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All the guys knew Rodney was too long a name and they called him Rod from the time he was a little tyke. Now, Rod was a big boy 6'5" of solid football muscle. Two big universities were wooing him. A few of his teammates wanted to woo him. But, there were also fans who got moon faced over seeing him on the field, in town, at his job in the hardware store, and at church on Sunday mornings and evenings and Wednesday evenings. Rod was the guy fathers wanted to find to marry their daughters. Solid, upright, and so handsome. All thru football season, Rod kept his thick blond hair close cropped. His blue eyes were stunning, even when seen thru the face guard of the football helmet. He had been First Junior escort his Junior Year and Homecoming king this year. With football season over, Rod let his hair grow out, He loved having it very long. He went to his mom's hairdresser to keep it neat, but never really cut it. It was his sign, his symbol. He saw himself as Garrett, the spear bearer of mythology. Others saw him that way too. During football season Garrett always worked out in the school weight room. It was well-equipped, had a sauna, and whirlpool. But when football was over, he headed to the local gym. It was better equipped and he got a special deal as where Rod went, others followed. The owner knew Rod would bring in many memberships. So, Rod got the use of the place for free. Every afternoon, he would appear, work out, shower and head to work at the hardware store. Mr Higgins trusted Rod implicitly giving him the key, making him the manager after 5. Rod didn't have a lot of business in the evenings so he was able to do homework and study. There was wifi to facilitate ordering and checking new products. So Rod was able to play on his laptop as well. A couple of his buddies would drop by to check homework and shoot the breeze. Mr Higgins never minded as long as Rod would take care of the few customers who did come in. It became almost a routine. He had the closing system down to a science. He would lock the main door. Go in the back room to check delivery doors, start turning out lights, make sure no water was running in the john, lock the door to the back room, start turning out lights in the front making sure the security remained on, set the alarm, and let himself out, locking the front doors. He would walk the 6 blocks home, carrying his computer, book bags, and gym bag. When he got home, he would have his supper, kept warm by his loving mom, tell her about his day. Go into the living room and talk with his dad about sports and life, then head upstairs to his bedroom. In that quiet room, he would strip off all his clothes, move to his private bathroom, brush his teeth, take a much needed piss. Only odd thing was, he'd start his piss in a glass, measured 4 oz, then finish in the toilet. Then he would drink that piss down, usually strong as he hadn't pissed since noon. Licking his lips, he would turn out the bathroom light. His prayers were long, but fervent. Lying down, he would take his cock in his right hand and fall asleep holding it. Rod was unusual for sure as he would awaken in the same position he went to sleep in. Cock always rock hard after tantalizing dreams. He needed no alarm cock. Years of routine had made him a regular early riser. That routine was the same in the morning, take a crap, shower, piss in the glass, exactly 4 ounces, piss in the toilet, drink the strong morning piss, comb is hair, admiring how much longer it was getting, checked the progress of hair on his chest, treasure trail and bush, bend over to see his ass growing fur in the mirror, and get dressed. Rod hated underwear. He only wore it in they gym or at football so he would have dirty underwear for the wash. So, shirt, khakis, no socks, and beef roll penny loafers. With pants losing pleats and going flat front, commando was harder to manage, but Rod refused to wear underwear and didn't own a jock. He loved the free feeling. Breakfast, brush teeth, kiss mom and off to school completed the routine. He never checked his messages until he was in the car. There were always a few. Today was one from Coach Jameson. There would be a scout to see him at one. He should pickup his pass before school, be excused from class and meet them in the conference room in the athletic department. Well, he just might get a good scholarship, he thought. This might be a great day after all. More to come. I hope you like the beginning. It will get very nasty with chems

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I had never known about trucker bombs. Well, I read about them, but never really understood until I entered a stall at a truck stop and found a 2 liter bottle of beautiful yellow-orange fluid. Truckers often have to go a long time between stops and use such bottles to allow them to piss while still moving. I know authorities frown on the practice, like texting, yet they do it. Some toss them in the trash. One was kind enough to leave the bottle right there in the stall. I picked it up and discovered it had been pissed on, and the floor was wet. I used toilet tissue to dry it, making sure it didn't leak. That sweet bottle was 3/4 full. I had to smell it. I opened the lid carefully and took a whiff. It was some strong stuff. I wondered about the taste. Should I sample and leave the bottle for others? Should I take it? It was a decision. It wasn't long before I secreted the bottle in my bag, took it to the car. Found another bottle in the trash. Yes, I dug for it. I went the back into the stall, and instead of pissing in the pot, I pissed in the bottle. I left it as a gift since I was stealing the precious fluid. After driving an hour, I could no longer control my urges. I drive off on a side road where I found a country lane. Out of sight of the main road, I parked. I took my first drink of that bottle. Oh, it was nice. I realized I should have shaken it up first. So, I recapped the bottle, shook it up, and had another drink, stronger this time as the salts had been moved around. After the third drink, I capped the bottle and drove on home. Now, I check every stall in the restrooms. In hopes to find more, I check every truck stop that I pass. If any truckers read this, please donate your piss, don't pour it out. I know that I'm addicted and want you to help me and all the other addicts.

I'd take Usher's cock.

even better than blindfold is sensory deprivation hood

My cousins introduced me to sex. It started bare and stayed bare.

I'd give it all up for Ethan Wolfe.

Ever since high school sports, ever since my first whiff of the locker room, I have loved the manly smell of sweaty junk. It makes me even hornier than usual. A sweaty hairy crotch, cock and balls makes me ready to beg. I played football, basketball, and baseball in high school. Then baseball in college. It never changed. I had to have cock after that locker room.

I love wearing a sensory deprivation hood and offering my ass to all cummers

I started life as a total top. It wasn't until I met my ex that I even bottomed. He taught me the joys of anal sex, taking his big dick. He kept me in chastity. The only way I could orgasm was thru being fucked. I learned that the anal orgasm can be amazing. Now, I only bottom. The ex is gone and I look for cock every day. The cage is gone too, but I still love that anal orgasm most

Mike Matters to me.

Now, that is more than any one man can ask for.

By all means

My first time was bare. It was from cousin. Later a HS bud gave me his cock to suck and finally fucked me, but with condom. I hate condoms, only want bare cock

Boy4you, you hit the nail on the head with the natural outgrowth of a whore

I'd live in Berlin if the winters weren't so damned cold