Need2submit

It was love at first taste for me. I feel like such a slut with a hard cock blowing up inside my mouth and I savor every drop.

That little trick got a great treat...

Ugh, late night typo. “Cigar BEAR”, not “Cigar DAD”. I’m an idiot.

It’s been a while, and I apologize for the wait, but here it is... Part 7. As I crossed from the harsh light of the store into the theater, my eyes were blurred both by the dark room and the cooling, but still sticky cum that had worked its way down my forehead. It was hard to piece together what I was seeing, but it seemed like a mass of men were standing around faced toward my naked body. Once fully out of the light, a door slid closed behind me and a sharp click pinged in my ears. Until that moment, I didn’t even know the theater had a door, let alone one that locked. At nearly the same time, as I was about to turn to the sound, a hand gripped my shoulder and a hot wave of tobacco smoke washed over me. It was him and there was no mistaking it. “You did a good job listening so far,” he said in a harsh whisper into my hear, more smoke winding by, caught in the stray light of the projected scene of a twink in a sling. “I needed you to prove yourself. Prove TO yourself, that you are the gutter slut you barely could imagine. Right now, you’re going to learn how far you’re willing to go.” He laughed a bit and I felt his other arm slide over my shoulder and press the warmth of the knurled bowl of his pipe into my ribs, just below my hardening nipple. “I brought some friends from the club for this little encounter. It’s a holiday party, and your ass is our present to ourselves.” As soon as those words left his mouth, he firmly gripped the skin of my neck between his teeth, his goatee delivering a shiver down my body. “Holiday party?” I dimly thought to myself. “What holiday?” I wasn’t that deep into gay culture so I couldn’t be sure if this was something I was supposed to know. I got lost in that particular thought for a bit until I felt his hands grab me hard, digging in deep, using my hipbones to swivel me hard left. He then released his right hand and rammed it into my back, directly between my shoulder blades. He bent me in half like a cheap pocket knife. “This is gonna hurt you a lot more than it’s going to hurt me,” he said loudly, through this teeth tightly clenching his pipe, “at first, that is. But when my cock is done with your hole, nothing’s gonna hurt anymore.” With that his hand slid around my arm and scooped up the cum still wet on my chest. He pulled it back and jammed his finger deep into my hole, hard, popping my eyes and blasting the air out of my lungs. His palm and other fingers spread the cooled cum all around my hole, lubing me. That middle finger rolled around my tight ring fast, sweeping what felt like every millimeter of my clenching rectum and fighting the fear tightened grip my asshole. He was forcing the issue and I was getting the message. Then, he yanked that finger out as hard as he had jammed it in, but it was curled into a hook as it exited. It felt for a second like he lifted me off my feet. Then, he pulled my folded body against his and his steel hard cock lodged between my ass cheeks. It slid up and back down leaving a full wide trail of precum as it traveled and I felt the ball of his PA trace out a line as he worked. With a flash, he pulled back, grabbed me by the hip bone again and drove his cock balls deep into me. It did hurt. It hurt a lot. It hurt so fucking bad, my brain scrambled back into the neighborhood of clarity. I hadn’t been fucked that much before, and when it happened, I had some trust built up. I was smart, I’d thought. Trust made me safe somehow. But now, a guy I’d met a few hours earlier, someone I probably couldn’t pick out of a police lineup, was fucking me harder than I’d ever thought possible. Bare. Hell, even if he had been wearing a rubber, it would have never survived that initial thrust. It would have shredded just like my insides felt at this moment. His cock burned as it bottomed out, and burned even harder as he yanked it back to the thick rim of his cockhead. I felt like I was a sock being pulled inside out. The word “STOP” rang out like a claxon inside my skull, but it came out of my mouth, “YESSSSSS! FUCK YESSSSSSSS!” Then came that laugh again, and that laugh went through his group of friends like an electric shock focused back at me. He held his cock hard and still, the head just on the business side of my cramped hole. “Told you’d it hurt! But you had that chance to make this stop. You chose correctly.” I could hear him take a huge draw off his pipe and he sounded like a locomotive boiler building steam. “Now...” The amount of time it took him to spit all that out was all the time I had to gather up the breath that had been knocked out of me. Instantly it was kicked back out of me. He slammed into me even harder, even deeper this time. I was surrounded by his smoke and the smell of hot cum radiating off my body. I shook hard, was shaken hard, and my ears were ringing with the pain shooting through me. Through that ringing I could hear the group hooting at the fucking being delivered into me. It could have been ten minutes or an hour since he started. Somewhere inside the pain, I felt the insane pleasure building. I could also feel his core tightening. He slowed to a slow driving, deeply rocking rhythm. It was then his hand released again and gripped me by my hair. He drew me up to his mouth. “You feel good now?” I nodded as best I could. “I’m glad, but it didn’t matter either way.” I nodded again. “Get back down.” I did, faster than I thought I could. His pounding slowed more, but he wasn’t pulling back as far and was somehow pounding even deeper. I felt him get harder, if that was even possible. Then he pushed until it felt like his balls were penetrating me. “I’m guessing you still don’t know what kind of party this is,” he gripped until his fingers felt like they’d go right through me. “It’s a welcoming party.” “Welcoming?” It wasn’t out loud. But it echoed anyway. “Now,” he sucked in his breath hard. And then he shot. And he shot. And he shot. It was like boiling metal inside me, but soothing at the same time. As the as the throbs through his cock slowed, and he held himself deep while he finished, he yanked my head back up to his mouth. He’d never let the pipe out from between his teeth. “Just so you know, I’m CigarDad. And welcome.” He yanked his cock out of me and I fell to my knees. As I lifted up, I saw the group waking toward me. My eyes cleared and I saw it. As the lead guy reached me, in thick black ink, just off center and above his hard cock, a scorpion dripping venom from its tail. My mouth opened and took his cock in deep. Behind me, another cock pushed into my swollen, broken hole. It pushed into me. And I was home.

This is why I love thongs...

Part 6. As I walked to the exit of the video booths, the light from the main room of the store nearly blinded me. My eyes weren’t ready for the blast of harsh fluorescent light pouring in and I shivered, completely naked just inside the doorway. The halls and the booths were warm and humid with the sex sweat of the hundred or so men who had been banging it out through the day, but the showroom was sparse with glass cases filled with dildos, plugs, cock rings, and all kinds of implements of ass destruction. The air seemed thinner the closer I stepped to the light and my heart almost pounded out of my cum caked chest. I could feel the jizz solidifying on my face, in my hair, and all down my body and all the stimulation made my cock as hard as it ever had been. I had to get into that theater and there was nothing to do but do it. My right foot hit the white tile floor and I was on display now, completely. There was nowhere to hide at all. As I got to the first display case I saw a collection of buttplug—always my favorite toy. My mind wandered away and it was like I wasn’t bare assed naked, but just browsing casually. My eye caught a black silicon plug, almost the same as the one I had at home. A medium. Still a struggle to get it past my tight hole, but so goddamned amazing when the thickest part finally breached and quickly popped inside. I loved that plug and even wore it to the tobacco shop on the occasional night. 6 hours of serving the public with that beauty in made me begin to consider a pair of adult diapers to simply keep my flowing precum from soaking the front of my jeans. “HEY!” The shout ripped me right out of my dream state. Shit. It was the guy behind the register and he’d finally looked up from his phone to see me. “What in the EVERLOVING FUCK are you doing?!?” “I just need to get into the theater,” I said as best I could with the cum mask stiffining the skin on my face. “You know we’re supposed to call the cops if one of you booth beasts pops out here looking like you,” that thought made him laugh pretty deeply. He rolled that around in his head for a good long minute. “Please, man, they took my stuff and it’s in there,” I explained—poorly beneath cum spiked hair and hard rivulets of cum all over my cheeks and nose and chin. “Theater costs ten bucks, slut,” he chuckled, looking me up and down hard, “you got a ten spot hiding on you someplace?” As I went to speak, he interrupted sharply. “Ah, that’s right, your pals have all your stuff in there. Fun pals you got, leaving you high and, well, you ain’t quite dry yet, are you punk?” I bowed my head and shook out a weak “no”. “Ahhh, hell slut, I was just fucking around with you about the cop thing,” he laughed again, less forboding this time, somewhere between genial and devious. “We can work out a way for you to pay your way in. Now, get over here to the counter, and, while you’re by that display, grab that plug.” I sheepishly grabbed the twin for the one I had at home. “Hey, not that little popper!” He snapped, “That one’s for women. You might be a fucked up bitch, but you ain’t no woman. Grab the large and get your ass over here.” I swept my hand up and grabbed the “large” and it was at least twice the size as mine. It also was significantly heavier, the silicon covering a steel core with a solid steel ball bearing inside that clanked hard with every move. Just having it in my hand made my ass clench in pain. But I did what I was told and walked up to the counter. The plug clomped to the glass top and the attendant looked me dead in the eye. “They really did a number on you boy,” he said under his breath as he thoroughly looked me over. “Boys must have been saving up for days to get that much out.” Then he looked dead in my eyes and cocked his head to the side. “You look like a two dollar whore right now. A real cumdump slut. Well, maybe not a cumdump YET,” he said as he reached across the counter and down between my legs. His finger pressed up against my hole and hit dry resistance. “Oh yeah, you haven’t had cock in there for a while. I’ll bet you’re just aching to get out of all this light and get to working on all those hard cocks waiting for you,” he levelled his solid gaze dead in my eyes. “It’s still 10 dollars to get in there.” This was getting a little frustrating and was pumping the hell out of my blood. The frustration was so strong I hadn’t noticed my cock had gotten even harder and was leaking like a fountain. “Looks like you have to earn your money by being a real goddamned two dollar whore. Get around this case and hit those knees faggot. I want to feel you work.” Almost like teleporting I was on my knees, back arched, head craned up, and waiting for further instructions. I saw him dig something out of his back pocket. Two one dollar bills. He brought them to his mouth, spit on them and then roughly slapped them onto my glazed forehead, “now you’re paid you little goddamned whore, suck my cock well” he said working his thick dick out of his jeans. And as it worked out I was hypnotized. It was thick as hell and it didn’t seem to have an end as he kept pulling it out and forward. Did he have a hose reel in there? I thought... in a second though it was out, hard, and the piss slit was pressed against my lips. “Suck that cock well boy” he growled down at me, grabbing the back of my head, “suck it really well and you get to parlay your two dollars into ten.” And before he had finished the last word I had that cock working it’s way slowly into my wet mouth. I felt his incredible thickness stretching muscles that I didn’t even know I had, wedging my jaw down sharply and before I realized, his fat cock head was knocking on the door of my throat. I felt like something was going to snap, but he pressed further and my lips and tongue did their very best to pleasure this pole. The tension and pain and invasion of my face blocked all pain I might have felt and he pushed down deeper, splitting my almost virgin throat wide open. He fucked my face hard and deep and made my lips a foamed up mess of precum and spit. I looked like a mad dog whore and I felt like one too. My tongue was on auto pilot and from the sounds he was making, it knew what it was doing. After a few minutes of hard face rape he stiffened up and exploded. The cum shot out like a pressure washer, blasting down my throat and filling me uncomfortably full. Fuck but I was turned on. Naked for everyone to see, and whoring my mouth out to a complete stranger. My dick dripped even more precum, and I struggled to keep from blacking out. Slowly he pulled that monster out with a big smile on his face. “You earned the theater, cocksucker. Damn fine job. I’ll be in after a while and take that pussy asshole of yours so be fucking ready bitch.” He laughed again as I slowly pulled myself up to standing. As I turned to get back around the counter, he grabbed my shoulder. “Just a second...” He turned and was fiddling with something and then quickly turned back. He’d attached the large plug to a chain necklace, and then he lifted the chain around my neck. The plug dropped heavily against my chest. He looked me dead in the eyes again, “you’ve got a fan in there who ponied up the cash for this plug. He calls himself CigarBear but all I saw him smoking was a big dark pipe.” The attendant looked me over one more time. “He’s definitely going to give your hole a solid fuckdown. And that plug is just the cherry on top.” I slid around the counter and started my journey to the theater. I could hear a lot of voices rumbling from inside the darkened doorway and even more, I could smell the smoke. That was my blend in there and I was going to feel that cock of his soon...

Love this story! My hole would be clenching if I could get humiliated like this!

Hope it was worth the wait... The real depravity is only just beginning.

Part 5. As I walked out of the booth and toward the three men milling around down the rows of booths I felt a simultaneous chill and flash of heat wash up my body to my face. I had to have gone beet red, but it wasn’t from embarassment. I could feel every thud of my heart and it seemed to be pumping all the blood in my body away from my brain straight into my groin and my cock strained out as hard as I’ve ever been. One of the men looked dead at me. “We’ve got an eager one here,” said to the others as he motioned easily toward me. “I’ll be damned,” another half laughed, “he’s bold, I’ll give him that.” With that they began to ease down their flys. Bold. I was actually scared completely out of my mind and so buzzed with adrenaline I almost couldn’t breathe. It seemed like forever squeezed into a ten second walk. As I reached them, they all had their cocks out in varied states of hardness. The one who had first spotted me looked at the one who was the hardest and then looked back at me, “Get to taking care of him first,” he said with a nod of his head, “we’ll enjoy the show.” I walked a few more steps until I was just a foot or so from him. He looked to be somewhere just north of 60 as he came into better focus in the dim hallway lights. He was about my height, but well stockier than me. He carried most of his weight from the chest down and he opened up his shirt to reveal a full beer belly with grey hair that thickened down to his cock where it seemed like a jungle of white fur. Some guys would brush him off as a troll, but with my task at hand I couldn’t, and truthfully—wouldn’t be so picky. He was uncut and sported a hard, thick 7 inches with a knot of foreskin tight around the head. I damn near drooled as I saw that. A hard piece of meat with that much skin was my weakness. “Get down on your knees,” he said quietly, firmly as he gripped my right shoulder and began pressing down. I went to my knees but I didn’t remember the descent. My eyes on that meaty cock were the only sense I had that worked at that moment. “Tip your head back and open your mouth,” he pressed with the fingers of his free right hand firmly against my forehead. I relaxed into the tilted position he seemed to be aiming for and my mouth hung open. Not gaping, just relaxed and ready for what he was going to provide. He touched that knot of skin to my upper lip and squeezed out a single large drop of precum which balanced for a moment and then dropped whole down onto my tongue. As it hit, I tasted that concentrated swirl of sweet bitterness I loved so much. My eyes rolled back in my head from just that small taste and they got a kick out of my reaction. “Damn, man!” The so far silent one just behind me to my left said with a chuckle, “he’s ready to go to town on your cock!” The man in front of me chuckled a little too, “before tonight, this little bitch wouldn’t even look at me.” He craned his head down so he could see me fully just under the crest of his belly. “I’m fairly hard, but you need to get this cock to push this knot out of the way.” He then dropped his pants fully to the floor, the belt buckle clanking like a hammer had dropped. “To get this head out you need to...” with that word, he turned his ass to me, “eat my asshole you little whore. Get in there deep with your tongue and make me believe you deserve the load I’m building up. And there was his ass. Only dusted with the white fur and almost glowing with its paleness. He bent over slightly and pulled his ham-like cheeks apart and there was his hole. It looked clean and my tongue snaked out of my mouth like it had a mind of its own. I leaned right in and worked my way into his tight sphincter. “At least he showered at some point today,” I thought as I formed a solid, sucking lip lock on his asshole. As the soft flesh began to part I almost saw myself from outside my body, my face buried and eclipsed by this man’s hefty ass cheeks. I dug in and worked my now flexed tongue deeper into his hole while maintaining unbroken suction on this ring. He groaned out a sound of enjoyment and I smiled inside. I live for the moments when I am responsible for having that kind of impact. After a few minutes of licking, sucking, chewing, and mining his relaxed hole, he released his cheeks from his grip and I almost felt suffocated in ass as they dropped back together. His left hand pushed me back just the smallest bit and he turned so his cock was level with my mouth. He was fully hard now and a good amount larger than I had originally seen. “Suck my balls boy,” he whispered hoarsely, “Get them both in your mouth and make me feel like you love them more than any other goddamned thing on earth.” With that, he pulled his hard cock up and out of the way exposing two egg shaped balls hanging quite a distance from their root. I leaned forward and sucked one and then softly the other into my drooling mouth. I had them both in and the taste of his sweat mixed with the scent of his day’s worth of musk were overwhelming and sent me deeper into heat. At this moment I completely and totally loved these balls and the feel of his hairy sac in my wet, hot mouth. He then began to drop his hard cock randomly into my face, making a quiet slap every time it hit. And when it hit, a good pool of precum would splatter out and form sticky pools where the cock rested momentarily. After cock slapping me 6 or 7 times, I felt like my face was fairly soaked in that tasty, sticky wetness. “Get off my balls boy, and get this rod into your mouth,” I’m close and I don’t want to waste another drop. I popped those balls out gently and they swung back, pulling his dripping fuckstick right to lip level. I opened up and sucked him inside. It felt like his thick dick was on fire as I drove further down toward the densely furry base. He was pumping out precum liberally now and the taste was even better as it took over and coated every square millimeter of my sucking hole. He put his hands firmly on the back of my head and began to rock his meat into and barely out of my mouth. He seemed to be getting harder and thicker with every thrust and the leaking a steady thick stream, almost like thick maple syrup. He pulled nearly all the way out and then pushed back quickly and decisively into my mouth as deep as he could manage, my face buried deep in his thick cock hair the only limit on pushing farther. He held me still with his meat fully buried to my lips, and started to gasp just a little bit. With that I felt his balls tighten up against my chin. I closed my eyes and began to suck in earnest. Then that thick slab began to pulse in large waves and his cum began to flood into my cheeks and throat. I tightened my lips as hard as I could, clamping off any possible exit for the seed pouring into me. I needed every single drop. As I held tight and swallowed as quickly as possible, I could hear a jangling on either side of me. Not loud, but fast and regular. As the last jets of cum died away, he pushed my head back away, clear of his spit soaked cock. I leaned my head back to take a breath and that’s when I realized what the jangling was. The two other men were furiously pumping their cocks on either side of my face and suddenly they cut loose on me, shooting a full coverage steam that almost fully coated my face. The cum was hot and somehow heavy on my skin and I just knelt there taking every jet perfectly still until they were done. And when they were done, I had a huge amount of jizz layered on me. Before I could really take a breather and process what had happened both men reached down and began to smear their loads all over my face and into my hair. Before they were finished, I was fully coated from my chin to the nape of my neck with a layer of cooling cum. Problem one was, though, I’d only gotten one load down my throat. As I kneeled, sticky and dazed, one of the men turned to me and said, “If you want more action, you’ll need to hit the theater,” he waved toward the blinding entry. “There’s about twenty guys over there and I’m sure they’d love a piece of your action.” With that, I pushed myself up to my feet and began to head back to my booth. I heard a solid laugh behind me so I looked at him and gave a confused look. “Why are you laughing?” “Your clothes and stuff aren’t in there anymore,” he said with an even harder laugh. “When you were eating his asshole, we got your stuff and took it to the theater for safekeeping. You’ll get it back when you’re done. The guy with the pipe said you’d love it!” And then he laughed his way out the door and onto the sales floor and out of sight. At that moment I knew three things. First, he theater had a separate entrance all the way on the other side of the store. Second, it required a separate ticket charge to enter. And third, I had exactly no means to pay my way in. As the cum stiffened into a semi-hardened mask on my face and in my hair, I mulled over my options. It was obvious there was only one. Was I ready for that?

It’s been a busy week or so. I should have another chapter up in the next few days. Sorry about the delay.

Part 4. I somehow managed to get myself into the bathroom before my hard cock announced my intentions to the general public. It wasn’t easy, but it was absolutely necessary. I let out the breath I’d been holding since the note first bounced off my shoe and unfolded the paper. “Hello faggot,” it opened and those words alone made my dick even harder. I love a man who immediately puts me in my place. The note continued, “Your shop closes at 10:30. By midnight I expect you to be in a booth at The Red Cat and completely naked, ready for what’s next. Go to booth 35, and you will find further instructions.” There was no signature. I found myself just staring at the words and lost in the image of that booth. I’d been to The Red Cat a few times. It was a seedy porn shop just off the interstate about 20 Miles south of town, a place with ample parking for semis and always a host of regulars prowling for getting their rocks off. Having swallowed more than a few loads there my mouth went dry and my hole clenched. This pipe daddy wanted an audience. Luckily the customers were steady enough to make the last hour or so pass quickly, and even luckier the counters in the shop were high enough to keep my raging hard-on from public view. Sure we were a tobacco shop, but it was a family crowd. For the most part. Finally, the last customer was hustled out of the shop and Mick turned the key in the lock. “Not a bad fuckin night! We should grab a beer, man.” “I can’t tonight,” I said, feeling a little flushed and more than a little distracted. “I’ve got some shit to take care of so I’ve gotta get out of here before the second wave of bar goons hit the district.” Mick had no idea how literal I was in that moment. I needed to clean my hole out and get that hole to the Red Cat as fast as possible. If I was getting fucked, I wanted just lube, cum, and my clear ass juices on that cigar daddy’s cock because I always clean up after myself. The next hour was a blur and my head was definitely in the backseat to my body’s routine. It had been months since I’d done anything except suck a load out of a guy and everything animal in me managed the business at hand. Light T-Shirt, thin cotton drawstring pants, flip flops and straight up commando. It was best to travel light to the bookstore. Phone, money clip with the bare minimum of cash, ID, and a tube of astroglide. I also had a ziplock bag tucked into my pocket with tightly folded moist wipes. It didn’t take long to learn those were vital in situations like this. Dollar store paper towels feel like you’re wiping your well fucked and swollen hole with a jagged asphalt shingle. I prefer my pain to have a cock associated with it, not the clean-up. I didn’t look at myself in the mirror as I swept the keys off the dresser. It didn’t matter what I looked like now. It only mattered that I be bareassed and ready to go once I was inside booth 35. It was now 11:30 and I had beat feet to get there on time. I left the a/c off for the drive to prepare my self for the assault on the senses the Red Cat always provided. The only A/C they had was in the showroom. I guess they didn’t want those rubber dicks to wilt under the usual heat and thick humidity this time of year was riddled with. Once in the darkness of the booths, that heat and hanging damp were perfect. All the smells congealed with every breath you took and made it feel like you were inches away from a nicely tuned rack of cock and balls at all times. Six feet into this maze of black painted plywood and my shirt and pants were clinging to the sweat pouring out of me. Focused, well as focused as I could be in the sweltering thick air, I made my way to booth 35. Most of the doors were closed and occupied. A full compliment of fuck hunters tonight. Four or five guys, as usual, were hanging out in their usual “random” spread. If getting eye fucked were a thing, I’d already have at least three loads in me or on me. But I was on a specific mission and now, I was here. Booth 35. Second to last in the row and very much unoccupied. I took a breath of the syrup thick air, stepped inside, and closed the door behind me. 11:56. Dead on time. As my eyes adjusted to the bright blue blast of the video monitor I saw there was another note taped to its scratched and cum smeared plexiglass cover. It was folded in three and it had some words on the outside. My eyes managed to acclimate fairly quickly so I could read “ALL CLOTHES OFF BEFORE READING”. It was definitive and I snapped to immediately. I sat the note on the bench and quickly shed my shirt and then pants. They were barely there anyway because of the thin material, but they were now like a light whisper now piled into the corner. Then, I picked up the note and flipped it open. “Good faggot.” I heard it in his thick, edgy voice, like he was millimeters away from my ear. “You made it this far. Now you’re going someplace you’ve never gone. I will only fuck a hole that is primed and ready and has shown it will go as far as I decide. Your task now is to take 10 loads—5 down your throat and 5 in your hole. I will be watching, and counting.” A shiver ran down my spine straight to my asshole. I hadn’t taken 5 loads in either hole combined in the 7 months before now. “And you aren’t going to sit like a princess and wait for them to come to you. I haven’t got all night. You will take your naked ass out and into the hall and make this happen. Now, get out of those goddamned shoes, lube up your fucking hole and start pulling loads like the low goddamned slut you are. I will know when you’ve hit your goal.” And that was it. I didn’t have to read it twice. I took another deep breath, kicked off my flip flops and eased out the door. There were three guys just hanging out, and I walked my way toward them. I was on autopilot. Or should I say autowhore? Either way, there was no way I was able to turn back now and it felt fucking incredible.

Part 3. I was tunnel-visioned out, passing out boxes of cigarettes like a clown on a parade float. The smile painted on, but really just a dancing monkey with a cash register calling the tune. Then Mick reached in and pulled me out. “Hey, I’m busy with getting the cigar shipment sorted out,” he shot over his shoulder, “maybe help that guy in the humidor? Said he wanted some pipe tobacco.” I headed back to the walk-in humidor and stepped inside. Just on the other side of the center table display I could see black leather through the stacked boxes of Upmanns and Fuentes. “Hmmm, we’ve got the Hemingway’s in,” I noted to myself. As I thought to grab a Short Story for later, the man at the jars of pipe tobacco shifted a bit and my eyes wandered back to him. It was the leather that really caught my eye. Black leather, but not that pristine, showroom new leather or the glossy vinyl that seemed to be so popular with the weekend warrior set. This leather was broken in, supple, with a grain that can only be nurtured over years of wear and care. He wore that jacket and there was no chance of it wearing him. When he moved his arm up to take down a jar of Latakia, the creases and folds made that magical sound, the sound that muscles must make under the skin when they tense and pull and expand. I began to sweat just a little bit. It was 78° in the humidor, but it might as well have been 100. My jeans also got incrementally tighter. “Could you help me here?” He asked that as less of a question and much more like a command. He wasn’t loud, he wasn’t abrasive, and I wasn’t completely sure he hadn’t just spoken directly into my mind. “Sure, What do you need?” I ventured as I rounded the corner just to his left. He turned his head and looked at me for a moment. Or maybe an hour. I wasn’t really experiencing things in a linear way as I caught sight of his eyes. They could have been blue, could have been green, or they could have been as black as the leather he wore neck to toes. His eyes didn’t move from mine, but I knew he had fully scanned me, from the floor right up to the top of my head. I felt like I had just passed through a CAT scan. “I need a blend for tonight,” he said, crooking his right eyebrow just a bit for emphasis, “something smooth with more than a little edge to it.” His eyes dipped ever so subtly down my body, then slid back up. “I see you have the Latakia there,” I said almost unconsciously, with a slight nod toward the jar in his hands. The nod dislodged a bead of sweat that had built at the nape of my hairline which then rolled straight down my spine, raising the hair on my arms like a static charge. “That’ll get you the edge you need in a good blend. I’d go two thirds black cavendish for the smoothness and a third of the Latakia if that’s what you’re looking for.” Again, he crooked that eyebrow at me and gave the slightest smile. “Sounds perfect, but I’d like a hint of flavor in there too.” He paused, just long enough to scan me one more time. “What would you toss in there?” “For taste and aroma, we’ve got this burley and Virginia cherry blend,” I gestured toward the jar on my left, but it felt like I was moving my arm through black strap molasses, the tension was so palpable. “A little bit of that goes a long way, so I’d just put an ounce or two in the blend.” He smiled that crooked smile again, “Sold. I’ll take a pound of your special blend tonight.” I could have sworn he said something else as well, but it was only my percolating imagination piecing those particular words together. “I’ll grab these jars and take them out to the scale” I murmured, almost choking, as I pulled the Latakia out of his grip and gathered the other two jars. As I turned to walk out, I saw him reach inside his jacket but was quickly out the door to mix up his order. The air outside the humidor was almost bracing as the rush of the ceiling fans powered off the layer of heat I carried with me. I set about pulling his order together, portioning out the balance he was looking for, carefully lacing the cherry flavor throughout the blend. It had to be even to pack right and smoke consistently with each bowl. There is no recipe with tobacco, at least not good tobacco, just a touch and intuition. After a few minutes and a trip to the scale, I had the blend in a ziplock ready to go. Just as I sealed the bag, he strode out of the humidor and to the register where I met him. “That’ll be twenty three dollars” I said as absently as I usually do when manning the cash box. “Here’s thirty,” He said as he handed two crisp, folded bills to me. “Keep the change.” He then tucked the baggie into his inside breast pocket and disappeared through the door. I looked down and went to put the twenty and the ten away when a slip of paper slid out from between them and fell to the floor, bouncing off the edge of my shoe. The skittering sound set off my adrenaline and I was frozen for a second. Snapping to, I jammed the bills into the register, slammed it closed and retrieved the paper. As I tucked it into my back pocket, I looked over at Mick. “Hey, I need to use the john. You okay with the shop?” “Yeah, no problem man.” And with that, the sweat I thought had been part and parcel with the humidor hit me again. I knew I had to read this note as soon as absolutely possible.

Hopefully I’ll have something up tomorrow night. I’ve been busy with work. Actual work, not the fun kind...

Thanks, and there is some pipe smoke developing. Stay tuned...

Part 2. I drifted out of my little dreamland and got off my ass to get to work. As I straightened up, I felt the wet spot generated by my free flowing precum press against my shaved pubic area. It felt hot and cold at the same time as my cock slithered down into a relaxed arrangement and I love that feeling. I keep perfectly shaved at all times for just such moments. Well, that and it keeps me mentally and physically in my place. As I wandered behind the counter and mostly sleepwalked into my job I ran back over in my mind what made me such a complete bottom, a submissive, a toy really. That’s what got me off-being used, and used well. In my second bookstore venture, I had sneaked off yet again, my then wife blissfully passed out from three glasses of wine too many. I was coming down off my beer rush and had settled into finding my next rush, a burst of something that would blow me out of myself and away from the tedious bullshit every day ground into. Back to the bookstore. Back to those booths. But this time around, I needed something different to light my fuse. The blowjob I had gotten had fueled some good jerking, but I always landed back on that last gesture. He had spit my cum out like it was on fire and evaporated back out into the dark. Thinking endlessly about it, I realized I was barely involved at all. And I needed to be as deep into this as I could take myself. So I bought my tokens and into the back I went. I settled into a corner booth. The corners had just that much more room to move around in. Or at least a touch less claustrophobia. This time around I left the door unlatched and slightly open. What I needed would find its way in and this journey would begin. And as quickly as I popped several tokens down the slot, the door lightly creaked open and two guys stepped in. They looked to be in their 50’s and pretty nicely dressed. Polo shirts and chinos and nicely worn shoes. They looked at me as I sat on the bench and I nodded. The door was closed in a smooth, quiet motion. The next move was clearly up to me, and I moved off the bench toward them and immediately went to my knees. I had never sucked a cock before, but whatever sat there in the back of my skull, the thing that had brought me here, the thing hungry for that rush knew it wanted those cocks in my mouth. Now. They unbuckled, unbuttoned, and unzipped and a foot in front of my face were two hard dicks. For starters, I went left. I don’t know why, and I didn’t care. The tight mushroom of the head was now between my lips and I got the first tangy drop of another man’s precum on the top of my tongue. Immediately I was hooked. I moved forward and slid him into me, working that shaft with my lips and tongue, nursing on that hardness like a newborn. A fully newborn cocksucker. And I worked that angle for all I was worth, pulling back, diving deep, every back and forth bring more of that sweet precum into me hungry mouth. He relaxed some, and then lightly placed his hands on my head. I was lost in every nerve firing in my mouth and barely noticed him pushing me more firmly down his spit slicked prick. My hands found his ass and worked in tandem with his own pulling and he moved faster and deeper into my mouth, lightly breaching my throat every few strokes. My cheeks hollowed with the suction I was generating and I was finally outside of myself, farther than any drink or drug had ever taken me. Then, his grip tightened, fingers wrapped in my hair. I was far enough down to touch his balls with my extended tongue and I felt them draw up, and—bam—he unloaded. My formerly hollowed cheeks inflated with cum, and it was a lot. More than I’d ever pumped out, more than I’d imagined could be pumped out. My brain lit up like Rockefeller Center on New Years Rockin’ Eve and the taste and feel of all that cum turned my world upside down. As I gulped and choked and sputtered I knew I was right where I needed to be: servicing a hard cock. He pulled back and I was locked up, in a daze of pure heat. And in that daze, the voice of his partner rang in from the right. I turned my head and saw him furiously pumping his cock, “I got so turned on I couldn’t wait,” he hissed, “this is for you cocksucker.” And with that he unloaded a massive load directly into my face. It was thick and hot and sliding down toward my jawline and chin. I began to reach up to push that load into my mouth and he grabbed my wrists. “Leave that cum on your face, cocksucker,” he said, having recovered his deep voice from his earlier scratchy hiss. “Wear that out of this place and let everyone see what you are.” By the time I processed that, they were on the other side of the door. After a few minutes of recovery, I pushed off my knees and headed out myself. I wore that cum through the showroom full of dildos and dirty magazines and out to my car. It almost looked like a mask, but I knew the face I had before was the real mask. This face now, soaked and dripping with cooling semen, that was my true face. And there was no looking back.

Thanks for all the kind words! I’m going to have another chapter up as soon as possible...

Oh, there definitely is...

Part 1. It was a Saturday on Market Street when I rambled through the crowd into the small shop where I worked. When the bell on that door clanged, it was like stepping back at least 60 years when your foot firmly planted on the well worn warehouse wood floor and the mixed scents of the tobacco took over from the now almost sterile air of the street. I worked in what was a true anachronism in these health obsessed days—an actual tobacconist. In here there was a safe haven for the last of the smokers. In here, you could feel free to take a deep draw on the smoke of your choice and there wasn’t a stink-eye in the place. Well, unless you were stupid and green and just wanted a pack of Marlboro Ultra Lites because “I only smoke when I drink!” That line was always delivered in exactly the same way: a flourish, a giggle, and a twenty dangled offhandedly at you, never toward you. For those, you banged out the transaction on the register and tossed the change at the counter, never toward them. Assholes can sweep up their change. It was moments like this, and chasing off the dead eyed bro-stoners in their year-round cargo shorts and teva sandals who touristed the hell out of the pipe selection, always trying slyly to prize out a secret stash of glass pipes. “Head shop is six blocks over,” and a distinct nod at the front door to demonstrate we were at the end of our interaction. “How are things tonight, Mick?” I asked as I passed my buddy behind the counter and made my way back to the barbers chairs set strategically in front of the walk in humidor. “Calm before the storm,” Mick laughed. The streets outside were packed tonight, maybe a little more than usual, with a different flavor to the air than usual as well. “They’re having some sort of Leather something or other up at The Hammer and Anvil tonight. Probably gonna be some interesting folks in, I’ve already seen some assless chaps and they look like they mean business,” Mick laughed around his ever present cigar. I felt myself flush a little, some tightness developed in my jeans as I tossed that image around in my head. I sat down in the well worn leather of the barber chair and crossed my legs to adjust the growing discomfort downstairs. I had recently come through my divorce. It had been a bitch of a time, but I dealt with it like any sane individual. Namely I drank way too much and made as many bad choices as I could possibly access. The drinking was now mostly back in check. Mostly. The other choices, well, I was beginning to see them as not so bad as I got further into them. As I reclined back in the chair, still getting harder, the thoughts of those assless chaps were banging hard inside my head. Right before the divorce, when things were getting out of hand, I escaped to the seedier side of town and the adult bookstore that dimly glowed like a vaguely Pizza Hut shaped pimple is the center of a large parking lot. When I was younger, it was a taste of real rebellion. Getting ankle deep in porn when there was no internet to pump it directly into your skull was a real buzz. It smelled like danger and it had those doors to the back rooms and the video booths. At that time I never had the stones to venture back and explore. Just picked out a Hustler and maybe a Barely Legal to jack to. But my eyes, and my mind, always were magnetically drawn to those dark entrances. I could never shake that. So, with the marriage heading south and a head full of lager, finally I ventured back. Got my tokens at the register and in to the unknown I did dive. Quickly I took a dim walk around the maze of booths to figure out what to do. It was pretty self explanatory so, without making eye contact with the ten or so guys loitering around, I slid into a booth. After dropping my tokens, the TV behind the plexiglass began to blast my eyes. As my pupils finally constricted enough, I saw the channel was on gay porn. I went to switch it, but the switch was in about the shape you’d imagine it to be. So I was watching one guy do an absolutely miraculous blowjob on another guy who clearly had a special effect for a cock. It was mesmerizing and my own cock immediately leapt to attention. I undid my jeans and yanked it free from my boxers and started the five finger shuffle. Just then, a note skittered under the door, ricocheting a bit off the sole of my shoe. I dipped down to see what it was and, unfolded it said three simple words: “suck your dick?” I broke into a cold sweat immediately. I’d never been anywhere near this kind of action but goddamn I wouldn’t mind getting my dick sucked right now. I slipped the bolt and the door popped immediately open and in slid a guy who was pretty much the trashiest guy I’d ever seen. He had a trucker hat on and a grey sweatshirt and bam, he was on my cock. No words, no eye contact, no nothing but my cock in his mouth and he worked it like there was some kind of cure buried inside my balls. And the weirdness made me even harder. As hard as I’d ever been. He sucked and tongued and licked and sucked again so hard I thought he was going to give me a full dick hickey. As lost as I was, I had zero control and after about three minutes total I unloaded like a fire hydrant that just took a direct hit from a truck. He sucked it all in really quickly, then he turned his head and spit it right on the floor and then, poof, out the door he went. There I was, some cum still dripping off my cock along with plenty of saliva, and I was both grossed out and completely hooked. It was a pump of weird adrenaline that I knew I needed to keep feeling. But for now I had to get the hell out before I passed out from the sensory overload.

Cum is much better coming from someone else. I don’t really get off unless I know I’m getting someone else off.

I definitely like to be put on display. Sucking a cock triggers all the darkest parts of me and drops every inhibition I might have. I go from married bi guy to straight-up slut in no time flat and not only do I want guys to watch me I want them to join in and use me exactly how they see fit. I drop my clothes in a heartbeat and my ass is on full display, moving on its own and inviting as much and any kind of attention as it can get. My ultimate goal is to service an ABS theater full of hard cocks. All bare and all dropping their loads in my dripping asshole.

6 numbers on a die. There can be more than one merry go round though...

1. Chris 2. 50 3. Have a six place merry go round, six bottoms on it, 6 tops around it. Three of the tops are poz, three neg. One die. Roll the die and that’s how many tops fuck you. Spin the wheel and where you stop is the first. And so on. 4. Repeat.

Location, Omaha NE BBRTS: need2submit A4A: need2submit email: need2submit2003@gmail.com Tumblr: need2submit2003.tumblr.com

Things Change, Part 3... I was spinning out. My knees were beginning to ache from kneeling, the carpet was thin and I had no play in my position with my ankles locked together as close as they were. As he pushed his cum and ass covered cock into my mouth, I felt the plastic drivers license and tape on my forehead pull against my skin. It was secure, that much was certain. But that feeling quickly passed away as the flavors began to light up in my mouth. Sucking a cock that had just unloaded in my ass was always a particular high for me. I hadn’t yet met a top who didn’t love it, and being that much of a submissive slut just felt fucking good. Before I got too lost in the moment, he pulled his cock back with a pop from my lips. “Let’s get that mouth over to Bill,” he said with a grin, “gotta keep this moving.” With that two sets of hands grabbed me under my armpits from behind and dragged me over to the sling where I was immediately face to crotch with Bill. “Get his balls in your mouth faggot.” Of course I did this with no hesitation, but with my hands locked, it was a little like trying to stuff cats into a pillowcase. They got a good chuckle from my struggle and my commitment to getting his balls fully inside my mouth. Finally, my lips were firmly around the base of his sack and his rapidly firming cock rested against my cheek. I looked to my top man and as I locked in on his position, BAM, the flash hit again. “You’re going to have a face shot with every guy’s balls in your worthless mouth today faggot,” he laughed from behind my phone, “this day is going to stick with you for a long time. Now, get your mouth on Bill’s asshole.” I leaned back and let his balls slip from my drooling mouth. As I began to lean forward again, my top man interjected, “Hold on faggot,” he then gestured to someone behind me, “Sam, turn the fucking lights on. I’m going to start recording this and it’s too dark. Can’t see the faggot well enough.” And the lights snapped on. I was frozen because I knew better than to make a move now without the go-ahead. “Okay faggot, got it going. Now, ask Bill nicely if you can suck his asshole. And I mean nicely.” “Can I please suck your asshole?” I asked as plainly as I could, locking eyes with the man in the sling. “Tell me you want it, pig,” Bill breathed, “tell me how MUCH you want to suck my asshole.” “Sir, I really, REALLY want to suck your asshole. I want it as badly as I’ve ever wanted anything,” I said directly and honestly. I loved to eat ass, but I also wanted to try and get through this as quickly as possible. “Then go ahead pig, get that tongue in there now,” he smiled broadly and I began to move the few inches between us, my tongue extended, my mouth slightly open. As I did, I saw his belly tighten and his hole burst a wad of cum all over my face. The whole room burst into laughter as I sat there frozen, cum dripping from all over my nose, cheeks, and chin. “You have NO idea how hard was to hold that load in!” he was shaking with laughter and I felt like I could see the video as it was being taken. “Now get in there and get the rest of that jizz out of my hole you goddamned whore. Charlie really dumped a bunch in me while we were waiting in the garage, so you still have plenty of work to do.” I was now as low as I’d ever been, as I moved immediately forward and began to eat that hole as deeply and completely as I could. I realized how much I’d only been playing at being a sub whore all this time. Playtime was now over. As I swallowed and tongued and drank the cum from this man’s asshole with a room full of men awaiting the same service, my mind began to finally calm. I didn’t care what happened next. But I wanted it to happen. I wanted all of it to happen. to be continued...