easily the word came. “Okay.” The Alpha’s presence enveloped him fully, sealing that choice in place. “Good,” the voice murmured. “Then we will finish.” The room pulsed once, like a living thing drawing breath. He watched and held his legs up, waiting as his new master stepped forward and with one simple push, buried itself deep inside him and began to fuck him hard and fast. And Paul surrendered to it. The Alpha let out a growl and began to cum deep inside him, flooding his tattered and ruined guts with its black foul cum. Paul could feel as it flooded his body, his mind rolling in pleasure as thoughts of being chained up in a sling, countless men flooding his guts and working the loads deep inside his ass with both hands up to the shoulder. His mind shifted and he was being walked around with a chain around his neck, letting men piss and cum inside his gaping ass, held open by a metal ring. Mindlessly thanking the men as he felt his precum dribble out of the cockcage around his locked up meat. The moment Paul gave in, the room seemed to exhale. He began to cum uncontrollably, covering his chest and stomach with rope after rope of cum, watching as each of his new brothers, Noah and Derek included, descended upon him, feasting on his still fresh and untainted cum, his body almost seeming desperate to rid itself of the nourishing liquid to give way for his body to start making its own tainted cum. The pressure that had been bearing down on him did not vanish—but it changed. Where it had once crushed and disoriented, it now settled into something colder and steadier, like chains locking into place. The Alpha withdrew his hand, not because Paul was free, but because the work had been done. Derek stepped forward and placed a mostly smoked cigar in his mouth, mentally telling him to suck hard and deep on it, that it would make him feel even better. Paul’s breathing slowed, his virgin lungs sucking in and absorbing the thick smoke as his body began to subtly change. He lifted his legs up and held his gaping ass open and begged each of his new brothers, including the two newest ones, Derek and Noah, to shoot their tainted loads inside him, smiling happily as each one shot inside the gaping crater of his ass. His thoughts, once frantic and spiraling, dulled into a heavy calm. Memories of upstairs—the movie, the bed, the ache in his chest—felt distant, like scenes from a life he’d watched rather than lived. He tried to summon the sharpness of fear again and found only a faint echo. Patch straightened, satisfied. “It’s set,” he rumbled, the words carrying weight beyond language. “He’s already begun to change.” The Alpha regarded Paul for a long moment, eyes unreadable, presence immense. Then, with a subtle nod, he stepped back into the shadows. The other figures followed his lead, retreating slightly, their attention loosening now that the ritual’s core was complete. Paul sagged where he lay, exhaustion rolling through him in deep, irresistible waves. His body felt warm, heavy, and strangely right, as though something inside him had been rearranged into a shape it preferred. He realized—dimly—that he wasn’t afraid anymore. He, too, would grow massive horns, his body losing all its fat and instead covered in massive muscles and skin black. That realization should have terrified him. Instead, it brought relief. The Alpha knelt briefly beside him, tilting Paul’s head with a firm but careful hand. “Rest now,” he said. “You’ll wake when you’re ready to spread our gift. Relax and let the changes happen.” The words sank deep. Darkness folded in, thick and quiet, carrying with it the faint hum of something alive beneath his skin. Paul’s last conscious thought slipped away as easily as breath: I won’t be alone anymore.

@Pozzible I also enjoy reading Nifty…. Sometimes I am just in the mood for those stories I hope you will let us know when you post it and what name we should be looking for good luck with your project!

Chapter 5: Cum Dempsey Zach Dempsey woke with that dull, insistent pressure low in his abdomen—the kind that dragged him out of sleep before his brain had time to catch up. For a few seconds, he lay there staring at the ceiling, disoriented, listening to the wind scrape against the house. The storm sounded farther away than before, muted, like the snow had swallowed more than just noise. He groaned quietly and rolled onto his side, pushing himself upright. The room felt colder than it should have, the air stale and unmoving. His phone lay dark on the nightstand, useless. Somewhere downstairs, something hissed softly—static, maybe, or an old appliance cycling on. “Great,” he muttered. He swung his legs out of bed and padded across the room, pushing open the bathroom door with a practiced hand. As the light flicked on, he felt a small, irrational wave of gratitude wash over him. At least this was his. Being fraternity secretary came with exactly two perks: endless emails and meeting notes—and the room upgrade. His own bathroom. No waiting in line. No mystery puddles. No drunk pledges fumbling with the lock at three in the morning. At the time, it had felt like a joke reward. Right now, half-asleep and uncomfortable, it felt like a blessing. He took care of business quickly, shoulders slumping as the tension eased. For a moment, everything felt normal again—just another night holed up in the frat house during a snowstorm, too much beer, too many movies. As he washed his hands, he caught his reflection in the mirror. He looked tired. Pale. His eyes lingered on himself a second longer than usual, a faint prickle of unease crawling up his spine for reasons he couldn’t quite place. The light flickered. Zach frowned. “Seriously?” It steadied again, but the feeling didn’t go away. He shut the bathroom light off and stepped back into his room, the hallway beyond dim and unevenly lit, faint pulses of light flickering at the edges like the house couldn’t decide whether it wanted power or not. As he headed toward the stairs, the quiet hit him again. Phi Alpha Gamma was never this still. Halfway down, he paused. The sound was clearer now—not just static. A low, irregular crackle from the living room, like a television tuned to nothing. He frowned. Someone must’ve fallen asleep downstairs again. Or forgotten to shut something off. Rubbing his face, blinking hard to clear the fog from his eyes, Zach continued down. The living room came into view, dim and strange. The Christmas tree lights blinked erratically, some glowing steady, others flickering like they were struggling to stay lit. The TV was on. Pure static filled the screen, bathing the room in a harsh, sickly glow. Zach stepped fully into the living room, unease creeping up his spine. “Guys?” he called softly, though he already knew no one would answer. The static crackled louder. As he reached toward the TV to shut it off, a sudden chill swept across the back of his neck—sharp and intimate, like someone had leaned close and exhaled. Zach froze. Slowly, heart beginning to thud, he started to turn around— And then something wet and burning struck his face. The impact stole his breath. Whatever hit Zach’s face was thick and warm, splattering across his eyes and mouth with a sharp, chemical sting that burned before it numbed. He cried out, the sound choking off as his vision blurred instantly, the world smearing into light and shadow. “What the—” He staggered backward, hands flying up to wipe his face, but the sensation only spread. Heat surged through his chest, rushed down his arms and legs like something flooding his bloodstream all at once. His knees buckled. The living room tilted violently. Zach stumbled, heel catching on the edge of the rug, and crashed hard into the Christmas tree beside the TV. Ornaments shattered against the floor, glass popping and crunching under his weight as branches snapped and lights tangled around his shoulders. The static from the TV roared louder, drowning out his panicked breathing. He tried to push himself upright. His arms didn’t listen. The heat deepened, heavy and suffocating now, wrapping his thoughts in cotton. His head swam, pressure building behind his eyes as if someone were squeezing his skull from the inside. The last thing he registered clearly was the tree lights blinking erratically above him, red and green smearing together into a nauseating blur. Then his legs gave out completely. Zach slumped sideways, sliding down the broken tree and onto the floor. His cheek pressed against cold hardwood. The static softened into a distant hiss, like waves pulling back from shore. As darkness closed in, he had one disjointed thought— This doesn’t make any sense. And then everything went black. Zach surfaced slowly, like something being dragged up through deep water. At first, there was only sensation—an all-over ache, sharp in some places, dull in others. His skin burned faintly, as if scraped raw, and the air felt too thick in his lungs. When he tried to swallow, his throat protested, dry and sore. His eyes fluttered open. Light stabbed at them immediately, harsh and flickering. He groaned and squeezed them shut again, waiting for the dizziness to pass. When he dared open them once more, the living room came back into focus in warped fragments: the overturned Christmas tree, broken ornaments scattered like ice across the floor, the TV still glowing with static. He was on his back. That realization landed with a jolt. He tried to sit up—and froze. Something was wrong. The air felt wrong against his skin. Too open. Too exposed. Panic flared as he looked down and saw that he was naked, his body marked with thin scratches that crisscrossed his chest, arms, and legs. They stung sharply now, as if freshly irritated, and each breath made them burn a little more. “What…?” His voice came out hoarse, barely more than a whisper. A shadow fell over him. Zach’s heart slammed against his ribs as he forced his gaze upward. A figure stood above him—tall, impossibly broad, its skin pitch-black and gleaming as though polished. Long, demonic horns curved from its head, framing a face pulled into a slow, predatory smile. When it breathed, Zach could hear it clearly—deep, wet, deliberate. A name slid into his mind without warning, not spoken aloud but placed there, heavy and unavoidable. “Pixel.” Zach gasped, clutching at the floor as another wave of dizziness rolled through him. The figure leaned closer, studying him with open amusement. Then it spat again. The saliva struck his chest and face, seeping instantly into the scratches. The pain flared white-hot—then softened, spreading warmth through his limbs and fog through his thoughts. His head buzzed, the edges of reality blurring as the TV’s static glow pulsed brighter. His fear dulled, replaced by a thick, sluggish confusion. Pixel watched him carefully as the effects took hold, its grin widening. Zach tried to form a thought—run, scream, fight—but the words slid away before he could grab them. His muscles felt heavy, uncooperative, as though his body had already decided something his mind hadn’t caught up to yet. The static hissed. The lights flickered. And Pixel reached down, fingers closing around Zach’s shoulder with terrifying ease, pulling him upright into a seated position. Zach’s head lolled slightly as he tried to stay conscious, tried to understand. His vision swam—and then he saw them. Figures standing nearby. Zach’s vision wavered, then slowly sharpened. At first, he thought he was hallucinating—his brain scrambling to make sense of shadows and light. The static from the TV cast a pale, stuttering glow across the living room, illuminating figures standing just beyond him. Tall ones. Massive ones. Black and muscular in an unnatural way. And then— Familiar ones. His breath caught. Derek stood near the couch, posture relaxed, head slightly tilted, watching Zach with an expression that might once have been concern. Noah was beside him, closer to the Christmas tree, his gaze unfocused but calm. Evan hovered near the edge of the room, skin pale, shoulders slumped, a faint, acrid smell clinging to him that Zach didn’t want to think too hard about. They were all naked. They were all smiling. Not wide, manic smiles—but soft ones. Content. Reassuring. As if this was normal. As if Zach was the one who didn’t belong. “Guys?” Zach tried, his voice weak and unsteady. “What… what’s going on?” No one answered him out loud. Instead, Pixel shifted closer, its presence blotting out part of the static glow. Behind it, more of the horned figures stood in a loose circle, their bodies gleaming in the flicker of the lights. They didn’t rush. They didn’t grab him. They simply waited. Derek knelt first. The motion was smooth, deliberate. Noah followed, then Evan, each of them lowering themselves in front of one of the towering figures without hesitation. Their movements weren’t frantic or forced—they were practiced. Familiar. Zach’s stomach twisted. “What are you doing?” he whispered. Derek glanced back at him briefly, eyes bright with something Zach didn’t recognize anymore. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “You just haven’t gotten there yet.” The words sent a chill through Zach that had nothing to do with the cold. Pixel’s grip tightened slightly on his shoulder, grounding him in place as his head swam again. The room felt heavier, the air thick with a pressure that pressed inward from all sides. The Alpha’s presence brushed against Zach’s thoughts—not fully there yet, but close enough to feel like a shadow passing behind his eyes. You see them, a voice murmured faintly in his mind. You see what waits for you. Zach shook his head weakly, tears pricking at his eyes. “No. No, I don’t—this isn’t real.” Pixel leaned closer, its smile widening as it loomed over him. The scratches on Zach’s skin burned again, pulsing in time with the static’s hiss. “This is the part where you watch,” Pixel seemed to say—not aloud, but somewhere deeper, where words weren’t necessary. The other figures continued their ritual movements. He watched in horror as each of his friends, all straight as far as he knew before this night began to hungrily suck on each of the monster’s cocks, jacking their own cocks in time to fucking their mouths. Zach squeezed his eyes shut, heart hammering. He didn’t want to see. Didn’t want to understand. But the Alpha’s presence pressed closer, forcing awareness back into him, prying his eyes open against his will. You will witness, the Alpha whispered. So that you know what you are becoming. Zach sobbed, the sound small and broken, as the circle closed around him. And for the first time since waking up, he understood with terrifying clarity— He wasn’t here by accident. The pressure in the room intensified. Zach felt it settle behind his eyes first—a slow, invasive weight that made his vision pulse and dim at the edges. Pixel’s hand tightened at the back of his neck, fingers spreading like a brace, keeping him upright as his thoughts began to slip. Then the Alpha arrived. It did not step forward so much as enter him. The presence filled Zach’s mind completely, blotting out the static, the room, even his own breathing. The voice that followed was vast and calm, layered with something ancient and patient. You are the next to receive our gift. Zach gasped, clutching uselessly at Pixel’s arm. “No—please—” His words tangled and fell apart before they reached his lips. His tongue felt thick, uncooperative. The Alpha pressed deeper. The living room dissolved. Images slammed into Zach’s mind—too vivid, too sharp to be memories, too intimate to be dreams. He saw Derek first: the moment his resistance broke, the instant fear gave way to acceptance. Then Noah, then Evan, each vision unfolding relentlessly, one after another. Each transformation lingered. Each surrender was felt. Zach sobbed, shaking his head, but the Alpha did not relent. The images intensified, forcing him to witness every step—every hesitation, every rationalization, every final moment where they stopped fighting. You watched them leave you behind, the Alpha murmured. Now you will understand why. Pain flared behind Zach’s eyes—not physical exactly, but deep and disorienting, like his thoughts were being stretched too far. He cried out, the sound breaking as Pixel forced his attention forward again. Pixel grabbed his head and slowly grabbed his massive, inky black cock and began to jack himself, clawed hands wrapping around the throbbing veiny dick as his massive balls swung almost hypnotically. Zach was unable to look away, almost feeling at times hypnotized by the motions. With a sudden growl, he felt and saw as the corrupted black cum shot powerfully at him, splattering across his skin and into his eyes, feeling as the cuts and his eyes began to burn with an intense fire, followed by an almost soothing sensation, his mind reeling and stuttering as he tried to blink the foul liquid away. The Alpha’s voice cut through everything. Submit, or I will show you more. Zach’s breathing came in short, panicked bursts. “Stop,” he pleaded. “I can’t—please—” The pressure increased. The visions returned, harsher now. Not just his friends—but himself. Reflections of what he could become, what he would be shaped into if he resisted. Endless repetition. Endless awareness. Zach screamed. Or rather, he tried to. The sound tore free of him, raw and helpless. It came out instead like a tiny screech. Tears streamed down his face as his mind buckled under the strain. He felt himself sliding—fear unraveling into desperation, desperation into a frantic need for it to just end. “I’ll—” His voice broke completely. “I’ll do it. I’ll—just make it stop.” The Alpha’s presence stilled. For the first time since it had entered his mind, the pressure eased—just enough to let him breathe. Good, the voice said, satisfied. Now you see. Allow it to happen. The room rushed back into focus around him, but it no longer felt solid. Everything seemed filtered, muted, like he was observing the world through thick glass. Pixel leaned closer, approval radiating from him. He slowly began to slide his large cock across his face, the skin rubbing more and more of the cum into the cuts, when he saw each of his corrupted friends sit up and begin to spit the foul cum in their mouths onto his face, each cut burning in a strangely comforting way as they began to jack off on his face and chest as well. He was shocked when each seemed to shoot their loads on him in unison, their cum looking less black, but still having a strange effect as it got into his eyes, Zach sagged, exhaustion crashing over him in heavy waves. His thoughts slowed, the sharp edges of fear blunted into something dull and pliable. The scratches on his skin burned faintly, then cooled, tingling in a way that felt wrong but strangely grounding. His jaw fell open, slack and relaxed as each frat brother dragged their cock across his face and shoved easily into his mouth. His mind felt surprised but not shocked when he opened even larger with an almost hunger to accommodate both Derek and his cousin Noah at the same time. The Alpha withdrew slightly, its presence lingering like an imprint. You will remember this, it told him. And you will not forget how it felt to give in. You will enjoy replaying it in your mind over and over once you join us. Zach’s head lolled forward, consciousness wavering. He didn’t know how long he remained like that—caught between awareness and collapse—but when his eyes fluttered shut again, it wasn’t from defiance. It was from surrender. Zach felt himself being moved before he realized he had stopped resisting. Hands guided him—firm, unyielding, but not rushed—positioning his body with an unsettling familiarity. His limbs responded sluggishly, like they belonged to someone else now. Each attempt to tense or pull away dissolved into weakness before it could take shape. Pixel remained close, anchoring him, while the Alpha’s presence expanded until it filled every corner of Zach’s awareness. You are fighting yourself now, the Alpha murmured. There is nothing left to protect. Just lay back and enjoy the show. Zach whimpered, shaking his head, but the pressure behind his eyes intensified. The scratches across his skin burned again, flaring hot, then cooling as something dark seeped inward. He could feel himself changing—not all at once, but in small, horrifying increments, like pieces of him being overwritten one by one. His vision wavered, and he almost was shocked at what he saw, almost like viewing himself from outside his body. Slowly getting up, sitting down on the couch, and letting Derek and Evan lift up each of his legs, as Evan held his head forward, aimed directly at the Alpha who was now stepping forward, massive dick drooling and aimed directly at his exposed asshole. Each of his frat brothers slowly massaged the black cum into his skin, each cut looking angry and almost infected, as faint black veins began to creep outward, his skin taking on a greyish pallor around each cut. Suddenly, his mind was pulled back into his body as he felt the Alpha suddenly slammed into his ass. He gasped loudly, feeling as his asshole surrendered to the brutal assault, his stomach bulging obscenely as the Alpha’s cock dug deep inside him, his mind almost laughing at how this looked like the chest burster scene from Alien. The Alpha suddenly placed its clawed hand on his stomach and pressed down before slamming its cock into his ass hard, with Zach groaning as he felt something tear open inside him, and a sudden flood of pleasure flooded inside his body. The room pulsed with low sound. Zach’s thoughts fragmented, each memory losing clarity as it was touched. His name still existed—but it felt less important now, less solid. The things he worried about before—grades, schedules, being responsible—floated away like static washed from the screen. Instead, his mind floated, watching in awe and a sick delight as he could see the massive cock twitching inside him, as the Alpha slowly dragged its claws down his chest and stomach, each line welling with small pinpricks of blood as he watched his skin take an even greyer appearance before his eyes, each detail now in even greater detail and focus. The Alpha pressed deeper into his mind as it pulled out of his ass with a wet plop and its infected seed dripped out of him. Images rose unbidden: Zach kneeling, eyes black and skin grey, waiting, watching others break the way he was breaking now. The threat of his own horns trying to breach out of the skin on his skull. The fear those images once inspired no longer held their edge. Instead, they felt instructional. Inevitable. Strangely beautiful. This is where you belong, the Alpha said calmly. This is what you are for. Zach’s breath hitched. A sob tore loose—but it didn’t carry resistance anymore. It was empty. Exhausted. The fight drained out of him completely, leaving behind a hollow, receptive quiet. Suddenly, the other creatures… his new brothers his mind suddenly told him, walked up and surrounded him as Pixel suddenly knelt down and took him deep in his mouth, the too-sharp teeth dragging on the thin skin of cock, each scrape feeling like a wave of pleasure as each creature suddenly began to shoot load after load on his skin. He suddenly felt the urge to rub each load deep into the cuts, enjoying as he felt them entering him, reshaping him in ways he’d never known were possible. Suddenly, he shot his load, watching with happiness as Pixel greedily gulped down the last remaining part of him no longer corrupted. He groaned and pulled Pixel’s head down harder on his cock as he felt several large clawed fingers deep inside him, milking his prostate and making him continue to cum. Something sealed shut inside him, locking the last part of himself away. He smiled, watching as his release finally slowed to a dribble as Pixel released his cock from his mouth before pulling Pixel up and locking lips with him, sucking the remains of his untainted cum off the forked tongue. The burning across his skin dulled, replaced by a heavy warmth that sank into his bones. His thoughts slowed to a crawl, then smoothed into something eerily peaceful. He stopped trying to understand. Stopped trying to remember. The Alpha lingered a moment longer, ensuring the change held. Good, it said. You see clearly now. Zach’s eyes fluttered, unfocused. His body sagged as if all the tension of his analytical mind that had once defined him had finally been released. In its place was only the satisfaction of being allowed to watch and enjoy the destruction of his friends around him. Pixel withdrew, satisfied. The circle loosened. Zach slumped back against the couch, breathing slow and even, expression blank and serene. Whatever had once made him Zach Dempsey receded into the background, muted and distant. The TV static cut out abruptly as it was shut off. The living room lights steadied. And Zach drifted into unconsciousness, the overwrite complete.

It doesn’t matter if you’re choking and gagging. Get used to it. Just keep your mouth open and let him use your throat until he’s drained his balls. I love watching Drew choke on my cock. Yeah he can’t breathe when my balls are blocking his nose and my sperm is filling his throat but he’s only gotta hold his breath for 20 seconds until I’ve shot my entire load.

great comment. very informative and balanced.

Yes I get that too! Men will sometimes refer to the last time they bred me and I honestly do not remember them. It has become very rare that I remember a face. I think the true mark of a cum dump is the lack of connection. We just exist to serve men.

it was 12, when I was 16 I snuck into a adult theater. I blew 8 guy in the theater and 4 out back of the theater

I had met him on BBRTS a year earlier. He lived about two hours away, but there weren't many men where I lived, and his profile piqued my interest. It said he was 30, versatile, and it provided two photographs of a sexy dude with a nice cock in bed. HIV status: ask me. I contacted him with my bugchasing profile. He was interested, but said he didn’t know his status, adding that he preferred not to know so that he wasn't culpable of pozzing guys. We talked off and on for a few months trading fantasies. A re-occurring fantasy of his was that of fucking drunk college boys from the large school in his town and pozzing their asses with unmedicated cum. At the time I was mostly just fantasizing. I had taken an undetectable poz load once or twice a year earlier, and honestly wasn’t sure about this guy, but I knew I wasn’t going to drive two hours to find out if he was legit. And if he was poz and unmedicated, I wasn’t ready for that either. I lost track of him after about a while. A year later I spot him online again and by chance I would be driving near his town, so I contacted him. This time he didn’t hesitate to tell me he had recently been confirmed as POZ, and was still unmedicated. The last bloodwork had shown a viral load of 97,000. He mentioned he had been thinking of calling me, and so I found we ended-up talking about what he wanted to to do me. His voice was masculine and projected a cocky jock attitude. He told me to call him when I hit the road for my trip. A few weeks later, I was ready to drive. I called him after a few minutes on the road. He wanted to meet at a bookstore right off the highway. It wouldn’t add a minute to my trip. I was losing excuses to avoid his toxic load at the last minute, like on-the-fence chasers like me do sometimes. We talked for a few minutes then he said something that clinched it. He wanted to talk to me the entire way until I was at the bookstore, when I was 30 minutes away he would head towards it to meet. We perved for 30 minutes, my cock out and dripping precum as I drove. He wanted me inside a booth with a jock on ready to be pozzed. My heart pounded and I edged my cock as he told me about his latest escapades fucking his raw load into college boys. His favorite thing to do was fuck safe sex only bottoms. He bites the tip off of the condoms he uses, with his cock penetrating skin on skin while the ring and base of the condom remain in place. He relishes in the times the bottoms reach back to make sure there is a condom, feeling the latex ring and relaxing their holes to receive his death seed thinking they are safe from harm. I oozed precum as he told me of the many safe-sex boys to find themselves drunk, questioning if he came in their ass after being slammed full of his cock and cum. He assured them it was just extra lube he had used so his cock wouldn’t hurt them, and reminding them they saw and felt the condom. I was at the exit for the book store, so I telephoned him, saying I was pulling off the highway, and would be there shortly. He replied saying he was five minutes from the book store. We hung up as I parked. I was shaking with excitement as I tucked my cock into my waistband and went inside the metal building where I paid the admission fee and entered the video area. The video booth area was cleaner than any I had seen before. They looked brand new. There weren’t any gloryholes, and unfortunately, I was alone. I had asked him to be verbal so that others could know I was getting poz fucked. Maybe next time. I picked a booth and stripped my shirt and pants off, leaving me standing in a jock, athletic socks, and tennis shoes. He texted saying he was entering the store. The cracked booth door pulled open, he stepped in and closed it behind him. My dick was dripping precum all over the floor in a way it never had before. I dropped to my knees and pulled out his cock. It was about seven inches, decently thick, cut, with a big head. I licked his precum before deep-throating and working his cock. All the while complementing my skill at sucking his cock, he talked to me like the faggot slut I was, telling me I was going to submit to his toxic cock and get his AIDS strain I stood up and turned my hole towards his direction. I bent over and braced against the wall of the booth. He plunged his cock into my ass rough. His dirty talk was beautiful. Nonstop poz domination, telling me how I would succumb to and get sick from his unmedicated toxic poz seed. I ached for it and rocked my ass against him to take his cock deeper. He ground my ass like this for what seemed like 15 or 20 minutes, roughly handling my neg jock body, slamming me against the wall, tightening his hand around my neck as he made me beg for AIDS. He made me promise to stay off meds and pass it to college studs who will fall for my hot jock body, all while impaling me with his raw cock. He was ramping up to blowing his load of cum, and it was all I could to do hold my load in and wait for him to climax. I had been gripping my cock still the entire time, on the brink from the first penetration. As he grunted with the release of the first rope of toxic cum into my gut I pulled down on my cock, putting pressure on the skin on the head and shot all over the booth wall. His pace slowed and he continued to grind his cock in and out of my hole for another minute or so.. My post cum regret was quickly sinking in. Fucking idiot fag slut, taking unmedicated poz seed on purpose. This always happens. But this time was the shortest yet. I hurried out of the booth, but by the time I made it to my car I was hard. A minute after driving away I found myself texting him, making plans for my next seeding.

Love the JFF BB fuck vids from XXLRodry in london [think before following links] https://justfor.fans/XXLRodry

I went to the park after dark in track pants, lubed up my hole, leaned again the rail on the bridge. It was extremely dark. After about a minute, a bear bro came up behind me and felt me up. I reached back and felt his cock through his shorts and I pushed them down, I played with the pre-cum on his cock head. He pulled down my track pants to find my pre-lubed hole, he guided his cock into my hole, he pushed me over forward to get good access. I realaised he is an old buddy of mine. It was hot to have his cock in my hole again, I love his full body contact, he is great at bear hugging.

I have no idea what the audience size was but when I was 18 I used to fuck outdoors, hidden by a small stand of trees in a park with a river on one side and a train embankment on the other side. Trains used to slide by slowly enough for passengers to get a good look at what we were doing.

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.

Thursday 10 pm Time flies when you’re having fun. Though sometimes, and this is when you know you’re riding the right amount of drugs, when I’m high and in the moment, time seems to stop, and all I can focus on is the cock, mouth, or hole in front of me. This is what I love about chemsex, the way it focuses your entire being on men and fucking. It’s not about letting it run my life, but using it to bring my buddies and me pleasure. It’s a balance, and I love teaching my bottom boys how to manage it and not lose themselves. Don’t get me wrong, I fucking love that we all get twisted, but I want them to learn how we all watch out for each other. I must have lapped at Drew’s smooth hole for almost an hour now. Sticking my tongue in, slowly teasing it open, spitting on the hole, taking my time to lap it up, making slow circles around the outside ring. Sometimes I reach up to work on his hard cock, edging him. Meanwhile, Jack loves playing with Drew’s fresh nips, teaching them how to be even more sensitive to the touch. Drew’s cock has been leaking precum like a fountain, and it was hot watching Jack grab it from Drew’s dick and whatever was on his stomach, and bring his precum-covered hand for Drew to lap up. I notice that the front of my jeans is wet from my own leaking cock. I’m sure Jack’s in the same situation. At one point earlier, Jack turned Drew on his stomach to lie on top of him, his smooth ass arched up, giving me a great view and access. I smiled as Drew reached over and moved a part of Jack’s button-down shirt to one side so that he could suck on Jack’s big eraser-sized nips. Jack played with Drew’s hair, encouraging him on, instructing Drew how to suck. “Bite it lightly, now cover it with your lips and slobber over it, with lots of spit, and stick your tongue out and draw it around the sides of the raised nips, feel how hard they are for you. You have to vary the feeling. Watch the guy’s reaction, and you’ll know what feels good to him.” “That’s right, baby. I love it when you suck on my big nips like that–seeing you naked on top of me. Your daddy behind you, eating your ass, opening you up. Is this what you wanted? We’ve talked about this for the past month, Drew. How you wanted to be used by men, to role play, to take loads from guys, whether they’re neg or poz. How you’ve wanted to try Tina and G, whatever we wanted to give you. This turns you on, doesn’t it? “Oh my God, I’ve thought about this for so long. Cruising online, finding pnp videos that I’ve jacked off to so many times. I want it badly.” “We love making your dreams come true, Drew.” “Thank you, Uncle Jack.” “Good. Your daddy is going to fill the pipe again, and I want you to suck on it while I make you another Coke with G. This time, I’ll give you a little more. Don’t worry, I just want you even more on the edge and hornier. But we’re going to take care of you, even if you nod off a little bit. You have nothing to worry about. We’ll make sure to wake you up smiling. Okay, baby? You trust us? “Yes, sir, I do. I want you to use me.” “Atta boy, that’s what we like to hear.” I know what Jack has in mind. We haven’t done this in a while, and we need to make sure the bottom is fully on board, which Drew is. Sounds like Jack’s been working on Drew for a while now. A hot newbie chem bottom who’s willing to try it all is a fucking birthday, Christmas, and anniversary present all rolled into one. You don’t get it very often, and there’s no guarantee it’ll go well. Some are all talk, but this kid is ready and willing. I haven’t seen any hesitation on his part, which will make this whole situation even better. I want to see how far we can push his boundaries. Honestly, A+ for this kid so far. I help Drew up from the couch and make out with him, letting him know that he’s exactly how we want him to be. While we make out standing up, I can feel his cock next to my leg, rubbing against the jeans. None of us has watched the porn on the screen at all; we’re so engrossed in the moment. At this point, it’s just there to add to the general sleaziness of the situation. We all realize that it’s not about the porn. Not at this point anyway. Jack stands up, unbuttons his shirt all the way, but leaves it on. He’s so sexy like that, with just his chest and nips showing, his bulge straining in his jeans. I pull away from making out with Drew, and we both watch Jack adjust his big dick in his jeans to make himself a little more comfortable. “I’ll get us some G. Drew, I’ll get you a robe too. We love you naked, but remember everything is a balance. While we get ourselves together for this next round, just wear the robe. You don’t have to close it, just leave it open, but it’ll keep you warm. I’ll turn the fireplace on too.” Drew reaches back and feels up his hole. “It’s so wet.” “You’re starting to smell like me, Drew. You got my slobber all over your hole.” Drew brings his hand back from feeling his hole and licks it. “Tastes good! Uncle Jack, can I help you with the G? I want to know what to do.” “Absolutely, Drew. Follow me, and we’ll get you that robe, then you can watch as I prepare the G. “There will be a quiz, later, Drew. Take notes.” Drew has a big smile as I say that. I watch Drew turn to follow Jack. His pert ass and the back of his thighs shiny from my slobber, his hair tousled. These breaks are important; they help the mood as it rises and falls. It’s like gooning and edging, knowing when to ease off to give yourself time to breathe. We could have jumped right to fucking, which I’m sure Drew would have loved, but this is about training and taking our time, letting him open up and be comfortable. My buddies and I all have different roles and strengths, but what Jack and I are particularly good at is this: what we’re doing right now. Getting him to break his bonds of shame, and let his inner pig out. We’re not fucking selfish. We’re in this together, and we want to train Drew so he goes on to more adventures. I take a quick peek at my phone and see that Kevin, Henry, and Dwayne have all checked in on our Telegram group chat. I quickly type that this kid’s a keeper, that we’re having an excellent time, and that I hope they come over when they’re free. Knowing their schedules, Kevin will probably come over in the morning. Henry and Dwayne will come later tomorrow, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they have cumpany with them. We don’t bring anyone who hasn’t been vetted, but thankfully we have a stable of men who join us. It’s nice to share in the fun. I watch Drew put on the bathrobe, leaving it open, giving us a peek at his still hard cock, his torso, and legs. As Drew and Jack head to the kitchen, I put my phone away and refill the pipe. I take out two more pipes from the coffee table drawer and fill them up as well. We don’t skimp, and it’s nice to have them ready. That’s what the burly straight dad taught me one summer while camping, but that’s a story for another time. The porn on the TV is set up so that another one automatically plays when it finishes. Jack has an extensive collection of both professional and amateur porn. I take the torch and melt the Tina in all three pipes, taking hits one after another from all of them. Don’t want any rocks spilling out. My dick jumps up a little as I smoke up. Kid was taking lots of hits in the beginning, shotgunning some to Jack and me, but then we got into the foreplay and stopped. Time’s right to get us amped up again. As I hit the pipes, I see Drew and Jack in the kitchen taking some Cokes in a glass to the counter. I’m sure if they were to look my way, all they would see are big clouds floating in the living room. Jack’s showing Drew how to measure the G. I can hear Jack telling him not to take G with alcohol, it just makes you sick, and that’s no fun. Jack fills the first and second glasses and lets Drew fill his own, showing him how much G to put in. Jack gets behind Drew as he’s doing this and pulls his robe open more and plays with Jack’s nips as he measures the G. I can see Drew momentarily close his eyes, wrapped up in the pleasure. Jack eggs him on, and Drew fills up his Coke with his dose. There’s about a foot difference in height between the two, which is fucking hot. The sight of Jack behind Drew, fondling him under his robe, is perfect. I want that shot burned in my memory banks. I put the third pipe down as they come back to the living room with three glasses. Drew’s open robe sways as he walks up to me. He smiles as he hands me my glass. I nod my head up, encouraging him over, and he comes in for a kiss. He does the same to Jack and the three of us down the Cokes. I’m used to the bitter taste, but I can see Drew whinge a little. It’s probably because he has more than we do. I reach down, get a pipe and put it in Drew’s mouth. “Here, take a hit. It will help with the taste. There are three pipes there now, just grab any when you want.” Jack takes our glasses and brings them to the kitchen while Drew fires up the torch and takes a few big hits in a row from the pipe. He’s getting good at taking in the Tina and at making clouds. “Just like I showed you earlier, blow them out slowly, and let the smoke creep out. Like it’s a living thing.” He’s getting the hang of it. It’s all a part of the show, of course. The clouds coming from his mouth are mesmerizing. “Better?” “Yeah, that G tastes horrible.” “Later, I’ll get a bubble ready and fill it up with Gatorade. That adds a nice, sweet flavor. Sit and get comfy, you’ll start to feel the G shortly.” The three of us sit back down on the couch. Drew between us, robe still open. His cock is no longer steel-hard, but it’s beautifully chubby and shiny. Jack reaches for a remote by his side to turn on the fireplace. “Thank you so much, guys. I’m having a great time.” “Let’s talk before the G hits, okay? Remember, this is all about fun. Follow our orders and speak up when you want something or need to take a break. We don’t like a bossy bottom, but we do like one who knows what he wants. We’re going to help you unlock that side.” As Jack says this, Drew watches him intensely looking directly into Jack's eyes. They lean in to kiss, and I grab one of the pipes and take a hit as they make out. Jack pulls away, a line of spit dangling between them, and nods for Drew to do a shotgun. I lean in to kiss him, holding the Tina in my lungs. Our mouths lock, and feel our tongues start to dance around each other. I reach up, holding his head lightly, and slowly blow in the smoke. We continue to make out as he lets the smoke out between us. It comes out thick, between kisses and out of his nose. Big hit for sure. Drew leans his head back, gives a big sigh, and says, “fuck, that’s good!” Jack draws open Drew’s robe some more and starts tweaking one of his nips. I spit in my hand and play with his cock, slowly. I feel it get even more chubby as I move my hand up and down the shaft. I then move to caress the head of his dick and lean over to whisper, “I can’t wait to slide my raw cock in your hole.” This makes Drew squirm in excitement. Head still back, eyes closed, probably starting to feel the waves of pleasure from the G. Jack’s got his hands all over Drew’s inner thigh as we ramp things up. “I’m getting a little dreamy. Horny and dreamy.” “That’s alright, that’s what you’re supposed to feel. The G is kicking in since you had a higher dose. Plus, we’re bigger and used to it. Just let it flow, Drew. Don’t fight what you’re feeling.” With that Drew starts to grind his hips in circles as I slowly jack him, and Jack alternates between Drew’s nips and thighs. “Drew, you may want to close your eyes a bit. That’s okay, let it happen. But we’re going to continue to have fun. Your cock is going to remain hard, and you’re going to feel warm and very, very horny. You may come in and out, but just ride the waves. Breathe and relax into it.” “Yeah, please!” This time, it’s Jack’s turn between Drew’s legs. Jack gets up and kneels down between Drew’s legs, the robe totally open, exposing Drew. Drew reaches down and grabs Jack’s hands in his, while Jack starts to lick Drew’s inner thighs, balls, and up and down Drew’s cock. I put the pipe down and paw at Drew as well. I watch Drew, making sure his breathing is regular, which it is. His head is going side to side as Jack sucks on his cock slowly, teasing it all over with his tongue, going all the way down to the bush. The waves must be hitting him now. His cock is back to rock hard, which happens a lot with G. He’s got a huge smile on his face, while Jack holds his hands down to his side. His squirming slows, but it gets more languorous and deliberate. He starts slowly bringing his cock up to meet Jack’s mouth, and I can see Drew’s cock get slobbery wet with spit. This goes on for about 15 to 20 minutes. Jack and I pleasuring Drew while the G goes into action. Slowly, we notice his gyrations slow down, and his body relax even more. He’s in that perfect dreamy, horny state. At one point, he nods off as Jack is sucking him off and I open his mouth and dribble some of my spit in. Jack and I get up to admire him. Sitting on the couch, naked under a robe, his smooth body glistening from our spit, he starts to touch himself with his eyes closed. With his left hand he plays with his nip while his right slowly jacks his cock. We look at each other and smile. I nod at Jack, which he knows is the signal to get the clippers and razor. As Jack ducks into the bathroom, I pick up one of the pipes and take a big hit. I let the smoke out and start to take off all my clothes. All the while watching Drew play with himself slowly. At times, stopping as he nods off, but then picks up again playing with his dick. This kind of wave is for the beginning, helping Drew loosen up, and shed his inhibitions. Plus, it makes our dicks so hard to see him like this. Playing with himself, as the G hits him over and over again. He’ll be alert soon enough and will be hyper-aware of everything happening. I kick my shirt and jeans to the side, standing fully naked now. The steel cock ring is tight around my hard cock. Drew stops jacking off and starts snoring lightly. His dick is rock hard, his legs spread open between the robe. I lean over and stick my tongue in his mouth, making out with him. He gives a “Mmmm, yes.” “Drew, I’m going to pick you up and bring you to the playroom. I’m going to lay you down on the play mattress. We’re going to strap your arms and legs down, and shave off your body hair. We want you smooth all over. You’re going to look even more like a true sub.” “Don’t be alarmed at being strapped down. You’re going to love giving up control to us. This is all part of the fun. Soon we’re going to be inside you, taking turns, opening your hole up for hours, we’re going to keep you spun, and your hole will be overflowing with our cum. Do you want that, Drew?” As I say this, Drew slowly opens his eyes. They’re glazed over at first, but he snaps to attention. “Yes, do it all to me.” I help Drew take off his robe and pick him up. Lifting weights all my life makes it handy when I have to do this kind of thing. I bring him to the playroom and put him down on the bed. He opens his eyes for a second and smiles again at me. There goes that smile, I love it. I then move to the sides of the bed, take the restrains and put them on his wrists. I spread his legs and clamp his ankles. He looks up and watches me, before nodding off again. This entire time his cock is standing straight up, leaking precum, pulsing up and down. He looks so fuckable strapped down like this. “Just relax for a moment, Drew, while we get things set up.” I can feel the G as well and it’s making me so horny and pervy. That and the hits of Tina, of course. I go back out to the living room and shout out to Jack, “You need help or you got it?” “All good. Bring your stuff in.” I get my bag, the torch, the three pipes on the coffee table, and go back to the playroom. Jack follows me in holding a basin of warm water, and a bag with the clipper and shaving razors. “Damn, he looks good like that! Is he nodding off? “Yeah, a little but he’s alert when he needs to be” Jack gets especially turned on by a bottom boy rolling on G. “Get your clothes off, Jack, and let's get this hair off his body. I want him smooth.” ...

I'm not good at figuring out how to end a story but here's my attempt! Sorry for the wait! Part 2 I hear the shower in the bathroom turn on. Great I think to myself, even if I scream into the gag he won't hear me. "Told you he has a nice ass, and to think my loads been getting churned all night" "Hell yeah, you did good to get this hole nice a lubed" There was no denying it, that was the voice of the first guy "Yeah I was edging all day so I busted a fat ass load into him before they could even check for a rubber" "Haha dumb slut probably thought it was lube, well he wouldn't be wrong it's the best lube there is" I hear a snap, and feel that cold piercing resting at my hole "Had to bust the rubber incase your hubby finishes before us, we can just tell him we didn't notice" He starts Jack hammering into me I can feel the cum dripping down my balls with each thrust. "Gotta give you as many loads as we can make an absolute mess of your hole" "Yeah fucking take this dick, fucking whore here it cums baby, gonna make you mine . . . Fuckkkkkkk" I can feel shot after shot hitting me deep. I try to fight him off sobbing into the restraints "Easy there, it'll get easier cum makes taking cock so much easier" I felt him shift his weight and get off the bed, just to be replaced my another guy. "Here don't forget the condom, they only play safe remember" He gave his friend the same used broken condom that he just rolled down to the base like a cockring. I hear the door open. And can head a couple voices. "This where the cumdump is?" "Hell yeah, the little slut is trying to see how much cum he can get" "I'll be back, I'm gonna take a leak" I couldn't focus on what he was doing due to the attack on my ass "Yeah that's it, it's like your ass is sucking me in!" "Going to give you another load for being such a good cum slut. Fuck here it comes" He slammed balls deep and I could feel shot after shot shooting in my hole. "Thats it baby, fuck your pussy is so messy" "Fuck he really is a cumslut" The next guy mounted my ass He wasn't huge but from what I felt he was thick with a big mushroom head "Fuckkkkk this ass feels amazing" "I saw your add on bbrt and im surprised you're real" "Slut made an add to take some stealth loads without his husband knowing, bound, blindfolded and ass up" "Wish he could see the slut you really are. How many loads do you have?" Bbrt? What is that? I never made an add? The man starts hate fucking my hole hard slamming balls deep telling me to take it. It's just all to much and I pass out. When I come to a min later I can still feel my hole being used and feel a wet rag by my face idk what it's wet with but it makes my head foggy and hard to focus. I hear some more grunting and pass out again. Some time later I wake again still being used as a cumdump except the room sounds full. I hear "rawdaddytop" "Ahhh your awake boy, hope you don't mind but I invited some guys to use your hole. Don't worry they're still using a condom" I hear another guy watching "Fuck yeah breed his ass deep" I wonder where my husband is and almost like he could read my mind rawdaddytop whispered in my ear "I smoked your husband out and he's passed out in the bathroom, but don't worry, it's your hole we want" This freaked me out, my husband was passed out in the bathroom while I was being gangraped and breed. He said they only want my hole so at least he's okay. I had no idea that daddy not only smoked him out but drugged him, bent him over the tub and already fucked a load into the hubby and that if he was prepped he would be getting his ass gang raped too They continued to fuck and rape my hole must have been at least 15-20 guys throughout the night I lost track when i started to pass out. My hole was so used and wet that there was no way to resist or stop them. I stopped fighting it and just accepted it. I was nothing but a cumhole. The sun was starting to come up. The room was clearing out. I was laying in a puddle of cum, my ass still being used. "Fuck he's such a whore, look at how much cum he took" I tried to look around but I was still blindfolded "Good morning princess" Rawdaddytop was still there "Just a couple more loads and your done, congrats on being such a good cumdump, sure you got a few gifts from the experience " "Fuckkkkk I'm Cumming again" I could feel his dick twitch and pulse "Fuck I love conversion parties, welcome to the club boy" Club? Does he mean cumdump club? Why would anyone leave me gifts? "Let's get you cleaned up before I breed you again" He started cleaning my ass/back and legs of all the cum that leaked out of me. He was making it look like nothing ever happened. "Can't have him knowing what we did now can we, this will be our little secret right?" I shook my head refusing to agree with him. "Well I'm sure you will" I felt him position himself ontop of me and slide in with ease. He may have cleaned around my ass but I was still full of cum. "Fuck I can't get enough of a well used ass" "Listen your hubby should be waking up soon, I suggest you think about what you want to tell him unless you want me to show him how much of a cheating cum whore you really are." Before I could respond he put his phone infront of my face. Showing me an add on bbrts "visiting bottom, looking to take as much cum as I can. Hubby doesn't know I'm a cumslut willing to take all loads. Please use a condom broken of course, we can aways say it broke by mistake if he catches you. I'll be at the double tree room 224 the door will be propped open I'll be blindfolded ass up and bound. Cum in wait your turn, breed me deep and repeat. Heavy cummers preferred, Poz more than welcome. Cum knock me up!" I never wrote this! I never even heard of bbrts. I'm reading this in disbelief all the while he's still long dicking my ass churning the cum in my ass. He clicked on the profile and it looked like he made one pretending to be me, using the pics from the add we made on sniffies. Plus a few new pictures of my well used ass leaking cum, and getting fucked. "Cheating cum slut, always looking to take a load. Love cnc, rough fucking and breeding. Poz friendly hmu" What the hell is this. I didn't make any of this yet it looks like I did, I can't risk my husband believing him. Then he went to his camera roll showing me videos of guy after guy breeding me, all fucking me with a busted condom that it looks like they just passed back and forth. Then I heard the bathroom door open, it was my husband he woke up. Daddy closed his phone and kept fucking. "Well look who finally woke up, that blunt really knocked you on your ass huh? "Yeah it did, I just remember being with that twink you brought, I hit that blunt and the rest is a blur. Must have slept funny tho my ass hurts" "Yeah sleeping on the bathroom floor will do that to ya" "Hope you don't mind but I've just been using his ass to edge all night, I still haven't gotten to cum yet, you care if I finish?" "Hey if he's enjoying it sure but don't take too long we got a few plans for the day" "No problem I'm so close man, fuck your lucky getting an ass like this when ever you want" He layed flat against me and started to really pound my ass like he wanted to break it. All while whispering in my ear. "Fuck I'm going to breed you so deep you'll be dripping my seed all day" He slammed in one final time grunting load and really putting on a show, you would of thought this was his first time cumming all month. He pumped a few more times, sat up and started to pull out. My husband wanted to see my used hole and got closer to get a good view and asked of he could take a little video to remember the night by. "Sure let me know when your ready" He went back in balls deep just slowly pumping my husband got his phone out. "Ready" He started to pull out slowly. You could see on the video his shiny cum slick cock pulling out slowly "Fuck that ass felt so good I didn't notice the condom break" You could see the condom bunched up at the base of his cock then his head popped out with an audible pop his mushroom head still hard, covered in cum, his PA holding the cum rope to my ass. "Sorry man I edged for so long I shot such a big load" I could tell my husband was both turned on and upset "Well fuck I guess it's only one load, your clean right?" "Yeah man, I always play safe" "Alright cool, not gonna lie thats pretty hot I don't think I've seen that much cum in 1 hole before" "Haha yeah im a pretty heavy shooter and using his ass to edge just made it bigger" "Well maybe we can do it again when we visit next, let me go grab a towel" He walked into the bathroom and daddy took off his well used and pointless rubber, and took the ball gag back. "Good boy, you take cum like a champ, remember our deal, you say anything I show him your profile and this lovely add" I was completely defeated. "Yes sir" "Good boy, here keep this in one last gift from me" He grabbed a butt plug and shoved it in, keep that there if you don't want me to show the hubby. I want proof you kept it in until you get home. My hubby came back in the room handed hin the towel. "Well we're gonna be heading back today but maybe I can get your number for when come back?" Daddy agreed and we all exchanged numbers, daddy got dressed and left. I get up and go take a quick shower trying my best to keep the plug in, I don't want to risk anything more. As I shower I heard my phone go off a few times. I finish up and check my phone. It's rawdaddytop he sent me several videos of my assault thru the night and even one showing him breeding my husband. There were so many guys all just passing the condom like a torch to show who's turn it is to breed. I heard a few guys talk about "pozzing my ass" and a few tops even had biohazard tattoos. This horrified me but also turned me on like no other, there was also a message. "If you don't want this posted, and sent to your hubby, you'll do good to keep what happened quite and stay in touch" I pushed the butt plug deeper and replied. "Yes daddy" "Good boy, make sure you tell me when you visit next." "Yes sir" I got rock hard and got dressed to head for home The end

I'm jealous. Groups are so hard to get. I've done 4 or 5 several times over the years. Once there were a dozen other men watching but I didn't get them all. Definitely one of my biggest fantasies is to get a bukakke from a LOT of men!

hope someone got to eat that fine hole out

That’s all you got to say? Great comeback. Wow…

If he sprays directly on your prostate you will feel it, you may also feel him pulsating. I can't say that I've ever felt like a guy was filling me up with cum, but if it is a big load you can often tell that you have cum in you.

great goal - I am the same if I go two or three days without cock I am howling for it. My ex used to say to me I needed fucking 10 times a day and on many days I exceed that.

Last Request When I realized I was gay back in the late 1990s and told my wife Beth, she was very understanding. We had an amicable divorce. A striking, short-haired brunette with large brown eyes, Beth would have no trouble finding someone new. Soon she reunited with Mark, an old lover, and within a year they were married. I was soon enjoying my new gay lifestyle, with a series of boyfriends. I soon found that I was a pure bottom and I began to date older and more masculine men. I was very careful to practice safe sex, this being the era before PrEP. Beth and I remained close. I slipped naturally into the role of gay best friend. It was such a stereotype but I still helped her pick out clothes. I would regale her with tales of my latest sexual adventure with some new guy, including my random hook-ups. She said I needed to find someone and settle down. A registered nurse, Beth took a job in a hospital AIDS ward. She told me about her patients and asked me to visit them since many had been abandoned by their former lovers and families. Having become an AIDS activist myself after coming out, I was glad to visit my brothers in distress. I spent hours talking to men suffering advanced symptoms and was deeply saddened when several of them died. When I arrived one day to visit, Beth brought me into her office and said, “Andy, I have a big favor to ask of you. Eric, one of my patients, is nearing the end. He asked that he be given a chance to make love to one more man before he goes. He’s very sweet. I was hoping you would agree.” It struck me as an odd request, but it also seemed like the caring thing to do. I was committed to helping in any way I could. Besides, I had never been able to say no to Beth. Eric had been moved to a private room. She assured me we would not be disturbed. I knocked and entered. The window shades were down and the light was dim. Eric greeted me warmly. “You must be Andy,” he said. He turned on the lamp at the bedside. I could see his gaunt face and sunken eyes. He was clearly a very sick patient. “Beth told me about you. You’re just as cute as she said.” “Did she say anything else?” “She said you’re a bottom and like to play around. I think she used the word ‘slut.’” I blushed but did not disagree. “She’s not wrong,” I said. “Let me show you, Eric.” I unbuttoned my shirt. Then I shed my clothes as I crossed the room, and by the time I was at his bedside I was stark naked, with my modest cock sticking straight out. I could see the lust in Eric’s eyes. “Oh, god,” he said. “It’s been so long.” I peeled back the top sheet and found Eric to be just as bare. His face, though drawn and pale, was still handsome. Before the disease had ravaged his body, he must have had his pick of men to fuck. Now, though, he was emaciated and his skin was marked with sores. And then there was his cock, already fully erect. It stood up, thick and long, with protruding veins. I could see bit of precum glistening at the tip. “Are you sure you want to do this, Andy? I don’t have any condoms.” I really hadn’t thought about the risk until this moment, but I didn’t care. Eric needed me and Beth had asked me to let him make love one last time. I bent down and kissed him deeply. I felt his hand stroke and then clamp onto my butt cheek. His grip was surprisingly firm. Then, as our tongues danced together, I felt his index finger probe my tight hole. I grunted softly with pleasure as it slipped inside me. I offered no resistance. I understood what he wanted and I had promised Beth I would make a dying man happy. I climbed onto the bed, straddling Eric with my ass pointed toward his face. I tasted his cock, gently licking the head before opening my mouth and throat to take him deep. “Oh, yes, baby. You do know how to suck cock,” he muttered. Eric leaned forward and began to lick my hole. I love it when my top gets me ready by rimming me, and Eric used his tongue like a pro. Soon he had me moaning around his cock. He paused and I heard him pick up something in a tube. It was lube. He began to apply it to my ass. We both knew what was coming next. “I’m going to fuck you now,” Eric declared. It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t asking permission. I had come to his room and that counted as consent. I pivoted on the bed so our faces were close. Then I reached behind me to guide the tip of his cock into my waiting hole. I slowly lowered myself onto the intruder. I felt the usual stinging, burning sensation that signals the first penetration and waited for my sphincter to relax. In a few moments I opened to Eric’s cock, the burning giving way to that wonderful warmth and fullness that tells me I have taken my lover within me. I kissed him again, more passionately. His hands, still surprisingly powerful, gripped my hips as he began to thrust deeper and deeper into me. Eric paused and told me to get on all fours. I lifted myself off his cock. I felt suddenly empty and realized how much I needed him inside me. I felt his hands spread my ass cheeks, then the tip of his cock against my hole, and finally the head enter me. One slow, long, delicious thrust took him past my prostate and sent me to heaven. I gasped at the intense sensation. I turned my head and our eyes met. “I love how your cock feels inside me, Eric,” I murmured, like a true cock whore. “You’re so big.” His strong hands gripped my hips, giving him leverage. He grunted in my ear, lost in his own pleasure. I thought I might well be the last man he ever fucked, and felt a tear in my eye. I could feel his thrusts becoming more urgent and sensed he was close. Then I heard someone enter the room. I guessed it was Beth. Eric never paused fucking me. “Tell me what you want slut,” he ordered. I was embarrassed that my ex-wife was watching us. I replied quietly, “I want you to cum inside me.” “I can’t hear you, Andy. Neither can Nurse Beth. Tell us what you want.” I looked back at him, then directly at my ex-wife. “I want you to breed me, Eric.” Her eyes widened. “No, you cunt. Tell us what you really want.” “I want your AIDS!!!” I said loudly enough to be heard in the hall. Beth stared intently at me, her expression a mixture of shock and curiosity. One final pause, a deep guttural release of sexual tension from Eric’s throat, then rapid thrusts deep within me. I felt the warmth as his cum filled my ass. He had exhausted himself with the exertion of breeding me and collapsed on my back. I lay down on my belly and he lay atop me, breathing heavily. I turned my head and he gave me a deep fuck kiss that went on and on. We both looked again at Beth. I saw she was holding a small packet in her hand. She said softly, “Andy, I realized after you came into the room that you might need a condom. I guess I was wrong.” “Yeah, Beth, your faggot ex-husband wanted my toxic load as much as I wanted to give it to him. I don’t have long but maybe my poz babies will grow inside him. Especially if we go another round or two.” Beth continued to stare at us, now with a strange smile on her face. “Andy, I didn’t mean for you to do something reckless, but that we just so beautiful to watch. I am so glad we could do this for Eric. Andy, it was so wonderful of you to make Eric’s last wish come true. I hope you’ll let him fuck you and cum inside you again.” She soon left and I spent the rest of the night in his arms. He fucked me twice more. The effort drained his strength. When I left the next morning, he could barely say goodbye. A little of his cum dribbled from my ass, leaving a wet spot in my underwear. A few days later, Beth called me to tell me Eric had died. We both cried. Then a couple of weeks later the fuck flu hit me. She helped nurse me through it. Sick as I was, I was also happy to be carrying Eric’s babies. One day, after I recovered, Beth called me. “Andy, I was wondering if you would do me another favor. I have another patient who is getting close to the end. He has a special request….” “Of course,” I answered. “I’ll be there in an hour.” Like I said, I could never say no to her.

My guess would be that he is bi, and always had been. I've been at Hawks while he was both hooking up for his own pleasure and filming scenes, and have talked to him a little bit, but never had the desire to actually have sex with him because of his sickly appearance which I attributed to his substance usage (we have definitely had sex with the same guy a few times). He looks much healthier in the pics than he looked in either his later videos or I've seen real life, so I wish him the best.

I've harbored fantasies of being castrated for almost as long as I've had barebacking fantasies, and I wonder what the general feeling is among tops (especially poz tops) about topping a castrated or completely gender nullified (cock and balls all removed) masculine bottom. Would having my nuts cut off make me more or less attractive to tops, or am I mixing fantasies?

A question it seems we are often plagued by - who's the hot guy in that video, or in that ad, or wherever else you saw him? A thread for us to help each other out. If you saw him on public transit, you're probably SOL. I'll kick it off with this one - just saw this banner ad on here and the top is smoking hot! Who's the top in this shot here? I am in lust with his belly fur...

Part 1 It has been almost 20 minutes figuring out what to wear on my first Pride march. My brother is sitting on his sofa in the living room and waits patiently for me to get ready. ‘Luke, how long will it take you to turn into the slutty twink you always are? The march starts in one hour and we still have to get there first’ my brother calls teasingly. ‘I’m not a slutty twink’ I call back, but when I look in the mirror it is exactly what I am. I am a 21-year-old skinny bitch, at least my friends call me that. I guess it is true, when you’re under 6 feet tall your mouth must become a little bit more powerful. I look at myself and am happy with my outfit, a leather harness over a tight sheer white t-shirt and assless chaps with a golden thong to cover my privates at least a little. As I enter the living room, my brother looks amused. ‘Yeah, right, you are not slutty, not a little bit’ ‘Shut up and let’s go’ We get into his car and drive to the starting point of the Pride March. I really can’t believe that my brother has decided to join me, but he has always supported me. As the Pride march is in a different city, then where I study, my friend group has to arrive by train, and we will meet them there. I was lucky enough to stay at my brother’s for the last two days or I would be sitting in that train too, because the hotel prizes are just too expensive for us partying students. After my brother parked his car in a relatively unknown side street, we head to the parade. I see my friends from far away and we reach them with difficulty as the crowd is huge. The news say that over 100.000 people are expected to celebrate and protest. We finally reach my friends, and I introduce my brother to them, of course they are immediately drawn to him, his charm is unparalleled. For a happily married, straight guy, he really hits it off with my people. The march begins, the atmosphere electric. After an hour we take a break, my brother in deep conversation with Lily, one of my best friends. As we continue our march, the sun becomes stronger and it is getting hot between all the buildings. My brother decides that between all the half-naked people he could get rid of his shirt, I’m astonished by the confidence of him. But of course, I have to admit, he probably is the wet dream of a lot of guys here. As a former ruby player, he is very muscular with a big ass, his now exposed hairy chest is getting all the attention of the people around us. If he wasn’t 13 years older than me and happily married, I would be jealous of the attention he is getting, well I am a little bitch after all, but I really love that he is so comfortable. We walk on, I party with my friends, and my brother is falling behind, but one of us always has an eye on him. Before we reach the big square, Lily notices that my brother is in a very intimate conversation with another men. He is almost as muscular as my brother, his chest hairy as well and his abs out of this world. Above his crotch, which is only covered by a leather jockstrap and the half of a biohazard tattoo is blazing above it. I have no idea how this guy and my brother ended up chatting, but the man’s hand rests on the lower back of my brother. But I forget about it rather quickly as I feel the hand of my on-and-off again boyfriend Chad on my ass. We reach the square, my brother back with our group, all listening to the speeches of the organisers, activists and politicians. Later we decide to go to one of the many parties in the cities gay club, my brother talked into it by Lily and Chad. We chose one, that has an all-welcome bar, but gay cruising area downstairs. So that Chad and I can have some spicy fun, while Lily, my brother and the rest of the gang enjoy the party upstairs. As soon as we enter the club, the atmosphere is full of sex, lust and beer. I’m not sure this was the right choice, but my friends just got the last table and ordered their drinks. Chad and I decided to head downstairs, we are not here to waste time. As we enter the cruising area, Chad pushes me into an open room, that transmits a live video feat of the people inside on a monitor. We close the door and start to make out, within in seconds I have his dick in my mouth, sucking and licking relentlessly. He is almost close to come, so he pulls me up, kisses me and then gets on his knees to return the favour to my cock. Chad isn’t the best at sucking, but he can take a cock deepthroat, I start to fuck his mouth and almost shoot my load. We stop, savouring it for later, we kiss and head back upstairs. As we join the group, I notice my brother wasn’t there. ‘Have you guys seen my brother’ I asked them. ‘He went to the toilets I guess, but it has been a while to be honest’ Lily answers me. I am puzzled as well as a little concerned, I hope he wasn’t angry because I left with Chad right away. I search for him but cannot find him anywhere upstairs. He might have searched for me downstairs, so I decide to head back to the cruising area. As I enter there are a lot more men now, but my brother doesn’t seem to be there. I walk through the maze, some hands finding my ass and cock, but I ignore them, when I stumble upon a playroom with bondage bench right in the centre. I can’t believe my eyes, bend over the bench is my brother while the guy with the biohazard tattoo is fucking him. I slip into a dark corner, watching the scene with confusion. My brother is in pure ecstasy and lust, the unknown guy is hitting harder and harder into him, my brother moaning louder and louder. Suddenly, a big beefy muscular man, his body covered in hair and completely naked enters the room walking directly to the bench. He positions himself in front of my brother and he takes the rock-hard pierced cock in his mouth without hesitation. I can’t believe it, my brother is being spitroasted right now. The man with the biohazard tattoo nods to the big beefy guy, and they swap places. As he stands behind my brother, pushing his cock against his ass, I noticed something missing, but it took me a moment to realise. My brother is not only taking cock, but he is also taking cock raw, and he is taking poz cock raw. It overwhelms me and I turn to leave, when Chad collides with me at the door. I try to push him outside, don’t want him to see my brother, but it is to late. Chad kisses me and then pushes me aside, entering the room and walking towards the bench. He doesn’t present himself to my brother, he walks behind him, nods to the beefy man currently fucking my brother, who makes space willingly. Now the beefy man and the man with the biohazard tattoo are in front of my brother as he is licking or cleaning their cock with his tongue. But my focus is on Chad, who with a grin on his face and a quick look to me, rams his cock into my brother’s ass. My brother moans loudly, I know why, Chad’s cock is not only long, but big. For a little twink, he has a massive cock. I can’t take it anymore and leave the playroom. It takes twenty minutes for Chad to reappear upstairs, but my brother still hasn’t come back up. ‘I thought your brother was straight?’ Chad asks me casually. ‘He is, at least I thought he is, but why did you fuck him? Fuck, my boyfriend fucked my brother, that’s bad’ ‘Don’t loose your cool, lets face it we have fun, but we are not exclusive or anything, and your brother is proper hot. I just had to take the chance.’ ‘Easy for you to say, I don’t know what is happening right now’ ‘I get that, but don’t give him a hard time, he always supported you, now it’s your turn.’ ‘But he fucked the guy with the biohazard tattoo raw, he took poz cock and I doubt he is on PrEP’ ‘Oh, he is taking a lot more loads down there and I never been on the pill too’ ‘What, wait, but we …’ ‘Yes, we fucked raw a lot, but you never asked. Now, get your thong out of your ass and don’t be a bitch. He is enjoying himself, let him have this night’ With those words Chad went to the bar to get another drink. It took another 45 minutes before my brother came back upstairs, together with the biohazard guy. They walked straight towards me. ‘Hey little bro, I want to introduce you to Mark, I met him during the parade’ ‘Hey, nice to meet you. And how was his cock in your ass?’ My brother looks puzzled for a moment, but then his confidence takes over again. ‘His cock is great, gave me a really nice toxic load up my ass, can’t wait for another round’ My eyes betray me, the shock apparent. My brother takes Mark’s hand, kisses him in front of me and they both turn around to go back downstairs. I don’t see my brother for the whole night, but he is my ride back to his place. It is almost 5am in the morning, when he comes back to the table, on which Lily, Chad and I are the last remaining of our group. ‘Let’s go, I bring you all back to mine and Luke, we will talk later’ We stand up and are greeted outside by the first rays of sunshine. My brother is walking in front of us, on his pants a little wet spot appearing right on his ass, apparently he is leaking the loads of the night, but I am the slut.

This is what I always silently wanted my ex to do with me - set me up in a bang. Sadly I never opened up to ask him [think before following links] https://xhamster.com/videos/his-partner-in-sex-party-10311038

Part 1- Contemplation and Preparation Tonight was the night. After nearly a year of fantasizing, research, and sleepless nights masturbating while reading countless stories of smoking and sexual debauchery, I decided to finally give in to my darkest desires. Standing in front of the nondescript industrial building, I forced myself to finally work up some courage and stepped inside, heart pounding. Taking in my surroundings, I noted how small the entry area was... dimly lit, with a metal security door to the right of what could only be described as a jailhouse-like window. In the corner, a sad-looking ficus filled up the remaining space. Muted, heavy thumping music played in the background, likely muffled by the door. The faintest smell of body odor, mixed with a faint undertone of floral-scented industrial bathroom cleaner, and what I could only assume was the scent of male sex. It reminded me of the movie Cruising with Al Pachino… dingy, seedy, and a little on the wrong side of dangerous. I slowly walked up to the window, promptly setting my cover charge in front of the attendant. I waited, looking at the man before me. He was maybe a bit older than me although much taller, with short cropped black hair, a large septum ring in his nose, and a 5 o’clock shadow surrounding a goatee, wearing a leather harness with a large, already lit cigar smoldering in an ashtray next to him. Tattoos adorned both of his arms, but the one on his left bicep drew my interest the most. Slowly, he looked up from his phone and gave me a once over before pushing my money back. “Sorry, probably going to want to go to another party there, pretty boy,” he sighed, turning his attention back to his phone, “I don’t think you’re going to exactly fit in here tonight. Maybe come back another day.” Even I had to admit that I probably looked out of place for the theme tonight at the sex club. Reddish blond, 5’7, young and fit but not overly muscular, clean cut, and more on the preppy side. However, I was on a mission tonight. Months of planning were not going to go to waste. I knew exactly what I looked like, and I was counting on using it to my fullest advantage. “No,” I said, patiently replying with the same smile I had cultivated working retail in my younger years. As I pushed back the money across the counter, I continued, “I know exactly what tonight is here. And I think I’m in exactly the right place.” Piquing his interest, he looked back up from his phone, grabbed the cigar, and put it in his mouth, one eyebrow threatening to arch up in curiosity before smirking. “Sorry, but you still need to be wearing-“ he started before I quickly cut him off. “Leather? Already wearing a leather jockstrap,” I said, before pulling the neck of my shirt down slightly, “Also wearing a leather harness.” Taking a large puff on the cigar, he blew out a large cloud of the sweet, acrid smoke in my face as he continued, “You know there are a lot of smokers in there tonight, and more than a few…” “Oh, I’m counting on it,” I replied before taking a huge sniff of the cigar smoke, cutting him off while staring openly at his bicep tattoo. “Well,” he said, grabbing the money, “I hope you get exactly what you came here for then, pig. Locker or room?” “I’ll take my chances with the locker,” I quickly replied, feeling my cock slowly start to stir at the banter going on between us, my mind going to dark, perverted places as I watched the cherry on the end of the cigar glow with each puff. He turned sideways, grabbing one of many small brass keys attached to the cheap plastic wrist keychains. Tossing it on the counter, he took another puff on his cigar before picking his phone back up. “Good luck fucker,” he said, smiling as I grabbed the key from him, effectively signing away my fate with that little key. “Thanks,” I said, more shaky than I wanted to admit, be it from anticipation, a little fear, or a ton of excitement. “By the way,” he called out to me as I slowly stepped back from the counter and began walking to the door, “I’m off at midnight. It’s a bit slow right now, but it should be picking up pretty soon. Hope you get exactly what you came for.” I could only nod as I grabbed the door and he buzzed me in, letting the sounds and smells wrap around me in their dark embrace. — Walking down the dim, cinderblock-lined walls, I looked around taking everything in as fast as I could. The music was thumping louder, and I could vaguely make out the sounds of men talking as I got closer to the locker room. The smell of sex was in the air. As was the BO, and a faint underlying smell of piss. Exactly what I expected from all the stories I had read, and people I had chatted with online. I could feel my cock slowly continue to stir under the leather jockstrap. I kept walking, feeling slightly like a fish out of water. Quickly enough, I was in the locker room. Looking down at the key, I found the number and made my way over to the corresponding locker. I quickly stripped out of my carefully picked shirt and smartly pressed pants, folding them up and placing them in the locker, making sure to pull out the bottle of poppers I had purchased online, stuffing it into the small pouch on the right upper harness. Locking the small metal door, I walked over to the large, full-length mirror attached to the concrete pillar across from my locker and took in my appearance. Black leather harness, perfectly framing my slightly muscular and hairless chest, with a single strap going across my chest, just above my pecs. Reddish blond hair expertly styled just barely messy to the side almost touching my bluish-grey eyes. My jockstrap, also leather, with its two yellow striped going back to my taint, divided by a zipper going down the center, and its straps just barely cupping my ass. ‘I look hot’ I thought to myself, taking in my features. That’s when I saw him. Well over 6 feet tall, buzz-cut grey hair, with a large mostly grey beard. Muscular with a tiny bit of fat around the edges. Tattoos everywhere, with a black leather vest and leather chaps, and a leather flat top with silver chain going across it. I could already see several large cigars poking out of the pocket of his vest, with what had to be the largest pipe I’d ever seen in his mouth, smoldering away as he left a cloud of thick smoke in his wake. It was him. After months of watching porn online, and reading what others wrote about my same fantasies, he was right in front of me—the man who would be instrumental in my long-fantasized self-destruction.

For me a dick from any ass to my mouth is so natural during sex like breathing in general. I refuse a cock only if I smell or see anything disturbing on that dick. Unfortunately I experienced it sometimes and it’s annoying in saunas, cruising bars or outdoor. At hone parties, it’s manageable.

Chapter 26 The drive home from the work site was a blur of asphalt and aching silence. Jordan’s mind, for once, wasn’t on Chad or the lingering echo of their last hotel-room encounter. It was a state away, in his own house, with the two people he’d built a life with. He’d called them last night. No answer. He’d texted this morning. Nothing. A cold, leaden dread had been growing in his gut all day, a stark contrast to the humid summer air flooding through the truck’s open window. Pulling into the driveway, the dread solidified into a hard, icy rock. The driveway was empty. No Jared’s beat-up sedan. No Blake’s sleek motorcycle. No. They’re just out. They’re shopping. They’re getting food. The excuses were weak, pathetic things that dissolved the moment he killed the engine. The silence that greeted him was absolute and profoundly wrong. He pushed open the garage door, the creak of the hinge absurdly loud in the quiet. “Jared? Blake?” His voice bounced off the walls, unanswered. He stepped into the kitchen. Nothing on the counter. No note. The living room was… clean. Too clean. The throw blankets were neatly folded. The video game controllers were lined up with military precision on the media console. Jared never did that. He took the stairs two at a time, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He shoved open the door to their shared bedroom. Empty. The closets were half-empty, hangers dangling askew. The dresser drawers were pulled open, hollowed out. All of Blake’s graphic tees, all of Jared’s flannels and worn jeans—gone. The bathroom was next. His items sat alone on the counter. Their toothbrushes, their products, the special beard oil Chad had given Jared—vanished. They were gone. They had moved out. Together. A wave of vertigo washed over him. He staggered back, leaning against the doorframe for support. Why? What had he done? There were no fights, no jealousy, no slammed doors or bitter words. The last time he’d seen them, they’d been wrapped up in each other on the couch, smiling, telling him about their boring day. It was a lie. It had all been a lie. The panic was a live wire now, sparking under his skin, stealing the air from his lungs. He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the hallway floor, knees pulled to his chest. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. His hands were shaking. Who did he call? His parents? They wouldn’t understand. A friend? He didn’t have any others. They had been his whole world. On pure, desperate instinct, his trembling fingers found his phone. He scrolled past Jared’s name, past Blake’s, and landed on the last person he’d been with. He hit call. Chad answered on the second ring. “Hey, man. You make it back okay?” The sound of his voice, so normal, so grounded, was the final crack in Jordan’s composure. A choked sob escaped him. He couldn’t form words. “Jordan?” Chad’s tone shifted instantly, all casualness evaporating. “Jordan, talk to me. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” “They’re… they’re gone,” he finally managed, the words raw and broken. “Everything’s… empty. They left me.” “Sit tight,” Chad’s voice was firm, a command that cut through the static in Jordan’s head. “Don’t move. I’m on my way.” The line went dead. Jordan let the phone clatter to the floor, burying his face in his hands. The silence of the house pressed in on him, a heavy, suffocating weight. Minutes later, the roar of a familiar truck engine cut through the quiet, followed by the slam of a door. Heavy, urgent footsteps pounded up the front porch steps. The front door swung open. “Jordan?” He heard Chad’s voice echo through the empty downstairs before his bootfalls sounded on the stairs. He appeared at the top, his broad frame filling the hallway. His eyes, dark with concern, found Jordan crumpled on the floor. In two long strides, Chad was there. He didn’t hesitate. He dropped to his knees and gathered Jordan into his arms, pulling him against his chest. Jordan collapsed into him, his body wracked with silent, shuddering sobs he could no longer contain. “Shhh, I’ve got you,” Chad murmured, his voice a low rumble against Jordan’s ear. One large, calloused hand cradled the back of Jordan’s head, fingers tangling in his hair. The other rubbed slow, firm circles on his back. “I’ve got you. Just let it out.” He held Jordan tightly, his embrace an anchor in a suddenly unmoored world. Jordan clung to the rough fabric of Chad’s work shirt, inhaling the familiar scents of diesel, clean sweat, and just Chad. It was the only thing that felt real. Chad held him through the worst of it, until the sobs subsided into shaky, hiccupping breaths. He didn’t say empty platitudes. He didn’t ask stupid questions. He just held him, his own heart hammering a frantic, hopeful rhythm against Jordan’s chest. This is it, Chad thought, his face buried in Jordan’s hair. This is my chance. The thought was immediate, selfish, and utterly overwhelming. For weeks, this man in his arms had been all he could think about. Jordan made him feel safe, seen, and fucking alive in a way he’d never experienced. The sex was earth-shattering, yeah, but it was the quiet moments after, the easy laughter, the shared looks—that’s what had cemented it. He was head over heels, desperately in love, and he’d been trying to find the nerve, the perfect moment to say it. But this… seeing Jordan so completely shattered, so vulnerable… this wasn’t the right time. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t confess his feelings now. It would be taking advantage. So he just held on tighter, pouring every ounce of the love he couldn’t say into that simple, solid embrace. “I don’t understand,” Jordan whispered against his neck, his voice hoarse. “Why would they just go? Without a word?” “I don’t know, man,” Chad said softly, his lips brushing against Jordan’s temple. “But you’re not alone. You hear me? You’re not alone in this.” He leaned back just enough to look at Jordan’s face, his thumb gently wiping a stray tear from his cheek. The proximity was electric. Jordan’s eyes, red-rimmed and lost, searched his. Chad’s gaze dropped to Jordan’s lips for a heartbeat too long, the air between them thickening with something far more complex than comfort. “I’m right here,” Chad breathed, his voice barely a whisper, a pr omise and a question all at once. Chapter 27 The warm, damp spot on Chad’s shirt grew larger as Jordan’s sobs finally began to subside, the raw, wrenching sounds softening into shaky, hitching breaths. He felt hollowed out, scraped clean by the shock and the crying. Chad’s arms never loosened their hold, his hand a steady, comforting pressure on the back of Jordan’s head. Jordan tilted his face up, his vision blurred by remaining tears. Chad’s concerned face was inches from his, his brow furrowed, his own eyes shining with an emotion Jordan was too overwhelmed to name. Without a single conscious thought, driven by a need for comfort that was more primal than any logic, Jordan closed the small distance between them and pressed his lips to Chad’s. It was a messy, salty kiss, wet with tears and the faint, embarrassing smear of snot from Jordan’s nose. He didn’t care. He poured every bit of his confusion, his loss, and his desperate need for connection into it, clinging to Chad like he was the only solid thing in a world that had just collapsed. He kissed him for what felt like an eternity, a silent plea for the ground to stop shifting beneath his feet. When he finally pulled back, gasping for air, his cheeks flushed with a heat that was entirely new, regret instantly flooded him. “Chad, I’m… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… that was…” Chad’s hand, which had stilled on his back, began to move again in slow, calming circles. His voice was low, a soft rumble that vibrated through Jordan’s entire body. “No. Don’t apologize. It’s okay.” He brushed a stray tear from Jordan’s cheek with his thumb, his calloused skin rough yet incredibly gentle. “I was wanting to kiss you, too.” They stayed like that for a long moment, foreheads resting together, their breath mingling. Jordan’s heart was no longer hammering from panic, but from something else entirely, something terrifying and exhilarating. Chad’s eyes, dark and intense, searched his, and Jordan saw the internal battle raging within them. “Jordan…” Chad began, his voice husky. He took a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. “I know… I know this is the worst possible time. The absolute worst. And I’ve been trying to find a better moment for weeks, but… I can’t wait another minute. Seeing you like this… I can’t hold it in.” He leaned back just enough to look Jordan directly in the eye, his gaze unwavering, raw with a vulnerability Jordan had never seen in the rugged man before. “I have been racking my brain every single day since that first time in the hotel,” Chad confessed, the words pouring out in a rushed, earnest torrent. “Thinking about you. About us. About how you make me feel. I was so unsure, man. So fucking confused. I’ve never… felt this for anyone. Not like this.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “But I can’t deny it anymore. I’m not confused. I’m in love with you, Jordan.” The declaration hung in the silent hallway, so immense it seemed to absorb all the sound in the world. Jordan could only stare, his mind struggling to process the words. Chad continued, his voice gaining strength, filled with a wondrous awe as he cataloged his feelings. “I’m in love with your stupid, perfect smile that makes your eyes crinkle. I’m in love with your laugh, the way you throw your head back and just let go. I’m in love with this body,” he said, his hand slipping from Jordan’s back to splay across his chest, feeling the frantic beat of his heart. “The way you move, the strength in you. I’m even in love with your smell—like clean sweat and that cheap shampoo you use and just… you.Everything. I’m just… completely in love with you.” Jordan was speechless. The emptiness left by Jared and Blake’s abandonment was suddenly filled with a roaring, incandescent light. All the clandestine glances at the shipyard, the possessive grabs in the hotel, the tender way Chad had cared for him during sex—it all snapped into a perfect, stunning picture. “But…” Jordan finally managed, his voice a disbelieving whisper. “I thought you were straight?” A slow, genuine smile spread across Chad’s face, softening his sharp features. “Labels are just words, man. They don’t mean a damn thing. I love Jordan. I wouldn’t care if you were a guy, a girl, or a fucking brilliant alien from another planet. I just love you. For you.” It was the sweetest, most overwhelmingly honest thing anyone had ever said to him. The last of the ice around Jordan’s heart shattered. A choked, half-sob, half-laugh escaped him as fresh tears, these born of pure, unadulterated joy, welled in his eyes. “I love you too, Chad,” he breathed, the words feeling more right and true than anything he’d ever uttered. “God, I love you so much.” The relief that washed over Chad’s face was profound. He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for weeks and pulled Jordan into a fierce, crushing hug, burying his face in his neck. They held each other in the quiet hallway, surrounded by the ghosts of a past life, but firmly anchored in the stunning reality of their new beginning. After a long while, Chad shifted. The look in his eyes changed from one of comfort to one of smoldering intent. The hand on Jordan’s chest slid lower, over the tight muscles of his stomach, coming to rest at the waistband of his work pants. The touch was no longer just comforting; it was a question. “They don’t get to take this from us,” Chad murmured, his lips grazing Jordan’s earlobe. “This is ours.” Jordan answered him by capturing his mouth in another kiss, this one deep, hungry, and full of promise. It was a claiming. A consummation of words with action. Chad met his hunger with his own, his tongue sliding against Jordan’s as his fingers worked open the button of his jeans, then the zipper. The rasp of the denim was deafening in the silence. Chad broke the kiss, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down between them. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of Jordan’s pants and underwear and pushed them down in one smooth, determined motion. Jordan kicked them off, his hard cock springing free, already leaking. Chad’s gaze was rapt, worshipful. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, his own hands going to his belt buckle. The clink of the metal, the rough sound of his own zipper coming down, sent shivers of anticipation through Jordan. Chad shoved his heavy work pants and boxer briefs down his muscular thighs, his thick, uncut cock standing proud and full. They stood there for a heartbeat, naked in the hallway, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows around them. The air crackled with a new, profound intimacy. This wasn’t a frantic hookup in a cheap hotel room. This was different. This was theirs. Chad reached out, his hand not going for Jordan’s cock, but instead cupping his jaw, his thumb stroking his cheek. “I want to make love to you,” he said, the words a soft, reverent vow. “Will you let me do that?” Jordan’s answer was to take his hand and lead him, not to the empty bedroom that echoed with loss, but toward his own room down the hall. As they passed the threshold, Chad pulled him close again, his strong arms wrapping around him, their bodies aligning from chest to thigh. The feeling of their cocks pressed together, hard and hot between them, was an electric shock. Chad’s mouth found his again, slower this time, deeper. It was a kiss that spoke of belonging, of a future he’d been too afraid to imagine. His hands roamed Jordan’s back, down to the swell of his ass, pulling their hips even tighter together in a slow, grinding rhythm that made Jordan’s head spin. “My turn to take care of you,” Chad whispered against his lips, his voice thick with emotion and desire. THE END THANKS EVERYONE I HOPE YOU ENJOYED

homeless guys are hot I rim them

Chapter 18 The weight of the last twenty-four hours pressed down on Jordan the moment he stepped through his front door. It was a physical thing, a leaden exhaustion that seeped into his bones. The emotional whiplash of Blake’s confession, the terrifying honesty with Jared, the fragile, desperate connection they’d reforged on the couch—it had all left him hollowed out. He barely managed to kick off his shoes and shrug out of his jacket before collapsing onto his bed. The world dissolved into a dreamless, merciful void within seconds. Sunlight, sharp and accusing, pulled him back to consciousness. He groaned, rolling over and fumbling for his phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up, and his breath caught. A text from Blake, sent an hour ago. Blake: I didn’t sleep. Thought about it all night. What you said… it’s insane. It’s the craziest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. Jordan’s heart plummeted. Here it comes, he thought, the rejection he’d been half-expecting. He started to type a reply, an apology already forming on his fingers, when a second message popped up. Blake: I’ll try it. For you. I’ll give this crazy idea a shot. But we all have to sit down. All three of us. We need to talk about the… the logistics of this thing. Or I’ll lose my mind. A wave of pure, unadulterated relief so powerful it made him dizzy washed over Jordan. He sat bolt upright, a wide, disbelieving grin spreading across his face. He said yes. Well, not yes, but maybe. It was a chance. It was everything. He immediately called Jared, who grunted a sleepy “’Lo?” into the phone. “He’s in,” Jordan said, the words bursting out of him. “Blake. He wants to talk. The three of us. Tonight.” There was a long pause on the other end, filled only with the sound of Jared’s slow, measured breathing. Jordan could picture him, lying in his own bed, processing this new reality. “Okay,” Jared finally said, his voice gruff but clear. “Your place. Seven.” Jordan chose the back patio. It felt neutral, a space that wasn’t exclusively his or tied to any one memory with either of them. The autumn air had a crisp, clean bite to it as the sun dipped below the horizon, and he lit the fire pit in the center of the stone terrace. The flames leapt to life, casting a warm, dancing orange glow over the three patio chairs he’d arranged in a tight circle. A circle, he thought. Appropriate. He felt better knowing Scott was inside, a steady, calm presence just beyond the sliding glass door. A safety net, should he need one. Jared arrived first, as was his way. He looked… apprehensive, his usual confident swagger subdued. He’d changed out of his work clothes into a soft-looking hoodie and dark jeans. He nodded at Jordan, a silent communication passing between them, and took a seat, staring intently into the fire. A few minutes later, the side gate creaked open. Blake stepped through, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. His eyes, looking huge in the flickering light, scanned the scene, lingering on Jared before settling on Jordan. He offered a small, tentative smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hey,” Blake said, his voice quiet. “Hey,” Jordan and Jared said, almost in unison. The synchronicity was jarring. An awkward silence descended, thick and heavy, broken only by the crackle of the fire. Jordan took a deep breath. “So. Logistics.” It was like popping a release valve. The conversation started haltingly, a stilted, painfully practical negotiation that felt at odds with the torrent of emotion that had brought them here. “So, like… who gets what time?” Blake asked, his gaze fixed on the flames, unable to look at either of them. “Do we… schedule this?” “Weekends,” Jared stated, his voice firm. He was looking at Jordan, his expression unreadable. “We each get every other weekend. That’s fair. That’s… structured.” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “And what happens during the week?” Blake pressed, finally looking at Jared. There was a challenge in his eyes. “Do we just… wait our turn?” “We talk,” Jordan interjected, feeling the tension spike between them. “We agreed on honesty. If one of us needs… time… we say it. No secrets.” Jared’s jaw tightened. “And what happens when one of us gets jealous?” he asked, the word hanging in the air like smoke. “Because it’s gonna happen. Let’s not pretend it won’t.” The question landed in the center of the circle, raw and unavoidable. “We talk about that, too,” Jordan said, his voice softer now. He reached out, placing a hand on Jared’s knee. Jared flinched but didn’t pull away. Jordan then looked at Blake, including him in the gesture. “We say it hurts. We admit it. And we… we work through it. Together. Because the alternative is losing each other completely.” The fire popped, sending a shower of sparks into the darkening sky. Blake leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “A night,” he suggested, his voice barely above a whisper. “What about one night, every couple of weeks, where… it’s all three of us?” The air seemed to crackle with a new kind of energy, one far more potent than the fire’s heat. The image bloomed in Jordan’s mind unbidden: the three of them, tangled together in his bed, skin and hands and whispered confessions. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold ran down his spine. He looked at Jared, whose eyes had widened slightly, his lips parted. He wasn’t saying no. He was just… processing. The idea was clearly affecting him, too. Jordan’s own arousal, which had been a low hum in the background since this surreal meeting began, suddenly flared into a sharp, aching need. The discussion of rules and schedules had been a bizarre, clinical prelude to this—the undeniable, electric charge that now arced between the three of them. He could feel it, a live wire connecting their three chairs. The practicalities evaporated from his mind, burned away by a much more primal urge. His gaze swept from Jared’s conflicted, handsome face to Blake’s vulnerable, hopeful one. The firelight played over the lines of their bodies, hinting at the strength and softness beneath their clothes. All the talking was suddenly, spectacularly unimportant. Without another word, Jordan stood up. The movement was decisive, breaking the tense silence. Both men looked up at him, their expressions a mix of confusion and dawning anticipation. His heart was hammering against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat syncopated with the crackle of the fire. He looked from one to the other, his voice dropping to a low, husky register that was barely recognizable as his own. “Enough talking,” he said, the command clear in his tone. “My room. Now.” Chapter 19 The silence in Jordan's bedroom was profound, thick with the weight of what was about to happen and the faint, distant crackle of the fire pit. Jared and Blake stood just inside the door, their body language a mix of uncertainty and raw, pulsing anticipation. They watched him, waiting. For a command. For a sign. Jordan’s heart was a jackhammer against his ribs, but a strange, powerful calm settled over him. This was his. They were his, these beautiful studs. The thought was a lightning strike of pure, unadulterated dominance that straightened his spine and deepened his voice. “Close the door,” he said, the words not a request but a low, even command. Jared was the one who moved, reaching back without breaking eye contact with Jordan to push the door shut with a soft, final click. Jordan held their gazes, letting the tension build, letting them feel the shift in the air. He walked to the edge of his bed and sat down, planting his feet firmly on the floor. He leaned back on his hands, his posture open, commanding. His package visibly swollen through his shorts but not fully erect. “Come here,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky register that made Blake’s breath catch. “Both of you. On your knees.” For a split second, nobody moved. Jordan saw the flicker in Jared’s eyes—a lifetime of being the one in charge, the dominant force between them, warring with the new, intoxicating thrill of submission. It was Blake who broke first, sinking to his knees on the rug with a fluid grace that made Jordan’s mouth water. There levels of submission obvious. After another second of charged silence, Jared followed, his descent slower, more deliberate, his eyes never leaving Jordan’s. The sight of them, both on their knees before him, was the most potent aphrodisiac he’d ever experienced. The feelings pleasure and desire have never felt as strong. “That’s it, Good Boy!” Jordan murmured, his cock already a hard, aching line against his zipper. “Now. Worship my fat cock.” His words hung in the air. Blake’s hands came up first, trembling slightly as they landed on Jordan’s thighs. He leaned forward, nuzzling the denim covering Jordan’s dick, his warm breath seeping through the fabric. Jared watched for a moment longer, his jaw tight, before his own hands came up to join Blake’s, his touch firmer, more possessive, as he rubbed Jordan’s throb through his shorts. Mine, Jordan thought, the word a primal echo in his mind. Both of them. Mine. A low groan rumbled in his chest as their hands worked him, the dual pressure sending jolts of pleasure straight to his core. He could feel the dampness of his own precum beginning to seep through, a dark, tempting spot on the grey fabric. Turning him on even more, if that were even possible. He could never resist touching himself when he felt a wet spot in his underwear “Feel that?” he breathed, looking down at them. “That’s for you. Both of you.” Blake moaned at the words, his eyes fluttering closed as he pressed his face harder against Jordan’s crotch, inhaling deeply. Jared’s eyes darkened, his fingers curling more firmly around Jordan’s shaft. “Fuck, Jordan,” he rasped, his voice rough with want. “Get it out,” Jordan commanded, his own need becoming a sharp, demanding ache. “I want to feel your mouths.” Blake’s hands were a wreck, fumbling with the button and zipper of Jordan’s shorts. He pushed them down just enough, and Jordan’s cock sprang free, thick and flopping, a bead of clear precum already glistening at the tip, ready to drip. The cool air was a shock, but it was nothing compared to the heat of their synchronized, hungry gazes fixed on it. “You're perfect,” Blake whispered, almost reverently, before he leaned in and swiped his tongue across the leaking head. The sensation was electric, a white-hot bolt of pleasure that made Jordan’s hips buck off the bed. “Fuck, Blake…” Jared didn’t wait for another invitation. He moved in, his mouth covering the other side of the shaft, his tongue lapping at the taste of him. Jordan cried out, his head falling back as two hot, wet mouths descended on his cock. They took turns, switching off in a dizzying, devastating rhythm. Blake would suck the head deep, his tongue circling the frenulum, and just as the pleasure began to crest, he’d pull back, letting Jared swallow him down, his technique sloppier, more urgent, deep and gagging. They were sharing up at him. Kissing each other with their movements at the very tip of his dick, their lips and tongues sliding against each other, slick with his precum and their saliva. The visual was almost too much to bear. Swapping his precum between themselves. “Tell me,” Jordan gritted out, his hands tangling in Jared’s hair, then Blake’s, guiding their movements. “Tell me how much you love it.” “I fucking love it, Jordan. I love your thick, leaking cock,” Blake panted against his skin, his breath hitching. “Tastes so good, So fucking good.” “It’s fucking perfect,” Jared growled, taking him deep again, making Jordan choke on a gasp. “Always knew you were packing a fucking weapon.” Their words fueled him, stoking a fire in his belly that threatened to consume him. He was losing himself in the sensation, in the power, but he had a plan. A need. He tightened his grip in their hair, pulling them both back gently but firmly. They looked up at him, lips swollen and wet, eyes glazed with lust and complete submission. “Stand up,” he ordered, his voice thick. “Turn around. Pull your shorts down. And bend over. I want to see your hairy boy holes. I want to see what’s mine.” They scrambled to obey, a frantic, beautiful mess of limbs. Jeans and sweatpants and underwear were shoved down to their knees, and they bent over spreading their cheeks apart, presenting themselves to him. The sight stole the air from his lungs. Jared’s muscular, powerful white ass, and Blake’s smoother, hairy and tighter one, both offered to him, vulnerable and waiting. He stood up, his own shorts falling the rest of the way to the floor. He stepped closer, his gaze raking over them. He spat once, a glob of saliva landing directly on Jared’s tight, clenched hole. Jared jolted at the sensation, a sharp gasp escaping him. “So fucking hot,” Blake whispered, watching from his own bent-over position, his own hole clenching in anticipation. Jordan spat again, this time onto Blake, eliciting a similar, shuddering gasp. He didn’t wait. He pressed his thumb against Jared first, rubbing the spit in, feeling the incredible tightness of him, the frantic pulse of his body. Jared pushed back against the pressure, a low, guttural moan torn from his throat. “You want this big dick?” Jordan asked, working his thumb in just past the first knuckle, the tight ring of muscle straining to accommodate him. “Yes,” Jared hissed, his voice strained. “Fuck, yes, Jordan.” He did the same to Blake, whose reaction was more vocal, a high, desperate whine as Jordan’s finger breached him. “Please….” He fingered them both, one after the other, switching his attention back and forth, stretching them open with first one, then two fingers, watching their bodies yield to him, listening to their broken, pleading moans fill the room. The scent of sex was everywhere, musky and urgent.nl He was rock hard, his own cock leaking a steady stream onto the floorboards. He pulled his fingers free from both of them, and they whimpered at the loss. “Beg for it,” he commanded, stroking his own length, coating it in his precum. “I want to hear you beg for my cock.” “Please, Jordan,” Blake begged immediately, his voice cracking as he pushed his ass back toward him. “I wan it, give it to me! Please fuck my tight hole. ” Jordan’s eyes shifted to Jared, who was breathing heavily, his forehead resting on his arms. “Jared,” Jordan prompted, his tone leaving no room for defiance. Jared lifted his head, his eyes burning with a mix of humiliation and pure, unadulterated need. “Please,” he ground out, the word seeming to cost him everything. “Fuck me. I need you to fuck me, Jordan.” The surrender was absolute. Jordan stepped forward, aligning his slick, aching cock with Jared’s waiting entrance. He placed a hand on the small of Jared’s back, holding him steady. “Mine,” he growled, and with one powerful, relentless thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside his best friend. Jared’s cry was shattered, a raw scream of pleasure-pain that seemed to shake the walls. He was impossibly tight, hot, and perfect. Jordan gave him no time to adjust, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, setting a brutal, pounding rhythm. He fucked into Jared with everything he had, each drive of his hips a claiming, a punishment, a benediction. He leaned over Jared’s back, his eyes locking with Blake’s, who was watching, mesmerized, his own hand frantically stroking his cock. “You see that?” Jordan grunted, pistoning into Jared. “You see how he takes this big cock? How he loves when I fuck his hole?” “Yes,” Blake moaned, his eyes wide. After a few more devastating thrusts, Jordan pulled out of Jared’s shuddering hole, leaving him gasping and empty. He moved the half-step to Blake, not even bothering to spit again, just guiding his wet, sensitive cock to Blake’s entrance. “Your turn,” he breathed, and pushed inside. Blake was tighter, and his cry was higher, more desperate. He clenched around Jordan like a vice, his whole body trembling. Jordan fucked him with the same relentless pace, his hands gripping Blake’s hips, surely leaving bruises. The slide was exquisite, a seamless, wet, hot friction that was rapidly driving him toward the edge. He switched back to Jared, then to Blake, then to Jared again, a delirious, animalistic rhythm of possession. Their moans and pleas were a symphony, each entry met with a grateful, hungry gasp. He could feel his orgasm coiling, a supernova building in the base of his spine. He pulled out of Blake for the last time, his cock throbbing, leaking. “On your knees,” he ordered, his voice ragged and broken. “I’m gonna cum. I want you both to share it.” They scrambled to obey, turning and dropping to their knees before him, their faces upturned, mouths open, eyes desperate. Jared’s was filled with a fierce, possessive pride, Blake’s with worshipful adoration. They were both stroking themselves, their hands a frantic blur on their own cocks, ready to follow him over. Jordan fisted his own dick, his strokes short and brutal. “Open wider,” he panted, and they did, leaning in, their lips inches from his twitching, leaking cockhead. The first spurt hit Jared square on the tongue, a thick, pearly rope that made his eyes roll back in bliss. The second shot landed on Blake’s lower lip, and he instinctively licked it away with a hungry moan. Jordan cried out, his body convulsing, as the third and fourth pulses shot out, painting both their faces, marking them, claiming them. They stayed there, kneeling, their mouths open and waiting for all of it. Every drop. Blake turns to Jared and kisses him. The cum smearing across their lips, passing their reward back and forth staring up at Jordan.

Part 10 It is our sixth and final day of the poz sex tour, and I am showering all the cum of my body, while Mark is fucking Chad in our bed right next door. This trip is crazy; everyone fucks with everyone and we negs are not allowed to refuse anybody. I have been had by almost all the men here, just Pete, a huge, impressive tree of a man hasn’t been interested in me. It bothers me a little, as he is so hot with a heavy body, standing over 6’5 tall, his strength and power obvious. His cock is a beautiful sight to be seen, with a scorpion tattoo on his shaft and impressive 9 inches to take in, but sadly he hasn’t come to me yet. While my cock gets hard about the mental image of Pete, the bathroom door opens and Mark comes in. His hard cock dripping cum lazily on the bathroom floor and glistening with Chad’s ass juice. Mark opens the shower cabin, gives me a kiss on the shoulders and pushes his cock inside me without warning. My hole is open as it has been fucked for almost a week now. ‘I will always try to put my last drop into you’ Mark whispers in my right ear, while he is thrusting heavy into me. It only takes a few minutes until he shoots another load, my cum already washed away by the shower as I came before him. ‘Your hole is so loose now, you really will be able to take every cock in there without preparation.’ ‘Well, I have the best trainers around here’ We kiss deeply, before we finish our shower. Chad has already left, when we leave the bathroom, our bed sheets are full of lube, sperm and ass juice. I see a note on my pillow. Hi Thomas, meet me at 8 pm at my bungalow, don’t be late, I have a cruel treat for you. X Pete I hand it to Mark and his look changes. ‘Well, I didn’t think he would choose you, because he usually goes for the neg twinks, but apparently you won the session with him.’ ‘What do you mean ‘win’, what is this session’ ‘I cannot tell you, we poz guys know about it, but we are prohibited to tell you. He hasn’t done it for two years now, so I am really surprised. You will be fine, but it will be different than this fucking around.’ I swallow hard, nervousness running through my body, while my cock is standing rock hard for attention. Pete opens the door and invites me into his bungalow. His partner is currently being fucked by the pool, apparently this ‘session’ is only for him and me. ‘Hi Thomas, get undressed and lay yourself on the bed’ It isn’t a question, but an order. I follow his instructions and put myself naked on his bed. He then takes my hands and chains them to the bed post, which have metal rings in them. He does the same with my feet making it impossible to move my position. Pete looks at me and admires the scene he sees. ‘Thomas, we will start slow, but this will hurt and after it you will be poz, I promise.’ I swallow silently, looking in his eyes. With a small nod I signal my agreement. He spits on his hand and starts to massage my hole with his fingers. Ignoring my face, body or cock completely. Within in seconds he pushes his fingers inside me, changing rapidly between them, probably scratching my insides with his nails. Suddenly, he stops. Stands up and gets undressed, his body magnificent, his hard cock pointing at me like a weapon. The scorpion ready to sting. But he doesn’t position himself at my hole, he walks to a closet and gets something metal out of it. With a smile he puts it over his cock, and that’s when I realise, he just put a cruel condom on himself. When he has finally managed to put it completely over his cock his looks at me. ‘Thomas, this will tear your insides apart and you will be finally able to receive our gifts. I cannot let you leave here still neg, so open up.’ With no lube or warning he positions himself at my hole and pushes his full toxic cock inside me. I feel the cruel condom tearing my flesh inside me, his cock relentlessly thrusting. My whole body reacts, it tears at the chains, but Pete holds me in place and just keeps fucking me more violently. After a few minutes he takes his cock out of my hole and frees it from the cruel condom. As he shows it to me, I can see blood and a little skin on it. But not just my insides seem to be torn apart, also his cock has small cuts all over. ‘Now, you are ready to take our poz seeds’ ‘What you mean…’ but he puts his hands over my mouth, silencing me for good. ‘You will not talk, not until I tell you to’ He goes back to my hole and thrusts his cock back inside me. My hole wet from the treatment before. Pete looks at me the whole time, while he is fucking me very hard, which causes my body to fight against him. But he keeps me in place and shortly before he is about to come, I finally get his body to know completely. He let himself fall forwards, now his whole-body weight pressing down on me. A surprisingly loving kiss takes my mind of the pain, leaving only pleasure. His cock starts to pulsate, my ass instinctively pulling him closer inside. As he is about to come, he grabs my hips, preparing himself for the final push, which happens with a loud primal moan of him. Pete shoots his toxic load inside me, his cum now combining with my blood. This feels different, something else happened tonight and I think it might be my day of conversation. Pete gives me a final kiss before his dick leaves my body. ‘That was great Thomas, you are a natural, now let’s make sure you get the gift… guys he is ready’ His last words were screamed to the front door of his bungalow, and it opened suddenly, all poz men entering the bungalow. Chad and Mark at the end. Mark looked at me proud and full of love, but his view was blocked by another man immediately, who pushes his cock inside my hole. I had all of those men cocks inside me in the last days, but never in one fuck. This changes tonight as I will receive poz loads from all of them at once. Mark is the final one and Pete offers him the cruel condom. He is the only one of the men, who got this offer from Pete. I watch as Mark puts it carefully on his cock and positions himself to fuck me with it. I see that it is his first time with a condom like that… maybe a condom in general, I’m not sure. Before he starts to fuck me, he bends down to my ear and whispers: ‘I love you, let’s hope we can finally make your toxic dream come true’ I look in his eyes full of love as he enters my ass with his covered cock. There is no pain any more, my hole is stretched and prepared for it all. Mark looks at Pete, who leaves us alone for this final fuck of the day. With every thrust Mark becomes wilder, and opposite to Pete he doesn’t seem to want to take the condom off. We fuck this way for a long time, but then Mark pushes with a violent thrust inside me, shooting his toxic seed through the cruel condom into me. He collapses onto me, his head on my chest, listening to my racing heartbeat. ‘Thomas, this was something else.’ I just nod, still not ready to talk. Mark gets up, his cock sliding out of my beaten hole. As he takes the cruel condom off, I see the cuts on his foreskin and penis head. He calls for Pete, who loosens the chains and gives me a final kiss, before asking me about my thoughts. I need a moment to collect myself and find the right words. ‘It was something else, something strong and powerful. I… I might be wrong, but it changed something in me, and I feel it is the virus finally entering my body for good. Pete, I think you pozzed me tonight’ With those words I take the hand of Mark and we walk back to our bungalow, both understanding that something has changed.

Chapter 13 The silence in Jordan’s bedroom was thick, heavy with the scent of sex and revenge. Scott had left with a final, knowing look, leaving Jordan alone with the phantom vibrations of the sent text message. He stared at his phone, the screen dark now, waiting. The adrenaline that had fueled his actions was ebbing, leaving a hollow, shaky feeling in its wake. What have I done? A sudden, violent pounding on the front door shattered the quiet. Jared. It wasn’t a polite knock. It was a demand. A threat. The sound echoed through the still house, a frantic drumbeat that matched the sudden frantic rhythm of Jordan’s heart. He pulled his shorts back up, his skin still tingling, and moved on unsteady legs toward the living room. He pulled the door open, and there he was. Jared stood on the porch, chest heaving, his face a mask of fury and something else, something raw and wild Jordan couldn’t immediately name. His eyes were blazing, his phone clutched in a white-knuckled fist at his side. The video was still playing on its screen, a tiny, silent, damning loop of Scott’s release. “What the fuck is this, Jordan?” Jared’s voice was low, a tremble of barely controlled rage underlying each word. He didn’t wait for an answer. He shoved past Jordan into the living room, the force of his entry making Jordan stumble back a step. “You sent me a fucking video of your stepdad jerking off,” Jared spat, whirling around to face him. “Are you insane? What is wrong with you?” The hollow feeling vanished, incinerated by a fresh wave of defensive anger. “What’s wrong with me?” Jordan shot back, squaring his shoulders. “I know what I heard at your house, Jared. I know who was in your bed. Don’t you dare stand there and act like I’m the crazy one.” Jared’s expression flickered, a flash of guilt quickly smothered by renewed anger. “So this is your solution? You fuck my boss? You send me a porno of it?” “We didn’t fuck!” The denial was out before Jordan could stop it, too quick, too defensive. We just got off on the idea of it, on hurting you. He saw the instant Jared processed the distinction, his eyes narrowing. “You just… what? Had a mutual jerk-off session? That’s supposed to be better?” Jared took a step closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming the space between them. The air crackled. “You did this to get back at me.” “Yeah,” Jordan admitted, his own voice dropping, losing its heat and gaining a dark, confessional tone. “I did. You hurt me. I wanted to hurt you back. It felt… good.” Jared stared at him, his breathing still ragged. The fury in his eyes was slowly being diluted by confusion, by a dawning, shocking understanding. His gaze dropped from Jordan’s face, trailing down his body, and Jordan knew, with a sudden, visceral certainty, what he was seeing. The memory of the video. The image of Scott. The raw, unfiltered masculinity of it. Jared’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. The anger wasn’t gone, but it was… shifting. Transforming. His eyes, when they lifted back to meet Jordan’s, held a new, terrifying heat. “It felt good,” Jared repeated, not a question, but a low, fascinated statement. He took another step, closing the distance until they were almost chest to chest. Jordan could feel the heat radiating from his body, could see the rapid pulse beating at the base of his throat. “Watching him. Making him do that for you. It turned you on.” Jordan couldn’t look away. He could only nod, a tiny, jerky motion. “It turned me on,” Jared whispered, the admission ripped from him, harsh and honest. The confession hung between them, a live wire. All the jealousy, the betrayal, the rage—it all funneled into that single, electrifying point. They weren't two guys arguing anymore. They were two animals, circling, driven by a need that was bigger than reason. Jared’s hand came up, not to shove, but to grip the back of Jordan’s neck. His fingers were warm, possessive. “You wanted a reaction?” he murmured, his voice gravelly, his breath ghosting over Jordan’s lips. “You got one.” And then he kissed him. It was nothing like their previous kisses. There was no tenderness, no exploration. This was a clash. A claiming. Jared’s mouth was hard and demanding on his, his tongue plunging inward with a desperation that felt like violence. Jordan met him with equal force, his own hands coming up to fist in Jared’s shirt, holding him there, accepting the punishment, the apology, the desperate, fucked-up desire all at once. They stumbled backward, a tangled mess of limbs and furious energy, until the back of Jordan’s knees hit the arm of the couch and they spilled onto it. Jared landed on top of him, his weight familiar and anchoring. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down Jordan’s jaw to his neck, sucking a bruise into the skin there that would bloom purple by morning. A mark. Proof. “You’re such an asshole,” Jared growled against his throat, his hips grinding down, the hard ridge of his erection pressing insistently against Jordan’s through their clothes. “You’re a bigger one,” Jordan gasped out, arching up into the pressure, his own cock throbbing in response. The friction was maddening, not nearly enough. His hands scrabbled at Jared’s waistband, desperate. Jared sat back, kneeling over him, his eyes dark with a possessive fire Jordan had never seen before. He grabbed the hem of his own shirt and ripped it over his head, tossing it aside. His chest was heaving, his muscles taut. “You want to show me what I’m missing?” he challenged, his voice dripping with a new kind of intent. “Then show me.” He leaned down, his hands going to the button of Jordan’s shorts. He didn’t fumble. He made quick, rough work of it, yanking the fabric down Jordan’s thighs in one sharp movement. Jordan’s cock sprang free, already fully hard, dripping onto his stomach. Jared’s gaze locked onto it, his lips parting slightly. The anger was still there, simmering, but it was now entirely wrapped in a blinding, all-consuming lust. “Mine,” he said, the word a low growl of possession. He didn’t use his hands. He lowered his head, and his mouth, hot and wet and impossibly skilled, enveloped Jordan in a single, devastating motion. Jordan cried out, his back bowing off the couch. Oh, god. It was different from before. This wasn’t the experimental, curious blowjob from their first night. This was… vengeance. This was claiming territory. Jared’s tongue worked him with a brutal, exquisite expertise, swirling around the head before plunging down again, taking him deep, until Jordan felt the head of his cock hit the back of Jared’s throat. Jared’s hands pinned Jordan’s hips to the couch, holding him still, forcing him to take every devastating inch. The sight was unbelievable—Jared, his best friend, the guy he’d just tried to destroy, between his legs, sucking his cock like his life depended on it. Like he was starving for it. The incoherent, pleading sounds falling from Jordan’s lips only seemed to spur Jared on. He moaned around Jordan’s length, the vibration shooting through Jordan like lightning. His own hips began to move in tiny, helpless thrusts, fucking up into that perfect, hot wetness. He was losing control, teetering on the edge far too quickly, the combined emotional whiplash and physical sensation shattering his composure. “Jared… fuck… I’m gonna…” Jared pulled off with a wet, obscene pop, a string of saliva connecting his lips to Jordan’ glistening tip. His own breathing was ragged, his eyes glassy with need. He looked wrecked, and it was the most beautiful thing Jordan had ever seen. “Not yet,” Jared commanded, his voice hoarse. He shoved his own jeans and boxers down just enough to free his own thick, eight-inch cock. It curved upward, flushed a deep red, leaking copiously. He spat into his palm, a crude, primal gesture, and fisted his own length, stroking once, twice, his eyes locked on Jordan’s. “You wanted to play games?” Jared panted, shifting his weight. He positioned himself over Jordan, the head of his cock pressing against Jordan’s, sliding through the slickness there. “Let’s play.” He lowered his body, his cock aligning perfectly with Jordan’s. Their lengths slid together, a hot, velvety friction that made them both gasp. Jared’s hand wrapped around both of them, his grip firm, and he began to stroke. Oh. My. God. It was an entirely new kind of pleasure. The feel of Jared’s thicker skin sliding against his own, the way their precum mixed to form a slick, perfect lubricant, the overwhelming visual of their bodies joined like this. Jordan’s hands flew to Jared’s ass, gripping the hard muscle there, pulling him closer, grinding up against him, needing more, more, more. Jared’s forehead dropped against his, their ragged breaths mingling. His strokes became faster, more frantic, his hips pistoning, fucking his cock against Jordan’s in a sublime, frantic rhythm. “This what you wanted?” Jared grunted, his voice strained, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration. “This what you thought about when you made that video?” “Yes,” Jordan moaned, his own climax building again, a tidal wave of sensation. “Fuck, Jared, just like that…” “You’re mine,” Jared growled again, a final, desperate declaration as his rhythm began to stutter. “You hear me? Mine.” The possessive words were the final trigger. Jordan’s orgasm exploded out of him with a guttural cry, his cum shooting up between their sweat-slicked chests in hot, pulsing streaks. The feel of Jordan climaxing sent Jared over the edge a second later. He threw his head back with a choked roar, his own release joining Jordan’s, painting their stomachs in a messy, shared proof of their fucked-up, undeniable connection. They collapsed together onto the couch, a tangled, sticky, breathless heap. The only sound was their harsh, labored breathing. Jared’s weight was a comforting pressure on top of him. Jordan could feel the frantic beat of Jared’s heart against his own chest, slowly beginning to steady. After a long moment, Jared shifted, propping himself up on an elbow. He looked down at Jordan, his expression unreadable, his eyes tracing the mess on both their bodies. He reached out, his thumb brushing through the cooling cum on Jordan’s stomach. He brought his thumb to his own lips, never breaking eye contact, and slowly, deliberately, licked it clean. A shiver racked Jordan’s entire body. Jared’s voice was quiet, awed, and utterly wrecked. “What are we doing, Jordan?” Jared’s phone buzzed sharply on the coffee table, the sound cutting through the heavy, post-climax silence. He hesitated, his thumb still resting on Jordan’s stomach, before reluctantly reaching for it. Jordan watched as Jared’s expression shifted from dazed to focused, his brow furrowing as he read the screen. “Who is it?” Jordan asked, his voice hoarse. Jared didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he handed the phone to Jordan, allowing him to see the message from Blake: Miss me yet? Has our video made any money online yet? Jordan’s eyes widened. “What the hell is this?” Jared exhaled sharply, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Blake and I… we’ve been making videos. For extra cash.” “Videos?” Jordan sat up slowly, his stomach churning with a mix of shock and curiosity. “Like… porn?” Jared nodded, his jaw tightening. “It started as a joke, you know? Just fucking around. But then people started paying. A lot.” “How much is ‘a lot’?” Jordan asked, his voice lowering, a strange, almost predatory interest creeping into his tone. Jared hesitated again, his gaze locked on Jordan’s. “Enough to cover rent. Food. Whatever we need.” He paused, his voice dropping even further. “Sometimes… more.” Jordan’s mind raced. The implications were huge. All this time, Jared had been keeping this secret—this lucrative, dangerous secret. And now, because of that damn video with Scott, he was tangled up in it too. “So… what?” Jordan said slowly, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re saying there’s money in this? Real money?” Jared’s eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of something else—anticipation, maybe. “Yeah. There is. Why? You interested?” The question hung in the air between them, heavy with possibility. Jordan leaned back against the couch, his heart pounding. This wasn’t just about revenge anymore. This was about opportunity. About power. And maybe, just maybe, about something more. “Maybe,” Jordan said finally, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside him. “But if we’re doing this… we’re doing it my way.”

*ATTN: mods / censors. The following isn't aimed at any one person on here in particular. It's aimed at more of a whole at a certain audience, but in this case, not anyone\nIn particular on a personal level. This is just me venting my thoughts and feelings. This is just in case you want to hit me with yet another trumped up "Not Being Polite to Members" charge and throw me in "BZ jail." Okay. And let's not mention or say a word about the constant lies, the blue anon conspiracy theories, the smear campaigns, in a heaping load of fictional, and the heaping, regurgitated, never ending diarrhea of the mouth liar horseshit that come from the democrats, and worst and no more so, the fucking radical retards that fill the ranks of the "progressive" left and their socialist idealisms which I for one, will NEVER support, not only because socialism doesn't fucking work, but also because the United States of America is not a socialist country and I for one will always vote, and if need be fight to the death against my country becoming one. Go to the UK if you like your socialism so much. Enjoy their freedoms where the police knock on your door and arrest you for some comment you made on social media that's deemed "offensive" because, well..."feelings." "You're under arrest because someones or some groups feelings were hurt because you stated something "offensive" online." We have a thing called the 1st amendment in this country, and YES, that includes "hate speech" and no -I don't condone it or encourage it, but free speech is FREE SPEECH. Period! If you want , conditions placed on free speech, there's plenty of other countries you can go to that cater to that kind of thing. GO THERE. Don't try to push it here. A quit crying about free speech or rights being taken away to free speech while trying to censor other people because you don't like or agree what they say. That's the epitome, the pinnacle of double standards and hypocrisy. Radical leftoids, woke libs, and socialist loving commies: Take that bullshit agenda somewhere else. Despite your best efforts, the United States of America will never be a socialist country, at least not while I'm alive and living here as a proud US citizen (yeah, "sorry" but not really, *I LOVE MY COUNTRY* and if you don't, fine, DONT. But we're not gonna be a socialist country. Not when the midterms come around. Not in the next presidential election. NEVER. So you might as well pack your fucking bags if you don't like it here, and blow your ass the fuck out of here and take your open borders wet dream with you. Illegal immigrant TRESPASSERS don't have a right to be here. They don't get a free pass and get cut in line just because they "work hard" and/or are just trying to "live a better life." SO ARE AMERICAN CITIZENS. THEY COME FIRST AN ILLEGAL MIGRANTS AREN'T WELCOMED HERE. Personally, i don't care who you vote for or what your political views are, and\nYou can make whatever assumptions you want about me. I could give two shits and a rat's ass what you're misconceived notions or any weak baseless assumptions are about me. I could care less i'm more than willing to talk about it. But I've HAD IT with the hypocrisy, double standards and bold face fucking LIES from the dems, their supporters, the *REGRESSIVE* left. I'M SICK OF YOUR LIES! I'm sick of your fucking bullshit! And stop acting like you're the voice of LGB people and that you speak for the "gay community." YOU'RE NOT. Forgive me if I come off a little strong and blunt (Or dont. I don't give a shit "Sincerely", an openly gay, legal American citizen who's FED THE FUCK UP with your bullshit! P.S. ~You're the CULT. The REAL CULT Not the other way around. Everything you accuse your "enemies" of doing, YOU'RE THE ONES DOING IT.

Chapter 11 The warm weight of Scott’s hand on his, the raw honesty of his story, the smoky burn of the whiskey—it all coalesced into a single, throbbing point of heat in Jordan’s gut. He was completely unaware of the effect it was having on his body, the blood rushing south so fast it left him lightheaded. His thin basketball shorts, worn without underwear as always, provided no defense. A fierce, six-inch erection tented the fabric, the tip already damp with a bead of precum that seeped through the grey cotton, leaving a tiny, dark patch. He only realized his own state when he traced Scott’s gaze. Those dark, intense eyes weren’t on his face anymore. They were fixed, unblinking, on the prominent bulge in his lap. Jordan’s own eyes flicked down, then back up to Scott’s khakis. A mirror image. A thick, heavy outline strained against the tan fabric, unmistakable and just as eager. Seconds stretched, thick and silent, charged with a current so potent Jordan could barely breathe. Scott was the one to break it, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that vibrated through the space between them. “I’ve been like this,” he admitted, his eyes flicking back up to meet Jordan’s, “Hard as a goddamn rock… all day. Ever since I…” He didn’t need to finish. Ever since I saw you. Something primal and fearless uncoiled inside Jordan, speaking with a voice that wasn’t entirely his own. “Did you like it?” The question hung in the air, bold and naked. “What you saw? You...want to see more?” Scott’s answer was immediate, a raw exhalation. “Yes.” A thrill, sharp and electric, shot down Jordan’s spine. “My room,” he whispered, the plan forming in a hazy, lust-drunk instant. “Wait until Mom’s asleep. Come to my room.” An hour later, the house was dark and silent. The soft click of his door opening sent Jordan’s heart into a wild rhythm. Scott stood there, silhouetted in the doorway, having traded his button-down for a simple pair of black gym shorts that did little to hide the formidable swell of his cock. He stepped inside and closed the door with a quiet, final sound. Jordan’s nerves were a live wire, his hands trembling slightly. He didn’t know what he was doing, only what he wanted. He fumbled for his phone on the nightstand, his thumb swiping until he found the video. He turned the screen toward Scott. It was the clip Jared had recorded. Jordan on his knees, lips stretched around Blake’s thick, curved cock, his eyes rolled back in pleasure. Scott’s eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. He stared, mesmerized, as the movie played out on the small screen. Jordan watched him instead, studying the rapid flicker of emotions on his stepdad’s face: shock, hunger, pure, unadulterated lust. His own hand slipped inside his shorts, fingers wrapping around his aching hardness. A soft groan escaped his lips as he gave himself a slow, slick stroke. Scott’s gaze snapped from the screen to Jordan’s hand moving under his shorts. That was all the permission he needed. With a guttural sound, Scott’s large hand plunged into his own gym shorts. His eyes fell shut for a moment, his head tipping back as his fist began to move, the fabric stretching and tightening over his frantic motion. He was the first to break the barrier. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband, he pushed his shorts down his powerful thighs in one rough motion. His cock sprang free, and Jordan’s mouth went dry. It was massive, thick and cut, rising from a dense thatch of dark hair. Heavy balls swung beneath it, already drawn up tight. A glistening pearl of precum already crowned the slit. Emboldened, Jordan mimicked him, shoving his own shorts down to his ankles. They stood there, just feet apart, their erections bobbing in the dim light, the only sound their ragged breathing and the wet, rhythmic stroking of their own fists. Scott’s eyes were locked on Jordan’s smaller, slick cock, watching the way his hand glided over the flushed head with each pass. “So wet,” Scott murmured, his own strokes becoming louder, slicker, sloppy sounding. “You too,” Jordan breathed out, mesmerized by the sheer, glistening size of the older man, by the way his thick fingers struggled to close around his girth. The visual was overwhelming—the contrast of their bodies, the [banned word] of it all, the raw hunger in Scott’s eyes. His hips began to thrust forward, fucking his own fist. “Fuck, this is so hot.” “Yeah, it has to be our little secret.” Scott grunted, his pace increasing, his other hand cupping and roughly kneading his heavy balls. “Just like that. Show me. Let me see you get off.” The command, so similar to Jared’s yet so entirely different, sent Jordan spiraling. His back arched, his free hand gripping his own thigh for support. He was close, so close, teetering on the edge. Scott was breathing in harsh gasps, his muscular body tensing, a sheen of sweat coating his chest. “I’m close, I'm so close. I'm cumm…!” Jordan choked out, his orgasm roaring up from his toes. Scott’s hand flew off his own cock and clamped over his own mouth, stifling a deep, guttural roar as his hips thrust into empty air. Thick, white ropes of cum shot from his pulsating cock, landing in his own waiting palm, pumping again and again until his hand was overflowing. The sight was Jordan’s undoing. With a cry that was half-sob, half-moan, his own release tore through him. His cum splattered across his stomach and thighs in hot, frantic spurts, his entire body trembling with the force of it. For a long moment, the only sound was their heavy, spent panting. Scott, still holding his messy hand away from himself, gathered his composure with a sharp, almost military precision. He cleaned himself with a tissue from the nightstand, pulled up his shorts, and without another word, turned and left the room, made the "Shh" gesture wit his finger to his mouth, closing the door softly behind him. Jordan collapsed back onto his bed, the scent of sex and whiskey and man thick in the air. His mind was a blissful, overloaded blank. Exhaustion pulled him under, and he fell into a deep, instant sleep, his body sated and his world irrevocably changed.

Part 9 I can’t believe that out of all the hot poz guys here, Chad is the one, who was chosen to fuck me. After we arrived at the resort, which was fully booked by our group, we had to take a test to determine our status. Sadly, I am still neg, even after weeks of fucking poz guys in all varieties, but I wasn’t the only one. There were four other men, who were neg, but shared the desire to be pozzed. Michael, a French bodybuilder in his late 40s and self-described power bottom has been to this tour for three years but never managed to get the bug. His husband Alexander has been poz for over a decade now, but Michael just seems to be immune, the poor guy. Then there was Benji, a mid-20 something Latino man, who has been chasing for over a year. His best friend is a freshly pozzed guy named Sam, who got the bug on this tour last year. Lastly, there was Liam, the ‘sugar daddy’ of Chad, but that description is ridiculous as he is younger than me, just turned 30. Those three and I were the neg guys, who needed to be introduced to the poz way, and apparently, that meant being fucked by the youngest poz guy around. Of course, Chad, being the youngest of the group chose me without hesitation. As I wanted to protest Mark whispered to me to stay calm as I was not allowed to refuse him. So, after the other youngsters have chosen their neg holes, all of them needed to go to a room accompanied by at least two other men of the group. In the end I found myself in the cabin of Chad with Mark and Fred, another mid-30-something Latino and apparently friend of Chad, watching us. Chad ordered me to strip for him, and I did as I was told, but focused my gaze mostly on Mark, who encouraged me to keep going by taking his cock out and stroking it. Fred took a phone out of his pocket and started recording or taking photos, I don’t mind being filmed, so this didn’t bother me at all. After a few minutes only my cock was still covered by small silver thong – originally a surprise for Mark – Chad pulled my down on his lap, his cock hard through his pants. He switched our positions, sat me on the chair and started to strip for me now. He started with his pants, which confused me, but as he finally took of his T-Shirt, I knew why he kept it for last: a new vibrant biohazard tattoo marking his stomach. I am so mesmerised by the tattoo, that it takes me a moment to realise Chad is positioning his cock at my mouth. My mind comes back to reality, but the tattoo has driven all hesitations away and with a primal urge I push myself against his cock and take all of it in my mouth, precum hitting my tongue. Chad’s cock really is lovely, it is big and girthy without being threatening, I have to admit, this cock could fuck me all day in and out. While I suck Chad off, I lose all feeling for time and space, being yanked to the bed and suddenly penetrated by this hot poz cock. Chad changes our positions forcefully and a little clumsy, but he finally finds a good rhythm, when I am on all fours and he is thrusting relentlessly inside me. Mark is now watching us with lust and envy, while Fred keeps pointing his phone at us. ‘Smile, you little neg bitch, this is the moment you get converted, enjoy it’ Fred yells. Even as I despise him instinctively a smile shows on my face, a smile I see in the mirror on the opposite wall full of lust, hunger and ecstasy. The words of Fred turn Chad on, and his cock starts to flex inside me. With a loud, guttural moan he shoots his toxic poz load inside me, collapsing on top of me. ‘That was great Thomas… I hope my seed is the one converting you.’ The he gets closer to my ear, whispering ‘you would be carrying a fabulous strain as your little brother is fucking my gift giver at the moment’ I was too exhausted to register all the words, but Mark heard them and looked bewildered. ‘Tony? Do you mean Tony pozzed you?’ Mark asked perplexed. ‘Yes, exactly, he was the only guy I was hooking up with the last months, despite Luke of course, so I guess if this knock up worked, we will become quite the poz family.’ Now I am lying in my bed, Mark beside me and we both are talking about Chad, Tony and Luke. But our discussion is interrupted by a phone call from Luke. ‘Hey, little brother, what’s up?’ ‘I got a picture from Chad a few minutes ago, how was that dick the second time?’ I am unsure if he is angry or teasing, so I decide to pretend all is good. ‘You know, Chad really is a great fuck, but I would have loved to be poz-fucked by someone else today. Are you angry?’ ‘Angry? No, don’t worry about it. It’s sex, Tony and I talked about it, he fucked him too a few months ago, apparently, he might have given him the bug.’ ‘Yeah, Chad told me. I am still neg, so if I convert because of this fuck, Tony would be my gift giver too.’ ‘Well, that would be crazy. Maybe we both will be brothers carrying the same strain of HIV, wow that would be hot.’ ‘Luke, that would be great, but at the moment I am not even sure, when it finally will happen for me. I have been fucking poz guys for weeks now and nothing.’ ‘Hey, don’t be a downer, remember, you gave me the article about bug chasing and what was one of the main key points?... it can take months or years to get the gift.’ ‘You’re right little brother, but how is it on your end? Are you okay with being off PrEP?’ ‘It is wild, I am horny all the time, today I took a couple of anon poz loads at the beach and it felt so exhilarating, so right. This is the right path for me; I am a full-blown bug chaser now.’ ‘That’s great to hear. I feel it too, you just become more alive, more yourself.’ ‘Exactly, now we just have to see, who will be poz first of the two of us.’ ‘Well, may the best slut win’ Luke laughs and then we end the call, I turn to Mark, who has fallen asleep. I turn of the light, snuggling myself into a hug with him, while the cum of Chad slowly starts to drop out of my hole.

Part 8 I smile at the picture of Mark sleeping on Thomas’ shoulder, before I put the phone back into my pocket. They are heading to a poz sex tour, whatever that is, but for me it is going to be another kind of poz adventure today. Tony is driving us to a private gay beach, his gift giver Alan has recommended. I haven’t met Alan yet, but he sounds like a fun guy. The drive takes over an hour, but Tony and I enjoy the scenery around us. Finally, we arrive in front of an iron gate, which opens as soon as we drive into view of the camera. Tony had to register his number plate beforehand. As we park the car a naked older man comes to us and greets us with a big bear hug. ‘Welcome to Paradize, My name is Beau, Alan told me to hold an eye out for you two.’ ‘Hey’ Tony and I say a little nervous. I look around and see a sign on the wall. Three simple rules: No clothes no condoms no negativity ‘Oh, yes, our rules. I think they are easy to follow, condoms only produce litter, why would anyone want those at the beach. For the clothes, there are changing rooms over there as well as lockers, but of course you could also change here at the car park and put everything in your car. For the negativity part, I guess Alan told you, that this is a private beach for poz men and their friends.’ ‘Ah, not really, he just said, we would have fun’ Tony answers for us both ‘Oh, put one of you is poz, right?’ ‘Yeah, that would be me, Tony … nice to meet you’ ‘You too’ Beau says ‘so, that would mean you are Luke and you are neg at the moment.’ ‘That’s right’ I say, ‘is this a problem?’ ‘Not at all, but you just have to wear this wristband. It shows to the others that you are neg, some of our visitors only want to have sex with other poz men, so they probably won’t come to you. But others are quite horny to get some neg cock and ass, that’s why I think you will be popular today.’ ‘Oh, that sound like great fun’ ‘It is you two, now get out of those clothes and head to the beach, and a day full of sun, water, sex and pozzibilities. Have fun.’ While we walk naked to the beach, I look at the blue wristband, which makes me feel a little nervous, but Tony takes my hand, and I start to relax. I have been off PrEP now for ten days, even though, I only managed to tell my brother yesterday. But I needed to be sure first, and taking Tony’s poz cock every day for the last week just felt right. The beach is beautiful, we look for a perfect spot to relax, but there are already a lot of naked men, lying around. We decide to put our towels in the middle of the hustle, as we are both slowly getting hard. While we make ourselves comfortable, a man steps behind me, his shadow falling over me. He started to put his hand on my lower back, but I turned around rather quickly, and now his hand lies above my cock. I feel his strong and rough hands on my skin, before I manage to look him into his hazel eyes. He looks hot, my cock betraying me as it becomes rock-hard immediately, but his body is just perfection. Not the gym kind of muscle guy, but muscles because of hard work. The roughness of his hands, the lines in his face, the strength in his shoulders. This is a man of purpose, a man of power. He probably is around 40, twice my age, but I fancy him, a lot. Without uttering a single word, he takes my hand and guides me to his towel, which shows a big biohazard symbol. I sit myself down, but he positions me on my back. He pulls my legs apart and lets his body fall slowly down on me. When we are face to face, his eyes wander over my face, before he changes his position slightly, his cock now on my hole. No words have been spoken so far, when I finally want to say something, his mouth meets mine. It is his tongue that penetrates me first, reaching deep into my mouth. My hands slide over his back until they have reached his butt, I signal him with a lustful pull, that he can fuck me now. He didn’t need the encouragement; with slow and considerate pushes he puts pressure on my hole. Suddenly, my body opens up for him, and the tip of his cock enters my ass. But as soon as I am open, he lets all the gentleness go. After the tip he slams his dry cock inside me, his balls hitting my ass, while pain and pleasure run through my body. With increased speed and force he fucks me rough, pushing his cock deeper. As he changes positions again, now holding my legs in his hands, while he focusses on his cock entering me relentlessly, I realise that I am getting fucked in the middle of a beach. I turn my head slightly to the left and see a few men masturbate, while on the right a lot of them just keep going on with their conversations. Sadly, I cannot see Tony, as our spot is over my head. This moment of clarity also brings to me the realisation, that this man is poz, as he is not wearing a blue wristband. So, this man is the first poz cock after Tony, that fucks me since I’m off PrEP, he might be the one to convert me or give the gift, and I have no idea who he is. Another change in position brings me back to the fuck. The man has now put one of my legs over his should, while he pushes the other to the side. My hole is more exposed than before, and his cock slide in more deeply. He increases his thrust again, and starts to lean forward, bringing his body and my leg towards my chest. With a primal look his eyes focus on my face and he kisses me again, my leg pressed between our bodies. I feel his cock twitching, understanding that this poz man will shoot his toxic load inside me. Again, he increases his thrusting and with a final push he comes deep inside me, his warm toxic cum buried deep. He pulls out immediately and offers me his cock for cleaning. I sit myself up, taking his beautiful cock into my mouth licking the mixture of poz cum, ass juice and sweat. As I finally let his cock leave my mouth I notice a small scorpion tattoo on his hip, buried under his pubic hair. He kisses me a final time, and then he lays down on his towel, apparently done with me. I get up and want to walk back to Tony, but my towel and Tony are occupied as he is getting fucked by a massive bodybuilder. A little unsure what to do, with the cum of the last fuck still inside me, I turn around to the men, who masturbated while I was getting fucked. My instinct was right, they waved me to come to them, so I did. In less than a minute I have my second cock of the day in my ass and another in my mouth. Apparently, the man, who has his cock up my ass is Aaron, a big beefy bear, probably in his early 30s. He is incredibly hairy, especially his back, with a huge cock and a shining biohazard tattoo on his hip. In my mouth I have his husband, Darren, a skinny, smooth twink my age. After the silent fuck of the man before, Aaron startles me as he starts to dirty talk, but I get into the rhythm rather quickly. ‘Well, you little bug chaser slut, let me knock you up. My husband has already gotten the gift from me, so you will receive it too. I’m quite the twink converter.’ ‘Yes, Aaron, give it to me. Fuck me. Shoot you toxic poz load inside me.’ ‘Come on hubby, knock him up, this little slut works hard for your poz cum, so give it to him’ The talk turns us three into wild animals, despite rough almost violent thrusting inside my holes, they also scratch and bite my back, shoulders and ass. Darren, takes his cock out of my mouth to position himself below me, now sucking me off, I bend further down, retaking his cock in my mouth. It only takes us two a few minutes to shoot our loads while 69ing. His cum tastes very sweet, I make sure to swallow every little drop of it. He also takes all my cum into his mouth, but he doesn’t swallow. He comes to my face and gives me a deep kiss, making sure I swallow almost all of my own cum, which is a little bitter, but still fucking tasty. Aaron is still fucking me, while we two snowball each other, but I feel his cock twitching inside me, getting ready to take another poz load today. He takes me by the arms and pulls my back towards his hairy chest, when he positioned me as he wanted, his arms wrapped around my body to hold me in place. I can feel all the eyes of the men on the beach on me as Aaron increases his thrusting. With a final push against my ass, his load of toxic cum is shot into my ass. It takes him almost eleven shoots to empty his balls completely inside me. During that time he bit me in my shoulder again, this time leaving stronger marks. I fall back on all fours, getting an encouraging slap on the ass from Aaron. ‘That was great, we should do this again, we are here the whole day’ I make my way back to my towel, which is now free. Tony lying happily on his own. As I sit myself down, I feel something sticky on my ass, apparently the guys who fucked Tony left a souvenir for me on my towel. So, the slut I am I lick it clean as no load can go to waste. Tony laughs and then gives me a deep kiss. Within minutes we two are fucking each other, enjoying the feeling of being watched. We stay at the beach until late afternoon and leave with a lot more loads inside us, a second and third from Aaron and Darren. My hole is wracked, and all the cum is dripping out freely while I walk back to the car. I hand in my blue wristband, hoping that the next time I won’t need it any more. While we are on the way back home, my phone rings. I have gotten two new messages, one from Mark and one from Chad, which is weird as Chad and I haven’t spoken for two weeks now. The one from Mark reads: Hi Luke, just to let you know we have landed safely. We will talk to you tomorrow, apparently Thomas has to be initiated as he is one of only four neg men here. Hope you had fun at the beach. The other is from Chad: Hi, Lukey, guess who is on the same poz sex tour as your one and only former fuckbuddy. Right, you 'straight' brother and he lost initiation today, but see for yourself. I reluctantly open a picture he has send me, and on it I see Chad, now with a fresh biohazard tattoo around his belly button, fucking my smiling brother.

I nut deep in the fag’s pussy and then give it a few more pumps to make sure my nut gets worked into the fag’s pussy

RAW IS LAW I refuse to be fucked by a top that wears a condom and also love to seed raw bottoms.

Hi all, divorced man in early 50s with young adult kids (college age). Total bareback breeding top with a strong sex drive. Just browsing and seeing what the site is all about.

The hole week the only thing I could think about was when the fuck flu would finally set in. On Thursday night I thought I was getting a fever but in the morning, it was gone again. I actually was planning on not having any sex until I was officially POZ. But me being a horny little bitch that wasn't going to happen. So, I continued to fuck around. Cruising outdoors and in clubs and meeting my regulars. I changed my status setting on gayromeo from “safer sex”: negotiable to never! Resulting in dozens of messages from guys that wanted to knock me up or get seeded by me. The next couple of weeks were great fun. I got fucked almost every day sometimes by multiple guys. But still no sign of the fuck flu. One night I decided to go to Tiergarten and cruise for some more guys. It was late September, and nights were getting pretty cool but that didn't keep me from dressing very sleazy. I was wearing very short shorts and sneakers. No shirt. The cold air gave me goose bumps and my nipples got very hard. I wanted to check out the guys that were cruising first but the moment I walked into the park a guy that walked the other way turned around and followed me. He looked like a handy man that wanted some fun before he went home to his wife. I walked to one of the spots where I get fucked regularly close to a little pond a dead tree. The guy was standing behind me and touched my ass. His other hand explored my naked chest. Without further ado he pulled my shorts down and motioned me to bend over. The next thing I felt was his tongue exploring my boy pussy. I'm not really into rimming but he did a very good job and made me even hornier. His tongue entered my chute deeper and deeper, and I was all wet and ready. I was praying that he would not only rim me but fuck me. My prayers were heard! He got up and I heart how he unzipped his pants. I took a couple of hits from my Jungle Juice bottle and was more than ready to be penetrated! He pressed the head of his dick against my hole and whispered in my ear: “rubber?”. I shook my head and said: “just push it in!” His dick was rock hard, and I could tell that he needed to fuck a hole badly. He put more pressure, and his pole entered my fuck hole slowly to the shaft. I handed him some poppers. He sniffed it carefully and gave it back to me. Another short pause. He grabbed me by the hips and started to fuck me. We were surrounded by a small group of guys that were watching us. Some were stroking their dicks. I love being watched when I get used like a bitch and I enjoyed the fuck even more. It didn't take long, and the guy was grunting. He rammed his meat to the hilt into my guts and came. He didn't even ask if it was ok to shoot his cum inside me. From asking for safer sex to breeding an anonymous cunt didn't take long. I noticed a really cute young guy among the guys that were watching me being fucked. The guy that just dumped a load into me pulled his wet cock out of me and left. I bent down to my boots to put the poppers back and pull up my shorts when all of a sudden, another guy rammed his dick inside me. I almost fell over but he grabbed me and held me in position. It took him only a dozen aggressive pumps to unload inside me. He left his dick inside me as if he wanted to make sure that he knocked me up good. When he finally let his dick slide out of me, I pulled up my shorts. The fucking warmed me up a bit and I decided to walk around a little bit to see what was going on and to present my almost naked body to potential breeders. The park was pretty busy and there was a nice mix of guys on the hunt for fast sex. From college students from the nearby university to daddies and everything in between. I sucked some of the older guys off and got fucked a couple more times. It seemed that cute guy that was watching me getting fucked by the first guy kept following me around. He wore sweatpants and a college jacket. I was definitely the only one walking around almost naked everybody else was wearing pants and jackets. But I wasn't even cold anymore. In fact, I felt pretty warm. I thought all that fucking got my body heated up. But I also felt a little weak. I decided to take a break and walked to an area a little bit away from where all the sex happened. I leaned against a tree and rested a little. My body felt hotter and hotter! I felt like taking more clothes off, but I was already basically naked. I breathed heavily when I noticed I was even starting to sweat! Was this it? Was the fuck flu finally kicking in? I heard some branches braking as someone approached. It was that super cute guy that was following me around before. He looked at me with big eyes but did not come any closer. I looked at him and I thought about the words the guy said that fucked that POZ load up my guts a couple of weeks ago. -You can go around and knock up your little boyfriends- Even though I felt sick I was still very horny, and that boy would be perfect! He looked like he was 19 or 20 tops with bushy blond hair. But it was hard to tell what kind of body he had because of all the clothes he was wearing. I pulled the front of my shorts down a little and pulled out my raging hard on. The boy came closer and reached out for my cock. He was trembling when he touched my sweaty chest with his other hand. I unzipped his jacket and was surprised that he didn't wear anything underneath. He looked so innocent, but he definitely had slut-DNA. When he started to lick my nipples, he let his jacket fall to the ground. He had pretty broad shoulders but a very tiny waste. He almost looked like a fuck doll. I switched to dominant top mode and pushed him down to his knees. My throbbing boner was directly in front of his cute face. He looked up to me and I ordered him: “Suck it!” I saw the head of my dick disappear in his mouth and felt his tongue licking and caressing it. He looked at me as if he wanted to ask if he is doing a good job. I was getting dizzy and leaned my head back against the tree while the boy took my fuck meat deeper and deeper down his throat. “Good boy! All the way down your fucking throat!”, I said without looking down. His hands explored my bare thighs while he was gagging on my cock. Even though I felt weak and super-hot I definitely wanted to fuck this boy. I grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back and my boner slid out of his mouth. “Get up!', I ordered him, “I'm gonna fuck you now!” He got up, swallowed and looked at me with teary eyes. That throat fuck was more than he could take it seemed. I grabbed him, turned him around and pushed him against the tree. My mouth was next to his ear when I said: “I only fuck raw! Understood?” After a short pause he nodded somewhat reluctantly. I pulled his sweatpants down and his ass was exposed right away as he wasn't wearing any underwear. What a slutty boy cunt I thought. I pushed the head of my dick between his rock-hard ass cheeks. “Can I have some poppers?”, he asked. I reached down to my boots and handed him the little bottle. He took four heavy hits and handed the poppers back to me. After taking two hits, I pushed my fuck meat forward and opened the boy's hole. He was groaning and moaning. I pulled his bud cheeks apart, spat on my dick and watched my it disappear in that tight boy cunt. “Are you gonna cum inside me?”, he suddenly asked. “Hell Yeah!”, I said. He leaned forward, spread his legs a little and held on with both hands to the tree, getting ready for the fuck. After taking the two hits of poppers, my body didn't only feel super-hot but I felt like I was glowing. I'm probably gonna infect this boy now and have my own first POZ son. I held the boy with one hand by his hip and started to fuck him. Slowly I let my dick slide in and out of his perfect ass. He was moaning in pleasure and was clearly enjoying the penetration. My hand ran down his smooth back and grabbed the other side of his small hip. I held him tight and intensified the fuck. “That's what you want don't you little bitch?”, I grunted. He moaned: “Yeah! Please fuck me!” My dick was so hard it hurt, and I definitely needed to release my load soon. The intense fucking created that nice slapping sound and I was surprised that we didn't attract any onlookers. The guy was shaking and moaning. And I realized that he was coming already. I heard the sound of cum hitting the floor. He still held on to the tree with both hands. I let my boner inside the boy's cunt to the hilt for a moment. When I reached for his cock, I collected some of the cum that was still leaking and rubbed it on his flat stomach and chest. “I'm gonna come now!”, I said.” He just nodded. “You want me to knock you up with my bad seed?” This time it took a couple of seconds for him to reacted but then he nodded eagerly. I took a deep breath pulled my fuck meat out halfway and rammed it back inside that cute boy. That was all it took. I started pumping my cum inside his guts. My abs were flexing with each pulse of my dick. I let my dick slide out halfway again and saw how it still contracted pumping more cum into the boy. “Push it back in all the way in, please!”, he asked politely. I grabbed him by his bushy blond hair, pulled he head back and my dick back in. “You greedy little slut!”, I whispered in his ear and drained my balls deep inside him. I was getting dizzy again and really had to get home. When I pulled my shorts up and tried to somehow store my still half hard dick in it the boy turned around and smiled at me. He pulled his pants up too and picked up his jacket. I could still see the cum I smeared on his torso glistering. Without saying anything we separated. I went straight home and fell into my bed. The next morning, I was so weak I had to call off at work. Around noon I dragged myself to the doctor. He did a couple of tests and BOOM! A couple of days later the result: POZ! With a viral load of more than 10 million!

Chapter 2 There was a silence for a moment that was probably a lot shorter than it felt. The large guy in the office was the one to break it. "This virgin is your son?" Could everyone tell I was a virgin? He looked back and forth from me to dad and I could see the realization in his face. When we were together it was hard not to see the resemblance. In just the couple weeks of the summer that had passed, strangers at the grocery store or in the elevator in his building would casually refer to dad as my dad, just assuming without asking. One woman said that dad looked like he had traveled from the future so he could spend time with his younger self. So for the office guy, things clicked pretty quickly and he turned to dad and said, "This is pretty twisted. Can I watch?" He broke out in laughter. I looked over at dad and he looked like he was frozen in shock not knowing how to respond to any of this. "Give me a break Freddy," Dad finally said. They knew each other by name? "Do you mind if I talk to my son for a minute? Can I bring him inside to my room?" Freddy shook his head. "You trying to get him in for free too? Gotta pay up." "I'm in just my towel Freddy. You know I'm good for it. Let me just talk to him." He looked back at me and motioned me over. I had no idea what to say. Things had taken such a crazy turn. I had thought through some scenarios as extreme as guys trying to kill me. Seeing my dad at a bath house where I was hoping to hook up for the first time was nowhere near being a possibility. That's when it hit me and I just blurted it out loud as it came to me. "Youre bi dad?" Before dad could respond, Freddy cut in. "Oh shit. Yeah go ahead. You two have a lot to talk about. Go through the door kid." There was a little humanity in his voice. "Like you tried to before you little shit." And then he had to make that last remark. He said it in a sneer but I followed his direction and this time walked through the door. It was much darker on this side of the door and even though I expected it, it still felt like a surprise. I held onto the door as I let my eyes adjust a little bit but then I heard dad again. "Coop. Come on. It's ok." I turned and saw dad bare chested and in a towel. I knew he was in shape. We both ran and we had a couple times in the past done 5-7 mile runs together to catch up. It killed the awkwardness of sitting one on one in a restaurant or something and trying to come up with things to say. But we weren't going on a run now and we werent even going to a restaurant. We were going to a room he rented in a bath house. I followed dad down the hall but in every way I had no idea where I was. We turned into a hallway and the first room we passed had a TV playing porn against one of the walls. There was no door and two guys were sitting across each other watching the porn and stroking. I only peeked my head in and then kept walking to keep up with dad. The next thing I noticed was a door that led to a sauna or steam room, I wasnt sure. We didnt stop so I didnt get a look at the sign. Dad turned a corner and this hall had a series of doors that I figured must have been the rooms. Some doors looked open but most doors were closed. This was the first sign of other people being around besides the TV room. I thought there would be more guys out in the hallways but there werent yet. When we passed the first open door, I looked in. The light was off in the room but from the hall light I could see someone laying in the bed stroking looking out I guess waiting for someone to come in or watch. As we approached the next open door, we could hear the sounds of sex. As we passed by, I saw two guys in the bed fucking doggie style. They were both facing the door and I made eye contact with the top. From what I could tell from the glimpse of him that I got, he was probably in his 30s and had a muscular torso with a sleeve tattoo. I almost wanted to stay and watch but I couldn't shake that I was here now with my dad. Awkward wasnt the word anymore. It was more than that and it was stopping me from exploring this place the way that I had thought I might be able to if I were alone. Dad just kept walking so I followed. He turned another corner down another hall of rooms. I started to feel like I was totally lost like if he left me there I wouldnt know how to get out. Finally, he stopped and went into his shoe to grab a key. When he got it, he stood back up and unlocked a room door. "This is my room." He opened the door and stepped inside. I followed him to the door but once he turned the light on, I saw how small it was. It fit a twin bed and a small table with a lamp on it. He sat down on the bed and noticed that I was still standing outside the door. "Come in. I think we should talk." I walked in and shut the door. Dad was seated on the bed. I just stood against the door not sure where to move. I became very aware of two things: how small the room was and how naked dad was. The towel around his waist was your typical gym towel which is to say that when he sat down his entire right thigh was exposed and more of him was at risk of becoming uncovered. "I guess there are things we have to talk about Coop. Do you wanna sit down?" I hesitated. "Do you mind if I just stand for now?" I was processing my feelings of embarrassment not just for me but for dad. "So is this your Thursday night poker game?" "Yeah about that Coop. I didnt want to get you mixed up in anything. Inviting guys over and all. I wasnt trying to keep anything from you. Really." "Its ok dad. You dont have to explain. Im just shocked I guess and to find out this way is just--" "Yeah" dad chuckled. "Does mom know?" "What? That I'm bi? Yeah. She knew from the start. She didnt think it was her place to tell you. She said when I was ready I could tell you. I guess I'm ready now." He chuckled again and thats when I realized it was his response to his nervousness. He didnt actually think anything was funny. "Does mom know that you're bi?" "Dad...I'm gay. I went out with those girls because I felt like I had to. Mom doesnt know yet. Just trying to find the right time." There was silence now. It was hard to know where to go from this point. "How did you find this place?" "Google." Dad laughed. "So you were looking for...what in particular?" I could feel my body getting clammy having to explain this to my dad. He could tell. "It's ok Coop. You found me here so there's no reason to be embarrassed." So I explained it to him. I was standing in a rented bath house room with my half naked dad telling him about high school and freshmen year in college and finally wanting...needing to be with a guy. Dad just listened quietly nodding. "I get all of that Coop. I'm sorry we havent spent a lot of time together the past few years so that we could know each other better and you would feel safe sharing those things with me." "Thanks dad." "For tonight, let me give you a couple of options so that we feel ok with how this turns out. If you are too weirded out by seeing your dad here, you can walk out now no questions asked. If you want to stay but you still feel weird about me being here, I can leave and I promise I wont be upset by that. Or we can both stay and just try not to get in each others way. Up to you kiddo." Dad laid the choices out really matter of fact but I felt for one of the first times that he was really caring for me in that moment. Looking out for me. And I wanted to give him a hug which I would have done if he was wearing more. "Actually dad. Since you seem to know this place and the people who work here, would you be ok with staying and showing me around and stuff?" I couldnt bring myself to look dad in the face. I was too afraid of the rejection. I had never come close to being this vulnerable with him before and just wasnt sure how he would take it. "I'd love that Coop." I looked up and the look in his eyes and face almost made me cry. "One thing you should know before I take you around though. You gotta put this on." He held up my towel. "You cant go around fully clothed. Youre gonna need to get naked and put this around you like me and then we can go." We looked at each other for a long beat. Dad and I had never seen each other naked before. This was the most I had seen of him and now I had to go fully naked in this small room. There was no escape now. I had to just suck it up. "Uh...ok" I pulled off my t-shirt and then my shorts and realized that dad did not look away. He was watching me get naked. This wasnt for him but for some reason, when only my boxer briefs were left, I made eye contact with him again and did not turn away as I pulled my last stitch of clothing off. I could feel my cock stir and for the first time since I got to the bath house I became aware of how horny I was. Seemingly at the same time we both sensed what was happening and I quickly grabbed my towel and wrapped it around me. "You ready Coop? You ok?" I nodded and didnt say anything and I think he could sense my nervousness. "Its ok. You dont have to stop anywhere or do anything. we can just take a circle around the place and come back to this room ok? No pressure. You gonna be ok? Im not gonna let anything happen to you...unless you see something you like." He smiled. I nodded again and as he stood up to move to the door, he pulled me into a hug. Our bare chests pressed against each other and as our towels met I could tell that dad was getting hard. Feeling that was getting me harder and I pulled out of the hug and turned to the door. I needed to walk this off.