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So this one I wanna share because it was a thing I really wanted to do for some time now, but lacked funds and/or bravery to do the couple occasions in the past. But I finally did it! I went to the Horse Trading Event as a mere. For those of you who don't know what that is, I attach the rules, but in short: mares have to be all naked and wear a bag on their head - white bag (condoms only), or red bag (bareback - which I picked of course) - you can't really see anything through the bag - then you are taken to one of the club's rooms and placed with other mares ready to get fucked - then stallions enter and can fuck, touch and do whatever with the mares. At first it was a little stresfull (even though I was under influence) - the first few dicks I took and sucked - I wasn't that much focused on the sex unfortunately, my heart was pounding and I felt that this is could be really good but I need a short break - I called the 'stable master', so he came, tied my hands and took me back to the upper floor to take my break. When I got back it was way better - they assigned me a different place to be bent over and I was less stressed this time, so I could finally enjoy those men using my fucking hole. I think the best thing in it is that they are anonymous of course - so you don't know who is fucking you, but the other thing is - you don't know how many men fucked you. That is because - sometimes there were multiple of them behind me, waiting for their turn, changing etc. And sometimes tops you know, pull it out to put it in again or to look at the sloppy gaping hole and show it to others - and then you feel the dick again, sometimes I was sure it was the same one - but sometimes not so sure and sometimes certain it's someone else 🤤. They also touched me freely and some of them loved to hold and touch my dick which hung and wiggled flaccid below - which I totally love - someone barebacking my hole and some other top or tops observing and playing with my body and dick freely - awesome. Sometimes I did even get hard ons because it felt so good. Some of them also pulled me up to kiss - this wasn't that comfortable for me but I let them of course. I had no problem with sucking cocks that's sure haha, or almost - it wasn't easy, especially when they choked me on their cock and held my head with it all in my throat while someone else was riding my hole - yeah, really, this was draining but I did not say a word, just tried to catch my breath so that they get what they want. The other thing that I loved about this experience was that I finally felt like a public hole for real - like for real, not having to search grindr for someone in need and wait for next one to come - but I was there, with this bag on my head, all naked and not allowed to reject any top - hearing their comments about me, my body, my ass or my loose hole was soooo mmmmpmmmhmhm, I felt like a total whore, no I was. a total whore. I took some loads (not too many you know - I'm not even sure the exact count but it was definitely one digit), but definitely plenty of men fucked me that night, and most of them bareback - I know this because after the event we separated so that the stallions could leave the place - and after some time - the mares too. But we could also stay for the regular party in the club if we liked - I've stayed for some time and one of the men approached me there and admitted that he was on the party and fucked me - he was concerned about stis haha, he did fuck me but in condom, but the most important thing is - he said his concerns are valid because EVERYONE there fucked me. I might've been, let's say, an attractive mare for them - but let's not brag uhh. Also this man just wanted more - I just asked him if he wants more and he confirmed - but I just sucked him off and took his load in my mouth - that's what he wanted. One other cool moment I remembered was when the event was ending and the stable masters tied us in a row - to take us out to the upper floor and to the dressing room to end the event, I was first in this train, they were leading me and the rest by the rope, we were naked all with bags still on our heads, and up there the club was open already for a little so there were already clients gathered - when they saw us I immediately heared something like 'Aaahhhh, this one's nice' in my direction (someone was pointing at me and showing to someone else - I saw the sillhouettes through the bag, there were lights fully on up there so I could). This felt so nice haha. I'm so glad I went and did this. This was my little dream to be treated like that - take anon cocks, be public and not refusing any loads or anyone. It was hella fun. Horse Trading Event Terms and conditions: Terms and Conditions 1. Upon entry, decide whether you are a stallion (active) or a mare (passive). 2. During the event, exchanging from mare to stallion or vice versa will not be possible. 3. Mares should go to the locker room, undress completely, and leave belongings in a locker. Allowed attire includes shoes, socks, cock ring, harness. 4. Mares can only enter the locker room independently. After undressing, a stablehand will take care of them. 5. Mares can choose between two colors – red and white. Red indicates preference for unprotected sex, while white strictly implies the use of protection (condom). A bag placed over the mare’s head by the stablehand must be in the chosen color (mare is responsible for correct bag selection; changing it during the event is not allowed). The mare is also responsible for verifying whether the stallion uses protection. If this rule is violated, report the situation to the stablehand. The stallion must leave the event and bear all consequences. 6. Mares cannot remove the bag during the event, except when using the restroom. 7. Playing between stallions is also prohibited. 8. Mares will be attended to by a stablehand, who will guide them to their designated spot where they will await their stallion. Mares cannot move on their own. To call a stablehand, raise your hand and shout „Stablehand” (it doesn’t have to be loud). 9. A stallion who selects a mare can also attend to her. They can take her to a different place of their choice or to a rest area for a drink, smoke, or conversation. The stallion must care for the mare. If she requests a break, please respect it. If she needs to use the restroom, guide her or inform the stablehand. Removing the mare’s bag in the rest area is not allowed, under the risk of being asked to leave the event. 10. Stallions are free to move around the venue – have drinks, evaluate mares, discuss their attributes, qualities, and exchange information about them. 11. Once a stallion selects a mare, she cannot reject him or refuse. Except in situations where the stallion doesn’t use color-coded mare bagging. Mating can occur where the mare is situated or in any location chosen by the stallion. After copulation, the stallion escorts the mare back to her spot or to the restroom. 12. Mares will only be asked to remove the bags once the last stallion leaves the event. If a mare wishes to leave, she must inform the stablehand. They will accompany her to the locker room, where she can change and exit the premises. 13. Any violations of the rules will result in exclusion from the event. Stablehands will maintain order. Using phones (recording/taking pictures) throughout the event is prohibited. 14. We are not liable for physical, mental, spiritual, or other damages – including health. In case safe sex practices are violated, we reserve the right to pursue legal charges. 15. By entering the venue, you accept these terms and conditions.

Hey guys! Just an update. . . .Today was a FUN and unexpected Tuesday! Came home from the gym and just for fun jumped online to check messages. Had this guy message me I've been talking to but had yet to get together with and was like "Hey, don't suppose you'd be free too play, I'm passing through your area after a showing (he's a realtor) in your area?" Seeing that this guy is super hot and we've been trying to get together, I said "Sure!" and went to pretty up and get ready for him. Fifteen minutes later he was here and had me on all fours taking him from behind. Dude actually filled me three times and wanted to keep going but had to get back home to his BF. . . .We swapped texts and planning frequent visits now that we broke the ice! I got back online for a few and had ANOTHER guy message me and after a few minutes of chatting determined he and I had been together before a few years back til he moved but was back in the area. Twenty minutes later, I had him here eating me out (he loves pre-filled bottoms) for a bit and then my legs on his shoulders taking him for almost an hour!!! After he finished, he gave me his new number and asked if he could come by again this week!! I was like "Hell Yeah!" This week is off to a good start! 🙂

In due time I hope to revisit both pairs. I’ve grown quite fond of them all.

Part 8: Griff: Colin’s fist in buried in me and I’m in sheep ecstasy knowing he’s pummeling my guts with his rapid fire punches. Tom and Tag joined us after we’d been missing for an hour of depraved pozzing fucking and found Colin fisting me. Tag’s eyes widend. “Looks like you brotherlover wants to try, Tom, why don’t you open up his cunt with this.” Colin smirks at Tom as he throws him a massive dildo that had recently been up my wrecked cunt. That’s how I came to be side by side with Tag, making out as both our holes got destroyed by the men we loved the most. Colin pulled his hand out slowly before saying “I’m gonna fill u with my chempiss boy”. I grunted my need for his partied up urine deep in my guts and seconds later felt the shove of his cock in my hole. The heat of the warm piss filling me. A slight sting as the chems infiltrated my torn up cunt. “Now I have to go too” I said. “Shoot that chem stream” Colin ordered jerking my cock and pointing it in tags direction. “I want to drink it” Tag declared. “It’s too bitter, baby. The chems effect the flavor.” “Then Colin will hold me down while your force me. I want it. Feed me your chem piss.” Colin grunted a feral grunt of approval. I looked to him as he nodded. Tag gleefully took my cock in his mouth and the warmth of his tongue proved to much I let my stream go as Colin held his head in place forcing him to drink. He sputtered some back onto my crotch which I rubbed onto myself. Luxuriating in my own filth. I looked to Tom who brought a finger to his lip in secrecy. Then I looked down as he lined his meth covered cock up next to the large dildo already impaling Tag. As tag was swallowing Colin had me pause me stream long enough to give Tag a hit of Poppers. And just after in one thrust Tom impaled him. Double penetrating alongside the silicone wonder. Tag moaned at the welcome intrusion, the stretch and the burn from the tina. I finished my stream. As Tim said “now I’m filling your hole with MY piss, bro.” Tag was in heavan. I was envious of how high he was getting til I turned back to Colin. As if he was a mind reader he was bringing a fresh point to my vein. register. Rush. FUUUUUUUUCKKKKK. By morning every single debauched thing had been achieved. Tag and Tom told Griff and Colin of their plan to move away. Build a life together where no one knows they are brothers. Be husbands. Be everything. They left around noon. I looked to Colin. My master, my future. “What do you think, slave” ”I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been” ”Today’s Sunday but tomorrow I’m taking you to city hall and making this permanent. We’re beating them to the alter.” “Good.” ”and your getting your biohazard tat as soon as you test poz” ”Yes, sir. What now?!” ”Well. They may be gone. But our party is just getting started.” Colin said. Pulling out two fat points and pushing down his jockstrap so his thick, beautiful cock fell out. Fuck. Yes. THE END

Yeah it can be tough haha, especially when you have to travel to another city for the event. I had second thoughts even at the day of departure - I wanted to cancel my room and train tickets in the morning, but at the end of it I said fuck it - this is your little fantasy and you have a great occasion to fullfill it. Btw guys. I'm not from the US 🫡

For what it's worth, a guy I connect with really well has intense social anxiety, actually he has a lot of things going on, so I don't expect anything when we meet. Just see how it goes in the moment. And that's ok, he is how he is. Having social anxiety is something some people are accepting and relaxed about.

Unfortunately for those who got it by accident, and did not chase, life goes on with pills, injections and doctor's appointments. I certainly never fantasized about becoming poz, it found me. I don't understand why people would intentionally want to do this to themselves, but I don't judge. I know that BZ offers a "safe place" for chasers so I won't say anything more about that. It is a manageable disease, I have lived through what I hope is the worst of it. Doesn't change out it affected my career and life. For those of you who are long time survivors (pozzed in the earlier 90s) I wish you all luck. I've been fortunate, not everyone has.

Long time reader, first time contributor. Hope you enjoy, this is a mostly true story. ____________________________________________________________________ I was 22 years old before I understood that I was gay. I put that fully on my repressed religious upbringing where even mentioning "sex" was [banned word] in my house. But once I discovered what those odd feelings in my gut meant when I saw a large bulge, or a strong, masculine man, it was not long before I was spending a lot of time searching for encounters with men that would bring me the kind of satisfaction I had been craving. At first, I wasn't very picky at all, and my desperation for sex overshadowed any other thoughts I had about the guys I met. And I will admit that my naivete was probably a turn-on for some of the older men who were all too happy to take advantage of me. It was very obvious after one or two meet-ups that I was a bottom, and knowing just enough about gay history, I knew that condoms were important and that I should never hook up without them. I was still on my parents' insurance so there was no way I could get prep without them knowing, and since I wasn't "out" to them yet, condom sex was really the only option I could think of. The next year, I was almost finished with college, but my studies weren't going especially well, at least in part because of all the time I spent looking for sex. I eventually found a couple of regulars but even still, I was almost constantly searching for more. We always used condoms. One night, I had a few drinks in my dorm room which made me horny so I messaged one of the guys, Jake, to see what he was up to. After a few minutes, he responded that he was already going to meet up with someone that night. I figured that meant no time for me and started looking for some porn to jack off too when another message came through. "He says it'd be hot if you came over too. What do you think?" I had never been with more than one guy before and was a little nervous about it, but I said that would be fun if he could pick me up on the way since I had been drinking. A short while later, I got the message to head outside and get in the car. The drive was quiet, my nerves were getting the better of me, but I was committed at that point since I couldn't make my own way back to the dorms. The house we pulled up to was out of the way, tucked in a quiet corner of a rural neighborhood. After we parked, Jake sent a quick message on his phone and we headed up to the door which opened just before we got there. The man standing in the doorway was older, probably in his 50s, but in decent shape. His head was shaved and he had a short beard, but what really caught my attention was the fact that he wasn't wearing any pants. He had answered the door in a pair of black briefs that did nothing to hide the large bulge in his pants. I couldn't take my eyes off it, and he chuckled, "Guess you like what you see? Come in already." Jake and I walked inside and the man introduced himself as Tim and offered us each a drink. Still nervous, and now embarrassed that he had caught me staring, I took him up on his offer and he poured me a stiff whiskey coke which I downed pretty quickly. There was some of the typical smalltalk while Tim waited for me to calm down a bit, and every once in a while, he would give Jake a look, some sort of exchange happening without words. Pretty soon, Jake came over to me and started pulling on my shirt. Loosened up by the drink, I started to get into it and was happy when he started to kiss me passionately. Kissing always gets me going like nothing else and it wasn't long before both of us were naked, exploring each others bodies with our hands. Tim sat down close to us, stroking himself lightly and every once in a while he'd say something like "yeah, that's hot" or even just slight moans. Jake pushed me down on the couch and guided my mouth to his dick which had grown to its full 7 inches. I don't have great oral skills, but I always try my best. Jake held onto my head and tried to fuck my mouth, making me gag at the intrusion but he was getting nice and wet from my spit. I could taste the light saltiness of his precum on my tongue and eagerly slurped it down, swallowing what was there. I knew there wasn't much risk of anything just from sucking him. After a few more minutes of that, he told me to lay down and positioned himself between my legs. He grabbed a condom from his pants, rolled it onto his dick, and lined himself up with my hole. Tim stood up and walked over to me. The bulge I had seen earlier was nothing compared to what I was seeing now. That thing had to be over 9 inches, way more than I had ever had before. He reached under my head with a pillow to help me keep it up more and then guided my mouth to his cock. Jake and Tim both started to push into me at the same time and soon I was opening up on both ends. I had never felt anything like that before and I found myself so turned on that I started moaning, clearly enjoying the treatment. "Yeah, just like that. You like taking both of us? Fuck him Jake," Tim said. I could see Jake grinning and he pushed all the way in, bottoming out inside my ass and giving me that full feeling I loved. He started to move in and out of me, increasing speed until he found a good rhythm. I kept sucking Tim, trying to get more and more of him into my mouth and massaging his balls. Whenever I drink, I turn into the guy who gets worried whether everyone in the room is having a good time, and I wanted to make sure that he was enjoying it as much as I was so I sucked him with enthusiasm. We kept this up for a few minutes when suddenly Jake stopped, and pulled out abruptly. "Crap, the condom broke." He pulled the condom off and held it up, it had clearly split at the end. As he did this, the tip of his raw dick dropped and ended up pressed lightly against my hole, but he didn't make a move to push it in. It felt... so good! As he moved, it rubbed against my opening, slick with lube and spit. I started to feel even more turned on than before but wasn't sure what to do next. "Do you have another?" I asked tentatively. "You guys have fucked before, right?" Tim asked. "I don't have any condoms in the house, do you really want to stop?" Jake let out an involuntary whimper, just enough for me to hear, and pushed just a little towards me. In my drunken state, I was finding it hard to concentrate through the sensations of his dick against my hole and let out a moan despite myself. "We don't have to keep going..." Jake offered, but it was clear that's not what he wanted. All this time, he was still rubbing against my hole, which was driving me into a frenzy, and the scent of Tim's cock still right in front of my face wasn't helping. "Uh... it's fine. Don't stop." I gave in. Jake looked up at Tim with a big grin and immediately pushed all the way inside me. I couldn't believe how easy it was to take him all the way. I opened up like never before. And the feeling... it was a whole new experience. I had never considered that it might feel different without a condom but this was amazing. I gasped in ecstasy and my hole involuntarily clenched around him. "Oh my god, that feels so good man! Your hole is so much better like this." Jake started fucking me harder, getting closer and closer to cumming. Tim pushed back into my mouth and I was overcome by all the sensations. I think I kind of blacked out for a bit, not sure if it was the booze, the sex, or some combination of both, but I lost all track of time. Suddenly, Jake started to tense up and he sped up his rhythm. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" He said, still pounding away at my hole. "Do it, fuck his ass!" Tim encouraged him. Next thing I knew, Jake groaned loudly and pushed all the way in, holding tight to my hips and shaking. I could feel his cock twitching inside me and knew that he was cumming. All at once, it was like something broke inside me, and I knew that I would be chasing that feeling for the rest of my life. It was so much better than any sex I had had up to that point, and I loved the feeling of him leaking inside me. "You did great, boy." Tim patted me on the head as he started to move around to Jake. He grabbed Jakes shoulders and slowly pulled him back, his cock slipping out of me with a slight pop. "My turn." I started to get up. I didn't know anything about Tim and I wasn't sure that I wanted him to be inside me bareback, but Jake gently pushed me back down and said "It's ok, you're going to love it." Tim lined up against my hole and started to push. I clenched against the intrusion, worried about the risk with a complete stranger, but my hole was weak from Jake's fucking and it slowly started opening up despite my best efforts. "That's it, open up for me. Just let me in, it'll be so good." Tim's persistence started to pay off and the tip of his dick passed through my first sphincter. I tried again to pull away but he and Jake were holding onto me and I couldn't move enough to get him out of me. I tried pushing him out with my ass, but when I did Tim leaned forward and another couple inches of him slid into me. "Nice, that feels amazing. Keep pushing like that!" I started to feel dizzy and between that and the amazing sensation in my ass, I couldn't help but moan and my head fell back onto the pillow. "Yeah, that's good. Just relax, you can take it all," Tim sighed as he continued pushing his length into me. I could feel myself opening up and between the lube, spit, and Jake's cum still inside me, it wasn't long before Tim was as far as he could go. Or so I thought... "Hold on boy, there's still more," he almost whispered and he shifted his hips against me. I could feel the pressure building inside of me and thought I was going to be split in two, when suddenly something inside me moved and the pressure released. I yelped at the new sensation and Tim said "Fuck! That's it, I'm past the curve now." Jake cheered him on, rubbing my head and trying to reassure me. "Boy, that ass feels so good and I'm so deep, not gonna last long. Jake, you lubed him up good for me," Tim said and started rocking his hips against me, sliding easily in and out of my slick ass. My brain felt like it was short-circuiting, like I couldn't form full thoughts against the feelings deep inside me. And as much as I didn't want to admit it, I loved the way it felt. Tim was bigger than anyone I had ever had, and the full feeling I got with him all the way inside me was intoxicating. "Mmph, nice and broken in now! Feel how wet that is? You've got a lot of my precum in you already, and I'm gonna put this load so deep in you, it's never coming out! After this, you'll never want to use a condom again," Tim tried to take his time, pausing frequently to try and hold off his orgasm, but all the talk along with the feeling in my ass was clearly getting him worked up. Pretty soon, he stopped talking and his breathing got heavy. "Oh fuck... here it comes!" Tim grabbed my throat, looked deep into my eyes, and with one final thrust, he pushed all the way in again and I could feel that pulse of his muscles contracting, shooting his cum deep inside me. He collapsed down onto my chest and I realized I had cum at some point during the fucking. I had been so carried away I didn't even notice. I was completely overwhelmed after taking two loads inside me, but I knew that Tim was right and I would probably never use a condom again. Still inside me, Tim leaned forward and forced his tongue into my mouth, kissing me fiercely. I couldn't help but get into it and soon I was kissing him back just as passionately. After a few minutes, he had softened enough that he slipped out of me, but before he stood up, he leaned in and whispered just to me, "Jake should be thanking you, you saved him tonight. I just pumped a massive 7-day toxic load deep inside you, knocked you up good boy. Your ass is mine forever." The End

Part 2/x My brother James was kissing me back, his tongue exploring my mouth. I passed the pipe back to Peter - I wanted to play with James' cock. Exploring his body, my hand went down his stomach and felt the bas of his dick. He was hard! Got my hand round his shaft and stroked him, wanking his a few times. He moaned in my mouth as we were.kissing. After going up and down a few times, my hand went further down, over his balls towards his arse and I could feel Peter's dick inside him. He was resting, couple of inches of his own dick outside as he torched the pipe. I saw the clouds Peter blew out. I needed to get just as high. I took the pipe off Peter and went and sat on the other chair. Peter told me there was a full baggie on the side, and he wasn't kidding. There were more than enough T to keep the three of us going. And if I get my own way, we're all going to fuck each other before we finish. I got some big crystals from the bag and added them to the pipe while Peter slowly slides his dick in and out of James. Watching them, I light the torch and melt the T, building the smoke up. I take 3 or 4 big sets of clouds and blow them over towards them. I'm feeling great and want to get my dick inside one of them. I'm poz, and can either help breed my brother, or get re-charged from our cousin. I don't care which. Hopefully both. I set the torch down, and take a couple of crystals out of the bag. With a little lube on my finger, I finger Peter's hole. He's not been fucked yet, but he takes my finger in easier. Onces he's lubed a little, I add a crystal one the end and pop it up, as far as I can get it. Peter knows what I'm doing and pulls out of James. This is my first time with my fingers on James' hole and it's warm, hot even. He doesn't need any more stretching so just place a big bit of T on my finger and slide it on his hole. Rubbing it around the inside of his hole. I can hear Peter moaning about the T burning his arse already and just waiting to get the rest of the T in my own arse. Minutes later and I can feel the burn in my own arse. All three of us are on the floor. All kissing each other, hands going over each other's body. Both James and Peter have a hand on my arse, James seems to be a little hesitant putting a finger on my hole. That doesn't stop Peter. He's got 2 fingers up me. There's lots of moaning, kissing and fingering. Peter stops a moment and goes back to his bag (where his pipe is), gets something out of it. He gave me a viagra. 'You may be young, but we're gonna do a shit load of T... take it.' Who am I to say no? James is playing with his dick, moaning as he strokes up and down. The T bump has got him so high, I'm not sure he knows what's going on. I decide I want him to fuck me. So I straddle him. Raise my arse and guide his dick into me. As I'm doing this, I'm kissing his. I slide down. Moving my hand from guiding his dick in my arse to his nipples. I'm squeezing his dick with my arse as his dick gets deeper. Then drop down and he's all the way in me. James is stroking my belly and playing with my dick. We're still kissing. Im hearing him broaning, his kissing becoming more forceful. I can see Peter has something out of his bag. They're toys. One is a couple ended dildo (Peter and I have used that before). He's on the chair, watching ke and James, wanking and putting the dildo in his own arse. For now, the pipe has done its job, and left on the side. I'm sliding up and down on James's cock. James is getting louder, his hands now on my arse cheeks helping me going up and down, pulling my cheeks apart. I can hear James' breathing getting quicker, his dick getting harder. I'm squeezing his dick more, twisting his nipples and he's moaning out. 'I'm gonna cum' he says and I can feel his shooting inside me. His last proper neg load.

One of the guys standing against the wall pulled up his trousers and dug a tissue from his pocket, wiping the crack of his arse before fastening up his belt and leaving through the door into the corridor. I looked around at the group of men who had followed me into the cinema and felt my heart start to pound . I descended the two steps into the standing space and moved against the wall. With trembling fingers, I undid my trousers, and pushed them and my underpants down to my ankles. The man next to me grinned, and offered me a battered tube of KY. I unscrewed the cap, squeezed a dollop onto my fingers and rubbed it into my hole, feeling the cool lube on me. I was only just in time. Several guys squeezed into the space behind me as I gave the lube back and rested my arms on the top of the wall and watched the screen where the twinks were playing. Bodies crowded behind me, and I felt rough fingers pulling my buttocks apart. Suddenly, a long, thin cock probed my cunt and began to slide up me. I gasped with shock and excitement as the smooth length slid right up me and then began to thrust in and out. There were gasps and soft grunts behind me and a voice whispered "Fuck it. Fuck that hole." The man in me lowered his trousers and raised his shirt so I could feel his fat, hairy belly pushing against my arse. It was really hot in that small space, and I began to sweat profusely. Poppers were shoved under my nose, and I gratefully took a deep sniff, feeling my body melt in surrender to the urgent thrusts in and out of my rectum. "Look at that" someone else said, "he fuckin' loves it." The man in me gave a grunt of pleasure as his cock swelled and spurted into me. He sighed happily and pulled out and a gush of his spunk dripped onto the floor. "Christ!" someone laughed. "Dirty little sod's doing it bareback!" There was some jostling behind me, and I looked over my shoulder to see a fat black guy, face running with sweat and shirt unbuttoned to reveal a pair of tits and a huge belly. He dropped his pants, and I just had a glimpse of a dark, fat, veiny cock before he pushed it into me, crushing me against the wall with his bulk. He began to fuck me with slow, delicious strokes until I was gasping for breath and my hole had flowered open around his shaft. "Like that, bitch?" he whispered into my ear. "Like that big cock up your cunt?" I moaned and nodded, thrusting back to meet him and feeling his sweaty belly against my back. "Want my cum, boy?" he breathed, the thrusts in my arse getting faster. I gasped in pleasure and he said "Dirty bitch, came here to get knocked up, didn't you?" I knew what he meant and felt my body shiver with fear, but it was too late now. I was crushed helplessly against the wall. "Gonna give you my poison," he breathed "and you be knocked up good." His hand snaked around and clamped over my mouth and then he gave a loud snort of pleasure and his cock throbbed and swelled, throbbed and swelled and I knew he was pozzing me. When he'd finished, he pulled his cock out of me, scooped up the cum running between my cheeks, and pushed into me with his finger. I heard him laugh and say." Well now, boys, bitch wants knocking up. Who else's got a good strong, dirty load for him?" Next to me was the thin, middle-aged guy who had given me the lube and had been standing naked against the wall, hoping to entice a cock into his flaccid, wrinkly buttocks. The veins stood out on his legs and arms and he had a firm, round pot belly. His cock was rigid as he had watched events, and I saw him give an evil grin, as he said "Me next" The black guy put his face close to mine and whispered. "This guy has full-blown AIDS. You sure you want him?" I said nothing, although my heart pounded in my chest and my mouth was dry with fear. He patted me gently on the shoulder as he said to the other guy "Guess he's all yours, John." The wasted creature got behind me and I felt the first stab of his diseased cock and then it slid up me in a rush. " Oh God" I gasped, taking another his of poppers and giving myself up to depravity. The black guy gently stroked my hair and whispered soothingly "It's ok, kid. Just relax. Take his babies." The man was fucking me like a rabbit and gasping with excitement. "Here it comes!" he gasped and the black guy held my face, turning it to kiss him as the poz spunk began to flow into me. Tears rolled down my cheeks, whether with happiness or fear I couldn't say, but when it was done and the thin man had backed off into the crowd, I could only surrender as the black guy pulled me sideways and bent me over, reaching over to spread my cheeks so the cum could be clearly seen leaking from my hole. "Who's next?" he asked.

For anyone near Atlanta, HorseMarket is coming November 14th and 15th for the first time 😈😈

I have moderate social anxiety and have often wondered if I'm mildly on the spectrum. I often just come across as awkward and/or aloof, especially alone in a bar setting. As a consequence, I don't hookup as often as I'd like and I'm not comfortable in certain situations (i.e. bathhouses.) I do OK on websites like BBRT. Apps are also good if I'm out of town. Otherwise, I live in a suburban area so there are a lot of regulars who are either not interested in me or vice versa. The longer term key is finding a long term FB. I've had a few over the years, though sadly none at the moment.

It was getting dark when I pulled into the car park by the playing field. There were very few people about and one or two other cars. I got out and went through the trees to the old, brick public toilet on the far side. It was run down and dirty and the only visitors were guys like me, looking for sex. I had been introduced to the place by a friend a couple of weeks previously. It was really sleazy, and the guys who went there were mainly older and not particular about hygiene. I stepped in through the dark doorway, my nostrils immediately filled with the rank smell of piss, poppers and sweat and I felt the hairs stand up on my neck. It was much darker inside and I felt rather than saw a number of men around me. I stepped up to the pale urinal, pulled out my stiffening cck and waited, my heart thumping in my chest. They moved in on me, a dry, horny hand feeling my hard-on and another feeling my arse through my jeans. A bottle was pressed to my nose at the same time as a warm, wet mouth engulfed my cock. I groaned as the poppers kicked in, my legs turning to jelly and my will-power evaporating. Someone started to try and kiss me, rough bearded face and fat lips slobbering over mine. His tongue slid into my mouth as another mouth sucked my cock. I gasped with excitement and lust, even as my mind was repelled by the thought of what I was doing and the terrible, terrible risks I was running. I felt hands on my belt. The guy sucking me pulled my trousers open and dragged them down, followed by my underwear. I felt the cool air on my naked backside as I stood there with my clothes around my ankles beng kissed, sucked and fondled by god knows what kind of ugly trolls. The bottle was held to my nose again. This time they held my head, forcing me to breathe deep until my head was spinning and I had to hold onto someone o stand up. "Yeah", said a dry, throaty voice " he's gettin' into it now. Oh yeah, we got a live one here." My head was pulled forward and down and a thick, sweaty cock slid into my mouth. It tasted so good and the poppers were so srong I just started sucking greedily on it, the hairy, fat beely pressed against my nose. "Fuck 'um," commanded the voice, adding "Here's some lube." I felt fingers between my chceeks and something cold and slippery being smeared on my arsehole. I started to panic, this was getting too heavy, but it also felt soo good, soo dirty. I felt hands on my hips and a man's cock probed my arse. I reached back and grabbed it. No condom. He was going in bareback! He slapped my hands away and carried on pushing forward. I felt the meaty head slide into me. There was still time to stop this. I could just push them away and go, but still it felt soo good, sooo dirty. Again poppers were offered to me, and this time I took the brown bottle and inhaled greedily, thinking to myself 'Oh my god - I'm going to let him'. Then his cock burst into me and the shaft slid up me in a delicious rush. I bent over, holding on to the thighs of the man in front of me as I was fucked, my mind screaming at me to stop even as I pushed back to meet his urgent thrusts. "Come on, fuck him!" called-out a voice. " Shoot up him," said another, adding "he wants it bad." Oh my god, I'm going to let him. I knew I should stop now, but I was going to let him. "Here it comes, bitch!" The guy pushed his flabby belly hard against mt arse and I felt his cock thrb in me. I was horrified, afraid, excited and disgsted as he slowed, stopped, then pulled out his greasy cock and I felt his cum trickle over my balls. I stood up, panting for breath, aware of myself as never before and suddenly I knew what I wanted. I saw several pairs of eyes glittering in the dark around me and with a shudder of surrender I turned, bent over and spread my cheeks the tears of joy in my eayes as the next cock slid up me.

Mike Region Antwerp Belgium Fuckslut open to all kinks and loads 5'10 neg and open-minded Long sessions in weekend 0032456756377

Have you had other cocks besides?

This is so true. It’s a bottom’s duty and responsibility to take care of tops’ needs. Otherwise us bottoms are useless in the gay sex world. Embrace your role!

it all gets a bit meta 😜if like me, you're turned on by repugnant guys, then they're not really repugnant anymore 🤣 there's this one guy that hangs out at the eagle, i usually see him during quieter hrs, and i know that people, especially the staff, dislike him so there must be a story there. i suspect he's homeless and hits people up for cash. he's short, older, got a barrel chest/belly and barely speaks english but he's got a massive uncut dick i can't ever say no to. not that he would take no for an answer anyways as he's persistently dom w me and i've lost track of the times he's bred me in the backroom or toilet. sure, the side eye i get from others afterward is a shame thrill but how can i call him repugnant if im a norefusal hoe for his homeless hog destroying my hole as the highlight of my evening 😜

(I've wanted to write this for a while. It will be multi-parts There are elements of truth intertwined. I'll let you try and work out which parts) I'd been away at uni for the last 3 months and was back for the Christmas holidays. I've been fucking around since I was in high school, getting guys in toilets, out in the park and even my fucking one of my cousins. I was 21 now, definitely growing into being a cub - I'd always been chubby growing up, but being away from home, definitely found my comfort with carrying some extra weight. I stood about 5' 11", 266 lbs, brown hair, blue eyes with a decent arse and a nice belly I enjoy being grabbed when guys were fucking me. Or when I sometimes decided to fuck them. I was going to be home for a week before heading back. When I got home, I was really tired so went to bed around 10pm. I knew my older brother (25) was going to be home, but everyone else was out for the night, back late the next day. I woke about 2am needing a drink. As I got downstairs, I heard noise coming from the living room. Door was closed but definitely heard like fucking. Assumed my brother had some girl over he was doing so just went to get some water. On the way back, curiosity got the better of me having never seen my brother's cock, and woken up a little horny. My brother (James), was 6' 1", slim, blonde, with a small amount of chest hair, mainly smooth everywhere else. I was happy to use the excuse I wasn't awake properly, sorry etc. So I slowly opened the door to the lounge. It's a pretty a big room, and I know it's easy to put your head round without being seen. I saw my brother, on his back, with his legs in the air, holding them back. He had a nice dick, I could see. He was about 7.5". Instead of some girl stradling him, he was getting fucked. Fucking him was our cousin, Peter. As i said, I've messed around with Peter before, but didn't realise he was fucking anyone else in the family. I know Peters dick really well. He was about 8", decent head to open you up and a nice fat shaft. Peter was in the Army, and tanned all over from being posted overseas. Not a tan line in sight. Now, see Peter fucking my brother James is hot. It's even hotter seeing Peter blowing out from a glass pipe and feeding it to James. They were both high, and I wanted in on the action. As soon as I saw them, my dick got hard. I put the water down, and started to walk over stroking my dick through my shorts. Peter saw me and smirked 'hoped you'd hear us'. I just took the pipe from him and lit it up, taking a long drag. I loved myself some T, having discovered it last year at uni. Held the first toke as long as I could before blowing back to Peter. James had clearly seen me, but was either horny at the thought or too high to care. He was playing with his dick while I was making over with Peter - hard, passionate kissing. I already said, Peter was in the Army. About 6', tanned all over, with a light smattering of hair. He was muscled, but not overly so, probably around 240lbs. He had a number of tattoos, my favourite being on the side of his stomach - a scorpion with a red tip. I've loved this scorpion since he started fucking my a year ago when he pozzed me up. When we stopped kissing, he whispered in my ear 'want to help me poz your big brother?'. I smiled. Took another drag on the pipe and this time bent down to James, lent in and blew the clouds into his mouth and kissed him, with him clearly receptive. I turned to Peter and nodded.

First cock was from a 25ish guy with a 7" cock when I was 16. Tried to suck it, then he said let's try it in my ass. He knew I was a virgin and said he would take it slow. He did take it slow but forcefully pushed it up my hole. Told him it was kinda hurting but told me to wait and just relax. He popped my cherry and hole was bleeding after, he laughed and said he'd use more lube next time.

Here I was, middle of fucking nowhere. I wish I'd never bought this heap of shit. Third time it had broken down in the last two weeks. However, this time I also had no phone signal, it was getting dark and on a road in the hills with no passing traffic in the pissing rain. With minimal knowledge of anything mechanical I'd resigned myself to the fact, I was going to have a long walk in the dark. I donned my coat and set off, resigned to the fact I was at least ten miles from the nearest town. I'd been walking for maybe twenty minutes when I heard the sound of a car behind me, travelling in the same direction. I hoped, beyond hope they would take pity on me and give me a lift. As it got closer I stood in the middle or the road and waved frantically at the driver who, with no way of passing, save from driving over me didn't have much choice. The car was an old Landrover and behind the seat, a rough looking, well built man with a thick beard and cropped hair. "You the owner of that car back there" he said. "Yes, the fucking thing has broken down. You couldn't give me a ride to the next town could you" He just smiled and told me to get in. He said "Your soaked lad, I'm going home. Your welcome to come with me. You can phone the garage in Middlethorpe from there but, I doubt they'll be willing to come out until tomorrow. You can stay at mine tonight, get your clothes dry and have something to eat. Get it sorted tomorrow" I thanked him. What a nice guy and not unattractive. It felt great to be in the warmth of the old car. It was noisy and I could feel every bump but, I didn't care. After a few miles we turned left off the main road and made several turns on minor roads before coming to a dirt road and heading further into the hills. He told me he lived in an old farm house and that he'd sold off the farm land but retained the house. He had a very gruff, deep voice but was very amiable and friendy. After about ten minutes we pulled up outside a very old house. The wind was howling, the rain absolutely pelting down and it was pitch black and cold. We walked quickly to the front door which wasn't locked and entered. It was a little run down but, warm inside. The old stove in kitchen was putting out some serious heat and the room had a very homely feel. "Bathrooms upstairs lad. Have a shower or a bath if you want and I'll put your clothes over the stove to dry. I'll put on some stew. That'll warm you up" I didnt quite know what to do so I said Thankyou your very kind. I'll bring my clothes down after Ive had a shower. Do you have something I can put on" He just laughed. "Don't be shy lad, take your clothes off here, go and get showered and Ill find you something to put on while your clothes dry" I have to say I was shy but, I got undressed and as I did so, he watched me, smiling. As I removed my underwear his eyes fell bellow my waist. I swear he made an approving grunt as he looked at me but, it was very soft, part grunt part sigh. "Bathrooms up the stairs second on the right" The stairs led directly from the kitchen and as I climbed them I swear he was looking at my arse all the way up. The shower felt wonderful. The hot water warming my body. As I showered I thought about my host. He was very attractive. He'd been watching me taking my clothes off and definitely looked at my arse as I climbed the stairs. Surely I couldn't be that lucky that I'd been picked up by a gay, attractive man who lived on his own after my heap of shit car broke down. My luck just wasn't that good. Having said that, maybe he was some sort of psyco. I started to think then, maybe he was a little too friendly. After all, he'd just picked me up and brought me his house in the middle of nowhere. No one knew where I was. I started to feel a little nervous. Maybe accepting his hospitality was a big mistake. I finished showering and stepped out of the bath. As I did so, my host entered the bathroom. He must have been waiting for me to finish outside. He was wearing a fleecy dressing gown and handed me a large fluffy towel. "Make sure to dry yourself properly lad. Let me help you" He gently rubbed the towel over the surface of my upper body before leaning down and wiped my genitals. Then turned me around and wiped my arse cheeks and into the crack. I was immediately turned on and began to feel an erection start. He dried my hair then turned me to face him. I glanced down and saw his cock was fully hard, pocking out through gap of his dressing gown. He was big. Both in length and girth. My eyes grew wide and he must have noticed my reaction as he smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Do you believe in fate lad" I didn't know what to say. It was an automatic reaction as my right hand reached forward and I took hold of his cock. It was hot and hard and he gasped as slid my hand along the length. As I did so he pulled his dressing gown open to reveal and biohazard symbol tattoo below his belly button. Now it was my turn to gasp. ******** To be continued *******

swallowed 4 loads today and took 2 in my arse.

I have never succeeded in saving it that long. The furthest I have gotten is making a few recipes with the help of kinky friends (which don't require as much). I think my favorite was the vanilla bourbon ice cream. Fresh cum is a great stabilizer for ice cream and it has a bit of salt and some of its own flavours unique to the men who contribute. Replace the egg whites with a similar amount of cum. I had everyone just cum in a tempered glass measuring cup I was keeping in the fridge whenever they could for "a kinky surprise". I am kind of known for really surprisingly good food... so there was a little anxiety but everyone was both curious on a kink level and just on a foodie level. (Honestly, the second reason is why everyone I made it with/for tried it.) It kinda needs to be fresh and promptly refrigerated though IMO because it takes a lot of contributors and it's fun to have everyone try a little. It has a light distinct taste on top of the ice cream. Everyone teased me for picking a flavour that looked like what it was (I can do all sorts of weird kinky shit and still keep a little bit of an innocent, naive aura for whatever logic defying reason-- I didn't pick that on accident at all) but I think it was really kind of fun for everyone to see everyone else eating their cum and licking white drops off their fingers and mouth and feeding it to eachother.

Sorry to say, everything about the guy was underwhelming. I could barely tell it was in. At age 18, I was really late to de-virginization and way too eager to be broken in by just any penis I could find. In the unlikely case that a virgin is reading this, I recommend you hold out for an amazing man. You should be delighted that he is using you, even if it's painful. The first time is not particularly expected to feel good physically. It's an abuse of your body. But it should be meaningful. Only one man will ever get to perform the service.

Or it is quite possible Mr Martin is just untested poz. Reminder that when we test NonReactive, that is our serostatus as of about one month ago, not today. So it's entirely possible both dad and Alex are poz already.

Outdoor one.

Party me up and poz me

In the weeks that followed, Dan was no longer elusive. He hooked up with each of Jimmy and Jason from time to time. Each time he seemed closer to raising the subject of HIV again, but never quite getting there. Neither Jimmy nor Jason pushed the subject for the time being. One weekend afternoon after a three way among them, in which each of Jimmy and Jason had unloaded deep inside Dan, the air in the apartment was thick with anticipation, a palpable tension that hung between the three men like a promise. Dan, his body still humming from the earlier encounter, sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes darting between Jason and Jimmy. The weight of their gaze was both comforting and unnerving, as if they could see straight through to the core of his being. "You've been holding back, Dan," Jason said, his voice low and steady, a contrast to the raw, animalistic sounds he'd made earlier. "We know there's more to you than what you've shown us." Jimmy, his green eyes sparkling with mischief, leaned against the wall, his muscular frame relaxed yet commanding. "We want to help you explore those desires, Dan. The ones you're too afraid to voice." Dan's heart raced, his breath quickening at their words. He knew they were right; there was a part of him that craved something more, something darker and more [banned word]. But the fear of judgment, of rejection, had always held him back. "We've got a fuck friend joining us tomorrow night," Jason continued, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Someone who's walked a similar path. You want to join? He might show you just how liberating it can be to embrace your true desires." This somehow turned Dan on more than his qualms could restrain. "Yeah... okay," he said. Jimmy smiled and said, "come by around 9:30. This is going to be a lot of fun." "So good," Jason agreed, "real fucking good." Dan made his way home embroiled in his inner conflict. But he tried to convince himself that so long as he stayed on his PrEP, he wasn't really playing with fire. It was just vicariously living out his fantasy life. The next night he ended up showing up a little early. Jason and Jimmy were already naked and stroking each other to porn when he arrived. He slipped off his clothes and joined them on the couch, alternating sucking Jason's cut cock and Jimmy's uncut one while they waited for the fourth. The sound of the front door opening signaled the arrival of this mysterious friend. In walked Craig, a towering figure with a godlike physique that screamed power. His presence filled the room, a heady mix of raw masculinity and unapologetic desire. "Craig, this is Dan," Jason introduced, his voice laced with pride. "He's been... hesitant to fully embrace our lifestyle. We thought you might be able to show him the way." Craig's eyes, dark and intense, locked onto Dan's, and a slow, knowing smile spread across his face. "I'll do what I can, but as I can attest he's already in the best of hands with you two." As Craig spoke, he began to undress, his movements deliberate and sensual. His body was a work of art, every muscle defined, every inch a testament to his dedication to the lifestyle. He was tan all over, clearly having nude sunbathing. A biohazard tat was etched between his massive traps. Dan felt his mouth go dry, his body responding to the raw, unapologetic display of masculinity. "You see, Dan," Jimmy said, his voice soft but commanding, "Craig here is living proof that embracing your desires can be the most liberating thing you'll ever do. He's a poz slut, and he loves every minute of it." Dan's eyes widened at the term, his mind racing with the implications. He'd heard whispers of this world, of men who sought out the virus, who craved the raw, unprotected intimacy that came with it. But to hear it spoken so boldly, so proudly, was both terrifying and exhilarating. "Come on, Dan," Jason urged, his hand reaching out to grasp Dan's shoulder. "Let go of your fears. Let us show you what it means to truly live." As if in a trance, Dan allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, his body moving closer to Craig's. The air crackled with electricity as the four men stood in a circle, their desires intertwining, their boundaries blurring. Craig stepped forward, his hand reaching out to grasp Dan's chin, tilting his head back. "You want this, don't you, Dan? You want to feel what it's like to be truly free." Dan's breath hitched, his body trembling with anticipation. "I... I don't know. I mean, I've thought about it, but..." "But what?" Jason interrupted, his voice sharp. "You're afraid of what others might think? Of what it might mean for your future?" Dan nodded, his eyes downcast, ashamed of his hesitation. "Fuck what others think," Jimmy said, his voice like a whip. "This is about you, about what you want. And we're here to give it to you." "Get Craig's pussy wet while I eat you out Dan," Jason commanded. Craig and Dan got on their hands and knees in a line on the sectional, Jimmy taking up position to have Craig suck his cock, while Jason leaned over and spread Dan's cheeks apart, starting to lick and nibble at his hole. Dan used one hand to pull apart Craig's ass cheeks, marveling at his wide and slightly puffy asslips. Craig already smelled like sex. As Dan started working his tongue into Craig's easily yielding hole he found within the unmistakable taste of cum. "Did Craig leave any presents up there for you Dan?" Jimmy asked. "Yeah," Dan said pulling his tongue out for a moment, "there's cum up his hole." "Such a good slut," Jimmy murmured to Craig. Dan was getting intoxicated by the experience all while Jason worked him open with his fingers and tongue, working in some lube. "Time to fuck," Jason commanded, "Dan, lie on your back with your feet on my shoulders and Craig you get on top and present that hole to Jimmy." Dan did as he was told, Jason putting a throw pillow under his ass to get a better angle. Craig's big firm balls were resting on his nose and mouth, his shaft on Dan's chin. Dan was staring at the beauty of Jimmy's big uncut cock working itself into Craig's cumlubed hole as Jason started working his own cock into Dan's. He started to tongue Craig's balls from time to time. "Nice," Craig said, "you want me to suck you Dan?" Dan declined, afraid he'd cum too soon. "Such a fine poz pussy," Jimmy growled as he started long dicking Craig in earnest, "so fucking fine." The musk these men were giving off was driving Dan wild. Jason was pushing ever deeper into him, holding his head right in his second hole. "Time to switch," Jason said. As Jimmy pulled his cockhead out of Craig's hole, some of the cum of Craig's earlier trick (or tricks, Dan wondered) dripped onto Dan's forehead. Jason saw what had happened as he assumed the position behind Craig's ass, scooped up the cum and fed it into Dan's lips. Holy fuck, Dan thought to himself as Jason raised Dan's feet over his shoulders and started pushing his now cumslicked cock into Dan's hole, I'm a fucking pig and I love this. Jason and Jimmy started picking up the pace of their fucking. "Getting close man," Jason told Jimmy. "Me too," Jimmy replied. "Recharge my fucking hole," Craig grunted, his ass meeting Jason's cock thrust for thrust, clearly trying to milk out the cum, Dan staring at this sight while leaking precum out of his hard as hell cock. "Poz me," Dan whispered, his voice hoarse with need. "Make me a fucking poz slut." Jimmy's eyes flashed with triumph as he thrust forward, his cock sinking deep into Dan's body. Dan cried out, his voice a mix of pain and pleasure, as Jimmy began to move, his hips snapping with primal urgency. Jason moaned in sync with Jimmy and Dan watch the pulsation of his cock, knowing his cum was shooting into Craig. This tipped him over the edge and he started to shoot. Then Jimmy buried his cock deep and Dan felt the familiar heat and throbbing of Jimmy's eruption in his ass. "Clean us off gents," Jimmy said after they'd all caught their breath. Craig crawled forward as Jason took his cum covered cock out of Craig's ass and put it in Dan's mouth. After Jason pulled his cock out of Dan's mouth, Dan leaned his head up to clean the rest of the cum off Craig's taint. Craig meanwhile licked the cum off Dan's cock and then made out with his hole. As the four men lay panting, their bodies glistening with sweat, Dan felt a sense of peace wash over him. He'd crossed a line, embraced a part of himself he'd long denied. And as he looked into Jason and Jimmy's eyes, he saw not judgment, but pride. "You did good, Dan," Jimmy said, his voice soft. "You gave voice to what you wanted." Dan smiled, his body still humming with the aftermath of his orgasm. "I did, didn't I?" Craig, his body still entwined with Dan's, leaned in, his voice low. "We all have our demons, Dan. But when you embrace them, when you let them consume you, that's when you truly start living." As the four men disentangled, Dan felt a sense of camaraderie, of shared experience. He knew that this was just the beginning, that his journey into this world was far from over. "Think about it, Dan," Jimmy said, his hand resting on Dan's shoulder. "If you want to take the next step, we'd love to help you out." Dan nodded, his mind racing with the possibilities. He knew that this offer was both a gift and a challenge, a chance to fully embrace the lifestyle that Jason and Jimmy promoted. As he stood, his body still trembling, Dan's eyes met Jason's, and he saw a spark of recognition, of understanding. He knew that whatever decision he made, whatever path he chose, Jason and Jimmy would be there, guiding him, pushing him to explore the darkest, most [banned word] corners of his desires. And as he left the apartment, the weight of their offer still lingering in the air, Dan knew that his life would never be the same. The transformation had begun, and there was no turning back.

1. Apt #5C He was drenched. Dripping. The rain let up two blocks from the address he held in his hand, but too late. He was already soaked. Shoes squished climbing the stoop. Manetti/Prior, written in faded blue ink on yellowed masking tape, ink running in splotches, evidence of at least a year exposed to weather—rain, snow, cold; now heat and steamy humidity, even now near midnight—but those words he could make out. The second, his and his brother's last name. There was a stack of buttons each with tape next to it, each with a name or names next to hard, rusty buttons. Manetti is who he wrote to the second time, the time he asked if he could come out and stay with him, with them. The first time he wrote to his brother directly, but Manetti, Mike Manetti, answered for his brother. He wrote he didn't know where his brother was. He thought he might have gone back to his mother’s house in Long Beach. Back to California. Chris pushed the button. There were only quiet sounds of a summer Tuesday night in New York. Except for a cab slowly prowling down the street, the block was abandoned, desolate. A fire hydrant left open poured into the summer street. The cab's tires slushed through the puddle and drove off into the night. The facades of the streetscape was dreary, few building’s windows lit, most were boarded up. The one next to this building had a big 'Condemned' placard on the door. A movement in a trashcan at the bottom of the stoop. A rat emerged setting the lid ajar. A couple of needles lay on top of black garbage bags inside. No, he wrote to Manetti, his brother Ben hadn't come back to California. He, Chris, Ben's younger brother, lived in Long Beach with his mother—well, had lived with her, he wasn't exactly getting along with her at the moment—well, her boyfriend actually, which is why he was trying to get a hold of his brother. The letter he sent back to Manetti was rambling. He didn't have a place to live. His mother didn't actually ask him to leave, but every morning, usually at the bathroom, Carl, his mother's new boyfriend, posed, arm on door frame, menacingly in his heavily sweat-stained underwear, pee stain in the crotch. Chris would squeezed passed him. Every day it seemed Carl took up more and more of what was left of the space in the doorway, inched his underwear's yellow bulge closer and closer to him. The day he wrote to Manetti, he felt desperate. He had felt Carl's body heat as he passed under his arm, felt a wisp of his chest hair, a brush on his shoulder from Carl's black, musky pit. He felt Carl's wetness linger on his shoulder, his residual stink. Could he crash with them? He'd pay his way. He couldn't stay at home any longer. Please, he implored in his letter. Yes, Manetti wrote back. A single word. So Manetti. The door buzzed and Chris leaned into its weight as the bolt unlocked. After receiving Manetti’s reply, Chris, a month shy of graduating high school, stopped at his house to pick up some clothes. For the last couple weeks he was crashing in the back seat of his best friend's Impala. His mechanics job at the Chevron gas station where he worked after school and on Saturdays didn't pay enough for him to afford an apartment, but he had saved enough for a one way ticket to New York. California didn't seem to want him, and living in a car’s back seat wasn't living. Carl was a growing menace that was about to boil over into...he didn't know what. And didn't want to know. The type of menace in Carl’s eyes he was unfamiliar with. Abuse, yes. His own father was brutal to him and his brother sometimes. But there was something else he felt in his gut with Carl. Maybe lower than his gut. It stirred some excitement, but he wanted to get away from it before he knew exactly what its root was. Inside, the hallway was lit by a flickering fluorescent bulb. Two dogs barked in an apartment down the hall. There should have been two bulbs in the ceiling fixture, but one was flickering its way out. The halway was dim, full of shadows. A rickety staircase filled half the narrow corridor. He climbed five floors, each landing a bit dingier than the last, heavier in graffiti as he climbed. On the top floor landing it was nearly pitch black, but a door stood open a crack and a shadow draped in a flimsy robe hovered in the door frame. "You Chris?" a deep voice asked. Chris set his gym bag down at the landing and said yeah, catching his breath. He felt his heart beating. There was a momentary fight or flight response he was trying to suppress. He hadn't expected that he'd be fearful upon arriving at his brother's apartment, but his brother wasn't here. Just Manetti. Manetti moved a little forward, enough so the apartment's light spilled over his broad shoulders, put a halo in back of his long brown hair. Chris made out teeth, a bit of a smile. Manetti extended his hand and the two shook. “Manetti. Mike Manetti.” His grip was firm but the skin soft, a little clammy. "And your Ben's little brother Chris. C’mere!" Manetti pulled him forward, gave him a warm friendly bear hug. Chris could have stayed there in that embrace forever. There was a familiar smell to him. And strength. He hadn't expected it, but he suddenly felt relief; his worry and a continent-wide anxiety melted in that embrace. Manetti released him and looked him over. "Dog shit day out there, Chief. Thunderstorm didn’t even help. Looks like it got you bad. Get in here and take your wet sneaks off." Chris saw the robe was open and that Manetti was naked underneath. He caught a quick view of Manetti' dark hairy torso, thick uncut cock, donkey balls dangling between two muscular, wooly legs. He opened the door for Chris while at the same time knotted up his robe. Chris carried in his gym bag, his few pitiful things: gym clothes, another pair of worn jeans, two old t-shirts (The Romones, Adidas), underwear (dirty), socks (smelly). Manetti closed and bolted the door. Three separate locks snapped into place. "Sorry, I was thinking about going out. Didn't know if you'd get here tonight. It's pretty late." "No, yeah. Sorry." Chris was pretty quiet generally. Didn't like to talk. Always self-conscious of saying something dumb, a leftover from an over-critical father. He looked around at the filthy kitchen—sink full of dishes, ashtray full of butts, dark grimy windows—not much different from home, actually. It was kind of reassuring in a perverse kind of way. Manetti was giving him an intense examination in the kitchen light. He felt he needed to say something to distract from his self-consciousness. "Um, I waited a long time for the bus in Newark. And then I walked to the East Village from the bus station. Lot farther than I thought. I wasn't prepared for rain. Didn’t bring an umbrella. Didn’t really think I’d need one. Dunno why. Guess I'm an idiot." His voice trailed off. Usually he never even said that much. That was [robably more than he'd said in a week. He was nervous, a little frightened, and yet glanced up several times to get a better look at Manetti. “Sorry, I’m going on like a moron. I’m tired I guess. It’s been a long day.” "I can see that," Manetti said, ruffling Chris’ wet hair. “Take your things off and hang them on the window bars. Let ‘em dry out." Manetti picked up Chris' gym bag and tossed it next to the archway to the next room. The kitchen window had retractable bars. It was set at an angle to the building, faced a brick wall and shadowy darkness beyond. Chris looked up and gave Manetti a quick smile, then concentrated on kicking off his shoes. He peeled off his socks and shirt, hanging them through the diagonal bars. A light from across the airshaft flashed. The flash blinded him for a second, and maybe it was a residual image imprinted on his retina, but he thought he saw an outline of a figure lurking in the gloom across the airshaft. "Pants," said Manetti, snapping his fingers. It almost felt like an order, but Chris didn't seem to mind. He was, though, a little embarrassed especially because Manetti was so big compared to him. He looked like some of the dockworkers he'd seen in the port of Long Beach. Big and burly, a little intimidating. He felt the man's eyes running over his thin frame. He felt small, miniature even, in this tiny kitchen. His pant legs dripped on the linoleum but Manetti didn't seem to care. He sat down at the dinette table in his threadbare underwear, setting his back to the window, putting his folded hands in his lap. "Is the bag all you brought?" Manetti nodded to his gym bag. "Yeah, not much, right? I'm not used to packing. Never really gone anywhere. I didn't have no time. Just picked up what was on my floor." Chris noticed the robe had fallen open again revealing one of Manetti's dark, hairy thighs. He quickly looked around the kitchen. "Bathtub?" he said surprised that there was a bathtub in the kitchen. It sat right smack in the middle of the kitchen, dividing the room essentially in two. Didn’t know how he could have missed it when he first walked in. A metal top that doubled as a counter lay on top of it. "Yeah, it’s pretty common in these old walk-ups. Hey, you want some soup or something? I have some left over. Just need to heat it up." Chris nodded eagerly. He hadn't realized just how starving he was. He had a cheese sandwich on the plane but that was hours ago. Manetti was nice, he thought. His furtive glance took in his deep set brown eyes and thick black brows over a smooth forehead. Long brown hair and sideburns. It was weird his brother never spoke about his roommate. "How do you know Ben?" he asked. Manetti went to the fridge and took out a pot and started warming it up on the stove. "Met at a bath house last winter. Took pretty quickly to each other. He fucked me, then I flipped him. We did that all night. Didn’t hook up with anyone else. That night anyway. Then I moved in here with him a week later." Manetti gave him a once over to gauge his reaction as he stirred the soup. Then he added, "You don't really look like brothers." Chris was surprised by how frank Manetti was about being gay, especially that part about the bath house. We wished he could be that bold. "We're step brothers. My dad adopted him when he was sixteen, but that didn’t work out," Chris said. Chris stopped himself from saying more. He listened to the spoon stirring in the pot. It was pretty common for people to say, that they didn’t look alike. He had thin blond hair, almost white, parted on the side, was skinny and on the short side. He liked wearing his hair shoulder-length, whereas his brother had almost a lion’s mane of thick dirty blond hair he always wore in a ponytail. It was one of the first things he could recall, Ben's ponytail. Ben was tall, athletic, broad chested, ten years his senior. They both had their mother’s wide face and striking blue eyes, but that’s where the similarity ended. Ben ruled any room he was in. People flocked to him. He was magnetic. Chris was a loner, shy. Not the brightest bulb, said he dad endlessly. But he was resourceful, could figure stuff out. He was a pretty decent mechanic without ever having any real training besides a semester in shop class. It was the one 'A' he ever got. His mother tried to shield him from his father, but she had her own demons and wasn’t always there for him. So he retreated. To his room, or the back of his friend's Impala, and now to a red Formica kitchen table sitting in his wet underwear with his hands folded in his lap. He looked at the refrigerator across from him. A magnet held up by a photo of Manetti and Ben, arms around each other’s shoulders, standing in knee-length bathing suits on a balcony that looked out at the sea. Chris wondered where they were? Manetti looked a few years younger, had shorter hair and wore a huge goofy smile. He looked a little stoned. Ben's deep tan set off his blue eyes; they almost glowed. He looked happier than he ever did growing up. It must have been breezy because his long ponytail flew like a kite behind him. Chris stared at it while his soup heated up. He idolized his brother. Worshiped him really. Many times after his father had given him a bad spanking, he’d sneak into Ben’s room, into his bed, and silently fall asleep on his chest refusing to shed a tear. He did cry, though, wept inconsolably really, when Ben said he couldn’t stand their house anymore and shouted he was moving to New York. Manetti tested the soup with a loud slurp. His mother demanded to know why New York. He'd met someone in a bar, Ben said, who'd offered him a job. What kind of job do you get offered in a bar? shouted his step father, but Ben was storming out the door raising a middle finger. “When’s the last time you saw him?" Manetti asked. "He’s changed some, you know,” he said. "He's not that Long Beach surfer you used to know." In the photo Chris saw Ben had added a bunch of tattoos. A big dragon crawled over his right shoulder, it's tail re-emerging over his ribs. He saw his brother wasn't that slim teenage surfer he once was either. He was a lot more bulked up, even handsomer if that was possible. "Ben moved out right when he turned eighteen. Hated my dad. Can't blame him. My dad was pretty much of a dickhead. He was okay to me except for my whoopings. He tackled him one time, tried beating the shit out of him, and Ben wailed on his so hard my mom called the police." Chris caught himself as Manetti eyed him. He didn't like to talk about his family’s problems—not to the school counselor, and never to strangers. He rarely did talk about them, didn't even really like to think about them especially. Manetti filled a soup bowl, grabbed a spoon from a drawer, and set it in front of him. "Yeah, I've seen him loose it. He's pretty awesome. You want a towel? You're still dripping," he said. Chris nodded and dug into the soup. Manetti popped out and then returned with a large terrycloth towel. The soup was full of large chunks of vegetables and warmed his stomach. He took the towel and mopped his head, then draped it over his shoulders. For the first time in as long as he could remember—weeks? months?—he was beginning to relax. He wasn't used to someone being nice to him. Especially someone he didn't know that well. After his dad left, his mom had turned into a basket case. And now, any day with Carl in the house was like walking through a minefield; made his dad seem like Gandhi. He must have been scowling into his soup because when he looked up, Manette said, "You Prior boys are so serious, aren't you?" Manetti flashed him a warm smile, which he shyly returned, then went back to shoveling spoonfuls of soup. "In your letter you said you haven't seen my brother in two weeks,” Chris said between bites, keeping his eyes in the soup bowl. “Ain't like him to just disappear. He’d split for a time but would always come back. Know where he’s at?" Manetti sat across from him, reached in the ashtray and took out a half-burnt joint. He lit it and took a long drag and looked up at the ceiling. He exhaled, thought for a moment before offering it to Chris. Chris put down his soup, pinched the joint, and took a short toke. He exhaled, said thanks, handed it back and went back to his soup. "Well,” said Manetti thoughtfully. “Chris Prior..." He paused, taking a long hit, taking an even longer time to reflect before exhaling. "...Ben Prior, or Big Ben, as he's called, disappears from time to time. So do I. I didn’t want to get into it in the letter, but truth is, sometimes, a client will want us for an extended period of time." Manetti took another hit. As he exhaled, he leaned in toward Chris. "Sometimes drugs are involved, so you know, we’re sometimes really out of it. Sometimes someone buys one of us for a time. Comes with the territory. We come back to each other. Eventually. But we’ve learned our partnership needs to be very open." Chris' spoon stopped in mid-air at some point while Manetti was talking. He looked him over. Long dark wavy hair, highlights of red in the harsh kitchen light, long side burns who's points hit his high cheek bones, a wide mouth with lips like seagulls wings, brown eyes that suddenly glinted with mischief. His robe had fallen open again revealing swirling black hair over pale white skin across an expansive chest. Chris' brain twitched. Something was off. He knew stoned, and he wasn't getting stoned. Manetti scratched his chest but his fingers lingered in his mat of chest hair. Chris saw him open his robe a bit more to brush his left nipple on his massive pec; he diddled with a thin metal bar that pierced his large tit. Chris placed the spoon in the bowl, took up the proffered joint, took a hit as casually as he could. With a clenched throat, hoping it sounded like he was being offhand, he asked, "So you're his boyfriend. You’re both hustlers?" He was confused, but not by the news that his brother turned tricks, but that Manetti’s nipple, so unusually large, looked so very appealing. He'd never seen a pierced nipple up close in real life. So much was flooding his senses at once it was hard for him to keep up with his thoughts. "Boy, this is strong shit," he said, handing back the joint. "Laced?" "Just a bit." Manetti's grin widened displaying a beautiful row of perfectly white teeth. Why hadn't Chris noticed just how good looking Manetti was before? He had looked at him through a filter as one of his brother’s friends. But whatever the joint was laced with was magnifying Manetti's magnetism. If Manetti was a hustler he must be a very good one, thought Chris. Manetti’ smile, as it grew, highlighted his strong jaw, became the smile of a shark. Chris was easily bait. "This soup is really good," he said, trying to snap out of his gaze. He finished up the last of it. "Uh, can I use your bathroom?" "Other side of the bedroom. Ready for some more soup?" Chris stood up, placing a hand on the back of the chair. For some reason he didn’t feel hungry anymore. “Nah, I’m good.” He glanced out the airshaft and again a slight paranoia gripped him as he looked into the inky darkness. In the apartment across from them something was moving. He was wobbly, but more than stoned, he was suddenly horny. He also saw he was starting to get a woody, one that was pretty evident wearing only thin underwear. Manetti noticed it too. Chris excused himself before it became even more obvious. Suddenly, he was confused by the apartment layout. Off the kitchen was the only other room, a bedroom. Off it, a small closet, and a smaller closet with a toilet and a dinky sink. In the bedroom a sling hung over a futon on the floor. He knew what it was even though it was the first sling he'd ever encountered. He'd seen them in Ben's magazines, the ones he left behind between his mattress. Rawhide, Stroke, Bound and Gagged, and Chris' favorite, Magnum. He saw the leg straps, the leather pillow, the wrist restraints, the mirror perched over the top. He felt himself woozy, and grabbed a leg strap to steady himself. Not the best choice, for it immediately flew away from him and with his other hand he had to grab the metal support. The whole sling set into motion a round of clanging as chains banged against metal posts. "You okay in there?" Manetti's voice called out from the kitchen. He peered around the kitchen door to see if the kid was still standing. "Yeah, I'm good," Chris answered stumbling to the bathroom. "I bet you are," Manetti responded with a laugh. "Ben said you were a choir boy. That really true?" "Really true." He shut the bathroom door, relieved that he had found a room, compact as it was, where he could compose himself. As soon as he shut the door, he struggled to get his act together. He mulled over the fact that there were only two rooms in the entire apartment—kitchen, bedroom. Where was he going to sleep? And, fuck, he couldn’t deny how horny he was for Manetti. He saw how the evening was leading in one direction, and he saw he couldn’t and didn’t want it to go any other way. Manetti would be gentle, he reassured himself. That first embrace in the hallway surely proved he would understand that, being his first time, his brother’s lover would be gentle, would let him take things at his own pace. But he was his brother's lover. But he was also a hustler. His brain was frazzled. Sitting down with his underwear around his ankles he looked up at the back of the bathroom door. Taped to it was a foldout from Magnum magazine. It was Ben and Manetti sixty-nining each other with their forearms up each other's ass. Cocks dripping, Crisco smearing, Ben and Manetti were frozen in a frenzy of fists. Chris popped a rock hard boner and dropped the biggest shit of his entire life. *** Manetti unhooked the leg straps from the end of the sling, folded it in half, then re-attached the straps to the arm hooks. That left the futon on the floor unencumbered from above. He popped in one of Drax's bareback twink videos in the VCR, grabbed the remote and laid back on the futon propping his head with an oversize pillow against the radiator. It was late but the Tina laced joint had him in a semi-energized mood. He was sure Chris must have felt similarly. The toilet flushed and Chris emerged. The boy, still clad only in his white underwear, shirtless, flawless, a thin little scarecrow, stood at the bathroom door. Blond hair, dry now but flying every which way. A perfect skinny beach boy, ten years Ben's baby brother. Their resemblance was minimal. Whereas he and Ben worked out regularly, having pecs, necks, and 'ceps to prove it, Chris, looking around the small studio confused, seemed frail. He was more than a little intimidated by all the pornography he was discovering on the walls, porn stars Manetti and Ben had either known or worked with over the years. Mostly signed. "To Manetti / Good times, bad times, baddest times! Rich" or "Big Ben / Your name does not lie, Eric." "Come. Sit," encouraged Manetti patting the space next to him. "How you feel? Like the joint?" "Yeah, man," said Chris, trying to sound cool. "That's powerful dope. It's dusted?" "Nah, a little Tina. You like?" Chris gave a single nod with a flicker in his eye that Manetti zeroed in on. He casually took a sip of water he’d brought from the kitchen. "Want to try it pure?" Chris sat next to him cross legged. "I guess so," he said. Manetti could smell him. A little grungy, a slight smell of urine probably from the wet, dirty underwear. Ben had told Manetti he thought his little brother was on-again and off-again homeless, at least not staying at his house much cuz of the mom's new boyfriend. Manetti grabbed a pipe from the window ledge, set his glass aside, and stuffed the pipe with a little white powder from a baggy. He handed the pipe to Chris. "Have you blown clouds before?" Manetti knew the answer before he asked it. Chris shook his head. Up close Chris was even more striking than across the table. It was his eyes, soulful lost puppy eyes. When you first looked at him he looked just like any skinny white kid, but sitting crossed legged next to him, you could really see how lost he was. His six pack abs wasn’t from working out but from not eating enough, his ribcage pronounced as he breathed. Hairless chest, tiny nipples, little or maybe no armpit hair. The kid didn't even look like he shaved yet. Whereas he was all hair. From his heavy five o'clock shadow that was dark even right after a morning shave, strong jaw with a cleft chin, his father’s rugged aquiline nose, shaggy, unkempt cluster of chestnut hair, and trade-famous pointed sideburns. "Just inhale it like you would hash and hold it." Chris did as he was told. The kid was nothing if not a fast learner. And obedient. The idea of introducing him to Drax crossed his mind. He brushed the thought away. The kid was much too cherry. Drax would eat him alive. Still, what was he going to do with him after tonight? He was definitely going to get in the way of his trade. As Chris was about to blow the smoke out, Manetti took the boy’s mouth and covered it with his own. He breathed in the smoke from Chris' lungs, held it for a beat before exhaling. "No need to waste it. You take it from me this time." Manetti lit the bottom of the pipe, waited for the white cloud to form, then sucked it in. Out of the corner of his eye he could tell Chris was grappling with how Manetti had grabbed his chin and brought their lips together. Chris watched him, biting his lip with anticipation, moving closer to Manetti’s mouth. It was almost like kissing, something he'd never done with man. Manetti motioned with his finger and Chris moved in. Manetti exhaled into him, breathed a new kind of life into him. As he held it, Manetti leaned back against the pillow. "So, what's your plan, Chief?" Chris followed suit and leaned back into the large pillow he shared with Manetti. After he'd exhaled, Manetti took a long sip of water. He offered the glass to Chris. "Don't really have one. Thanks." Chris took a sip and handed the glass back to Manetti. "Not a really good plan, Chief—not to have a plan. Ben thought you were queer. He right?" Manetti was fixed on the TV, watching a blond dude about Chris' age but not as skinny getting sucked by a balding, stocky daddy type. "I used to beat off to Ben's porn. So I guess, yeah. Twice, when I stayed over at my best friend Jeff's place, before his parents didn’t want me coming around anymore, we jacked off to some straight shit.” Chris looked around again at all the porn posters and photos hanging on the walls. “I think I recognize that guy in that poster there from one of them," he said pointing to a huge 'roided porn star with an extra-long dick, one with perfect hyper-masculine features perched on the hood a Rolls Royce. It was signed "To Manetti, thanks for the ride, TJ. "Mr. No Balls? Hah! Tyler says he's straight, only does gay for pay. Don't believe him. You can shit in his mouth and he'd pay you for it." Chris barked out a surprised laugh. “No, seriously he loves twinks. I bet if I call him right now, he’d come over and ask you shit in his mouth.” Manetti made a motion like he was going to get up and call, but Chris, laughing, held him back. Chris’ hand on Manetti’ shoulder, feeling it's mass, registered quickly on both of them. Chris quickly put his hands back in his lap. Manetti added a little more white power to the pipe. "’Nother hit, Chief?" Chris nodded. His heart was already pounding and he felt flush all over. He was also pulling on his pud unconsciously, getting a little wet spot on the tip, staining his already stained underwear. Manetti took note, seeing the kid was totally unaware of what he was doing. He calmly fired up the pipe and slowly leaned into Chris. He blew into his lungs lightly adding just the tip of his tongue, and deliberately scraping the boy’s face lightly with his cheek. Chris's eyes widened. He'd never felt a beard against his face like that. "So that's it. A couple wanks with Jeff, you on one end of the couch, your best bud on the other, eyes glued straight to the TV. Aware of him but never dared to looking. Am I right or am I right?" "Yeah, something like that.” Chris’ mind spun. His next words flew out of him as if he was compelled to confess to Manetti. “Except one time this real nerd, Kyle—I never told nobody this—he helped me with some math homework. His parents both worked so we were alone at his house. Everyone knew he was a fairy. Ran like a girl. We were in his bedroom. He put his hand on my pants, which usually kind of hangs cuz I don’t hitch ‘em up, and he pulled them right off me and gives me a blow job. Like, I didn’t even stop him even though he was sucking my dick. I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” But it felt good being open with Manetti. He felt a mild release and a kind of excitement in the act. "Did you give Kyle a blow job back?" Chris scoffed at the thought. Then after a beat, added, “Actually, I thought about it. Sometimes late at night, jacking off under the covers, I remembered how much I liked it. How soft his mouth was. How it felt to cum into it, into this big wet thing. Like how I didn't have to hold back at all. Like how maybe I’d like to give Jeff a blow job. Give him the same feeling. Like he wouldn’t have to hold back and just come in my mouth and I’d swallow it. Okay, shut up. Stop talking now,” he said, talking to himself in a voice that could have been his father's. Manetti laughed, but made a quick U-turn and became serious. "Well, what wasn't nice, Chief, is that you should always reciprocate. Know what I mean? I mean if I gave you a blow job, I'd expect you'd give me one back. That’s only fair, right? And if I rimmed your ass, I expect you'd return the favor." "What’s rimming?" asked Chris. Manetti looked at him sideways, saw he was honestly confused. This kid was too innocent to be believed! “You must have seen it in one of Ben’s magazines.” Chris shook his head. Manetti found the remote control and sped the video up. "There. See what that kid’s doing?" Manetti pointed at the screen where the blond kid was under the older daddy’s hairy ass. "He’s eat out man's pussy." "The fuck out!" said Chris but didn't take his eyes from the screen. Manetti saw the kid's boner tenting up in his shorts. "That's fucking nasty, man. Gross! Why would someone do that?" Yet the boy’s eyes couldn’t be pried from the screen with a crowbar. He was pulling again at his underwear. "It's like getting a blow job but a hundred times better.” He motioned to Chris’ hardon. "Looks as if you like the nasty." Chris stopped pulling at his dick alarmed. “Wait. I’ll fast forward. You're gonna love this." The VHS tape sped up, then skidded to a stop. The boy was now under a rim seat with the daddy sitting on top. A close-up showed the boy lifting his head, licking the daddy’s balls then sticking his tongue deep into the daddy’s hairy ass. "I bet you’d be good under there." Chris felt his whole skin glisten in a light sweat. His nerves felt electric. Manetti flicked off the room lamp. The room basked in the dark glow of the TV. Chris felt an imaginary blanket was enveloping him and Manetti, separating them from the world. With the light off, he had an urgent need to take off his underwear and bare himself to Manetti. Manetti sensed it and reached out and slipped off Chris' underwear. The kid had a nice seven inch rod, rigid and beaded with pre-cum. Very little pubic hair. Looked like he clipped it, too. His legs were hairless, thin and smooth. Such smooth pale skin got him excited and he casually opened his robe revealing his long, uncut cock angling above his firm, hairy belly. Chris looked at him achingly. He took the boy's hand and placed it on his manmeat. Chris caressed it lightly at first, the first time he'd ever touched a man’s penis. Manetti felt him quickly go from a light touch to a firm grip. He pumped a little in the boy's hand. The hand barely wrapped around his shaft. But what he did hold was like being in the grip of a cobra. His other hand aimed for Manetti’s chest. His finger ran through his chest hair making a bee-line for his pierced nipple. When he make contact Manetti could wait no longer. He pounced, gripping Chris’ legs and spinning him around, pulling his legs into the air to expose his butthole. He dove down to engulf his sphincter and the kid let out a moan of pure pleasure, his neck arched looking up to his face. "Oh, fuck, dude," Chris cried. "Oh, shit that feels good. Jesus. Christ! Oh shit." It coaxed Manetti to pull the boy's pursed asslips apart even more and deep dived his tongue into this virgin hole. “Push out,” ordered Manetti. "More!" The boy hadn't wiped well and there was an acrid taste of shit around the kid's stained hole. It horned Manetti even more, driving his tongue deeper into this nasty, puckering pit. “Push fucker!” Every nerve ending in Chris' bunghole bristled in pleasure as he pushed out his hole. Manetti's long tongue dug into the hole, which fought instinctively against entry. Manetti’s mouth was relentless, chewing, licking, sucking on the boy's ass lips. Chris tried fighting against the tongue from entering, but bit by bit he felt the pleasures of giving up his hole, physically and mentally, to push out and let this man he’d met only a few hours before enter him in his most vulnerable spot. Manetti beard scratched his tender skin, but it felt incredible, loosened him more and more. He heard the man spit, his hole dripping wet, and felt a finger entering him. This was the first time he'd ever been penetrated, and though it was uncomfortable and hurt, at the same time it excited him. He felt conflicted, fooling around with his brother's boyfriend, afraid of where this might lead. But he knew where he wanted it to lead. Manetti held his legs firmly, looked down into his open face. Chris was afraid and yet attracted at the same time. Manetti was all hair, chest, shoulders, a black jungle around his cock, even a bit of hair on his back that he felt with his legs. Manetti held his legs over his shoulders to dig into that smooth, tasty boyhole. From that vulnerable position, Manetti sucked in a testicle, then the other, which made the kid cry out in pleasure and surprise. He then returned to that beautiful virginal, pliable, slowly opening tunnel. The sensation of having his hole eaten was driving him wild. Hoarsely, he spat out, "Mike, I want to return the favor." Manetti looked down into the boy's face, became curious, wondering if the kid would do it or would cop out at the last minute. He released him and the kid scurried through Manetti’s legs, putting himself beneath the man's furry butt like he'd seen the twink do on TV. Manetti squatted over his face as he felt the boy’s lips surrounding his crack. The kid pulled on Manetti's legs to get him to squat lower. "Oh, fuck yeah. You're as big of a pig as your brother. Eat my shithole, boy. Dig in, get lost in it.” Manetti ground his ass over the boy’s face. “Rank, right? Be a little toilet pig. You felt what I did, how deep I got. Return that favor. Be a sewer. Be a cell pool. Just give in to it. Get lost in there." And Chris did. His cock remained an iron pole, Manetti noted, while his tongue didn’t stop for a moment cleaning his dirty shithole. Chris had never felt as uninhibited as this. Manetti’s whole butt was one massive trench of black hair. The crack seemed to go on forever. He licked and licked, searching to find the center. Manetti’s musky odor drove his brain into delirium. He was a boy on a mission and would not give up until he made Manetti’s hole feel as good as Manetti had made his. Minutes went by till he arrived, finding the smooth oasis of flesh through the dark brush. It pulsed with heat on his tongue, and gave off the pure scent of a man. He couldn't believe how wonderfully soft the skin felt across his tongue nor the nasty taste that reeked from his hole. Instead of being repulsed by the stench, he was in a frenzy to please Manetti but he also found he really liked it. He did what Manetti had done and lapped and circled the hole, until he found he could dart his tongue inside, which produced an animal snarl from Manetti. "Rrrrrr, fuck yes, piglet. Get in there you little fuck pig." Then something happened Chris didn't quite understand, but knew in his gut he liked right away. The hole he was chewing on opened up slightly and a vast area of Manetti's rectum pushed out with it. His mouth was confronted with his first rosebud, although at the time he didn't know what it was. Right after this mound of gelatinous flesh revealed itself to him, like some startled sea creature, it pulled back into its hole. Manetti went wild. Chris felt his legs being pulled in the air again, separated, a tongue slithered into his entrance. An infinite amount of pleasure, giving and receiving, before there was a brief pause, then a heavy hand cracked against his butt. "Say, Thank you, Sir." "Thank you, Sir," repeated Chris, his ass stinging, feeling a sense of shame and pleasure and pride all at the same time. "You taste so fucking good, I want to eat you up, pig boy," growled Manetti. "Let's get you in the sling. I have to bang this pretty pussy." They sprang up and he quickly showed Chris how to connect the legs chains back to the hooks. Chris rubbed his butt and felt the heat from the slap Manetti had given him. "Climb in, boy, and I'll give you the ride of your life." As Chris was figuring out how to get in, Manetti said, "You liked blowing clouds?" Chris nodded. "Then you're going to love this." He quickly poured some powder in a shot glass, mixed a little water in it and sucked it up in a plunger. "Okay, settle in. Put your legs through here.” Manetti paused, then ran a hand up and down Chris' torso, ending by fondling his cock and balls. “You happy you met me?” Chris nodded. "And you've never been fucked before?" Chris shook his head fiercely, anticipating what was to come. “Comfy?" Chris nodded again eagerly, starting to slowly hump Manetti's paw. "Not so fast, boy. I want you to learn to feel it not just in your dick but also inside your hole.” Manetti pulled Chris' dick away from his body to the boy cried, then let it slap against his belly. “You gonna do whatever Sir says, yes slave?" Manetti squeezed a little lube on Chris' hole. He wet a finger in his mouth and pushed it up Chris' ass a good inch or two. It was uncomfortable for a second while Manetti twisted his finger lubing all side of Chris’ tight cave, but Manetti kept wiggling it around and Chris not only got used to the sensation, but found himself writhing a bit on Manetti finger, trying to get him to penetrate him further. "Okay, this'll be a little cold and might sting, but just for a minute." Manetti replaced his finger with the plunger, stuck it up Chris's canal as far as it would go, and then shot the liquid into the boy's empty hole. Shit yes, it was cold and stung like a bitch. Chris bore down as Manetti finished injecting his ass with the cold liquid, then pulled the plunger out of him. At first he felt nothing but coldness warming up inside him. He felt a bit let down anticipating something intense. Manetti looked him over, stroked his erect dick and tweak his small nipples. “Feel anything?” Chris shook his head. Manetti went over to the VHS recorder and switched tapes. While it was revving up, Manetti put on a leather cap and vest over his otherwise naked body. Chris was truly impressed, if not a little intimidated, by the severe transformation a few bits of costume made to Manetti. It also altered Manetti's attitude. Manetti looked straight out of one of his brother’s leather magazines. It brought out a sense of privilege and arrogance even. Manetti went to the bookshelf and opened a box and pulled out an orange capped rig. He strapped his arm with a tourniquet, feeling for a vein against the dim TV light. He slammed himself and started breathing heavily. His mouth shaped into an round 'O' and his eyes widened in sudden astonishment. Something was happening in Chriss too, something like a serpant eminating from his hole. He felt a strong surge of desire. "You look so fucking great, Sir. Like a god." Chris could not see Manetti’s eyes, only dark pockets where his eyes should be. Chris couldn’t help himself and started pleasuring the feeling his ass. Words flew out of him. "Or like the devil," he whispered like at confession. Something heating up inside his hole made him feel intensely desirous of Manetti. Wanting him like he never wanted anything before. Manetti cough. "FUCK!" Manetti shouted widening his eyes. "Christ fuck!" He could barely stand, and leaned heavily on the bookcase. "Hot damn, boy. How you feeling?” He was breathless, trying to put the orange cap back on the rig. “You feel it yet?" Manetti looked to him out of focus, but a feeling of euphoria was sweeping through Chris' body, making himself pull on his cock at the same time he fingered his butthole. He felt electric, energized, wanted Manetti to touch him all over, maybe even smack him again. "I feel great, Sir,” he said. As Manetti staggered from the bookcase and came closer, he sat up in the sling and ran his hands across Manetti’s hairy chest. "I wanted to do that the second I came in the door, Sir. Fuck, you are so hot. My ass is yours. Whatever you want to do to it. Beat me if you want to." "Beat my ass—SIR!" returned Manetti, now holding on to the chains while he was rushing, where Chris' butt lay exposed, so desirous of being fucked for the very first time. "Yes, SIR, beat my ass again—SIR." And Manetti did, harder than the first time. "Thank you, SIR," replied Chris, falling back against the leather pillow, pushing his ass out of the sling. A light turned on in the room across the airshaft. Chris didn't notice, but Manetti did. "You're welcome, boy. Let's get you settled in." With that Manetti quickly locked his leg restraints, still breathing heavily, punctuating fucks under his breath as he worked. Before Chris knew it, Manetti had restrained his arms above his head. He gladly went along with whatever Manetti wanted to do. As long as it didn't involve needles. That was the only thing that freaked him a little but he tried not to think about it. If it wasn't for the feeling of horniness overcoming every molecule in his body he might have been spooked by the restraints. But now he was accepting everything that this hairy demon breathing over him was doing. It was easy to inhale Manetti’s pheromones, which blotted out the picture of him hunched over, shooting up. Or maybe he secretly liked that. He didn’t know what he thought anymore. He arched his head toward Manetti’s cock. It was veiny, half sheathed in foreskin. Leaking pre-cum. He licked it. A taste of salt and cheese. Nothing had ever tasted so delicious and desirable to him. He still had a trace of Manetti’s dirty ass on his lips and it mixed with salt and cheese from his foreskin. Manetti turned on a light over the sling and flipped on a video camera propped next to the bookcase. Manetti slowly turned the boy’s peach fuzz face to the side, checked that the view finder was in close, recording each translucent strand of blond hair on the boy's upper lip, and slid his veiny cock into the boy's mouth. He swallowed have his fat nob. Manetti was impressed at how much Chris could take. He pushed him further, getting half his shaft into the boy's mouth, feeling where the boy’s throat constricted, made him choked on his shaft, then skullfucked him at that length for a while as his cock grew from semi-flaccid to fully engorged. Manetti withdrew his cock from his mouth, and a web of pre-cum hung like a spider web between them. He let his uncut cock trace over Chris’ pursed mouth. "Ah Chris," he said looking into his eyes. "I'm going to fucking love knocking you up." Chris felt the words echo in his head, puzzled at first by their meaning. On the TV screen a body was being pummeled by a Master with a whip, with a boy writhing in pain and ecstatically twisting under the lash. He looked back at Manetti. Beyond the harsh light shining on him, in the dim light of the room, he saw covered by the beautiful black fur surrounding Manetti's navel, the three prongs of a biohazard tattoo. Manetti placed a red ball in his mouth and tied it behind his head. Chris realized too late what the ball was for, and started fighting against his bindings. Manetti pushed in between his legs. The kid tried to close his legs but the sling and Manetti easily pried him open. He was exposed and vulnerable. Manetti greased his cock and lubed the boy's tight hole. With his first thrust his aim was true. He slid the entire length of the kid's clutching rectum, straight up to his thick black patch of pubic hairs. The girth of his shaft ripped the boy's hole apart. Manetti's hairy balls smacked into the boy's tailbone. He didn't stop till he was right up the boy's chute, fully inside. The boy cried in anguish behind the red ball, tears in his eyes, panic running across his face. Fiercely he was beathing, spitting saliva through the ball in heaving gulps of air. Spit ran down his chin and cheek. He fought as much as he could against the thickness of Manetti’s enormous shaft, against his cuffed arms and legs, but the struggle only engorged Manetti’s immense tool more. "Fight against it, bitch. I love it." Manetti picked up his pace. The pain was unbearable but he was helpless to stop it, and with every stroke he felt his resistance falling away. The longer it went on, and against his will, he started deriving a small bit of pleasure from the pain. Chris slowly began to unclench against Manetti’s girth. For a while, at the pinnacle of each thrust, Manetti would hold his crotch against Chris' hole, letting the boy experience the magnitude of the amount of raw flesh that filled his hole. Chris felt all the hairs of Manetti's pubis surround his hole. Manetti gyrated inside him. He felt the stiff cock push his insides around, moving everything inside, his bladder, his prostate, a gateway to an inner chamber. The sensations started owning him. Making him feel things he didn't know he could feel, sensations that were newly possible. Manetti felt Chris’ hole beginning to open. He looked into the bound boy’s blue eyes and saw a dawning pleasure deep within him. He wasn’t sure the boy even knew he was beginning to draw pleasure from his pain, but he would know and eventually desire it in ever increasing amounts. He new his journey and he would have the boy follow in his tracks. Tears were being overcome with lust as the chemicals were taking over Chris' body. The boy stopped struggling and for a moment became placid. He grew annoyed with the passivity so with both hands, as hard as he could, he smacked with all his force Chris' ass. It made Chris yelp and clench his sphincter which pleased Manetti. He looked down on the boy and was surprised to see a spark of gratitude in Chris' eyes. Just a spark. He needed to work him harder. They fell into a rhythm. For minutes that turned to hours Chris got used to the battering his hole was taking. When he went slack, Manetti slapped him to tighten him up, or twisted his small nipples until he tried to cry out in pain behind the gag. At the beginning, Chris fought the massive rod slamming into him and the occasional whipping his ass endured. But after non-stop fucking, accepting the alternating pleasure and pain, he came to desire the torpedo that was tearing him inside. The familiar walloping he received growing up, he secretly desired from Manetti. In the mirror he watched and felt his butt turn from pink, to red, to purple. At some point he got lost in it, started thrusting himself to get impaled deeper, to be slapped hard, to be punished for sins he couldn’t name. Manetti felt Chris' entire canal loosening. The ass smacking was now built into their fucking. Chris, in fact, in a haze, began thanking him behind the red ball. Whether or not Manetti heard him was questionable, for Manetti's eyes rolled back in his head and he mindlessly fucked and abused what at times became an anonymous body splayed beneath him. Manetti occasionally snapped out of his daze and saw how much he was controlling this innocent young kid, this younger version of his partner, his boyfriend, his lover—imagined he was fucking an innocent version of Ben, one from long ago—then he would lose himself again to the sheer, dark pleasure he derived from his raw cock having its way in a stranger's body. He felt himself edging closer to a climax as his mind vacillated between thoughts of Ben and this new fresh piece of nameless meat. As he felt he was close to cumming, he broke through to awareness of Chris beneath him. He saw Chris' sweat dick never lost its erection no matter what he did to him. He started playing with the boy's meat, milking him, lightly slapping his face so that he came out of his drugged revelry. "I'm about to cum, Chris,” he said as the boy focused on his mouth and words, “but I’m not going to cum in you unless you cum first, got that? That shows you want me to give you my poz cum. Shows me you want to be my fuckhole no matter what. Lets me own you." Through blurred eyes Chris lobbed his head no, but almost immediately started squirming his cock in Manetti clenched fist. "I can't tell if you're trying to get away from me, fuckhole, or you're jacking yourself in my hand. I think you're jacking, you little cum pig." He broke into a dark smile. "Feel how hard you are?" Chris kept bucking, thrashing, squirming away in a sea of ecstasy and lust, both wanting this man to cum and fearing it with all his fiber, but he couldn't hold back, jacking into his fist and slamming back onto his cock, a see-saw that wouldn't end until he pushed himself over the edge. He let loose the longest stream of cum he'd ever shot. Ribbons of sperm spewed over the room. The boy’s hole clenched and spasmed as he shot, immediately triggered Manetti who gushed in rivers of ropey sperm up the boy's open chute. They both quaked in orgasms, each building on the other’s spuming bodies, until they were thrashing uncontrollably against each other, grinding bone against bone, skin against raw skin, till there was a thrust of Manetti that hung in the air, then one more, then a final lunge plunging Manetti deep inside Chris. He held it there, on the edge, feeling himself unload an afterbirth of cum. Manetti stood dripping heavy sweat onto Chris' glistening chest. He rubbed Chris' cum all over his chest and face. He sucked the boy's small nipples, licked up and down the boy's arms, licked his pits, still hard and draining inside him. “You still with me?” he whispered, as he loosened the ball in Chris’ mouth. “That was fucking fantastic.” The boy’s eyes, drugged as they were, did not lie. Manetti kissed him deep, then lay on top of him feeling his heart beating against his. He rested there for a moment feeling the slickness between them, the kid’s sperm matting his chest and abs and pubes. He licked up a river of the boy’s cum welled in his sternum, and was surprised to see Chris open his mouth for him. The boy had the makings of a true pig, he thought, as he released the drool into the greedy boy's maw. He watched the lust still simmering within the boy as he swallowed. Maybe he was Drax material after all. ***

Hey guys. I’ve been thinking about trying a different direction for a story. It includes a new theme. I hope you like it. Coach Sanders I think deep down I always knew I was gay. It was just there, in the back of my head, waiting for me to quit pretending. Hard to believe now, but back in high school I was a chubby geek. I used to hide behind baggy clothes and spend more time online than outside. My body made that clear. The thought of showering in front of the guys in gym made my stomach twist. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t about being small down there. That wasn’t it. It’s that I knew they’d laugh at my naked body. So, I’d pretend I had somewhere to be or wait by my locker until I could clear out unnoticed. And because I was basically a nobody, I got away with it. Thing is, I used to stare at the jocks, hoping they wouldn’t notice. All the time I’d just tell myself I was looking at them because I wanted a body like theirs. I even kept saying that when I started watching gay porn. But I was only jacking off to solo stuff and imagine my body like that. So, it was ok. But by senior year, I decided to do something about it. So, I hit up Coach Sanders about using the weights. He’s in his fifties, fit, serious. The kind of old school coach who still wears a whistle. I stood there, nervous. Even though I was intimidated, he never gave me shit and kinda watched out for me if the other guys messed with me. That’s what gave me the nerve to tell him I wanted to start on the weights and get in shape. He just sat there, looking me over for second before straightening up. “I’ve been watching you, kid. You’ve got potential,” he told me, standing up and putting a hand on my shoulder. “I can see it. Though, the baggy clothes aren’t helping any. It’s obvious you’re trying to hide your body.” I just stood there, his hand on my shoulder. Eyes locked on mine like he was waiting for something. I took a deep breath and told him the problem was that I wasn’t sure about being in the weight room with the other guys. There was no judgment in his eyes, just a quiet nod like he understood. He gave my shoulder a quick squeeze, then turned and said I could come in once everyone had left. Since he taught a couple of history classes, he'd be in his office late. So I started showing up when it was empty. No noise, no eyes on me. Coach barely said anything at first. Just nods when I walked in. But after a couple of days, he noticed I didn’t have a clue. He’d correct my form, show me how to grip the bar, tell me which muscles I should be working on. I listened during all of it. After about a month, he stood beside me watching as I was benching. “Gotta be honest, kid. I didn’t think you’d stick with it,” he said, looking me over, not holding back. But I didn’t flinch. “I’m starting to see a difference.” I looked at myself and didn’t see much. Maybe a little definition, maybe nothing. But he saw it. After that, he started me on a plan and laid out what I should be doing, how often, how heavy. He didn’t ask if I wanted it. He just handed it to me, and I followed. I couldn’t say no. I didn’t want to disappoint him. Sometimes I’d notice him checking me out, studying me. Not in a way anyone else would notice, but I felt it in my gut. And I started thinking about him without meaning to. The way he moved through the gym like he owned the place. Thick arms, veins visible even when he wasn't flexing. His pecs filling out his polo like it’s one size too small. Sometimes I could barely focus when he was in the room. One night, I dropped a dumbbell mid-set. It hit the floor hard. He was next to me before I could reach for it. “You alright?” he asked, eyes steady, handing it to me. “Yeah. Just slipped,” I told him, my eyes down. Embarrassed I’d fucked up. He didn’t say anything. Just stepped behind me, hands light on my elbows. “Keep your shoulders down. You’re pulling too high,” he reminded me. I adjusted, tried to focus. His voice was calm, steady. “Better. Now breathe,” he said in my ear. His body right up against me. I followed his lead, but my form was off. Not from the weight. From him. From the way he moved against me. Like he knew how my body moved and was moving with it. He pressed into me, adjusting me, until I got it right. “Good boy,” he grunted, stepping in front of me. He stood there for a second about to say something but stopped. “It’s getting late. I’ve gotta finish up some papers. See ya tomorrow, kid.” I trained harder after that. Sweated more. Pushed past the burn. I told myself it was about progress, about discipline like Coach told me. But I kept noticing when he was near. I kept noticing when he wasn’t. I could feel myself changing. Coach didn’t say much, but he changed how he talked to me. Less about the weights and more about what it was doing to me. I started losing even more weight and building more muscle. The results were wild. After my workouts I’d head home, still avoiding the showers. Drenched in sweat, I’d run to my room, stripping down to check myself out in the mirror. The months of work were showing, and my late growth spurt was the cherry on top. My pecs were solid from benching. My abs showed real definition. My biceps were tight and defined when I flexed. And my legs, they were strong from all the squats. I felt more confident. Honestly, I was looking better than ever even though I still wore baggy clothes and still hiding my body. Old habits, I guess. The workouts with Coach also started messing with my head. I wasn’t just physically changing. I was starting to figure out it was more than just having a body like the jocks. I’d started looking at different porn. First it was just two guys jacking off together. But after a while, it wasn’t enough. I needed more. There was no going back. I was jacking off to guys making out, sucking, and fucking each other. I’d surf sites looking for all types, not just jocks. Being a tech geek, I’d downloaded a shitload of porn. One night at the end of the school year, I was halfway through my last set. Sweat clung to my skin. My muscles were pumped. I noticed Coach still hadn’t stopped by. He’d usually stopped by but was holed up in his office, something about grading papers. The room felt quieter without him. I finished my reps and hit the showers. Yeah, I was showering there now, but only after workouts. I dried off and walked over to his office. “Gonna get dressed and head out, Coach,” I told him, leaning in the doorway in my towel. Nodding, he looked up, eyes on me, and stood. "Wait,” he said, pulling out a stack of clothes and tossed me a t-shirt. “I’ve been keeping an eye on your progress. Figured it’s time your clothes caught up.” “Thanks, Coach,” I smiled, feeling the soft, thin cotton. I put it on, walked over to mirror, and looked at myself. “Fuck,” I moaned, seeing it stretched across my pecs, and how it gripped my shoulders and biceps. And the best part, I could see it framing my waist. It didn’t hide much. I could feel myself getting hard as I turned to Coach. He stood there, holding a pair of jeans. “Uh,” I stammered, grabbing them. The towel clung to my waist, barely. “I’ll go put them on. Just got out of the shower and don’t got underwear.” “You’re fine, boy,” Coach smiled and sat down, arms behind his head. “They’ll look better without. Besides, it’s just us guys. Go on. I think I got the right size.” Nodding, I turned around, trying to hide my cock. I tossed the towel, bent down, and stepped into them. I could feel how tight they were as I got my junk in and zipped up. “I think I need a bigger size, Coach,” I told him, seeing my bulge in the mirror. “Naw, they’re fine. You’ve got nothing to hide. Your ass looks good in those,” he smiled, ignoring my growing package. He was right. Coach just sat there, not saying another word, just watching me. I thought about the hours I spent to get here. The late nights, just him and me. The way he pushed me. The way his hands stayed a second too long after a good set. The way he looked at me now. I looked over at him, sitting like he always did, arms crossed. His face didn’t give anything away, but something in his eyes kept me looking for a second longer than I should have. I was sure he knew what I was thinking. I took a deep breath and grabbed for my towel. “Thanks, Coach. See you tomorrow,” I nodded, avoiding his eyes, and headed to my locker for the rest of my stuff. I didn’t look back, but I could still feel him watching. I kept thinking about it the whole way home. It was late when I finally got in and just went straight to my room. I sat on the edge of my bed, still stuck on it. Fuck, I was still hard, and my jeans were feeling even tighter. I peeled them off slowly, remembering Coach’s eyes on me, and tossed them on chair. That’s when I noticed the slip of paper sticking out of the pocket. I reached in and pulled it out. Reading it, I smiled. It was a 6-month membership to the gym downtown with a note from Coach. “Proud of you, Ben. You’ve come a long way from that boy coming to me asking for help. Thought you should keep going. Graduation’s next week, so tonight was it. Last session. Good luck.” I stared at it and read it again. He hadn’t said a word to me. Didn’t mention it when he handed me the clothes. The bastard had fucking planned it that way. I lay back, staring at the ceiling. The note still in my hand. After that, I was just kinda going through the motions. Trying to get through the next week. I saw Coach a few times, in the hallway, at the ceremony. But he never looked at me, not once. He didn’t even bother with a ‘bye.’ It was like all that time with him didn’t happen. The only proof I had was when I looked at the mirror. I started at the gym the week after graduation. It wasn’t like the high school weight room where it was just Coach and me. I was still pissed, but more sad than anything. So, I threw myself into the workouts. I lifted harder, ran faster, and pushed until my muscles screamed. Months of grinding at the gym were paying off. But it didn’t feel like it was enough. Not without him seeing it. That summer I came out of my shell. I was meeting new people but always made time for the few old friends I did have. My parents were out of town for the week, and I’d been at a party earlier. Nothing wild, just enough beer cut the edge off after a long week. I got home, kicked off my shoes, stripped, and flopped on my bed. I’d heard a couple of guys at the party talking about an app they had luck with and decided to check it out. I wasn’t even sure why. Sure, I thought about having sex with a guy. How could I not? I had all that porn. But I wasn’t really out. Not to anyone. Not even to myself, not fully. Still, I set up a profile and uploaded a selfie showing off my pecs and abs. I made sure you couldn’t see my face or recognize my room. I started swiping and scrolling. Then I saw him. It was Coach. My thumb froze over the screen. I stared at his profile, my heart pounding. It was definitely him. Even without a face pic, I’d spent enough time with him to know. I tossed my phone on my bed and started pacing. “Fuck it,” I mumbled, grabbing my phone. I scrolled through his pics, finally getting a look at all of him. There it was. His uncut cock. Veins wrapped around his shaft. It was thick, just like I’d imagined it. Yeah, I had noticed his bulge when he spotted me. Before I could chicken out, I sent him a message. “Hey, Coach. It’s me. Ben. I’ve been wondering about you for a while. Seeing you here, kinda answers it.” He replied right away. “Yeah, I was wondering, too. You think I didn’t see the way you looked at me? I had to pretend I didn’t see it at the end. You made that damn gym feel dangerous.” “Dangerous how?” I asked, already guessing the answer. “Like I wanted to lock the door and ask what the hell you were really thinking. But I couldn’t. Not with you still a student.” “I’m not a student anymore,” I wrote, not saying anything else. I could see he was still online but didn’t respond. I started thinking it was stupid to have said it. Then, I saw his message. “True. And if you came over now, I wouldn’t have to worry about it.” Since I still had his number, I just replied, “Text me your address.” That’s when I noticed my hardon. I threw on the t-shirt and squeezed into the jeans he gave me, checked the mirror, and headed over. The quiet streets and warm air made the buzz go down. I wasn’t sure what I wanted from going there. But knew I wanted to see him. When I got there, he opened the door like he’d been waiting. No shirt, just a pair of shorts. He looked good. Like I said, he was in his 50s, around 6'1", solid with broad shoulders, thick arms. I’d seen him almost every day and now his pics, so I knew he was furry. I was surprised how into it I was. He smiled, seeing me in the clothes he gave me. Stepping aside, he let me in and followed him into the living room. “Figured, you might want one,” he said, handing me a drink. He dropped into the chair across from me, stretched his legs out, looked me in the eyes, and drank. “Rum and Coke.” “Thanks,” I said, taking a sip, like I knew what I was doing. The rum was stronger than I expected. Sweet at first, then sharp. He watched me with that calm look, same as always. I leaned back, trying to seem relaxed, but my leg kept bouncing as I looked around. The place was clean, lived in, soft lighting, music low in the background. We talked about nothing really, just catching up. His voice was calm, steady. I took a gulp, trying to settle into it. That helped. I started to relax. That’s when I finally came out and asked why he had dropped my workouts. Not even a heads-up. He shrugged. I nodded and took another gulp. No judgment. I guess I finally understood “Fuck, Ben,” he smiled, “You’ve bulked up since graduation. You should put some more pics up on your profile.” “Yeah?” I smiled, flexing a bit to show off. “You think so? I just put it up tonight.” “Definitely, but you’ll need someone to help you with it,” he grinned, “If you want them done right.” I sat there thinking about it and nodded. He got up with a smile. That's when I noticed his bulge. It was pretty obvious he was getting hard. Still nervous, I sat there, not saying a word. He walked up to me. His bulge almost in my face. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. “If you want, we can do some now and have them up in no time,” he offered, grabbing a camera on the side table. My mouth hung open. I was practically drooling. He stepped back before I could do anything. I looked at him. Really looked. The booze had kicked in. I felt warmer. Relaxed. Open. I wanted to see where this was going. I nodded and stood up, then slowly took off my shirt. The room felt warmer. Or maybe it was me. He guided me over to the wall and adjusted the light. Told me to turn just a little and started shooting. After a few, he said the light would hit better if I showed more. I wasn’t sure. Besides, I was commando, like I’d been since graduation. Looking up, I saw Coach holding out a jockstrap to me. It looked beat up. Stretched out like it’d seen some action. Kinda dirty. Like maybe it hadn’t been washed in a while. “It’s one of my old ones. It’ll do,” he grinned, eyeing my bulge. Looking at it brought me back to all the loads I shot thinking about guys wearing one. Their cocks outlined in the pouches. The look of the straps framing those muscled asses as they got fucked. “Go on boy, put it on. It’ll make that ass pop,” he told me. Fuck if I didn’t want to! I tossed my socks and sneakers. And this time I didn’t hide it. I dropped my jeans. My cock was growing as I stepped out of them. I put on the jockstrap, filling up the pouch with my junk. He didn’t flinch. He just lifted the camera and told me to hold still. I did and let him see me. He circled me, snapping pics, all the time telling me how sexy I was. How I could have my pick of anyone I wanted. I was feeling the buzz mixing with horniness. That’s when I finally noticed he’d tossed his shorts. He was totally hard. I couldn’t keep my eyes off it. I’d seen pics of his cock on the app. But it was the first time I’d seen a hard cock in real life besides my own. What surprised me more was that even hard, his foreskin still covered the tip. Then, he lowered the camera and stepped in close. His hand brushed my cock, light but deliberate, as he adjusted the pouch. “Better,” he sighed and leaned in. His breath was warm, close enough to feel. His eyes locked on mine. I didn’t move, didn’t speak. Then he broke the moment. “Come on,” he smiled, leading me down the hall. “You gotta see yourself.” His bedroom was everything I expected. It felt like him. The large bed was made tight with no mess. The air smelled clean with a hint of sweat. Coach walked me over to the mirror without saying a word. He stood behind me, hands on my shoulders. I could feel his cock poking at my back as I caught his eyes in the mirror. By this time, there was no hiding it. My cock was at full mast. Up, tight against the mesh. I was leaking. For a second, I just stared at the sharp lines carving down from my hips. I ran my hands down them, tracing the V. Something I never thought I’d see on me last year. “Goddamn, boy. If you were mine, I’d keep you strapped 24/7,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around me, and gripped my pecs. “A perfect musclejock.” “Fuck!” I moaned as his fingers spread and played with my nips. "Flex those guns, boy," he said, voice rough. "Show Coach what you built out of that flabby mess you were." My biceps swelled under the challenge. My pecs popped as I clenched and held the tension. He leaned in. His eyes locked on me. I flexed even harder. “That’s it, boy. Show it off,” he grunted in my ear, sliding his hands down my abs until they landed on my hips. He pushed back just enough to make room for his cock and looked at me again. Turning around, I stood there. My cock was practically shredding the frayed pouch. I lifted my chin, just barely. That’s all it took. His hand slid to the back of my neck. His fingers gripped me tightly and pulled me into him. His lips found mine and our tongues started wrestling. I could feel his cock sliding against my abs. Breaking the kiss, he bit my bottom lip and pulled it between his teeth. I groaned. He liked it. I could feel his hand moving down my back and over my ass, his mouth still holding on to me. I wrapped my arms around him. It only made him rougher. He was taking control of me. Letting go, he slipped a couple of fingers in my mouth. “That’s it boy. Show Coach how hungry you are,” he growled. His fingers explored my mouth. I started sucking, covering them in spit. Next thing I know, he bit my neck. I lost it. It was all he needed. His slick fingers were tapping against my hole. I arched, letting him know I wanted it. “Good boy,” he smiled, slipping a finger in, and led me to the bathroom. “Let’s get you ready. Strip and get in.” I saw the chrome attachment shining in the shower and got excited. Fine, I admit it. I’d looked it up. I’d been thinking about being fucked for a while now. I guessed what was going to happen. Never done it myself, but Coach walked me through it. It was awkward at first. But with his hands on me, it made a difference. It was like he’d done this to others before. After a bit, it was obvious I was clean. But Coach grabbed a squirt bottle, and put more in, ‘just to make sure.’ Told me to hold it in for a bit, then I’d be ready. He stood watching me, making sure it wasn’t leaking out. Satisfied, he told me to empty, finish up, and put my jockstrap back on. He’d be in the bedroom waiting for me. I turned on the faucet, hands roaming as I spread lather across my pecs to my nips. I pulled and felt them harden up. The pain was connecting with the tingling in my hole. I moved down to my abs, tracing the deep cuts, then grabbed my junk with both hands and started rubbing. I’d never felt so fucking turned on. “Hurry up, boy!” Coach barked, getting me out of the moment. “Get your ass in here, NOW!” I realized he was waiting for me. I called out to him, “On my way, Coach!” I rinsed, dried off, and pulled on my jockstrap. I looked in the mirror. It was tight, perfect. I headed for the bedroom. Coach was on the bed, watching me. His eyes locked on me like he’d been waiting for this. I felt hot all over. My skin buzzed as I slowly walked to the foot of the bed. The closer I got, the more I started feeling the burn in my hole. Something was happening. My chest felt tight, my skin alive. I was horny. Yeah, but it was more than that. I so wanted this. And I didn’t care what happened next. I just knew I was ready. Coach was studying me. His eyes steady, taking in every reaction as he motioned me to him. "Yeah, boy. Get over here," he ordered, stroking his thick thighs, spread wide open. Cock hard and ready. Slowly, I crawled onto the bed and got on my knees between his thighs. He watched how I breathed. How my body tensed. How I looked at him. I looked down at his cock, sticking straight up, foreskin still covering the tip. I could feel my hole twitching. Then he moved. No warning. Just a shift. “I always had my eye on you. Knew what you were capable of. Been fucking wanting this since before you first came to me, asking,” he growled, grabbing my head and yanked. “You aren’t the first one I got in shape.” Down I went, face to face with Coach’s cock. I could smell the day on him. Fucking sweat from being out in the hot sun all day. I didn’t know what came over me, but I started sniffing it as he worked his hand down my back. He started working my hole again with a slick finger. It was crazy. I was loving it and my moans got louder. “Fucking jockpig,” he laughed, working it deeper. “You like Coach’s smell, don’t ya?” There it was again. I could feel the burn getting stronger, but I didn’t care. It felt good. All I could think about now was Coach’s cock. I could see the precum oozing from his foreskin. “Fuck yeah, Coach,” I moaned, reaching out with my tongue. He stayed in me, making sure I felt his rough finger sliding and digging around. All the time, I lapped at his cock. I could taste it sliding over my tongue and down my throat. It was sharp and clean. Then I felt it. Another finger sliding in. Everything I’d ever imagined about being with a guy was happening. It wasn’t with someone my age, but I didn’t care. It was Coach. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I wanted him to show me. The burn was hitting every nerve as he opened me up, getting me ready. It was all I needed. I opened my mouth wide and went down on him. “Goddamn cocksucker. Get me ready.” Coach moaned, feeling my lips sliding over the foreskin, pushing it back on the shaft. I took it down about half-way. He just sat there, slowly starting to fuck my face. I tried not to gag, but spit was pouring from my mouth. The deeper the strokes, the more I moaned. I wanted it ready for my hole. I sucked harder. “Just relax, nice and slow. You got it,” he murmured, holding my head with both his hands until I was nose deep in sweaty pubes, my chin on his balls. I kept at it, sucking on him. His leaking cock was dripping down my throat as I gripped his thighs. His thrusts were getting harder and faster. “Alright, enough,” he growled, grabbing me, and shoved me back. He leaned in, his mouth almost at my hole. I could feel his hot breath on it. Then, he flicked his tongue at it. “Shit, yeah,” I moaned, never thinking it’d be like this. He was fucking me with his tongue. Coach ate me out for a while then pulled up. My hole was on fire, hungry, and aching. That’s when I finally saw it. It wasn’t showing in any of his pics, but I could see it now. A black scorpion tattooed on the tip of his cock! Its tail wrapped around it. The stinger going under and into the piss slit. How did I miss it?! Seeing my reaction, Coach spread my legs and moved in before I could do anything. “You don’t know how many fucking times I thought about breeding you,” he growled, teasing my hole with his cock. “I knew it the first day you asked about working out that I’d make you into the perfect fucking poz musclejock.” His words were hitting me, reminding me of those nights when he was pushing me harder and harder. Making me want it. I could see the lust in his eyes but then, he got serious and stopped. “But then you fucking got under my skin, boy,” he sighed. “Like I said, you aren’t the first. Just the one I never should’ve let get this close. That’s why I ended it.” I should’ve been freaking out, but my hole was aching. I couldn’t take it anymore. “Fuck me,” I whimpered. The look on his face suddenly changed. “Yeah? You want it, huh?” he smiled, pushing his cock at my hole, again. “Just say it, boy.” “Oh, God!” I moaned, my body giving me away. I lifted my hips and offered myself up. “I wanna be your poz musclejock, Coach.” That’s all it took. He started into me. “Shit!” I cried out, feeling the tip stretching my hole as he punched through. “Fuck, boy,” he grunted, feeling me tightening up. “You’re still fucking tight. I got plenty more to train that hole. But for now, let’s try this.” I wasn’t really paying attention to what he was saying. I was trying, but I still couldn’t relax enough to take him any deeper. That’s when I saw him grab a brown bottle from the side table. I recognized it from some of the raunchier porn I’d gotten into. I watched him unscrew the bottle and take a long snort. “This’ll loosen you up,” Coach moaned, handing me the bottle. I could see the poppers were getting to him. I looked him in the eyes and put the bottle up to my nostril and breathed in. “Fuck,” I growled, feeling it hit me at the same time Coach pushed into me. “Another,” he ordered, “Opening you up, boy. No going back.” This time, it worked. I could feel him sinking in. “God! Give it to me,” I whimpered, his shaft splitting me open. “I DON’T HEAR YOU, BOY!” he yelled, hitting my prostate. I kept moaning, feeling him sliding over it. Pushing deeper. It felt like I was floating. Not really in my body but still aware of what was happening. I didn’t know what it meant. Didn’t care. Everything was a blur. But I knew he was fucking me now. And I didn’t want him to stop. “FUCKING BREED ME!” I yelled, “FUCKING POZ ME, COACH!” Coach pumped into me, pushing himself into my guts. His balls banged against me. His grip got tighter. “Fucking ass feels good, boy,” Coach growled, “Just fucking tight enough.” I just groaned. I couldn’t speak. My cock was twitching. He just kept on, ramming into me. I was loving it, wanting him to fill me up with his poz load. “Been waiting for this since I started seeing results,” Coach said, letting it settle into my head. “That ass getting high and tight. Just begging for my poz loads.” “Shit yeah,” I moaned, realizing I had done it all for him. “I fucking wanted to be your musclejock since day one, Coach. Fucking wanted to make you proud.” I was panting and bucking, pushing back on his cock the whole time. I wanted it all the way in me. Each time he hit my prostate, I’d push back for more. “Fucking cockpig,” he growled, “Gonna have you begging for other poz cocks soon.” I was too much into it to answer. That’s when he sank down all the way and stayed there. “Fuck yeah,” he grunted, “It’s all in.” “Goddamn, it!” I moaned, squirming. Then he started ramming into me. Hard and fast. Sweat was flying off him. His eyes hard, like a hunter who knew he’d set up the perfect shot. Closing the space between us, he wrapped his arms around me. He held me tight. He was close. I clenched down. He started sucking in air short and fast. Then he slowed but went long and hard, the last one pushing me over the edge. “Shit yeah!” I growled, shooting biggest load ever as I felt his cock spasming in me. “Load me up, Coach!” “FUCKING TAKE IT!” he yelled, his swollen cock finally filling my hole with his poz load, and fell on me. He stayed in me for a while, both of us now covered in sweat until he pulled out and sat back. "You feel that in you, don't you, boy?” he grinned, fingering my sloppy hole. “Your first poz load.” “Yeah, Coach,” I growled, grabbing him tight, and pulled him back on me hard. My mouth crashed into his, rough and hungry. “Fucking thanks,” I panted against his lips, my breath raw and grateful. “You’re welcome, boy,” Coach smiled, showing me his red-stained cum slick fingers. “It’s starting. You feel it? It won’t be long.” “Shit,” I moaned, sucking on them. I could taste the metallic sharpness mixed with the saltiness of his load. “Gonna be your fucking poz musclejock, Coach.” “That you are, boy,” he growled and slipped a buttplug in my hole to make sure. “MY fucking poz musclejock. I got so much to show you.” “Can’t wait, Coach,” I muttered, rolling over and burying my face in his furry pecs.

I'll gladly drive down for this.

I want to spend all day in a sauna with very old men breeding me. Only 65 and older. All body types, all looks, any cock size. Sucking them dry and just getting bred over and over and over by grandpa's. My hole flooded and dripping with hot, sticky old man sperm. Maybe it's time to quit prep and let grandpa get me pregnant and watch my fit, healthy body waste away and become like them. Let them destroy my health. My ultimate act of submission to these sexy old trolls. Lately all I wanna do is give myself to elderly men. I'm obsessed.

The longuest i sucked one Dick was 4 hours. I asked the guy to do what he wanted While i was sucking without informîg me. So he cummed three time an pissed once, without saying nothing and i swallowed all he did.

Yeah that's a long time, I'd prefer much shorter want to get to drink from tap or get the load, I'd prefer oral to be the foreplay to breeding my hole!

Daddy said he would be right back but that we could have fun while he was gone. The jock took the bong and reloaded it and made me kneel in front of him and the camera could see both of us. He lit the torch and had me inhale and said to hold it. Then told me to blow it over his dick and start blowing him. He put the bong down and one time I was going down on him he forcefully held my head down until I was breathing his pubes and held me there. I tried to swallow and could feel my throat hugging his dick. I was choking but I was loving it and was trying to get more of it inside me. Eventually he let me out for air. I kept blowing him and every now and then he would hold me just like that. Tears were coming out and I was drooling and breathing snot. Producing so much saliva. The feeling of running out of air was so hot to me my dick had gotten hard in spite of the T. The spit was falling down my chin into my chest mixing with the lube. The jock scooped up some of that spit from my mouth and chin, rubbed it across my chest and abs and used it as lube to stroke my dick. He laid down on a couch next to the bed and told me to sit on his face and suck his dick. I did that and he stuck his tongue in me, chewed on my hole, and spread my cheeks apart, sticking fingers and tongue. He was doing so much it was driving me wild and making it easier to throat his dick. He stuck his nose in my ass and then moved the stubble on his chin up and down my hole making me moan. He moved one hand to push my head down and again held me firmly and I was loving it, instead of resisting I was wrapping my arms around his body to push myself more onto his cock. we did this for what felt like hours. The jock told me to get on the sling and attached the restraints so I couldn’t move my hands or feet. And then he produced this gas mask with a long hose he put it on me and capped the hose it would be a little while before I ran out of air but I could feel it happening in the meantime he pulled out a baggy and took a shard and pushed it inside my ass I could see all this on the big screen and even though I felt I was suffocating and started to wrestle with the restraints, I could see my dick was rock hard and dripping precum the jock uncapped the hose and I felt cool air come in and took a few deep drags. He started stroking my dick with one hand and using three fingers from his other hand rotating it and stretching my hole and I was bucking my ass trying to get more of his hand in me

The guy fucked me for a while, biting me in the neck and pushing my head down on daddy. It felt like his dick was getting bigger and I knew he was going to cum. After he did and left I felt another pair of hands separating my cheeks and another dick plowed me. This went on for a couple of hours and I took about 8 or 9 loads. Daddy got up and closed the door and told me I needed a break. He gave me more Gatorade. I was sweating bullets and feeling a bit warm and very sensual. I was climbing onto daddy, his fingers found my ass and started grinding his hand basically begging him to stick his fingers in. Three fingers went in at once and I was grunting riding them, making out, loving the heat and the sweat. Soon it was four fingers and I was gasping for breath. His phone buzzed, he set me down in the bed and started fucking me while he texted someone. He asked if I liked how I was feeling, I said I did. He leaned in close and asked if I wanted to keep going. I said yes. He asked if I wanted to keep feeling this way. I uhuhed yes. He reached in the cubby under the bed and produced a glass pipe and a torch lighter. I felt a bit of uneasy because I didn’t know what it was but it seemed more hardcore than weed. He sensed it and told me I had already done some because he put in my ass earlier and I had said I liked it so why not keep going. I said I didn’t know how. He said he would show me. There was something in the pipe already, it was frosty white. He put the lighter under, coughed to mask the click of the torch and started melting the stuff, he said he would take a hit and shotgun it to me. I saw him start to take the hit and the swirl in the pipe. It seemed like forever and I was hypnotized and then he turned off the torch and kept inhaling. When he stopped he motioned me to come closer, put the torch down and with his now free hand he held my head to his and our mouths together and exhaled forcing me to inhale the hit, some escaped around our lips. I exhaled back into his mouth and he back into mine. After a few exchanges I was spinning and feeling so horny. Someone knocked on the door. He put the pipe and torch under the pillow , opened the door and let this other jock like dude in and closed it. He introduced us and said he would be joining us. His friend was hard and dropped his towel. He picked me up like I was a rag doll and sat me on his dick. Daddy pulled out the pipe and put the stem to my lips and coughed again to mask the torch. Then told me to inhale. I did. Greedily. Then he motioned me to shotgun the heat to his friend. The guy took it and gave it back and started rocking me on his dick. Daddy motioned us down so that I was riding the new guy chest to chest and then I felt Dady climb on top of us and started to put his dick in me too. I had never been DP’d before but my ass just seemed to open up to accommodate and then to latch on to both dicks.

[think before following links] https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=68122ad006e49 💯!

I support Israel 100% and am very happy the US does. I love that we bombed the shit out of Iran's facilities. It was a beautiful flawlessly executed mission.

fuck ya bro, slammed while restrained in a sling by a chemBOSS is a fuckin craving I got every day..... gas masked, restrained, trimixed, milked from the inside and outside....

That phrase "clean" is what needs to change. The past is full of folks labelled as "unclean". From ancient lepors to modern gays. I get that many folks want to live long, healthy lives with low(er) risks. Not everyone does, like the chasers. But the "clean" types do want to avoid HIV or STDs. But that's not what these labels mean. These kinds of labels divide us. These kinds of words really mean, "I'm better than those unclean people. I made better choices." etc. Hogwash. Reality is we all get sick. The kid coughing next to me is probably going to get me sick. The meats or veggies that the farmer said were A OK will sometimes make me sick. We can either live like Monk and worry about every sneeze or enjoy life and have fun. Sane people get this, IMO, and reduce risks while staying humane.

I'm the same way. Thankfully I shoot fairly big loads. I also love to eat cum that I find. When I go to the ABS I always search the floor for loads and I look in the trash cans for used condoms. Cum is FAR too precious to let it go to waste.

We can only imagine... Maybe he's transformed:

I'm neg but some nasty stud may want to change that one day. I do play with poz studs as the risk turns me on. X

Looking forward to more. My load when I read this.

This is my first story. Let me know what you think! 1. Rick had been standing in the crowded airport hall for the last 20 minutes and was getting pretty bored when he finally saw him. "Tony!" he called. "Hi, Uncle Rick!" "Come give your uncle a hug!" Rick said happily as his nephew gave him a warm hug. "So... how was the flight?" "It was fine. Although the food wasn't exactly great," Tony replied as he and Rick made their way home. Although of necessity Rick was focused on the road, he did his best to casually check-out his nephew who had turned 18 that Spring. Rick concluded Tony was growing into a fine looking young man. And Rick wasn't wrong. Tony was about 6' 1" feet tall, his youthful face with big brown eyes and becoming brown hair was really quite handsome. As for his build, Rick concluded Tony was neither muscular, nor skinny, but somewhere nicely in between. Unbeknownst to Rick, Tony was observing his Uncle with similar attention. Rick was 41 years old, about 6' 2" feet tall, had short brown hair and wore a stubble on his face. Unlike Tony, Rick was very muscular, and his deltoids, which were decorated by several tattos, were almost three times the size of Tony's. Rick's legs were bulging out in his jeans and his pecs were ready to rip his tight shirt apart. Tony couldn't help but conclude his Uncle was one hot hunk! Finally, they arrived at Rick's house. Tony got out of the car and took all of his stuff out of the trunk. Rick took some of it and together they stepped inside. "Hey Tony!" Tony heard a voice. "Hi Dan!" Tony and Rick simultaneously said as, wearing only a tank top and black briefs, Dan came out of the living room to help with the bags, giving Tony a close look at Rick's 38 year old boyfriend. Again Tony couldn't help but conclude Dan was exceptionally handsome and stunningly well built: he was abut six feet tall, his carmel-colored arms were fully inked, and his face was as handsome as Rick's. The rest of the night was kind of a blur for Tony. They had dinner and his uncle even offered him a drink, but Tony was too tired. That night, he slept like a log. 2. Rick had just come back, sweaty from his morning run. Entering the house, he stripped-off his shirt and was ready to go to the bathroom when Dan stopped him explaining "Wait! Your nephew is in there." "Oh, okay. I'll wait then," replied Rick. "Well, while you're waiting, check out what I've found in his room!" Dan grinned and waved around with a DVD. "You went through his stuff? What the fuck?" Just then Rick understood what Dan was bringing to his attention. Dan was holding a porn DVD. A gay porn DVD! Tony was gay? Rick couldn't wrap his head around the idea. Everyone from his family was automatically straight in his mind, because he had always been the only gay person within the family. Just then the shower faucet cut out. Tony was about to step out of the bathroom. "Quick! Put it back!" For the rest of the morning, Rick often found himself looking at his nephew, trying to wrap his head around the idea Tony was gay. After the three had lunch Rick and Dan were heading to the gym, so Dan asked "You wanna come with us?" "Yeah, sure. I was going to start looking for a gym anyway," Tony replied. Once at the gym Rick asked the girl on the reception desk to give Tony a complementary month-free-trial-card, and once the paperwork was done the three men moved into the locker room, changed into their work-out clothing. Now it was Dan's turn to notice Tony looked particularly good in his tank top and shorts. Dan also noticed Tony's shorts nicely showed-off his bulge, but that didn't interfere with the vigorous two-hour workout which the three men commenced. Rick did notice, however, that several times during the long workout Dan seemed to checking-out Tony, and his assistance to Tony was perhaps a bit more touchy than might have been strictly necessary. "Phew," gasped Tony, who was quite winded, asking of Dan "You work out hard! How often do you come here?" "Well, we usually work out five times a week, every day except Fridays and Sundays, but it's not always a two-hour workout." "Wow, I'll get really buff in no time if I'm gonna be working out with you," laughed Tony. "I hope so," Dan thought to himself as he and Tony moved towards the showers just as a group of men, including Rick, exited the showers. "It's all cleared out in there now," commented Rick as he passed Tony and Dan as the later two entered the showers.

After the old man came in me, I felt something give way in my mind. I don't know if it was the smell of poppers permeating the dark, sweaty atmosphere or whether it was the filthy loads I had already taken inside me, but I felt my body shiver with lust and a need to breed like I was in heat. The man stroking my head felt the change as I squirmed and slobbered over his cock. He raised my head and saw my swollen face and bright eyes and grinned at me, revealing sores clustering over his lips. "That's a good boy!" He breathed. "You're nearly there. Accept it." He raised me up and grabbed my arm. "C'mon." He said. As he pulled me towards the aisle, I tripped over my trousers and pants, leaving them on the filthy floor so I was naked from the waist down. He dragged me down the aisle to the toilets which were off to one side. I was aware of men following us, mere shadows in the darkness like demons from hell. There was no light inside, and the small area reeked of piss. He groped to one side, and dragged me into a cubicle and sat down on the pan. Then he pulled my head down onto his cock . "Suck it, bitch!" He whispered. I began to slobber over his erection, literally shaking now with lust and depravity. I felt bodies cramming in into the space behind me, fingers dipping into my cum soaked hole and excited whispers and the sound of zips being drawn down. Then the first cock began to slide into me and a fat belly was lifted onto my bare bottom. The man began to thrust like a rabbit, working himself quickly to a climax as the others urged him on. "Hurry up! Don't take all night. We all want a turn!" He grunted, his cock throbbed in me as he spurted, and then it was literally ripped out of me as eager hands pulled him to one side and another cock was thrust into me. I was lost. I felt my legs open wide, stretching my hole as wide as I could and pushing back in heat to milk their diseased cocks. I was in heaven or in hell. I didn't care. All I felt was the hands stroking my face, his voice saying "Good. Well done. Take them all." and troll after troll emptying his balls into me.

Chris leaked when Manetti squeezed his dick. His still hard purple head was covered in spooge and Manetti wanted to torture the kid for a bit, polishing his nob, just cuz he could. The palm of his hand went back and forth as Chris squirmed in pleasure and pain under his control. “Stop! Nooo,” he laughed howling and thrashing. The wall phone in the kitchen immediately began to ring and light flood into their darkened room from across the airshaft. The light brought Manetti more in focus to Chris, breaking their intimacy slightly. As his mind settled back from his raging high, what they had just done started to frighten him a little. Manetti’s slimy cock slid out of Chris' ass like a fat slug. There was an audible 'plop' like a cork as it popped out of the grip of his sphincter, and he felt a small amount of liquid dribbled out his crack, down his tail bone and slide under his back. Manetti went into the kitchen and picked up the receiver and silently listened. "Thanks," he finally said. "Yes, he definitely has a hot pussy, Master," said Manetti into the receiver. The long phone cord allowed him to come back into the room talking. "We were that loud, huh?" He gave Chris an 'oops' look. "Well, I'm glad it enticed you, Sir." Manetti paused, then was quiet for quite a while, considering the proposal from the person on the other end of the line. He grew serious looking at Chris while the voice on the other end continued speaking. There was a pause on the other end, seeming to wait for Manetti to reply. Then the voice added a few words, which brought a smile to Manetti’s lips. "Well, we were probably going to bed, but I think our boy could be convinced otherwise. What do you say, Chief?" Manetti asked the bound boy covering the mouthpiece. "Up for a drop-by to my Master’s? Could be worth your while," he said rubbing his fingers together and wiggling his dark brows. "Even might be the beginning of a long term plan. A little for you, a cut for me, and the rest for Master. Maybe the plan you were looking for, Chief." Manetti’s teeth glowed in the light from across the airshaft. Chris gave him an I-don’t-know look in return. Frankly, he'd do what Manetti wanted him to do as long as Manetti was there. Back to the phone, he said, "Sure, the kid's psyched to meet you. We’ll come over right away." He paused. "Yes, Sir, I know what you like. I'll get him prepped just like that. Right, give us a little time then." Another pause, then a finger went up Chris’ hole. “Yep, he’s still wet but his hole is tightening.” Manetti sucked his finger smiling at Chris. “Sure, I have some G. Will do.” He went back into the kitchen and hung up. "Boy, to get through this night, I think we need to up your game." Manetti came back into the room and stopped by the bookcase and picked up the box with the orange tipped needles. He came over to Chris, who suddenly became alarmed, shook his head emphatically side to side. Manetti saw the kid stressing and put his hand on his face to reassure him. “Nah, Chief, nothing like that,” he said lifting out a little vial of liquid, putting a reassuring hand on Chris’ beating heart. “Only a couple of drops of G right now to prep you.” He took an eyedropper and counted out some drops in his water glass, swirled it around, and put the class up to Chris’ mouth. “What is it?” “Something that’ll take the edge of the booty bump I gave you. Makes you relax. Kind of like a warm bathtub. Nasty tasting though,” he broke into an evil grin. “But you like nasty, right?” Chris took a sip and made a face. “Yeah, I know. Here, I’ll take some too so we’ll be on the same planet, okay?” Manetti drank and made the same face as Chris. He got Chris to drink a little more. “Drink me, Alice,” Manetti said in a tiny voice. “You’ll need it to get through the door.” Chris gave him a blank look. “Never mind. Here, take this too. It’s a muscle relaxer. I think you’ll need it.” He put a white pill on Chris' tongue, and let him wash it down with a last sip from the glass. “Why do I need a muscle relaxer? Is he going to fuck me, Mike?” “Most definitely, he’s going to fuck you, buddy, and he’s a lot bigger than me, and I ain’t no small zucchini, am I?” “Oh shit.” Chris' head fell backward. “Yeah, but on the bright side look how hard you are. I gotta warn you though, if you come with me, Master Drax does believes in everyone slamming and doesn’t take no for an answer. So rule number one: never say no. He has lots of ways to make you say yes and they aren't any fun, believe me. Second rule: don't say 'I can't.' To him that translates to 'I won't.'" Chris looked trouble. Manetti went on, "Your Catholic so you'll get this: Saying no means he can always change your mind, so to him that's a venial sin. But refusing him outright, saying you won't? That's a mortal sin. And you don't want to do that. Ever. Got it?” “I think I wanna stay here, if that’s alright.” “You're scared of needles cuz of your ma, huh?” asked Manetti, with a note of compassion. “Your brother told me she was tasting even before Carl came sniffing around. He said last time he checked in with you guys, she was living with Carl, but she was married to her H.” “Can you untie me?” Chris asked. Manetti removed his cuffs and Chris slid out of the sling and sat on the futon crossed legged. He started looking around the room then looked at his boner. “Man, is this ever going down?” He tried to make a joke of it, but Manetti saw the G was making only a mild dent in his mood. He was playing again with himself, pinching his nipples, which seemed to be something new to him, was a tactic, thought Manetti, to try and take his mind off his family and this, Manetti saw, wasn't working. The Prior Puss was taking over the evening. Manetti knew he had to distract the kid for a while for the G to take full effect. “Hey, how’d you like me to shave you?" Chris perked up and looked at him curiously. "I shave Ben all the time and he loves it. It’ll really calm you down. It goes well with G too. Wanna try?" His caterpillar eyebrows wiggled. "I love shaving your brother.” “What do I do?” “Nothing but lie there. Just look pretty." Manetti went toward the bathroom. "Like you could ever not look pretty.” The words did their job and Chris laid down smiling. Manetti went in and made preparations. Chris lay there blushing and grinning to himself. He could see why Ben liked this guy. “But I like my bush,” he called out to Manetti in mock protest. He felt his small bush. Not much of one he had to admit. “You clip it, baby. Think it makes you look bigger, right? Ya’know you got nothing to be ashamed of.” He came back in with a bowl of water, shaving cream, and a straight razor. "I know you'll enjoy this." He sat next to Chris, and set out his wares. "Listen: Master Drax has special tastes. We're start with the simplest. He likes his new boys shaved. Everywhere." Manetti wrang out a wash cloth over the pan and soak the little bit of blond pubes Chris had. "You like keeping it short. But maybe you don't want them at all. Prefer to stay a boy." He sprayed foam in his hand and covered Chris' pubes. For pleasure or torture, he also coated his shaft and balls, massaging it in until Chris was squirming again in his hand. A few well-placed strokes of the razor and Chris' pubes were gone. He spent special time kneading his balls, flattening them out, squeezing them hard. Part pain and eventually part pleasure for Chris. "Lay your arms back." His pits were easy to shave. While on the second pit, Manetti said, "Man, how long since you showered, boy?" "A month, I guess." Chris was starting to float in his body. He succumbed the water and the warmth of the rag. With Manetti taking care of him, they were bonding closer. It was a feeling he didn't want to stop. "A month?" he asked incredulously. "Last gym class I took, I guess. After that I stopped going to school." "Well, no wonder you smell like a hobo." He gave a small laugh as he scraped the last of Chris' arm pit hair. "Master's probably gonna like your smell. Once I finish your butt, I should probably douse you with a finishing touch." Chris opened his eyes to see Manetti pretending to take a wiz on him. Chris mouthed silently, fuck, yeah, agreeing to whatever came into Manetti's dirty mind. "Up, Chief. Back in the sling." Chris got up slowly, then slunk back in the sling and put his legs in the stirrups. Manetti moved down below Chris' butt hole, pulled up a stool and started soaping his crack. To Chris, the feeling was sensuous; to Manetti it was salacious. He played with the boy's hole for a while, prying it apart with two fingers up and down, and then side to side. He spat in it and pulled some of his own cum out to use as lube. He stuck a finger deep inside, rubbing his prostate and generally feeling out the kid's hole. Chris head lolled to the side enjoying the sensations, looking up to the mirror occasionally catching Manetti brown head studying his anal anatomy. Soon, with a few deft strokes, his cheeks were soft and smooth. His purple hand prints were fading to pink. "Okay, hardest part. You're nicely stretched but I want you to remain totally relaxed." He took the straight razor and made micro-scrapes against the boy sphincter. Each stroke made the boy clench. He stopped for a moment, stood up, and smacked his ass hard. "I'm serious now, boy. Stop flinching or I'm going to slice you. I'm a lot more careful than Master would be, so you want me doing this, not him." Chris bit his lip. He liked when Manetti ordered him around, but he was apprehensive if he could keep his hole perfectly relaxed. "I'll try." "Rule three: there is no try, only do. Think Yoda. Seriously, I'm going to put this inside you," he said holding up the straight razor. "I'll be twisting it a full three-sixty. If Master finds even one hair in there I can guarantee you your ass is going to be a bloody mess when he's done. Trust me, I know. Picture my hole for a minute. Yours is a piece of cake." Chris felt the warm washcloth wipe the remainder of soap away. He then felt Manetti's tongue circle his hole, licking the edges then spiraling deep inside. It felt fantastic. His hole relaxed even more the deeper Manetti's tongue went. Then he felt the cool razor slide ever so gently and slowly into his hole. He concentrated on how relaxed he was under Manetti's spell, how much he liked him, put all his trust in him. Thought only of that. He felt the razor slowly twisted around his open hole. Six, then seven nicks of stray hairs he felt intensely as if they were being ripped out of him. Still he remained open. "Good boy. I'm coming out." The blade fell out slowly. It almost tickled. At the last moment of contact, however, he couldn't hold back a last minute flinch. The blade pricked him only slightly, but enough to draw a small trickle of blood. It stung and his sphincter went into delayed spasms, pushing some residual cum out his hole. Manetti lapped at it without without scolding him. His tongue was soothing though Chris knew blood, saliva and Manetti's cum was mixing in his wound. But the lapping tongue was hypnotic. Minutes went by silently. His sphincter stopped clenching and he lightly dozed off feeling Manetti tongue going on for eternity. Not caring what happened next. Remembering only Manetti's tongue lulling him to sleep. He would fall asleep every night like this if he was Manetti's. *** But he wasn't Manetti's. First one hand was pulled up and buckled in place. Then the other. Still he was content and floating like a baby in a swing. "Good boy. Now for your reward." From far away he heard the words and responded like he was still asleep. "What?" His words felt unnaturally slow coming out of him. "Wait." He realized his arms were again bound. "Wait. What...?" Through droopy eyes he saw Manetti take out a prepared point. "Just a small one, Chief. It'll put you in the right frame of mind to meet Master. He's expecting it." Manetti tied a rubber tourniquet around Chris' small bicep and began tapping the crook of his arm. It was pretty easy to find a vein on the skinny boy. He found a juicy one and told the kid to hold still or he might hurt him. Chris stopped squirming and watched with fascinated horror as the needle found it target. "Stick. Tell me if this burns." A swirl of red flooded into the vile and slowly Manetti unloaded the liquid into Chris' vein. The boy felt nothing immediately as Manetti withdrew the needle and pressed his thumb on the point of entry. His other hand unleashed the tourniquet, just as the boy coughed. Chris panicked. Manetti stood above him, his face easing into that large shark smile he'd had before. "That's it, my red blooded American boy." He watched the kid flush beet red, going through alternating phases. Panic turned to ecstasy, turned back to panic. "Just ride it. That's it. Enjoy it." "Too intense." Manetti leaned over Chris' face. He knew what would help the kid. He pushed his pec out to hover over his face, unleashing one of the boy's arms. Chris put his hand on Manetti's chest, felt the muscle flexing just for him. He caressed the hair, found the pierced nipple. Manetti bent even lower to the boy. Chris started sucking away, nursing like an infant, both metal and flesh. Chris looked up at Manetti and met the shark smile with one of his own. A smile shaded with a bit of evil he'd never let out before. He struggled to get up forgetting his other hand was still bound. Manetti helped him get it off. Chris buried his face in the man's chest, inhaling him, licking him. Put his face under Manetti’s armpit. Manetti took pleasure in letting him lick the pit, then helped him get up. Chris slid off the sling and began pacing around the bedroom murmuring fuck repeatedly. "How's that feel? You like?" Chris couldn't form any words but held up his thumb. "Go ahead and lay down. Enjoy the rush. Just ride it through." As he sat he fell back, feeling like he was falling down a rabbit hole, that the ceiling was rising above him, his vision was crossed and he felt the rush of euphoria jet through him. He was giddy, flush with excitement, he only wished Manetti's cock was back inside him. "Fuck," he grabbed onto the only words that made sense, confessing, "I feel like a little boy with you. I want you to molest me." He felt around his smooth, wet hole and stuck a couple of fingers inside. Manetti laugh. "You feel it don't you. Feel all those carnal urges you've buried. You want to suck a dog dick, don't you?" "Yeah. Big horse dick. Your dick. I want to be buried in cum. I want you to fist me like those guys are doing." He flicked his head at the TV where a black guy was punch fisting a young guy in a sling. "I want you to fist me like you and Ben fist. I want you to use dildoes on me and make me have a huge cunt like yours. I want you to fist me to your elbow and your armpit. I want to feel your hairy pit rub against my hole." "Looks like you like-y? And that's just a teeny bit. More to come at Master Drax." Manetti put the orange cap back on the syringe, and pointed the camera back on the boy as he rolled around feeling all his erogenous zones, spewing a watershed of perversions. Manetti left him to his pleasure, feeling his hole, pulling on his flaccid dick, tweeking his nipples, going at them all with abandon. He went over to the closet and pulled out chaps and put them on, then pulled out a chastity cage out of a drawer and put it in his pocket. He went into the kitchen where he took the metal lid off the bathtub. Fuck, he heard Chris repeating, unable to contain himself. He heard a never-ending stream of fucks and perverted ideas spewing out of the kid's mouth, that he wanted Jeff to fuck him, for Carl to fuck him. He wanted to have someone at work named Shakir cover him in Valvoline oil and fuck him. He wanted to get fucked in the gas station toilet. He wanted the gas station owner named Duke to fuck him from behind while he licked the urinal. “You think I stink, man? You should smell that toilet some time. It's righteous foul!” The kid had an imagination! He enjoyed how spun the kid was on such a little amount, how open he was to anything right now. As a test Manetti came back in the room and picked up a filthy jock strap, held it out for the boy to smell. "What do you think of this? It's your brothers." The boy sniffed it and then began to tear into it. He sucked it and his saliva made the jock wet and unlocked the odor of piss emanating from the stains. "You want to wear it over your face to meet Master? I know he'd love that. He's a nasty mother fucker like no one you've ever met." Chris was almost unrecognizable animal in his drug frenzy, nothing at all like he was when he first came in the door. He was so into it with the jock, it looked like he hardly heard what Manetti was saying. "Ya'know, you’re lucky I took your cherry. Master Drax wouldn't have been so gentle." "I don’t think," he managed to get out while chewing the jock strap, "that you were that gentle." He was high on piss fumes, high on the residual cum, reeling in lust sucking his brother's jock. He looked at Manetti like an idea had just struck him. "I liked it rough.” "I'll relay that thought, boy. C'mon, get up. You’re ready to meet Master. He's got a wide variety in his stable. The rougher, the more money he'll make off you. The less limits, the more we’ll all make. Think you'll like that?" Chris bobbed his head, agreeing to anything Manetti said to him. He sprung up and put the wet jock around his neck. Manetti steered him into the kitchen, told him to get in the tub. "You need a douse before we go." "Douse of what?" Chris asked, stepping in. "Master likes raunch, heavy raunch. Let's get you prepped and stinkin'. Open your mouth, pig. You know you want it." He hadn't thought about it but was susceptible to any suggestion coming from his idol. He laid down in the tub and opened his mouth. Manetti immediately covered him in piss, going up and down the kid's naked body. Chris ran his hands up over his torso like he was washing himself. He let out a low moan of pleasure. "Warm," he sighed. "Open." Chris stopped rubbing and opened his mouth, propping himself up on his elbows. Manetti took aim and hit his mark right on target. "Swallow." The boy obeyed. It was salty and bitter and came out of Manetti, so he guzzled the piss letting it splash in his mouth, and gulped it down into his stomach. "Good pig. You like that, pig boy?" Chris bobbed his head. Without prompting he leaned back and spread his legs to expose his hole to Manetti. "Okay, you fucking filth pig." With that, Manetti let a stream of piss hit his hole. Some went in and the kid pushed it out like a mini-geyser. "You stinkin’ fuck pig! Get up—you’re ready.” Chris scrambled getting up. They both stopped for a second regarding each other, listening to the remains of piss draining down the pipe. Two massive shark grins flashed between them. Manetti helped him step out of the tub; Chris' platinum hair yellow and flattened, his eyes electric.

The pig will out -part 3 Shortly after this, I got a job in London, which meant I didn't have much time for play, but I was hooked: I needed to be bred, almost as if my body was in heat and was desperate to be impregnated. I met a guy in a bar and he told me about a gay cinema not far from where I was working. He said it in a disparaging way - "full of old trolls, got to be desperate to go there as I bet you'd catch something" - without realising that was like a honeypot to a fly, and I found myself obsessing on the prospects of checking the place out, so I bunked off work, telling them I had the 'flu (!) and headed over there. It was a small, nondescript door in a row of shops and at first I thought he had been kidding me, but the door opened when I buzzed, and I found myself in a small reception area with a bored looking guy at a desk with hard core gay porn playing on some monitors behind him. I gave him the entrance money and he indicated a bank of lockers on one wall. "you're welcome to leave your stuff." He leered at me and looked me up and down. "I think you're gonna have a good time. The dirty fuckers down there like fresh meat." I felt my cock swell when he said that and my chest tightened with excitement. He indicated some stairs leading down to a basement. Taking a deep breath, I descended into depravity. At the bottom, it was gloomy and smelled of piss, sweat and spunk like it hadn't been cleaned in years. There was a short corridor with a cinema on the left with about 20 seats, filled with rough looking guys, mostly middle aged, watching a trannie on the screen getting fucked bareback. On the other side was a similar sized room with a screen showing twinks sucking each other in a field, but at the back of the room, behind the last row of seats was a low wall above which I could see the heads of three guys obviously standing to watch the movie. Intrigued, I went up the shallow steps to the back and round the wall, where my heart skipped a beat. The three of them were standing against the wall, trousers and underwear around their ankles, presenting their pale, bare backsides to the narrow space behind them in which was a door way to the corridor. They were all middle aged or older, silver hair glinting in the light from the screen. They looked eagerly at me and I could see lube glistening between the flaccid buttocks of the guy nearest me. At that moment, the door opened and a small, middle-eastern guy with a pock-marked face squeezed into the space behind the row of waiting holes. He opened his jeans and levered out a long, thick cock which hardened in his boney fingers. He grinned at me and chose his victim, a short, tubby guy who looked like a nice old grandad, and began to fuck him. The old guy barely moved or reacted, other than to grunt a little as the cock in his arse began to thrust harder, his eyes still fixed on the screen. The middle-eastern guy suddenly gave a snort of pleasure and thrust tightly into the old man as he emptied his spunk into him. After a few moments, he withdrew his glistening cock, slipped it back into his jeans and was gone. My eyes had adjusted to the gloom, and I gasped as I saw little puddles of spunk on the floor beneath each man's naked buttocks. My body shook with the realisation that they were there to be impregnated by any cock that needed them, like bitches in heat. By now, the little cinema room had filled with guys who had obviously noticed the newbie in their midst and and I knew what I was going to do.....

The pig will out - part 2 When I got home, I panicked about what I'd done and the fact that I had unprotected sex with strangers I couldn't even see. I swore to keep away from that place and for a couple of weeks I was a good boy. I was very stressed in case I came down with the fuck 'flu, but after a couple of weeks it kinda receded into the background, and I found myself really horny and felt the need for sex really bad. One night, almost without thinking, I found myself in the car next to the playing field, almost as if my body needed to breed and was taking over my rational mind, even as my rational mind was saying 'Oh, you've done it once and everything is okay. You can do it again and get away with it.' I got out of the car and went over to the old public toilet. It seemed pretty quiet, but when I stepped inside it was full of bodies, and the darkness was full of the smells of sweat, piss and spunk. Immediately, hands reached for my body, grabbing the bulge in my jeans and pulling at my belt. Dry, urgent whispered voices, surrounded me as guys pulled off my tee shirt and dragged my trousers and underwear down. "Fuck, yeah, nice body," someone breathed. "Gonna get fucked tonight, boy?" whispered another, as a wet mouth engulfed my cock. I stepped out of my clothing and stood naked in the darkness, which seemed to excite the crowd of men around me, who jostled each other to suck my cock, explore my arse, and plunge their tongues into my mouth. Poppers were thrust under my nose, and in the chemical rush, two thoughts crossed my mind, first, that the guys were barely men, they were more like demons in the darkness, wanting to spread their seed and damning anyone who came into their clutches, and second, how incredibly excited I was at the extent of my depravity. "Get 'im bent over!" someone said with an evil chuckle, "Fuck the bitch." I was pulled firmly into the rear of the toilet and shoved into a cubicle. I couldn't see virtually anything, but apparently a man was already sitting on the pan and I positioned so his fat, stiffening cock was against my mouth. I felt his fingers separate my lips, and his cock slid into my mouth. Eager fingers were spreading my arse and I felt the familiar cold, slippery lube being applied. The man seated on the pan bent low and stuck a bottle of poppers under my nose, hissing "Well now, what have we here? Dirty little bitch," adding a laugh that sounded like dry leaves on a pavement. I felt hands holding me open and then the first cock began to force itself into me, the head widening my hole, and then slipping into me with a rush. I groaned as I was fucked, holding onto the thighs of the man sitting before me, while I greedily sucked on his cock. Then I heard the man in my arse grunting, and felt his cock throb as he came. He withdrew his cock roughly, and someone else's rough finger was thrust into me, who briefly explored my hole, and then excitedly asked "Oh yeah, he's wet. Who's next?" A thick, slimey cock slid up me, and a huge belly rested on my back as a fat troll got in the saddle and began to fuck my arse. After two or three minutes, his thrusts became more urgent, and then he pushed hard against me and groaned loudly as he shot his spunk into my dripping hole. Suddenly, a lighter flared as the man seated on the toilet lit a cigarette, even as I kept sucking his cock. I managed to catch a glimpse of his thin, wasted face, his sunken cheeks and the sores around the mouth. The man's eyes, however, were his most striking feature. They seemed to suggest they were as old as time and utterly pitiless in the intensity with which he bored into my soul. "Welcome to the brotherhood," he grinned, as his cock began to spurt in my mouth, adding "Dirty seed for a dirty boy!" I knew then I was lost forever....

Derek Anthony of T.I.M. fame. Jesse O'Toole. Kevin Slater. Pete Venturi. Roman Karloff. Olivier De Renac. Tony Akin. And the best for last: Igor from Machofucker