RotzBBengel

MY FIRST EVER VISIT TO A GAY SAUNA PART I I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my slender waist. It had taken a while to clean me out properly, but I didn't want to take any risks on my first ever visit to a gay sauna. Now I was squeaky-clean on the inside up to my chin. Well, almost up to my chin. I was nervous as hell and tried to calm myself down. Don't worry. The worst thing that can happen to you is that they throw you out of the sauna the moment you cross the threshold. And you know that chances are high that this moron Chris was just telling stories. One week ago Chris, a boy from the neighborhood, had come over for one of our regular jerk off sessions. He kept bragging about sneaking into a gay sauna and finally dared me to try the same. I knew that he was most probably lying, but I just couldn't let him call me a pussy. I moved over to my bedroom and stopped in front of my mirrored wardrobe to take a look around. A while ago, I got tired of my old Transformers wallpaper. Don't get me wrong, I loved it, at least in the beginning, but I guess I'd just grown out of this stuff. So I did my best to hide it with posters showing my favourite soccer players - most of them shirtless- and now the walls were covered with pictures of Christiano Ronaldo and David Beckham. He'd always been my favourite. Can't tell you how many times I jerked off thinking of Becks' perfect abs. I even managed to get a Freddie Ljungberg poster, one of those he did for CK, you know. Love his chiselled cheekbones. The walls were plastered with half-naked men. I took in the scenery. Hard to believe my parents never suspected anything. Well, maybe they did. But this was not the time to worry about that. I had other things to do. My parents were gone for the weekend, leaving the house to me, and I was going to make the most of it. I turned back to the wardrobe, watching my reflection on the mirrored doors intently, running my hands over my flat tummy, my fingers circling the compartments of my sixpack, then trailing down the deep middle cleft until they reached my cute belly button. I grinned. Becks, you better watch out. Dropping the towel, I turned around and grabbed my firm asscheeks, pulling them apart to reveal my hairless crack and pink hole. It was reddened and gaped slightly after the thorough enema . Very nice, I thought, but this is not gonna get you inside. The problem was my face. No, I'm no troll, thank you! But one look at my face convinced me that this was not going to work like this. My mom has always called me her little imp and with those pouty lips, green eyes, snub nose and the mop of red curly hair, I looked just a tad too cute and innocent for my purpose. Maybe a baseball cap would do the job. Well, at least it covered most of those curls and the peak shadowed my face. Pull it down some more, no time for vanity here. And now give me a stern look, I know you can do it. I tried to look as mean as I could. I really did, but my pathetic attempts just had me snorting with laughter. Well, fuck it. Then the cap will have to suffice. Now get dressed. No, not that shirt. No Transformers today. Better borrow some stuff from Dad's wardrobe, and put it back before he knows what happened. And here I was, standing in a narrow side street, the iron door to the gay sauna just across from me. No idea if this was intended, but it sure looked intimidating to me. I checked left and right. No one around, so if you really want it, then this is the time. I crossed the street and stopped in front of the grey door. My hands were sweating profusely. Ring the bell, moron. The sudden sound of the buzzer made me jump. Push. I pushed. The reception was not nearly as run-down as the outside had promised. Or as depraved as I had expected. Disappointment crept into my mind. This didn't look like the den of iniquity from Chris' story. Not at all. Actually, it looked more like the kitchen of a hospital or something: chrome and white tiles everywhere. "Can I help you?" asked a deep, friendly voice. I jumped again. From across the tiled counter, a tall, muscular man in his 40s or maybe 50s was looking at me, his intense grey eyes scanning my body, trying to size me up. Being only 5' 7'' myself, most guys seem tall to me, but this specimen easily measured 6' 4''. And he was packing muscles. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, impressive pecs that stretched the fabric of his muscle shirt nicely. What struck me most was that though very muscular, he still looked lean, more like a long-distance runner than a body-builder. There was not an ounce of fat on him and thick veins travelled down his forearms and onto the back of his big hands. His face looked ascetic, almost like that of a hermit. Piercing grey eyes deep in their sockets, overshadowed by bushy eyebrows, prominent cheekbones and somewhat hollow cheeks. He was bald, but the rest of his body more than made up for the lack of hair on top of his head. The lower half of his face was covered by a neatly trimmed beard, black with some grey in it, accompanied by a bushy mustache long enough to hide his lips from my view. There was a dense layer of coarse salt-and-pepper fur on his pecs as well and his strong arms were hairy all over, from his wrists up to his shoulders. His shirt was damp from the warm, humid air and clang to the guy's skin, clearly showing the outlines of his big, pointy nipples. There were sweat marks at the armholes and suddenly I realized that I could actually smell his rich, manly scent. My hole twitched in response and, as if sensing my thoughts, the guy whose face had been totally free of expression until now smirked at me, showing his big, white teeth for the first time. "Hi, my name's Harry. So again, can I help you?" With that he reached out his big, furry paw. I took a deep breath. Ok, now don't ruin it. Deep voice, stern look. I stepped up to the counter and we shook hands. "Nice to meet you, I'm Kevin," I said in my deepest voice. Stern look, I reminded myself. That's when I realized that from my new position closer to the counter I had a perfect view of his tight-fitting gym shorts and the huge bulge they tried to conceal. I had seen a cock or two before. Well, three actually. But those had been the dicks of boys my own age and whatever was waiting behind this thin layer of cotton went far beyond my limited experience. I stared. I gawked. Maybe I even salivated, but I can't tell for sure. My recollection is somewhat blurred. "Your first time in here?", Harry asked with an amused tone in his voice. "Hm?" I clearly had my mind on other things. I was staring at his crotch and it must have felt the attention, because the bulge was heaving , shifting and finally snaking down the leg of his adidas shorts. I licked my lips absent-mindedly. The tip of his cock would be appearing any second now. That's when Harry coughed loudly. My head shot up and I blushed. Moron, moron, moron. Congratulations, well done. Your gonna get yourself kicked out of here. "Your first time in here? Don't think you've been here before, at least not on my shift. A cutie like you wouldn't have escaped my attention." He winked at me and I cracked a smile. So much about the stern look, moron. I blushed again. "But this might not be your day of the week" Harry added questioningly. "We're having our 'Twinks Night' on Saturdays, so maybe you'd rather wait until the weekend instead. At the moment there's quite a lot of business in there" he motioned to the door next to the counter that apparently led to the locker room and whatever was waiting behind it. "But it's mostly guys like me, you know, old and hairy and bearded and most of us are...well, don't mind, so if that's not what you came here for...", his voice trailed off. "Nooo", I said, maybe a little too enthusiastically. "If all of them are only half as hot as...uh, I mean...I really like older guys...like you." Harry gave me one last, questioning look, as if he was mulling something over inside his head, but then he shrugged it off and guided me through the procedure, handed me a towel, a pair of flip-flops and the key to my locker. "You find little sachets of lube over there. Condoms, too, if need be." I nodded my head fiercely. Finally something I was 100% sure of in these strange surroundings. After all we'd discussed that at school more than once. "You should always use condoms", I said with deep conviction. He just shrugged his shoulders. "Most guys in here don't think so. Fucking feels way better without a rubber, they say." They don't use condoms? I was honestly shocked. But Harry interrupted my thoughts. "Listen, Kevin. My shift is ending in 20 minutes. My buddy Carl should be arriving any minute to replace me. What about I give you the tour and show you around a bit once I'm off duty?" I think, he must have misinterpreted my incredulous look, because he raised one of his furry eyebrows. "Only if you want me to, of course." I gulped. Keep it cool, don't seem too eager, moron. "Sure, that would be nice." "Okay, when you exit the locker room, you gotta turn right and follow the hallway until you reach the jacuzzi. Why don't you get inside the tub and relax for a while and I'll meet you there as soon as Carl arrives. I nodded my approval, grabbed my stuff and entered the locker room. As soon as Harry was out of sight, I slumped against the wall and exhaled deeply. I was inside the sauna and no one had asked for my ID. Not even mentioned it. A smile of relief spread across my face, slowly turning into a broad grin. Harry would join me in the tub and maybe he'd do a lot more with me... When the boy disappeared behind the corner, Harry reached under the counter and produced a bottle of lubricant and a Ziploc filled with a white powder. The lube had already been laced with T, but in this case he'd better increase the dose. Kevin was cute as a button, but the kid seemed way to strict about safer sex. Harry couldn't stand fundamentalists. Sometimes they just needed to be outwitted. When Carl, a goateed redhead in his mid-40s with a burly, hirsute body and a fat, veiny cock, finally arrived, Harry was leaning against the counter, staring into the air with a wicked grin all across his face . "Hey, Harry, what's up?" Carl yelled to shake his colleague out of his daydream. The two men greated each other with a big bear-hug. They'd been buddies for almost two decades now and over the years they had shared quite a number of boy-bottoms. Or at least for the first fifteen years of their friendship. This came to a sudden halt, when first Carl and later Harry as well were tested HIV-positive. While HAART had no side effects on Carl, Harry's libido pretty much zeroed. He just couldn't get it up anymore. And watching Carl fucking a boy and licking his buddy's poz-cum from the kid's gaping boycunt afterwards didn't seem to make for a long-distance solution. Their relationship deteriorated day by day and when they stopped talking to each other completely, they realized that there was only one alternative that worked for them. The next morning both men stopped taking their meds. And never looked back. Not only had their sex life gone back to normal. The two of them seemed to be hornier than ever before in their life. Sometimes the mere thought of what was brewing inside their balls brought them close to the edge of cumming. Harry had always been a "dripper," but making an unaware teenboy beg for his load had him dripping toxic precum like your proverbial faucet. And the knowing look on Harry's face when the boyhole started making those telltale squishy noises every time he rammed his fat cock home was just priceless. Happy like a pig in the mud. How Carl had longed to see his buddy like this during the difficult years. Harry was all that counted for him, fuck the boys. Literally. PART II in the making (let me know which direction you'd like the story to take)

Being in one of their movies is definitely a fantasy of mine, but honestly I don't think that, still being negative, I really stand a chance. Of course they state to be all "don't ask, don't tell", after all that's part of their image and what makes their flicks so exciting, but sometimes I doubt that ANY of those bottoms was still negative while getting bred or even gangbred in front of their cameras. Not to mention the tops. Maybe I'm wrong, but I think that Paul Morris prefers to leave taking risks to others and having a young man converted on one of his shoots and getting sued for it afterwards would be too much of a risk for him... And insisting on getting fucked by negative tops only would noticeably limit the selection of suitable partners...

Hey guys, didn't mean to ruin the atmosphere What i was trying to say was: if you feel like shooting your pozcum into a young teen boy, than just say it. I know a lot of you would like to. And I'm sure there's more than one boy out there (or on here?) that would be happy to spread his legs for your hot pozcocks

That's the way EVERY boy should have his hole ruined. The younger the better...

Fuck, never thought this could get any better than parts one and two. But it did for sure. Got me drooling big time. :drool:

Congrats, rawrawraw!!! That's some fucking hot stuff!!! Can't wait to read PART III. And I think I'm not the only one Love, Felix

Fucking hot! Love poz fiction, don't get me wrong, but good to know those things happen in real life, too

Fuckin hot! I need a cock!! Now!!!

Considering that this site is all about "breeding", I guess that most of you guys are either POZ or on your way to becoming POZ. In that case, "your dick" equals "your POZ dick". That established, would you really fuck a naive 13y.o. boy's virgin throat with your grown up POZ cock, reaming it out and getting it all sore before flooding it with your (at least potentially) contagious cum? Sure, there are a lot of curious boys out there (and I was one of them), but some if not most of them aren't even aware of the risks they are taking. As a kid of 13 I would have gladly sucked any grown man's cock waved into my direction, but still I believe it's too easy to say "The kid wanted it.", when expecting a responsible decision from a hormone driven underage boy is obviously expecting way too much of him. When the kid is not able to calculate the consequences, you as an adult should do on his behalf. Just my opinion.

I've always been a BIG fan of T.I.M. and I check out their homepage regularly. I was surprised (to say the least) to find that they have a new (and kinda irritating) model application form. Now they not only ask for your HIV status, Hep and other STDs, they also wanna know whether you "Are[...]comfortable engaging in sex acts with partners who may have a different HIV status than yourself?" or not. But I almost laughed my ass off, when I found this one: "Do you perform bareback? [] Yes [] No" Right now I feel like I spent the last year under a rock. Can anybody tell me what's happened at T.I.M.? Have they been sued or something? So if anyone has some background information on this, please let me know. I'm really confused and have no idea what to make of this. Love,...Felix

Hi rawTOP, I think you really have a point there. But still I wonder, if (at least with some of those young boys seeking anonymous, unprotected sex with total strangers sometimes four or five times their own age) it could be just the other way around? We (i.e. the society) always talk about poor, innocent boys getting molested by "predatory older men" that selfishly push those kids into a direction they would have never taken on their own. But what if some boys (and I believe myself to be one of those few) are not forced into anonymous promiscuous sex by circumstances, but actually born with that urge that drives them into the arms of bearded, hairy, muscular "Daddies". As for myself, I know that I embarassed my mother again and again by climbing onto the lap of each and every (male) stranger that visited our house, cuddling up to them, even at an age where I was supposed to be "too old for that". But I just liked their male scent, the way their furry forearms felt against my smooth skin and I kept wiggling around on their lap, not to find a comfortable position, but because of the condition it brought some of those guys into, or I would steady myself on their thighs, just to "accidently" brush against their bulges. And some of them obviously knew what they had in hands with me. So maybe those boys (or at least some of them) have not been dragged into perversion by the "predatory older men" you mentioned, but actually just found a fatherly friend who saw their potential or what they were meant to be, maybe from the day they were born, and helped them to find their way in life. I know this is a controversial point of view, but still it might be worth thinking it over. All I can say is that I never felt "abused" when sucking much older strangers cocks as a young boy.

Great story, hotload84!!! Had my boycunt twitching instantly

Hey rawemobttm, hope you're not through with Adam already. I can tell that the boy needs more - more drugs, more cocks, more loads, especially charged ones. Maybe Dean and Jack should not only play with his hole but also manipulate his mind until the kid can no longer imagine a life without POZcum dripping from his ravaged boycunt!

No harm done, I'd say. After all it's about your health, not theirs. And if you do that regularly, it won't matter anymore soon enough, anyway.

Depends on the quality of the loads you and your friend(s) left inside his closeted mancunt ;-) "POZ" would be nice, the "O" replaced by a biohazard-symbol. You could place the "P" on his left asscheek, the "Z" on the right one and the bio-symbol inbetween, his knocked up fuckhole serving as the center of it...

Hairy Muscle Bears, for sure. Always been attracted to those really masculine guys that seem to ooze testosterone. Maybe because from a very young age, around 4 or 5 years old, I knew that I'd never be one of them. It's the difference in our bodies that turns me on most. I'm quite small and slender, blond and blueeyed, smooth all over with a rather small, boyish cock. The guy that will have me drooling almost instantly is the total opposite of that: at least twice my age, tall, muscular, bearded, lots of dark or salt-and-pepper bodyhair (the more the better) with a fat, swarthy, uncut, veiny, purpleheaded Daddydick to abuse my holes. Sometimes I feel like I deserve to be abused for not living up to my dads expectation of me becoming one of them and that to get fucked and bred by those guys is my only chance to get inside their world, if only for a short time.

I was 15. Messed around with some buddies before that, but they wouldn't fuck me, because they thaught that was too gay. But I lived close to a big sex shop. They had two entrances, the main one at the front, next to the counter, and one in the back, where you could enter from the parking lot, that led directly to the porn cinema and a row of video booths. And though they had video surveillance, if you were quick enough, with a lot of luck you could get inside and slip into one of the booths without anyone knowing you were there. Once inside, I would leave the door ajar, insert some coins, search for bb porn, get out of my shorts and start fingering my hole. Usually it wouldn't take long, until a guy was spying into the booth, rubbing his crotch and waiting for me to ask him inside. And from the porn I was watching it wasn't hard to guess what I was up to...Of cause, most times I didn't get that far, they caught me and threw me out, but the few times I got lucky, I went home with an ass full of mancum...

@2young2horny: Wow, that sounds like loads of fun, LOL No doubt you enjoyed yourself to the max )) Wish something like that happened to me... Never had problems with that age-issue? Found that many (esp older) guys love the thought of breeding a really young one, but when they actually saw how small and slender and, well, young I was, most shyed away and told me to get back to them a couple of years later...

I think this is way too much connected to a guy's personal taste to generalize. As for myself, I'd never go for a guy younger than 40 (which is more than twice my own age) and I had the best bare sex of my life so far with a furry salt-and-pepper daddy in his early sixties. But I didn't want to get fucked by him just because of or despite his age, but because he was tall and muscular and hairy and goateed and had a fat, uncut 8incher. I guess at the end of the day we're all superficial one way or the other. In my opinion, age is just a number - a number among many others, and it's up to you, whether you go for age, or cocksize, or weight, or bodyheight, or...