Leaderboard

I was in a neighboring city and needed to cum before driving home. Messaged several bottoms but nobody was ready. I clicked on one popular cumdump motels in Snifffies because there were several guys there and it was lit up as active. There was a public message that said "blindfolded anon bb bottom. door open as long as this message is posted".. The room number was there too. The profile posted had no pics and was off-line for over an hour. I was so horny and it wasn't too far so I went, figuring I could just leave if I wasn't into the guy. I go to the room and the bottom is getting fucked and two tops are waiting. Older guys is naked fucking and the other two are waiting with their dicks out, clothes on. Neither wanted to be touched. Older guy finishes and one of the tops moves in. I get a better look at the bottom, he's close to my age, fit and has a nice hairy ass. He's blindfolded, as advertised. The top that moves in had a big dick, probably about 8" and thick. He pushes straight in, one thrust, no lube in a way that probably wouldn't have felt good even if opened up and a bit cummy. This cause the bottom to yelp a bit and he speak, basically telling the top that his dick is dry and he needs lube, spit or cum on it. When this happens I immediately recognized the voice and take a closer look. Bottom is a close friend who I never knew had a slutty side. This makes my dick rock hard. The big dick top fucks him for a while before he finally releases and it's a big fucking load. I can see the grundle throbbing and when he pulls out I can see the cum leaking out a bit. The other guy moves in, average an unremarkable guy. He cums really fast - big dick top had barely gotten out of the room. He ask asks my friend how many loads and he says he lost count at 18. My turn, I'm so hard because I love a loaded hole and this is my friend who is pretty cute and there's no way I would have get to fuck him in the dynamics of our friendship. I'm also nervous. I can't speak and what if he lifts the blindfold.... I slide my cock in and he's pretty tight considering the day he's had. Once I'm in, his hole is just so slick and oozing cum. It's take my time because I want to savor fucking him and I build up a nice rhythm. Feel great for me and he's moaning in a good way. I felt like I was going to nut the whole time and was really trying to hold it back but after about 5 minutes I reached the point that I couldn't hold it back without stopping and even though I wanted to go longer it just felt to good to stop. I shot a really nice load in him, felt bigger and longer than normal. My balls were dripping cum and my bush was soaked. I zipped up and left covered in cum. As I was leaving the motel, another top was heading that way he was really unattractive and hit was kind of hot knowing that my friend was going to take this guys load. I ended up sitting in the car for about 45 minutes where I could see the room door. I decided to go back up and get another load out of me. Ugly guy was still fucking him but he stopped and gave me his ass. I was able to fuck longer this time and gave him another load.

Part 2 ======== It has been about two weeks. my girlfriend returned shortly after my last rendezvous with scorpion boy and immediately noticed the hickey, despite my feeble attempts to disguise it, dumped me and moved out. Since then I'd been fucked a few times, all bare, exploring my new freedom and an intense bout of lust I could not explain. Once again I found myself home alone, horny, and surfing apps for a playmate. That's when I saw his message. "Still looking, huh? I know you're missing my cock. No one around here is going to compare. Let me know when you're ready to admit what you need" with a little scorpion emoji. I was immediately hard and ashamed to admit he was right. I'd been daydreaming of that fuck but he'd been offline and hadn't replied to my last short but needy message of "hey are you around?". I found myself dry humping my sheets and I realized there was not point resisting this. Messaged him back, trying to be cool "I'm free. Want to come by?". Long delay. Finally he replies "Do as you're told." I sighed in frustration, but felt my cock twitch. I liked being put in my place and it seemed he remembered this. I wrote back "I need your cock, please." He went offline. Fuck. I was doing some dishes, still half hard, when i heard a knock at the door. To my surprise it was him. He came in and greeted me with a kiss and a smack on my butt. "I knew I'd be back here. Your little peach is so needy." I blushed. He asked how I'd been feeling and what I'd been up to, more small chat than last time I thought. I admitted I'd been a little tired but also incredibly horny. He grinned and said "I bet you have. Let's do something about that, shall we?" I was already hard and wet when he started undressing me, playing with my body, taking his time. He treated me differently too, putting obvious time and effort into my pleasure as much as his. Over the course of the late afternoon and evening he fucked three loads into me, making me beg for his cum each time - which I did lustfully and without hesitation. Fucking in different positions...hard, slow and deep. He left me dripping with cum. After the third round, still inside me and leaking cum, he leaned in close and whispered in my ear "that should do it my little slut, now to let nature take it's course." And as quickly as he'd arrived he was out the door. Leaving me aching, exhausted, and full of his cum. Wondering what he meant about nature taking it's course. I let it drift out of my mind as I fell asleep.

Chapter 1 – Free Ride Walt was waiting patiently for his younger brother to stop by. He knew the routine with Ray. Walt was pretty successful at his job but really made his money with his side hustle. He was a successful dealer of all sorts. A latino gay man in his late 20’s with an average frame. He stands at a height of 5’ 11”. At 19 years old, his younger brother Ray was naturally skinny in an athletic way. Standing 5’ 9”, he looked like a normal guy. No one would guess that Ray was successful at being a low life junkie that couch surfed where he could. Opposite ends of the using continuum from his brother. Walt was able to know his limits and when to call it a day. Ray used as much and as often as he could, always chasing that next high. This was the usual time of the month where Walt found that his brother would come by to make small talk and then ask for some pills or tina to help him out. Walt was just about sick of his brother using the “family card” to get free shit. This time he was going to have to earn his high. Walt was going to make his straight brother choose his self pride or chase the high to give up a hole or two. Walt hoped that his brother would have the dignity to say no to his proposition but he also knows that Tina has a big grip on his brother. Either way, Walt had saved up a weeks load in his balls incase his brother chose the drugs. Like clockwork, Ray showed up on the last Saturday of the month at 6pm on the dot. A ring of the doorbell let Walt know his guest was there. He opened the door and gave his younger brother a quick glance up and down. Ray walked in and gave his brother a hug. R: Hey bro, it’s good to see you again. I hope you don’t mind that I stopped by today. W: No problem man. I have the night free so I was just going to chill at home. Come sit down on the couch. Can I get you something to drink? R: Do you have a beer back there? W: No on the beer I’m afraid. I do have the next best thing though. Walt disappeared into the kitchen and emerged with 2 glasses of coke. W: Who needs beer when I have some G. Watch out though, this batch is killer strong. Ray took the drink and started to down it. The speed at which he drank let Walt know he was already feeling bad without anything in his system. R: Hey, do you think I could catch a quick shower. I’ve been walking around a lot today. W: Sure, go ahead. I’ll jump in myself after you. Ray got up off the couch and goes through his backpack. he picks out a pair of presumably clean underwear. He walked over to the bathroom. He grabbed a towel and closed the door. Walt took the time to set the scene for his brother. He took out a pipe and torch and placed them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He went over to one of his stash spots and pulled out some pills and a baggie of big shards. He left the pills on the table with his glass of coke and g. He knew his brother would see them right away. Walt packed his pipe and picked up the torch. He melted the shard and took a big hit. He took a few more hits leaving the pipe with one, maybe two good hits. He placed it down on the table. He blew out his cloud and hid the current baggie of Tina. He walked over to the bathroom. He opens the door just as his brother was coming out of the shower. They shared a room together when they lived at home so walking in on each other in various states of undress was normal for them. Ray put on a pair of boxers that he brought with him and walked out to the living room. Walt jumped in the shower. He kept thinking of his brothers round ass and started to chub up a bit. He changes the water to cold to calm himself own. W: All in good time. Chapter 2 – Getting despirate Ray walked out to the living room and sat down at the couch in his boxers. This was his brother’s pad so he felt comfortable enough. He had taken a quick shower so that the steam wouldn’t get him lightheaded when the G kicked in. He glances down at the coffee table and spots the random pills. He thought fuck-it! and threw the 2 mystery pills into his mouth. He picked up his brother’s glass with the spiked soda and downed that too. He picked up the pipe laid down before him and turned on the torch. He heated the bowl of the pipe until the white smoke started to accumulate. He took a huge rip and blew out a large cloud. R: There we go. Ray immediately torched the bowl again and took another big hit. He held onto it and then released. He looked at the empty bowl and though time for a refill. He laid back on the couch and waited for his brother. As he lay there sitting on the couch, the G was starting to kick in and relaxed his posture. He pulled out his phone and started watching some straight porn. He was so into the video that he didn’t hear his older brother reenter the room. Walt walked into the room in just a pair of his own boxers. And why not, it was his home after all. His brother was the one making himself at home without any fuss. Walt walked over and sat right next to his brother. Ray woke from his fixation and greeted his brother. They started laughing at the porn on the phone and making stupid comments about the overacting. Ray was really feeling like he was stuck in the couch. The G was strong after all. Walt noticed his brother in this state and reached down under the couch where he stashed his baggie of shards. W: looks like you overshot the mark with the G. Here, this should help balance you out. Walt packed the bowl, took his hit, and handed it to his brother. The brothers passed the pipe back and forth a bit until it was empty again. Walt knew his brother. He knew what level of high he was at and it was barely off the ground. Walt packed another bowl. Hitting it and passing to his broher, he said: W: Okay this is it man. That’s all I can smoke up. The rest I have to sell. Ray took his hit and started to worry. He took 2 more hits before passing it back to Walt. R: What if I paid for some more? W: How much cash do you have? R: No, I only have like 20. W: that ain’t going to get you much bro. Sorry but I have to put on my dealer hat on this. This is business. Even for family. Ray took the last hit off the pipe and held it in as long as he could. He released the cloud and stared at his brother defeated. R: What do you bargain with other guys? I’m pretty desperate. Come on bro, I’ll do anything. Walt felt the lightbulb go off in his head. Bingo Chapter 3 – I’ll Do Anything R: What would you have anyone else do to score some T? John Doe comes up to you and is in this predicament. What do you bargain with him? W: I don’t know that you are that desperate. I don’t know. Ray lowered his head in shame. R: I’ll suck on it. Walt saw his defeated brother and he licked his lips. W: What was that? R: I’ll suck you off if I can smoke more. I really need it. W: You want my cock? My cock for some more tina? Is that it? R: I guess. W: okay … I’ll bring the party if your gonna play. You’re gonna be my tina whore tonight? R: Yes. If I have to. Walt stands up and grabs the pipe and refills with a big shard. He lights it up and blows out a white cloud toward his brother. W: Well, first off, drop those boxers. I like my boys to be naked. And come over hear on your knees and show me you really mean it. Once I know you are serious, I’ll get you fucked up. Ray drops his underwear and walks over a few steps to his older brother’s front. He gets down on his knees and pulls the underwear off his brother. He gets an inch from the dick in front of him. R: I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know… W: I’ll bring the party if you bring the play. Now go on now, start things off. Ray opens up and takes the dickhead in mouth. Walt feels the warmth of a new recruit. He feels his dick starting to grow in his brother’s mouth. W: yeah, good boy. Yeah suck that growing dick. Walt’s dick started to get hard but stayed at half full. He hands the pipe down to his brother. W: Here you go, smoke up a bit. I want you to take two hits. On the third, get back to sucking me off. I wanna see clouds around my dick. The sound of the torch starting up fills the room. One hit, two hits, and number three. The mouth returns to Walt’s semi hard dick. Walk looks down as the smoke flows from the boy’s mouth around his dick. This is just what he needed to get to fully hard. The younger brother pulls away and torch hits the pipe again. Four more huge hits with more and more dick in his throat. Walt is now thrusting straight into Ray’s throat. Now, Walt had heard through the grapevine that his brother has sucked a dick for tina before but he was surprised he was able to deepthroat his thick 8 inches. He was fucking the throat and watching the smoke come out of the boy’s nose and corners of his mouth. Only the occasional cough and gag betrayed how new Ray was to sucking big dick. Walt picks the boy up and throws him toward the couch. Chapter 4 – Head Down Ass Up W: Get on your knees with your ass towards me. Ray obeyed and got on his knees. R: oh, hey. I don’t know about this. This might be a little too much. Walt just reloaded the pipe and handed it over to Ray. Not one to deny a loaded pipe, Ray withdrew his protests and bent over the couch and started to hit the pipe. He drew in a large hit and was about to release when he felt something wet press against his asshole. He moaned as the smoke escaped his mouth. Walt used his tongue to attack Ray’s twitching hole. He ate out that boy’s hole like it was his last meal. Walt pulled back a moment and looked at the glistening hole before him. He pushed two fingers into the straight boy hole as he took in another hit. Moans filled the air as Ray was finger fucked by two fingers. More spit and three fingers were now in the boy hole, stretching it open. The next big hit from the pipe allowed Walt to push in four fingers. The hole barely let them in but four fingers were in. This made the boy try to reach behind himself to pull the fingers out. Walt reached under the boy an found Ray’s dick hard as can be. W: I see that you found my pills. Thought you might. Fucking whore. Walt pulled his fingers out and pushed up against the boy’s ass. His cock rubbing against the line between the cheeks. Precum wet the ass crack as he thrusted against the boy. Ray began to panic when he felt his brother’s head at the entrance to his hole. His mind was screaming no but his quivering asshole was begging for something more than fingers. Ray wasn’t that stupid. He knew that to get fucked when high was an experience. A lot of guys love it. He just never thought it was something he would do. As if he knew what Ray was thinking, he thrust in and the tip pushed inside Ray. R: OMG, fuck that’s thick. W: that’s only my head. It’s not even at the thick part yet. Walt pulls out and reached under the couch again. This time he pulls out a bottle of laced lube. He quickly fingers some into his brother before he has time to change his mind. Walt places his dickhead at the entrance right as Ray starts complaining about the burning inside of him from the lube. Walt thrusts in and gets the head back in. He thrusts again and gets halfway inside of Ray. R: fuuuuuuuuuck W. I know. I know. It’s almost in there. A third thrust pushes him all the way in. Ray can feel his brothers balls against his ass crack. R: fuuuuuuuuck W: I’m gonna leave it there a moment so you can get used to it inside of you. Walt reaches around to his brother’s chest. He touches his nipples and squeezes them slightly. This sends jolts throughout Ray’s body causing him to push back against the dick. He didn’t think he could get more dick inside of him but it felt like an extra inch was pushed inside of him. Walt continued to play with Ray’s nipples and the boy began to pull away and push back into his brother’s dick. W: Yeah, that’s right. Fuck yourself on my dick. Milk my seed right out of me. Ray continued to fuck himself on his big brother’s dick. It did not take long for the huge load to be worked up and finally shot up into his younger brother. W: yeaaahhhhh. Walt pulled out of the whore he just filled with his sperm. Ray was still head down ass up on the couch. Walt walked away and came back with his phone. Ray couldn’t see it but he heard the camera sound coming from behind him. Walt was taking pictures of him bent over, showing off his cum filled ass. R: Hey, what the fuck are you doing? W: Just needed a picture to get my friend over here. R: Okay let me get dressed and I’ll head out. W: oh no, you’re not leaving. Get some rest. I’m treating you like any other whore that gets seeded for drugs. The homies want a taste too. R: I don’t know about this. I’m pretty high now. this was fun and all that but I don’t know about someone else seeing me like this. W: you fucking junkie whore. You never have enough. You’ll stay and you’ll like it. I told you I was going to bring the party. Don’t worry you have some time to rest. Walt walks back to the kitchen and come back with another glass of coke and G. W: here, this will calm you down some and help you rest for a bit. Ray takes the drink and gulps it down. This time the taste was more bitter than last time. W: Come follow me. He gets up and follows Walt into the bedroom. Once inside, Ray was guided to the edge of the bed with his untouched dick standing straight up against just under his belly button. Walt turns on the tv and connects it to his laptop. He starts playing porn and Ray starts jerking off without even thinking. Just a natural response to being so tweaked out. While Ray is busy with a video of two men double teaming a twink, and jerking off, Walt gets on his phone and sends out a few texts. He gets someone to answer back immediately. His friend loved the pic of the used hole. Walt tells him to head over. After a short while, the G starts to kick in and Ray sinks back into the bed. He lays back and blacks out.

I walked along the balcony of the second floor of the motel. It was a nice place...older, but not seedy. There were about 50 rooms, and it had a pool. I knocked on the door of room 37, and Kyle opened it to let me in. He had a big smile on his face, showing off those dimples that made me melt. We had met almost 2 years ago in an online chat room for older men seeking younger men. At the time he was 48 and I was 25, and we were both excited by the age gap, nevermind that we also hit it off really well. We had similar kinks and fetishes, and the sex was amazing. He also loved our size difference, since he was 6'4" and I was 5'7" and all of 130 pounds. He said he loved "wearing" me on his cock, and loved to talk dirty while we fucked. I even let him arrange a few 3ways because he said he loved watching other guys fuck me. I had wanted to try 3ways, but never had any until after I met Kyle. And since I was on prep, I didn't worry too much that the other top was a stranger. I asked him once if he ever asked the other tops if they were HIV poz, and he said, "sometimes. But you're on prep anyway." I still worried about him because I know he forgets to take pills and vitamins, and worried he would miss a dose or two. Once, while we were spooning after sex, he whispered that it was hot to think that one of the thirds might be poz. I shrugged it off since I was on prep, but he kept bringing it up, that it would be hot to watch poz guys fuck me. It obviously turned him on, and I started to think about it more and more. Then there was the time he confessed, afterwards, that the other top WAS poz. He didnt bother to mention it because we were both taking meds, but he admitted to being more turned on than ever watching a poz guy fuck me...even if there was no real risk. Hearing his confession surprised me a little, but not as much as how hard I got as I processed his secret. But that was almost a year ago now. Today was his birthday, and this was his party. There was a small sheet cake on the table with his name written on it, and a few un-lit candles. Also a pint of melting ice cream, a case of beer, and a couple brown bottles of Amyl. My gaze drifted across the HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner and balloon arrangement, then bounced across the faces of the other party guests with a passive smile and a friendly nod. Seven men smiled back at me, a couple tipping their beers to me as they did so. Seven men around Kyle's age, some with dad-bods. Seven men I had never met before, but who were all a part of my birthday present to Kyle. We cut the birthday cake and sang, then mingled a bit as we ate standing. They all knew I was Kyle's boyfriend, but only a couple knew my name. I didn't ask any of their names, and none of them offered it. When everyone had finished their cake, and a couple of the men lit cigarettes, I introduced myself. "Thank you guys for coming to Kyle's party, this is an important birthday for him. I know we've never met but I'm Kyle's boyfriend Scott." They smiled and nodded, and a couple mumbled, "Hi, Scott." I continued. "I gave Kyle complete control over the guest list as part of my birthday present." Kyle stood by with his arms folded, smiling knowingly. "This year, for Kyle's birthday, I am giving him my serostatus." There was silence for a moment, and then some of the men nodded.

I have been wanting to share my story which is based on true events that happened November 2022. I’d been lurking on this site for years, jerking to the stories, putting myself in every single one of them. All the wildest ones had one thing in common: Tina. They swore she turned regular sex into something next-level, something spiritual. I was 31, Black, thick-ass bottom, and I finally needed to know if the hype was real. I didn’t know a single soul who sold T. My usual menu was weed and poppers, nothing harder. But I knew the code words cold: PnP, ❄️, clouds, “parTy,” ice emojis. So I opened Grindr, set the filters, and started hunting. That’s when Jess popped up. Black trans girl, gorgeous in that raw, late-night way. Profile full of ass shots and the little snowflake emoji. I sent the message before I could overthink it. Me Hey. First time ever trying Tina. Got $30 cash. Can you grab for me and keep some for yourself? Jess Hey cutie! Yeah I can help you out. $30 works. Where you at right now? Me Not far. Can pull up anywhere you say. Jess Cool. Can you pull up? I’ll come down to the car. Ten minutes? I drove a short 6 minutes to her. She walked out looking exactly like someone who’d already had a long night: wild curly wig, smeared lipstick, tiny halter top, Daisy Dukes so short the pockets hung lower than the shorts, skinny but curvy where it counted, and the biggest, friendliest smile. “Heyyy baby!” she said, sliding into my passenger seat. “You’re cute as hell. First time for real?” “For real,” I laughed, handing her the folded bills. “I don’t really know what to expect.” She took the money, tucked it in her bra, and pulled out a tiny baggie with nice shards sparkling inside. “Some straight fire. You’re gonna love her.” She handed it over with a wink. “This some good shit, trust me. Text me later and tell me how she treats you.” I thanked her, she hopped out, gave me one last smile, and that was it. Polite, quick, easy. Drove home buzzing with nerves and excitement. Got in the house, locked the door, and stared at the baggie like it was a winning lottery ticket. Didn’t have a pipe, didn’t know what the hell I was doing. So first I broke off a tiny piece, stuffed it in a Black & Mild, and smoked it like weed. Tasted awful, but twenty minutes later a warm little wave rolled through me. Not crazy, but enough to make me grin like an idiot and say out loud, “Okay… feels pretty good. I get it now.” An hour of gooning later I wanted the real deal. I took a fat about .15 shard, crushed it just a little, smeared lube all over my thick dildo on the fuck machine, and rolled the crystal right onto the tip. Got on all fours, backed up slow, and let it slide in. That famous burn hit instantly: sharp, fiery, perfect. I held still, letting it melt inside me, letting it soak in. Five minutes in, the switch flipped. My whole body lit up. My ass turned into one hungry, pulsing mouth. I started rocking back faster, then faster, then I just flipped the machine on high and let it rail me. Creamy lube started foaming around the shaft. My dick stayed soft (exactly like the stories said), and that made me even hornier. I grabbed my phone with shaky hands, opened Grindr again, and every ounce of fear was gone. Scrolled till I found him: “BBC 4 fat ass – can travel.” While the machine was still pounding me into another planet, I typed one-handed: Me Dick looking great and need BBC in this phat ass right now. Are condoms cool? I sent some ass pics and one of me on my fuck machine. His reply came instantly: “Damn! I need that… WYA.” I dropped my location (something I never, ever do). Twenty minutes later the doorbell rang. I opened it and there stood Nico: tall, dark, low-cut dreads, easy smile, and the thickest nine-and-a-half-inch dick I’d ever seen already swinging heavy in his sweats. I pulled him straight to the bedroom, dropped to my knees, and inhaled that beautiful, veiny monster raw. I never liked sucking dick before; it was just foreplay. Tina turned me into a different man. I worshipped that dick like it was paying my rent. A few minutes of sloppy head and I was already spinning around, spreading my cheeks. “Condom?” I managed to gasp. He rolled one on, lined up, and sank in balls-deep. Nothing in my life had ever felt that good. Every stroke lit me up from the inside. I was moaning like a porn star, pushing back, begging him to go harder. Ten minutes of pounding and Nico groaned, slammed deep, and filled the rubber. I wanted more. Went to clean him off with my mouth, but he laughed, pulled away: “Too sensitive, bro.” I joked, “If you’re sensitive now, imagine if you would’ve fucked me raw and came inside.” That made him grin wide. “Tell you what, my boy’s at the hotel with me and he loved your pics. But he only plays raw. You want both of us to run a train on that ass raw?” I froze for a second. My ass was twitching, and the thought of raw dick for the first time, by not one guy but two, which would also mean my first creampies ever… I knew this was a crossroad. A choice that would change everything. Then I smiled. “Give me ten minutes to shower and I’m there.” I closed the door behind Nico and hopped in the shower quick, water steaming hot. While I rinsed off I slid two soapy fingers inside myself, feeling how loose and hungry I still was, picturing Nico and his boy taking turns with those big raw dicks, pumping load after load deep in my guts, watching it drip down my thighs all night. I laughed under the spray, soft-dicked and hornier than I’d ever been in my life. Then I paused, towel in hand, staring at the little baggie still sitting on the counter. I wanted another bump, bad. Just enough to keep the fire roaring when those two raw dicks got in me. But I wasn’t stupid; I still had to drive across town, and the first booty-bump was already singing loud in my blood. I broke off a small shard anyway, slipped it into a tiny fold of paper, and tucked it deep in my sweats pocket with a single dab of lube in a travel packet I grabbed from the drawer. Plan was set: soon as I parked at the hotel, I’d hop in the back seat, reach back quick, slide it in, and let it melt while I walked inside already buzzing harder than ever. They’d never know I was secretly topping myself off. I threw on fresh grey sweats grabbed my keys, and headed out the door. Two raw loads were waiting… and in ten minutes I was gonna be freshly spun and ready to beg for both of them. End...for now.

Rolling around in bed I was hard as a rock and had that familiar feeling that life would be better if I had a thick cock inside me. My girlfriend was out of town and I had no plans for the night. I'd been playing with boys for years but had taken a bit of a break until recently. Once I started giving it up to horny gay boys I found a fire inside me that was endlessly hungry. So every time she was out of town for work I'd hop online and try to find a match. And so far she'd been none the wiser and I'd been having a great time. No harm, right? Tonight would be no different, I convinced myself, as I rolled over to grab my phone. What she also didn't know was that I'd been slipping up lately and going raw. Before I was in a relationship I always played raw, on prep. Since dating I'd gotten off prep and not given it much more thought. But I didn't play all that much so it didn't seem worth the trouble and potential explaining. Hard as a rock and very much in heat I began scrolling through profiles, looking for a top to play with me. Before long I found one nearby, online. His profile name was just a scorpion, no photo. Kinda odd, kinda hot I thought. Didn't think much of it. His profile was pretty sparse except for some stats (that fit my desires) and one line "Say the word and I'll make you mine". Why not. I messaged him. "horny af here, need a top to make me his tonight. i'm hosting." added a sexy photo and sent it. Waited, waited. Nothing. Fuck. Started scrolling again when a message popped in "i bet you do. send location. be naked and ready to fuck, boy" with a photo of his hard, thick cock. I didn't hesitate. I was rushing around with anxious energy getting my place tidy and stripping when i heard a knock at the door. I let him in. Tall, dark, handsome. Yum. He glanced me up and down and said "oh look at you. you're ready for it aren't you?". I nodded silently as he closed the door and began undressing. That's when I noticed the large scorpion tattoo on his chest. "you really like scorpions huh?" I asked shyly. He smirked and just replied "sure man". Feeling a little embarrassed I didn't press it further. Almost like he could sense my trepidation, he moved quickly towards me and kissed me. I melted in his arms right away. Things moved quickly to my bed, his body pressed against me, his hands exploring my body, his cock rock hard pressing against my bare ass. I was in heaven already. "you like it raw?" he moaned softly in my ear. I nodded vigorous. "good boy, im going to give it all to you". I moaned loud as he spread my legs. He slowly worked my hole, loosening me up, all the while driving me insane. By the time he had the tip in I was pulling him in deeper with my legs, begging for his cock. Fuck the lube, fuck the foreplay. I cant wait, I need it bad. He did his work well. That smirk plastered on his face as he gave me what I wanted, pushing deeper, and deeper. Finally buried deep inside me, he leaned in and started kissing me, moving from my lips to my neck. All the while pumping slowly in and out of me like his little fuck doll. I'm sure it wasn't lost on him how desperate I was for this. How bad I yearned for his cock every time he pulled back. "Mmm you love it boy. You ready for me to go harder", to which I simply replied "fuck me", sealing my fate. I didn't mind the lubeless pain. I just wanted him to fuck me. With this he started pounding me, his mouth still locked on my neck. Teeth digging in. I could feel the pain and suddenly had a little sense when I cried out softly "you'll leave a mark!". He paused his attack of my vulnerable neck only long enough to growl in my ear "more than one, I think". My body couldn't resist him so i gave in, letting him bite me hard as he plunged deep into me. "fuck it, you're ready" he said, pulling all the way out - to my great dismay. He commanded me to flip over, pulling my ass back towards him and without warning plunged right back in, knocking the air out of me. He pounded me deep and I could feel he was getting close. I didn't care. I was moaning like a whore. I wanted his load so bad. Needed it now. So did what any good bottom should and begged. He let out a dry laugh and grunted "you were never getting away" and pushed deep and shot it inside me. The feeling of his big hot load exploding in me was enough to send me over the edge into a shaking orgasm, wasting my cum all over the sheets. Panting, sweating, his cock still pulsing inside me, we laid there recovering for a few minutes. I asked him if he wanted to stick around and go again, but he had to head out. "I'll check back with you soon, and if you still need more I'll come pound a few more into you boy" and out the door he went. I was a bit puzzled by this, but I'd gotten what I wanted. I spent the rest of the evening jerking off while his cum leaked slowly out of me. Fell asleep still loaded with cum. Perfect. The next morning I woke up and looked in the mirror. Sure enough, one big hot hickey planted on my neck. It was only then his words rang back in my mind "more than one, I think". Glancing around my neck I didn't see any though. I wonder what that meant...and how I'll explain this hickey to my girlfriend...

Chapter 8 The brand on his forehead was gone, washed away in the shower that morning, but the mark remained, seared onto his soul. Nate looked at his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window of his corner office. The man staring back was familiar—the dark hair, the square jaw, the expensive suit—but his eyes were different. They were cold, clear, and predatory. The world of Dallas finance, with its posturing and cowardly ambition, now looked like a petri dish. And he, Nate, was the contagion. His phone buzzed. It was a text from Brandon. Target acquired? Nate typed back a single word. Soon. His target was Marcus Thorne. For years, they had been nemesis, two alpha dogs fighting over the same scraps of corporate meat. Marcus was a man of impeccable control, his life a fortress of discipline and achievement. But Nate, with his new eyes, could see the cracks. He saw the desperation in Marcus's eyes during their last video call, the tremor in his hand as he signed a deal. He saw a man starving to death in the middle of a feast. He invited Marcus to his office for a late-night drink, to "discuss a truce." It was a lie, of course. There were no truces in their world, only acquisitions. Marcus arrived at 9 PM, his posture rigid, his smile a thin veneer over his suspicion. "Nate. To what do I owe the pleasure?" "To a new venture, Marcus," Nate said, his voice smooth as silk. He gestured to the bar in the corner of his office. "I've acquired a new asset. I thought you might appreciate its... unique properties." He poured two glasses of Macallan 1926, a bottle so rare it was worth more than a man's life. As he turned, his body blocked Marcus's view. In one glass, he dropped a single, small shard of the clear crystal. He watched it dissolve, invisible. He handed the tainted glass to Marcus. "To new horizons," Nate toasted, clinking their glasses. Marcus took a sip, his eyes closing as the peaty smoke of the scotch filled his senses. Beneath it, the chemical fire began its silent work. They talked business, but Nate was steering the conversation, using the language Marcus understood. "Our companies are at an impasse," Nate began. "Sometimes, to move forward, you need a hostile takeover. Not of a company, but of yourself. You need to acquire the one asset you've never had the courage to put on the books: your true nature." Marcus frowned, taking another larger sip of the scotch. The potent liquor, mixed with the crystal, was already softening the sharp edges of his mind. "What are you talking about, Nate?" "Leverage, Marcus. Risk. The thrill of the unknown." Nate stood and walked around the desk, leaning against it in front of Marcus. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, then his shirt, revealing the sculpted muscle of his torso. He turned, slightly, giving Marcus a clear view of the biohazard trefoil inked above his waistband. Marcus's breath hitched. His eyes widened, a flicker of shock and something else—fear, recognition, a horrifying curiosity—in their depths. "What... what is that?" "This is the real asset, Marcus," Nate said, his voice dropping to a low, hypnotic rumble. "This is the Biohazard Brand. It's a promise. It's a brotherhood of men who have stopped playing the game and started living the truth." He walked closer, kneeling in front of the stunned man. He took the glass from Marcus's trembling hand and set it aside. "You're tired of being in control, aren't you? You're tired of the constant performance. We can offer you something else. We can offer you surrender." From his pocket, Nate produced a small, prepared syringe with a dissolved booty bump. "This is the first step," he whispered, his voice a caress. "This is the key. Let me show you how to unlock the door." He reached for Marcus's belt. The older man didn't resist. His mind was a fog of scotch and chemicals, his body humming with a terrifying, exhilarating new energy. Nate undid his trousers, pulling them down. Marcus's cock was already hard, a traitorous response to the forbidden thrill of it all. Nate turned him over the leather sofa, exposing his firm, untouched ass. He was a blank canvas, a prime piece of real estate waiting to be developed. "Relax, Marcus," Nate coached, his voice echoing Kyle's from the other night. "Breathe. This is what real power feels like. This is the poison that will set you free." He pressed the syringe against Marcus's tightly furled hole and pushed the plunger. Marcus gasped, a sharp, electric jolt shooting through him as the chemical fire spread through his most sensitive tissues. His hole began to pulse, to ache, to hunger. "That's it," Nate murmured, his finger tracing the twitching ring. "You feel that? That's your body telling you the truth. It wants this. It needs this." He leaned down, his lips next to Marcus's ear. "You're going to join us, Marcus. You're going to take the gift. You're going to be one of us." He didn't fuck him. Not yet. He simply knelt there, a possessive hand on Marcus's lower back, feeling the tremors of the man's surrender. He watched as his rival, the titan of industry, broke down in his arms, a low moan escaping his lips—a sound of defeat, and of absolute, total release. The revolution had begun. And Marcus Thorne was its first willing casualty.

Chapter 7 The click of the marker cap was the final sound in the symphony of the night. It was the period at the end of a sentence that had been writing itself for twenty years. Brandon watched Kyle step back, his work complete. There, on his twin brother’s forehead, stark and undeniable against the sweat-sheened skin, was the symbol. The biohazard trefoil. A brand more profound than any inked into flesh, because this one was applied by a brother, witnessed by a son, and consecrated by a mentor. It was a holy trinity of ownership. Nate lay in the sling, his body limp and radiant, a vessel finally filled. His eyes were closed, but a serene, beatific smile graced his lips. He wasn't the hedge fund manager anymore. He wasn't the worried father or the grieving widower. He was pure, unadulterated potential, a man reborn in the crucible of his own deepest desires. Brandon felt a surge of love so potent it was almost painful. He had done this. He had brought his brother home. His gaze shifted to Geoff, who stood like a guardian at the head of the sling. The boy was truly gone. In his place was a man, his son, his nephew, his brother-in-arms. The pride in Geoff’s eyes was a mirror of Brandon’s own. He had claimed his father, not out of spite, but out of a profound, filial need to complete the circle. He had given Nate the key, and Brandon had provided the door. And Kyle. Their old friend, their coach. The man who had been the silent third in their youthful triad, the one whose eyes had always held a knowing, predatory glint. Brandon remembered the locker room showers, the way Kyle’s gaze would linger a second too long, the unspoken tension that hummed between them all. Kyle had been the first to find the path. Years after graduation, long before Geoff was even a thought, it was Kyle who had taken Brandon to a place just like this, who had held him down and whispered, "This is what we are, Brandon. This is our real strength." It was Kyle who had given Brandon his first taste of the Scorpion's gift, the lineage that now coursed through Nate’s veins. The circle wasn't just complete; it was a perfect, sacred geometry. This was never just about sex. The straight world saw their symbols, their acts, and called them toxic, dangerous. They were right, but not in the way they meant. Their world was the poison. The mortgages, the performance reviews, the endless pursuit of a hollow, sanitized perfection—that was the real plague. The Biohazard Brand was the antidote. It was a commitment to a truth so raw and powerful it felt radioactive. It was about finding strength in submission, power in surrender, and a family in the shadows. They weren't spreading a virus; they were spreading a revelation. A soft knock came from the door. The observers. The men who had been waiting in the hall, their anticipation a palpable force. This was the next step. The transition from the intimate rite to the communal welcome. Brandon nodded to Kyle, who opened the door. The men who filed in weren't a horde of lust-crazed animals. They moved with a quiet reverence. They were brothers, each with their own story, their own brand. Some had scorpions, some had spiders, some had the trefoil like Nate’s new mark. They didn't descend on the sling. Instead, they formed a respectful line. The first man, a heavily tattooed biker, approached Nate. He didn't touch him sexually. He simply leaned down, pressed his lips to the biohazard symbol on Nate's forehead, and whispered, "Welcome home, brother." The next did the same. And the next. It was a receiving line of the damned, the saved, the chosen. Each man paid his respects to the initiate, anointing the new mark with their breath, their welcome, their shared identity. Brandon watched as Nate, barely conscious, received this communion. A single tear traced a path through the sweat on his temple, a tear of pure, unmitigated release. As the last man paid his respects, Brandon’s mind was already racing toward the future. Nate was initiated. Now the real work began. His brother wasn't just a member; he was a weapon. A man of immense wealth, influence, and discipline, now utterly and completely loyal to the brotherhood. Brandon could already see the list of names, the men in Nate’s world who wore the same mask of quiet desperation that Nate had worn for years. Business partners, rivals, members of his exclusive country club. Nate would be their shepherd. He would bring them to the slaughter, and in doing so, he would grant them salvation. The Biohazard Brand wasn't just a mark. It was a promise. And tonight, they had just gained their most powerful apostle. The revolution had just begun.

It’s kind of funny to answer cause I don’t really think of it as “men I’ve had sex with,” because that makes it sound like I’m dating or fucking one-on-one, which I rarely do. I’m a cumdump. I count loads and cocks that have used me, not “men I’ve had sex with.” So the real answer is, I have no idea how many individual guys have been inside me, haha. I stopped keeping track of total loads somewhere north of 2,000 a few years ago. Probably closer to 3,000 by now. A lot of those cocks I never saw a face to, never spoke to, don’t even know if the same guy came back for seconds or thirds. So yeah… definitely in the thousand different loads range, probably pushing two or three thousand cocks that have dumped in me or on me. Every single one raw of course or I’d never count it. Still chasing the next thousand. 😊

Chapter 2 The Texas night was thick and humid as they prepared to leave the house. The playful energy from the pool had been replaced by a charged, electric anticipation. Nate moved stiffly, his usual uniform of tailored slacks and a button-down shirt replaced by loose-fitting nylon shorts and a worn-out t-shirt from a long-ago charity run. It felt foreign, like a costume. Geoff, on the other hand, was in his element, his youthful body radiating a confident, almost predatory excitement. Brandon was the calm orchestrator, moving between them with a knowing ease. “Hydration is key,” he announced, handing them each a bottle of electric blue Gatorade. He then produced a small, unmarked bottle of clear liquid, adding a precise measure to each of their drinks. “And a little liquid courage never hurt anyone. Especially for your first time, big brother.” Nate took a hesitant sip, the sweet, chemical taste of the Gatorade mixing with a slightly salty, almost undetectable undertone. It was a jarring combination, much like the evening itself. He watched as Geoff and Brandon drank theirs without a second thought, their shared glance telling him this was a familiar ritual. The ride into Dallas in Brandon’s Porsche was a blur of city lights and thumping bass. Nate sat in the back, the leather seats cool against his skin, his mind racing. Midtowne Spa. The name itself sounded seedy, clandestine. He’d driven past the nondescript warehouse building a thousand times on his way to the office, never imagining what went on inside. Now, he was walking into the heart of it. At 9:30 PM, a line of men was already snaking out the door, a diverse mix of ages and builds, all sharing a similar look of intent. Brandon, however, didn’t even pause. He led them to a side entrance, rapping a specific rhythm on the metal door. It opened immediately, revealing a burly man with a thick beard. “Brandon, my man,” the man, Clark, grunted, pulling him into a rough hug. “Got it all set up for you. Sling room’s yours. Enjoy the party.” They moved through the dimly lit, labyrinthine hallways, the air thick with the scent of disinfectant, sweat, and something else… something chemically sweet and primal. The sounds were a symphony of grunts, moans, and the distant, rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh. Nate felt a knot of anxiety tighten in his gut. This was a world away from his carefully managed life of spreadsheets and stock tickers. The sling room was a small, private chamber dominated by a single, imposing piece of equipment: a black leather sling hanging from a heavy-duty chain in the center of the room. Shelves were lined with bottles of lube, poppers, and clean towels. Brandon tossed his backpack onto a bench, the sound of glass clinking together. “Alright, gentlemen,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “Time to get comfortable.” He stripped off his shorts and shirt, folding them neatly before wrapping a towel around his waist. Geoff followed suit, his movements fluid and confident. Nate hesitated for a moment before following their lead, the towel feeling flimsy and inadequate. From his backpack, Brandon produced a glass pipe and a small bag of crystalline shards. Nate’s eyes widened. He’d assumed the “liquid courage” was the main event. He watched as Brandon expertly heated the bowl, the white cloud of smoke swirling and growing. He took a deep hit, then passed the pipe to Geoff, who did the same. Nate, figuring it was just some exceptionally potent pot, decided he couldn’t look like a prude. He took the pipe, mimicked their movements, and inhaled. The smoke was harsh and acrid, unlike any marijuana he’d ever encountered. It hit him instantly, a rush of euphoria that made his head spin and his heart hammer in his chest. Geoff, his eyes now glassy and dilated, grinned and hopped into the sling, settling his lean, muscular body into the leather stirrups. He looked like a beautiful offering, a sacrifice to a new god. Nate watched, mesmerized and horrified, as Brandon pulled a rubber tourniquet from the backpack and tied it around his son’s bicep. “What are you doing?” Nate breathed, his voice barely a whisper. “Relax, Dad,” Geoff said, his voice dreamy and calm. Brandon handed him a small syringe. With a practiced hand, Geoff found a vein in the crook of his arm and pushed the plunger. A small bead of blood welled up as he released the tourniquet. He threw his head back, a guttural moan escaping his lips as the chemicals coursed through his system. His body arched in the sling, his cock suddenly rock hard and straining against the towel. Nate was frozen, his mind screaming in alarm, but the drug coursing through his veins kept him anchored to the spot, a passive observer to the unimaginable. Brandon offered him the syringe. “Your turn, Nate.” He shook his head, a silent, adamant refusal. He did, however, accept the pipe when it came back around, blowing another cloud into his lungs, the world dissolving into a haze of intense, abstract pleasure. Brandon propped the door open slightly, an invitation. Then he turned his attention to the boy in the sling. He positioned himself between Geoff’s spread legs, his own formidable cock hard and ready. He entered him slowly, deliberately, a long, deep thrust that made Geoff cry out. Brandon began to move, his hips rolling in a powerful, hypnotic rhythm as he slowly drilled into his nephew. Nate stood by the wall, his own forgotten towel tented, his mouth agog. He watched his identical twin’s powerful back flex and tense with each thrust. He watched his son’s face, a mask of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. The sight of Brandon’s thick cock disappearing into Geoff’s willing body, the sounds of their shared pleasure, the raw, uninhibited masculinity of it all… it was the most shocking, most transgressive, and without a doubt, the sexiest thing Nate had ever seen in his entire life. The buttoned-up hedge fund manager felt a wall inside himself crumble into dust. The night, he knew, was just getting started.

My hole is taking a little break after being used HARD for nearly 12 hours straight, had a cock (or 2) pounding me non stop and loaded me till the marks the tops left started smearing lol

Chapter 10: The Sanctum The red light of the Bacchanalia faded in Nate’s rearview mirror, replaced by the sterile white glow of Preston Hollow streetlamps. The mansion, with its symphony of flesh and its roaring chemical-fueled energy, felt like a dream from another life—or perhaps, a life they had just conquered. Now, as the Porsche glided silently into the driveway, the mission was over. The work was done. It was time to go home. Home. The word had a new weight, a new texture. It was no longer just a glass-walled house filled with expensive furniture and the ghost of a dead wife. It was a sanctum. A fortress for the four of them. They moved through the house with a quiet, exhausted intimacy. The energy from the mansion still clung to them—a musky, electric aura—but it was softening, settling into the familiar comfort of their shared space. Kyle Simmons, no longer "Coach" but simply "Kyle," moved with the easy confidence of a man who belonged. He dropped his bag by the door, his large frame seeming to fill the entryway with a grounded strength. No words were needed. They all knew the ritual. It was a purification of a different kind. One by one, they shed the clothes from the outside world and walked into the massive, open-air shower that adjoined the master suite. The water, hot and steamy, cascaded over their bodies, washing away the sweat, the lube, the piss, and the seed of the night. They didn't speak. They touched. Brandon soaped Nate’s back, his hands gentle, reverent. Geoff stood under the spray with Kyle, their foreheads pressed together, sharing a quiet moment of connection that went beyond the raw lust of the public arena. This was cleansing. This was returning to the self. Later, wrapped in thick, luxurious robes, they gathered in the living room. The floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the dark, sleeping city, but their world was contained within the warm, lamplit circle of the room. Brandon, ever the provider, built a fire in the grand hearth. Kyle produced a bottle of aged tequila and four glasses. Geoff put on a low, ambient record. This was their new normal. The Bacchanalia was the church, the sermon, the conversion. This was the fellowship, the quiet worship of each other. They sat on the plush rugs before the fire, a tangle of limbs and comfortable silence. The conversation started softly, a debriefing of the night's events. "Did you see the look on Thorne's face when he drank the chalice?" Geoff chuckled, a deep, proud sound. "He looked like he was dying and being born all at once." "He was," Kyle said, swirling the tequila in his glass. "You broke him perfectly, son. That's a gift." He looked at Nate, his eyes filled with a warmth that transcended their decades of friendship. "And you. You were a predator tonight. A king." Nate leaned his head against Brandon’s shoulder, a gesture of pure, unguarded affection. "I learned from the best." He looked at his twin, his son, his friend. "But that's out there. This..." He gestured to the space between them. "...this is what's real." The air grew thick again, but this time it wasn't the chemically charged haze of the spa. It was the slow, deliberate burn of intimacy, of love, of profound, undeniable need. Brandon set his glass down and moved behind Nate, his hands gently untying the belt of his robe. "Our king needs to be serviced," he murmured, his lips brushing Nate’s ear. Nate leaned back, a soft sigh escaping him as Brandon’s hands roamed over his chest. Kyle turned to Geoff, his expression softening. "And my champion? What does he need?" Geoff didn't answer with words. He simply knelt before Kyle, undoing his mentor's robe and taking his already hardening cock into his mouth. It wasn't an act of submission, but of worship. A son honoring the man who had helped guide him, who had completed his father's initiation. The scene that unfolded was the antithesis of the Bacchanalia. It was slow, tender, and exquisitely explicit. Brandon laid Nate down on the thick fur rug before the fire. He entered his twin slowly, face to face, their bodies moving together in a rhythm as old as their shared heartbeat. There was no talk of breeding or gifting, only whispered endearments and the soft sounds of pleasure. It was a reaffirmation of their bond, a love that had survived and been reborn. Beside them, Kyle laid Geoff on his back, lifting his legs. He entered his former student with the same powerful control he’d used in the sling room, but tempered with a deep, abiding affection. "You've become a man, Geoff," Kyle grunted softly, his hips rolling in a deep, steady rhythm. "A man I'm proud to call brother." They moved as two interconnected pairs, a beautiful, incestuous tableau of love and lust. The firelight danced on their sweat-slicked skin, illuminating the tattoos that marked them as members of the same tribe. The sounds were not of grunts and slaps, but of soft moans, whispered names, and the gentle rhythm of four bodies finding their home in each other. One by one, they reached their peaks, not with explosive roars, but with quiet, shuddering climaxes that felt like a release of the soul. Brandon flooded his twin's ass, and Nate’s own cum spurted between their bodies. Kyle emptied himself into Geoff, who cried out his mentor's name as he came. They lay in a heap, a tangled, satisfied mess of limbs and love. The fire crackled, the city slept, and outside, the revolution they had just ignited continued to spread. But in here, in their sanctum, they were just a family. A father, his brother, his son, and his best friend. Four men, bound by blood, by ink, by seed, and by a love so profound it had poisoned them to perfection. And they were home.

Chapter 9: The Bacchanalia The ride from Nate’s office was a non-linear journey through a neon-slicked nightmare. Marcus was no longer the pilot of his own body; he was a passenger strapped into a vessel hurtling toward an unknown, terrifying destination. The city lights blurred into streaking watercolors, and the low, authoritative thrum of Nate’s voice was the only thing anchoring him to a reality that was rapidly dissolving. They didn't go to the Midtowne Spa. This was something else entirely. The Porsche pulled up to a sprawling, modernist mansion in the exclusive enclave of Turtle Creek, its glass walls glowing with an eerie, pulsing red light, like a heart beating in the night. Inside, the air was a physical entity, a thick, humid soup of incense, sweat, amyl poppers, and the raw, musky smell of aroused, chem-fueled men. This was no clandestine gathering in a back room; this was a full-blown Bacchanalia, a cathedral of flesh dedicated to the glorious poison of their truth. The main room was a panorama of unbridled lust. To Marcus's left, a man with intricate tribal tattoos covering his entire back was strapped to a St. Andrew's cross. A masked dom, his own cock a thick, heavy club, systematically worked a series of increasingly large sounding rods down the man's urethra, while a third man knelt at his feet, not just drinking, but bathing his face in the stream of piss that erupted from the bound man's cock. His moans were a mixture of agony and ecstatic surrender. Near the grand fireplace, a geyser of golden shower was in full effect. A muscular, silver-haired man stood over a younger, leaner partner who was on his knees, mouth open, receiving the warm, chem-laced piss directly onto his tongue and down his chest. The younger man was stroking himself furiously, his body glistening, lost in the act of total degradation and worship. In a corner, a group was gathered around a black gyno table, their faces illuminated by the glow of their glass pipes as they blew clouds into the air, the smoke mingling with the scent of Crisco and lube. The man on the table, his legs held back by two others, was being fisted. The top, his arm buried to the forearm in the man's hole, worked it slowly, methodically, twisting his fist. "Open up for me, you beautiful pig," he grunted. "Take my fucking arm. I want to feel your heartbeat from the inside." The man on the table could only respond with guttural, animalistic grunts, his cock leaking a steady stream of clear fluid onto his own stomach. Everywhere Marcus looked, there were rituals of conversion. A man in a leather sling was being slam-fucked by a top who had just administered a powerful hit to the bottom's jugular, the rush hitting him instantly as the top's cock pounded away. Another pair was in a 69, shotgunning thick clouds of meth smoke back and forth between them, their bodies writhing, their connection a feedback loop of chemicals and lust. This was the brotherhood in its full, unadulterated glory. A tribe of beautifully damned souls, all celebrating the gift, all passing their strains in a glorious, orgiastic communion. Brandon and Geoff moved through the throng like sharks, their presence commanding immediate respect. Geoff, his body already gleaming with a sheen of sweat, approached Marcus and Nate. He gave his father a deep, possessive kiss, tasting the chemicals on his breath, then turned his burning eyes to the new initiate. "Welcome to the family," he growled. "Time for your conversion." He led a dazed, pliant Marcus to the center of the room, to a single, black leather sling hanging under a stark, focused spotlight. It was an altar. The room's activity didn't stop; it simply shifted its focus. All eyes, all energy, turned to the new offering. Marcus, stripped of his suit and his dignity, was guided into the sling. His legs were placed in the stirrups, his hole exposed and twitching, a desperate, empty void that suddenly ached with a need so profound it was terrifying. Nate stood by his head, stroking his hair, his voice a calming anchor in the storm. "Just let go, Marcus," he whispered. "Stop fighting. Receive the gift." But Marcus couldn't hold it in. The sight, the sounds, the chemicals roaring through his system—it was too much. His hole, his very being, was crying out. "Please," he whimpered, the word torn from his throat. "Oh god, please... fill me. I need it. I need it so bad." A collective, appreciative murmur went through the crowd. The initiate was ready. Brandon appeared with a ornate, silver chalice filled with a steaming, golden liquid. "The first communion," he announced, his voice resonating through the room. "Drink. It's from the brothers. It will prepare you for the breeding." Marcus, lost in a haze of complete submission, drank deeply. The liquid was hot, salty, and bitter, the unmistakable taste of chem-piss from dozens of men. It was a potent offering of their collective essence, a final act of defilement that felt strangely like purification. It burned down his throat and settled in his gut, a fire that demanded to be quenched. Now the true ritual began. Geoff was the first to claim him. He stood between Marcus's spread legs, his own poz cock thick, hard, and dripping. "This is the Brand's welcome," he snarled, spitting a thick wad onto Marcus's hungry hole. "You're about to get a full introduction." He entered with a single, brutal thrust, making Marcus cry out, a sound of pure, unadulterated relief. As Geoff began to fuck, Brandon knelt, his own hands slick with lube. He began to work his fist into Marcus's hole alongside Geoff's pistoning cock. The double penetration was an overwhelming, white-hot flash of agony and ecstasy that shattered what was left of Marcus's mind into a million glittering pieces. "You're taking it," Nate coached from above, his voice a steady drumbeat in the symphony of lust. "You're taking our gift. You're being bred by the brotherhood." Geoff fucked him hard, his balls slapping against Marcus's ass, until he roared and buried himself deep, pumping a toxic load into Marcus's guts. "First seeding done!" he yelled, pulling out. But the sling wasn't empty for a second. Another man took his place, then another. It was a conga line of conversion. Each man had a different strain, a different story. A massive, muscle-bound bear with a spider tattoo grunted as he added his load. A lean, twink-like figure with a demonic brand followed suit. Marcus was a vessel, a receptacle for the collective seed of the tribe. He was no longer Marcus Thorne, the CEO. He was a hole, a canvas, a thing to be bred and marked. After a dozen men had gifted him, his hole was a gaping, messy masterpiece, dripping with a river of cum. The final participant stepped forward: Nate. He looked down at his rival, now a whimpering, broken, blissed-out thing. His hole was ruined, his body covered in sweat and spit, his mind completely rewritten. This was the ultimate hostile takeover. Nate entered him slowly, his nine-inch cock sliding into the sloppy, well-used depths with ease. "This is it, Marcus," he said, his voice low and final. "This is my strain. The one that started it all in our world. I'm not just breeding you. I'm claiming you. You belong to me now. You belong to the Brand." He began to fuck, not with anger, but with a deep, possessive rhythm. As he thrust, he reached down and grabbed Marcus's cock, which was inexplicably rock hard. He began to jerk him off in time with his strokes. "You're going to cum for me, Marcus," Nate commanded. "You're going to cum while I'm breeding you. You're going to associate this pleasure, this surrender, with your new purpose." The command was absolute. Marcus's body arched, and with a strangled scream, he erupted, shooting a massive load of his own cum across his chest. The sight of his total surrender sent Nate over the edge. He slammed in deep and unleashed his own potent, toxic seed, the final, definitive deposit in the breeding. He stayed plugged in, marking his territory. The room erupted in applause, not of politeness, but of primal approval. Brandon stepped forward, a tattoo gun in his hand this time. The buzzing of the needle cut through the air. "He is one of us," Brandon declared. He began to work on Marcus's lower back, just above his ass, etching the permanent biohazard trefoil into his skin. Marcus didn't even flinch. He just lay there, a tear of pure joy rolling down his cheek as the needle burned his new identity into his flesh. The Bacchanalia had succeeded. The Brand had claimed another soul. And as Nate watched, he knew this was only the beginning. They were a plague, and they were just learning how to spread.

My suggestion would be just to indicate that the story was created with an LLM/AI. That way people can know and if they choose not to read it because of that, it's clear, up front. I appreciate that on BDSMLR when people say that pictures/vids are LLM created.

Yes and have. If he’s got a dick and wants to dump a load, I don’t care about much else. I’ve had Doms offer me up to take loads in alleys, behind dumpsters, wherever he tells me to bend over. Some of the roughest, most selfish breeds I’ve ever taken came from evidently homeless guys who hadn’t nutted in days and used my hole like it was the first warm thing they’d felt in a while. lol I’m a cumdump, not a chooser. If he needs to unload, my hole available.

If a bottom took your dick raw I don’t see why he would ask you to pull out. There’s probably already enough pre-cum to do whatever he’s having second-thoughts about I never say it myself, but when other bottoms do, I hope Tops keep going and dump anyway. It feels so right when a man decides my cunt is where his load belongs and nothing I say changes that. As a raw bottom cumdump, I’d say please breed us even when we beg you not to. We need it more than we admit, and will be happier in the end no matter what we tell ourselves.

I am soooooo HORNY today.... Where that Toxic ☣️ Poz Seed at to cum breed me with 😈💦

It was the morning of my 18th birthday! My folks were out of town but they had given me permission to have some friends over to celebrate. I planned on my buddies coming over around 8 o'clock that night. What I hadn't planned on was waking up to find all the lights in the house flickering on and off. Fortunately, my parents had left an emergency list on the kitchen counter in case any problems came up. Sure enough, Electrician - Roger Davis, was on the list. I called him and he said he would be by in an hour or two. I made myself some breakfast and was in the middle of exercising when the doorbell rang. I answered it wearing only a skimpy pair of workout shorts and a tank top. Standing there was the electrician. He spoke, "Hi, son! I'm Roger Davis. Most people know me as Ol' Roger! Can I come in?" He didn't look old at all to me and I told him so. His face lit up in a broad grin. "Thank you, son! That's nice of you to say! You look pretty good yourself! Now...can you show me where the power box is? In the basement maybe?" I took him down into our basement. My dad had fixed it up years ago so it was pretty comfortable down there...like a play room! I showed him where the electric panel was located. He said, "Give me a few minutes to check things out." I sat down on the sofa we had down there. I told him about my party that night...how excited I was. He was a handsome guy and he noticed I that kept looking at him. He would just look back at me and smile. That kind of flustered me so I mostly babbled on about inconsequential stuff. After about 15 minutes, he said, "There! That should take care of it!" and he flipped on the master switch. All the lights came back on without a trace of flickering. He looked at me with interest and said, "Most guys would be upstairs texting their girlfriends instead of sitting down here talking with Ol' Roger. I'm wondering...is there somethin' else I can do for you?" In response, I turned beet red. He slowly pulled his t-shirt up over his head and tossed it onto his toolbox. I'd never seen a Biohazard tattoo on a man before, but I knew full well what it signified. It sure made me nervous but it kinda turned me on as well. His smile stretched wider. "You lookin' to get fucked, son? You want my big black dick, do ya? I bet you're a VIRGIN, ain't ya?" He saw me trembling and said, "You're not scared of Ol' Roger, are you?" I WAS...but I didn't want him to know that so I blurted, "I'm not afraid of you!" He asked, "You think you can handle what I got?" I hotly replied, "I can handle ANYTHING!" "His response was, "We'll see about that!" With that he advanced upon me. I backed up until my legs hit the sofa. He pushed my chest, toppling me backwards onto the cushions. In one swift motion he had yanked down my shorts and thrown them aside. Before I could even think of escaping, he bent over and engulfed my dick with his warm wet mouth. It was like everything in my brain suddenly got reset. As his lips moved up and down my shaft and his tongue swirled around the head of my cock, my resistance faded completely away. He put his strong calloused hands under my knees and raised my legs up in the air. As they parted, he stepped between them and placed my ankles on his shoulders. I heard the sound of his zipper being lowered and softer sounds as he shed his pants. I felt the tip of his cock poke into my ball sac. He gazed down at me and said with a smile, "It's your Birthday, Baby! Ol' Roger has a Special Gift for you!" I could figure out what he meant by that. He was planning on putting his infected cum inside me. I remembered that some guys called that GIFTING. My thoughts whirled. How could I stop this from happening? Just then, he parked his stiff dick against my hole, ready to invade my innards, so I clenched my sphincter, determined to keep him out. His smile never wavered! "You KNOW you want it," he crooned as he gently started a backwards and forwards motion with his hips. On the third or fourth push, my body betrayed me. My clenched hole relaxed slightly. Just enough for his dick to nudge in about an inch or two. "That's it, Baby!" he sighed! "Just let it happen!" The gentle battering continued, and with each thrust, his penis sank in a little deeper...and deeper still...until I felt his pubes against my ass cheeks. He paused for a moment and then the fucking began in earnest. 10 minutes later he stiffened, shuddered and cried out, "Take my dirty seed!" as he shot his toxic sperm deep within me. After we both caught our breaths, he pulled out of me, stood up and got dressed. He looked at me and said, "Your mom & dad are gonna be real surprised when you test HIV-positive in a couple of months! If they throw your faggot ass out, don't worry! You can always come live with Ol' Roger. Plenty of the punks I’ve pozzed now live with me. I pimp them out to sick fucks that pay good money just to fuck an AIDS WHORE. I'll put you to work out there with the other punks I've given my bug to. You'll see...being a Poz Whore ain't so bad!”

Chapter 6 (brought to you by @pozzible and Venice.ai) Kyle Simmons watched the scene unfold with the calm, predatory patience of a hunter who had been tracking his prey for years. But this wasn't a hunt. This was an ordination. Nate, his oldest friend, his brother-in-arms from the wrestling mats, was finally where he was always meant to be: spread open, vulnerable, his hole glistening and already leaking the precious seed of his own son. The air in the room was a holy perfume of sweat, sex, and chemicals, the incense of their new church. He stepped forward, his massive frame eclipsing the light from the hallway. He saw the flicker of old-world fear and shame in Nate's eyes, the last dying embers of the man who worried about portfolios and PTA meetings. Kyle was here to extinguish those embers and fan the flames of the man who was being born. "Kyle," Nate breathed, the name a prayer and a confession. "Nate," Kyle rumbled, his voice a low gravel that vibrated in his own chest. He ran a hand over his own belly, feeling the raised edges of the black scorpion tattoo. "Heard you were finally joining the club." He was wearing only a towel around his waist, the standard uniform of the spa. With a single, sharp tug, he released it, letting it fall to the floor. His ten-inch cock sprang free, a formidable weapon, thick and veiny, a tool of his trade that had stealthed countless men, a ghost in the night, leaving his mark without a word. But tonight was different. Tonight, he would be a god, and his name would be known. He stepped into the room, his eyes locking onto Nate’s well-fucked, cum-leaking hole. "Been a long time, my friend," he said, stroking his monstrous shaft, the foreskin pulling back to reveal a glistening, angry head. "But I'm not gonna be a ghost this time. You're gonna feel every inch of this. And you're gonna know exactly what I'm giving you." As Kyle positioned himself between Nate's legs, Brandon moved with the quiet efficiency of a high priest preparing a sacrifice. In his hand was a syringe, already loaded with a clear, viscous liquid. He found a prominent vein on Kyle's powerful bicep, the muscle corded with years of discipline. "Time for the sacrament, Coach," Brandon murmured. Kyle didn't flinch as the needle slid home and the plunger was depressed. He simply inhaled sharply as the fire slammed into his bloodstream, his eyes rolling back for a second before snapping open, burning with a new, feral intensity. At the same time, Geoff knelt by the sling. He held the glass pipe, the bowl glowing cherry red as he inhaled. But he didn't shotgun it. Instead, he leaned down and pressed his lips to his father's well-used hole, creating a seal. He exhaled, forcing a thick cloud of chem-smoke directly into Nate's ass. Nate gasped, his body arching as the potent vapor was absorbed directly into the sensitive tissues, his hole instantly buzzing, tingling, and opening like a flower in the sun. Kyle ran a calloused finger up the inside of Nate's thigh, making him shudder. "I've been waiting for this, Nate," Kyle said, his voice a low growl, amplified by the slam. "All those years I watched you on the mat, I saw the fire in you. But you were always holding back. Always playing by their rules." He leaned in, his face inches from Nate's now steaming hole. "This is our rule now. The only one that matters." He spat, a thick wad of saliva landing directly on Nate's puckered entrance. He used the head of his cock to smear it around, mixing it with Geoff's leaking cum and the lingering cloud of smoke. "You see, that boy of yours… he gave you the key. He unlocked the door. But I'm the one who's gonna show you what's on the other side." He pushed the thick head of his cock against the slick, swollen ring. "This is the Scorpion's gift, Nate. A lineage of pure, unadulterated power. It’s gonna burn through you, remake you from the inside out." With a slow, inexorable push, he began to enter. Nate cried out, his back arching off the leather. Kyle was bigger than Geoff, thicker, and his entry was a statement of pure, unadulterated dominance. "Fuck yeah, that's it," Kyle grunted, feeding another inch into the tight, velvety heat. "Take that fucking poz dick. Feel me opening you up." He brought his hand down in a sharp, stinging slap on Nate's ass. SMACK! "This hole belongs to the brotherhood now!" He began to move, his strokes long and powerful, each one a lesson in submission. He wasn't just fucking; he was sculpting, rearranging Nate's insides to fit his own massive shape. "Breathe through it, Nate," he coached, his hips pistoning. "Open up for me. Let me in. You need this. You've always needed this." Geoff leaned down, his face next to his father's. "You see, Dad? This is what it's all about. This is the family we always should have been." He dribbled spit into Nate's open, gasping mouth. The sight of his friend, his protégé, now a man and a dominant in his own right, sent a fresh wave of lust through Kyle. He grabbed Nate's hips, his grip like iron, and began to pound in earnest, the sound of his heavy balls slapping against Nate's ass filling the room. He was a machine, a relentless force of nature, and Nate was the earth he was plowing. "Time for your real seeding, my friend," Kyle roared, his rhythm turning brutal. "Time to give you my fucking toxic gift!" He slammed into Nate one last time, burying himself to the hilt. His body went rigid, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as his cock erupted, pumping a massive, infectious load deep into Nate's guts. It was a flood, a torrent of his very essence, the Scorpion's venom finding its new home. Nate screamed, a sound of pure, agonizing ecstasy as he felt the hot, potent flood fill him, triggering his own explosive orgasm, his cock firing ropes of cum across his chest and stomach. Kyle stayed plugged in for a long moment, his chest heaving, ensuring every last drop was deposited. He slowly pulled out, and a river of cum, his and Geoff's, flowed from Nate's gaping, well-used hole. But the ritual wasn't over. Brandon stepped forward, a black permanent marker in his hand. He nodded at Kyle, who took it from him. The coach looked down at Nate, who was lying limp, spent, and radiant in the sling. His face was a mask of sublime surrender. "We claim you," Kyle said, his voice now solemn, a priest performing the final rite. He uncapped the marker and, with a steady hand, drew a perfect, stark biohazard trefoil on Nate's forehead. It was a brand more profound than any ink on skin. It was a mark of ownership, of purpose, of a new birth. "He is one of us now," Kyle declared to the room, to the universe. "He is Biohazard."

Chapter 5 The air in the sling room was thick enough to chew, a miasma of sweat, spent seed, and the acrid tang of chemicals that clung to the walls and saturated their very pores. The sacred silence that had followed Nate and Geoff’s union was broken by the click of a lighter. Brandon, ever the facilitator, the high priest of their new religion, was already preparing the next sacrament. He held the glass pipe, the bowl glowing a furious orange as he inhaled deeply, his chest expanding. He didn’t exhale. Instead, he crossed the room to where Nate was still leaning against the wall, his legs weak, his mind reeling from the seismic shift in his reality. “Open up, big brother,” Brandon commanded, his voice a low, intimate growl. He grabbed Nate by the back of the neck, pulling him into a rough kiss. As Nate’s lips parted, Brandon shot the thick, white cloud directly into his lungs, a shotgun blast of pure, unadulterated euphoria. Nate choked, sputtered, and then held it, his eyes rolling back as the wave crashed over him, washing away the last vestiges of the man he used to be. Brandon repeated the process with Geoff, who was still lying in the sling, his body glowing with a post-orgasmic sheen. Geoff accepted the smoke with a practiced ease, his glassy eyes fixed on his father. “Round two,” Brandon announced, a predatory grin spreading across his face. From the backpack, he produced another small syringe and a fresh, sterile ampoule. He expertly drew the clear, viscous liquid into the barrel. “Time to open that hole up properly, Nate. Get you ready for what’s coming.” Nate, lost in a chemical haze, offered no resistance. He simply bent over the bench, presenting his firm, muscular ass to his brother. Brandon pulled his cheeks apart, exposing the tightly furled bud. He squirted a glob of lubricant onto his fingers, worked it in, and then pressed the tip of the syringe against Nate’s sphincter. With a firm, steady push, he depressed the plunger, sliding the entire booty bump deep into his brother’s hole. Nate gasped, a sharp, electric jolt of pleasure-pain shooting up his spine as the dissolved crystal began to absorb directly into his tissues. His hole began to tingle, then to pulse, a warm, hungry ache spreading through him. Meanwhile, Geoff had prepared his own slam. With the focus of a champion athlete, he tied off, found a vein, and sent the charge rocketing into his own bloodstream. The effect was immediate and profound. His body tensed, every muscle straining as the fire flooded his system. A low, guttural growl rumbled in his chest, his eyes burning with a feral, possessive light. The boy was gone. In his place stood a virile, dominant bull, his nine-inch cock jutting out from his body, thick, hard, and leaking a steady stream of clear, potent precum. He had waited years for this moment, dreamed of it, and now, his father was finally his to claim. “On your back, Dad,” Geoff ordered, his voice deeper, rougher than before. “In the sling. It’s your turn.” Nate complied, his movements clumsy with lust and chemical surrender. He settled into the leather, his legs placed in the stirrups, his hole exposed and twitching with anticipation. Geoff stood between his father’s spread legs, his powerful frame casting a shadow over the man who had raised him. He ran a hand possessively over Nate’s thigh, the muscles tensing at his touch. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Geoff began, his voice a low, intense murmur as he guided the head of his cock to his father’s slick, puckered entrance. “All those years, watching you, wanting to be just like you. But that’s over now. It’s time for you to earn your brand. It’s time for you to take what I’m giving you.” He pushed forward, sinking the first few inches into his father’s hole. Nate cried out, a raw sound of shock and overwhelming pleasure. The feeling was immense, his son’s thick cock stretching him, filling him in a way he’d never been filled before. “Fuck yeah, take it,” Geoff snarled, his hips beginning to move, a slow, deliberate drilling rhythm that forced more and more of his length inside. He leaned forward, his face hovering over Nate’s, a string of spit connecting his lips to his father’s. He opened his mouth and let the saliva drip directly onto Nate’s tongue. “You’re gonna take my fucking poz load, Dad. You’re gonna take my toxic cum right up your guts. I’m gonna breed you. I’m gonna impregnate your hole with my seed.” His thrusts grew harder, faster, the slap of his hips against Nate’s ass echoing in the small room. He brought his hand down hard on Nate’s butt cheek, leaving a red, stinging print. SMACK! “This is my hole now!” he roared, his control completely gone. “You hear me? You’re my fucking bitch! You’re gonna take my poz gift and you’re gonna thank me for it!” SMACK! He punctuated the declaration with another sharp slap, his rhythm turning into a brutal, possessive pounding. He was no longer making love; he was claiming, marking, seeding. He was pozzing his own father, fulfilling the ultimate purpose of their bond. Nate was lost, a vessel of pure sensation. The words, the slaps, the overwhelming feeling of his son’s toxic cock rearranging his insides—it was a nirvana he never knew existed. He met Geoff’s gaze, and what he saw there wasn’t a boy, but a god, and he was his willing altar. The pressure built in both of them, a frantic, desperate climb toward the inevitable. “Gonna fucking seed you! Gonna give you my biohazard!” Geoff howled, his body locking up as his orgasm hit him like a freight train. He buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing violently as he unleashed a massive, infectious load deep into his father’s guts. Nate felt the hot, potent flood, and it triggered his own climax, his cock erupting without even being touched, painting his own chest with thick ropes of cum. Their triumphant, explosive cries mingled, a symphony of incestuous, viral conquest. They lay panting, Geoff collapsed onto his father’s chest, his softening cock still plugged deep inside him. The door to the room creaked open, and Brandon’s voice cut through the haze. “Beautiful, boys. Absolutely beautiful.” He stepped aside, and a new figure filled the doorway. He was a mountain of a man, broad-shouldered and thickly muscled, with a salt-and-pepper beard and a familiar, predatory grin. It was Coach Kyle Simmons, Geoff’s high school wrestling coach, and Nate and Brandon’s oldest friend. “Kyle,” Nate breathed, his eyes wide. “Nate,” Coach Simmons rumbled, his voice a low gravel. He began to strip off his tank top, revealing the intricate tattoo that started as a black scorpion on his belly and traced a path down, disappearing into the waistband of his gym shorts. “Heard you were finally joining the club.” He hooked his thumbs into his shorts and pulled them down, freeing his massive, ten-inch cock. It was a formidable weapon, thick and veiny, already standing at attention. He’d stealthed countless men, a ghost in the night, leaving his mark without a word. But tonight was different. He stepped into the room, his eyes locking onto Nate’s well-fucked, cum-leaking hole. “Been a long time, my friend,” he said, stroking his monstrous shaft. “But I’m not gonna be a ghost this time. You’re gonna feel every inch of this. And you’re gonna know exactly what I’m giving you.” He smiled, and it was the smile of a shark. “Time to get your real first seeding, Nate.”

Chapter 4 He was home, but not in the way he’d understood the word for forty-one years. This wasn't the house in Preston Hollow; this was a state of being. The real Nate, the man buried under layers of tailored suits, stock reports, and suffocating grief, was finally clawing his way out of the gauze. The chrysalis of his former life had cracked, and he was emerging, wet and trembling, into a new and brilliant light. And the first thing he needed to do, the only thing that mattered, was to get to know the magnificent son he had made. Geoff, ever the willing vessel, climbed back into the sling, his body limp and radiant from the intensity of his own experience. Nate approached him not as a conqueror, but as a worshipper. He knelt, his knees touching the cool tile floor, and began to cover his son. He pressed his lips to every inch of skin he could find—his ankles, his shins, his knees. He kissed the powerful muscles of his thighs, the hard planes of his stomach, the sensitive skin of his chest. He kissed the state championship medal that still hung around Geoff’s neck, then moved to his neck, his jaw, his closed eyelids. It was a baptism of kisses, an anointment, a father rediscovering his own creation. Slowly, reverently, Nate worked his way back down. He bypassed the jutting cock, still slick from their earlier union, and continued lower. He pushed Geoff’s legs back, exposing the beautiful, slightly swollen, well-used boihole. He had never known. He had never even imagined. He leaned in and inhaled the musky, primal scent of his son, of his own seed mingled with his brother’s. He tentatively stuck out his tongue and tasted. It was a feast. A salty, metallic, deeply personal feast that was more intoxicating than any drug. He lapped at the tender flesh, his tongue probing, tasting, claiming. He was devouring his son, and in doing so, devouring the last of his own inhibitions. Rising to his feet, his own nine-inch cock throbbing with a need that was almost painful, Nate positioned himself at the entrance to this new heaven. He looked into Geoff’s eyes, which were now open and watching him with an expression of pure, unadulterated love. There was no urgency, no frenzy. This was something else entirely. He entered his son ever so gently, a slow, deliberate slide that felt like coming home for the first time. The well-used hole welcomed him, yielding to his length, the heat enveloping him completely. They made love like a father and son should. Nate’s thrusts were deep and measured, each one a promise, each one a declaration of a love that transcended all societal boundaries. He wasn't just fucking his son; he was healing him, and healing himself. Their bodies moved in a sacred, synchronized rhythm, a dance of creation and reunion. The world outside the room ceased to exist. There was only the sling, the two of them, and the profound, soul-shattering connection that flowed between them. The pressure built not in their loins, but in their hearts, a crescendo of emotion that could no longer be contained. Nate felt his climax rising from the depths of his soul, and he saw the same awareness dawn in Geoff’s eyes. As one, they cried out, their voices mingling in a single, perfect chord of release. Nate’s cock pulsed, flooding his son’s body with a second, even more potent offering of his essence, while Geoff’s own cock spurted thick ropes of cum across his heaving chest. They climaxed in unison, a perfect, synchronized explosion of father and son, their bodies locked together, their spirits finally, irrevocably, one.

Same here exactly. Every bottom needs to know this. The top will instruct you how he wants to use you. It's not a negotiation or a democracy.

I'm hoping that this (ex-bi) guy, turns out to be more resistant to the poz bug than most, as this would necessitate some more chapters in the erotic tale........ describing a few more horny breeding sessions. Each session becoming more extreme than the last, reflecting the gifter's increading frustration at now being able to add this particular neg hole to his trophy cabinet! 😇 So, maybe a blindfold; then a full hood and some restraints and a tape gag.Then the anti is upped using stronger poppers; (can't use / or refer to use of chems in this section), but the neg sub can be plied with alcohol to 'deaden the pain' he would otherwise feel result from the vicious use of a sharpened finger nail (to scratch the lining of his rectum), but also the more brutal fucking (practically rape level) that finally takes taking place.

Of course, but then there’s have your cake and eat it too, right — I don’t think our current relationship will wane as long as there is good communication.

Poz bottom in Alton, Illinois. Looking for some heavy shooters that can cum fill up my ass or throat. Sloppier the better. Cum use me.

I love getting rimmed as well. I love the feeling of taking a tongue in my hole. Even better if it's followed by a hard cock or a fist.

Well, not really evil but fukkin horny - for me at least. There was this real hot guy in the gym locker room I’d seen several times. He used to leave his kit on the bench and take a long shower. One time I stole his jocks - tight white briefs. Took them into the bathroom. Put them over my face and breathed in. Man he smelled good. I was hard as fuck so I shot my load into the pouch and put them back. I stayed to watch him put them back on knowing that his balls were now cupped with my sperm.

I'm a true voyeur. Love to watch a couple get naked and have sex in front of me.... and my ex loved watching me take a cock or two. In fact, he would sit and stroke his cock the entire time and record me taking a cock or two. Always hot for us to watch at a later date and fuck while watching

No blood, no permanent damage, but I love it hard and rough. Being tossed around, spanked, slapped, stepped on, pinned, held or restrained. It's so hot watching a cock get hard all on its own as I'm getting abused. When I guy like that shows up, I know I have to put myself in a different mindset

Back in the olden days, I loved letting guys ride my hole any way they wanted, relatively safely. I never turned away an aggressive top. Thank god I discovered poppers because my ass was attracting a lot of thick cocks, black and white. After I got pozzed, I went sex crazy. I experienced a new freedom squeezing my hole on the juicy white poz cocks I used to avoid in the past. But then I became a 100% hungry pig top, because there were so many easy holes to fuck.

I can fuck rough and last long. I warn men of this to ensure they can handle me without pain. Most bottoms who like rough sex are submissive. But I run into the occasional power bottom who remains aggressive even while taking my pounding.

Got fucked at the bookstore last night. A young, short stocky spanish guy with a masculine laborer's belly eagerly walking around looking inside stalls rubbing his cock. He followed me into a stall as I went onto my knees , he pulled out a rock hard 7 inch cock. He's the second spanish guy that turned my head to the side while he aggressively face fucked me. Then he asked if he could fuck me. I dropped my pants and he slid his cock in. He fucked me for a good ten minutes. standing from behind, bent over with one knee on the bench him coming from behind at an angle, my upper back on the bench with him holding my legs up in the air over his shoulders and grabbing my hips, me on the bench on my side, he was rock hard the whole time and blew a thick creamy load inside me

Got hit up randomly on Sniffies about 3 weeks ago with a message from a profile who said they were 2 tops visiting and interested in using me. They were visiting from SF, I found out after we had sex. Any bottom knows this is more rare to have 2 handsome guys with nice cocks hit you up for a 3 some. Its usually the other way around. Anyhow I of course engaged and we set up a time for them to cum over. It was 10pm after the wife went to bed. I had porn playing and also had my new play room set up after months of contruction. They arrived, met them in the alley and walked them in. Both very handsmoe men 40ish and 50 ish. We stripped and got down to it. These guys had a lot bigger cocks then the pics they sent which was a pleasant surprise. They didnt do poppers but I of course hit the poppers like the pig i am. It had been a long time since I got fucked, prepped and douched, so it took me a while to get ready before they came over. By the time they arrived I was cleaned, lubed and loose from my 8" dildo. They took turns split roating me for about an hour. My ass was taking the pounding while cock was to the hilt in my throat, back and forth. I ate the younger guys ass so deep while his Daddy fucked me and encouraged me. Its was so nuts and intense when they came because they both shot thier loads in unison. I've never expereinced that but these guys were in tune! I could feel him pulsing in my ass while Daddy was flooding my throat with his semen. It tasted amazing and he had a healthy big load. The guy in my ass nutted quite a bit as well. I was leaking pretty good. The next day I was pushing out his seed for the whole afternoon. This was the best sex I've ever had...I love being a sex pig and experiencing these orgasms and encounters.

I visit a small town regularly to see my kids (they live with my ex, their mother). For a small town it’s blessed with a great ABS with a delightfully sleazy arcade with gloryholes. In my most recent visit, I stopped by the ABS hoping for a little play. As soon as I sat down in my booth, a cock came through the hole and I started sucking him off. He grew to a decent size and didn’t last long before he blew his load in my mouth. I watched some videos for a bit and soon enough a younger guy entered my booth and pulled out a beautiful, rock hard 7” - I started sucking him and we traded head a for a bit before he told me he was close - I got on my knees and opened my mouth as he stroked his load into my mouth - it was a huge load and super tasty. I sat for a bit longer, not expecting much more action when a nice 6” cock came through the hole. I started sucking him and he got really hard so I decided I wanted him in my hole. I hadn’t been expecting a fuck, so I didn’t have any lube on me so I just got as much spit on him as I could and then backed up on his cock. It took a bit of work and additional loads of spit, but I finally got him in and started rocking back and forth on his cock. We went like that for a while, with a few A2M moments for me to slick up his cock again (and taste my ass). He started pumping, so I backed hard against the wall to let him get as deep as possible as he really started pounding me. He stopped for a bit and as he pulled out, I could feel his cum dripping down my balls. it got quiet after that and I left, very pleased with my successful outing.

seeing a lot of the same sexual dynamics I love in this subject!A man should take his pleasure as he needs.

Love getting fucked rough. It's the mixture of pleasure, pain and just feeling like my purpose at that point in time is to be used. Really gets me off!

When I use to go in the arcade a lot there was way more white men but the black men were mostly bigger but always smell nice and always took charge without being mean like some whites. One Sunday afternoon I was in my corner booth with door open a little no one was there but Mr and I seen a tall black man walking holding his cock stopping to watch videos. It was the longest I ever seen I push the door open a little more and slid to my knees as he step in he smell so good and he guided his cock into my mouth I tighten my lips and he stroke me for awhile probing the top of my throat and it was heaven then his cock went right down into my throat and I didn't even gag or nothing. After awhile he came with the head of his ten inch cock at least three or four inches down in my throat. It was so good . He told me to be in the same booth every Sunday afternoon and he would give me Sunday school lessons and he did for almost a year. It is so good to have a man fuck my mouth who make me feel proud to make him happy😔

This happened in 2005, when I was still together with my long term partner. We had been drifting apart for a while, and I had started looking outside the relationship for sex and fun. I had started off playing safe, but increasingly I was fucking and being fucked without condoms and really enjoying it. I always knew, of course, that some of the guys I fucked with were likely to be positive - and if I'm honest, this was a real turn on for me. It was the not knowing that turned me on - far more than knowing that someone was negative or positive - it was the knowledge that I was going home with a load up my arse that might be a positive one! I can honestly say, however, that I had never actively chased. That is, until Nelson and Richard came to stay with us. Richard was a good friend of my partner - they had met at university and had been good friends ever since. Richard had moved to Australia for work and had met his partner, Nelson, there. They had been together for a number of years and, though I had met Richard a couple of times when he had been in the UK, i had never met Nelson. I had seen pictures of him though, and I had always thought he looked quite attractive. I had always noticed a certain reserve on the part of my partner when he was talking about Nelson, and I had the impression that he really did not like him. Richard and Nelson were spending a week with us in London as part of an extended break in Europe, and one night as we were discussing arrangements, I asked my partner why he didn't like Nelson. "It's not that I don't like him, exactly," he said "I just think he's really irresponsible." I asked him why he thought that and after a moment's silence, he told me that Richard and Nelson were both HIV positive and, whilst Richard was on meds and was always very careful, Nelson was not. Nelson rarely took his medication and, according to my partner, still fucked with other guys and did not tell them his status. He added that it was because of Nelson that Richard was positive. I wondered if Nelson had been positive when they met and had not told Richard, or if he had cheated on Richard and they both got pozzed that way, but I sensed that my partner did not want to talk about it any further so I didn't ask. Richard and Nelson arrived the following Saturday and in the evening we all went out for a meal. I got on well with them both - but, whilst Richard and my partner had many shared interests, I seemed to have more in common with Nelson. I have to admit, as well as liking him, I found him really attractive. He was very tall, dark haired and, though slim, was quite well built. I could see that he had hairy arms and I could see what looked like quite a hairy chest at the neck of his polo shirt. I also couldn't help noticing his arse, and how well it filled out his trousers. I hadn't had sex for a couple of months, and by the end of the evening I was feeling quite turned on by Nelson. I also had the feeling he was flirting with me a little, but I told myself that was probably just wishful thinking. The first thing that happened was on the Sunday afternoon. We were all going out in the evening and Nelson went for a shower. When he came out of the bathroom, he was naked, with a towel slung over his shoulder. He grinned as he passed me in the hall, and I had a perfect view of his long, thick cock hanging in front of his balls. When he passed me, I couldn't resist turning round to look at his arse. It was quite smooth and I have to say it was one of the sexiest arses I had ever seen. As I was enjoying the view of his arse, Nelson turned round and grinned at me - he knew perfectly well I had been looking at his arse and he certainly did not seem to mind! Later that day, I had a quick wank imagining that I had taken Nelson's cock in my mouth and had then bent him over to push my tongue up my arse. I came just as I was imagining Nelson pushing his big positive cock up my arse. The following evening, we were all out for a meal and some drinks and when we got home it was quite late. Richard and my partner both said they were tired and went straight to bed. Nelson said he wanted to have a shower and headed for the bathroom. I stayed up, secretly hoping for another chance to see Nelson naked and, a short term later, I got my wish! I was sitting in the living room when Nelson came out the bathroom and a short time later he was standing in front of me with a towel wrapped round him. I could see the outline of his cock through the towel, and it appeared to be at least semi hard. Nelson looked at me and I nodded. He undid the towel and let it fall to the floor and I found myself looking at one of the biggest cocks I had ever seen. It was still only semi-hard, but as I took hold of it and began to wank it, it grew into one of the biggest cocks I had ever seen. "Suck it," he whispered, and I bent forward and licked the tip of his cock, before taking it into my mouth and beginning to suck on it. I love sucking cock and I enjoyed every minute of sucking Nelson. The situation was made even hornier by the fact that both our partners were so close, and may not even be asleep yet. I sucked on Nelson's cock, licked his balls for a while and then moved back up to his cock. I sucked him for a bit longer, and then he turned round and bent over, pushing his arse into my face. I wasted no time in pulling his cheeks apart and exposing his hairy arsehole. I pushed my tongue up his hole and began to lick it as he sighed and pushed his arse hard against my face. I licked him for a while longer and then he turned round and pushed his cock into my mouth again. I could sense he was quite close now and, as I kept sucking, I suddenly remembered he was positive and I was probably about to swallow a positive load. This made me suck him all the harder, and a few minutes later he groaned quietly and I felt the head of his cock swell up and then he fired shot after shot of cum into my mouth. I swallowed every drop! After we had got our breath back, Nelson pulled is cock out of my mouth and bent over to pick up his towel. "Did that feel good?" he whispered. I nodded and he grinned and then said "It'll feel even better up your arse!" and disappeared out of the room. I was shocked at what I had done, but really turned on too. I knew that Richard and my partner were going out the following afternoon, and I would be in the house alone with Nelson. Would I let Nelson fuck me? Would I let him do it without a condom? Would he tell me he was positive before he fucked me? I wondered about all these things as I climbed into bed next to my sleeping partner and drifted off to sleep, enjoying the taste of Nelson's cum in my mouth. The following afternoon, Richard and my partner left to meet some friends. They were going to some high brow concert and were meeting a group of mutual friends for an early dinner first. Nelson got us both a drink and we chatted for a while. We got on well and I enjoyed his company - but I couldn't help being turned on by what we had done the previous evening. After a while, Nelson went through to the kitchen to get himself another drink. I was a bit nervous now - I knew I really wanted Nelson to fuck me but I wasn't sure I could go through with it - however, Nelson did not make any move and I was just beginning to think that maybe nothing was going to happen when he called to me to join him in the kitchen. When I entered the kitchen, I saw that Nelson was standing leaning against the kitchen table, naked from the waist down - his trousers and pants were lying on the floor and he was playing with his cock, which was now fully hard. He motioned to me to join him and I wasted no time. A few seconds later, I was down in front of him, sucking his cock like my life depended on it. I sucked him for a while, then licked his balls, then went back to his cock. After a while, I motioned to him to turn round and he did, bending over the table so that I could pull his cheeks apart and get my tongue up his hairy arse. I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so horny! I licked him for a while longer and then he turned round and I sucked his cock again. Then he pulled his cock out my mouth and pulled me up. He turned me round and then pulled my trousers and pants right down. "Take them off!" he said, and soon I too was naked from the waist down. Nelson bent me over the kitchen table and then pulled my cheeks apart. I felt his tongue on my hole and soon he was licking me and pushing his tongue right up me. He stood up and I felt the head of his cock pushing against my arsehole. "Do you want me to fuck you?" he asked "Yes!" I moaned "Are you sure?" he asked "Yes!" I moaned again. I reflected that if he was going to tell me about his status, he would have to do it now, but he said nothing as I felt him rub some lube onto my hole and I felt the head of his cock pushing into my arse. "Oh God!" I moaned, "Fuck me!" Nelson pushed his big cock right into my arse and I felt like I was going to be split in two. He gave me a minute to get used to his cock and then, just as I was thinking I would have to tell him to take it out because it was too big, he began to fuck me. I don't think I had ever enjoyed a fuck as much as I enjoyed this one. Nelson began slowly and then his thrusts got harder and faster. He fucked me for what seemed like ages and then pulled out, leaving me feeling empty, and motioned to me to get on my back. I laid back on the table and lifted my legs. A few seconds later, he was back up my arse. He fucked me even harder this time and I loved every minute of it. I had almost forgotten about his status, but now I remembered. The fact that he was positive and I was letting him fuck me without a condom really turned me on. I was surprised to find that the fact that he had not told me his status and was obviously intending to stealth me, turned me on even more! He was getting close now and was fucking me harder than I had ever been fucked before. I knew he was about to cum in me and I realised the one thing that would turn me on even more. "Can I ask you something?" I panted as he thrust his cock hard up my arse. "What?" he said "Are you on meds?" I asked, looking straight at him. He kept thrusting hard up my arse and grinned at me. "No!" he said. "I'm not!" "Oh Fuck!" I moaned. "You're going to give me HIV, aren't you!" "Yes" he said "I am!" "Do it" I moaned "Fucking do it - give me a baby!" Just at that moment he groaned and I could actually feel his cum pumping into my arse. As he began to breed me, I took hold of my cock and, after just one or two strokes, I shot a massive load all over myself. It seemed like neither of us would ever stop cumming - but eventually Nelson pulled his cock out of my arse and collapsed on top of me. I had never behaved like this before - but it was the best fuck ever! I enjoyed the feeling of having Nelson's dirty cum in my arse for the rest of the day - and couldn't help wondering if his cum was already doing its work inside me. Later on, shortly before the others were due back, Nelson told me to pull my pants down and bend over. I did, and he fucked me again and dumped a second load up me. Nelson and I fucked every chance we got after that - always without a condom and always with me hoping he would knock me up. About a year or so later, my partner and I split up and we divided our stuff up between us. I got the kitchen table! I still have it today and I have been fucked on it and over it quite a few times since then - but none of these fucks could ever compare to that first fuck with Nelson - the fuck I knew would change my life!

Nice 👄

This happened about a month ago, I am a freshman in college and I have heard of a few cruising spots on campus which really piqued my interest. One of them was in the Student Union bathrooms in the basement area and the other was actually the showers beside the area called the ‘Chill Spot’ that a lot of students hung out at. So one Friday afternoon, I decided to head to the basement bathrooms first, after my lecture around 4pm. I was really nervous since it was my first time cruising, but also I was excited. I sported a half-hard cock most of the day. I prepped beforehand just in case I was gonna be fucking, and wore a jockstrap underneath my sweatpants. I took the elevator down to the basement which really had a few empty classrooms, a lecture hall and the bathrooms at the end of the hall. there was basically no one there from what it could tell except for a few girls in one of the rooms talking and studying. I entered the mens washroom, and went into the middle stall. I sat down on the toilet and just went on my phone for a bit seeing if anything would happen. For a while nothing happened, until the guy in the stall to the right of me knelt down and presented his cock underneath the dividing wall into my stall. I could not believe it, it was a nice 8 inch throbbing white dick with a really cool biohazard+ tattoo just above his shaved cock. I slowly got on my knees and started stroking it slowly, gradually speeding up my pace. the guy started humping my fist which really turned me on and I heard him whisper “suck my dick”. Without thinking I wrapped my lips around his cock and started sucking his thick cock like I had been deprived of cock for months. He started moaning really quietly which got me so horny. I sucked and licked his big balls, while going back and licking his thick shaft and head. He was leaking a lot of precum and it was making a small puddle on the cold bathroom floor. I couldn't believe I was sucking a stranger's cock in my college's bathroom. Anyway I continued sucking his dick until i heard him whisper lemme fuck your ass you slut, and in the heat of the moment I whispered back, “yes daddy”. I turned around and dropped my sweatpants off. I squatted down and stuck my big ass underneath the divider. I felt his hands squeeze my ass. He whispered “goddamn baby you have such a nice ass” and slid a finger into my tight hole. I wasn't expecting that and I let out a soft moan, breaking the silence in the quiet washroom. I really hoped no one else would come in while this guy was about to fuck my ass. He started fingering me faster before I whispered “I want your cock in me daddy”. Without any hesitation I heard him spit on his throbbing cock and then I felt his head right at my wet boy hole.Ii heard him say “you want this poz dick in you?”. I wasn’t sure i heard him right, but before I could reply he slid his thick tainted cock into my ass, and I let out a moan that echoed in the washroom. He started fucking my ass with long strokes while I was on my hands and knees telling him to go faster. Within 5 minutes I couldn't take it anymore and started cumming all over the bathroom floor, and that made him shoot his cum in my ass. I quickly got up, put my pants on and left the bathroom in a haze of shame and feeling like the biggest slut on campus. I sat in my dorm room an hour later looking up what ‘poz” meant and doing image searches on bio-hazard tattoos. I slid in my butt plug to keep his load in me and jerked off twice to some really hot verbal poz videos while planning my next cruising trip on campus.

I want to so badly 💋💧

I love sucking bbc but I crave to suck the cocks of Indian or Pakistani men.

Sorry about the long pause...here goes... Im a ball of nerves as i near the end of my shift. My phone vibrates, its Big Black Dick Daddy. "When you finish work snow bunny, you come to the SureStay Hotel, I got something you been craving, and something that been craving you." I close up at work, and make my way to the SureStay and text, "I'm here, Master." Quick reply comes thru, "Room 216, get that sissy ass up here baby." I nervously get out of the car as this place is not in the best part of town and look up to the second floor and see a room with several Black men outside, that must be it. I make my way up the stairs and immediately am hit with catcalls and whistles. As I approach the door one of the Black men reaches down inside the back of my shorts and sticks his finger right up my hole, deep and I immediately feel the burn. He laughs as he pulls out his digit with a wet pop and says, "wait till that kick in and I come serve you this nigga dick, you gonna forget that Daddy and have you a Pimp, sissy," as he shakes what appears to be an enormous dick at me in his pants. The other men chuckle and open the door and usher me in. Inside the room are several more Black Kings. The whole place smells musty and sweet, intoxicating. Black man sweat permeates my nostrils and the burning in my ass has transformed into a deep hunger. All these men are in several states of dress, or rather undress, and that's when I see Daddy. He says, "Welcome to the party, snow bunny. You'll notice there are no bottoms here, as you're the guest of honor. The main attraction if you will. Now I've tasted that sweet ass, so now, it's time my crew gets in on that." He smacks my ass hard, swiping my shorts down with the slap. I don't reach for them, I just stand exposed waiting for what's next. Suddenly I'm surrounded by 5 of the biggest dicks I've ever seen. One man lifts me up in his arms while another starts eating my hole. Another puts a loaded pipe to my mouth and clicks a torch and I inhale. So much white smoke is coming through I can barely hold it in, it's so thick it's nearly yellow. When I pull off the pipe, another man, grabs and covers my mouth while holding my nose. "Hold it in til I say so, faggot!" My head is spinning. I need to exhale and breathe so I start to fight but am under his tight grip. Another man comes up and pulls out my arm, ia feel a cold wetness in the crook of my elbow and finally the man with the death grip on my face let's go and says, "Alright bitch, you can breathe now." Suddenly there's a familiar poke in my arm and all of a sudden, my body is ablaze. Just as the heat hits my hole which I can feel quivering open, I'm lowered onto a dick, and pushed all the way down to the base. I can feel this man's tight curlies as I bottom out gasping for air. This was a big slam, bigger than Ive ever done before. And finally my voice hits my ears and its screaming, "I love nigger dick. Fuck me with your nigger dicks. All of you. Fuck me til I die. I need all the nigger dicks inside me now!" And then I focus and the man with his dick rooted in me becomes familiar. It's the man from outside. He says, "How you like that 14 inches of nigger dick you got inside you now, hoe? This pimp dick is gonna change you for life. Yo Daddy ain't yo daddy no more. He done sold your pussy to me, you mine now bitch!" He flexes his monster inside me and all I can do is shiver and think, more, I need more.

no, I completely disagree with your statement that we can hide being gay. as a gay man I have the cracked bones and black eyes and anxiety disorders not from complete stranger picking me out at a distance but from my own father who terrorized me most of my childhood to the day I left for university bedistant being disgusting faggot was apparent to him. so no I don't agree that we can just hide. it is that assumption that gets perpetuated day after day after day and I'm sick of hearing it. every gay kid that went to school and was taunted by bullies knows that you can't pretend or hide. to have another to say that and continue that false view and try and convince everyone else of that truth is as complicit in my black eye as the nextdoor neighbor that wouldn't call the police on my father when asked. to have people who call you their best friend one day and then because they want to be cool and part of the in crowd suddenly start bullying you is not something any child should have happen ... and this wasn't some 5 year old but a high school aged person youve known your entire childhood. hate is everywhere and it easy to incite and hard to change but needs to be called out in all its forms. do racial minorities have these challenges ... most certainly they do and that not what I'm saying - the power systems of all the political flavors are partsaying my fond of using race to point out the superiority of one race over another its the lowest hanging fruit, genders next and then it the gays ... but when I say low hanging fruit I'm not talking apples ... I'm talking the tomatoes grown in a waist high steel cage ... and there are rows and rows and rows of us being plucked. no one is immune just because of the colour of their skin. all people around the globe are just as likely to be the other in one area and in the position of power in another. we are all fodder for hate because we are all visible. the sooner we see the the better it will be to making the reforms we neare ultimately work for everyone regardless of who or what they ar. the "isms" of our character only need 3 things to take root: a power differential between the us and the thems with systems in place to exert the control, people willing to look the other way and do nothing even in the face of the inhumanity and economic/moral or social disparity/insecurity so that those in power have concrete reasons to set us others apart. i am disgusted by what I see and hear and it makes me fearful of our chances to set things right. each and everyone of us sees their complicity in the racial unrest gripping our lives. black do it to each other, whites do it as well to other whites and yes most certainly whites do it blacks - its easy to do because we are all others to everyone and those in power have rigged the systems to make the control ethier to achieve when the others do it to themselves and its people like trump who know exactly wha they system needs to keep us all at each other's throats... the middle class is shrinking and the rich are richesystem more than ever ... here in the West its the billionaires and trillionaires that make sure that the poor population grows, we all know who they are ... how many are frightened old men hunkered down in their bunkers or mansions, what's the racial, gender, religious and sexual orientation breakdown of these old white str8 men? ... In Asia? in Africa? in Latin America? exactly the same but just different ... its about control and keeping it and all we have to do is do nothing except point and say my pain is worse than yours ... those in power get to change rules or playing fiplaying an economic circumstance here and there and that crisis they saw coming suddenly is now crisis for all the rest of us.

No sorry, as an actual black male race play is NOT a turn-on. Kinda like the bareback porn thread awhile back asking why is it that black men are always portrayed as HIV Mandingos who always have to top. Yes there are black men who sexualize trauma like the constant stress blacks have of being construed as different, depraved and dangerous. Such trauma is a literal punch in the gut. Imagine dealing with this multiple times a day over decades. There are plenty of non-black men who exploit this sexualization for their own benefit. (“Oh it’s just harmless play.”) I am not some bleeding heart or a victim, but a black man who simply wants to be perceived as a human. Not a Mandingo. Not a nigger. Not merely a BBC. Stop it, it’s offensive. But as our recent global troubles have shown, no one gives a damn about anybody if they can make a buck or bust a nut. So I look forward to further race-splaining by those who say it’s mere fun or “live and let live” but don’t know what it feels like to actually be black.