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About JohnnyStGermaine

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  • Birthday 05/21/1981

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  • Gender
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  • Interests
    Raw fucking, watersports, BDSM, dad/son roleplay, flogging, other impact toys as well. Writing from the sheets, fighting in the streets.
  • HIV Status
    Neg, On PrEP
  • Role
  • Background
    Rustbelt punks don't really get old, we just get fat. And write porn.
  • Looking For
    Looking to fuck and get fucked. A BDSM play partner would be nice, but not necessary.

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  1. Pete had always loved his uncle Rob. Of course, now that he was a man grown, and their relationship had… changed... he'd taken to calling him Uncle Rub. The older man would use every opportunity to touch him. A firm hand on the shoulder. A soft, playful pat on the cheek, often in response to some smart ass comment. Pressing his crotch against his pert, twenty year old ass when trying to pass each other in the cramped hallway at the packing plant. Pete, of course, didn't mind. It drove him wild. Keeping himself from tearing the man's pants open to get at the giant sized
  2. New cities are rife with new opportunities to get off. That had been the primary motivation for Bruce to go to this boring convention in Cheyenne. The flight had been a really uncomfortable puddle jumper straight from Coeur d'aLene, but he’d had a decent night’s sleep in the hotel down the road from the convention center. The day had been filled with lectures, meet and greets with industry leaders and surprisingly good food. Thai food was hard to come by in his neck of the woods and Bruce was now thoroughly hooked. What was unsurprising was the degree of sexy guys he saw walking around. A
  3. I think I'll be transferring over some of my stories from a blog I kept on tumblr up until that site cracked down on everything that made it great. 

    I'm eternally grateful for Breeding.zone for creating a space where these kinds of stories can be told. 

    My true to life content, however, I'm not really sure where to post it on here and could use some suggestions.

  4. (this story originally appeared on my old tumblr blog sometime in 2014 or 2015, new edits applied) Steve knew this was going to be indelicate. As things often were when covering up his dumbass older brother’s mistakes. Fortunately, he had a set of keys to the vehicle that had been junked. All he had to do was talk his way into the junk yard. Easy as pie. He had grown up with Mr McAlister's son Gary and he might be able to pull the right string by bringing a bottle of Jameson. It didn’t go well. Turns out five years away at college can change a place, and the people in i
  5. (This story originally appeared in 2014 on my now defunct tumblr blog) I was in trouble. I was in very, deep, inescapable trouble. Here I was stranded on the side of the road, because I had ignored the last fuel for (x) number of miles signs back near Gallup. All told this was one of the worst places in America to run out of gas. The nearest town’s highlight was a trailer park full of Mormons and a crater from an ancient meteor strike. No fuel for dozens and dozens of miles. And it was getting dark. I popped the hood under the waning light, and opened the trunk; the
  6. Would love to hear more of what was surely an awesome night!
  7. The font color is making this difficult to read.
  8. Having been raised Christian and then follow a neo-pagan path I can certainly understand how fetishizing a toxic concept, like sin, can sap it of its destructive power and become a source of strength, or creation. In that regard, let me share my deepest wish. I wish to be led into a wooded glen, with a small campfire burning, and made to kneel. I will be tied to metal stakes in the ground and fucked. Over and over and over again. Man after man breeding my guts with their collective seed, and as each man cums I send an oath to Frey, the Norse god of fucking, of dicks, and of manhood.
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