Catchr

I winked my hole and enjoyed the squishing of his cum when I heard him talking to someone outside. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I recognized his voice. Then the door opened and someone else stepped in. He didn’t say anything, but I heard his boots step up to my door, and then silence. He must have been reading the note. Then I heard his zipper open, and he said, “I already seen you kid, now I just want your hole.” I imagined he was one of the white guys—a Daddy, from the sound of his voice. I heard him spit on his cock, and as he shoved it in, I was kind of glad that he didn’t want to use a rubber. “Enjoy it, Daddy,” I said, and I think I felt his cock twitch a little when I called him “Daddy.” He grabbed my ankles and started to fuck. “Yeah…good that you know what you’re for, boy. Nice tight, slick boy-hole. That last guy lubed you up good for me.” It was clear he was a talker. Fine with me. “Yes he did. He left a big load in me for everyone else to use.” His cock twitched again. “You spread for Nigga cock a lot, boy?” As he asked me that, I heard the garage door open, and more footsteps. “This must be the place,” said a second voice. “Nice setup he’s got here.” My top was too focused to do more than glance at the new guy, if he even did that. “I’ll spread for anyone who needs a hole to cum in,” I replied, loud enough for the new guy to hear too. That time I was sure I felt his cock twitch. And my own cock was leaking a puddle of pre-cum on my belly. I scooped some up and started to jack myself. I started to flex my hole every few thrusts and heard him grunt each time I did. “Damn, boy! Got a four-day load I need to blow. You keep that up and you’re gonna get it soon…” His breathing was getting ragged and I could feel that he was sweating when his balls slapped against my ass. “That’s what I’m for, Daddy,” I replied. “I want to make sure you enjoy using me.” That pushed him over the edge. He slammed in to me balls-deep, and gripped my ankles so tightly that he was stopping the circulation. I actually felt his balls pull up when he blew because the hairs scraped against my ass. I could tell he was trembling from the force of the first few blasts, and from the sound of it he was grunting through tightly gritted teeth. And when his cock stopped pulsing, he huffed once and pulled out, and I heard him reach over for some tissues to wipe off his cock. Then he zipped up, and I heard him rustling the condom packets that I had separated and left on a silver (plastic and foil) tray. “I’m taking all your rubbers and throwing ‘em out, boy,” he said. “Nobody should have to use ‘em with you, and you know you don’t want ‘em to anyway.” “He’s all yours,” he said to the new guy, then slapped him on the shoulder and left. The next guy had stepped up to my hole before the garage door had even closed. His cock felt only semi-hard, and might not have slipped in as easily as it did if I hadn’t been so slick with cum. “Glad the line was short,” he said. “I gotta take a wicked piss.” By the time it registered with me what he’d said, I was already feeling his hot urine stream filling me. I was a bit in shock, and didn’t say anything. Neither did he, except to sigh loudly and moan, “Y-e-e-e-a-a-h-h…” Then I knew that he must be the guy I’d argued with online. Not really argue, but we had a lengthy discussion about what I was into and what was allowed and not allowed. Piss was never mentioned on either list. When he was finished, he just pulled out and left without another word, leaving me to decide how I felt about piss-play. My cock seemed to like it, at least, because it had started to swell the moment I felt his piss in me, and was harder than it had been all night. He’d heard my conversation with the last guy about “using me” and knowing “what I’m for”. So he used me. Maybe he didn’t use me for sex, or to cum in, but he used me. He needed to piss, and I was just a hole, so he used me.

I have long considered myself (correctly or not) to be a power-bottom, or at least, an exclusive bottom who’s always horny. I’m not a bad looking guy, at five foot eight and about a hundred and forty-five pounds. I’m no body builder, but I’m not exactly skinny either (I just wish I had more body hair). I’ve gotten my share of action, bit I never was able to hook up as often as I wanted to because I like to take a real pounding, but the walls of my apartment are paper thin. Unless the other guy had his own place it usually meant getting a motel, and that could get to be expensive after a while. Then, after several years with a local market research firm, and working my way up from interviewer to project manager, I could finally become a home-owner before I was thirty. It was a small place, kind of a fixer-upper, but it had two floors and was in a nice quiet suburb. All the houses in the area were practically identical except for the color. Mine was on the edge of a cul-de-sac and was painted slate gray. And I loved that it had the attached garage so I wouldn’t have to worry about brushing off the mid-western snow or rushing to haul my groceries through the yard in the rain. The previous owner kept the garage meticulously neat and had added built-in cabinets to keep the usual garage clutter out of sight. There was also a weird kind of closet that fit into the space under the stairwell on the other side of the wall inside the house (I said it was small…). It looked as if it was a bathroom at one time, but there was no toilet there now, just some exposed pipes. Since I’m always thinking about sex, I first thought It would be a good place to hide my porn stash and sex-toys on those times that mom stopped for a weekend visit and during the holidays. It would have made a very small bathroom, with barely enough room for a standing shower, but it was more than big enough for my collection of DVD’s and a couple of dildos. But then I got an even better idea. I remembered seeing an ad online from a guy who had built a glory-hole in a side door of his house. Men would text him that they were stopping by, or just ring his side doorbell at certain times of the day, and slip their dicks through the hole. They’d get a quickie blow-job, he’d get his daily protein allowance, and they’d never even see each other. I planned to do him one better. It only took me a quick trip to the hardware store and a long afternoon to make the modifications because the door was hollow and easy to cut. A couple of saw-horses, some thin vinyl upholstery, a few two-by-fours, para-cord, six-inch bolts, and a simple pulley-system later and I was finished. After I tested everything out to make sure it worked, I headed online. I ran an ad for an “insatiable power bottom” entertaining a session for the coming Saturday. I posted a fairly recent nude selfie and said that condoms were optional, but bareback was preferred. Replies with nude photos would get directions and details. I hit “upload” and waited for the replies to come in. Over the next couple of days, there were a half-dozen replies that seemed serious, with nude photos and detailed descriptions of what they wanted to do to me, so I gave them directions to my house, and told them to come through the garage entrance at seven p.m. I had just enough time after work to shower and get everything ready. I didn’t bother to get dressed or even dry off. Then, after making sure that any doors leading into my house were securely locked, I set up a small table in the garage with some condoms, lube, tissues, and a couple of my dildos. And I left a few bottles of water in a cooler nearby. Then I opened the closet door. I had cut a hole in the center of it, just a bit larger than my thirty-four inch waist. Inside the closet, I had rigged up the saw-horses and planks into a short bench with the end protruding a few inches through the hole in the door. I sat on the edge of the bench and reached through the hole for a pair of hook-and-loop wrist restraints that were dangling from two lengths of para-cord on the outside of the closet door. I wrapped them around my ankles and stuck my feet through the hole. Then I pulled it closed and bolted it shut from the inside. Each length of para-cord was threaded through a small hole that I had drilled in the door near each of the top corners, and then through a pulley suspended from the ceiling just inside the doorway. I lay back on the bench and scooted forward until I was near the edge, and the hole in the door was around my waist. Then I pulled each cord and secured them around hooks that I had screwed into the walls at my sides within reach of each hand. Now my legs were held up and spread, and my hole was open and exposed for my “guests” when they arrived. All I had to do was wait. I put my hands behind my head-on the pillow that I had brought from my bedroom-and felt my cock swell as I thought of the guys who had sent me photos. I hadn’t responded to everyone who had sent me a photo because some guys were into stuff I wasn’t like scat and painful stuff, and some guys were too young (I like Daddy-types), but they were still hot. The guys I did respond to were all over forty, but other than that they had little in common aside from describing themselves as “total top” and “insatiable”. That was all I needed. Aside from directions and instructions to just let themselves in through the small garage door, I told them little. I didn’t have to. They’d all seen my photo, and all wanted a piece of me, so I just laid out what was NOT allowed, told them that condoms would be available if they wanted, but that I didn’t care either way, and that they could go as many times as they wanted until nine O’clock. Just as I was thinking about one of the hot black Daddies who responded, I heard a knock on the garage door and my cock jumped. The knob turned with a click, and the door creaked open a bit, and as soon as I heard a baritone voice ask, “Hello?” I knew it was one of the two. I heard the door close, and just a couple of footstep across the floor when he said, “Ni-i-i-c-e!” I grinned and stroked my cock a bit then, because I was sure that he was one of the black guys, but then stopped because I knew I had to be on my back for a few hours and didn’t want to cum too soon. “This is better than I’d hoped for,” he said, and I felt his hand slide up the back of my thigh and down again. It felt a little dry, but not too rough, and I figured he was the younger stud—just forty-two and not too muscly, but at six foot three and with eight and a half un-cut inches he was fucking hot! I heard his belt buckle jangling, and heard him suck his finger before probing my hole with it. I hadn’t fully lubed myself, but I rubbed a little in my rosebud just in case no one else wanted to. I flexed my hole around his finger and clenched it, and I heard him chuckle. “Yeah… I love a nice tight white boy to cum in…” Then I heard him lube his cock and press the head against my hole. I pushed out to open for him and he chuckled again. “Hungry pussy, ain’t ya?” and he started to push in. Like a hot lead pipe he pushed his cock into me, not ramming it in, but not exactly slowly either. He just pushed in steadily and forcefully, his cock muscling my flesh out of its way so that it could get into me until I felt the wiry hairs on his balls scratching my ass. “Damn, that’s a nice pussy,” he grunted, and started to fuck. He thrust away like a machine in a strong steady rhythm. And from the sound of it, he hadn’t even dropped his pants. He was just fucking me through his open fly. That made my cock jump again. I tried not to stroke it, I just spread my pre-cum across the head because I wanted to see how long I could hold out before I came. And I could tell from the way the doorway was creaking that he had found the cabinet handles that I had screwed into it so that my “guests” would have a hand-hold. Then he paused in his fucking for a moment, and when he started again he said, “Yeah, you look hot like that, boy,” and I knew that he had finally seen my note, even though it was posted, for him, closer to chest-height. I had secured my old tablet computer in its book-style cover to the door (after clearing it of all files) next to a note that read, “If you want to have a look, open the cover.” The video app was linked to a small web-cam that I had mounted to the ceiling looking down on me. He had obviously opened the cover and was watching me being fucked. “Hands behind your head, just relaxing and taking this big black cock." I looked up into the camera and smiled. Although I still couldn’t see him, he picked up speed a little and seemed to fuck harder. “How long you been a cum-dump, boy?” he grunted as he thrust, and I heard him breathing heavier. “All my life,” I said with a smile, and I felt his cock twitch. Truth was, I took my first cock at sixteen, but I knew from that moment that I would never top again. “Awww, yeah!” he howled, and I could picture an ear-to-ear grin on the face from his picture. “Damn, if all you white boys don’t love takin Nigga’ cock…” and I felt his cockhead swell inside me. His thrusts got faster and drove deeper. “Always happy to give it up to a horny brotha,” I replied. “Fuck yeah! Take it, bitch!” He slammed his cock in me to the balls and ground his hips against me as I felt his thick black load blasting into me. He grunted and growled and the door shook as he blew volley after volley of jizz into my tight hole. “Whooo!” he howled, and pulled out of me with a pop. “Thanks, boy,” and he slapped my ass. I heard him grab some tissues and clean his cock. “Sure thing man. Just close the cover again before you go." He zipped his fly, and I heard the cover close again. “Lata,” he called, and the door closed again.

I glanced at the slip of paper again as I turned left down the hall. It was a printout of a three-line e-mail I received two days earlier. The first line cited the address of a small hotel downtown and a room number at that hotel. The second line contained today's date, Saturday the eighteenth. The third line was the time - seven o'clock P.M., nearly an hour away. It was more than enough time for me to get ready. The email was from Jerry. I'm not sure how to describe my relationship with him. He's not my 'Daddy' and he's not really my 'Master'. I guess it would be most accurate to describe him as my owner. I met him when my ex did some match-making. He knew my kinks and what an insatiable bottom I had become, and he knew what kind of relationship I wanted to explore. Sometime after we broke up (which was on good terms), my ex contacted me and said he'd met someone who might be compatible with my desires. Jerry and I swapped some photos, exchanged a few emails, and met for a couple of fuck sessions before I drew up the contract. Basically, the contract stated that for the period of seventeen months Jerry owned me. I was his property - all six feet, one hundred-sixty pounds of me. Not his 'boy', just his property. He told me what to wear (if anything), when to sleep, when to eat, and I had to ask permission to use the bathroom. He made all my decisions. Most importantly (to me, at least) he owned my body. I became nothing more than a toy for him to use for his pleasure however and whenever he saw fit. As he instructed, I spent more time at his place than mine, and while in his presence was almost always naked. In addition, Jerry forbade me from speaking without having first obtained permission. I usually only ever spoke to answer a question or ask to use the bathroom. Most of the time his answer was yes. He would grope me whenever I walked past (and I would always wait until he was finished before continuing on my way), feed me his piss if he was out working in the yard and didn't want to come in, or just didn't feel like getting up, and even mounted me in the kitchen once while I was washing dishes at the sink. I felt his hand on my ass and heard his zipper, so I set down the dish I was holding, spread my feet apart, and leaned forward so he could enter me. With his hands on my shoulders, he rode me in silence for a few minutes, except for some grunting, and then ruffled my hair when he pulled out. He did that a lot, and it made me feel like I was seventeen, instead of twenty-seven. Friday nights after dinner, when he frequently instructed me to 'get ready for company', which I knew meant that I should wash, inside and out, and then climb into the bed in the second bedroom. I knew to then slip my legs into a large, wide loop of fabric, somewhat stretchy, (although not as much as a bungee cord), and settle just above my knees. Then I'd lay back and hook the strap behind my neck so it would keep my legs spread and my feet in the air. There were two pairs of handcuffs attached to the headboard, but I could only fasten one myself. Jerry would come in to fasten the other before company arrived. In addition he would also sometimes affix a blindfold. 'Company' consisted of a few friends of his with high-stress jobs who needed some relief by the end of the week. Not a grudge-fuck per-se, just a serious hard-pounding, heart-rate-elevating, ball-draining session. Judging from the way that some of them would collapse and melt against me after blasting like a cannon, they really needed it. And I was happy to be of service. His friends would stop in at other times as well. Sometimes in the middle of the week he would even call them to let them know I was there, and they would take turns using me on the living room floor. Sometimes they didn't take turns, but just used me both at once. Occasionally one of Jerry's buds would bring a friend of his own that Jerry hadn't met. I always thought it was hot to hear his bud make introductions, and hear Jerry talk about me as though I wasn't there. He make comments such as "Yeah, it's nice and tight, you'll love it," and "Use 'em as a urinal too, either hole. Doesn't matter." I found it really hot that he treated me as if I wasn't even a person, just a couple of holes for them to use. I was a urinal, but not a toilet (no scat). That was one stipulation on which we had both agreed. But I never thought twice about spreading for any of them because I had signed a contract. Jerry owned me, and decided who fucked me and how they could use me. Jerry even decided whether or not they used a rubber. He hardly ever wore one himself, and guys usually used me bare. I assumed those guys who wrapped were poz, and in any event, every two months Jerry took me to a different clinic, and instructed me to get tested for HIV. As this was one of the stipulations he wanted in our contract, I had no reason to object. I never actually saw the results of the HIV screening as, when the results came in the mail, I always handed over the un-opened envelope to Jerry. As I had given Jerry a copy of the key to my apartment, I wasn't all that surprised when, on a few occasions, I was awakened in the middle of the night to find a strange man undressing in the bedroom of my own apartment, who explained his presence by saying "Jerry sent me." On one such occasion I awoke when such man was handcuffing me to my own headboard. I'd rub my eyes and mumble, "Oh, okay," then pull the covers back and pull my knees up to spread for him. It always amused me how the man would instantly bone up when he saw that I understood why he was there. And as soon as the man unloaded, he would unceremoniously dress and split, so I would just roll over and go back to sleep. On this occasion I arrived at the hotel room and stuffed the note into my pocket as I turned the knob, not bothering to knock. The door was unlocked as usual, and I let myself in, locking it behind me. I'd unlock it again later. I stripped, folded my clothes, and put them into a small suitcase that Jerry had left in the middle of the bed. Then I showered, took an enema, and unlocked the door to place the suitcase in the hall outside the door. Jerry had set up a few parties like this in hotels before. He would send his friends to find me in the room already naked and ready for use. Usually he was there too, but a couple of times he was absent. Leaving the door unlocked, I selected two pairs of handcuffs from among the other toys Jerry had left in the room. By first attaching them to my wrists I was also able to cuff both of my wrists to the headboard. Then all I had to do was wait. I lay on my back...spread...naked...watching the doorway. The door to the hallway was out of my line of vision, but I watched the doorway to the bedroom with my heart racing and my cock so hard I thought the skin would split. I watched the clock on the nightstand...seven thirty, seven thirty-three, seven thirty-seven. Finally, I heard the door open slowly, and someone called, "Hello? Do I have the right room?" "Yes," I replied, as I saw him move into the doorway. "Nice...!" he said with a grin as he pulled off his shirt. He was about fifty, with a receding hairline, but in very good shape for a man of his age. Then he pulled off his shoes, and I heard the door open again. He looked over his shoulder and called, "This is it, man! In here!" A bearish red-haired man in his forties moved into the doorway, and grinned when he saw me. I didn't know either of them, but I thought the redhead looked familiar. I watched them both undress, and they kept grinning at me. Then the redhead said, "Jerry showed us a photo, but it wasn't a nude." Then I extended the formal invitation that Jerry taught me was appropriate for the times that he wasn't present. "I am Jerry's cumdump, and he's decided to share me with you for the night. Use me however you want. Toys and lube are on the desk, if you like. There are only three rules...No scat. No permanent marks. Condoms are, of course, optional." "Jerry is very generous," said the first guy, and he took the bottle of lube off the desk and handed it to his friend. "You go first, man. I gotta piss." The redhead took the bottle, lubed his cock, and climbed onto the bed. So did the first man. Then I understood. I tilted my head back a bit and opened my mouth as he straddled my face. He dropped his semi-hard cock into my mouth and I started to suck. After two or three pulls, I felt his piss filling my mouth and began to gulp. Salty and bitter, I kept swallowing as I felt his friend lift my legs onto his shoulders and work his cock into me. "Aw, damn that feels good. Drink it all, kid." The redhead groaned and kept pushing steadily until he was balls-deep. Then he started a steady rhythm of fucking with my cock mashed under his furry belly, leaking pre-cum like a faucet. I thought I heard them making out over me, but of course I couldn't see anything. When the first guy was finished pissing, I kept sucking his cock until it got hard. I heard movement in the room, and the first guy said, "Hey guys, c'mon in and take a number." Finally, the redhead slammed into me, and I felt him shudder as he emptied his balls into me. "Fuck!" he grunted as he pulled out and got off the bed. Then the first guy pulled out of my mouth and moved between my legs, announcing "My turn!" When he moved out of the way, I could see that the new guys to arrive were three black men, all pretty fit. I placed their ages from twenty-something to late fifties. Jerry seemed to really enjoy watching me being used by black men. I remember one hotel party that was all black men except for Jerry himself. Eleven men used me that night, several times each. I lost track of the number of loads I took then. This particular party was smaller, only seven men showed up in total. There were a few times when I was left alone in the room between men, just waiting for the next guy to show up. One guy even walked in and didn't even bother undressing. He just unzipped his fly, pulled out his cock, and shoved it in without any lube...not that he needed it with all the cumloads already in me. He fucked with deep grinding thrusts, like he was trying to climb up inside me, and when he finally came, he didn't make a sound...just a kind of grunting sigh. Then he pulled out, got up and left, slamming the door. I didn't even know that the session was over until the last guy pulled out and then undid my handcuffs. "That's it, man." he said. "I'm the last one." I rubbed my wrists to get the circulation going again. As he was dressing, he explained. "Jerry couldn't make it this time, but he gave me a letter to give you. It's on the desk." Then he just said, "See ya," and left. I took another shower, and washed out all the cum, then went to the hall to get the suitcase. I was glad that it was still there. Once, the housekeeping staff had picked it up by mistake, and I had to call the front desk so they could bring it back. I got dressed, packed the suitcase with the un-used toys from the desk, and left it at the foot of the bed. I didn't bother making up the bed, because I knew that Housekeeping would want to change the sheets. On my way out, I picked up the letter from the desk, and locked the door. I was a little surprised that Jerry wasn't there this time, since it was the last day of our contract and his last opportunity to use me. I figured the letter would explain. I opened the envelope as I walked down the hall and pulled out a single sheet. It was very short, and read: "Steven--the seventeen months are over, and I hereby release you from your contract. I am very pleased to have had the opportunity to own you, even for a short time, and have been extremely satisfied with your service. I should tell you that your HIV test from March came back positive." (It was now October) "You may have noticed about that time I began wearing condoms when I used you. Regardless, I will gladly provide a glowing reference to any future owners seeking to enter into a contract with you. Jerry. Masterful1@gmail.com" I read that third sentence again. And again. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. Relieved? Glad? Betrayed? After all, I DID give up complete control to HIM. I gave myself up for him to use, and he did use me. He used me and abused me, taking full advantage of the control he had over me. That was what I had wanted. That was what had gotten me so turned on - to be used with total disregard - however Jerry saw fit. And apparently he saw fit to let me be used by poz men. It must have been part of Jerry's fantasy to use a neg bottom until the bottom converted, knowing that he, Jerry, had forever changed the bottom's life. Or was it? Did he actually try to get me infected, or had it just happened...I can't really say 'accidentally', rather...un-intentionally. I guess I wouldn't know unless I actually asked him. I stood there staring at the note for several minutes. Finally, I decided that I would send him an email and ask if he was interested in renewing our contract.

Ok. So after fantasizing for a few years, hanging out in POZ chat rooms and backing out of dozens of appointments, I was finally ready to take the plunge. I wanted to get bred. I had found a guy on BBRT who looked at my profile a lot, and he was just the type of Daddy I went for—hot, handsome, mid-forties, hairy, kind of a bear, but still pretty fit. We hit it off right away because I was the kind of guy he liked too. At twenty-three years old I’m five foot eight and about one forty-five with hazel eyes and kind of a scruffy beard when I don’t shave. Some guys might call me a cub, but I have a pretty average build, and aside from hairy legs and a nice trail, I’m not that furry. He said that he liked my profile and that we shared some common interests, although most of the things I had listed were things that I was interested in, but had never actually done. We met on the site for cyber-sex a couple times a week, partly because we were too far apart to just hook-up, and partly because we were that into each other. He was so hot, and such a great cyber-fuck, I decided I wanted him to be the one to breed me and told him so. He asked if I was sure and I said, “As sure as I’ve ever been.” With that he asked me a lot of questions about what I’d done, and what my fantasies were, and after exchanging a few emails, he said he’d love to help me. He wired me money for a bus ticket (I had said I didn’t want to fly since it was drive of only a few hours) and said he would pick me up at the station. I caught the bus on Friday afternoon, and planned to spend the weekend in a motel with him and a friend of his from BBRT. I had checked out his profile too, and he was another hot Daddy. I took a long hot shower (where I jacked off twice) before I left, but didn’t pack any extra clothes because I planned on spending the weekend naked. I did bring a small bag with a couple kinds of lube, a pair of handcuffs, and a bottle of poppers. I hoped the other passengers thought it was just my lunch. When the bus pulled into the station and I walked into the lobby, Mark was there waiting with a warm smile and a nod, and he looked even hotter in person. He threw his arm over my shoulder and ushered me out to the car. I asked if his friend had backed out, but he said that Kevin was going to meet us at the motel. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on him, and actually started blowing him in the car on the way to the room. His cock seemed even bigger than in the pics he’d sent me, but had the same tight, pointed head that made it easier to swallow. The motel wasn’t that far from the bus station, so we arrived before I could get him off, but he just said that we would have plenty of time for that this weekend. When we got to the room, it was empty, and Mark took out his phone to call Kevin. I set my bag on the night stand, then kicked off my shoes and sat on the edge of the bed. After a brief phone call, Mark explained that Kevin was on his way, but was caught in traffic. Then he pulled his shirt off, exposing his broad, hairy Daddy-chest with pierced left nipple and said, “I don’t think he’d mind if we started without him.” I stood up as he approached the bed and kissed him while reaching to open his belt. He slipped his tongue through my lips and kissed me deep as his hands roamed from my shoulders to my ass and into my shorts where his fingers found my hole. He was like an octopus! His hands were everywhere as he undressed me. When he finally came up for air and we pulled apart he whipped my t-shirt off over my head and I was standing there naked except for my socks. He grinned as he opened his pants and they dropped down around his ankles. I beat them to the floor as I dropped to my knees and resumed the blowjob I’d started in the car. He braced himself on my shoulders and stepped out of his jeans. I tugged his balls and slowly bobbed my head as I heard him unpacking the contents of my bag. “Oh, ho…” he said, as I heard the handcuffs jingling. Then I heard him set the bottles of lube on the nightstand, and felt his hands kneading my ass. Then I felt one slick finger poking at my tight hole. I moaned a little and pushed back against him. He worked his finger in up to the second knuckle and worked it around a little until I loosened up. “I can’t wait any more, kid.” He said. “I gotta get my cock in this ass.” “Then let’s not wait.” I said with a grin, and got up on the bed. I sprawled on my back and pulled my knees up a little, spreading wide and winked my hole at him. He grabbed some lube and got on his knees on the bed, murmuring “Yeah, boy,” as he lubed his cock, “just like the pics in your profile.” He knelt there for a few seconds, grinning down at me and jacking his cock. Then he moved between my legs and bent down to kiss me. He hooked his arms behind my knees and lifted my ass up a bit more as I felt his sleek and dripping cockhead poking at my hole. He started kissing my neck and whispered, “You ready, boy? I’m goin’ in bare. No rubber. No pulling out.” I moaned as he slipped his tongue in my ear. “Yeah…Yeah daddy. Fuck me!” He started to push, and worked his cock into me in one long stroke, the pointed head and tapered flange of his cock doing its job and facilitating his penetration. He didn’t stop until his balls were mashed against my ass. I must have been grinning from ear to ear, because I heard him chuckle as he pulled back a little and started a slow easy fuck. When I finally opened my eyes, I saw him grinning down at me as he slowly pumped my ass. Then he reached over to the nightstand for the handcuffs and dangled them over me. “Did you bring the key for these?” “It must be in the bag.” I reached over for it and found it in the bottom. He took it from me, dropped it into the nightstand drawer, and I held my wrists up so he could handcuff me to the headboard. As he cuffed me, he checked his watch and wondered what was taking Kevin so long. I said it didn’t matter, since he’d have me all weekend. He wrapped his arms around me and flexed his cock inside me as he ground it in deep. “So when’s the last time you were in a group?” He kept fucking me slowly as we talked, and I could tell he was holding back from the beads of sweat on his forehead. “Never,” I replied. “But your profile said you like groups.” “I’ve only done a few three-ways,” I said, adding “but I’d love to try a four-way.” “Or more-way?” he asked, as I felt his cock twitch. “Kevin and I get a group together a couple times a month. It’s been longer than usual for us, so you’re a welcome relief.” He punctuated his sentence with intermittent kisses on my neck and ears and collarbone, and I could tell he was struggling between getting off and making this last as long as possible. He started picking up the pace, and he had the perfect angle to poke my prostate with every thrust. I could feel my cock drooling pre-cum on my stomach. My cock was so hard it hurt, but I couldn’t reach it to jack off. Then I heard a key-card in the lock and the sounds of the traffic outside as the door opened. The door was in the wall that the headboard was against, so I turned my head to look, and saw Kevin step into the room wearing flip flops, sweatpants and a tank top—clothing that he began to shed as soon as he stepped over the threshold. He was as hot as the pics in his profile, but what really made my cock jump were the other guys who followed him in. The last one locked the door and said, “Looks like this is the place.” Mark was propped up on his elbows as he turned to the door. “Hey, guys. Strip down, I’m almost done.” I can only imagine my expression as I looked up at him and said, “What the hell?” He grinned down at me and said, “I was listening, you know, when you told me about your fantasies and what you wanted to do and try.” His pace continued to quicken. “So I got some of the guys together to load you up good.” My balls started to draw up and my legs began to quiver. I looked around the room and saw seven hot daddy bears, plus Kevin and Mark, all naked now and passing around a bottle of lube as they stroked their cocks. “I made sure they’re all POZ loads too, boy. But I get to be first…!” Then he jammed his cock in to the balls and I couldn’t help but cry out. He stayed in me deep as I felt him begin to tremble. He groaned through gritted teeth, and I felt his cock twitch and pulse as he pumped me full of his toxic load. Feeling his cockhead expand started my own orgasm, and my first blast hit me under the chin, accompanied by cheers and hoots from the others. When his balls were empty, he collapsed on top of me, smearing my load between us. “They all know the rules, kid," he said, “Nothing that isn’t in your profile.” With that he pulled out with a plop and got up just as Kevin was getting onto the bed. As Kevin moved into position in between my legs he grinned and said, “Hey kid,” and sank his cock into my slick and well-opened hole. I grunted and moaned and wrapped my legs around him. “Damn, you’re just as hot as I thought you’d be!” Then he grabbed the headboard and started to get up a good rhythm. I heard a couple of the others cheering him on and urging him to fuck my 'College-boy' ass. Then Mark sat on the side of the bed and I felt his hand roaming across my chest and abs. Another guy sat on the other side of the bed and started to stroke my recovering cock. It was still sensitive, and every time he touched the head, my whole body would jerk. “You just relax and let us use you, boy.” He said, as he pinched one of my nipples. “We’ll make sure you go back home POZ.” I felt my cock jump as he said that, and it squirted more pre-cum into the hand that was stroking it. I looked around the room at the hot, hairy, naked men all standing around and stroking their cocks—their POZ cocks—and waiting their turn in me. And I knew that THEY knew that they WOULD all get a turn. They would get as many turns as they wanted, actually, with me handcuffed like I was. I couldn’t stop any of them if I had wanted to. I tugged at the handcuffs unconsciously and glanced at Mark. He leaned over to kiss me and winked. “You’ll get to check a few more things off your ‘want to try’ list after this weekend, kid.” I looked up at Kevin, grinning and sweating as he humped and pumped over me. Then I looked around the room again as I realized that several of my fantasies were finally going to come true all at once. Then Mark looked to the others and said, “No names either, guys. Let’s just keep it anonymous.” I thought back to the profile I had written almost two years ago, and tried to remember all the things I’d listed before I really knew what I wanted. There were only a few things that I’d actually done. The rest was just a wish list. I remembered listing 'anonymous sex' with the other things that sounded hot, but that I never thought I’d really do. I looked around the room again at all the naked men—men who I’d never met, and would probably never meet again, but who I was ready to spread for and give up my hole for them to each get off in. They were all grinning back at me, and the lube on their cocks made sucking sounds as they stroked them. An involuntary grin crept across my face. “Yeah guys,” I said. “I’m your cum-dump for the weekend. Just use me.” To be continued…