RotzBBengel
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Everything posted by RotzBBengel
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Sometimes, when looking at the intricacies of this whole dating game, I feel like the sense of it totally escapes me.
Why all this fuss?
You spend hours chosing the right clothes. And to what end?
Only to incite your counterpart to rip them off your body as quickly as he can...
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I've never been overly interested in sports. What could be more boring than watching marathoners running in circles for hours on end, I thought.
But that was until...
...I spontaneously acquired a liking for the outdoors...
...and all the sweat-inducing activities that take place there.
If that's what a long-distance run looks like...
...I'd go to considerable length to take part in one...
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You've got no idea just how much I want it...crave it...need it...
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Oh Jeez ... you are such a fucking whore Rotz
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Me too Rotz, craving that poz dick
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My big bro always needs a cold shower after frolicking around with me...
Always a curious kid, I peeked into the bathroom and thought: if that's what his dick looks like under a cold shower, I'd love to take a hot one together with him...
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Ill help lather up?
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I awoke to total darkness, lying on the hard ground, naked and freezing, unable to move my hands and feet. It took me a while to realize that someone must have tied my wrists and ankles. The room smelled of piss and sweat and sex. It seemed like there was semen everywhere.
There were voices - deep, manly voices - and salacious laughter. Then I felt hands all over my body, big calloused hands running up my thighs and rudely squeezing my buttcheeks, fondling my teendick and even prodding my virgin boyhole. I didn't dare to speak, but when first one and then two fingers were forced up my tight rectum, I couldn't help but whimper, causing the men surrounding me to laugh even louder.
And when finally somebody removed the black hood that had blocked my view, I looked up and just knew I was in big trouble...
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Gay guys are all the same. We're all travelling down the same road.
But some of us - the especially lucky ones, IMHO - may have taken a shortcut on the way...
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Just wish I'd known you from nursery age Rotz ... we could have conquered the world together!
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Yeah, that's what I've been thinking a lot myself lately, reading your salacious posts...
Some guys just happen to be on the same wavelength...
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I had been attracted to Uncle Chad all my life. But being alone with him always felt so awkward. Don't get me wrong, he's really fun to be around. The problem was, I just couldn't stop myself from looking at his impressive bulge.
I was totally taken aback when one day - he had just caught me staring at his crotch again - he pulled down his shorts, presenting his massive, rock-hard mancock to my wide-eyed gaze.
"So tell me, kiddo - have you ever had an AIDScock shoved up your cute little boypussy?"
Too shy to speak, I just shook my head 'no', my cheeks flushed with embarassment.
"What a shame, boy. I'm sure, you'd like it a lot. What do you think, would you like to give it a try?"
Too embarassed to answer this surreal question, I couldn't utter a single word. But I'm sure my body language said it all...
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Hey Fist
Just in case you wondered what your naughty posts make me feel...
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Oooooh .... nice!
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To remove any remaining doubts...
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Everybody can do a good deed, guys.
Like feeding the hungry.
And sometimes doing good will even pay off...
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I'd so love that!!
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Absolutely ?
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Nothing makes a kid look cuter than a fat cock stretching his boymouth...
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A father's most important task? That's simple: helping his son to find his place in life...
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Lucky boy?
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Shut the fuck up, bitch! Hasn't your momma taught you not to speak with your mouth full?!?
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In a world ravaged by war and civil strife, the importance of cultural diplomacy can't be estimated highly enough.
It includes the exchange of ideas, information, art and other aspects of culture among nations and their peoples in order to foster mutual understanding - and making your contribution is as easy as ABC...
And just in case you wondered: yes, ABC stands for Awesome Black Cock
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When my youngest son told me he wanted to volunteer at a refugee camp, I encouraged him as best I could. I thought that working there might help expanding his horizons.
As things turned out, the only thing that didn't get expanded was his horizon...
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Okay, boys. Here's another borrowed word you might like to integrate into your vocabulary.
Now all of you repeat after me: EMBARRAS DE CHOIX.
And here's what it means...
But be careful with your choice of words, boys: brushing up your French is not the same as giving somebody a French polishing...
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YOU: "...FUUUCK...your cock is making me feel all...FUUUCK..."
HE: "I'm really getting close, bitch. Want me to pull my pozdick out now?"
YOU: "FUUUCK...NO!...PLEASE KEEP GOING...OH FUUUCK..."
HE: "So you want me to shoot my bug right into your worthless sluthole, bitch?"
YOU: "FUUUCK...NO! PLEASE DON'T...OH FUUUCK..."
HE: "What do you want me to do then, you stupid slut?"
YOU: "...FUUUCK..."
HE: "Okay, so fuck it will be, you dirty little cumbucket!"
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That moment when his fat bare cock hits your prostate just right, when words turn to "hngh...hngh...hngh" and your eyes start rolling back into your head...
The smacking sound of his heavy low-hangers slapping against your own balls make you think of how he promised you to play safe, that he'd just dip the first inch or so of his huge dick into your hole and hold it there for a little while, just to see how it'd feel, that he'd pull out in time and squirt his bugjuice over your back instead. All you had to do is ask for it. You know he's close, he just told you so. But right now, with your own balls pulling up without even having touched your dick, your pussy seems to have developed a mind of ist own and you can't possibly imagine a way of telling him to back out. His fat AIDScock jackhammering your tender mancunt just feels too fucking good...
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Just dumped my POZload into that lil slut - and the stupid bitch has no idea...
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A joy that's shared is a joy made double...
Now that's what I call MOUTHWATERING...
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Please don't get me wrong, I do believe that when asked about your status, you should always answer truthfully, no matter whether you're POZ or NEG. And in case you don't know for sure or just don't care, be open about it and tell it like it is. We know there are bugchasers out there. But there are probably less of them than one might think when reading all those stories about bugchasing we love so much about breeding.zone. What we tend to forget is that they are just that - stories. To many gay guys frequenting this website, bugchasing is a mere fantasy, not a lifestyle. And those lewd stories nothing but an outlet, a safe alternative to actually turning their dirty dreams into reality. Most gay guys, even among us barebackers, undoubtedly don't want to get infected with HIV or any other STD. But that's exactly why all those tales about having been victimized by stealth pozzers don't ring true for me. If you're really serious about not getting the bug, then why don't you just go on PrEP, adhere closely to your drug regimen and fuck happily ever after? Sure, this safe road to bareback paradise might be blocked for some. Like the "straight", happily married father of four who's only that happily married because every now and then he can blow off some steam with his bare daddydick ballsdeep inside the teenaged ass of a boy not older than his own youngest son and who can't take the risk of his wife intercepting a revealing letter from their health insurance. But then again, an alledgedly straight guy like him, who got knocked up while bent over a cum-crusted padded sawhorse in the back of a dingy darkroom, getting barebacked by a total stranger he didn't even care to ask for his name, or maybe while marinating his mancock in multiple anonymous loads, churning the butter inside the cum-dripping pussy of a slutty kid young enough to be his own, is probably not in the position to credibly accuse someone else of being untruthful. But what about all the others then, "ordinary" gay guys that claim they don't want to catch anything, but still rather build on the assertions of men they've never met before and will probably never meet again than going on PrEP and being on the safe side? It could all be so simple, you might think, but seemingly it is not. But how come? Maybe because the appeal of going bareback, especially with a stranger, not only depends on bodily sensations, the mind-blowing feeling of skin-on-skin anal sex but even more so on the unique thrill that comes with that same risk everybody claims to avoid as best as they can. We need that risk of catching something, the possibility of being lied at, of being stealthed, of being pozzed to get off, because it raises the intensity of sex to new, formerly unknown levels. Why else has the intensity of the bareback sex you have with your monogamous partner of fifteen years waned shortly after you decided to dump those rubbers, while the anonymous bare tryst you had in that dimly-lit back alley behind the bar, the way that hairy, leather-clad brute fucked you mercilessly against the rough brickwall (while your unsuspecting hubby was sitting at the counter, sipping his beer, waiting for you to return from the restroom) still give you goosebumps every time you think of it? And why has breeding your partner's ass suddenly become exciting again afterwards? I think we all know the answer, don't we?!? So why do we rather rely on what total strangers tell us than going on PrEP? Because going on PrEP would make sex boring again, almost as boring as sex with condoms. We don't want to get stealthed in reality. But we need the (if only faint) possibility of getting stealthed, because for some reason it turns us on tremendously...
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Sorry guys, but I don't believe in victimization. Us gay guys have been victimized by others way too long to keep perpetuating this state ourselves. Shouldn't we take responsibility for our own actions instead, since those are the only ones we can actively control? If I decide to get into that sling and let others use me as their cumdump, I have to be aware that this decision is fraught with certain risks. More than thirty years after the outbreak of AIDS, knowing those risks is not some kind of secret lore anymore. So I have to be honest to myself and face the question why I am lying in that sling in the first place. I know this risky behavior is highly unreasonable and delegating accountability is not going to make it appear any more sane. Men have been lying in order to get their rocks off for as long as mankind exists, and for most of that time there was no such thing as protection. All men love to dump their loads into a tight, receptive hole and some (mostly gay) men also love to be on the receiving end. AIDS hasn't changed this innate need for complete, unbridled connectedness and, trust me, it never will. I know that some men will do whatever it takes to plant their seed (no matter if POZ or NEG) securely into another guy's guts and ignoring this knowledge won't get me anywhere. Let's finally be honest to ourselves: there is no safe way of being a cumdump for random strangers' cocks! IMO, people who believe that shifting responsibility to somebody else will free them from all liabilities are terribly wrong. Because there are two decisions to be taken into account: that stranger's decision to tell a lie and my decision to buy it. And the fact that he's responsible for his decision doesn't mean that I am no longer responsible for mine. When I know the possible side-effects of my actions and feel like I couldn't live with them, then what the fuck am I doing in that sling anyway?!? The answer to that is simple: I am there for a reason. And that reason is my innate need for feeling fat bare mancocks pounding my fuckchute skin-on-skin and drenching my insides in their reproductive fluids. I'm lying in that sling because I want...I need cock. A lot of cock. And cum. As much of it as all those strangers can possibly muster. And if the only way of reaching this state of cum-drenched nirvana is buying their lies, then I'll happily do just that. And that willingness is my fault alone, not theirs. It's really as simple as that. So instead of blaming others for things we should have stopped them from doing in the first place, let's just embrace our carnal needs - with all the risks that come with them. Because lying in that sling with my eyes rolled back into my head and my fuckhole twitching uncontrollably while a total stranger is pounding my cum-slick, worn-out boycunt with deep, relentless strokes of his gnarled, uncut daddydick, the wet smacking of flesh hitting flesh filling my ears, I honestly couldn't care less about his status. After all, that's what good sex should be all about: switching off your brain and forgetting about the world, totally surrendering to the mind-blowing tingle of your fuckhole's supersensitive nerve endings. And yes, of course there are risks - some of them quite severe - but getting used as a cumdump by a room-full of hirsute, bearded, well-hung strangers until I reach the happy, careless state of cum-fueled oblivion will always outweigh any risk that might occur in the process of getting there.
