Heir2012

Part 8 Senator Gregory White (2013) “We can’t continue allowing people like this to influence the younger generation,” I said, staring down the reporter. She was smiling at me, her eyes focused on mine when she wasn’t looking me over. She had large eyes, expressive. I was wondering what I could get them to express if given the chance. “Elaborate,” she said, emphasizing her lips as she spoke, almost pouting. It’s as if she was trying to make me imagine what her lips would feel like on mine. Though, that’s not where I’d want her lips to go. “The people of Virginia don’t want their children to be interacting with people who are, forgive the word, predators.” “Are you saying that you believe members of the LGBTQIA+ community, specifically gay men, to be predators, Senator White?” “I believe that there are individuals my voters are afraid of having around their children,” I explained. “There are dangers my constituents are aware of when it comes to the gay community, and I’m here to make sure your viewers are made to understand this.” “And you stand by these opinions even though you’re receiving significant backlash.” “I’m a strong man,” I told her, smirking. “I’m not easily knocked down just because someone pushes back. I’m working to get our society back to normal.” “And by that you mean the whole husband and wife scenario? Having 2.5 kids, the white fence, the perfect house with the front yard?” “I mean having what America has always seen as being suitable,” I told her. “And by that, you mean normal?” “For the lack of a better word.” “You aren’t married, though, are you Senator White?” she asked. “Not as of yet,” I said, smiling. Knowing the camera was only focused on my face, I reached my hand down to my crotch and gently rubbed over my growing bulge, making sure the reporter would see. “I’m too busy making sure I’m able to act as the voice of the people, but I always make sure to make time for what is important.” “And with that,” she said, “I thank you, Senator White, for giving us your time. Until tomorrow night, I am Jessica Latmore. Goodnight.” “And we’re clear,” a voice on the other side of the bright lights said. I could hear commotion around us as Jessica handed off her tablet to an assistant. “That went well,” I said. “If you say so, Senator.” “I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure about you interviewing me instead of Chester Reeves, but you managed to do well enough.” She stared at me, a brow raised. “Did I? Well, I’m so glad you think so.” “Don’t worry that you’re not as quick on your feet as Chester. You’ll get there over time. I’ll remind you, interviewing political figures like myself isn’t always easy.” “And I would like to remind you,” she said, her tone shifting, “that you were the one who brought up the gay community, not me.” “Why say that?” “So that when your team starts telling you that your numbers are dropping and you’re getting a ton more hate-mail than usual, you can’t blame me for making you say anything you didn’t want to say. You did that all on your own.” “I just tell it like it is,” I told her, moving forward in my seat, my bulge hanging over the edge, more pronounced. I could see her eyes looking down at it, analyzing. “I find people like that about me. Don’t you?” “As a matter of fact,” she said, “my girlfriend and I don’t care for you at all.” She stood up and walked off the set, leaving me sitting alone as the lights were dimmed. __ “I don’t want that bitch ever interviewing me again, do you understand?” “I understand,” my assistant said, typing on his tablet. We sat in a black SUV, heading to my apartment. My face felt warm, my pulse quick, as my anger after the interview had failed to diminish. After leaving the set, I went back to the dressing room they had given me, threw a dish of peanuts at the wall, turned over the coffee table, and stormed out with my assistant running after me. “It’s unprofessional the way she talked to me,” I shouted, kicking the seat in front of me. “And who the fuck has a dyke interview a Republican Senator? What the fuck? I mean, you don’t send a vegan to interview about a barbeque competition.” “I’ll speak to someone about it, sir.” “You better,” I spat. “This is the kind of shit that gets people fired. Understand?” I leaned back in my seat, my hand moving down to my crotch which had long ago gone flaccid. There was a slight pain in my balls which was driving me insane. The reporter had knowingly gotten me hard just so that I’d be stuck here with blue balls. At the same time, the pain was radiating down to my asshole, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body. Every time the driver hit a manhole, I felt my manhole tighten and my body shiver from the sensation. Fuck, not again. Why did this happen every time an interview went to hell? “What do I have tomorrow?” “You have a meeting with—” “Cancel it.” “But, sir—” “I said, fucking cancel it. I need the rest of the night off, and I don’t want you disturbing me until Thursday. Is that understood?” “Yes, sir.” “Good.” The car pulled up to my apartment and I got out before my assistant could fuck anything else up for me. I’d fire him soon. I only hired him because I fucked his wife and felt guilty about it. That guilt didn’t last long, but I hadn’t found the time to fire him just yet. The fiasco with the lesbian reporter would do the trick. I’m sure it’ll be easy to make it his fault. “Good evening, Senator White,” the residential concierge said. I nodded to him. I knew his name once, but I couldn’t remember it now as I stormed through the lobby and entered the elevator. They seemed to switch men every few months, and I had enough trouble remembering the names of the people who worked for me. I closed my eyes as the elevator rose, trying to calm myself, suddenly seeing before me the reporter’s full lips. I couldn’t believe someone as hot as the reporter would rather eat out a pussy than suck a dick. Then again, the idea of the reporter having her head squeezed between the tight thighs of another woman did get me hard again. My hand reached down and started massaging my bulge, my fingers moving down further to my balls. Fuck. I could still feel the throbbing ache in my ass, the ache which arose only once in a while, especially as things went to hell. During every election period, I found this ache revealing itself again, almost taking control. Normally, I could fuck my way through the ache, let my cock manage the burning which flooded my body, but, every once in a while, there was only one thing I could do to satisfy this… desire. “This is Charles the concierge,” the voice said over my phone. That’s right. His name is Charles. “Yeah, Charles, this is Senator White in 8D.” I entered my apartment, locking the door. “I’m calling just to let you know that I’ll be having some visitors tonight. They work for my campaign, but they’ll need to be let in through the building’s private access. They’ll be coming up through the secondary elevator. Discretion will be key.” “Of course, sir,” Charles said. I turned off my phone and entered my bedroom where I stashed my one phone in a locked desk drawer. From it, I removed another phone, entered a code, and searched through my contacts. The ache was growing stronger, causing me to scroll through my information with one hand while my other hand ran over my clothed body, feeling my hardening cock, my swelling balls, and my nipples which were visible through my dress shirt. I found the contact and hit send. “Pidyn Corp,” a voice said. “May I have your identification number?” “382533,” I said. There was a pause before the voice said, “Welcome, platinum member. How may I help you?” “I need my third listing provided for tonight,” I said, pouring myself a glass of whiskey which I shot back. “I need them here within the next hour. Standard protocols are to be followed.” “Of course, sir,” the voice said. “We’ll charge accordingly. Anything else I can do?” “Yeah, make that thirty minutes.” I ended the call and shot back more whiskey, allowing the burning in my throat to course throughout my body. Everything inside me was screaming to be released, the hibernating animal that I kept hidden clawing its way out. Fuck, I needed this. I needed everything. I paced throughout my apartment as I waited, turning on the television to calm myself. “Reports are showing Senator White’s approval rating is starting to fall since his hateful comments concerning the LGBT community have grown more frequent,” the news anchor said, my face smiling in the picture next to him. “While many Virginian voters do support the conservative politician’s stance on the economic crisis, his comments concerning sexual identity have been found to be critical and out of touch with the current political climate.” I hit the mute button, watching as the reporter kept speaking, watching his lips as they moved, admiring them as they puckered to say the “wh” in White. They were even better lips than the reporter from earlier, and I found the aching inside me pulse from the mere sight of him. There was a ping from the phone I had used to call the service, alerting me that my “delivery” had arrived and was on its way up. I finished another drink and went to my door, reaching it as a knocking filled the apartment. Fuck, could they be any louder? I opened the door to find two men standing before me, both in suits, both looking as if they were men who, like me, worked in an office or in a position of actual power. They looked like the men I encountered every day, the men who held power, who thrived on imposing their wills on others. “May we come in, sir?” the one man asked. “We have a delivery for you.” “What is it?” I asked, waiting for the response I’d decided upon within this scenario. “It’s the Apollo Package, sir,” the one man said, slightly puffing out his chest. “It’s urgent that we make this delivery in private.” “Of course,” I said, satisfied. I stepped to the side and let them pass, admiring them as they went by. This service had sent over all types of men for me in the past, ranging in fitness levels, height, hairiness, and even accents. These two men I found to be the sexiest men I’d ever been sent. Both were taller than I was, with broad shoulders and, from what I could see, fit bodies that filled out their suits nicely. Impressive bulges were noticeable in their pants, one more than the other. The man with the larger bulge held a briefcase in his hand, and I admired the veins I could see under the skin, running down to larger, strong fingers that gripped the handle tightly. My cock jumped at the sight of him. “You have everything needed?” I asked, eyes on the briefcase. “We have everything you’ll need tonight,” the one man said. “We’re sure of it, sir.” Both men exchanged looks, smiling. “What are your names?” I asked. “Well, Senator White,” the one man said, “To keep with your identity, I am Mr. Gray, and he is Mr. Green.” “No,” I interjected. “I’m not looking for the fake, fucking names they give you to sound exotic and shit. What are your actual names.” Both men exchanged glances, smiling. “I’m Matt,” the one man said. “This is Hunter.” Hunter, the man holding the briefcase, was staring at me, a slight smile turning his lips. I loved the way he was looking at me, a look I’d given the bitch reporter before she blew her chances. I could see that he wanted me, and my hardening bulge proved I wanted them both, but especially him. “You’re both experienced in what I require?” I asked them. “Along with the required discretion?” “We’ve been briefed, sir,” Matt said, “concerning your desired… debriefing.” “Good,” I said. “Well, let’s get started.” Hunter nodded and opened the briefcase.

Number 2, but sometimes number 1 and 3. For me, I find the orgasm can be ruined if I stop pumping as I'm cumming.

I hope whoever the other candidate is finds someone just as twisted (or even more so) than Sir Doug. Maybe that Master gets them together to do something REALLY twisted.

I'm interested, but does it ACTUALLY work? I'd want to get my foreskin back because it does add sensations you don't get without it, but this wouldn't manage something like that, right?

I've hit some MAJOR writer's block as of late. Originally, Kansas man was meant to be a paragraph long, but I found myself excited to ruin his life in depth. I feel like I keep getting more and more explicit in what men like Hunter are doing, showing how "evil" he really is. I just don't want to go too far and get the story blocked or something.

Part 7 Hunter: July 2013 My tattoo looked darker on my skin than before. I knew it was probably a trick of the light or just my imagination, but I still took notice. It almost seemed as if it was coming back darker each time. The points of the biohazard symbol looked sharper, deadlier, as if they were the tails of scorpions ready to strike. Normally, while the idea of my tattoo striking fear could get me off, it was creating some panic. Soon, it would take even longer for the symbol to fade, meaning there was more of a risk of my prey seeing the mark before I claimed them. The last slut I had marked for the purpose of removing my tattoo was three years ago, and I estimated that he had “relinquished” a considerable amount of his “time” to me, but my tattoo still showed up earlier than I anticipated. I considered going to a poz-friendly club where men would beg me to infect them and their lives, but it just didn’t work the same. I was finding that men who wanted my strain, even if they didn’t know just how special it was, barely gave me any time. It only worked on men who were ignorant of my intentions, making the sacrifice even more powerful. I had decided to travel that summer, spreading my cum wherever I could, hoping to gain some time and to amass a few followers to my cause. I still felt the time my previous fucks were collecting for me, their work on my behalf giving me some time, but it was nothing like the strength I gained when I fucked a man myself. While it wasn’t normally hard for me to get men to fuck, my hairy, tall, sexy body a weakness for anyone I met, I found myself struggling as all I could think about was my tattoo. I had always known that sooner or later the time I took wouldn’t equate to the time I could use, but it seemed as if the years I took were no longer feeling like years. They weren’t even months at times. They felt like days depending on the guy, meaning what I took was practically useless, making the result of the fuck bad for me… though not as bad as it would eventually be for him. The last guy I fucked, as I journeyed across the country, was from Kansas. He was a married farmer who was closeted, out at a gay bar two towns over from where he lived with his wife and four kids (three daughters and a son). I hadn’t even entered the bar with the purpose of fucking anyone, but I’m not the kind of man who turns down an easy fuck when it should happen to cross my path. I am a hunter after all. I saw him with his baseball cap pulled down over his face, trying to hide in case someone noticed and recognized him. Seeing that fear, I pounced. I think he said his name was Craig or Collin or something. I wasn’t listening as he spoke; I was just looking him over, admiring the strong body he had created from years of hard, manual labor. I was feeling good about the time I’d get from him, hoping his hard work had created an expected long life. I felt in him a desperation, a desire to try something he knew was wrong but couldn’t say “no” to. Even with my game being off, it took little effort for him to become mine. I smiled at him, told him how much I loved guys with rough hands like his and weathered faces, and I then ran my hand over his ass, feeling the muscle beneath. “I can’t wait to get inside this,” I whispered to him, running my hands over his ass. “Well, I…” he started, his face growing red. “I’ve never… you know… been with a guy like that.” “Never?” I asked, unable to care. He shook his head. “I’ve only ever been with my wife.” “Don’t worry,” I told him, getting my body closer to his, allowing the heat between us to fuel the fire he already had burning inside him. “I’ll be gentle.” He didn’t want to go to a motel because all he had was his credit card, and his wife took care of the bills. I told him I was tapped out, but I also had no intention of paying for a room to fuck his life away. Instead, we went to his truck, drove out to an empty field, threw down a blanket his wife had made him in the truck’s bed, and I fucked his virgin ass as if he was a cumdump. “You said you’d go slow,” he moaned, his arms shaking as he tried to remain on all fours, his naked body shaking slightly in the breezy summer air. “I am,” I told him, grabbing his shoulders. “You just need to relax.” Turns out he was a screamer, and going out to a field had been a good idea as he cried out each time I rammed my enormous cock into his hole. I was pretty sure he was bleeding from the force behind each thrust. Still, even with the pain, my constant pounding on his prostate was sending him into a wild state. Since it was dark, I removed my shirt, unafraid that he would see my tattoo. Besides, he wanted my cock so badly now, I doubt he would have run away even if he had seen it. “How’s that feel?” I asked, not really caring what he would say. “Fucking incredible,” he cried. “Best fuck I’ve ever had.” Little did he know that this would be the start of the twisted sex he’d become addicted to for the rest of his shortened life. If he stayed here once I was done with him, there would only be a limited amount of men available to him. There was the possibility that he'd fuck every guy in the county, meaning I'd own every man and their time. Fuck, that got me hard. “Holy fuck,” he said, gasping for breath, “my dick is leaking so much cum!” “About time,” I said, our heartbeats only a moment away from syncing. “I guess I’ll have to wash the blanket before my wife sees it.” He laughed and moaned, my pace quickening, the time nearly there. “Don’t want her asking any questions, you know.” “I don’t think you’ll care,” I told him, shoving my dick as hard as I could into his married hole, our heartbeats finally synced. He threw his head back, eyes staring up at the stars, vacant of any sign of the man who had been concerned over his wife’s cum-covered blanket. “Who do you belong to?” I growled, our heartbeat quickening, my desire to shoot my load, claim his years, and fuck off pushing my pace. “You,” he said. “Does your dick belong to your wife?” “No.” “Does it belong to you?” “No.” “Who does your dick belong to?” “You.” “And whose toxic cum is churning now inside your balls?” “Your cum.” “And who won’t be having any more brats running around after this?” “I won’t.” “And whose life am I taking in replace of gifting you with my potent cum?” The man’s eyes looked down and focused on a picture hanging from the rearview mirror, that of his kids and his wife. “My life,” he said. “Then fucking give it to me you cheating piece of shit.” I grabbed his throat and turned his head back up to the sky, taking in the void of the night and the void which would become his existence. In that moment, I saw him watching his kids grow up, graduating from school and leaving their home. I saw him walking each of his daughters down the aisles of their weddings while handing over his farm to his son who would grow up to be just as strong as him. I saw him growing old with his wife, admiring the life they had made and the love they shared. I saw him reflecting on his life and how he had remained true to his wife, never cheating or faltering in his love for her. I saw it all… and then I saw it all disappear into the black sky. Now, he’d lose his family and his farm, spending the rest of his life selling his body at bars just like the one I found him at. He’d use the money to buy alcohol to numb some of the pain of losing his life so that I could gain a few extra days of mine. I came extra hard seeing the smiling faces of his daughters at their weddings, watching as they faded and I could feel within this married man the pain of losing these moments because of one careless night with a stranger. I felt his heart breaking, knowing he’d never hand over his farm to his son, instead becoming someone his son will be ashamed of. I saw his wife leaving him, seeing someone she hardly knew, knowing he had broken their wedding vows. Everything he was losing was getting me off, and I loved how horny it made me feel knowing I was the reason he was losing it all. My dick was fucking this man's life up. He collapsed on the blanket, his body shuddering from his changing balls which were now transforming themselves into mirror copies of my own. I cleaned my dick off on the blanket, leaving the man passed out in the truck’s bed. I drove it back to the bar to get my car, leaving him exposed naked and covered in cum. I took the photo of his family from off the rearview mirror and drenched it in the puddle of cum I had fucked out of him, the same cum which had made his four children. “This is what you gave up,” I told his unconscious body, sticking the photograph to his forehead so the first thing he’d see when he woke up would be the cum-covered photo of the family he betrayed and now lost. “And all of it so you could shoot out one last worthless load.” On his ass I could see his own biohazard tattoo vibrant on his skin. It looked good on him. As I drove away, I thought of him maybe one day filming himself and posting it online, using his old job as a farmer as a fetish category. People loved seeing rugged farmers fucking other men. It’s like they were acting opposite to what they were meant to do in Middle America. Fuck it. If you want to fuck a dick, you should fuck a fucking dick, especially if it’s mine. I reached Virginia where a friend of mine, Matt, lived, a fellow breeder with the same abilities as mine. Matt was a bottom who used the negative cum of men to fuel his youth. Since we couldn’t steal time from each other, we’d spend hours fucking whenever we got together. That, or we’d play a little game of wishbone and see who would end up the winner. We’d find a guy and make him our Lucky Pierre. Neither Matt or I would know who would be claiming the guy until the end and one of our hearts synced with the man. It was a fun game, and neither of us got upset if we weren’t the one to win. We still got to fuck. We’d do this a few times when we were together, and I was sure we’d be doing it as soon as I arrived. “You’re looking good,” he told me, welcoming me into his apartment. Matt was naked, as he usually was, showing off his strong, lean body. Matt was hairless and sported a thin waist. His cock, though not as big as mine, was still decent and could shoot buckets worth of cum across the room. His tattoo was on the back of his neck, meaning he could hide it if he fucked missionary or cowboy. From what I could see, his tattoo was nearly gone. “I’ve been better,” I told him, looking at my own tattoo which had faded somewhat since Kansas. It wasn’t nearly as much as I would have hoped “I think we’ll be able to find someone for you while you’re here,” he said. “Multiple,” I said. “My last didn’t do as much damage as I’d expected.” “Who was he?” “Married farmer,” I told him. “Wife and four kids.” “Sounds hot.” “I fucked him on his wife’s blanket in the bed of his truck in a field.” “What did you see?” “His daughters getting married; his son inheriting his farm; him and his wife growing old together.” “Fuck,” Matt said, his dick getting hard. “That’s better than my last one. I thought he had been a score, but it turns out he was a loner with hardly any connections. Sure, I got some good time out of him, but it felt like nothing. I barely blew a load.” “I came hard,” I told him. “Still, it wasn’t enough.” “Speaking of which,” Matt said, still sporting a semi, “seeing as it is tradition, I think I’ve found someone for our usual wishboning.” “It better not be some twink again,” I told him. “I know you love them, but they barely get me hard.” “He’s much better than a twink,” Matt said, smiling. “He’ll be one for the record books.”

There have been studies showing a connection when it comes to fingers, though it isn't an absolute. Not so much with big hands. They say it's a ratio thing... "First it was your feet, then it was your nose, now it's your index finger? According to a 2011 study, the length of your index finger could be a solid predictor of penis size. According to the Asian Journal of Andrology, having a shorter index finger compared to your ring finger could mean you have a bigger penis. This is known as the second to fourth digit ratio, or the 2D-4D ration, explains Dr. Karan Raj, a surgeon with National Health Service in the UK and a popular medical TikToker with over 4.4 million followers." This is from Men's Health. Still, there will be guys with big hands and small dicks and guys with small hands and big dicks. Sometimes, there is no way of knowing until you've got his pants down and his cock hard.

This video is one I come (cum) back to over and over again. Without the suit, it would be hot, but with the suit, it's even better. Connected with what the guy says in the video, imagine a ton of guys from Mad Men fucking each other or cruising. Incredible. [think before following links] https://xhamster.com/videos/he-shows-us-his-new-suits-and-he-like-to-jerk-off-8773657

The first picture I'm almost 100% sure is of a father and son because they do look alike. I'm torn with the second picture. I've seen the video, and while they do banter as if they know each other, they don't look anything alike. Does anyone know about the "father and son" in the second picture? Are they actually related?

I'm curious if anyone else has a suit and tie fetish. I love seeing pictures of men in suits. Part of it is the professionalism of how they're dressed, creating the idea that they are important men holding power. Another part of it is the mystery of what is beneath the suit. Suits often don't give much away, but a tailored suit hugs a man's body the right way. When they start to strip it all off, opening the dress pants and pulling out their swelling cocks, I'm in awe. I love seeing their white dress shirts opening, revealing hair chests beneath. I don't care if they're in their offices or if they're at a wedding, I just love seeing hot men in suits. Even a tie is hot, especially after the man has started to strip down, leaving nothing but the tie. If he's getting fucked, the other man can use it almost like a leash, pulling back on it to assert dominance. Even if the man is still fully dressed, seeing a tie covered in cum is incredibly sexy. Seeing a suit covered in cum is sexy. Suits aren't cheap, and if a man cums on your suit, he's really marking you. Does anyone else have this fetish? Where and when did this fetish come about for you? Does anyone have any pictures of hot men in suits that they'd like to share? Videos?

I'm not exactly a cocksucker in the sense you're probably thinking, but I will throw a comment into the mix. A 5 1/2 to 6 inch cock is technically the average cock size of men, though it does vary according to country. I'm only mentioning this to help guys who struggle with size envy or size anxiety. Now, moving beyond that, from what I know from friends who consider themselves veracious cocksuckers, they like a cock between 7-9 inches. Every guy is different though with what he can handle. Watch any porn video you want to see that.

Part 38: Peter Puts a Ring on It (Will's Perspective) “What the fuck!” I moaned, grabbing Dom’s wrist to stop him. “Too much?” he asked. I was straddling Dom, his engorged cock in my ass, pressing into my prostate, as he slid a sounding rod into my urethra. For weeks he had been trying to convince me to try sounding, something which looked hot in porn but had petrified me in real life. Dom had found me jerking off to porn several times in which a man was strapped down on a table, unable to move, as another man slid the rod deep into the penis, causing the man to scream out in pleasure. Or, at least, that’s what I believed… “You’ve come this far,” he had told me days ago when he had shown me the tools he had borrowed from a friend. “Why not go a bit further?” Sure, I had allowed a poz man to fuck me and infect my body. Sure, we dabbled with watersports and I had grown in my appreciation for tasting his morning golden showers, though not as much as Pastor Kline who drank it all down. Yes, I had fucked my brother and my new doctor, helped two men in my church cheat on their wives, helped one of them fuck his student while the other fucked his son, and, all the while, I managed to keep it all a secret. But the idea of shoving a piece of metal into my cock made my skin crawl now that I was given the chance to try it. Still, he had convinced me. “It fucking burns,” I told him, feeling my cock pushing the rod out even as Dom’s hand tried to push it deeper in. “It’s going to burn,” he said. “Then you shove it in your own dick,” I told him, knocking his hand away and pulling the rod out of my cock. “Fuck. How does anyone find this enjoyable?” Dom took the metal rod and licked it where it had, only moments ago, been deep inside my urethra. “It looked hot.” “Then get either Peter or Pastor Kline addicted to it, because I don’t think I’ll ever be doing that again.” “How about a catheter?” “Only if I’m eighty.” Dom ran his hands over my body, squeezing my nipples as I rode his cock, impaling myself on his huge member. “Fuck, I’ve missed fucking you,” he said. “You fucked me last night,” I reminded him. “You were fucking Peter while I fucked you from behind,” Dom corrected. “I mean just the two of us.” “Without metal shoved up my cock,” I countered, my breath momentarily fucked out of my body as Dom slammed his dick against my prostate. “Peter’s getting his tattoo tomorrow,” Dom said, his breathing strained as I caused the bed to slam against the wall. “And he’s got another little surprise.” “What surprise?” I asked, pumping my cock with one hand while I reached back and grabbed Dom’s balls, squeezing them tight. “I’m not allowed to say,” he told me. “He wants you, Dr. Wade, and Pastor Kline to be there. That’s all I’m allowed to say.” “I’ll shove that rod back in my dick if you’ll tell me,” I teased, squeezing his balls even tighter. Dom growled, his own grip on my nipples tightening, causing a gasp from me. “I’ll get that rod back in your cock someday,” he said, smiling. “Just you wait and see.” __ I’d come in early with Dom to the tattoo parlor, wanting to make sure I was there for when Peter got his biohazard tattoo. I didn’t know where he was getting it or what the extra surprise was, but I wanted to be there for the whole journey. It had turned into a guessing game amongst us all, wondering where the tattoo would go and what Peter had waiting for us. Each of us took turns either fucking Peter or getting fucked by him, hoping, during the moment of orgasm, we’d be able to extract the secret along with his fountain of toxic jizz. “We’re still early,” Dom said, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me into his body, kissing my neck and sending chills down my spine. “Do you want another tattoo while we wait?” “Any suggestions?” I asked. “We can start in on your own tally marks,” he said, running his palm along my arm. “No,” I told him, grabbing his arm and running my fingers along the marks showing every man he had managed to poz. “Any man I poz isn’t just mine,” I said. “I wouldn’t be here without you. My gift is from you. If anyone deserves those marks, it’s you.” Dom and I stared at his arm, admiring the tattoos which adorned his body. “But I don’t want any tally mark after yours,” he said, pressing his thumb against his fiftieth mark. My mark. “You’re my final conquest, so to speak.” “Why?” I asked, turning to face him, staring into the eyes that had once haunted me, which had, and still did, frighten me when I saw his animalistic desire start to surface. He was the most gorgeous man I had ever met, and all I wanted to do was stare at the face of the man who had changed me. “Is it because you managed to take an innocent, straight pastor and turn him into a deviant, gay, poz fucker?” “No,” he said, smiling down at me. “It’s because every one of these men was someone to fuck and leave behind. They were all men who I wanted for their holes, to fuck up their lives, and to move on from. That’s who they all were.” “Even Dr. Wade?” “Every poz man needs a good doctor,” he laughed. “With you, when I met you, I saw a man living a lie. I knew there was a darkness hiding in you, and that’s all I wanted to find. I wanted to fuck you, to poz you, and then watch as I turned a good, religious man into a perverted fucker.” “Which you did,” I said, moving my hand down to his crotch, feeling his cock slithering down his pants leg. “You’re more than that,” he said. “I’ve never met a man I didn’t want to leave behind. There were so many times I tried to convince myself to walk away, to step back and let you be nothing more than a tally mark on my arm, but I couldn’t do it. I don’t want to do it.” I stared at him, looking beyond the tough exterior and the man I knew to be a toxic fucker, and I found myself staring into the eyes of someone who truly meant what he was saying. He wasn’t saying this to get me off or himself. This wasn’t a cheesy line from porn. He was telling the truth. My hand fell from his crotch and rested on his leg. “I love you,” he said, his voice low, quiet. I found myself drawn to him, pulled into his body, needing to be closer to him than ever before. I moved up and kissed him, trying to tangle us together so tightly that no one could separate us. “Am I interrupting?” Dom and I broke our kiss, finding Peter standing a few feet away. “Sorry,” I said, taking a step back, giving Dom and me the space to collect ourselves. “I’m good for a show before the main event,” Peter said, already stripping his shirt off. “Anything with you two is ideal for me.” “While I’m sure Will and I would love to entertain you,” Dom said, winking at me, “We better get your tattoo started so we’re ready for when everyone else shows up.” “Where are you getting your tattoo?” I asked, following them back to the space Dom had set aside for special clients. “Well, I’ve gone back and forth on that,” Peter said, now down to only his underwear. “Not wanting my wife to see it limited my choices, but now, I could have it tattooed on my face if I fucking wanted.” “Don’t,” Dom and I both said. “Not to worry,” Peter said, taking off his underwear which he flung at my face, managing to get the pouch right over my nose. His underwear was always covered in cum stains. “I want any man who I fuck or who fucks me to know the type of man I truly am. So, taking inspiration,” he motioned to Dom,” I want my tattoo right above my cock.” “Good choice,” Dom said, opening draws and pulling out a can of shaving cream and a razor. “Shave off your pubes, and we’ll get started.” “I’ve never been more excited to shave in my entire life,” Peter said, taking the can and razor and running off to the bathroom. I watched as Dom started getting things ready, admiring his hands, remembering how he had just held me moments ago, how his hands had touched every inch of my body, how his hands had tattooed my own biohazard symbol on my chest months before, how his hands had guided me the first time I had ever been intimate with another person, and how his hand had reached out to shake my own the day we had met. “I love you, too,” I said. Dom stopped, looked back at me, and smiled. I kept close to Dom’s side throughout Peter’s ceremony of being marked a poz man. The tattoo looked great on his pelvis, drawing the eye down to his gifted cock. I held Peter’s hand as he tried not to scream the closer the tattoo gun got to his dick. After several hours, the tattoo was done and bandaged. “I have no fucking idea how you’ve managed to get so many,” Peter said to Dom, still on the table naked, his sweaty body recovering. “I wouldn’t want to get any more tally marks if I were you.” “Don’t worry,” Dom said, looking at me. “I won’t be.” “Has the show started?” Dr. Wade called, entering back with Pastor Kline, Lewis, and Jay behind him. “You’re just in time,” Peter said. “I didn’t know you were coming,” I told Jay, hugging him. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said. “I was there when this guy got the idea of leaving his wife fucked into him.” “And what a fuck it was,” Peter said. “How are you, Lewis?” “I’m good,” Lewis said. “Anyone start questioning you about me, yet?” Lewis nodded. “No one knows, but I’m going crazy not being able to get fucked right now.” “The safer the better,” I reminded him. “You’ve gone this long without a cock in you. Imagine what it was like for me.” “We fixed that issue real quick,” Dom said to Lewis. “I’ll get my cock inside your tight hole real soon. Don’t worry.” “Calm your raging boner down,” I told Dom. “Lewis, if you convert and your parents find out, your dad will kill all of us.” “Or want to become like us,” Peter said. “Fuck, your dad is hot.” “Not everyone’s dad is like Pastor Kline. Not everyone secretly wants to get fucked by a poz man,” I told him, noticing a strange look pass over Pastor Kline’s face. “While I’m always happy to meet with a group of sexy men,” Dr. Wade said, eyeing up Lewis, “May I ask why we’re all here? It’s not to witness you leaving with your new tattoo, right?” “It’s not that,” Peter said, smiling. “All of you have been a part of my journey into becoming the man I am today, and I wanted you to be here for what I consider the turning point of my life.” “Your turning point wasn’t you leaving your wife?” Jay asked. “That was the start,” Peter said. “Or when we seduced you in Will’s office?” Pastor Kline added. “Or when we fucked at the school?” Lewis finished. “With this tattoo,” Peter emphasized, “I’m permanently marking myself as the man I’ve always wanted to be. But, I didn’t just want to get a tattoo. I wanted to do something more than that, something… twisted, I guess.” “Twisted how?” “Because I’m no longer shackled to my soon-to-be-ex-wife, I wanted to do something different with my wedding ring.” “Different how?” Dom and Peter exchanged a nod, Dom opening a drawer and pulling out a box which he handed to Peter. “I tried to think of the worst thing I could do to my wedding ring,” Peter said. “What could I do to represent myself fucking it as I start my new life. That’s when it hit me.” Peter opened the box, revealing a thin, golden ring inside. “Is that…” “It’s a Prince Albert ring,” Dom said, putting on a new pair of sterile gloves. “Custom made.” “It’s a ring made from my wedding ring,” Peter told us, a giant grin on his face. “That way, whenever I fuck a man’s ass, I’m fucking my wedding ring at the same time.” “It’s like you’re marrying your dick,” Jay said, admiring the ring. “So, what? Is this like a wedding of some type?” I asked. “Are we watching you get your dick pierced like we’re watching you marry your dick?” “You’re watching me become the man I’ve always wanted to be,” Peter said, watching as Dom started prepping him for the piercing. “The Peter Flanagan everyone knew before that day I fucked a student is dead. I’m a new man. I’m finally free. Alright, Dom, I’m ready. Pierce my cock with my wedding ring!” _____________________________________________________________________________ I'm a sucker for doing fucked-up shit to wedding rings, and I've never seen this done before. I hope it's an idea that scratches that perverted itch you didn't know was in your mind.

Part 37: Plans in Motion (Will's Perspective) Peter coming out as gay and leaving his wife was all anyone could talk about at church. The rumors surrounding him transformed into wild stories of meeting men in the woods, blowing businessmen from out of town, prostituting himself in every alleyway, and even pledging allegiance to some type of sex cult. Well, the last one wasn’t entirely wrong. The stories continually grew, but they never hit on the truth. No one knew, for sure, that Peter had fucked a student, let alone a student who also attended the church and whom everyone believed to be the perfect example of a young, godly man. No one knew that Peter had fucked not only another man from the church but also two of the lead pastors. No one knew that he had held an orgy at his home in order to finally convert his body into becoming what he saw to be his only purpose: to create copious amounts of poz cum to infect other men. If everyone knew the truth, I believe they would have died of shock. As I walked through the church, I saw groups huddled together, whispering about what they had heard from someone else, my ears ready to pick up on any news. No one came close to the truth beyond knowing for sure that Peter Flanagan was getting fucked by and was fucking other men. No one knew where he had gone or who he was with. For all they knew, he was halfway across the country, locked in a sex dungeon, instead of several miles away at Dr. Wade’s house. Dom, Dr. Wade, and I took shifts helping Peter through his conversion, making sure he wasn’t just hydrated but also filled with poz cum. Peter had always been exceptionally horny, but his sex drive only increased once he was poz. “We’re fucking every night,” Dr. Wade told us when Dom and I visited. We took turns fucking Peter, Dr. Wade and I both impaling ourselves on his newly poz cock to drain him of his toxic cum. “He never gets tired. Look at this.” He held up a water bottle full of an opaque liquid. “This is all the cum he shot in me just from last night. All of this.” “Why collect it?” “I asked him to,” Dom said, taking the bottle. “You know how much I like to use other men’s cum as lube.” “I remember,” I told him, smiling. “The man is a god,” Dr. Wade said, stripping and readying himself for another round of fucking. “Imagine being able to recover that quickly and to cum that much toxic cum in one night. Fuck, send him to a bathhouse, and he’d be able to poz every neg guy there in one night.” “And get himself and us caught immediately,” I reminded. No one knew how connected we were with the whole ordeal. After Peter’s confession to his wife, it hadn’t taken long for her to contact me and Pastor Kline. We agreed to meet with her in my office, hoping to counsel her. Little did she know that both Pastor Kline and I had seduced her husband in that very office, witnessing firsthand his cumming ability, making sure he would become like us. “You were meeting with him,” she had said to us, more angry than sad. “Had he said anything?” “Nothing that would have indicated this,” we lied. Then again, no one had truly believed that he would leave his wife. Sure, had talked about it when he was getting fucked, but we had all written it off as a fantasy. “I just can’t stop imagining him doing such awful things with… with… God knows who!” He certainly does, I thought, remembering us all in her house that night, fucking in every room, defiling every surface with our hot, writhing bodies, covering anything that stood still with our toxic cum. If the police ever did a sweep to find DNA, we’d all be fucked. “If we had known,” Pastor Kline said, “We would have stepped in. If your husband was struggling with his desire to sleep with men, believe me, both Pastor Ryder and I would have been there.” I gave Pastor Kline a look, warning him not to risk making those types of suggestions. Yes, it appeared as if we had managed to go unnoticed, but there was no point in creating more commotion. The sooner everyone forgot about Peter the better. “That was a close one,” Pastor Kline said as soon as Mrs. Flanagan had left. “We’re not entirely out of the woods yet,” I told him. “No one knows that Peter is still here, and no one should. They’ll be asking students at the high school if any of them knew anything about Peter. I’m sure they’ll try to find out if he had fucked any of the students.” “Why should the school get involved?” “Peter was a well-known figure in our community. Him suddenly announcing that he’s gay will definitely cause insane parents to believe that he’s been fucking students.” “Have you talked to Lewis?” I nodded. “I told him to lay low. I also told him not to fuck anyone who is poz for a while. Until he’s graduated, on his way to college, and out of his parents’ house, any conversion will create red flags.” “I told Ryan the same thing,” Pastor Kline said. “Though, I’ll admit, I do miss having my son’s thick cock shoved up my hungry ass.” “If you want a cock to fill you up, you’ve got plenty of volunteers here,” I told him, winking. “But, for now, we need to leave Ryan and Lewis out of it.” “I agree,” Pastor Kline said. I watched as he stared off into the distance, as if some thought was hanging in the air just out of reach. “Are you alright?” I asked him. “What?” he said. “Sorry. Yeah, I’m alright. It’s just a lot going on at the moment.” “We all need to keep our heads low,” I told him. “Absolutely,” he said, heading out of my office. “Oh, by the way, I almost forgot to tell you, since we’ve been dealing with so much, I thought it would be best to try to relieve ourselves of some pressure.” “You mean…” My hand slipped down to my crotch where my cock started to get hard. Pastor Kline smiled. “No, though I’ll try to swing by tonight for some community time between you, me, and Dom. What I mean is that I reached out to some pastors that I’ve known for years, some from college, inviting them to preach for us in a few weeks. I thought it would be good to remove some of that pressure.” “Is it really smart to be bringing in strangers at a time like this?” “It’ll liven things up,” he said. “Things are already lively,” I told him. “Are you sure it’s a good idea?” “I believe so,” he said, smiling. “I think something very good will come from it.” “You’re the head pastor,” I told him. “And don’t you forget it,” he said. (Pastor Kline’s Perspective) “How long has it been?” he asked me, his voice over the phone sounding just as it had all those decades ago. Yes, there was a maturity now, the years of preaching wearing his voice down, but every word still sent chills down my spine. “Decades,” I told him, laughing. “I think I was there for an alumni lunch maybe twenty years ago.” “That’s right,” he said. “I remember now. Your wife had just had your son, right?” “That’s right,” I said. “Ryan. He’s in college now.” “It’s crazy how quickly they grow up, isn’t it?” “It is,” I told him, my hole still missing my son’s ample girth. “I can’t believe I never made the connection,” he told me. “After all these years, I can’t believe I never connected the dots.” “I didn’t either.” “Well,” he said, laughing, “that’s understandable. When we first met, I had a different last name.” “That’s true,” I told him. “Why did you change it?” “I had a major falling out with my father,” he said. “It was so bad that I couldn’t stand using the same last name as he did. So, when I started at my first church, I decided to go by my mother’s maiden name.” “Ryder,” I said, allowing the name to hang on my tongue. In that moment, I thought of all the times I had held Will’s cock on my tongue, tasting him, unaware that he was the offspring of the man I had desired for decades. “It’s always been a sore spot that my wife and I haven’t come to visit Will and see him in action, but you know how it is. It’s hard to get a Sunday off.” “That’s true,” I told him. “Though, speaking from experience, seeing Will in action is truly spectacular.” “Well, I’m excited to get the chance now that I’m retired,” he said. “And we’re excited to have you,” I said. “Now, remember, don’t mention a word to Will. I want it to be a surprise.” “My lips are sealed,” he said. “I won’t speak a word of it.” “Then we’ve got everything settled,” I told him, feeling my heart racing and my cock growing in my pants, a large pre-cum stain starting to show through. “We’ll see you our direction soon.” “That you will,” he said. “Until then.” “Goodbye, Ben,” I said, ending the call. I opened an app on my phone and looked up one of Will’s social media pages, filtering through pictures until I found the one I had been searching for. It showed Will with his family, all of them smiling at the camera. While Will always got me hard and Jay was the type of pervert who got me hot, my eyes could only focus on the man who stood behind them. Even though decades had passed and he showed his age, I found myself unable to pull my attention away from anyone but Ben Ryder. I fished my cock out of my pants and started jerking off, blowing my load all over the screen. “Until then,” I said, licking the screen. I’d had two Ryder men, but I wanted the trinity. __________________________________________________________________ I'm working to get Ben into the mix, men.

Part 37 and 38 tonight.

Dicks with hardly any heads are odd looking to me. It doesn't need a huge mushroom, but something should make it distinct from the shaft. A thick vein somewhere is hot, but too many veins freak me out. Still, a cock is a cock.

That's around 15,000 times and, knowing how much I tend to cum, 78 gallons of semen. That's a guess.......

I remember playing with my cock when I was around 5 or 6 and feeling intense waves coursing through my body. I didn't know what was happening, but I did know it had something to do with my penis. Jump to being ten and discovering porn, I started rubbing myself, just knowing my cock was central to the best feeling possible. I'd always stop before cumming, almost afraid of what would happen. At twelve I was in the bathroom jerking off, sensing something incredible and intense was going to happen, but instead of stopping, I kept going and shot my load all over the floor. I had no idea what had just happened, and I was scared for a while. However, I was instantly addicted to the rush an orgasm brings, and I've been jerking off at least twice a day ever since.

Alright men, I have a challenge for you. There is a video I've been searching for that I can't find no matter how many searches I pose on Google. I'm going to try to describe it, giving as many details as I can, hoping someone here knows the video. It's of a man masturbating in what looks like a home office. I believe there are plastic bins in the background and a door in sight. The video is homemade. I believe he's married. I think that may have been an important part of the video. He has a beard, and from the light, I believe he is either ginger or has brown hair close to ginger. The lighting is low. I believe it was done at night. He has a hot body, showing abs. His skin is slightly pale. I also believe he's hairy. His dick is huge. I think it was his dick that made this video hot. As you can see, these are pretty general descriptions, and I'm having trouble finding the video. If you think you find it, can you post a link to the video? I've been searching for this video for years. Goodluck men. I hope you find the video that has launched a thousand loads.

I didn't make Austen into this type of man, but I hope Mr. Fey will suffice. I'll see if I can write something where this is at play more, giving you a full experience.

Part 6 I pulled my fingers out of his hole and aligned my dick to where his puckered opening appeared to be reaching out toward me. I pushed my cock into his hole, his spit from sucking my dick giving just enough lubrication to help me inside but not enough to make it a smooth process. “Oh, fuck,” he cried, his hands grasping his legs tighter. “It fucking hurts. It hurts.” “It will,” I told him, pushing more of my cock into his body. I could feel his hole welcoming my cock, sucking me in, begging for me to change this man’s body from the worthless piece of shit that it was into the poz predator that it needed to be, owned by a new will. “It won’t last long. Just breathe through it. Let me in.” Mr. Fey closed his eyes and breathed, his chest heaving with every inch that entered. The body he once considered strong and powerful was proving itself weak against the invasion of a younger man’s cock. “Please,” he begged, looking up at me, his eyes tearful, his face flushed. “Please, stop. I can’t. I can’t take it.” “You can,” I told him, pushing harder, forcing my cock into his body, giving him what he didn’t know he wanted. What he needed. “Let me in.” “Please.” “Let me in.” “I can’t.” “You can,” I told him, leaning forward over his body, staring deep into his eyes, seeing both the fear and the lust battling for dominance. “Do you want this?” He waited a moment, a single tear falling down the side of his face. “Yes,” he whispered. “Then take it all,” I said, ramming my entire cock into his ass. “FUCK!” he cried, his body shaking, back lifting off the bed, eyes closed tight as his face registered the incredible pain I inflicted. Air caught in his chest, his body frozen for a moment as the initial connection was made. I could feel his heartbeat, the rhythm pulsing against my cock, playing out of sync to my own. I waited a moment, knowing this was crucial, allowing his body to feel me, to know me, to understand that I was in charge of what was about to happen. His body relaxed, his hole opening more to my girth. I watched as his eyes slowly opened, revealing what I already knew to be Mr. Fey’s destiny: the perverted monster had overcome his fear, leaving him as open prey. “That’s it,” I said, pulling out until only the head of my cock remained. “Accept my cock. Accept the pleasure.” I pushed back inside, taking extra care to press against his prostate, causing his body to shudder. “Yes,” he moaned, looking up at me with a new desire. “Please, fuck me. Fuck me hard.” “As you wish,” I said. I started slow, but my pace quickened. Soon, I was fucking his ass as if he had taken a hundred dicks up his hole every day. He was made to take cock, and his body was learning this truth. With each thrust, I could feel his heartbeat’s rhythm growing closer to mine, closer to Hunter’s. I knew Hunter could feel what I felt, could see what I saw as I stared down at this man whom I had once looked up to as a mentor but was now a whore to fuck and claim. “Fuck,” he said, looking down at his hard cock which leaked incredible amounts of cum, covering his stomach. “What’s happening?” “I’m fucking the cum right out of you,” I said, for once, telling him the truth. I was fucking the cum right out of him. Any negative cum stored up in his balls was being forced out of his body, making room for the poz cum which would change— and claim— his life. “Don’t stop,” he moaned, his hand grabbing his cock, helping squeeze out the cum which carried his DNA. He smeared it over his body, mixing it into his chest hair. The sight disgusted me, seeing this man revel in unworthy cum. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Keep going. Keep going.” “What do you want?” I asked, fucking his ass harder, watching the cum shooting out over his heaving body. I looked at his balls, knowing that they were almost ready to transform, to become what they had always been destined to be. “I want you to fuck me,” he said. “No,” I said, moving my attention back to his eyes where the wild beast was writhing in the pleasure. “What is it that you want from me?” He stared at me, eyes fixed. I could feel our heartbeats pounding, growing closer to the pounding of my cock into his virgin ass. His hand moved over his cum-covered body, his palm held up for him to see for the last time the cum which would have carried on his family line, the cum which had defined his identity. In that instant, I saw a change, and I knew he understood. “Your cum,” he said. I pounded hard into his ass and felt his heartbeat sync with my own, locking him into the transformation as the last drop of his neg cum left his body, leaving him an empty vessel to claim. He belonged to Hunter. Through me, Mr. Fey’s life would be claimed, all the years he would have lived stolen and given to our Master. I looked up into the mirror and saw Hunter staring back at me, his own body reflected and fucking Mr. Fey into a life of poz fucking. “Who do you belong to?” I shouted, our heartbeat almost audible in the room. “Our Master,” Mr. Fey gasped, the name a sound of praise from his lips. Everything he knew, everything he had lived for, his job, his wife, his hopes and dreams, all disappeared, replaced forever by his new objective in life. “Who does your dick belong to?” “Our Master.” “And whose toxic cum is churning now inside your balls?” “Our Master’s cum.” “And whose life am I extracting in place of gifting you with our Master’s cum?” Mr. Fey’s eyes, filled with the monster of lust and perversion, stared into my own, into the eyes of our Master. “My life,” he said. “Then give it to him,” I said, forcing my dick inside his body and injecting him with the poz cum of our Master. Mr. Fey’s eyes widened for a brief moment, the man he had been, the loving husband and dutiful teacher, shining through for a single moment before disappearing forever. His body shuddered, his hole gripping my cock, milking me of the cum we both craved. I looked into the mirror and saw Hunter’s face, his eyes meeting mine and pulling me into his mind. I could see Mr. Fey and the life he had lived. I could see all the choices which had brought him to me that night. I could see the life he could have lived should he had resisted me and returned home to his loving wife. I could see him loving his wife, fucking his wife, being the husband he had promised. I could see his wife telling him that he was going to be a father. I could see him holding his son for the first time. I could see the three sons which would have come after, all growing up to be strong men like him. I could see him growing old, retiring from his job, and living out his remaining days knowing that he had been a good man, a good husband, and a good father. I stared into the eyes of that older man and watched as they went cold, filling instead with regret and pain. All the things he had ever wanted in his life were taken from him, leaving him instead in a bed in a motel room, far from his wife, his ass filled with the poz cock of a former student. His hopes of a family were wasted on his stomach and chest, drying and dying, mixing with the sweat of a night of careless, cheating sex. I watched as black ink appeared on his chest, his own biohazard symbol appearing beneath the smeared remains of his DNA. I understood. Mr. Fey had made a choice, giving up his wife and the chance to father sons for a single chance of fucking, proving what was truly important to him. Now, if he was ever in doubt, all he had to do was look at what was tattooed over his heart to know what he desired the most. “Well done,” I heard Hunter say, and I could, for a moment, feel his cock inside me, once again filling me with his gift. “You have brought me a worthy tool.” The motel room vanished, only Mr. Fey remaining. I watched as his body was covered with tattoos, every inch of skin inked, creating a map of his descent into sinful lust. He would spend his life moving from town to town, searching out leather bars and anywhere he could squeeze his large frame into a suit of rubber. The once clean-cut man would take on a new identity, that of a skinhead forever seeking out young men like Austen, like the students he once taught. He would fill his lungs with smoke, tempting men with his lighter and the promise of a cigarette. They were moths to the flame, and he would ensure that they would get burned. The image blurred, and I found myself back in the motel room, staring at myself in the mirror. It was done. I pulled out of Mr. Fey’s body, watching as his balls moved within his scrotum, changing before my eyes, transforming into the mirror images of the balls which had given him a new, toxic life. Now, if he fucked his wife, she would give him sons he could not claim as his own, Hunter’s blood running through their veins and carrying on his legacy. Not that he’d want to fuck her, I thought. Not now. Hunter had plans for Mr. Fey, though the possibility of using this man as a way to breed offspring was something not to be dismissed. I collected my things, leaving Mr. Fey to transform into the man Hunter desired, stripping away the good man he had once been. I walked to the front desk and found the same man still inside. “What can I help you with?” he asked. I put my hand out. “Give me back thirty and I’ll give you thirty minutes that’ll change your life forever.” The man smiled. Got him. ______________________________________________________________________________________ Not sure if I'll continue with Austen, return to Hunter, go with Mr. Fey, or bring in some other man sucking the lives of innocent men away. We'll see.

Part 5 I broke the kiss and grabbed his shirt, undoing the buttons. Overcome by his lust, he stood up and started to undo his pants, kicking his shoes off. It took little time for his clothing to join my pants on the floor, his naked body exposed to me. I felt a shift in my mind, a presence that filled me with a surge of orgasmic power. Somehow, I knew Hunter was with me, seeing Mr. Fey through my eyes, examining the prey I had caught. My cock ached as it tried to spring free, blood pumping out of anticipation, and I knew Hunter was pleased. Mr. Fey took care of himself. He was muscular, clearly working out when he could, but I could tell his regime was far from what it had been when he had played football in college. With the muscle there was also a thin layer of fat, creating a strong body. A thin layer of hair covered his chest, though it was far less than my own. His married cock was fully hard, wishing to be impressive, but it looked pathetic compared to my own and the cock which had blessed me. “Impressive,” I lied, kneeling down and gripping his balls. I moved them in my palm, knowing what was about to happen to them. “Does your wife blow you?” “No,” he moaned, looking down at me with anticipation. “Not anymore.” “Too bad,” I said. “Could she ever do this?” I opened my mouth and swallowed his cock down in one go. “Oh, fuck,” he cried, grabbing my shoulder to balance himself, my tongue running along the underside. Twice that night I had been forced to taste the cock of this inferior man, but I knew it would all be worth it once he was claimed. I pulled myself off him, leaving his cock slicked up with my spit. I pulled off my jockstrap, allowing my own cock to break free. Mr. Fey looked down, his eyes wide as he took me in. “Fuck,” he said, falling to his knees, his eyes still glued to my cock. “You’re huge.” “Guess I’m just lucky,” I said. I grabbed the base and squeezed, a drop of my poz pre-cum leaking out and hanging from the head. “Wanna taste?” “Uhm,” he said, our eyes meeting again, the lust for me still present, though still mixed with his fear. “I’ve never… I’ve never sucked a cock before.” “Don’t worry,” I told him, my hand moving to his face again, at first caressing his cheek before moving to the back of his head to guide him closer. “Just try it once. Just try to even take the tip.” That’s all it’ll take. He opened his mouth, his tongue moving out, reaching for the drop of toxic pre-cum that would start his journey into depravity. I felt a warmth envelop my cockhead as Mr. Fey suckled at the tip, tasting the very pre-cum he would soon be producing in his balls. As if a switch went off in his head, he moved forward, taking more of my cock into his mouth. “Do you like that?” I asked, knowing perfectly well that the taste of the pre-cum was ensnaring him, acting like a drug, making him an addict instantly. Though he’d never sucked a cock before, his brain was rewiring itself, his ability to suck a cock of any size now second nature. Scratch that, first nature. I looked down at Mr. Fey who worked my cock, his mouth skilled in extracting more of Hunter’s pre-gift. His eyes looked up at me, and I could see the fear diminishing, dying away as we started to take over his body. “Since I already got you off,” I told him, relishing the pleasure he was bringing me, “it seems only fair that it’s my turn. Don’t you think?” My cock slipped from his mouth as he said, “Yes. Whatever you want.” His mouth reached for my cock again, but I stopped him, tilting his chin up. “I blew you,” I told him, my bare foot tapping the head of the cock I had sucked off not even an hour ago. “But I think it would be better if I was to fuck you instead.” “Fu… fuck me?” Mr. Fey managed, some of the fear returning to his eyes. “I… I haven’t been—” “You haven’t been fucked,” I finished, already knowing this about the closeted man. “But you want to get fucked, don’t you?” He nodded. “Then why not now?” I asked. “Why not get fucked the very same night you sucked your first cock?” I watched as he thought this over, his mind working out what to do. “You’ve already come so far,” I said. “Why not go just a bit farther?” The potency of the pre-cum was already working its way through his body, breaking down his defenses. What this man would normally have refused to do in the past, like be fucked by a student and cheat on his wife, would become a desire he couldn’t refuse. “You don’t have to worry,” I told him, turning on the compassion, helping him believe that I was someone who truly cared. “I won’t ever tell your wife or anyone. It’ll be our little secret. No strings attached. I’ll be gentle, and if you don’t like it, we can stop. You can even fuck me instead. What do you say?” He stared up at me, the fear in his eyes growing stronger for a moment before fading to the background again, replaced now by the same lust which had brought him here, closer to breaking free. “Alright,” he said. “Fuck me.” “With pleasure.” I pulled him to his feet, kissed him again, charging his lust for me, for what he knew was dangerous and wrong, and pushed him back onto the bed, noticing my reflection in the mirror hanging over the bed. I smiled, seeing myself for the first time for what I was: a predator. I pulled off my shirt, revealing my strong, hairy chest, knowing that my tattoo was out of sight, keeping Mr. Fey unaware. I started to flex, showing him my muscles, proving he wasn’t the only strong man in the room. “Fuck me,” he said, his hands reaching out to my chest, his fingers running through the hair and feeling strength beneath. His fingers found my nipples and squeezed them, extracting a moan from me. “You like what you see?” I asked. “Yes,” he said, a genuine smile filling his face. “I’m not the same kid you used to teach, am I?” I said, climbing onto the bed and grabbing his legs, running my hands along his warm skin, pulling them up and over my shoulders. “Most definitely not,” he said, smiling. “You’re a fucking gorgeous man.” “So are you,” I lied again. Lifting his legs up, I grasped his ass and pulled his cheeks apart, revealing the hole about to be claimed. I lunged forward and started to eat his hole, opening him up to what would surely bring about considerable pain and pleasure. “What are… what are you…” Mr. Fey tried to speak, but his breath was heavy, pleasure filling his body as my tongue entered him, tasting his virgin hole. “I’ve got to get you ready for me,” I told him, spitting into my hand and rubbing it over this hole. I slid one of my fingers into my mouth, wetting it, and slowly inserted it into his ass. “Fuck,” he choked, grabbing his legs and pulling them back, welcoming me into his body. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I lied, massaging his hole, opening him up to what would transform his body into a servant to my Master. “I’ve got to get you opened up for my cock.” Mr. Fey looked down through his legs, spotting my hard cock. His eyes grew wide, as if he hadn’t just had the same cock inside his mouth, dumping toxic pre-cum into his body, already starting to rewire his brain. “Will it fit?” “Only if I open you up first. That’s why I’m getting your hole ready,” I said, a second and a third finger already inside his body. The pre-cum was doing its work, changing his body to accept his fate. His mind didn’t know, but his body was already accepting its new allegiance, knowing Mr. Fey was no longer in command. I played with his hole as I played with his mind, bringing the trapped perverted monster inside him closer to the surface. “Please,” he moaned, his hole squeezing my four fingers, “just fuck me. Fuck my virgin hole.” “You’ve got it,” I said.

Part 5 coming tonight too.

Part 4 “Austen?” Mr. Fey said, backing up into the booth, clearly fearful of the position in which he found himself. “What… what are you…” “What am I doing here?” I finished for him. “I think you know.” I reached out a hand and cupped his crotch, feeling the inferior cock and balls beneath. There were small splatterings of cum around the zipper, and I hated having to touch cum that was, at that point, unchanged. “I was doing you.” “Stop,” he pressed, pushing my hand away. “You can’t do that.” “Why not?” I asked. “I just took your cock down my throat.” “Austen, no.” “And I swallowed your cum. I can still taste your DNA.” And it made me sick. “Stop talking like that,” he growled, grabbing my shoulders. Though his cock was lacking, his body made up for it. He was tall and broad-shouldered. His hands were large and strong. If Hunter had not already claimed me, this man could have taken me as his own without much of a fight. “I think you like it when I talk to you like that,” I said. I never would have talked to someone like this before Hunter. It was as if his words were filtering through me, his mind poisoning what was once pure in me. “Isn’t that why you’re here?” My hand returned to his crotch, feeling a bulge forming again. “I think it gets you hard when you hear me talk like that.” He pressed himself up against the wall, trying to look everywhere but at me. I leaned in and kissed his neck, feeling his warmth and tasting his sweat as his nerves fired off. I’d had a thing for Mr. Fey in high school. He was the perfect specimen… or he had been before Hunter. Now, he was insignificant… though he would surely make the perfect bait once he was converted, his balls churning out the toxic cum Hunter bestowed upon us. “You’re such a big man,” I said, my warm breath brushing over his neck. “Did you play football in college?” “I, uhm…” he cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple brushing against my cheek. “Yes. I did.” “And did you ever stay behind in the locker room after practice or a game?” I pressed my crotch against his, feeling his cock throb against mine. “Your body all sweaty. Your muscles heated. Your testosterone flooding every cell.” “Please,” he sighed, his voice strained as he tried to control himself. It was a losing battle. “Did you get a teammate to pull out your cock and suck you dry?” My hand ran down his chest, feeling his pounding heartbeat. “Or, was it your coach who took you?” “I… I never…” “There’s something hot about an older man overstepping and taking a younger man as his own, isn’t there?” I stared into his eyes, seeing the fear mixed with his urge to strip himself naked and fulfill every one of his fantasies. “Knowing him as someone else, as a player or a student, and then knowing him as a lover.” “I… can’t…” “But you can,” I said, our bodies pressed together. His cock had grown to its pathetic length, mine eclipsing his easily. Our hearts were beating quickly, though we were not yet syncing. “No one will ever have to know,” I told him. “I’ll never tell. I’ll go back to school after summer ends. You’ll go back to teaching young minds like mine. Who would know?” I could see in his eyes he was thinking it over. He knew me, and from the bulge in his pants, he wanted me. He also knew that he’d never have to see me again once the summer ended. I was his perfect option, his perfect fantasy. He looked deeper into my eyes, and in that moment, I wasn’t myself. I could feel Hunter looking at Mr. Fey through me, his lust for this man creating a fire inside me. “Alright,” Mr. Fey said. I had him. We left the booth and made our way through the store, the guy behind the counter winking at me as I left. Maybe I would bring him to Hunter’s side… one day. “Where should we go?” I asked him, following him to his car. “Your place?” “I can’t,” he said, his right hand moving to touch the wedding ring on his left hand. Fuck, married men are so easily broken and so easily scared. He had no idea how scared he should have been, unaware that his choice to give in to me was ruining forever the promise on his ring finger. “I know a place,” I said. “I don’t know.” “Don’t worry,” I told him. “No one will find out.” I got into his car and directed him to a small motel I knew was on the outside of town. A friend of mine used to buy weed from a guy here years ago, and, from what he told me, hardly anyone spent time here unless they were dealing or fucking. “I can’t pay for a room,” Mr. Fey said, pulling into the abandoned parking lot. “All I have is my card, and it’ll show up for my wife to see.” “Don’t worry,” I told him, reaching over and rubbing my hand along his crotch, feeling how hard his cock was over the fear of being discovered by his wife. “I’ve got it.” I got out of the car and walked to the main office, turning back once to stare into the worried eyes of my old teacher. Sure, I knew he could have changed his mind and driven away, leaving me stranded, but I knew his lust for me was killing the anxiety which was screaming for him to run. For a second I remembered my own moment when I had felt the same. I remembered standing in that club, looking up into the gorgeous face of Hunter, and knowing that I could turn and run instead of pursuing someone who I could sense was dangerous. I should have known something more had been at play, but my desire for Hunter to fuck me worked hard to rewrite the fear in my brain, silencing all voices screaming for me to save myself. I knew the same thing would be overtaking Mr. Fey, his desire to fuck a former student and to cheat on his wife silencing the voice telling him to drive off. I’d have him in the end, and Hunter would have his body and life, just as he had mine. “One room,” I told the man at the front desk. He looked at me and then out the window to where Mr. Fey was still sitting in the car. “Fifty dollars,” he said. “Less if you give me a chance at your ass.” I pulled out my wallet and handed him fifty. “Let’s see how long he and I go. I might just be coming back for some of my cash back and for some of whatever you’ve got hard for me.” I took the keycard and left, knowing that I had seduced the man just as easily as Hunter had done me. Even easier, I thought. Maybe I’ll be serving my Master even more tonight than I had originally planned. The thought got me hard. “Are you ready?” I asked, tapping the card against the car’s window. Mr. Fey stared up at me, his strong hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. This was the moment, the moment of truth. Unfortunately for Mr. Fey, the choice had already been made, and it wasn’t in his favor. The car’s engine turned off and Mr. Fey exited his car, following me to the room. “Make yourself comfortable,” I said, taking my pants off. Mr. Fey closed the door and quickly locked it, slowly turning to look at me. I could tell that his eyes were searching me, examining my body. Normally, I would remove my shirt and show him my hairy chest, proving how masculine I was and how much testosterone coursed through my body, but I couldn’t. Not yet. He’d see my tattoo, the tattoo Hunter had given me, the tattoo my mind was trained to ignore. He couldn’t see it or the entire night would be ruined. Instead, I allowed my growing bulge to stick out and tempt the man who had once seen me as nothing more than a student in need of his teaching. Maybe… “Well,” I said, walking to him, a hand on my bulge, massaging my cock to its full size. “Aren’t you going to come inside?” “I am inside,” he said. “Not yet you’re not,” I told him. I reached out and grabbed his arms, pulling him toward the bed. “Come on, Mr. Fey. I told you, your wife won’t ever find out about any of this. Once you leave tonight, you won’t ever have to see or hear from me ever again.” I sat him down on the bed’s edge, my hand reaching up to caress his face. He tried to look anywhere but into my face, but a strong magnetism coursed through me, ensnaring him. His eyes looked into mine, and the fear which still haunted him started to fade, revealing the buried sexual beast hiding inside him, trying to escape. There you are, I thought, smiling. I leaned forward and kissed him, tasting him, wishing it was Hunter instead of this worthless excuse for a man. I could feel him fighting, but soon I felt his hands reaching up to my face, holding me steady as he kissed me deeper, his tongue filling my mouth. The floodgates had opened. He was mine.

Part 36: (A Medical Procedure) I slicked the dildo up with a fair amount of lube, watching as Doctor Wade pumped Peter’s cock, causing the sick man’s body to shiver. “Are you enjoying yourself, Mr. Flanagan?” Doctor Wade asked, his thumb running over the glands in a circular motion. “Please be honest. It’s important to be honest with your doctor.” “Yes, doctor,” Peter moaned, his hands reaching up and pinching his nipples, fingers moving through his sweat-drenched chest hair. “I believe my patient is in need of a special procedure,” Doctor Wade said, his hand moving down to the base and squeezing. His other hand cradled his balls, moving them in his palm. “Yes, I believe you may have a powerful buildup of potent, toxic cum trapped in your manly balls. I’m afraid we just can’t have this if you’re to get better.” “What can you do, doctor?” Peter asked. “I think my assistant,” Doctor Wade said, looking back at me, “can assist us in extracting the precious cum we’ve all been waiting for.” “I’m ready,” I said, winking at him. “Shall we begin?” I crawled onto the bed and moved with Doctor Wade, him lifting one leg while I lifted the other. “Are you ready, Mr. Flanagan?” “Yes, doctor,” Peter said, looking at both of us with an expression that proved how much he wanted this transformation. He finally achieved what he had wanted for so long. Not only was he now poz, but he was starting out on a new journey, discovering what he wanted. I could see in his eyes the images of all the men he wanted to fuck, all the men he wanted to be fucked by, and all the men swimming in the sea of poz cum he would now drown the world in. I knew I would be one of those men, and I was thankful. I moved the dildo to his hole, a hole I was familiar with, a hole I loved fucking, and pressed gently, watching as the blue head slid inside him, opening him up. “Fuck,” Peter moaned, his hands running over his body, his mouth open in a silent cry as he welcomed this new object into his body. “More,” he finally said, his ass grinding against the dildo. “Fill me. Fill me. Fuck me. FUCK ME!” “If that’s what the patient needs,” I said, pushing the dildo further into his hole, the base reaching his hairy hole and causing his back to arch. His pelvis started thrusting into the air, fucking Doctor Wade’s hand. “Fuck,” Peter cried, his hands grabbing the sheets, his dick kicking in Doctor Wade’s grasp, pre-cum dripping out in a flood. “I think the patient is accepting the procedure well,” Doctor Wade said, smiling at me. “We should take a sample to study.” He leaned forward and licked up Peter’s shaft, collecting the pre-cum on his tongue. “What a delicious sample.” He let go of Peter’s cock, his hand covered, and moved it to me. “Taste.” I opened my mouth and he slowly stuck his finger into my mouth, running it over my tongue. I could taste Peter along with Doctor Wade. My cock was throbbing, unable to believe the scene I found myself in. “It’s incredible.” “It’s all yours,” Peter said. “I’m all yours.” “Make sure you’re really grinding the head against the prostate,” Doctor Wade told me, squeezing out more of Peter’s pre-cum on his hand, using it to slick up his dick. “You do leak a lot of cum.” He moved his cum-covered hand to his naked body and rubbed it over his own chest, covering him with Peter’s essence. “We need to make sure we can extract that cum as soon as possible and as many times as possible.” “Absolutely.” I tilted the dildo, knowing where Peter’s prostate was having fucked against it so many times before. Just as with Dom, I knew Peter’s body well, and I knew how to control his body and fill every part of him with waves of pleasure. I slowly pulled the dildo out, watching it slide out of his hole, the hairs surrounding his hole clinging to the dildo, his legs shaking from the pressure I provided. “You like that?” “I fucking love it,” Peter said, his chest heaving, sweat pouring from his body. I leaned forward and kissed the leg I held, holding it close to my face, watching as I caused his body to writhe. “This is what you’ve wanted?” Doctor Wade asked. “This is what you needed?” “It’s… everything,” Peter said. “I can feel it,” he moaned. “I can feel it. I can feel the poz cum. It’s filling me.” “We need to get it out of you,” Doctor Wade told him, jerking his cock faster, Peter’s balls bouncing, slowly pulling into his body. “If you want to feel better, if you want to be a true poz man, you need to blow your first poz load.” “Yes,” he said, looking at us both. “Please. It’s all I want. It’s what I need.” I jerked the dildo into his ass, moving it against Peter’s prostate, milking him. Pre-cum continued leaking out of his cock, dripping over Doctor Wade’s hand and Peter’s balls, creating more lube for the dildo, pushing poz pre-cum into his body. “You’re filling your own body with poz cum,” I said, manipulating the dildo to send chills throughout his body. “Fuck,” Peter cried, his body shaking, our grip on his legs tightening. “I’m cumming. I’m fucking cumming!” “Do it,” Doctor Wade shouted, his grip tightening, his pumping faster, centralized on the head which was a dark purple. “Blow you first poz load you fucking slut.” “FUCK!” Peter’s body lifted off the bed as cum shot out of his dick, sprayed high in the air, splattering over his poz body, mixing into his sweat and hair. “Fuck,” Doctor Wade shouted, watching with wide eyes as Peter continued to cum, pooling over Peter’s stomach, covering Doctor Wade’s hand. A few shots splattered his body, Doctor Wade looking at me with wonder. “He’s incredible.” “He’s a god,” I told him, leaning forward and taking Peter’s dick in my mouth, tasting the cum I’d loved before, knowing it was now toxic. It was still flowing out of him, filling my mouth. “How’s it taste?” Doctor Wade asked. “Potent,” I said, licking my lips. “Very potent.” Doctor Wade smiled and leaned forward, grabbing my chin and bringing his lips to mine. We kissed, Peter’s poz cum moving between us as we tasted each other and the sweet nectar. “I’d forgotten how incredibly hot you are,” Doctor Wade told me, grinning as I leaned forward, following after his lips. “You too,” I said. I pulled the dildo out of Peter’s hole, admiring the ass juice covering the blue silicone. Doctor Wade took the dildo out of my hand and admired it. “Mr. Flanagan, you were a good boy today. Your doctor is proud. How about a lollipop?” Peter’s hand reached out and took the dildo, his orgasm and poz-confused brain unaware of what he was holding when he brought it to his mouth and licked the blue shaft. “That’s a good patient,” Doctor Wade said. “That buildup of poz cum won’t bother you anymore.” “I wouldn’t be so sure,” I told him, reaching over and grabbing Peter’s already hardening cock. “I think the patient could go again.” “Then we should get to work,” Doctor Wade said. “This time, let’s take a more ‘invasive’ angle to the treatment.” Doctor Wade climbed off the bed, and I followed, Peter still admiring the dildo. “Pull his ass to the edge of the bed.” I did as he said, Peter moaning as he filled his mouth with the dildo. “Are you ready for another procedure?” Doctor Wade asked Peter. Peter nodded, smiling. “Please, sir.” “Then let’s get started,” Doctor Wade said, reaching down and scooping up the large puddle of cum collected on Peter’s stomach. “A doctor must be properly prepped.” He smeared the cum over his own ass, pushing deep into his hole, making sure his hungry ass was ready. “I believe you have a history of fucking this patient’s brains out.” I smiled, nodding. “Then let’s see how long it takes you to fuck his cum deep into my guts.” Doctor Wade crawled onto the bed and mounted Peter who was attempting to deepthroat the dildo. “Now, Mr. Flanagan, I believe a healthy dosage of sodomy should do the trick.” He grabbed Peter’s hard cock and slipped it between his cum-covered ass cheeks. “And I think a nice injection should help your body as it transforms.” He looked back at me and winked, Peter’s cock disappearing as it entered Doctor Wade’s hole. Peter moaned around the dildo as he entered Doctor Wade’s body. I collected some of the cum which had splattered on Peter’s legs and balls and slicked up my cock, There was still residual lube from the dildo and the cum which had dripped down to his ass, making his hole ready for the fucking. “Are you ready?” I asked, lining my cock up with Peter’s hole, my head pressing into his puckered opening. “Ready to begin,” Doctor Wade said. I forced myself into Peter’s hole, finding him to be prepped and ready for me. While my cock was bigger than the dildo, I still found no resistance, his body loose and open. “Fuck,” Peter and I shouted at the same time, my hands reaching forward and grabbing Doctor Wade’s shoulders, forcing him all the way down onto Peter’s cock. “Fuck,” they both shouted, Peter now thrown into a wave of confusion as his hole was filled, his prostate was hit, and his cock was enveloped in a warm embrace that welcomed him. “The patient is accepting the procedure well,” Doctor Wade moaned, bouncing on Peter’s cock, his own hands playing with his nipples while Peter continued to suck on the dildo while his free hand pumped Doctor Wade’s stiff cock. “He’s doing very well.” I gripped tight on Doctor Wade’s shoulders, Peter’s legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me deeper into his body. Fuck, I had missed this hole. Fuck, I had missed Doctor Wade. Maybe Peter had the right idea. Maybe leaving all the secrecy behind so he could go out and live without fear of being discovered was the right way to go. It sure as fuck felt right as I fucked his ass, my mind spinning with the possibilities. “I can feel it,” Doctor Wade said, a hand resting on his stomach. “I can feel you filling me with pre-cum. I can feel it. Oh fuck. Oh fuck, it’s incredible.” “Don’t stop,” Peter told us, his conversion unleashing the pervert slut within him rather than weakening his strength. “Fuck me. Fucking take my hole.” “We already have,” I told him, my fingers digging into Doctor Wade’s shoulders, my knuckles white as I fucked harder, my own orgasm on the horizon. These two men were incredible, their bodies pouring sweat as they gave into their animalistic passions, seeking out the only thing they knew would make them feel satisfied: poz cum. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” I said, slamming into Peter’s ass harder, breathing in the stench of sex. “Oh, fuck. Fuck.” “Do it,” Doctor Wade said, his head jostled around as he rode toward his own orgasm. “Complete the injection.” “FUCK!” I shouted, slamming one last time into Peter’s hole, grinding against his prostate and starting the chain reaction. As I came, shooting my toxic cum into Peter’s guts, Peter’s toxic cock shot out his second load of poz cum deep into Doctor Wade’s hole, filling him full. As Peter’s toxic cum shot out of Doctor Wade’s packed hole, hitting his prostate, Doctor Wade’s cock erupted in Peter’s grasp, shooting cum all over Peter’s face and the blue dildo in his mouth. “Fuck me!” Doctor Wade cried, his body shaking, Peter’s body struggling under his weight. Doctor Wade held his place over Peter’s body for a moment before Peter’s legs bucked him forward out of my grip. I tried to hold on, but my fingers lost their grip, creating scratches down Doctor Wade’s back. “Oh shit!” Doctor Wade fell forward onto Peter, their sweaty, cum-covered bodies writing together in the heat they created. “What the fuck was that?” “I’m sorry,” I said, eyeing the cuts down his muscled back. “Don’t be sorry,” Doctor Wade said, looking back at me. “That was incredible.” He looked down at Peter who was still filling the doctor’s hole with cum, his eyes almost rolling into the back of his head from the intensified orgasm coursing throughout his body. “You’re amazing.” He leaned forward, pushing the blue dildo out of the way, and kissed Peter, Doctor Wade’s own cum covering their faces. I scooped up some of Peter’s cum which was dripping out of Doctor Wade’s hole and drank it down, savoring the flavor which I knew to be male lust. “Looks like I missed a good time,” Dom said, entering the room. “It was nothing,” I told him, smiling, cum covering my face. “It was just a simple medical procedure.” ___________________________________________________________________________________________ I couldn't help myself with the medical lingo and scenario. I love medical porn, and I couldn't resist.

Part 4 Tonight