Pighole88

Hot! Keep it going!

Hot! I was perving on the first chapter but the second chapter took me by surprise! More, please.

My dick got hard just from seeing the email that you made an update. Thank you for another great chapter!

Nooooo so not cool.

Eager for more!

Yes please!!!

As always, twisted and sexy work. More please!

GODDAMN

Definitely please keep going with this!

Chapter 2 - Destiny It was about a year later that Conor realized he had really made great strides in getting his life back together. He had a job that paid the bills, a great apartment (albeit a bit out of the way), and a new community of great friends around him. But even better, he was having the best sex of his life in this new city. There was no shortage of cock or hole around, and any given day it was easy to find something (or someone) to do. Now that he was free from the constraints of a safe-only relationship, he was free to fuck the way he always wanted: raw. He felt truly liberated. Life was truly good again. Summer in the city was a wonderland of experience. There seemed to be no shortage of parties or gatherings to go to. Little did Conor know that one particular gathering would forever alter the course of his life. It was a normal birthday party, 30 or so guys crammed into a small apartment, alcohol flowing freely. Conor had been enjoying himself, making liberal use of the bar, and catching up with the gang. He was starting to feel like it would be a good idea to switch to water and head home, when the world suddenly seemed to stop. Far across the room stood a man who sent chills down his spine. Tall, hairy, blonde beard, piercing blue eyes, and biceps that could crack a walnut framed by a loose fitting sleeveless shirt. Conor suddenly found it very hard to swallow, he didn't think he'd ever seen a man this beautiful in his life. He leaned over to the birthday boy and whispered "Who's that?" "Oh, not sure. He came with Joe." Conor couldn't take his eyes off of him. He knew inside that this man was out of his league, but couldn't help staring. He was doing what he thought was a pretty good job of being discrete about stealing glances. Maybe it was worth staying for one more drink. Focused on pouring himself a cocktail, Conor hadn't noticed that he wasn't the only one at the bar anymore. He nearly dropped his drink when he realized who was standing next to him, pouring himself some scotch. Conor was caught totally off guard. "Hey, how's it going?" the stranger asked, totally cool and collected. Conor had to clear his throat to respond. "Uh hey... g-g-good, you?" "Not bad. I'm Chris." He stuck out his giant hand to shake Conor's. "C-c-conor, nice to meet you" Conor was certain that once the pleasantries were over, Chris would head back to his group and that would be the end of it, but that wasn't the case. Chris stood right there, towering over Conor, making normal conversation. Chris had a surprising talent for making Conor feel at ease. After the initial shock of the introduction, Conor found it was far easier to talk to Chris than he had anticipated it would be. In fact, he found that he was a real pleasure to be around, and was really enjoying their conversation. It must have been an hour later when Conor realized what time it was. The party was starting to dwindle as people were saying their goodbyes, and Conor realized it was probably time for him to go. He'd really enjoyed meeting Chris, but again thought Chris was too far out of his league to even entertain the thought of asking for his number, so instead they simply exchanged a pleasant goodnight. Making his way to the door, it hit Conor that he'd had far too much to drink. The room was spinning as he walked, and he now had to face the challenge of putting on his shoes. Shoe #1 - success. He stabilized himself by leaning against the wall. He wasn't as lucky with the next shoe. After losing his balance he began to fall backwards but was miraculously caught by very strong arms, who hoisted him back up. Turning around, he came to look into the steely blue eyes of Chris. "You okay?" "Fine, fine, sorry" Conor rambled, feeling more embarrassed than he'd ever felt in his life. He knew he had to concentrate to get his right shoe on without making a fool of himself in front of Chris. Chris left at the same time, and as they made their way down the stairs, Conor found himself missing the occasional step and holding onto the bannister for dear life. "How are you getting home?" Chris asked. "Uhhhh was going to take the train, should only take about 30 minutes." "Are you okay to take the train right now? I can give you a ride." Conor felt his face go flush at the offer. He couldn't possibly trouble Chris with going out of his way, especially for a drunken fool like Conor. "NO no no, thanks, I'll be fi-" Before he could even finish his statement, he missed the last step and *BAM* landed on his elbows on the floor. Chris rushed to help him up. "Are you okay?" "Ow... yea..." "I'm giving you a ride home." Once in Chris's jeep, there was no doubt about it. Conor was a loser and had just made a giant ass of himself in front of one of the hottest men he'd ever met. The night was warm, and the night breeze blew on Conor's face as they navigated the trek back to Conor's place. The sensation of each turn made Conor's head spin, so he closed his eyes to make it stop. When he opened them again, they were in front of Conor's building. "How's your arm?" Chris said, looking him square in the eye, but Conor didn't sense any judgement. "Sore, I'll be fine though" "Unlock your phone" Chris ordered. "What?" "Unlock your phone and hand it to me". Conor nervously reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and handed it to Chris. "There, you have my number now. Text me when you wake up to let me know you're okay". Conor had no response to that. Should he feel more embarrassed than he already was? Should he be flattered? "S-s-sure... thanks for getting me home" he mumbled, trying to seem sincere even though he could barely get out the words. With that, Conor exited the jeep and stumbled up to his apartment. He hadn't even taken his clothes off when he landed face down on the bed and with that, was officially passed out.

I apologize for the delay on this next chapter. I had it halfway written and then somehow the draft didn't get saved. And I've been locked up in chastity, so have been avoiding BZ because that's just cruel!

Next chapter is halfway done, had to run out of the house before I could finish it.

Chapter 1 - Broken Promises In 2010, Conor fell in love. He was young, had never been in a relationship before, and simple fell head over heels with his boyfriend. They were two young guys living in the big city, and did everything together. It really seemed like it would never end. After all, first love is always forever, right? Conor was a sexual creature, though, and like in many relationships, after a few years the sex began to dry up. At that point, they agreed that it was okay to sleep with other people, as long as it was safe. It seemed to be working, for a while at least, but Conor's fantasies could never be satiated. The more that he found himself being restricted, the more he wanted the taboo. He realized he didn't want the men he was fucking to be wearing rubbers. As they were fucking him, he just wanted to scream "Breed me", "Fill my hole", and "Seed my guts". His tastes in porn were changing, and he could no longer watch porn that even briefly showed a condom. Then, in 2013, Conor slipped up. One Saturday night, he was at a bar without his boyfriend, and ended up in the back room. Before he knew it, a mouth was wrapped around his cock. No harm, right? But as the cocksucker grabbed his ass, his jeans started to slip down, and eventually his ass was not only visible, but vulnerable. Luck would have it that, the minute his ass broke free from his jeans, a cute young punk approached him from behind, tweaking his nipples and chewing on his neck. This sent Conor into full on pig mode. The moment the tip of that uncut cock touched his raw hole, he knew it was over, and he wasn't going to be able to resist his primal urges. Conor didn't end up getting home until 4:00 AM, and when he did he immediately jumped in the shower. He had lost count of the loads he had taken in that dirty back room, and knew he couldn't get into bed with his boyfriend with cum leaking out of him. He spent the whole day Sunday being torn between telling the truth and keeping it a secret. He certainly could have said he was just out with friends late, and leave it at that. But there was a nagging thought that kept crossing his mind... he didn't know the status of any of the men who bred him the night before. What if, in a few months, he tested positive? How was he going to explain that to Brad? The guilt got the better of him. When Brad came home on Sunday evening, Conor asked if they could talk. "I need to tell you something..." Conor started, his voice clearly shaking. "Okay... what?" Conor took in a deep breath. He had never had to break news like this to anyone. "Last night, I had sex at the bar." Brad just stared at him, silent for a moment. "And?" Conor could feel his face burning beet red. Moment of truth. "I... I got fucked... without a condom." Conor couldn't look Brad in the eye at that point, but heard a heavy sigh. Now is the point where he felt he should tell Brad that it wasn't just with one man, but with, hell, he had lost count. After a few hours of talking, and more than a few tears shed, Brad agreed to forgive Conor, as long as it didn't happen again. Happy endings are great, aren't they? Shame there was no happy ending for Conor and Brad. Through the next few months, their relationship had become strained. It felt to Conor like something was just suddenly missing. It went beyond the point of disappointment on Brad's part. Conor felt like Brad had lost all of his love and interest in the relationship, and this tore him apart. Brad started staying later at work almost every night, had no interest in going out to do anything with Conor on the weekends, and would often fall asleep on the couch, not bothering to get up and go to bed. A few months of this was all that Conor could handle before he had to speak up. Brad, it turns out, had never truly forgiven Conor for that night. He was terrified that if he had sex with Conor, he would be risking contracting HIV. On top of all of that, Brad had not always been working late, but rather was at someone's place that Conor didn't know. Brad broke off the relationship that night, and while they decided they could temporarily live together, Conor found out that Brad's new friend was not really just a friend. Conor felt he had gotten what he deserved, and started spiraling into a caustic depression. He had fucked up the only love he'd ever known, was still living in what was becoming a toxic situation, and had nowhere else to live. He had a good support system around him, friends who truly loved him and tried to make his ordeal less of a burden, but that could only last so long. He knew that he needed a fresh start, and one night when Brad came home from what Conor presumed was Brad's new boyfriend's place, Brad saw Conor packing up his things into a suitcase. Conor, in tears, informed Brad that he would be moving - not just to a new apartment, but to a new city. He had to get as far away from this situation as possible, and couldn't bear the idea of running into Brad and, well, whatever the fuck his name was. In a calm, cold manner, wished Conor the best of luck and went into the spare bedroom. Three days later, Conor was on a plane, armed only with his two suitcases, a heavy heart, and a desperate hope that things would get better in his new city.

I think some fisting would be a hot addition, but that's just me. Story is already beautiful as it is.