nakedpublicpig

Fucking hot. Driving high in just a jock and boots promises a great story.

Thanks for the suggestions so far. I want to try a quiche for sure.

A fuck buddy removed my tit jewelry a few years ago and I am about to get them redone. What other piercings are good for a bottom? I have an average cock, which doesn't matter as much since I'm all bottom, but would a PA add extra sensation or keep my cock aroused?

Fucking hot. Congratulations on a good find.

Occasionally at one sex club, foreign cab-driver types will yell, with attitude, "Why won't you let me use a condom?" I respond, "It's my ass. If you don't like it, go to another room." Fortunately, it happens less and less.

I agree with exercising caution with GHB, but to address the topic, I almost always tell hook-ups that if I zone out, to keep at it. Nobody would suspect me as a chem novice, so I would fall in the category of implied consent.

I love adult video arcades and have been going since I turned 18. as a good whore-in-waiting, II looked more naïve than I was, and the old guy giving me tokens said, "You let me know if anyone bothers you." Every time I came in, he'd give me extra tokens. I didn't know that a young guy being there helped his business. I still love those places, wearing in shorts and t-shirts that come off easily, and love to get fucked with the door unlocked or out in the hallway. What I've managed to miss are the true adult theatre and on my bucket list is to travel to a city with at least one nasty adult theatre where I can get naked and pumped full of cum.

I love public. Unfortunately, so many guys say they are into it when they just like to fantasize about it. When Dutch Valley Road in Atlanta was cruisy, I got fucked in the middle of the road by a hung top (BBC) about 3 am. Also fucked a lot in the parking lot off Faulkner Road--sometimes more sex outside of the sex club than inside. Another time fucked on an second-floor common balcony of an old apartment building with rush hour traffic backed up on the street 10 feet away. My best fuckbuddy was a hot-as-fuck bi guy who loved that I get off on arriving naked and ready. He'd text late at night (between midnight and 4 am), "Want to get fucked?" I'd get ready as quick as I could and drive over naked. He would be waiting naked on the front porch (not screened). I'd park on the street, into his yard naked and as soon as on the porch start sucking his cock. After a while he would turn me around and fuck my ass good until he ordered me, "Clamp down on it" and came. Once there was an early morning runner going by but didn't notice. After he filled my ass, he would work my ass until I shot. Also, for a year or so, I had a group of buddies who would meet me in a park and take turns on me. The park was ideal because the lighting was such you could see out but not in, although you felt like anyone driving by out on the road could see everything. From apps and texting existing fuck buddies, especially when one extra hung guy would come into town, I'd line up about four hung tops. They'd arrive, walk in naked and find me at the picnic table, fuck my brains out and leave me with an ass full of cum. One of these guys went with me to a running trail about midnight. He thought we'd at least carry our shorts but I said, "No. We're doing it all the way." We ran two miles, he fucked me on the bridge over a highway and we ran back. Before getting in the car, we made out on a bench in the parking lot. A guy walked by and didn't say a thing. Been fucked in a bar, although still want to get fucked on the dance floor, and love getting openly sleazy in video arcades. The old Northside Y in Atlanta used to be fun as fuck. The straight guys knew better than to go into the we area after 6 or so. Sometimes it was a free-for-all. And the Harding Y in Nashville was fun years ago. You knew that if the steam room was really hazy with steam someone had manipulated the system. Went in one day and a guy got down and sucked off about 10 of us, one after the other. One of the regulars told me in the shower, "He's so good, I keep coming back." Another time I had a guy dare me to come to his condo naked about 3 am. I parked, went up the elevator and he fucked me in his doorway. Been fucked at a lot of complex pools, even in daylight. Only time caught was when a boyfriend was fucking me in his ex's condo's pool when we were the only ones there. I've been to Folsom and throated a guy on the street but next time want to go and get fucked good right in front of all the crowds. I've also heard you can go to Southern Decadence and spend the entire time naked.

My first time fucked was before so-called safe sex. (That story I recently contributed, by mistake, to Bareback Fiction, but it's true.) Condoms were for straight guys, and even then I looked down on guys who used them, although I wasn't sure why. When I started a relattionship as HIV was around us, I tried fucking with a condom and rebelled. I was naive and assumed we'd be monogamous, so why couldn't we fuck like normal? My partner, the self-proclaimed condom queen, gave in, although we soon discovered the other didn't like to top. We started fooling around, pretending to be monogamous. (Yeah, whatever. I don't even date these days, but when I did date, I got where on the first date I let guys know I don't believe in monogamy.) Anyway, when cheating I'd have a guy put on a rubber. My partner and I separated, and I hooked up lots more. One guy had a big cock and told me I was so tight he needed to go bare. "Just don't shoot in me," I replied. Who is going to turn down a big cock? Another guy with a big cock assured me he was negative, so I let him cum in me all the time. Then I moved to a big city--so much more cock--and was a little paranoid, knowing most of the gay guys were poz. I even remember reaching back to make sure a guy was using a rubber. Then one night a guy's rubber came off, and his fishing it out with his fingers felt so, so good, I got where I'd try to see if my ass could pull off guys' rubbers. Somewhere between careless and safe, I kept testing negative, and decided maybe I had a natural immunity to HIV. I've always felt like the first guy who fucked me, in the days when HIV was being transmitted before anyone knew what it was, could have been HIV+. A blood test at my next physical showed I had antibodies for Hepatitis B. In my odd thinking, I decided the guy who first fucked me probably had both. This going through my mind years later coincided with some really bad experiences being fucked with a rubber. A rubber turned something pleasurable into pain and the pain didn't give way like it does bare. I started taking mainly bare cock, although not refusing covered, as long as they pulled out before shooting. Most guys were willing to make the trade off, and it was hot for them to shoot all over my ass.( I also had this weird experience when using Max Impact while being fucked crazy. My mind had this sort of circus chase where if if I got back to a certain box, I was safe to have the guy cum in me. If not, I'd sort of squirm off his cock before he came." I'd say the progression to exclusively bareback went pretty quickly, less than a year, coinciding with my getting in shape after letting myself go. Healthy encourages healthy, so why was I even more turned off by condoms? Because to me, bare is healthy. I no longer let guys use condoms,, except for this one hot guy with an 11-inch cock who would fuck me in a group after three other guys had cum in my ass first. Unless a guy told me he was poz, I would let him cum up my ass. If he was pop, I'd ask him to pull out before he came if he was worried about it. In the midst of my second adolescence, I snagged a boyfriend because he hated rubbers and loved pumping cum deep into me with his big cock. He even fucked me bare after discovering I was taking all kinds of other loads. (He was neg but fucked pot guys bare, so the risk wasn't an issue for him.) Some of the loads I took were from poz guys, and I assumed I'd test +. But I didn't. When I got out of that relationship, I decided I just didn't care and would manage if I converted. Sex is too primal to be restrained by something unnatural. When I slut at this one video arcade, during the day, I make some married guys mad by saying, "You can't fuck me with a condom." But so many more love dumping a load in my sloppy hole. And so far, I haven't picked up anything the doctor can't fix.

First Time WS I never thought I would be into WS. But 20 years ago I was hooking up on the m4m chatrooms. Young and just out of my first relationship, I was determined to have some fun. And I had finally figured out I wasn’t exactly vanilla, starting with my love for outside sex, which shouldn’t have been a surprise given from the age of three I’ve loved getting naked outdoors. I’d mainly fooled around with guys in their 20s and 30s until I hooked up with this nice guy in his late 40s. He was so kind when I admitted I didn’t really like to top, and explained to me I was a bottom. For someone known for a dirty mind, I’ve always had a naive side. After him, I started adding older guys to my mix of hook-ups because they had a lot of experience and didn’t mind showing a novice new tricks. So one day found me chatting online with a guy who sounded fun. He was older, not a muscle daddy but not bad looking. He said he liked to play for a while, no 10-minute fuck and go. He said he could get into outside play on his condo’s back deck if I would go for some WS. I had never tried it nor wanted to try it. But, if you cater to my kink, I’ll cater to yours. “Sure,” I said, if you don’t mind a first-timer. We decided to meet up the next morning and discussed a few details. He surprised me by asking if I minded coffee piss and if I would drink lots of coffee before coming to his house. He was really into the taste of coffee piss. Being inexperienced, I had assumed we were just going to piss together and on each other, like some little boys do before they are taught it’s wrong. Now I was being asked to drink? Outside play won out. I could bail if I didn’t like piss. As to the taste, once I was willing to try WS, I wasn’t going to hesitate over a lesser point. Could the taste really be a big deal? He told me to come over the next morning. It was a hot summer day, already in the 80s when I arrived about 10 o’clock in my usual tricking uniform, thin gym shorts and T-shirt, plus, of course, a fresh bottle of poppers. I was also full of coffee and had to piss really bad. He had told me how to get to his back deck. When I got there, I saw it was within view of at least two other condo units. I knocked on his sliding glass door. Dressed in just a thin robe, he let me in. We exchanged names and promptly forgot. “Why don’t we have another cup of coffee?” he suggested. I hoped the fun would justify how my bladder was hurting. He admitted he had never played on his back deck in daytime, just pissing on himself now and then after dark. “Are your neighbors home?” I asked. I was ready and wanted to get into what we had discussed. Plus I really had to piss. I felt like a little kid whose father won’t stop on a road trip. “Let’s go outside and see,” he said, adding the lady with a direct view of his deck was usually home but rarely went outside. The coast was clear, although I noticed the flower pots on the lady’s deck looked like they were tended daily. But I like the thrill that someone might see. To break the ice, he suggested we wet each other down with the water hose first. I quickly dropped my shorts and pulled off my T-shirt as he did the same. He grabbed the hose and let the water run over my chest, then my back and down my butt. I did the same to him. I was already getting excited. “I’ve got a bladder full of good coffee piss. Why don’t you get on your knees and drink some?” I had thought we would start with pissing on each other first, but of course I knelt down and took his cock in my mouth, savouring the sweet taste of his head and wrapping my arms around his hips. I started rolling my tongue around the head of his cock. I felt a little trickle of piss and let more of his cock in my mouth. I had swallowed plenty of cum and it didn’t seem that different—at first. Then he moved his cock in further as the trickle turned into what suddenly felt like a jet stream. As the piss flowed like a torrent, yes, I could taste the coffee in it. I wasn’t sure what to do so I swallowed as long as I could until I couldn’t keep up with the amount of piss he was feeding me. (I would like to think I could easily swallow it all now.) He was at that point where you just can’t stop. It kept coming and started to fill my mouth until I nearly choked, both on the piss and the strong taste, and had it all over my face. The painfully full sensation in my bladder added to the choking effect. He took his cock out of my mouth and said, “Stay down there and let me piss on you.” I grabbed the bottle of poppers and offered him some. He took a couple of strong hits, and I did the same. Oh my God, it’s hard to describe the feeling of being pissed on for the first time, and then it being outside. It felt so liberating and nasty at the same time, and my cock was hard. Finally his stream died down and then became a trickle again like at first. “Let’s switch places,” he said. Finally. My bladder was fucking killing me. I stood up and he knelt down and took my cock in his mouth. His eyes told me he was so looking forward to a good drink. But with my cock hard, I couldn’t piss. The more I tried, the more I couldn’t. The man was so patient. I was mortified and with my bladder was killing me so much, I was about to bail. Then a few dribbles came. Rather than it starting a stream, I seemingly dried up, his hungry thirsty eyes turning into disappointment. He released my cock. “Are you nervous? Would you rather come back another time?” “No, let’s try again, please.” I was loving the scenario. He took my cock in his mouth again and I tried. It just wasn’t happening. Then I remembered an old trick from a sailing trip I had taken with a bunch of straight guys. Both of us had trouble pissing off the boat in front of the others. I was desperate, and something was wrong with the boat’s toilet. As a last-ditch effort, I closed my eyes and imagined the tall urinal in the overheated bathroom I always used in high school at the same time every day. It worked that time. Would it work now? My host did a hit of poppers and handed to me. I did three good hits. Oh my God, the pounding of my heart as the sun started beating down on us made me feel primal. I kept my senses enough to imagine that high school urinal. It took maybe 10 seconds, but the dribble started again. My host was a pro and when I let loose a fast current of piss, he took it all down. The combination of heat and poppers had me lightheaded, but the piss continued. At one point he looked up at me as if to say, “Aren’t you finished?” The stream kept going at full force. Finally, I was able to get it to stop and pulled out. “You sure make up for a slow start,” he said. I hit the poppers again and then, while he was still kneeling, pissed all over his head, his face and his chest. It was so fucking hot, yet also natural, just pissing on someone outside in the sun, spinning a little from poppers. As soon as I finished, he stood up and we both started pissing on each other, almost as if our cocks were waterguns in battle. When our bladders drained and we stopped, mine felt full again. “Want to kneel down again?” I asked. I was turned on by the idea of pissing on his shaved head. I not only pissed all over the top but then aimed for his face, his mouth opening to drink a good bit, before I drenched his chest again. Coming to another stop, we swapped the poppers and I knelt down. First, he pissed all over my hair until it looked like I had just had a real shower. Next, he had me take his cock in my mouth for another feeding. That coffee piss was still strong but I drank it all that time. “Good boy,” he said. We exchanged piss one more time before we felt drained enough to rest a minute. He grabbed the hose and hosed me off, and I did the same for him. Not that I was ready to stop. I was loving every minute of being outside and went down on his cock, hungrily working his shaft while playing with his balls. He was getting close and then withdrew his cock. “Let me suck yours a while,” he said. I got up, took some hits of the poppers, and wow, I was really getting into being sucked on his condo deck in the middle of the day. He knew what he was doing and it wasn’t long before I blew a load down this throat. I said, “Let me finish you off,” but he assured me he had what he wanted. (These days, I’m of the same mind, being the bottom slut who gets off more by not cumming.) I put on my shorts and T-shirt, kissed him “thank you” and dared him to hose off his deck naked rather than putting on his robe. Even though we had rinsed off, I still smelled of piss aplenty, the first but not last time of getting into the car and suddenly thinking I hadn’t thought about driving home covered in piss. I’ve come a long way since then. I still love piss outside, but also let guys piss up my ass and everything else that WS pigs do when the timing is right.

Don't worry. You're on the right track. Keep up the good work.

Sounds fucking hot. Like most bottoms I dream of a top partner who makes me take lots of cock in addition to his, but would also be hot to have a versatile partner who would fuck me and let us get fucked together.

First Time Fucked I may have been a late bloomer, but deep down I’ve always known I was a slut. As a kid, I was obsessed with being naked. As I grew older, I suppressed all those feelings and was a bookish kid. At 16, I gave my best friend a blow job (loved the taste of cum) and immediately wanted to get fucked. He wasn’t up for that. My freshman year of college, I tried to play it straight, but when I fucked my girlfriend, something was wrong. She was neither kinky nor male. (If I was pretty clueless as to what kinky was, I at least knew I was perverted.) So I played around here and there, scared of the cruising spots, at least at first. I used to cruise around the post office late at night and several times blew a hot frat guy a block over in the woods. One spring I drove several hours to Washington, D.C., telling myself it was all about interviewing for an internship on Capitol Hill. Well, for the past three years I had seen ads in the Washington Post for the follies and other gay clubs on O Street, SE, and as soon as my interview was over, I headed straight for the old naval yard area. I was so naïve. It was about 3 in the afternoon, not exactly a time when gay places were hopping, and I walked into what looked like a sleazy place I had seen in ads. I paid the $20 fee and was buzzed into a place with plywood walls covered in graffiti depicting gay sex. I saw one guy. “Are you the only one here?” I asked with the callousness of a 20-year-old. He said there was a couple in a cubicle. I decided I hadn’t driven to DC for this. I walked out and, putting on my most altar-boy face, asked for a refund, saying, “I didn’t realise what it was.” I went to another club and ordered a beer, scared shitless I would run into someone I knew from back home. The bartender tried to be nice to the kid standing there in khakis and a button-down shirt. I went into a theatre area where they had a drag queen doing a little show and porn playing on another screen. A guy sat next to me and touched by leg. I was still scared shitless, although not scared enough to leave. Finally, I saw there was a door into a place called the Maze. I went for a quick round, got felt up and walked out. When I saw nobody seemed to care I had disappeared, I went back to the Maze. I wound to the end, found a dark corner, let a hot blonde guy, probably late 20s, suck me off, and then, like a dog, I was out of there and drove back to my college town. Later that spring, I was at the end of the town square on a Saturday afternoon and noticed this older guy (all of 35 or so) in a Mustang convertible driving back and forth on the cross street where the post office was. He was clearly cruising, so I finally followed him on foot to a parking space. We exchanged names; I think his was Tim. He asked if I wanted to go for a ride. I hopped in and he drove to the deserted end of a park. He pushed his seat back and unzipped his jeans. I did the same. He played with my cock a few seconds, but pretty quickly got me to working on his, moving from stroking him to sucking. He pulled out some poppers. “Nothing wrong with these if you don’t do them all the time.” I took two hits and next thing was deep throating him. It didn’t take him too long to shoot. We zipped up and he drove me back to town. I had a few more furtive encounters sucking guys, yet I still hadn’t been fucked. Once I tried to fuck a guy younger than me when I had the apartment to myself. I think I got in but the encounter was not a huge success. When graduation came, I was walking with my family to their hotel and saw the guy in the Mustang convertible cruising the same street where he had met just two weeks before. My heart started beating. I nodded. After leaving my parents I walked back to the street and next thing I saw his car pass before he stopped. “You have a place to go?” “No,” I replied I replied but I wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass. I was one of those gay church queens and had a key to the parish house of the town church. At 10 pm on a Saturday night it would be empty. He was game. So I let ourselves in and we went upstairs in the back wing to the senior high room. I hadn’t really seen him head-on before, but even in the dark I could see he was six feet tall and built like a construction worker, with a slightly rough face from old acne scars. The big belt buckle on his blue jeans and the smell of cigarettes made me think I was with the most masculine guy ever. We made out a little standing up and then he pushed me down to his crotch. Being the slut I am, I wanted to get naked before doing anything. Instead of guiding me back to his cock, however, he had me on the floor and started jacking my cock so I came quickly. Before I could think, he used his finger to lube my ass with my own cum, put a bottle of Rush under my nose (back when poppers were really good), threw up my legs and thrust his bare cock, about six inches but thick, right in. Soon he exploded up my ass, “Damn,” he said. “I didn’t mean to cum so fast.” He pulled up his pants as I got dressed and gave my ass a nice thank-you slap before we left. Although I never saw him again, not a week goes by that I don’t think about that first fuck, pretty vanilla by my standards today, but looking back was pretty hot and a good indication that I was destined to be a cum dump.

247 and more I hope to do.

I love getting naked and nasty and more at bookstores and would plan a trip to Florida to find a good one.

I am famous for saying, "I don't do flu shots, bicycle helmets or rubbers." I avoid safe-sex guys as much as possible, even just socially. My straight friends, however, get it. "Are you careful?" married cousins asked at lunch after church. I said, "Fuck no. Are you?" And we all laughed.

I've read through past posts but not sure of best place where guys can come in from street without checking in at desk or where company at 3 am won't cause a stir. Can tricks come and go at Washington Plaza or is there a better place? A dom Sir will be inviting whomever he sees fit. PM me if you prefer. Thanks.