chunkychains

I did my best to find the same thrill in the antics with my housemates for the next two weeks, but it was sapping my spirit pretending I was into it all as I had once been. I had to resort to imagining I was with Harry, Sid or these friends of theirs while one of my friends was working out my hole, just to get as excited as they would expect me to be without suspecting something was up. But something was up. I had experienced sex that truly did something for me, and I knew that it was not just the risk factor as it felt like I would still want to be completely used by random, older, possibly sick men even when I inevitably converted. I had found my calling, and even increased my workout regimen to make sure I had the maximum virile appeal as possible for the next meet-up. At some level I didn’t want to convert. Not that I was having any second thoughts about it, but more that I didn’t want to miss out on any of the sordid adventures Harry and Sid would no doubt organise for me while I was still a spring chicken yet to be plucked, as it were. I wasn’t sure if they would lose interest once the deed was done, but I suspected it was a possibility. As such, as unlikely as it seemed given how infested they both must be with the virus and all the lengths they’d gone to in order to make me more susceptible, I still hoped that it hadn’t taken just yet. Eventually the two weeks was up, and I headed back to Harry and Sid’s. Harry had messaged to say that we would indeed be going to one of their friend Omar’s parties, which had been hastily arranged in my honour, but he thought it best if I came to theirs first for some pre-gaming drinks and to make sure my bike was securely stored for the night. Sid would then drive us all over to Omar’s place on the other side of the city. This all sounded sensible, so I rode over to their place, got the bike locked behind the side gate, and then joined them out on their patio for some cocktails and cigarettes. Where it had been unseasonably warm on my last visit, there was a definite nip in the air this time so I was glad of my choice of fleece-lined jogging bottoms, tank top, long-sleeved T-shirt and hoodie. It was great to see them again, though I was maybe a tad disappointed the pre-gaming did not extend to a bit of pre-breeding as well. Perhaps sensing this, Sid assured me that I would get all the cock I needed and more that night, and they would also be very happy to have me in their bed when we got back later. He went on to say that Omar liked to have very first dibs on new attendees at his parties, so they were going to respect that and wait their turn. I asked if it was a problem that Marcus and Liam had both bred me even after I had showered and got ready meaning some of their cum was definitely still in there, which caused them both to laugh heartily before Harry noted that Omar would thoroughly enjoy knowing his cock was being lubed by the seed of another couple of hot jocks. I chuckled at that, wondering what the boys would think. Anyway, after Harry and I had got a little merrier, and with Sid wanting the chance to actually have a drink at some point, we headed out to his car and set off. It was a bit of a drive round the ring road, and then we entered a quiet area of mostly semi-detached houses. We pulled up outside a fully detached one, and then got out of the car and went up to the front door. When it was opened, Omar turned out to be a similarly aged and thin man, and he welcomed us with a big smile. “Hello young man” he said to me. “You are very welcome indeed.” “Thank you sir” I replied, nervously smiling at him. “Do come in!” Omar said, standing aside and holding his arm out to direct us inside. The house smelled smoky and a bit spicy, and went I followed Sid into the living room there turned out to be seven other men there, all older, all drinking, some smoking cigarettes. “Evening gents” said Sid. “The guest of honour is here!” Everyone stopped talking and stared at me, which made me feel very self-conscious but also extremely excited. I could feel them undressing me with their eyes, and decided I should go one better. I pulled off my hoodie, and then with a few whistles being emitted by the group, I slowly pulled off my T-shirt so I was just in my tank top. I walked to the centre of the room, and then slowly rotated on the spot while flexing a little. My heart was pounding, but the whistles and whoops from all the old men around me was exciting. “Alright lads” called Harry, while laughing, “calm down and let’s get the boy a drink or two before we let you loose on him.” While everyone else was sitting on the many sofas and armchairs around the room, I perched on a stool in a spot where they could all see me properly. I lit up a cigarette after Omar gave me a glass of champagne, and then actually managed to have a few conversations with everyone there. As Harry and Sid had been, they were particularly interested to hear about life in the student house, with more than a couple of them commenting that I should bring some of my housemates with me next time. I joked that I would ask them, while a little part of my brain wondered whether any of them would actually be up for something like this, even if they got themselves on PrEP first. Anyway, after a few drinks and cigarettes, Omar suggested we could maybe get proceedings underway. I was sufficiently lubricated with champagne to not feel any nerves by this point, so I readily followed his lead out into the garden and down to a pretty sizeable outbuilding at the far end. The lights were already on, and when we went inside I found myself in a facility that made Harry and Sid’s playroom seem laughably under-equipped. It was a huge space that I guessed had once been a garage, and had numerous black leather sofas and armchairs in a large circle in the middle, and elsewhere there were a couple of slings and benches, mats, cushion-topped barrels, another of those St Andrew’s Cross frames, and a fully equipped bar. Masses of shelves and glass-fronted cupboards everywhere displayed all kinds of sex toys, leather gear, whips and all kinds of other things. “Fuck me” I said, taking it all in. “That’s what I intend to do” Omar whispered in my ear. He then steered me over to the middle of the sofa area, and I undressed while the other men all got themselves settled. By the time I was naked Omar was back from the bar area with a couple of bottles of champagne, and he gave me a small glass while topping up everyone else. I just stood, gyrating a little, waiting for Omar’s next move as I knew he would have the first go with me. In time the men started beckoning me over so they could touch and feel me, and it wasn’t long before one of them swallowed my cock. Then the next guy turned me round so he could plant his face between my cheeks. So it went on, until all of them including Harry and Sid had enjoyed a few minutes to appreciate my body. I had never felt so wanted in all of my life, and it was intoxicating. But, eventually, Omar came and took hold of my wrist, pulling me back into the centre of the space. “Gentlemen” he announced, “Harry and Sid have, I think we can all agree, outdone themselves tonight!” Cheers went up from everyone else, as Harry and Sid took comedic little bows. “But” said Omar, “we must now say something about Aaron here. Never have we had such a handsome young hunk in this room, and yet tonight here he is, willingly making himself our plaything for the night.” More cheers erupted, and Harry and Sid grinned at me as I blushed. “So” continued Omar, “the normal rules will apply. Everyone will pick a number from the hat, and the breeding of handsome Aaron here will go in that order once I’m done with him. Then, you’ll all be free to have whatever fun you want with him and each other. Clear?” Everyone nodded or raised their glasses to signal agreement. “Now, Aaron, I understand you’re here just to bottom, right?” Omar asked me. “Yes sir” I said. “Well, OK then, though some of the boys here are going to be disappointed to not be able to take a ride on that impressive member of yours” Omar said, chuckling. “As for the rest of you, that means you’ll need to be getting it from each other, but let’s try to make sure Aaron here goes home overflowing so maybe save your special loads for him.” The men cheered and chuckled. “Before we begin, Aaron” Omar said to me, “let’s just be clear about a few things.” “OK?” I said. “You’re neg?” “Yes sir” I replied. “You’re not on PrEP?” “No sir” I said. “And you know we’re all poz?” “Yes sir” I said, smiling at him. “Good” he said. “I know Harry and Sid have already got you started down this road, but tonight you’re going to be taken to a whole other level.” “I hope so sir” I said, causing the men to cheer. “Well” said Omar, smiling at me, “let’s get this underway.” He steered me towards one of the slings, which I turned around and hopped into. I raised up my feet and allowed him to put them into the hoops, and then I shuffled down until he was content with my position. He smiled down at me and reached out to rub my stomach muscles, before disappearing out of view and immediately starting to rim and finger my hole. “There’s cum in here” he said from his crouched down position. “Yeah, three of my housemates bred me before I set out” I said, causing a few of the guys on the sofas to chuckle. “Oh fuck yeah” growled Omar, as he stood up straight while pulling off his top, pushed his cock against my hole, and then propelled his entire length into me. “Oh fuck me!” I yelled out at the surprise of the sudden penetration, before immediately starting to groan as Omar went straight to a rapid pounding. I reached up and gripped the chains holding the sling, and after adjusting to the fuck, took to staring at the man who was inside me, encouraging him when we made eye contact, and otherwise looking at the small biohazard tattoo on the left side of his chest. Fuck, this is what I needed. I was a tall, muscled, 20 year old jock, I was willingly being fucked raw by a poz cock again, and I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I turned and looked at all the other men over on the sofas, and somehow my cock got even harder as I thought about how they were all going to be using me for hours tonight. If Harry and Sid’s initiation had not done the job, surely by the end of tonight I would be well on my way to conversion. Omar eventually reached climax, and I grinned at him as he pumped his load into me. He took some time to get his breath back, but eventually pulled his softening cock from me before pushing a couple of his fingers into my dripping hole and nicking me with his nails a bit. He looked up at me with a devilish grin as he did this, meaning I knew it was deliberate but I didn’t care. Then he promptly withdrew his digits, walked round to the side of the sling, and presented those same fingers to me. I leaned forward and took them into my mouth, looking up at him as I sucked on them as seductively as I knew how. “Good boy” he said, before taking his fingers away. “I am already looking forward to fucking you again later, but now it’s time for everyone else to have their turns.” “Yes sir” I said. Omar went over to the bar and picked up a bucket that he took to the sofas, and every other man there picked a piece of paper out of it that must have had a number on, not that I could see from where I was. Some of them groaned in frustration, presumably having to wait longer than others, and most of them reached for the champagne to top up their glasses. One guy, however, was already walking towards me with a big smile on his gaunt face. He pulled off his top as he approached to reveal a distinct pot belly, and I realised he must be as full-blown as Harry, if not more so. He wasted no time in ploughing into me, and I settled back for another frenetic fuck from a sick old man who could not believe I was there. All of them had their turns with me in the sling, though the fact that Omar checked with each of them if they wanted me somewhere else made it clear that they all wanted to look at my face and torso while they fucked me for the first time. I was quite happy with this too as it was turning me on no end watching these guys sweat and strain as they hammered away inside me. I even found myself thinking about the service I could provide to men like these up and down the land who all dreamed of rutting someone like me. I loved it, and resolved to keep myself in shape for as long as possible in the future. Once they were all done, Omar helped me get my legs down from the sling straps, and handed me a glass of champagne and a cigarette. I joined the guys for a few drinks and smokes while they worked themselves up for the next session, also giving me the opportunity to stretch out my limbs a bit after so long in the same position. Cum was continually dribbling out of me, but neither I nor anyone else there cared. We chatted, with me this time getting them to focus on regaling me with stories about the things they had got up to at these parties before. Some of it was pretty wild. The 18 year old twink who had spent the night locked in the sling and had converted a week later. The 45 year old married dad of three who had willingly blown up his life by spending several hours kneeling over the back of one of the sofas. The couple in their thirties who had enjoyed a couple of parties so that they were knocked up before their flamboyant gay wedding. The sugar daddy who had found out his boy was a chaser, wanted to be the one to knock him up before the lad was tempted to cheat any more than he was doing so already, and therefore needed to get himself pozzed. There were many other stories too, alongside the normal goings-on when the group just met up without any outsiders to have some fun together. Eventually their loins were stirring again, and Omar suggested it was time to get the second round going. He necked the last of his champagne, and then went over to one of the cabinets and took out something that seemed to be made of a lot of leather straps. He came over to me, and only once he held it up could I see roughly what it was. He got me to perch on the stool so he could reach my neck better, and put a thick padded collar at one end of the thing round my throat and fastened it behind. He then had me stand up with my back to him, and proceeded to fasten my wrists in successions in cuffs behind me that were attached by a strap to the collar. Once he was done my arms were securely in place, but not uncomfortably so. He shooed the guys off one of the sofa and helped me to kneel down on it and rest my chest on the back of it, deciding to then grab one of the cushions and put it under my chest to raise me up a bit and also make me more comfortable. He got me to spread my knees a little wider, and then I soon felt him begin to finger me before his face and tongue were in my arsecrack. He didn’t spend long there though, and after pulling me back a little he pressed his cock against my hole and slid in, using just the toxic cum in there as lube. As he began to fuck me again, one of the guys sat down next to me on the sofa, and I turned my head to face him. “You like getting fucked boy?” he asked. “Yeah” I panted. “You like taking poz cock and cum in your hole, don’t you boy?” he continued, while starting to stroke his cock. “Fuck yeah” I said. “You know” he continued, “Harry and Sid carry the same strain, but everyone else has something different.” “Fuck yeah” I said again. “There’s gonna be quite a cocktail in your bloodstream by the end of tonight” he said, giving me an evil grin. “Even if you were on PrEP you might not have avoided a pozzing, and they’re gonna struggle to find you meds that work after this.” “Oh fuck” I said, my cock hardening even more. He watched me getting fucked for a couple more minutes, before getting up and going round to the back of the sofa. He presented his cock to me, and I opened my mouth to take it in. As I swallowed him, he put his hand on my shoulder to help me remain steady as I was fucked hard, given the bondage gear was preventing me from clinging on to the furniture myself. I closed my eyes and thought about how I had truly found my place in life, trussed up and vulnerable, being spit-roasted by two toxic cocks. I was sure that I was going to be experiencing everything that was on offer in that playroom, but thought that this would be hard to top. Omar eventually sped up and blew in me, and I moaned around the cock in my mouth as I felt another poz load being pumped into my hole. Omar then withdrew, prompting the guy in my mouth to do the same so he could take over at my rear end. Omar briefly had me lick his cock clean as the other man began his entry, but our host soon slumped down on the sofa next to me to get his breath back while the other guy began to pound into me. I turned my head so I could see the rest of the room while I was thrust back and forward, noticing that Harry and Sid were both in slings getting fucked by their friends, and someone else was down on a mat on all fours getting spit-roasted. Other guys were just walking around watching the action while they stroked their cocks, I suspected in anticipation of being next to take their second turn in me. I slightly zoned out at that point, watching all the old sick men having an orgy while I was being buggered, imagining how I was going to look by their age. Would I indeed be so toxic that I could not get medicated? Did I even want to suppress the virus once it overtook me? These thoughts filled my mind as I panted and rocked, loving the feel of the man inside me. Then, out of nowhere, I suddenly started to imagine some of my housemates in this scene. Marcus and Josh in the slings. Bailey strapped to the St Andrew’s Cross. Tony strapped down on the fuckbench. Leroy bent over a barrel. Everyone else somewhere in the room taking it from these old men. This was all too much for me and I involuntary came all over the sofa, the orgasm causing my hold to clamp down so much that the man in me also lost it and started breeding me. As he pumped me full of his toxic swimmers, I resolved there and then to find some way to bring the other guys in on my kink, as we had all shared in theirs… To be continued…

In the UK we don’t have the fraternity system, with perhaps the closest equivalent being the ‘colleges’ at some older universities, but even this is really very different. No, on this side of the Pond we will usually have our first year at uni in individual rooms within a hall of residence or some other university-run student accommodation, and then head off with a group of people into the local rental market for flats and houses for the subsequent academic years. Sometimes houses are rented just for a year at a time, sometimes a group may do a deal with a landlord to stay for the whole of the two to three years required to finish their degrees with little or no rent paid over the summer break. However, the house I rented with nine other friends for two full years had a definite ‘frat house’ quality about it. Such a large group together is very rare, not least because houses of that size don’t tend to be marketed to students, but we had landed this one thanks to its owner having died (an old lady who lived by herself, if you can believe it for such a large place), and the executor of the estate having given up trying to sell it in a weak market and instead opting to try for a guaranteed income off the local student population. The penalties for damage were pretty severe, but the discounts for doing it up were also very attractive. We got them to put in a new kitchen and do up the main bathroom before we arrived, but we had then put some care into gradually re-painting the house, kitting it out from IKEA (recharging reasonable elements of that to the estate), and we also tackled the jungle-like garden. Such a large group was possible as we had all been together on campus in a mini-block at Hatton Hall, and had really bonded. Yes, there were a few others in that block who hadn’t really integrated with the rest of us, but to end up with there being ten guys who were randomly placed together by a computer who all got along like we did was quite amazing. All of us were athletic (albeit doing different sports), we all liked to have fun, and if we were Stateside we would have been thought of as quintessential ‘jocks’. On the surface at least. You see, we also shared something else in common, namely a bit of ‘flexibility’ when it came to sex. This was discovered guy by guy over the course of the first term, until there was basically bed-hopping happening throughout the block every night. What everyone got up to varied as far as I could tell, but the ten of us all played with everyone else at some point and occasionally things happened in larger groups. Plenty of the guys also went off and found fun with girls too, whilst Josh was out and proud from the outset so he was having plenty of encounters with guys elsewhere too. The summer before we moved into the house is when I decided that I was basically gay as well. As much as I did feel something for a woman’s form, after the year I’d had in Hatton Hall I knew my future was going to be all about guys. You see, I had discovered that I was an absolute power-bottom. I knew some of the other guys took it up the arse as well, but without fail every bit of fun I had with my blockmates involved me getting fucked and bred. I was so insatiable that I let it be known I was available whenever and wherever needed, so in truth I probably got the most action out of all of us given how many times in the average day one of them would stop by for a quick fuck. I loved longer sessions or even when I slept the whole night wrapped up in bed with any one of them, but dropping my shorts and bending over the sink when one of them was horny was awesome too. Contrary to what porn may suggest, I was the tallest and most well-built of all of us. So, anyway, that brings me back to the house we moved into at the start of our second year. We had all come back a couple of weeks early from our family homes around the country to work on the place before we had lectures or coursework to worry about, and it was no problem that some bedrooms became uninhabitable for short periods as we were all so happy sleeping with each other. I kept up my ‘duties’ throughout, being available whenever any of them fancied a fuck, though it wasn’t exactly uncommon to be finding the others fucking or blowing each other too. Even Marcus, who I think had been strictly a top during our first year, was now readily getting on all fours after what he called ‘an eventful summer in France’. Fortunately, with us all being 19 or 20, there was no shortage of cum to go around. We did continue to work on the house once term started, but had managed to get most of it done before then so tended to only do things when we could be bothered. This may surprise you for a house full of jocks, but we were all pretty committed to our studies and therefore made sure we worked hard. With sports teams and of course sex of various kinds taking up time, we only occasionally (and often individually) went back to the master to-do list on the fridge to see if we could tick off a job or two. The two smaller bathrooms and the extra downstairs toilet were laughably retro and remained that way all year, and we were still using quite a bit of the old lady’s furniture around the place, but it was absolutely fine. We also looked after it all well, with no-one getting up to ridiculous antics, and me, Josh, Bailey and Sean always going outside in the garden to smoke even if the weather was shite. So yes, the sex. Well, let’s just say we started getting a bit bolder. This was our own place, no others to worry about, and we were all just very relaxed with ourselves and each other. A couple of the guys still thought of themselves as straight, most as bi, a couple were unsure, Josh had been out from the start, and no-one batted an eyelid when I told them of my own epiphany (perhaps it was obvious to them given I was essentially the resident cumdump). With none of that hanging over us, we started to talk about or just introduce our own interests, kinks or whatever. For instance, where Tom would only occasionally order someone on to their back so he could ride their cock, once you put a collar on him and chained him to something, he started to give me a run for my money in the cumdump department. Hugh revealed some pent-up desires from his many years in rugby changing rooms, which we eventually acted out by all wearing some old rugby kits he had sourced, gathering in the large main bathroom, and making him the focus of a bukkake session (which he enjoyed so much it became a monthly theme night, albeit with things evolving such that he and I would then take the other guys’ second loads from behind). Sam was not a smoker, but if you saw him with a packet of cigarettes then you knew it was a call to action as he would soon be in the shed at the end of the garden with his head hanging out of the window, his arse available for whatever anyone wanted to do to it m, all while he chain-smoked and - randomly - listened to music on a set of big headphones. I honestly don’t think I could accommodate the size of dildo that Sam has taken in that shed, and yet the rest of the time he rarely gets fucked. Bizarre. These are just some of the kinks we had fun with, amongst many others. Beyond that there were toga parties, strip poker, garden wrestling and many other activities that were a lot of fun and always ended up in an orgy. My kink, however, began to manifest after finding a couple of websites by accident on which I found either porn or stories that initially horrified me but, owing to the fact they also fascinated me, in time I realised tapped into something deeper. I did love going to sleep with one of the guys, whether I was the big or little spoon, but I fundamentally got off on just being used by all of them. Now, I had started to realise, my need for this was growing and I was actually starting to want to expand my horizons a bit. Yes, having nine hunks right on hand who are happy to breed you regularly is amazing, but I wanted to be truly used. Anonymously. Regularly. Dangerously. So, unlike everyone else, I started to look elsewhere to explore my kink rather than it being something the guys helped with. I started hooking up with men off apps, always seeking older guys who wanted to bareback and breed me. That just seemed to be part of what I was seeking, and I literally never did anything with younger guys or sex involving condoms. Even that wasn’t enough, so on a weekend when quite a few of the guys were either at away matches for their teams or had gone home to visit family, I headed into the National Trust estate near the campus via a couple of loose fence panels I had read about so that I could bend over by a certain tree and take whatever came my way. I also started visiting a disused toilet block next to the railway sidings that turned out to be a great place to get fucked through a gloryhole. In short, I had become an absolute cumslut. But it was via an app that my itch really got scratched. A guy in his 60s messaged me saying that he and his husband would like me to spend the night with them, and it seemed from my profile like I might enjoy that. His profile had some fields left empty, but it was in the photo album he unlocked for me that there were a couple of images that got my blood racing. Both were from the man’s POV while he was fucking his man, and clearly visible on his torso as well as his husband’s lower back were biohazard symbol tattoos. I wrote back and asked if they were poz, and he replied to say they were and they think that I want to be too. This freaked me out, despite the risks I had been taking lately despite not having got round to getting on PrEP, and I quickly closed the app. But I could not get the man’s words or images out of my mind, with the fascination eating away at me for three days. It was after I was left feeling strangely unsatisfied despite Liam, Bailey and Marcus having bred me in quick succession that I booted up the app again and wrote back a short and simple “yes please”. It took a couple of weeks before we managed to find a mutually convenient evening for us to meet up. During that time I flip-flopped repeatedly on whether I wanted to go through with this, but every time I nearly cancelled or thought about getting on PrEP, something stopped me. Despite the logical part of my brain telling me this was crazy, that it would probably mess up a great thing I had going in the house, that it would forever limit my options for a relationship and so on, I could not keep down the other part of me that just wanted to have this sordid experience. I did not know at the time what bugchasing was, nor had it been any part of my life prior to the guy messaging me, but I could not shake the newfound need to go through with it. It was a Friday night that, after a final fretful hour of soul-searching and drinking vodka to calm myself, I cycled over to the address the guy had given me. When he answered the door I was a little taken aback at how much thinner he looked than in his pictures, but he greeted me with a warm smile before coming out to open the gate to their side alley so I could securely store my bike. I then went inside, finding the house to be nicely decorated and very cosy. His husband was in the kitchen and came out to meet me, and while he was maybe a little beefier than the guy I had been messaging, his skin and muscles still looked a bit off. I realised then that this was the effect of them being poz, and my stomach gave an involuntary shudder. Still, I held my nerve and did not bolt for the door, instead joining them on their back patio for a couple of cigarettes and a few shots of whisky. The guy I had been messaging was called Harry, and his husband was Sid. They talked to me about uni life, sports, and marvelled when I described the goings-on at the house. Indeed, this got them so turned on that they started to become quite tactile, touching my arms and shoulders a bit before getting bolder and starting to feel my biceps, pecs and buttocks. When we were all getting more than a little horned up, we headed upstairs to their bedroom and got down to business. I stripped down to just my jockstrap, and then lay down on the bed on my front. Over the next maybe half an hour, either in that position, on all fours, or on my knees with my head on the bed, I let them prepare me for what was to follow. They fingered and rimmed me, and then towards the end pushed a toothbrush into me which I realised was probably to make me more susceptible to their HIV. Some part of my mind was screaming at me, but I was otherwise overtaken by the moment and just allowed it all to happen. Then, without much fanfare, Harry climbed up onto the bed, positioned himself on my back, and slowly but firmly pushed his cock into me. He let me adjust for a moment, and then began to rock his hips so that he was sliding in and out of my hole. Sid sat down on the bed next to me and gently began stroking my head as his husband fucked me, which did actually help me to relax and almost forget what was happening as I enjoyed the feelings radiating out from my hole. It was only stunted breathing and a final lunge into me that indicated Harry was cumming inside me. After he had calmed down and dismounted, Sid went round to the other end of the bed and encouraged me up onto all fours. He fingered me a little, before pushing his own cock into me. Harry watched this happen, before he came round and climbed up onto the bed so he was sitting in front of me. I instinctively opened my mouth and allowed him to push his softening cock inside, the familiar taste of cum being mixed with something metallic. Somehow that didn’t send me into a panic, and I instead just closed my eyes and focused on swirling Harry’s cock around in my mouth as Sid’s fucking of my arse got progressively faster. He growled as he slammed into me one final time, and unlike with Harry, I could feel his cock throbbing in my hole as he pumped me full of poz cum. This pushed me over the edge, and I came in my jockstrap without ever having touched my own cock. After some time coming down from the heat of the moment, the two men disengaged from me and got off the bed. Harry told me to stay put for a moment, before fishing a buttplug out of a bedside drawer which he lubed and then pushed into me. They then got their dressing gowns off the back of the door, Sid fished a spare one stolen from a hotel out of the wardrobe for me, and we all went back downstairs. They mixed some cocktails, and then we went back outside to smoke. They wanted only to talk more about the antics that my housemates and I got up to, so over a couple of drinks and cigarettes I regaled them of the various orgies, gangbangs and other activities we had engaged in at the hall of residence and subsequently the house. This, I realised, was entirely about getting them both hard again, but it was also getting me horny so that I was more than ready when Sid suggested we go back upstairs. This time, however, Harry opened the door next to their bedroom, and I went in to see that it was not a guest bedroom but actually a sex playroom. Even in the relatively small space available they had installed a sling on a frame, a padded leather bench of some description, a cushioned plastic floor mat, and a huge frame that looked like the St Andrew’s flag on its side. It was this that they steered me over to, and I obediently raised my arms and spread my legs to allow them to secure me in place using padded leather cuffs on chains at each corner. Harry pulled the chains tight and secured them behind the frame, and then with barely a hesitation, Sid took up position behind me. He pulled out the buttplug, and then pushed his cock into me in one quick go. “You like that boy?” he growled. “Yes” I panted. “You like having my poz cock in you again?” he continued. “Yes” I shouted, my heart racing. “I’m going to fuck you and breed another poz load into you” he said. “You want that?” “Yes” I growled. “Not just poz” he said. “We both have AIDS, and soon you will too!” “Oh fuck” I panted, while bending my legs as much as I could to get my arse closer to him and his cock. The gentle nature of the two initial breedings was gone, and for the duration of this fuck Sid pounded me roughly while spewing a litany of poz talk. I could only moan, whimper and repeatedly tell him how much I wanted it. When he finally slammed in and pumped his load into me, I was almost delirious. Harry soon took his place, and I was once again being fucked hard by a toxic cock and loving every minute of it. Finally I was being used in a way that scratched that deepest of itches in me, and any thoughts about the ramifications were silenced. I was yelling for Harry to breed and poz me by the time he eventually did. They left me standing there while they got their breaths back, and then they worked together to unhook the chains from the cross before leading me over to the padded bench. I got down on it on all fours, and then they secured the same chains to hooks on its frame. Harry then went to open the curtains and window, while Sid fetched a large metal bowl from somewhere and placed it in on the floor below my face. He opened a bottle and poured a little water into the bowl, before putting a straw in the bottle and holding it to my lips so I could take a few sips. I wasn’t sure what the bowl was for until a cigarette was popped between my lips and lit, realising it was to allow me to smoke despite being immobilised on the bench. I heard them also lighting up, before they then set to work at my cum-soaked rear end. What I guessed must be a toothbrush was pushed into me again, and for quite a while I just huffed on the cigarette as they brushed my insides, stroked my buttocks and occasionally rubbed my lower back. Eventually the cigarette was nearly done and I allowed it to drop into the water in the bowl, getting strangely fixated on watching it go out and then bob around while my insides were being roughed up. I knew this was about allowing their toxic cum to soak into my bloodstream more easily, and I was fully on board with it. “I hope you’re comfy, boy” Harry said from next to me. “Yes” I replied. “Good, because you’re going to be on this bench until dawn” he said, causing Sid to chuckle. “You tell us when you need a cigarette or some water, but you’re staying put until we’re done with you.” “Yes sir” I replied, somehow sensing this was expected of me. I suppose I should have been concerned or even panicked over the situation. My phone and wallet were both in my shorts next door, and being locked in place like this it would be easy for them to point my phone at my face to unlock it and then gain access to anything and everything they wanted. I think at some level I sensed that this was not something these two would do, but really I was just revelling in how I was being used as a hunky piece of meat to fuck, breed and poz however they saw fit. And fuck, breed and poz me they did. For the next few hours they took it in turns to be inside me, on occasions both leaving for a while to rest, drink or whatever, always with a buttplug left shoved in me. Their only interest at my front end was giving me the occasional cigarette or sip of water, and they were otherwise focused solely on rimming, fingering, fucking, breeding, brushing and plugging my arse (always in that order). On one occasion they were gone for longer, and I too fell asleep with my chin resting on the end of the padded bench, with my sleep being broken by the buttplug starting to be pulled out of me again. Even when I woke up I was still happy to be there and doing what we were doing, which I reflected later on was a sure sign it was indeed what I wanted. It was well after dawn when they finally unhooked the chains from the bench, and I stiffly and wearily got to my feet. As they seemed to now be completely done in I figured it was OK to also unbuckle and remove the leather cuffs from my wrists and ankles, before I did some stretches and shakes to wake up my limbs again. During one of these the buttplug was suddenly propelled out of me onto the mat, and I looked down in awe at the copious drops of cum that marked its landing spot, while feeling even more oozing out of me and down my legs. Knowing that this cum had been full of toxic swimmers when it was pumped into me caused me to spring a hard-on despite the number of times I had ejaculated hands-free over the course of the night. However, the two guys made it clear they were all fucked-out, so I would have to take care of my dick myself! Sid pointed me towards the guest bathroom to get cleaned up, and when I emerged from a glorious shower I found a pair of nice fluffy towels sitting on one side of the sink and my own clothes all neatly folded up on the other. I dried off and got dressed, before heading downstairs to find the two of them cooking pancakes and bacon, with bananas, blueberries and other bits already out on the table. I gratefully accepted a cup of coffee from the fancy machine, and then sat at the table and looked out at the sun on the small garden. “You know” said Harry, as they put the plates of food out and sat down, “you do not look at all like the normal chasers we encounter.” “Chasers?” I asked. “Guys looking to get infected” said Sid. “We get a lot of them through these doors, and they never look like you” said Harry. “Oh” I said, looking down at my plate. “I guess… I guess I didn’t know this was something I wanted or had even thought about until you contacted me.” “That was only two weeks ago” said Harry, sounding surprised. “Are you sure this is what you want?” asked Sid, reaching out and clasping the back on my hand on the table. “Yes” I said, looking up and directly at him. “I knew something was missing, and this feels like what it is.” “Well, OK then” said Sid, giving me a warm smile. “In that case we’ll probably need to book you in for a repeat visit.” “You will?” I asked. “It can take a few goes” said Harry, “particularly with a handsome hunk as young and virile as you.” I could not help but blush and smile at that compliment, somehow mentally skipping over the dark context. Yeah, when I looked in the mirror I liked what I saw, and I knew the idea of fucking me appealed to almost every top out there even if they normally preferred twinks or bears (my track record on the apps being proof of that). But it was still always a nice surprise when a guy actually told me they found me hot, as so few ever commented on it and instead just wanted to get me bent over. “But you know” said Harry, “it doesn’t have to be here.” “What do you mean?” I asked, before hungrily taking a first mouthful of breakfast. “Well, it seems like you maybe enjoy it all a bit sordid, right?” he said, to which I just nodded. “In that case you might enjoy it if we took you somewhere else next time.” “Maybe let a few other guys enjoy you too” said Sid. “We have some friends who have probably never been with someone like you.” “Where would you take me?” I asked, after swallowing the food. “Well” said Harry, “there’s a sauna we like to go to where I imagine you could spend several hours without your arse being empty, there’s a couple of other places where men like to meet where we could whore you out for a few hours to whoever was there, and of course our friend Omar hosts parties sometimes where you would be very popular as the only neg guy in attendance.” “Fuck” I said quietly, causing both of them to chuckle. “I think that’s a yes” laughed Sid. Over the rest of breakfast and a short cigarette break afterwards we made some plans for future dates, and they also made me promise to message them if I started feeling unwell. Then, with time ticking on and a need for me to get back to start on an essay paper, I thanked each of them with an uncharacteristic kiss before I retrieved my bike and set off home. On the ride back I was most surprised by how untroubled I was by what I had done, perhaps expecting that the morning-after regret would set in, and then on the last bit of the journey I switched to concocting a convincing version of the truth involving a middle-aged gym bunny couple, just in case any of the guys asked about my night. However, it was never actually brought up, and there was only a passing comment from Jack about the state of my hole as he slid his cock into it that evening. Pretty soon things were back to normal for me, but deep down I knew that an internal clock could have been set ticking, and failing that I had only to wait another couple of weeks before I got another opportunity at whichever venue Harry and Sid chose. I could not wait. To be continued… —— NOTE: There can be mixed feedback to use of images within stories. However, I am one of those people who thinks very visually, and sometimes creating versions of the characters can inspire and help me to craft the stories I write. In this case I ended up with a few versions of a scene, showing Aaron (our narrator), Harry and Sid smiling together in the garden while in their dressing gowns after the first gentle breeding. Rather than ruin this story for those who prefer to use their own imagination, I will instead post a link to the gallery created specifically for this topic. I may end up adding to it depending on where the story goes, or I may not. I am also not saying which version is the one that has stuck with me as being who I think the three characters are, so that anyone who wants to take a look can make their own unbiased choice. If you like this sort of thing then enjoy, and if you don’t then please just leave it be. Gallery: AI Images for The House

Part 5: A New Life With the truth loudly declared, and after only a couple of minutes of fucking me, Tyke slammed in and unloaded in my hole. My head, meanwhile, went into overdrive. “You’re poz?!” I squealed, all while his dick throbbed inside me. “Yes, we are toxic” said Giftig, suddenly giving my nipple a squeeze. At that point my brain basically shut down. I didn’t panic, I didn’t resist, I didn’t hopelessly try to escape. I just shut down. It was like I was outside my body now looking on, as Tyke withdrew and Giftig took his position. I just lay there as the older man’s thicker cock stretched me wider, and I said or did nothing as he fucked me roughly until he too unloaded what I now knew to be toxic cum into me. I remained there, just existed there, unable to really react as Tyke then stepped back up for a second round having already regained an erection. I just lay there as they left the room for a while, coming back eventually smelling of cigarettes and carrying some drinks. I was on some kind autopilot as Tyke gave me a few sips of water from a bottle, followed by Giftig sliding into me for his second pozzing of my hole of the evening. After that fuck, they released me from the sling and helped me stand up. Tyke handed me the bottle of water to drink from, and then Giftig gave me a glass of rum. Tyke draped a dressing gown over my shoulders, they both put one on themselves, and then they walked me back out into the living area and out on the balcony. Tyke lit up two cigarettes again and handed me one, and then they just looked at me as I smoked. “Why?” I eventually asked, speaking softly. They both hesitated, with even Giftig looking uncharacteristically unsure, before Tyke started talking and laid it all out for me. It turned out they had recognised me at the festival, having seen me at the front of the crowd in Panarica gawping at them on many previous occasions, and it just so happened that I was exactly what they were looking for. Tyke, it transpired, was feeling increasingly unhappy being solely a bottom in their relationship, and while they were happy to play with others to deal with this, he realised that what he actually wanted was a partner he could top. They had settled on the idea of bringing a third into their relationship, but had both wanted to be the ones to ‘make’ that guy. They had talked about me, realising long before I did that I wanted them, and Tyke had rather taken a liking to how I looked. They weren’t sure I was the one, obviously, but Tyke in particular had connected well with me at the cottage and decided I was worth pursuing. Where they might have suggested I go and get some PEP immediately after the festival if there had not been that connection, they knew they wanted me to be their new boy. What, it turned out, they were planning to offer me was that I move in with them. I could have the smaller guest room as my own, but I would be sleeping with one or both of them most of the time. I would keep working to have my own money, but would not have to pay rent or anything as I was there as the third member of a throuple in a wealthy household where no more income was needed. Furthermore, they would help get me started in the DJ world, if I wanted to move away from doing manual labour to something that was clearly a passion of mine. In short, they wanted me to be with them, and they wanted to make my dreams come true. It was all a lot to take in, and a long silence followed after Tyke finished. They did not feel the need to say anything more, and just kept me supplied with cigarettes and rum as I slumped into one of the balcony sofas and thought about what was happening to me. Obviously the alcohol loosened me up, but the clincher came when Tyke eventually moved to sit right next to me and put his arm round me. I leaned over and rested my head against his neck, and immediately began to realise that I did actually want this. I wanted to be theirs. Not because of the DJ opportunities, the fancy apartment, the chains or any of that. I wanted to be with Tyke. I wanted to get to know Giftig more now that I had seen glimpses of his softer side. I wanted this. “Yes” I said, rather quietly. “Yes?” Tyke whispered. “Yes” I said again, a little louder. “That is good” said Giftig, leaning over and gently rubbing my thigh. “I’m scared” I said. “Don’t be” said Tyke, squeezing me gently. “We will look after you.” I shifted my position to be able to turn my head to look up at him, and then pushed forward to plant my lips on his. He kissed me back deeply, before I pulled away and sat up properly, turning to face Giftig. He shuffled forward and off his chair so that he was kneeling in front of me, and I leaned forward and our lips met. He reached around and put his hand on the back of my head to pull me in for a deep kiss, his natural dominance being evident. As we kissed, Tyke shuffled forward next to me so he could put his other arm on Giftig’s shoulder, and then as we pulled back from the kiss he leaned in himself and took over the kissing of his boyfriend. Then he turned and kissed me again, before leaning back and looking between us with a smile on his face. “I’m getting cold” he said. “How about we go back inside and warm up?” He was not, of course, talking about just going and sitting indoors. Mere minutes later I was strapped to a padded bench in the playroom getting spitroasted, and then later on I was back in the sling but without my wrists held in place this time so I could lean forward and touch their tattooed torsos or rub my own dick after freeing it from the jockstrap. Then, after a shower together in their huge en suite, we went to bed to sleep. I nodded off with my face close to Tyke’s and Giftig’s thick cock lodged inside me, and in the early hours I was woken up to him beginning to fuck me again. After he had blown another poz load in me, Tyke had me turn and lie on my front so he could slide in and gently fuck - or perhaps even make love - to me while Giftig gently stroked my head. More sleep followed, and then late morning we were back in the shower for a sensual chain-fuck under the hot water. Tyke cooked us an amazing brunch after that, and we talked about what was to come, both in terms of me moving in as well as my eventual but inevitable conversion. They put my mind at ease on that front, so that I focused my rising panic on the process of talking to my mum. I won’t bore you with the details of the next week, nor the conversations with both of my uncles as they were called upon by my mum to try, as they saw it, to talk some sense into me. Things were definitely strained with my family when I eventually loaded my stuff into Giftig’s SUV and left home, but I figured they would get used to my various bombshells eventually. I did not, of course, talk at all about my looming conversion, and decided I probably never would. I wanted them to know I was gay, but they did not need to know about the HIV when it eventually became part of me. I had only been living with the guys for a couple of days when I started to feel like shit. They nursed me through the flu, and then when I was mostly better Tyke took me to a clinic to confirm the result. However, what surprised me a little was his encouragement to get the prescriptions and treatment regime I needed, and on the way back he told me that he and Giftig were going to go back on meds too. “I’m not saying we’ll not occasionally want to go back to sharing with others who want it from us” he said, “but I want us to be happy and healthy together for a while so we can figure all this out.” Life settled down, with me continuing to do the landscaping thing by day, while learning more from Tyke and even occasionally Giftig on how to DJ properly by night. Through them I eventually got a regular gig in a club in Watford, choosing the name DJ Tamulus after a type of pale scorpion I found online. After a few months there I managed to get a gig as an occasional stand-in at a venue in Camden, where I was so well-received by the crowd that the owners took me on full-time to replace one of their regulars when she decided to move to Ibiza. That started to bring in enough that I was able to quit landscaping, and the extra time I had really gave me the boost I needed to properly focus on getting better as a DJ. Tyke said I was a natural, and I soon started getting properly noticed now that was at a more respected venue. It wasn’t long before Giftig managed to get Panarica interested, and barely a year after my trip to the festival, I was rostered on as the newest of the house DJs there. My style seemed to fit perfectly as the warm-up for Giftig and Tyke, so our lives got very convenient thereafter. That brings me to today, as I lie here writing this from a trailer at the old airfield where my life changed just two years ago. I have already done my first set at the festival, and am just waiting for G&T (as I call them) to finish with theirs. We’ll have an hour or so before I’m due back on stage, so I’m here on my front with a buttplug inserted so that they can just have at me when they get back. I love my life. I love my tattoos. I love my chains. I love my job. I love Giftig. I particularly love Tyke. And, I have realised, I love that I carry a bit of both of them in me wherever I go. They set me free, they gave me everything, and I could not be happier. But I best go, as I can hear their set has ended which means I am about to be the hog in an adrenaline-fuelled spit roast. Bring it on… THE END

Part 4: The Penthouse The week seemed to grind by, as I slogged away on a new garden layout in Hampstead while I felt my well-used arse get less tender with each passing day. Friday evening finally rolled around, and after getting home, showering and lying on my bed for a bit to recover after work, I got myself ready to go out. By then I had managed to get to a sex shop after work one evening to pick up some supplies, so I was able to clean out my hole, pop in a buttplug and then put on a jockstrap, so that I would be ready for Giftig and Tyke whenever and wherever they decided to pick up where we’d left off on the Sunday. I donned my boots, jeans, a black tank top and jacket, and headed off to Panarica. When I got there I was a bit nervous at first, but sure enough I was on the list and was let in a separate door that led to the VIP area on one side of the floor near the stage. I felt a bit out of place there, so just got myself the occasional rum and coke and otherwise stood at the edge of the area where I had the best view of the stage. Just before Giftig and Tyke were due on as the main DJ act, I felt my phone buzz with a message: Be ready to go when we’re done, and we’ll meet you at the door next to the bar. T My heart started racing, but I texted back a thumbs up and then got myself another drink to steady my nerves. I then didn’t drink anything more as I watched them come on stage and immediately whip the crowd into a frenzy with their awesome set. Each of them gave me the occasional look, and I even saw Giftig smile and wink at me at one point. I couldn’t help but marvel at how much my life had changed in the last week. As their set reached its climax, I went over to the bar and found the door Tyke had mentioned. Not wanting to appear suspicious I stood a little way away from it and cheered with the crowd as the set ended, and then just moments later the door opened and Tyke partially came through. He saw me and motioned for me to follow him through, so I hurried after him and down a long corridor backstage that led to a back door. Giftig was already waiting in the SUV, so I climbed in the back and we set off. They both wound down their windows and lit up cigarettes, so I decided it was OK to do the same and have my first smoke in a few hours. Then we settled back as we drove to a modern development pretty close to Canary Wharf, where Giftig took the car into an underground car park. From there we headed through some doors into a loft lobby, and took the elevator up to the top floor where there were only two apartments on the small corridor. We went inside one of them, and my mouth dropped open at the sheer size and luxury of the place. It was open plan with marble floors and stylish fittings and furniture, and windows all around with amazing views of the river and the skyscrapers nearby. Tyke headed straight over to a set of doors out into a large balcony, and I followed him out while Giftig disappeared into a small corridor off which there were a few doors. “Wow” I said, as I stood next to Tyke and took in the view. “I know” he said, as he lit up two cigarettes and then handed me one. “It never gets old.” “You guys must be loaded” I said. “G is” chuckled Tyke. “I’m just along for the ride.” Tyke and I chatted for a little bit while we smoked, before Giftig joined us outside. I did not turn around when I heard him come outside as I was watching a plane coming in low over the skyscrapers. However, he almost immediately reached around from behind me and grabbed hold of my jacket collar, pulling it back to take it off me. I moved my arms to allow him to successfully remove it, and then heard it drop to the floor. I was about to turn around when a very large silver chain descended into view as Giftig lifted it over my head and down onto my chest. It was much bigger than the one I had worn at the cottage, and it felt very heavy when it came to rest on my torso and he fastened it behind my neck. He then gripped my hand and turned me round, gently pulling my arm towards him. Tyke then reached over and placed a huge bracelet on my wrist, which Giftig fastened underneath, and then they did the same with the other wrist. These pieces were huge, although still not as big as what each of them was wearing. “For you” said Giftig. “What?” I asked. “He means they’re now yours” said Tyke, causing my mouth to drop open. “What?” I asked again. “They are for you” said Giftig, giving me a rare smile. “I like you in chains.” I stammered as I tried to take in what he was saying, causing them both to laugh. “Come on” said Tyke, “let’s go and give you some more gifts.” He went inside, but before Giftig could follow I grabbed his wrist. He turned to face me, and I leaned in and gave him a deep kiss. He was a bit rigid, possibly startled, at first, but then put his hand on the back of my head and took over as the dominant one. He then pulled back with a smile on his face. “Thank you” I said softly, “I don’t know what to say.” “I am happy that you like them” he replied, with a grin forming. “Now you can show me that you thank me.” We went inside and headed down the corridor, passing an open door to an opulent master bedroom until we reached another one that had been set up for playing. I gawped at the way it was decorated, with pictures of stylised scorpions all over the place, black leather furniture everywhere, a whole shelf lined with dildos, and all sorts of other kinky stuff. In the centre was a big metal frame with a leather sling hanging from it, and Tyke’s position next to it and the look on his face told me that this is where they wanted me. I quickly stripped until I was just wearing my jock and the new chains, and then walked over to Tyke. He turned me round and helped me lift up onto the end of the leather sling, and then I lay back and shuffled into a position he was happy with. They each then took a leg and raised it up, securing my ankles with a thick padded leather cuff hanging from each chain. They then did the same with my wrists, albeit those were secured onto the chains with hooks that they slipped under my new bracelets. My heart was racing as I realised I was securely locked in place, and all I could do was watch as they each stripped naked and then helped each other dress into the same leather gear they had worn in the cottage, with the addition of black leather chaps this time. Tyke then took up position by my hole, crouched down out of sight, and then caused me to both jump and moan out loud as he pulled out the small buttplug and then began to lick and finger my hole. Given the plug had kept me loosened up he did not waste much time with the foreplay though, and after only a couple of minutes he stood back up, pressed his cock to my hole, and pushed in. “Oh yeah” I groaned, “fuck me.” “Yeah?” Tyke said. “You want us to fuck you?” “Yeah” I panted, arching my back up a bit and closing my eyes as he started to slowly slide in and out of me. “You want us to fill you with cum again?” he continued. “Yeah” I moaned, “I want you to breed me all night!” I rested my back down on the sling again and opened my eyes to look at him, right as he and Giftig were exchanging a grin with each other. “You like our tattoos” asked Giftig from next to me, causing me to turn my head and look at the scorpion on his torso. “Yeah” I panted, as Tyke began to increase in speed. “You want one yourself?” Giftig asked, reaching out and rubbing his hand on my torso. “Yeah” I panted again. “Good” he said. “We will make sure you get one.” “Because” said Tyke, through gritted teeth as he hammered away at me, “it means we’re poz, and soon you will be too!”

Part 3: The Cottage Eventually we pulled into the car park of what looked like an old mansion, but Giftig kept driving through it and got the car onto a driveway leading into the estate. Some way into the site we reached a set of cottages, and he stopped the car in front of one of them. We all climbed out and headed inside, where I saw that it was actually a large and modern one-bedroom apartment that seemed to be set up as hotel accommodation. “We shower” said Giftig, before disappearing into the bedroom and closing the door. Tyke watched him go, and then went back outside and lit up a cigarette on the path up to the cottage. Not knowing what else to do, I followed him out and lit one up myself. “When you said you were in a hotel, I thought you meant a Travelodge or something” I said quietly, causing Tyke to grin. “G would rather drive back overnight than stay in one of those” he said. “Are you two… together?” I asked. “Yeah” said Tyke. “We don’t make a big deal about it, and most people think we’re just a DJ double-act.” “I did too” I said. “But we’re open” he continued. “We play with others, sometimes together, sometimes alone.” “Cool” I said. “What about you?” he asked. “You got a boyfriend?” “I, er, I didn’t know I was into men” I said, after a pause. “Until tonight.” “You mean we were your first?” he asked. “Yeah” I said. “Then the security guards.” “Sorry about that” he said, the grin gone from his face. “G likes to keep those guys sweet with the occasional gift.” “It was OK” I said. “I kind of liked it.” “Guess we found ourselves a proper cumdump” Tyke chuckled, though I could not help but cough at hearing myself described in that way. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, just enjoy that you’ve found out who you are.” We stood in silence for a little bit finishing off our cigarettes, but with no sign of Giftig we both lit up another. We started talking about music, what it was like being a DJ, and my own love of the whole scene. For a moment I almost forgot why I was really there, instead revelling in the opportunity to talk to someone I really admired about his work and his passions. However, the sounds of Giftig emerging from the bedroom brought me back down to earth. “My turn” said Tyke, stubbing out the last of his cigarette and heading inside to go and shower. I stood there on the path for a little longer, before going back inside. Giftig was opening bottles of beer, and handed me one when he saw me approach. “Drink” he said, “then you shower.” “OK” I replied, before taking a swig of beer. “Then we go to bed” he said. “Tomorrow we stay here, and drive back on Sunday. You can stay.” “You mean all weekend?” I asked. “Yes” Giftig replied, before striding past me and out the door to light a cigarette. I stood there for a moment, my heart suddenly racing at the prospect of potentially being used all day by these two men, but I then fished my phone out of my pocket and emailed my mum to say that I had met some people and was going to stay another night. It was far too late at night to text her, but I knew she would be checking her email as she always did every morning, so figured that would be enough. Then I put my phone back in my pocket and, despite having just smoked two with Tyke, went outside to have another cigarette with Giftig. We did not speak at all while I was out there, with him instead coming to stand next to me and rub his hand on my arse while we smoked. It was such a turn-on, further cementing for me that I was clearly gay. Tyke took a lot less time in the shower than Giftig had, and when he appeared by the door with just a towel round him, we went inside and I headed for the bedroom. I stripped naked, then went into the bathroom and got in the shower. After getting myself clean, I got out and used a hand towel to get dry as they had already used and soaked the two larger ones. I then opened the bathroom door and went out into the bedroom completely naked. I was somewhat taken aback to see they had both put on some other accessories alongside their huge silver chains, with Tyke wearing a thick leather collar and matching cuffs on his wrists and ankles, while Giftig was now wearing a leather harness and a black leather Muir cap. Sitting on the bed was a black leather jock, as well as a very chunky silver chain and matching bracelets. “My older set” said Tyke, noticing me looking at the jewellery. “Put it all on.” I did as instructed, slipping the jock on before donning the chains, amazed at how heavy they felt despite being smaller than what either of the other two men was wearing. “Nice” said Tyke. “On the bed” said Giftig. I climbed on the bed on all fours, and they positioned themselves at either end of me. With only a minimal fingering of my hole to loosen it up again, I soon had Giftig buried inside me while I opened my mouth to swallow Tyke’s cock. I moaned around the cock down my throat as Giftig began to pound me hard, and Tyke eventually pulled out of my mouth to let me take a few huffs of poppers. Then he presented his cock to me again, and with my head starting to fly, I swallowed it back down. As it turned out, I ended up being in that position for quite a lot of the next 36 hours. Aside from when they were fucking me, we spent Saturday eating amazing food that Tyke prepared in the small kitchen, chilling with drinks, napping, and talking about music. Giftig was not very chatty, but Tyke and I had a lot in common and I really enjoyed getting to know him better. I also got to see a bit more into the normal dynamic of their relationship when Tyke bottomed for Giftig a couple of times, albeit while he was buried inside me as well. They also briefly double-fucked me late on the Saturday, but went back to spit-roasting when it became clear that I was not yet able to accommodate them both without being in a lot of discomfort. Sunday morning eventually rolled around, and after I took a couple more loads, we eventually packed up and headed out to the car. I sat in the back and rested for the drive back to London, shifting around a bit as the weekend-long initiation into bottoming had left me quite sore. Once we got back to London I asked them to drop me near to my house so I could walk the rest of the way home, but before I left Tyke gave me his number and told me to come by the club on the Friday night as I would be on the guest list. “You stay with us after” said Giftig, not really sounding like he was offering but more instructing. I made a mental note to tell my mum I would be out all night as a result. Then, they sped off as I watched them go. I stood on the street for a while, trying to gather my thoughts. I eventually picked up my tent and rucksack from the pavement, and set off towards home while I focused on concocting a believable story about what I had been up to on my extra day in the country. I settled on a variation of the truth involving an opportunity to learn some DJ stuff from a couple of the performers and their friends, and was able to minimise the time spent talking to my mum before I could get upstairs and fall flat onto my bed. Despite how busy my head was, I was soon sound asleep.

Part 2: The Festival Continues “Are you camping tonight?” Tyke asked, as I lit a cigarette of my own with his lighter. “Yeah” I said, “brought a little tent with me”. “You stay with us” said Giftig, more as a command than an offer. “We will have more sex.” “We’re at a hotel nearby” Tyke said. “You can come back with us in the car after.” “Er, thanks, er, yeah, that would be great” I stuttered. “You better go and get your stuff from wherever you left it” Tyke said. “Bring it back here, but hurry up so we’re not late.” I nodded, then turned and briskly walked off while still smoking my cigarette. I got a couple of weird looks from the guys at the cloakroom tent where backstage visitors could leave their stuff, and I’m pretty sure I heard one of them giggle that I smelled of cum as I walked away with my rucksack and the tent. I didn’t care though, and just hurried back to the trailer. Tyke opened the door for me and I hurled my stuff in, before they strode off with me in pursuit. Giftig was talking on his mobile as we walked, but with me being behind them and the pulsing sounds of the current DJ’s set emanating from the stage, I could not hear any of what was being said. When we reached the stage I went to show the security guard my wristband, but he stopped me and another couple of guards who had been hanging around came over to me. They pointed in the direction of a small cabin back at the bottom of the stairs up to the stage, and given I could not hear a word over the music, I complied and headed down there with them behind me. I went inside and found it was actually a small toilet block that was presumably placed close to the stage so the security guards would not be gone for long if nature called. The two guards were right behind me, and the second one in closed and locked the door behind him. “Take your trousers off and bend over” said the first one. “Gift and Ty want you loose and wet for tonight” said the second. I should have freaked and fought against it, but that desire I had felt to continue being used as I had been cleaning myself up a few minutes before had not dissipated, so I readily undid and shucked off my jeans, before bending over in the small space and leaning on the sink. The first guard took up position behind me, fingered my hole for a moment, and then began to push his cock into me. I could not suppress a yelp as it felt dry and painful, and I was relieved when he pulled out, presumably applied some lube, and then pushed in again with a lot less grief the second time. He then set to fucking, as I propped myself against the sink and took the pounding. After a while I turned away from the sink and looked to the other guard, who was standing with his trousers open rubbing his cock as he watched his colleague fuck me. I just happened to be looking in his direction when he pulled off his black polo shirt to cope with the rising heat in the room, and it was at that point I saw he had the same symbol tattooed on him as Tyke did, only smaller and positioned at the bottom of his stomach just above his balls. I also noticed how wet the end of his cock was, and wondered if he would actually end up blowing from how hard he was stroking it while watching me get fucked. However, his colleague accelerated and blew into me before that happened, and sure enough they soon swapped places. As the second guard slid into my wet hole, his colleague watched for a moment before approaching me with his own dripping cock presented for my attention. I swivelled a bit so I was still supporting myself on the sink with one arm while I opened wide to take the cock that had just been inside me into my mouth. It was then that I noticed this guard also had a small tattoo in the same place on his body as his colleague, only this one was of a scorpion with its tail trailing down to his cock. I missed the entirety of Giftig and Tyke’s second set, as after the first two guards had bred me, I was instructed to stay in the cabin and help out the rest of the security staff if they required it. I therefore had the odd experience of just standing or sitting on the floor in there for over an hour, administering blowjobs or bending over to be fucked by three more men, and also awkwardly watching-but-not-watching three others take a piss in the toilet. I was not completely ignorant of the world, and thus was quite relieved that none of them had wanted me to be the toilet. Eventually the first two guards came back for me, and escorted me to the trailer where I was told to wait. I took the opportunity to have a couple of cigarettes while I sat on the step of the trailer, feeling the cum dripping out into my underwear. Eventually Giftig and Tyke returned, and even in the relatively low light levels now that night had fallen, I could tell they were smirking at me. They gathered their things in the trailer, tossed me my bag and tent, and then walked off - with me following - to a black SUV in the truck-filled parking area backstage. Giftig climbed into the driver’s side, while Tyke opened up one of the rear doors, pulled a scrunched-up towel over to cover the seat, and then motioned for me to get in before he joined Giftig up front. “Did you have some fun?” Giftig asked, as he manoeuvred us out of the site and onto a quiet road leading away from it. “Yes” I said quietly. “But I missed your second set.” “We’ll make it up to you tonight with a personal show” said Tyke, as Giftig chuckled. I could not help but smile to myself, and then turned to looked out of the window at the darkened countryside as we drove in silence.

Part 1: The Festival This was an absolute dream come true. I had got through on the phone as the second listener to call, but unlike the first guy I had successfully answered all the questions posed to me and thus I had won. I had not managed to get a ticket to the festival when they had gone on sale, but now I would be attending from backstage, and allowed to watch (and dance) from next to the DJs. What’s more, the DJ duo that I was obsessed with from the many nights I had managed to get into Panarica would be doing a couple of sets, and I would get to not only meet them but also watch them in action from close up. I was 20 at the time, and a bit aimless in life. I had done a couple of A-levels but not gone on to uni, and was just working various jobs in the vague hope of finding something that stuck. I needed money to sustain my own interests, while also contributing to costs at home given my mum did not pull that much in as a nurse and of course got no benefits to cover me anymore. For the past two springs and summers I had managed to get full-time hours with a landscaping company my mum’s friend ran which had helped me to muscle up a bit, but in winter I was always doing masses of retail shifts, construction, or whatever I could find. I did not care though, as my focus was on being able to buy music, go out clubbing, and indulge my obsession with dance music, while occasionally adding to my tattoos. I did a lot of this alone, as most of my friends had gone away to uni and I hadn’t yet figured out a solid way to find a new social circle outside of that. Panarica had announced a new day-long festival on an old airfield in Essex that I was so excited about, but then I’d had to be working on a landscaping job from dawn in the middle of nowhere in the Chilterns the day the tickets had gone on sale, and had no mobile signal to be able to try my luck even if I had convinced the supervisor to let me take a break for a bit. I was absolutely gutted, and had been trying to get resale tickets or anything else since then. The radio phone-in seemed like a long shot, so I couldn’t believe it when I won. On the day itself, a Friday that I had managed to book off from work, I made my way to the site by train and shuttle bus, lugging a small tent I had borrowed so that I could stay over and then make my way home on the Saturday. It took me quite a while to find the backstage entrance I was supposed to go to, but once in I was thrilled to find I could make use of the crew catering, get cheap beers at a special bar back there, and with only a check of my wristband, go and hang out at either side of the stage to watch the DJs, dance with other guests, and look out over the vast and growing crowd. It was absolutely awesome. DJ Giftig had relocated from his native Berlin to become one of the residents at Panarica a few years ago, and had been joined there as a bit of a double act by the younger DJ Tyke just as I started getting into the club occasionally myself, initially with a fake ID and then legitimately once I turned 18. Out of all the DJs who played there, they were the ones who really grabbed my attention, both for their sets as well as something else I did not understand at the time. I was not into any celebrity culture, but these two were real role models for me and were as close to idols as I had. It was therefore so exciting for me when I came out of the backstage toilets and saw them standing outside a trailer lighting up cigarettes. With the beer I’d drunk loosening my inhibitions, I walked over to them while pulling out a cigarette of my own. “Do you have a light” I asked, looking between them while I pretended to not have one of my own in my pocket. “Sure” said Tyke, handing me his. I lit up my cigarette while feeling Giftig staring at me quite closely. “Thanks” I said, as I exhaled my first puff and handed the lighter back to Tyke. “No problem” he said. “You having fun?” “Yes!” I said, before taking a second inhale of my cigarette. “I won the HardStyle Radio competition to watch the festival from backstage.” “Oh” said Tyke, as Giftig continued to stare at me in silence. “Well done, in that case. Hope you’re enjoying it all.” “I am” I said, grinning. “But I’m most looking forward to your sets. I try to go to Panarica all the time to see you two.” “That is good” said Giftig, speaking for the first time. “We will play well for you today.” “Awesome” I said, now grinning at him. “I’ll be at the side of the stage, and can’t wait to see you two working from a different angle.” The two of them glanced at each other, before Giftig gave a very slight nod. “You can come and stand behind us to watch closer, if you want” said Tyke. “We will clear it.” “Oh wow” I said, genuinely flabbergasted. “That would be amazing”. “Come” said Giftig, as he and Tyke stubbed out their cigarettes on the side of the trailer and tossed the butts into a bucket on the floor. I hurriedly did the same, and then followed them to the stage. They spoke to the security guard, who looked me up and down before nodding, and then I was out there on the stage following them to the DJ station where the previous act was just finishing up. Giftig turned to me and pointed to an area between the racks of records and equipment at the back of the stage, which I moved into and then gaped in awe at the view out over the crowd. For the next hour I was in fanboy heaven watching the two of them whip thousands of people into a frenzy with their set, and was kept going myself by the staff who regularly brought drinks out to the various people on the stage. By the end of the set I was seriously pumped and also quite drunk. “Come” said Giftig, looking at me as they were replaced by the next act. I followed them off stage and back out to the trailer area, where they lit up cigarettes and I joined in. We chatted, or rather they patiently stood and listened while I gushed over their show, and each smoked a couple of cigarettes. Tyke then opened the door to the trailer we were next to and went up the steps to go in, with Giftig following but then stopping at the top and turning to me. “Come” he said again. “Join us.” I almost raced up the steps into the trailer, blown away that this was happening. Inside it was quite luxurious if a bit cramped, and they both ended up pressing against me as they sourced drinks from a fridge while I stood awkwardly in the way. “Come sit” said Giftig, patting on the couch next to where he had just sat down with a beer. I walked over and sat down, then watched as Tyke came over and stood right in front of us. He removed his sleeveless T-shirt, under which there was a large tattoo on his impressively toned and leaned stomach of the symbol I recognised from bottles of chemicals. He then just stood and looked down at me, making me feel suddenly very nervous, hot, and kind of excited. “You like?” said Giftig, putting his arm round my back and pressing the huge bracelet on his wrist against the side of my ribs. “Err… yeah” I stammered. “Touch it” Tyke said, slightly pushing his torso towards me. I had never had any sort of contact like this with another guy, but in that moment I wanted to do what he was suggesting. I gingerly lifted up my hand and touched his torso with my fingers, lightly tracing the shapes of the symbol. “You know” said Giftig, “we like to relax between sets. Would you like to relax with us”. “Yes” I said whispered, still touching and staring at Tyke’s torso. “Good” said Giftig. “You will have lots of fun with us.” He then took his arm off my back and proceeded to pull off his own top, revealing a stockier, more muscular torso on which the tattoos from his arms and shoulders merged into a large scorpion design. I think even in that moment I sensed a sort of danger, but I was inebriated and excited enough to just be fixated on the sight of their naked tattooed torsos and huge silver chains. Indeed, I was almost hypnotised. Tyke leaned over and pulled at my own T-shirt, and I lifted my arms up straight above me to allow him to pull it off and reveal my own skinner torso. Almost immediately Giftig put his arm back round me while reaching up with his other to place his hands on my chest. He must have felt my heart going like the clappers, as he leaned in and whispered into my ear. “Be calm, boy” he said, “we want to give you a special gift to remember us by.” Tyke encouraged me to my feet, and then slowly stripped off his jeans and revealed he was in nothing underneath. I was transfixed, such that I did not notice Giftig standing up and doing the same. Only once they were both naked and standing in front of me did I slowly get to my feet and undo my own jeans, removing them along with my boxers underneath. I was inebriated but fully in the moment, and completely ready for what was clearly going to be my first gay experience. I shivered it when Tyke reached round and cupped my buttocks, and when Giftig’s hand joined in I understood I was going to be getting fucked by them which made me tremble even more. I didn’t understand myself properly, but there was a desire there for this to happen, and for it to be with the closest men I had to idols excited me even more. The two men worked together to get me ready, until I was bent over taking my first tentative licks of Giftig’s fat cock while Tyke was rimming and fingering me. To be fair, they were on a break between sets so time was of the essence, but even without that pressure I don’t think they would have treated me as anything more than their latest conquest to be used as they saw fit. Use me, they did. While Giftig held a bottle to my nose and encouraged me to take my first ever huff of poppers, Tyke’s cock began its journey into my hole, taking my cherry with it. He did give me a moment to adjust once he was fully inside, but then began an accelerating rhythm while I moaned for dear life. Giftig soon shut me up by pushing his cock back into my mouth, and I started to hardly notice Tyke slamming in and out of my hole as I fought to control my gag reflex. I was soon almost helpless, bent over with one cock down my throat and another pummelling my arse. I was completely overwhelmed, but also absolutely loved it. My hole was full, a bit painful, but also radiating incredible feelings out across my whole body, whilst the taste and feel of Giftig’s cock in my mouth and throat was just plain doing it for me. I had inadvertently found my true place in the world. Eventually Tyke accelerated to a stampede of my behind, then slammed in one final time and blew his load. As soon as his panting subsided and he withdrew, they changed ends. I gingerly took Tyke’s cum-covered cock into my mouth and began to instinctively lick it clean, before pausing to moan uncontrollably as Giftig’s much more girthy cock began to push into me. He stretched me even wider than I had been before, and I was thankful for Tyke putting the poppers back under my nose to huff as I struggled to adjust. Soon, though, I was once again being pounded senseless while I held onto Tyke’s waist and occasionally licked his cock. I didn’t even notice it hardening again until Giftig roared out and blew his load in me, and was rather unexpectedly re-penetrated by Tyke for a really fast and rough third fuck. As soon as Tyke had blown in me again, the two of them set about getting re-dressed, while I staggered over to the little bathroom in the trailer to clean myself up a bit. My aching hole was dripping cum, and with the heat of the moment over I suddenly felt very used. This had all happened so quickly, and as I used some tissues to clean off the cum from my arse and the sweat from the rest of my body, I felt a little stunned. But, deep within all that, I also felt some kind of hope that this would not be it for the night, and after re-dressing I headed out of the trailer to where Tyke and Giftig were smoking cigarettes to maybe see if I could find some way for more after their second set.

Sorry for the delay. Have really struggled for time, and also inspiration. This is a second and final chapter, taking the story in a certain direction. I think there is a hotter, darker continuation out there, but I have struggled to write it, so this will do for now pending me maybe finding a different way to take things for an alternative ending. ————— Dean slid his hands under my suit jacket and pressed them onto my chest as he leaned forward and planted his lips on mine. The kiss was brief, before he pulled back and then began to push the jacket off my shoulders. I threw my arms down straight and helped shake them out of it, and he immediately then went to work on my shirt buttons as the jacket fell carelessly to the floor. Once the shirt had joined it down there, Dean quickly stripped off his own before pulling me back in for a longer and deeper kiss. “We’ll have time for that later” he breathily whispered as he pulled back but held his face close to mine. “I need to get at your arse.” I couldn’t help but smile at him as we both began to get fully naked, the familiarity of his hunger for me still there despite it being two decades since the last time we had done this. He wanted me, I wanted him, and all nerves and doubts about what I was doing had evaporated. “On the bed” he growled at me, causing me to almost leap onto the plush bedding and get on all fours. I had barely landed when his face was pressed into my crack, and I could not help but moan loudly as his tongue touched my hole. I then had to bite my lip as he forced it in, opening me up and driving me wild. He was a man on a mission though, so his tongue was soon replaced by one, then two, then three fingers. The pain and discomfort did not bother me though, as I wanted him in there as eagerly as he did. Soon enough, the fingers were gone and his cock had begun its journey back inside me for the first time in far too long. That first reunion fuck was hard, animalistic, painful, but also incredible. I saw stars throughout, my body having a heightened reaction to something that had once been a regular part of my life. I’m not sure any of my blabbering to Dean was coherent, but he got the message and fucked with intensity throughout. Then, with a demonic roar, he gripped my waist even harder and pulled me back against him as he unloaded, and I just panted in satisfaction knowing he was breeding me again after so long. We lounged in hotel robes plucked from the wardrobe for a bit, enjoying the champagne and occasionally going out on the balcony for a smoke. I told him all about my utterly boring married life, and he shared a little about his world as a gay man, making me realise just how much more true to himself he had been than I had ever had the courage to be. There had not been anyone special in his life since he had bailed from his engagement though, and while his tales of sexual adventures turned me on, I did feel a bit regretful for him that he had not found something more. Our second round on the bed made me realise that perhaps he had actually once found someone special, but that fool had gone off and got himself married. Face down, with him lying on my back and buried deep inside me, the tenderness with which he nuzzled and kissed my neck as he slowly pushed in and out gave me a clear sign that I was his “one that got away”. My mind went into overdrive as I thought about that, my own feelings, and what all this meant. It was all a bit overwhelming, and we were both very quiet after he blew in me again. He rested in position on my back while his breathing calmed, and then slowly pulled himself up off me. “Are you OK?” I eventually asked him, as I lay on my side on the mattress with him sitting on the edge of it with his back to me. “Yeah” he sighed. “Just…” “I know” I said, reaching out and putting my hand on his back after he had trailed off and gone silent for a while. “I’m sorry.” He sat still for a while, before nodding, standing up and heading into the bathroom. I lay there a little longer, before sliding off the bed and following him. He was leaning on the sink looking down, so I once again put my hand on his back. He looked up and made eye contact with me in the mirror, slightly startling me with his pained expression. I rubbed my hand down his back, at which point he stood up straight and turned to face me. I instinctively took him in my arms and allowed him to bury his face in my neck, and then we stood like that for a while as we just held each other. “I’m sorry” he whispered, after he pulled back a little to face me. “I know you’re married.” With my mind full of conflicting thoughts, I could not help but lean into him, plant my lips on his, and begin a long and passionate kiss. None of it was about the sex, but rather the reignition of something long since buried for me and long since lost for him. There, in that moment, all I could feel was a burning need to take care of him, now that the pretence and the bravado was gone. He loved me, and always had done, that much I knew even if I suspected it would be very hard for him to say it out loud. I had no idea what I was going to do about it, but with this rekindling of what once had been, I began to realise that I was not going to be able to let it all just disappear a second time. Back in our uni days, we had only ever done it missionary a handful of times, and all of those had been when we were away together for a night or two and Dean had begun to let down his guard. That night in his suite we revisited it, and our third reconnection was a gentle and passionate affair with me on my back, my legs splayed out, and Dean looking deeply into my soul as he moved himself in and out. Our fourth reconnection was the following morning in a position we had only been in one before, both lying on our sides with him gripping me tightly from behind as he again gently coaxed both of us to orgasm. The shower that followed was one of the longest of my life, such was the time spent under the hot spray with our lips locked together. Work that day was a struggle, but I used my tiredness as an excuse in the evening to get out of the Christmas do early and head back to my hotel to change. Dean had extended his suite booking by another night, so once I had got a cab to his hotel we picked up where we left off. I spent most of that night with him buried inside me, and I knew by morning that this was not, could not be, just a quick fling for old time’s sake. I felt alive, energised, passionate, and all the many other things that a married man in his 40s often finds he has slowly, unwittingly lost. Returning to Hertfordshire was a crash down to earth, and I really struggled with re-entry. I felt like I was a different person now, and after expending all my emotional energy with maintaining the illusion of still just being “Dad” to my kids, I had nothing left for my wife. She was in a foul mood with me by Monday morning when I left early for the normal commute into London. Dean and I had been communicating over Telegram so that I could keep the app hidden and notifications off, only engaging when I was able, and through that we arranged to meet for lunch on the Tuesday. The kicker for me is what an utter relief it was to see him again when I arrived at the pub he had chosen, really hammering home that everything was now upended. The hour flew past, and we both agreed we needed to not only now do this as often as we could, but some way would have to be found to satisfy our need to do more than just talk to each other. He, of course, came up with the solution for that, when he took out a very quick lease on a serviced apartment in a block in Limehouse. One minute from a station halfway between his office in Canary Wharf and my own in The City, the location made for quick journeys to maximise our time together. Lunchtimes moved to there, and the only thing that got eaten was my arse… before Dean ploughed into it of course. After just one week of this new routine, he let me know he was planning to sell his house in Brighton and buy a flat in that neck of the woods, as not only had he been missing being based in London but he now had another reason to make the move. Four weeks into our new Limehouse lunchtime routine, my work introduced another curveball to the situation. A colleague I did not know particularly well suddenly quit with immediate effect (or perhaps was actually fired for something serious), and I was temporarily handed a key project from his portfolio to run that involved a lot of engagement with the offices in both New York and Singapore. Time zones were going to be a major issue, particularly as the nature of this project really necessitated being present in the London office with the small team working on it. Therefore, after a rather passive-aggressive conversation with my wife, we ‘agreed’ I needed to be staying in London most of the time for the three remaining weeks that the project would be in this intensive working phase. I had previously told her about having reunited with an old uni friend, and that I’d since met him for lunch a few times to catch up, so she did not seem too surprised when I said that he had offered me his spare room so I could be somewhere nicer than a hotel for the patches of sleep I was going to be getting during short nights and hopefully some lunchtime power naps. Thus, without any more sniping and drama from her, I packed a couple of bags and set off for Dean’s rented flat for a longer stay. Truth be told, the hours were indeed brutal, and Dean and I actually ended up having less sex than normal. However, I could tell that did not matter to him, as me being there for a prolonged period seemed to bring him a kind of relaxed comfort that I had only rarely seen back in the day. He had always had a certain energy, and it was only once he knew he had me there for several days on the trot - even if a bit fleetingly - that he seemed to become calm and just happy to be himself without being “on”. He made a lot of effort to work around my hours, coming home to make me lunch for whichever side of my scheduled powernap was going to be best, waiting up for me in the evening, and getting up with me in the morning so we could chat over coffee before he went back to bed for a bit. As exhausted and strung out as I was, I also couldn’t help but realise how much happier I was in this set-up than anything I could have had at home, even if that home had been fitted with a transporter pad to beam me directly to the office. However, Dean became quite withdrawn on the second Friday, and had disappeared into himself when I came back that night. He wouldn’t talk about it, but I assumed it was because I was once again going to be getting up early on Saturday to go back home for the weekend, and wouldn’t be back until late Sunday night. Not exactly a long time away, but I guessed he was dealing with the reality of being the secret weekday partner, and the weekend’s role in slapping him with the reality of what my life actually was and where my loyalties had to lie. Still, he didn’t voice any of that, so I just had to go on my guess as to that being his issue. What did surprise me more was his lack of interest in having sex that night, despite us having a bit more time than normal, so I just had to settle for a rare reversal of the norm by being the big spoon in bed that night as I tried to wordlessly comfort and reassure him that I really did care for him. After a long journey back home through engineering works on the train line, I endured another tiring weekend doing everything the kids had been promised I would do with them, plus the house jobs that it felt like my wife had invented just to punish me for leaving her alone all week. I’m not sure whether it was the fact that Dean was now in my life the way he was, his unusual sadness at my weekend absence, or whether I had woken up to the true state of my marriage, but as I toiled on door repairs, garage tidying and everything else she’d conjured up, I found myself trying to figure out if I did in any way still want to actually be with her. Yes, I wanted to be a father to my kids, but did being with my wife actually bring me any joy these days? When had it last brought me any joy? Was I bringing her any joy either? It was a little disconcerting to realise that there were no positive answers to those questions. Talking to Dean about this seemed to brighten him from his funk a little when I got back there on the Sunday night, but sex remained off the table that week. I was so exhausted that I was quite OK with just sleeping all wrapped in him at night, and was happy to see him be more upbeat as we periodically engaged in tentative conversations about how a life with me no longer being married could work. Still, something more was definitely bothering him, but I figured he would tell me in his own time, perhaps when I wasn’t on such crazy hours. The project finally finished the following Friday some hours earlier than expected, for which I was very grateful as I was not feeling great that day. The work was expected to have gone on all night and thus I was not due back in Hertfordshire until the Saturday, but I felt increasingly sick as I made my way on the train to Dean’s flat so did not message him to come home early as I wasn’t sure I was up for much. I showered and had some herbal tea to see if it helped, but eventually threw in the towel and went to bed in the hope that I was just exhausted and would feel better for when Dean got back. I didn’t. —————- I think it was Tuesday before I was really with it again at all, and I was still at Dean’s. It really is the most discombobulating thing when you have missed whole days, and still being under the weather, I struggled to take in what he was telling me. I had basically passed out in his bed and was a feverish, barely-conscious mess when he had got back. He had sorted me out with various pills - I had no memory of ever waking to take anything - and had set about keeping a close eye on me. At some point he had pointed my phone at my face to unlock it and thus be able to call my wife, and she had agreed I should stay put so that I did not bring home whatever it was. He noted that this seemed to be her primary concern, rather than the fact that I was in no state to be moved, that Dean was going to have to care for me, or even that I was unwell. Anyway, he had indeed cared for me through the weekend, and now here I was out the other side wondering what the hell had happened. I continued to rest on that Tuesday, with Dean going to the office for part of the day having worked from home on the Monday. That evening I let him know I would get a taxi home the next day, and recharge it to work for the fact that they had avoided an expensive hotel bill during the project because I had stayed with him. He agreed, but said there was something we needed to do first in the morning before I left. I assumed he meant sex, but I woke up late in the morning to the sight of him getting dressed into leisure gear. “I’ve taken the day off” he said. “Come on, get up and we’ll go out for coffee. You can call the cab later.” Before my sleep-addled brain could respond he was out of the bedroom, so I wearily hauled myself up and started dressing in my own jogging bottoms, T-shirt and hoodie. I definitely felt better but still not quite right, so was glad I had decided to go home by cab later as I could chill a bit rather than worrying about trains. Dean hurried us out and was very quiet as he strode off in a different direction than his favourite coffee spot, but I fell in behind and just went with it, not sure what was going on. Then, he came to a stop beside a set of steps up into a building, and when I turned and looked up at the door I saw it was a clinic. ————— “I didn’t know” he said, unable to look me in the eye. We had been sat in silence in the room for quite some time after the doctor had left us alone, and he was the first to make any kind of sound. “I found out the week before last” he continued. “Terrence Higgins were in doing a roadshow in the lobby at work, and we all got marched down to get tested to encourage all the juniors to do the same. One of the ladies doing the testing asked me to help them fix something on a pull-up banner they couldn’t reach so that everyone else would head off to lunch, and then she sat me down and told me my result.” We returned to silence while I absorbed what he had just told me. The timing, his mood, the lack of sex. It all made sense. “So that’s why we haven’t…” I eventually said, before trailing off. “I didn’t know what to do, but I couldn’t risk it if there was a chance you weren’t already” he said, before putting his head in his hands. “Too little, too late I guess”. We remained in silence, as my mind went over and over the words the doctor had said, and what Dean was now telling me. Obviously part of my brain knew it must have been him, but I was so overwhelmed with the news at first that only now he had spoken was that aspect coming into focus. “So, all this sex you were having before me” I said, which caused him to sit up suddenly and dart his head in my direction. “I promise, I was being safe!” he said, and I could tell from the horrified look on his face that he was speaking the truth. “I was on prep, which should have been enough.” “I guess it wasn’t” I said, somehow managing to smile at him. “I’m so sorry” he said, before his face crumpled and the tears started falling. Despite the news I had just been given, I could not help but reach over and pull him into me. As we buried our faces in each other’s necks, I too began to sob. We were both dealing with this, and I knew that I was the first person he had talked to since his own test result came up positive so there was a lot of pent up emotion, coupled of course with the guilt of having infected me too. I, meanwhile, was basically exhausted and this was more than I could take. We did eventually get that coffee, taking them back to his flat. There we sat in silence for a while, only occasionally broken by him voicing out loud the things he was trying to think of that could have played a role. That stomach bug he got that maybe messed up his prep regime. The visit to that bathhouse in San Francisco while he was there for work shortly after getting better. That flu he had just before we were reunited, which must have actually been his own seroconversion. I only spoke up when I got the impression he was on the verge of a spiral. “It’s not your fault” I said. “Of course it is” he replied. “I was the one…” “No” I said, cutting him off, “it’s not. We never used condoms back in the day when we should have, and I did not even think to ever ask you to use one this time round. I never could or should have assumed you used them the rest of the time with other guys. You were taking prep, so you thought you were protected. You got tested regularly, right?” “Yes” he said, “every month. Normally.” “So, then, you just didn’t have time to catch it before we met again” I said, before smiling at him. “And what happened from then on was never going to have been stopped, and all normal routines we both had have fallen apart.” “I suppose” he said, sounding unsure as he looked back down at the floor. “It is what it is” I said. “It’s not a death sentence any more, and maybe it will just seal the deal on my marriage.” Dean’s head whipped back round so he was facing me, his eyes wide and a little puppy-like. “Are you serious?” he asked. “Yes” I said. “I don’t think I love her anymore, I’ve been committing adultery, and now I’ve got HIV. I think that’s the Universe sending me a pretty big sign that it’s over, don’t you?” “But… but what about your kids?” he asked. “I don’t know” I replied. “But the marriage can’t go on, so we’ll just have to deal with it.” He sat and stared at me for a moment, before he looked down at the floor and shuffled a bit. “So what will you do now then?” he asked, a nervous edge creeping into his voice. “I guess that depends on you” I said, leaning over and putting my hand on his thigh. “You said something about buying a flat here?” A big smile broke across his face as he turned his head back to face me. “I did say that” he replied. “Well” I continued, now smiling back at him.. “That sounds like it would be very convenient for my office too, so I might just have to see if you need a roommate.” His smile turned into a big grin, and then he leaned towards me and our lips met. We melted into one another, for that moment choosing not to think about the magnitude of all that had happened and all that would be coming. What we had once had was rekindled, it was stronger than ever, and I could not wait to see where it took us next.

There he was. It was actually him. I couldn’t believe it. Twenty years on, and we were at the same event. Maybe at some level it was not surprising given I had heard he had also gone into finance, but our paths had not crossed since we graduated and nor had we contacted each other at all. Furthermore, he looked good. Yes, he had aged a bit, but he was otherwise so much like he had been back then. Fucking handsome, and his body looked muscular and lean under his amazingly well-fitted suit. I wondered what his life had been like since then. Was he married? Was he even straight? It seemed quite likely that he would have followed the same path I had, meeting a woman, marrying, starting a family, and all that. It was almost expected of guys like us, and certainly those going from being top athletes at university on into the macho world of corporate finance. But maybe not? Did I actually want to find out? We were both studs back then. Sounds like I’m gloating, but I knew that I was popular, people thought I was good looking, I worked out so much that I had a rocking body, and I left quite the trail of girlfriends behind me when I went off to uni. He seemed to have trod a similar path, and we were both quite alpha male types (without being misogynist dicks about it) when we met. But our playful jostling for dominance had led to something else, and for most of the three years at uni we were secretly fucking. It was usually a quick affair, sometimes with one of us staying in the other's room and then sneaking out before dawn, and even sometimes a tryst in the woods or the uni gym toilets. However, weekends away together under the concoted story of family visits had happened occasionally, and on the two uninterrupted nights we would get together on those trips, we were more than just guys who fucked. But I knew, as I’m sure he did too, that it wouldn’t go on any longer than graduation. Maybe we weren’t quite expecting the complete and sudden halt that seemed to become our reality, but there we go. Truth be told, during our time together I was mostly the bottom. Sometimes he wanted to be penetrated, but more often than not it was me who ended up gaping and full of cum. There was just something about him that triggered a kind of submissiveness in me, a need to be dominated, but without it being too extreme. We seemed to naturally find this sort of understanding where we were both expressing something within us, but things never got pushed. He didn’t tie me up, order me around or anything like that, it was more that him mounting and sliding inside me seemed to satisfy some need of mine that had been bubbling under. Not necessarily homosexual desire, though I have always known that was there, but rather a need to not be so “alpha” all the time. Having to build up my name and reputation from scratch in the corporate world had maybe done that job for much of the intervening years. The alpha stud rank I had enjoyed throughout school and university meant nothing once I entered the real world, and I had to learn a bit of humility and work bloody hard to get anywhere for the first time in my life. But in my early 40s, with my career where it was, I was The Man again. Perhaps it was therefore no surprise that I was feeling restless and unsatisfied, needing something else than my life was offering. Maybe it was also reaching the beginnings of middle age, and having gone so long without that kind of contact, my suppressed desires for men were starting to become more obvious to me. I had not acted on it, but on business trips I was finding myself watching bi or gay porn in hotel rooms at night, and remembering with a growing hunger what it was like to be taken. But in that ballroom, seeing the only man I had ever actually been with, something stirred within me. Well, to be honest, my hole twitched. But my brain went into overdrive. Memories. Feelings. Desires. Fears. Hopes. Everything. If I had run into him ten years earlier I might have panicked, scared that this secret part of my life and personality was going to be outed, but timing is everything. I wanted him, or indeed any man. Without there being any pushback from my conscience, perhaps influenced by several glasses of expensive champagne, I seemed to decide that my two decades of monogamy was going to end that night. I stealthily watched him for some time while I half engaged in conversations with other people, until the moment I saw him make his excuses and walk away from the group he was with towards one of the doors into the building’s foyer. I let him go, then made my own excuses and followed. As I got into the foyer and looked around, I caught a glimpse of him exiting through the revolving doors at the far end so I hurried after him. Once at the door I could see him standing outside by the pavement with his back to me, so I paused and took a deep breath before heading outside as well. I walked up beside him just as he lit a cigarette. “You look good” he said, without even glancing in my direction. “You too” I replied. “You want one?” he asked, holding the pack of Marlboros in my direction as he turned to face me. “Er, sure” I said, reaching out to take what would be my first cigarette in 15 years. I put it in my mouth, and then leaned in so he could light it for me. I took a deep inhale, and then savoured the rush as it hit me. “You’re married” he said. “Yes” I replied. “You?” “Nearly was” he said. “But saw sense and backed out.” “Oh” I replied. “Not the woman for you?” “Her being a woman was the problem” he said, smirking. “Oh” I said again. “So you’re…” “Yep” he replied. “Oh” I said, for the third time. He grinned at me, before taking a deep inhale of his cigarette. I followed suit while I processed. “Not got a boyfriend, if that’s what you’re wondering” he said. I nodded, exhaling. We then stood in silence for a moment. “So how about we ditch this and go fuck?” he asked, out of the blue. I was just inhaling from the cigarette again, and started coughing in surprise which got a laugh out of him. “Had any action since me?” he asked while I tried to recover. “No” I croaked, “not like that anyway.” “Fair enough” he said. “But from the way you’ve been leering at me for the last hour, I know you want it.” “I, er”… I stammered. He chortled, before taking a final inhale of his cigarette and stubbing it out on the bin next to him. “Come on” he said, “go and have a family emergency or something so we can go back to my hotel for a reunion.” “I’m in a hotel too” I said. “Got meetings tomorrow, and the work Christmas do tomorrow night. If I have a family emergency it’s going to be suspect if I turn up in the office tomorrow.” “Fine” he said. “Then think of something else. But my cock is going up your arse tonight, come what may.” With that, he marched back inside, and I could see through the glass that he had headed for the toilets. I took a last deep inhale from the cigarette, stubbed it out on the bin and then paused for a moment. I racked my brain, and then came up with a yarn about my daughter having had a nightmare and insisting on her daddy reading her a bedtime story over the phone, and then went back inside to make my apologies. I eventually got myself out of there, and once I had collected my bag and coat I headed back out onto the street where Dean was waiting. He smiled at me, but before I could say anything he turned towards the road and waved down a black cab. We piled in, and then sat in silence for the short ride to his hotel. Once there, he marched me up to the enormous suite he was staying in. “Drink?” he asked, opening the minibar. “Whisky” I said, with a little shake in my voice. He grabbed a couple of bottles out of the fridge, emptied them into glasses, and then handed me the one containing whisky. He then turned and headed for some balcony doors, and strode outside onto what was really just a narrow ledge with a railing. I followed him out there, and accepted one of the two cigarettes he had just lit. “Cheers” he said, clinking his glass against mine. “Cheers” I replied, before necking the glass of whisky in one go. “Getting yourself some Dutch Courage” he said, smirking. “I need it” I responded, not actually sure if I was being truthful. Twenty years, and yet I suddenly felt at ease being there with him on that balcony. He necked his own drink, took a deep inhale from his cigarette and then rested it on an ashtray on the floor, before darting back inside the using the phone to order a bottle of champagne on room service. He then emptied another couple of small bottles from the minibar into the glasses and came back outside. “So no man action at all then?” he asked me, after we had clinked glasses again. “None” I said. “Met Sarah on the grad programme at EY, and have been with her ever since.” “Well, congratulations” he said. “But the fact you’re here right now tells me things aren’t perfect.” I paused for a while, taking in the view and gathering my thoughts, before I responded. “I guess we’re happy” I said. “I mean, we have three great kids, a nice house, and lots of friends.” “But?” he asked, after I had paused again. “But, I think maybe I’m just playing a role” I said. “Doing what’s expected of me, I guess.” “Are you gay?” he asked, startling me with the directness of the question. “No, no” I said, before stopping. “But, well, I guess I’m not straight either. And…” I trailed off into silence, but this time he didn’t push and just waited for me to resume talking. “The thing is” I continued, “I’ve never stopped thinking about how it made me feel being with you, and lately it’s been on my mind a lot.” “You mean what it was like to be fucked?” he asked. “Yeah, I guess so” I said. “I think maybe it was better than anything I’ve had with Sarah.” He gave a little chuckle. “I think” he said, “that regardless of which way you swing, the reality is that you’re a bottom. A very repressed bottom, but a bottom nonetheless.” It startled me hearing him be so blunt about it, but I guess I knew it was the truth. I had used my career, my marriage, fatherhood and everything else under the sun to try to quell that need, but it was there all along. I was a bottom. I am a bottom. I want to be fucked. We stood in silence as we smoked the last of our cigarettes, and just after stubbing them out a knock at the room door indicated the next round of drinks had arrived. We went back inside, me instinctively stepping out of sight of the door as Dean went to open it. He appeared again a moment later with two glasses and the bucket of champagne, which he plonked down on the room’s small table. However, he didn’t open it, and instead turned and walked over to me. I immediately began to quiver as he stood in front of me, reached up with his hand to cup my cheek, and then leaned in and planted his lips on mine. After briefly freezing, I allowed myself to melt into the kiss as our tongues intertwined, his stubble against my face being both an odd sensation but strangely, gloriously familiar. We kissed for a while, before he pulled away and looked into my eyes. “I’m going to pop open that champagne, and then it’s time to pop you open again after far too long” he said, smiling warmly at me in a way that made me melt even more. “OK” I whispered. “You know” he said, as he walked back to the table and started stripping the foil off the top of the bottle, “it was touch and go with me even being at this thing tonight. Only just got over the worst flu of my life.” With that, he popped the cork off the bottle, poured out two glasses, then walked back over to me and handed me one. “To rekindled friendship and bottoming for England” he said, smiling as he clinked my glass with this. “To that” I said, smiling back at him. We each took a couple of sips, and then he took my glass back off me and placed both of them on the bedside table I was standing beside. “Now” he said, “let’s change your life.” If only I had known just how deeply that change would go…

“You alright in there hun?” my wife called out from the corridor. “Yeah” I managed to holler back, between the groans and the panting. “Big one” I eventually added. I heard her laugh out loud, before she presumably made her way down the stairs to get ready for the weekend away with her sister. I, meanwhile, did everything I could to not collapse onto my front as the man she’d picked out for me on Grindr tore my arse in two with his raw horse cock. For the many men who have drunkenly sobbed while admitting their sexuality to their wives, there would be something you might call an ‘aftermath’. Separation, divorce, having to build a new life from scratch, and so on. They would have some internal peace and freedom, but also the challenge of setting out to find a place for themselves in a world of which they probably knew and understood little. For those in their late 40s, this world may have seemed to have already passed them by, with its focus on youth and beauty. In my case things were a little different. It was bisexuality that I revealed to my wife, a few days after our youngest son had been dropped off at university for the start of his first year, leaving us for the first time with an empty nest. She held me tight as years of pent-up emotions flowed out of me, and she proved to be astute enough to recognise that I was really telling her I was gay. She had sort of guessed I might be at some point in the marriage, but so good a father and husband was I that she let it be until the day it would need dealing with. A week with no offspring to focus on had caused that day to come, and with a bottle of Rioja serving as the catalyst, the fragile walls finally fell. This night of revelation did not, however, come with the dissolution of our marriage. At that point I somehow still believed I wanted to be with her, and that I just needed to get out of me the truth about the unrequited urges I had experienced all of my life. She seemed to know better than me, and immediately began to hatch a plan to help me realise who I actually was. We truly loved each other, and the heroine that she is, she knew that the most loving thing she could now do for me was to help me find a path to being fulfilled and happy. It took a while, but as she sensed me becoming more comfortable with myself now that some version of the truth was out, she eventually suggested that we could bring another man into the bedroom for a night so that I could try things out without it being cheating. I was initially horrified, but could not get the idea out of my mind and soon let her know I was up for it. She organised everything, and throughout the evening we spent with the handsome man she’d contacted, she really knew how to get me to quell my nerves and enjoy it. That first evening I only really explored his body, the experience of touching his naked flesh and grasping his erect cock being enough to take me over the edge. However, as these threeways became more regular, I got bolder and more confident, until eventually I was to be found gripping my wife’s hand tightly as I was fucked for the first time. Within just three weeks of that, the sessions were no longer threeways (if they ever really were), with my wife getting whoever she had brought over settled in with me before making herself scarce. I found my true calling as an eager and hungry bottom, and in a short space of time added ‘cumdump’ to that description after a guy asked if he could do away with the condom. This development in my sex life was something I did not tell my wife about though. Had I done so I imagine I would soon have found myself on PrEP, which would have been sensible. There we go. This brings me back to the horse cock. It was huge, stretching me like nothing before, causing some pain, and yet I could have happily stayed on that thing all day. The guy was actually good for a second go after a bit of a rest, so by the time he left in the late afternoon I had two of his loads lodged deep inside me. By this point my wife was also gone, and would not be back until Monday lunchtime, and I had not actually made any other plans. There was half a bottle of wine left over from the night before that I decided to enjoy outside in the evening sunshine while I basked in the afterglow of the best sex of my life, inadvertently setting in motion the events that would finally land me right at the far end of the Kinseyian scale. My wife already knew I was there, and the next few hours would help me to understand it too. The wine lubricated my inhibitions, and the dull ache in my arse along with the knowledge there were loads in there just got me increasingly horny. However, with my wife away my mind started to turn to the sorts of videos I had been secretly watching on my phone of guys getting bred anonymously in woods, public toilets and other such places. Visions of these types of encounters occupied my mind as I found myself wandering to the corner shop to buy another bottle of wine, and it was while I was approaching the till that I just felt something snap in me. I put the wine back, picked up a couple of cans of premixed cocktails instead from the fridge, then grabbed a tub of Vaseline off the shelf. With the evening light fading, I headed out of the shop with my purchases and turned towards the country park near our house, making my way to the wooded area at the far side. I had always heard things about that place, and tonight I was going to find out for myself what it was all about. I stopped on the way at a bench, sitting down to open up one of the cocktails and ensure I maintained the buzz that was so emboldening me. I was probably on that bench for half an hour before I finally got back on with my quest, dropping the two empty cocktail cans into a litter bin I passed by en route. I really had no idea where specifically I was looking for, so ended up wandering aimlessly around in the trees for quite a while. Fortunately there was a nearly full moon and clear skies, so I was just about able to see where I was going. Eventually the flare of a cigarette being lit off to the side caught my attention, and I headed in that direction to see what I might find. There was a little clearing around a recently fallen tree, and there I found a couple of guys standing at the side smoking. They were watching me intently, but I decided to stop across from them for a moment. I gently leaned against a tree and looked over at them while they smoked, hoping I was sending the right signals. One of them eventually approached me slowly, looking me up and down in the dim light as he got closer. “Nice evening” he said. “Yeah” I replied, “it is.” “Good to be outside” he continued. “Yeah” I said again. “More free outside.” He smirked at me. “Is that so?” he asked. “So you looking for freedom?” “I’m looking for fun” I said, feeling a little bolder. “Great” he said, before gesturing towards the remaining stump of the tree at the edge of the clearing. “That’s where we tend to find freedom in these parts.” I took a deep breath, and then walked over to the stump. With my back still turned to the men, I took another deep breath and then pulled down my shorts to reveal my lack of underwear below. I then bent forward and waited. I never looked behind me at what followed, so I don’t know which of them it was who poked at my hole with his fingers, nor whether it was the same one who pressed his cock against my open hole and slid in as the first one of the night. I never saw who took me second, nor whether anyone else joined in who may have added the third or fourth loads to my hole. I just stayed there, bent over as I was fucked, my head a little light and my whole body on fire as I gave in to my true nature. I could happily have stayed there all night. But after four fucks it seemed to be over, so I stood up straight and pulled up my shorts before turning round. The same two men as before were there lighting up cigarettes, making me think it probably had just been them. “Want one?” offered the man who had spoken to me earlier, shaking the pack in my direction. I walked over to take one, despite not being a smoker, and it just so happened that the other one tapped on his phone at that point which caused both of their bare torsos to be lit up. The huge biohazard tattoos on their chests were unmissable, and I felt my stomach drop as I put the cigarette between my lips. I was not a smoker, but through the initial coughs, that cigarette was a godsend. Yet, I did none of the things someone should do in that situation. I did not leave. I did not go to A&E and seek PEP. I did not learn. No, I stuck around, smoked more of their cigarettes, and then bent back over the stump for another pair of loads from them. I came back the next night and took several more, including from another man who had joined in that evening whose status seemed pretty clear from the scorpions inked on his neck. In the week that followed my wife never asked any questions or batted an eyelid as I set out in running gear after dark on each and every night. She must have suspected that something had changed, and I was now going it alone. Maybe she knew the risks I was taking, maybe she didn’t, but it was never brought up. Then she was gone again for another weekend away that seemed to come out of nowhere, and I was free to do away with the exercise charade. I was free to spend longer out in the park without worrying about getting enough sleep for work. I was free to invite the two men back when it was clear that the heavens were about to open. I was free to spend all night face down or on my back on my marital bed as the pair of them used me nearly continuously. When the inevitable happened and I came down with the flu, my wife dutifully nursed me through the conversion. Apparently while out of it I had blurted out a slightly incoherent account of all that I had been up to, as she took me off to get tested once I was mostly recovered. Then we set about sorting out an amicable divorce so that she could have her freedom, as she had helped me to find mine. She’s now remarried to a great guy, and they’ve moved to a house on the coast to which I get invited for Christmas and other landmark family occasions. The kids sometimes come and stay with me at my apartment, but mostly I’m alone and able to pursue my own passions. Well, my one passion. I am an out-and-proud poz gay cumdump, living his best middle aged life. My hole rarely goes a day without being filled, and I am nearly always carrying around some remnant of a load. Whether it’s hookups at home via apps, visits to the local cruising bar that I deliberately moved close to, or many an al fresco adventure, I see plenty of action. I have even done some topping during med breaks, given how easy it is to find a handsome young man who wants what I can give while I give my body a break from the cocktail. This will all do for a while, before I maybe look for something more from someone. There’s many years of self-repression still to exorcise from the system, but I’m in excellent shape and still getting what I need wherever I can find it. Long may it last!

Sitting in the lounge at the airport I finally started thinking through all that had happened, and what would be coming next. There was no way I had not been infected, so that was definitely ahead of me. There was also no way I was going back to being a top, so infection aside, things were probably heading for a kaboom with my boyfriend. I felt excited by the first one, and strangely unemotional about the second. I didn’t much fancy thinking about the conversation to come though, so I took out my phone and started to have a look around for some options. Sure enough, Etsy and eBay between them offered me what I needed, so before I boarded I had taken the first steps in changing up my look a little with orders for some seriously huge silver chains. I also took the plunge and bought a carton of cigarettes at the duty free, deciding that I was going to be free in all senses. Deciding not to delay things, I just blurted it all out to my boyfriend when I got home, and I suppose it made things easier that he chose to grab some of his stuff and leave rather than ordering me out. I was paying the lion’s share of the mortgage, but still might have expected to be the one out on the street given what I had done. I also chose to confide in a friend to give my side of the story before things got out, and then set about preparing for what was to come by buying in various medicines. Sure enough, two days later I woke up feeling like death, and endured a week of flu as I converted. A quick visit to a clinic once I was better confirmed the result. Things did of course fall apart on several fronts. The work done in Athens garnered me a promotion and pay rise so I could afford the mortgage on my own, but my ex-boyfriend saw to the end of a lot of our mutual friendships from my side at least. My own friends were mostly either absent or annoyingly ‘concerned’ about me, but in time it settled down so that I was left with a smaller social group of those who either could not care less or were perhaps themselves a bit more drawn to the kinkier side of life. I decided to stay off meds for a while, enjoying my freedom and offering my gift to others who sought it. Then, about a year later, as I was about to go to bed one night I was startled by a rapping on the door. When I opened it my ex was standing there, with a strange expression on his face. Without speaking I motioned him inside, and he made a beeline for the drinks cabinet and poured himself a whisky. I just stood and watched him as he downed the glass and then poured another. “I need you to poz me” he eventually said. “You do?” I asked. “Yes” he replied. “I need you to poz me, and make me yours again.” I stared at him for a moment, a little unsure what to do, but also feeling something inside that surprised me. I missed him and wanted him back, I realised, but I knew things had changed. “I’m versatile, I need more than one cock to satisfy me, and that’s not going to change” I said. “I know” he replied. “I can be verse, and we can be open.” “We can?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. “Yes” he said. “I think I need to be fucked by other guys too, but I want us to be a thing again.” “A thing?” I asked. “I love you” he said. “I fucking hated you for cheating on me and getting yourself infected, but I think I understand now because I need it too.” “Are you sure?” I asked. “Yes” he said. “I want to be free, like you.” And so it was that, not too long after, I pushed my unmedicated poz cock between my boyfriend’s perky ebony buttcheeks and slid inside him. A couple of hours later I made him prove his versatility by fucking me, before I added a second load to his hole. The next night I made him prove his willingness to share and be shared, as we headed to Hampstead Heath and took everything that came our way. Over the course of the weeks it took to finally gift him, he never wavered and we instead fell right back in love with the true versions of one another. He cried happy tears when his test result came back, and I could not help but join in too. This was never the happy ending I had expected, but it’s funny how these things work out. The waiter had freed not only me but eventually the man it turned out I loved too, and we are now happier than we ever were before. Indeed, I am planning to propose and make it official, and have booked us tickets to Athens so that I can do it there. It just so happens I have managed to rent the same apartment I had before, and the waiter is looking forward to seeing me again and meeting my man. It’s going to be a fab and life-changing holiday, and I cannot wait…

The next two nights were the same, but then the prospect of my imminent departure suddenly became a thing. “We go out tonight” said the waiter, as he got dressed on my penultimate morning there. “I finish early, you be ready.” Well, I was as ready as I could be when he did indeed show up that night, and I duly followed him back downstairs to a motorbike parked in the alley. I put on the spare helmet and then sat behind him holding on to his impressive torso as we took off into the Athens night. We ended up a remote part of the perimeter of the abandoned old airport, and after he parked and secured the bike we walked to an opening in the fence and climbed through. He seemed to know where he was going so I just followed him through the darkness until we reached one of the disused Olympic venues. We wandered into the structure below the stands until he was happy with a chosen spot, and then he told me to strip. I took off everything except my jockstrap, then slid my trainers back on to protect my feet. It was hard to see what I was doing, so I took his direction as he used the light from his phone to indicate a steel beam I should bend over. Within a moment of getting into position he started to push his cock into me, and I settled in for yet another poz breeding. He took his time, and I realised he was probably just stalling until some others arrived. I was right, as eventually a couple of guys turned up, followed by a few more. I guess the waiter decided there was enough of an audience, and accelerated his thrusts until he slammed in one final time and unloaded in me. Once he had come down from his high, he pulled out and someone else replaced him. I couldn’t really see who was there, as what light there was from phones was pointed at me so they were all in he gloom beyond. The second guy fucked me quite roughly, bred me, and then was replaced by a third. At this point, however, the waiter bent over next to me on the beam, and he was soon rocking back and forth as someone fucked him. He groaned slightly for a bit as he got used to it, but then as he adjusted he turned to me. “All poz” he panted. I had assumed as such, but my dick still got harder at the confirmation that I was being fucked anonymously by a crowd of poz men outdoors while trespassing. This really was a sordid way to see out my time in Athens! The waiter took a load or two, and then stood up and disappeared out of view. I stayed where I was, being taken in turn by various men and enjoying the variety of shapes and sizes of cocks that were being thrust into me. In due course another man bent over where the waiter had been and took a load, and a while after another guy did the same. Then the waiter was back, and this time stayed put as men used us side by side. Despite my initial impression of him, he did seem to actually be quite an eager bottom. It still turned me on like crazy to have him next to me getting fucked just as hard as I was, given what an expert top he was in our normal sessions. Eventually the numbers thinned out, and after two men blasted into us almost simultaneously, the festivities were over. My back and legs ached as I stood up straight for the first time in what must have been hours, and I was very glad of the water bottle and lit cigarette the waiter passed to me. Once we had both recovered a bit we used some tissues to clean up the excess cum from our arses and legs, and then started the walk back to the bike in silence. It was a bit uncomfortable sitting on the motorbike for the journey home, so I was glad when we got back. Without a word said the waiter accompanied me upstairs to the apartment, and we took a shower together before climbing into bed naked. He got into the big spoon position behind me, pushed his cock into my gaping hole, and then we drifted off to sleep. The next day was my last in Athens, and it started with a gentle fuck before the waiter disappeared off. After another shower I headed to the office for the final handover of the project to the client, and then came back to pack and start cleaning the place up a bit. The waiter showed up at the end of the night again, and we didn’t do much sleeping as he was focused on giving me as many loads as he could muster. Unlike normal I spent most of the time on my back with our eyes locked together, no words really needing to be said as this ‘project’ was also taken to its conclusion. Then, in the morning as we sipped on some coffee, the waiter wrote down his mobile number on a slip of paper and handed it to me. “You tell me when poz” he said, and I just nodded. Then he was gone.

For the next three nights, I had the waiter in my bed. Maybe sleeping right above his place of work was convenient, or maybe he just liked fucking me senseless and then going to sleep still buried in my cummy hole. Either way, he was now a regular visitor, and despite the fact I was knowingly taking poz loads from him, I did not resist. Truth be told, something had awoken in me, and I had basically come to terms with the fact that being a top for so long in my relationship had kind of broken me. When I got home, whether my boyfriend stuck around or not, I was going to be poz and I was going to be getting fucked regularly. I came home one afternoon to a note that had been pushed through the door. “I bring someone tonight” it read. I felt my stomach flutter, and decided I needed to focus on being both rested as well as able to enjoy whatever was going to be happening to the fullest. I got on the phone and pushed back an appointment the next day so that I could start late morning, and then showered before lying down. After sleeping for quite a while, somehow used to this semi-nocturnal life I was living, I set about getting myself cleaned out before showering again. I then lubed up, pressed in my dildo, then went and sat out on the balcony to smoke and have a drink. I was undeniably nervous, but also really excited for what would be my first ever threeway. It was around 1am when the buzzer went, and as per the new norm I used the buttons to unlock the building door and then opened my own front door so the waiter could just come in. Moments later he strode into the apartment, but it was the man behind who got my attention this time. He was shorter and older than both of us, but looked pretty muscular. Where the waiter had opted for what I thought were massive chains round his neck and wrists, this other guy was operating on a whole other level. I was surprised he could stand up straight with the size of the piece round his neck. He saw me looking at him, and gave me a wink and a grin. “Hello” he said. “I am here to fuck you.” “OK” was all I could utter in response. “Naked” the waiter barked at me, and I quickly pulled down my shorts and removed my T-shirt in response. “Your bedroom?” the other man asked. I pointed, and then followed him as he made his way in, the waiter right behind me. As I reached the bed I felt a familiar hand on my back, and taking the sign I got up onto the mattress on all fours. The dildo had somehow stayed in place, but it was whipped out of me and in no time the waiter was buried deep inside me again. He got into a firm rhythm straight away, and I just took the fuck while looking up at the other man who was, in turn, watching me. After a few minutes, the other man removed his T-shirt, and I could immediately see that the bare skin of his arms was misleading as his torso was covered in ink. It was an elaborate design involving a cobra wrapped around a huge biohazard symbol centred on his navel. The cobra’s body disappeared round one side of the torso, and perhaps sensing my interest, the man turned around to reveal the design continuing onto his back, with the serpent’s tail evolving into a scorpion’s sting. Like the waiter currently fucking me, this other man wore his tattoos as a statement of intent. After he had shown me his back, the man turned back around, got up onto the bed on his knees, and presented his huge and presumably toxic cock to me to suck. I happily swallowed it down as my body was rocked back and forth by the waiter’s thrusts, and my first spit-roast began. It felt so amazingly right, and I knew then that it was going to be something I sought out a lot more in future. I loved sucking cock and at least got to do that a lot with my boyfriend, but doing it while a massive raw cock reamed out my other end was pure heaven. The waiter eventually blew yet another of his loads in me and withdrew, and the two men swapped positions. I licked and sucked the waiter’s cock to get it clean, doing my best to distract myself as I was stretched even wider by the other man pushing into me. He gave me a moment to adjust before he began to pound me, and this time I could not help but moan around the waiter’s cock as I was fucked. It was intense and a lot to take, but I loved it at the same time and was a little disappointed when he suddenly sped up and blew inside me. After disengaging and notionally throwing on some clothes, we all went out to the small balcony to smoke. The two men spoke in Greek as though I wasn’t there, but gave me some attention again once the cigarettes were finished. I was ushered inside and this time put on my back on the bed. The waiter lifted my legs up, slid into me, and then bent toward so his face was quite close to mine. It was only when he started slightly grimacing that I realised what was happening: the other man was pushing into the waiter’s hole, starting off a chain fuck. “He poz me” panted the waiter. I knew this must have meant that the man who had fucked me earlier was the one who had converted the waiter, who before this point I had assumed was a total top. It was so fucking hot, and as much as I was loving looking up at him making faces as the thrusting began, I knew I had to get to see this happen properly at some point tonight. That opportunity came after a few minutes when the other man sped up a bit, and everything going out of sync caused the waiter’s cock to slip out of me. Before he could re-insert, I pushed myself backwards and rolled away, standing up and turning around to watch. It was so amazing to see that giant of a man bent over and taking the huge cock, his massive neck chain swaying like crazy as he was rocked back and forth. I knew I had to get to fuck him as well, so I went and stood right beside the two of them. The other man maybe sensed what I wanted, and withdrew from the waiter. In a flash I slid in between them and pushed my erect cock into the waiter’s muscular arse. I did a few rapid thrusts before I felt a hand on my back, so I leaned forward and tried to relax as the other man inched his massive cock into my hole. Wow. Being in the middle was definitely something I liked, whether I was on all fours being spit-roasted or taking the ‘versatile’ position in a fuck-chain. Topping the waiter was also a serious rush, especially as it turned out he was a very eager bottom. He was so fucking manly and dominant, but now my neg cock was inside him and he was loving it. I reached down and grabbed his colossal neck chain, gripping it in my hand and pulling it back like the reins on a horse. He seemed to love that, and began pounding himself back against me so that I only had to stand still while he fucked himself on my cock while the other man barrelled slightly vertically into me from behind. This was fucking awesome, but it also took me over the edge far too quickly and I found myself roaring out as I blew inside the waiter. I slumped forward onto his back, and then we both rocked back and forth as the other man gradually worked himself up to orgasm and exploded inside me for a second time that night. All night went on like this. The waiter and I regularly traded places, and on one occasion we were both on all fours next to each other, eyes locked in contact as the other man alternated between us. All of their loads went up my rear end, but I added a couple more of mine into the waiter’s needy hole. I could not believe the transformation in him I had witnessed just because of the other guy’s presence, but it never stopped being a massive turn-on for me. He seemed to know that, but was also quite relaxed about showing me his versatile side. I guess we were pretty similar in that way, and I was also starting to get quite into the idea of investing in some massive chains of my own when I got home given how much I liked the look on the two of them. Whether I ended up covered in poz-themed tattoos was another matter, but perhaps once I inevitably converted I would get into that. Morning came all too soon, and with a final couple of loads delivered into my gaping hole, the two men left. I was utterly fucked out and fell asleep within moments of them leaving, before I then had to get up and go back to being a professional for the rest of the day. That night the waiter was back, and we returned to normal business with him topping me all night and adding a couple more of his poz loads to the collection I was already building inside of me.

For the next two nights I basically repeated that first day, eating in the restaurant in the evening, going to the toilet after paying, and then ending up bent over in the bin pen with the hunky waiter’s raw cock up my arse. On the fourth day, however, I unexpectedly got back to the apartment in the afternoon as the client had to go away to review some work before I could do anything else, and I found myself out on the small balcony off my bedroom lighting up a cigarette. The waiter’s bad influence, along with the sudden freedom I was feeling, had got me back into smoking again while I was free of my boyfriend’s disapproving nagging. While out there the waiter and another staff member appeared below, also stepping out for a cigarette, and he eventually looked up and noticed me. He did not react until the kitchen hand went back inside, at which point he gestured for me to come down. I hurried through the apartment and down the stairs, and when I got into the alley the waiter was standing beside a different door that led down some steps into a basement. I headed in and down into the darkness, and then he must have flipped a switch as a dim bulb came on that barely illuminated a storage area full of boxes, chairs, tables and other restaurant paraphernalia. I turned to look at him as he reached the bottom of the stairs himself, and he pointed to a pile of boxes at the side. I made my way over, and without any need to be told, dropped my shorts and underwear. He gave my hole a quick poke with his fingers before I felt the familiar push of his cock, and shortly afterwards I was being fucked hard once again. He took his time a bit more than the alleyway ruttings though, so by the time he blew in me I felt truly fucked out. Once up in the alley again he lit up a couple of cigarettes and passed me one as per normal. “I come upstairs tonight” he said. “I stay.” Again, this was not a question but a statement, and as usual I just nodded at him. I showed him the address on my phone so he knew which apartment bell to ring, and then he smoked the last of his cigarette, headed for the main back door to the restaurant, and was gone. My nerves really took hold later that night, as I realised I was going to have this man in the apartment all night, and he was basically still a complete stranger. I decided to get my laptop and other valuables hidden away just in case, and then spent a bit of time with the dildo getting myself primed. He hadn’t seemed at all bothered on any of the encounters thus far, but I still decided to detach the shower head as a means of cleaning myself out a bit. It was nearly 2am when the buzzer sounded in the apartment, and I pressed what looked like the correct buttons on the keypad to unlock the front door. A moment later he tapped on the apartment door, and I let him in. He was carrying two half-empty bottles of red wine that I guessed some restaurant patrons hadn’t finished, so I grabbed a couple of glasses from the kitchen and led him through the bedroom to the balcony. We stood out there having some of the wine and smoking a cigarette, neither of us saying a word. His eyes were on me the whole time, something I still found exhilarating even after nearly a week of taking his loads downstairs. Then he gulped down the last of the glass of wine and went back into the bedroom, so I did the same. I pulled the balcony door closed and drew the curtain, before switching on a bedside lamp. “Naked” he said, and I hurriedly pulled down my shorts and removed my T-shirt. Then he unbuttoned the tight, dark blue shirt that he and the other waiters all wore as their outfit, and my world turned upside down. Only part of the epic tattoo designs on his skin had ever been visible to me, but with his body now on full display, I could see that he had inked onto himself what I can only describe as a manifesto. Scorpions on the sides of his torso, thorny rose stems winding everywhere, and on both his upper arms and above his crotch were huge biohazard symbols. “You like” he said, smiling at me. I just gulped in response. “You are neg?” he asked. I nodded, staring back at the tattoo above his balls. “You take prep?” he continued. I paused, before shaking my head. I then looked up at his face, to see his smile had taken on an evil glint. “Then I poz you tonight” he said, very matter-of-factly. “Get on bed.” Obviously I should have ended things there. I should have got him out of the apartment, and then started finding some way to get hold of a course of PEP. I should have engaged my brain. But no, that is of course not what happened. Despite the now overt risk to my health, I found myself climbing onto the bed and getting on all fours. Mere moments later I was bearing down as this toxic stud pushed his raw cock into me for the umpteenth time, willingly giving myself over to my fate. It was a firm and steady fuck, with the waiter taking his time as he had done down in the basement. He eventually pushed me forward, keeping his cock planted inside me as he got me flat on the bed with him lying on my back. It was so gloriously submissive that it almost felt right that he would be leaving part of himself in me forever. Pressed down hard on the bed, feeling him almost consume me as his cock barrelled away deep inside me, a wave of something almost euphoric wash over me. I was his to use, however he wanted, and I would be a different man by the time I went home. That night there were only occasional moments when his cock wasn’t buried in me. Loo and cigarette breaks, or the odd change in position. He took me in every way imaginable, though the hottest was in missionary when we had not broken eye contact once as he fucked me senseless and then filled me with another poz load. We were even able to have some bouts of sleep with his cock still inside me, broken each time by him waking and then starting to fuck me again. It was late morning when we finally stepped out onto the balcony in the sunshine to have a final cigarette, the waiter now dressed again and me just in briefs and a T-shirt. My hole was sore, gaping, and leaking the last of the loads he had planted in there, but I didn’t care. The bedding would all be going in the washing machine soon anyway, so I would also be able to deal with the growing wet patch in the back of my underwear. “When you leave?” he asked, blowing out smoke. “Not for another week” I replied. “That is good” he said, nodding but looking up at the sky. “I bring someone here.” “OK” I said, though not entirely sure what he meant. “Next week” he said. “But I come back tonight.” Nothing more was said, and he was soon gone. Rather later than planned I got myself showered and dressed, figured out the apartment’s washing machine to get the bedding and my dirty clothes in for a cycle, and then logged on to my laptop. Later in the day I went to the client’s office to deal with some clarification questions in person so they could hopefully get their review of the report and proposal completed, and then I was back at the apartment at leisure again. I slept in the evening, and at around 1.30am was awake and lubed for when the waiter returned. We both had less energy than the previous night, and I needed to get up at a sensible hour this time, but we still managed to fuck three times before he left the next day.

To say my boyfriend was not best pleased about me suddenly having to go to Athens is putting it mildly. Two whole weeks, straddling the weekend we were already supposed to be going to his cousin’s wedding in Ireland. There was no way I could get out of it given the importance of this job for my company, and with the wedding on the Friday when I now knew I would have to be presenting the work to the Greek communications minister himself, any hopes of me being able to jet over to Cork for that part at least were dashed. My boyfriend was also not going to be able to join me in Athens at all, given the commitments in Ireland over the long weekend and his own work pressures outside of that. Still, he was decidedly pissed off with me, and I left under something of a cloud for the late night flight from Heathrow. I had been put up in an OK apartment over a restaurant, with a small balcony off the bedroom over a back alley. I got there in the early hours and just crashed out in bed, and had then struggled through the first day of client meetings on only a few hours sleep. Fortunately I had been able to get back to the apartment not too late for a sleep, after which I realised I was ravenous having had little food all day. I just went downstairs to eat, figuring I would sort myself out properly with some provisions from a supermarket at some point. The restaurant was fine, but it was the waiter who got my attention. I am pretty tall at 6’2”, but he had at least another two inches over me. He was massively muscular, with a shaved head and jet black facial hair. Tattoos covered his arms and neck, and he was adorned with huge silver chains around his wrists and neck, along with massively thick silver hoop earrings. But, on top of the striking appearance, it was the way that he looked at me that got my heart pounding. From when he was taking my order and making me feel very small and meek, to the number of times I caught him leering in my direction, I felt like I was an item of prey being singled out by a predator. It was disconcerting but massively exhilarating. My boyfriend was such a submissive bottom in the bedroom that I had let that side of myself lie dormant for the four years we had been together, but with this Athenian stud boring into me with his gaze, my pulse was racing with excitement. After I had finished and paid, I decided that I would see if there was a supermarket still open somewhere to get in stuff for breakfast, so first headed for the small single toilet at the back of the restaurant rather than bothering to go back upstairs to use the bathroom. However, when I emerged the waiter was standing by the open back door out into the alley, just lighting up a cigarette. He glanced in my direction and then offered me one, which I found myself accepting even though I had quit several years ago. He gestured for me to step out into the alley, and then the door closed behind us. I got a little light headed from the first couple of puffs of the cigarette, which must have shown as the waiter was smirking at me. I felt myself go red under his gaze, which got a laugh out of him. “Come” he said, lightly pushing me up the alley a little. He then steered me into a sort of fenced-off pen for large bins, completely out of sight of everything else. I could feel myself shaking, and took a few more deep puffs of the cigarette to try to calm down. I did not know what this was, but the danger was evident and yet I was doing nothing to get myself out of it. “I want fuck you” the waiter said in broken English. “Show me your bottom.” A sensible man would have fled, but something about this situation had got me fired up. Back when I had been more versatile I had enjoyed tops taking control, and in this moment the years of suppressing that side of me were over. With barely a second thought, I turned around, undid my jeans, and pushed them and my boxer briefs down. With a gentle push on my back from the waiter, I bent forward and rested my arms on one of the bins. With my heart pounding and my breath ragged, I felt his fingers touching my hole, and then the unmistakable wet softness of his tongue making contact. I moaned as he gave me my first rim job in years, any doubts or guilt about cheating on my boyfriend were somehow silenced. The waiter’s tongue was replaced with his fingers, this time pushing in a bit. I relaxed to let him in, my hole at least having had some workout over the years from the dildo I used when I was jerking off alone. However, when the waiter pressed his cock against me I immediately knew this was going to be something else altogether as, despite not having seen it yet, I could tell it was huge. Still, I pushed out and tried to relax as best I could, allowing him to gain entry and then slowly, thrillingly, push himself entirely into me. Only once I felt his body pressed against his buttocks did I breathe out, and then took slow gulps of air as I tried to adjust to the mammoth member buried in me. He waited for a minute or two, and then began to slowly pull out and push back in. I could not help but moan in pleasure as he began to fuck, so totally turned on by the depravity of being taken in a back alley by a man I did not know. The fact that he was in me raw only added to the exhilaration. He fucked me pretty hard, and soon accelerated to a ridiculous pace as he neared orgasm. Then, with a roar (the first utterance he had made since telling me to show him my arse), he slammed in and held in place as his dick throbbed inside me. I was being bred in a back alley, and it was fucking awesome. Then, without any ado, he withdrew and I heard him pulling up his own trousers. I reached down for my own jeans and pulled them up, before turning round to see him lighting up another two cigarettes. He handed one to me, and then took a deep puff of his own one. “You stay above?” he asked, pointing up at the apartments on top of the restaurant. “Yes” I croaked. “For two weeks.” “OK” he said. “I fuck you here every night then.” This was not a suggestion or request, that much I could tell, so I just nodded. He then took a couple more deep puffs of his cigarette, flicked the butt out into the alley, and then turned and walked out of the bin pen. I heard the back door of the restaurant slam shut a moment later. I just stood there in a daze, feeling his cum dripping out of me, and smoked the cigarette he had given me. Then I stubbed it out on the side of one of the bins, dropped the butt inside the metal container, and slowly made my way out of the pen and round to my apartment. There was no supermarket visit.

Is this the one? It’s one of my favourites:

The doors of the club opened, and the gang headed in to its palatial interior. It all seemed to be silent and abandoned, and they gathered in the centre of the giant entrance hall to look around. After a few minutes, their attention was collectively caught by the sound of one of the giant sets of double doors at the side opening, and they nervously edged towards the passageway beyond. They had still not caught sight of anyone else, but Dorian purposefully strode forward nonetheless, giant dildo in hand, with the rest of them behind him. They started descending some spiral stairs, and as they did so they heard the sound of the double doors they had come through closing again. Undeterred, they continued down until they reached another passageway where there was light ahead from an open door. They proceeded until they entered another enormous room, around the edge of which were a series of black and red curtains. Once again, they gathered in the centre of the room to await whatever came next. “Welcome!” boomed a voice out of the many speakers around the room. “You have succeeded in your quest, and now you will receive your rewards.” The gang nervously looked at one another during a long pause that followed. Then, at the side of the room, one of the sets of curtains opened. “Scotty, come forward!” boomed the voice. After hesitating for a moment, the dishevelled man eventually started edging towards the open curtain. As he did so, he noticed a large book sitting on a table in the centre of the space beyond the curtain. “You wanted brains” boomed the voice, “but you always had them. Your reward is this encyclopedia, so that you begin to gain knowledge. Go forth and learn, and cut your hair while you are at it!” Scotty approached the book, and as he did so the curtain closed behind him. Another curtain then opened on the other side of the room, catching the rest of the gang’s attention. “Leo, approach!” boomed the voice, prompting the blond stud to walk towards the space that had opened up. There he saw a large medal sitting on a plinth, glinting from the spotlight above. “You wanted courage, but you have proven yourself to be as brave as a man can be!” Leo smiled as he reached for the medal, the curtain closing behind him as well. A third curtain then opened in the room. “Steele, now it is your turn” boomed the voice. The hunk strode over to the space, his eyes drawn to the giant silver chain sitting on a cushioned stool. As he got closer, he saw a huge and heavy heart-shaped pendant was attached to it. “You wanted a heart, but you have already shown you do truly care for others.” Steele smiled as he reached for the huge chain, lifting it over his head to add to the collection round his neck. As he admired the massive pendant on his chest in a nearby mirror, the curtain closed behind him too. Finally a fourth curtain opened, revealing clearly two big frames with leather slings hanging from them. “Dorian and Toto, approach!” boomed the voice. Nervously the boyfriends took each other’s hands and walked towards the space, a little bewildered as to what their reward was going to be. “You both want your freedom, and to get home. Soon you will be back in Kansas, but first we must set you free.” The curtain closed behind them, and then a door opened in the side wall. Eight large men emerged, all wearing an array of leather harnesses, collars and cuffs. They split into two groups of four, and proceeded to surround the two lovers. Without a word, they began to undress the men from Kansas, before turning them around and lifting them into the slings. Neither Dorian or Toto said a word as their wrists and ankles were attached to cuffs suspended from the sling chains, too surprised they were by the pace at which they had been stripped and manhandled into position. Only once they were in position did a ninth man enter the space. He was small and fat, and dressed in leather trousers, a black leather vest, and a Muir cap decorated with various gems. His arms were covered with tattoos of spiders, scorpions and the hazard symbol that the Kansas boys were used to seeing on a lot of the chemicals they used in their farm work. “Good” said the man, giving himself away as the one who had been booming out through the speakers. “You are ready.” “Ready for what sir?” asked Dorian. “The final conversion” the man replied. “Since you arrived, you have both been receiving special gifts, from your friends out there, the monkey men I sent after you, or the Bitch’s army of fanatics. But now you will be treated to mine, and those of my boys here, to seal the deal.” “Wh…what do you mean?” Dorian asked, his stomach twisting in knots as realisation of what this was about dawned on him. “I am the Wizard of Poz” said the fat man. “All who live here are carriers, but I keep the most potent strains contained here at Emerald City for special occasions. This is one such occasion.” Dorian looked over at Toto, and was shocked to see his boyfriend’s cock fully erect and a huge smile on his face. “Your little twink here seems ready to accept his fate” said the Wizard. “Please sir” squeaked Toto, his eyes filled with lust. “What about you?” the Wizard said, turning back to the former star high school quarterback. “You arrived here a top, but I can see from the state of your hole that that’s no longer true. Are you ready to make your conversion a certainty?” Dorian felt tears forming in his eyes, but his own cock involuntarily growing hard helped him realise that he wanted this. He didn’t know why, but he wanted this. With every breaching of his hole since he’d arrived here, he had felt himself sliding more and more towards his true self. Now, with the revelation that he’d been getting pozzed the whole time, he almost felt liberated. No more of the act, no more of trying to be this athletic jock hunk who satisfied his secret gay desires by keeping a twink of his own. His true purpose seemed to now be clear, and this toxic man standing in front of him was planning to make it all a reality. With a deep breath, Dorian found himself nodding at the Wizard, giving his permission for what was about to happen.

Dorian Gale looked down the long yellow road ahead to the now-familiar sight of the Emerald City club rising out of the distant landscape. He gripped the object they had been sent to retrieve in his hand, and exhaled. Maybe this this would be over soon. He turned to look at his fellow travellers, all now resting against trees or rocks. Toto, his twinky boyfriend, whose escape-artist antics had started all this. Leo, the timid blond bear who never seemed to fail to find courage when he was horny. Scotty, the dishevelled hobo-looking moron who still seemed to be able to outsmart when he needed to. Steele, the cold and gruff hunk with the metal fetish that seemed to care more than he ever let on. They were a ragtag mob, but had been through a lot together. For Dorian and Toto it had, of course, started when they arrived here. Lost in the heat of the moment, they had not noticed the tornado sirens going until Dorian had finally erupted inside his boyfriend, and when they looked out of the window they realised in horror that they were seconds away from a direct hit. Dorian had barely pulled the mattress off the bed before they were violently thrown across the room, knocking both teens out in the process. When they awoke, they had found themselves somewhere truly alien. Colours, sounds and beings like they had never encountered in their little town near Wichita. Somewhere in the melee of the foam party going on outside, an auburn haired drag queen called Glinda Glitter had eventually emerged from the bubbles and shown them where to go. She had taken her time though, and both Dorian and Toto had been subjected to a near gang-rimming of their holes from the pack of little men running around who seemed to call themselves the Munchkids. Not the worst way to be welcomed to a new land, but certainly very unusual. Anyway, they had eventually extricated themselves from the orgy and set off up the road, following the path of the rather smelly watercourse they had been told was called the Golden Stream. Scotty was the first of their pack that they met, with Dorian and Toto taking pity on the man. This pity was perhaps misplaced, as a bottle of rum had knocked out Toto and left Dorian with his inhibitions lowered. Normally a strict top back in Kansas, he was left dripping cum from his stretched hole by the following morning. Steele was their next encounter, and from the get-go he made it clear he would help the boys if they in turn helped him. Toto had since taken the brunt of that duty, his little frame being tossed around like it was made of feathers by the burly chain-clad hunk whenever they stopped to rest along the way. Dorian’s athletic, muscled body had apparently been of appeal too though, and he had found himself having to give up his hole as well. Leo was their final encounter, and while he was initially afraid to accompany the men, catching site of a wet patch in the back of Dorian’s tight jean shorts had convinced him it might be worth it. The trip thereafter had gone slowly, given the amount of time that Steele wanted to be pounding the living daylights out of Toto. Scotty and Leo made the best of all the stops though, as they worked together to turn Dorian from a closeted jock top to a cumhungry spitroast-craving bottom. Of course, there had also been the Monkey Men. These crazed furries had kidnapped Dorian one night, and the jock had endured two days of being chained up in a cell while being gangbanged round the clock until his fellow travellers had found him and paid the ransom. Only then had this army of furry-fetish freaks agreed to take them to their goal, the dungeon complex of a hoodlum known as the Biggest Bitch of the West. Here, both Dorian and Toto had been forced to get into slings for gangbang breedings from all the military-fetish guys in attendance, providing enough of a distraction for the others to slip away one by one to search the place for their bounty. Somehow it took the equivalent of 20 loads in each of the Kansas boys before Steele located the giant dildo that the Biggest Bitch was apparently so famous for riding, which they had been sent to retrieve to add to the collection back at Emerald City. As they had tried to make their escape, the complex’s owner had nearly caught them but Dorian’s quick thinking had resulted in the Biggest Bitch slumping on the floor into an involuntary high, doused from head to toe in poppers. So now they were back in sight of Emerald City, but would need to wait some hours for it to open. Everyone else was resting, and Dorian eventually decided it was time to do the same. He made his way towards a vacant rock, but as he did so he saw Scotty stirring. Knowing the drill by this point, Dorian instead pulled down his jeans shorts, pulled off the tattered remains of his gingham shirt, and got down on all fours. He wasn’t sure what awaited the group, but for now he settled in for another afternoon of taking cock.

Great story and writing - looking forward to more.

Am in Chicago for a few days, and hooked up with a guy off Recon at his place this afternoon. We smoked a load of cigarettes together while he fucked me, then he bred my chubby arse. Cursory wash of the face, and then I came back to my hotel on the L still carrying his load.

The sound of the steel door being open prompted the Swede and I to stub out our cigarettes and head back to the main factory floor. By that point my fellow bottom and I had introduced ourselves a bit better, so I knew he was called Erik. I also knew he was already starting to wonder about tying himself down to one man when putting himself out there for wider use could be this much fun. I actually envied him a little, as he was young, gorgeous, ripped, and about to be free to enjoy a lifestyle I had robbed myself of the chance to experience until I was already past any traces of my youth. Erik and I watched as three of the men wheeled out a rig, with the other two following with a different one. The first had a leather sling already installed on it, whilst the second had a padded bench with a fuck machine pointed at it. Both the sling and bench were equipped with leather cuffs for strapping in, and there was a huge ribbed dildo on the fuck machine. “You!” barked one of the men, pointing at Erik. “Get in sling.” Erik rushed over to the sling, turned to sit in it and then lay back, lifting his arms and legs so the men could cuff his ankles and attach hooks to the cuffs he was already wearing on his wrists. He then shuffled down into a better position, and waited. I, meanwhile, knew that this probably meant he was going to get their full attention for a while, and I was to be kept entertained on the other rig. I walked over to it, getting a nod from one of the men for my unspoken understanding, and climbed onto the bench. They strapped me down, and then I heard the sounds of some cranks and levers as they manoeuvred the dildo into place. I was given a few huffs of poppers, and then they pressed the giant phallus against my hole and got the machine to push it in. I was loosened from all the fucking earlier, but it still hurt like hell as I was stretched really wide by the giant rubber dong. Once it was in place and I had stopped panting, they turned it on and walk away. The machine was on a variable setting, meaning it alternated between a long slow strokes, jackrabbit pounding, and all sorts of other combinations. I had my face pressed to the padded bench for quite some time as I endured its assault on my hole, but as I loosened further I felt myself relax into the incredible reaming it was giving me. At this point I looked up, pleased they had oriented the bench so I could see the other rig. By this point Erik was being fucked hard by one of the men, and while the others were obscuring his head, I assumed he also had one of their cocks buried in his throat too. I was looking forward to taking his place, even if the men may have already blown a load each by then. Three of the guys fucked Erik, all taking their time and driving him wild. Then, after the third guy withdrew, a fourth stepped up and slid in, but two of them walked over towards me. I looked up at them as they gazed down at me, my body rocking forward in time with the thrusts from the machine that must by now have left me gaping. The men then went behind me and the machine stopped, with the dildo being drawn out slowly. One of them reappeared and bent down to undo my wrists, before he walked off across the factory floor leaving me still secured on the bench by my ankles. He returned with my cigarettes and a lighter, placing them on the floor next to me along with a bottle of poppers. Just as he did so, I felt pressure on my hole but this time it was from something huge. My hole was not giving in to what I assumed must be an even larger dildo, so I grabbed the poppers and started huffing while trying to push out. Then my hole gave in, and what felt like a tube train started pushing into me. I huffed like crazy as it slowly made its way in, until the movement stopped and I was completely filled. The machine then turned back on, but this time it was solely doing short, slow thrusts, the length and girth of whatever was in side of me causing me to moan with each movement. The men watched me for a few moments, then went back to where Erik was taking his fourth fucking of this session. I watched them as I tried to adjust to the monster ravaging my hole, noticing that the machine seemed to be pushing a little deeper and faster as time went on. Guessing I was probably in for being split in two by this thing once it was at full speed, I reached for my cigarettes and lit one up while I still had a chance. I puffed the whole thing out and then lit up another as the machine gained intensity, my whole body being thrust back and forth on the bench as my hole took more abuse than it ever had. All the while I tried to focus on watching Erik taking his fourth and fifth toxic loads in the sling, feeling a little jealous that it wasn’t me up there. When they were done with him, I saw them thrust a giant plug into him and then walk away, leaving the loads to soak into him and speed along his conversion. I, however, got no break, and watched with rising horror as the men once again walked across to the steel door and disappeared out of sight, leaving me to the mercy of the machine. At this point I just started loudly groaning, both from the utter fullness I felt, the pain whenever the machine pushed in really deep, and the pleasure I was still getting from my prostate being stimulated by the beast of a dildo I was taking. The men weren’t gone too long, and this time when they emerged from the steel door they came straight over to me and finally turned off the machine. They withdrew the dildo, and then unstrapped my ankles. I shakily stood up and gratefully accepted a bottle of water one of them handed to me. They gave me a couple of minutes to get my composure, and then walked me over to the steel door. Inside was a dark corridor, leading to a room lit with a couple of lamps in which there were several ragged armchairs and one dirty mattress. One of the men lay down on his back on the mattress, and then signalled me over to mount his erect cock. I did as instructed, sliding down so I was facing him, and then guessing what was to come, I leaned forward. Sure enough, another of the men got on the mattress behind and pushed his cock into me beside the one I had just mounted, my gaping hole offering little resistance to the double-penetration. The man behind then began to thrust in and out, his movements making me also slide up and down a bit on the other cock, and generally bringing me nothing but intense pleasure. I did not hold back in letting them know how much I was enjoying it, and how much I wanted them to dump their poz loads in me again. The guy kneeling behind me lasted quite some time before erupting in me, and then was replaced by another. So it went on, with all four of them fucking and breeding me while I continued to ride the cock of the man lying on the mattress, who only let loose in me once he was in there alone. As I began to lean forward to let his cock slide out of me, a large plug was pressed in to the vacated hole, keeping the remains of the loads they’d dropped in there. I was then encouraged to my feet and directed to the corridor, heading back out to the factory floor while the men remained in the room. There I found Erik still lying in the sling all plugged up, so I grabbed a couple of bottles of water from a pack sitting by the door and then walked over to him. “You thirsty?” I asked. “Yes” he croaked. I decided I probably shouldn’t get him down from the sling completely, but I undid the attachments to his wrist cuffs and then handed him one of the bottles. He thirstily gulped down some water while I fetched my cigarettes, lighting two and then handing him one. “Thank you” he said. “No problem” I replied. “But I don’t think I should get you down.” “No” he said, “that is OK. I am comfortable now that I have drunk.” “I don’t think they’re done with us yet” I said. “I hope not” said Erik, smiling at me. “I could do this all night.” I glanced over at the bench I had been strapped to before, and saw for the first time the sheer size of the dildo that had been ramming into me. “Hold that thought” I said, before looking back at Erik. “If we swap places next, you are in for one hell of a ride.” He gave me a funny look, but then I winked at him and made him smile again. I walked back over to the pack of water and grabbed two more bottles, then came back and handed one to Erik as he finished the first one. I then reached over and firmly patted the plug in his hole, getting a moan out of him, before I headed over to the bench and lay down on my back. My legs needed a break, but sitting wasn’t really an option with the plug in me. I stared up at the cracked ceiling of the factory, noticing how much the light was fading now, and took a deep inhale of my cigarette. I was full of poz cum, my hole was wrecked, and yet I had the feeling we were just getting started…

Many, many married men will get up to no good while on business trips. Free of the rules and responsibilities of their home lives, they can enjoy whatever is on offer in the town or city they are visiting, without having to spend time being a good father to their children, nor tending to the whims of their not-so-adoring wives. Perhaps some will just enjoy a bit of time alone in their room with pay-per-view porn, while others hit the bars and get stinking drunk. Time will be spent at strip clubs and other seedy establishments, or maybe they will be wined and dined by their corporate hosts at the most elite of restaurants. Many travelling men are sure to commit acts of adultery, whether that involves paying for it or not. I am certain that there will be far fewer married men who do the things I get up to on my business trips, though I expect there are some. Men with these types of urges probably resort to picking a guy up in a bar, arranging a hook-up on an app, or paying for a hustler to visit their hotel room. There are probably a few who spend the night getting down and dirty in a cruising bar or club. But willingly, night after night, bending over with their arse pressed to a hole in the cubicle wall in some public toilets? No, on that front I think I’m probably in a very small minority. But that’s what I do, and I now know all the best spots to visit in the cities I travel to the most. You might even say I have developed something of a routine, from what I pack, where I stay, and managing my time well so that I can get enough sleep around my nighttime activities to not have my work suffer. But this particular trip was not to be routine, and I had planned it that way deliberately. My wife took so little interest in me these days that I knew I could get away with using a bit of annual leave between my Frankfurt and Berlin trips while spinning her a yarn about it being back-to-back deals. This would give me some time to enjoy the nocturnal opportunities in the German capital, without having to worry about being on form for work the next day. I even used some of the loyalty scheme points I’d built up to book different accommodation for that part of the trip, so that it could be truly separate from where I’d be on the working days and yet with no risk it would show up on my credit card bill. The other major difference this time was internal. Aside from the odd blip early on in these adventures, I had been secretly taking the necessary pills to allow me to receive loads without too much concern. Condoms had been a feature once, but those days were long over. However, a few weeks before this trip I had also ditched the pills. You see, I was knocking on the door of 50, and my youngest son had just started university. The need to hold the loose threads of my marriage together was gone, and I was sure my wife and I would be parting soon whatever happened. I mean, I was already pretty sure she was sleeping with her personal trainer, so she might be keen to wrap things up too now that we had done much of our duty as parents. I didn’t want to wait to get on with a new life for myself though, particularly as it was becoming an ever more challenging battle to keep my body as lean and toned as I wanted it, so I had decided to take some action to get to where I wanted to be. That involved one main goal: to be pozzed. It was something I had lusted after for years. Initially it was probably the allure of the risk, but as time passed I began to realise that I saw it as a form of freedom that I craved. Eventually I mentally connected it with being released from my marriage, and this led me to where I found myself in Berlin. Pressed up against a cubicle wall, a cigarette in my mouth, and my freshly brushed hole open and ready for whatever was coming my way. With a couple of event ads placed on the apps to encourage men to visit, alongside the normal pretty busy passing traffic, I was hopeful of several loads as well as maybe the first steps on my journey to conversion. By the time the fourth cock of the night was jackhammering in and out of me, I was completely high on the nicotine, poppers, and utter depravity of it all. I just loved being used and bred, and I was really getting off on the knowledge that there was nothing protecting me from anything the men breeding me were carrying. As yet no-one had let me know they were poz, but my imagination was filling in the blanks as I pictured the virus being pumped into me repeatedly. “You want poz?” I heard a man ask from outside the cubicle door, just as the fourth man slammed in a final time and blew his load. “Yes” I panted. “I not poz you here” the man outside the door said, with a thick German accent. “But you come to this place tomorrow at 5 o’clock and we will give you poz.” A note was shoved under the door, and then I heard his footsteps as he walked away. I was about to reach for the note when a fifth cock started pushing into me, and in the end it was three more loads before there seemed to be no more takers for a bit. I pulled myself up straight and stretched, then bent down to lift the note off the tiled floor. When I opened it up I saw an address written down, along with several bullet points all in German. Although I recognised some of the words, I could not decipher the rest so decided I would sort it out on Google Translate when I got back to my hotel. I folded the note back up and shoved it into the pocket of the jeans I had left on the toilet seat, before bending myself back over and pressing against the glory hole. I lit up another cigarette, and happily waited for the next cock. It was the early hours of the morning when I emerged from the shower at the hotel and slumped onto the bed. I reached for the note and phone sitting on the bedside table, and began to type out the text. I almost immediately sprung a hard-on when I read the translation: - Be at the address at 17:00. Do not be late. - You must be wearing a wide leather collar and wide leather cuffs. - You must be wearing rubber underpants with a hole in the back. - You must be wearing black leather boots. - We will not bring any lubrication or chemicals, so you must have your own if you want them. - You will not go home until the morning, and you will be infected. This was beyond my wildest dreams, and despite how tired I was from a long night of being anonymously gang bred, I immediately set about trying to find somewhere I could buy all the gear they wanted me to be wearing, seeing as I had nothing like any of it with me. Fortunately there seemed to be a few suitable shops close to each other, so I saved a few locations on the map app and then set an alarm so that I would have enough time to visit them, hopefully get what I needed, and then prepare for getting to the location. I also quickly booked a hire car to have for a couple of days, as I wasn’t sure about getting there by public transport or taxi given its remote location in an industrial estate on the edge of the city. Once everything was done that could be done at that time of the night, I plugged my phone into the power, turned off the light, and lay down for a happy night’s sleep in the afterglow of my most depraved night of sex yet. After a groggy start the next day, I successfully bought everything required from two of the shops, and then picked up the hire car and parked it at the hotel. I spent a bit of time showering and douching, before using a toothbrush on myself just to get prepared. I then donned the rubber boxers, admiring myself and my exposed crack in the mirror for a bit, and then pulled on the tracksuit trousers I had brought with me for exercising. The leather boots went on next, which looked a bit odd but I didn’t care. I then pulled on a tank top and a hoodie, deciding it was best to save the rest until I arrived. I put everything else I would need in my gym bag, along with some power bars, a couple of bottles of water, and some fresh clothes and a towel for the eventual journey back. Happy that I had all I would need, I headed down to the car park, had a quick cigarette, then got in and drove off to the address the map app was directing me to. When I arrived, I found I was in a deserted and largely derelict industrial area on the edges of East Berlin. There were notional fences around the various plots, but these had long since been partially torn down or holes ripped into them for access. It was the kind of place that you knew you probably shouldn’t be, which of course made it all the more appealing for me given the depths of depravity I was seeking to plumb on this trip. Many of my favourite piggy bareback pornos had been filmed in settings like this, and now I was possibly going to be getting a chance to act out the fantasy of those orgies and gangbangs for myself. I hopped out of the car, looked around a bit to make sure I was as alone as it seemed, and then finished off getting changed. I have to say, it was pretty thrilling to be stripping down to a near-naked state in late afternoon sunshine on a public street, even if it was apparently devoid of other people. Once done, I checked myself out in the reflection of the car window, loving how I looked with the massive padded leather collar I had bought and deciding there and then that this would be a regular part of my playtime outfit in future. The address I had been given noted a company name, and I could see an old sign on the plot next to where I had parked which matched that. I therefore walked to a gap in the fence of that plot, carefully climbed through, and then made my way across a large broken concrete lot until I reached the single building. There were a couple of service entrances which both had the shutters down, but I also saw a door that was open so headed for that. It led to a dark and smelly corridor, which I followed round a couple of corners until it opened onto what I guessed was once a factory floor. The roof on one side was gone so there was daylight flooding in, but it was in the shade over to the side that some movement caught my attention. A young Adonis was standing there, dressed just like I was. He had blond hair and tanned skin, and even at a distance and with him in the shade, I could tell he was absolutely ripped. I headed over to investigate, and he looked up as he saw me approaching. “Hi” he said, with a slight accent that suggested he might be Swedish. “Hi” I said. “Are you also here for…” He grinned at me, as I sort of swirled my hand in a nondescript way. “Yes, I am here for that” he replied, still smiling. “Cool” I said. “Are you married too?” he asked, surprising me a little. “Er, yeah” I replied, “though probably not for much longer.” He grinned again. “Me as well” he said. “I will get pozzed and then I can be with her brother.” I think my mouth dropped open when he said this, causing him to chuckle. “Her brother fucked me at the wedding, and all the time after” he said, smiling. “But he is poz and always has a condom.” “I see” I said. “And he won’t poz you?” “No” he replied, shaking his head. “So I have come here so I can be his.” I obviously did not know anything about the brother-in-law, but I was a little astounded that any man would deny a stunning young stud like this what he was looking for, especially if it meant you got to then be with him. Maybe it was some sort of family loyalty, though fucking your wife’s new husband on the day of their wedding did not seem to show much in the way of said loyalty. “Well” I said, starting to open one of the two packets of cigarettes I was carrying so I could have a smoke, “I hope you get what you came for today.” “You as well” he said, nodding when I offered him a cigarette from the packet. We both lit up our cigarettes and smoked in silence for a while. “Have you taken poz before?” he asked, just after we had both stubbed out our cigarettes on the floor. “Probably” I replied. “I got fucked a lot last night.” “That is hot” he said. “I hope my boyfriend will give me to other men to use once I am divorced.” “It’s a lot of fun” I said, smiling at him. Our conversation was interrupted by the sound of a steel door being opened on the other side of the factory floor, and we both turned and watched as five men emerged from some other part of the factory. All five were wearing leather boots, chaps and harnesses, and all had shaved heads with various forms of facial hair. Each of them was wearing a different combination of huge silver accessories, from neck chains to bracelets, or thick rings in their ears or noses. However, what stood out the most was the slightly wasted look each of them had, and all of them were adorned with biohazard tattoos on their chests or arms. I sprung an erection almost immediately. This is what I wanted, and some day I would seek to replicate their style, the absolutely immense neck chain and bracelet of one of the guys being a particular draw for me. The men approached us, and then stopped to look us up and down. They gestured for both of us to turn around so they could see our backs and arses, before we were each gently pushed forward to a raised concrete area in front of us where we were then encouraged to bend over. Almost immediately I felt the familiar scratch of a brush being pushed into my hole, but this may have been a new experience for the young Swedish hunk as he yelped and jolted forward. This did not dissuade the men though, and we were both soon being quite vigorously shafted by the brushes to get our holes nice and receptive. After a few minutes the brushes were removed, and immediately replaced by cocks. The fucking was hard and rough from the outset, but I was sufficiently experienced and stretched that it just felt incredible from the get-go. Again, however, my Swedish friend seemed to be struggling with it a bit, probably because his brother-in-law normally went easier on him. However, after a lot of pained panting and groaning, he eventually relaxed and took the fucking. They did a round robin on us for a while, none of them actually reaching the point of breeding, before the fucking stopped and they went back to brushing our holes again for a few moments. I could tell this was to make sure we were really raw now that they were getting close, and sure enough the brush in my hole was quickly replaced by a cock that was slammed in right as the guy roared out. I revelled in feeling him shoot his toxic load into me, and my Swedish partner in crime was even more vocal in his enjoyment of receiving the same treatment. No sooner had the two tops come down off their ejaculations and withdrawn, before the next pair of tops slammed into us and delivered their venom. “Ene mene mu und raus bist du” the last of the men said slowly while standing behind us, clearly making a decision on which of us was going to receive a third load. I was a little disappointed when he rammed into the Swede. Once he was done, the pair of us were pulled up from our bent over positions and walked over to a part of the factory floor where there was a large drain. “On knees!” one of the tops barked, and we both hurriedly got down onto the floor. I knew what was coming, and while I had never actually engaged in watersports, I had seen enough porn to know I should assume a certain position and open my mouth. “You!” barked one of the other men at the Swede, “do same!” All five of them then began to piss on us, whether that was in our mouths, on top of our heads, or elsewhere on our bodies. I heard the Swede gag choke a couple of times, but I was fine and actually realised why men got into this so much. When they were done, they walked away from us towards the door they had first emerged from. “You shower!” barked one of them before he went through the door, pointing at another door over to the side. “Then we come back.” We both hauled ourselves off the floor once they’d left the room, and made our way over to the doorway. Inside was a dark tiled bathroom, and even though the only light was what was coming through the open door from the factory floor, I could see that it was filthy. However, when the Swede went over to a visible shower head and turned the tap underneath, water did indeed start to flow out of it. “It’s cold” he said. “Then we better be quick” I replied. Each of us took a turn washing all the piss off our skin under the freezing cold stream, not removing any of our gear given that had also been soaked by the men. Once done, we headed to the part of the factory where the roof was gone so we could try to dry off and warm up in the small amount of sunshine that was still making it into that space, though I made a quick dash over to get my cigarettes first. “That was fun” said the Swede, exhaling a plume of smoke. “Sure was” I said. “How long do you think they’ll keep fucking us?” he asked. “The whole night hopefully” I said, giving him a wink. “Better chance of it taking with multiple loads.” The Swede nodded and smiled at that, but said nothing more. We therefore just smoked in silence, pondering what lay in store for us once the men were ready again. I couldn’t wait…

My company had recently won an important contract in Mexico, and as the only analyst who spoke Spanish (thanks to my mother being from Seville), I had been sent to oversee the setup of the new operation. My partner was not best pleased that I was going to be gone for eight weeks, but the large bonus I was to receive was certainly going to help with filling up the pot we were setting aside for trying to have kids through a surrogate in the future, so we both knew that I had to accept. As such, after a comfortable flight over in business class, I was now set up in an aparthotel that would act as my base for the trip. The first few days were hectic, but as things calmed down and the new operation found its feet, I could afford to take a bit of a step back. This gave me the opportunity to see a bit of the city and its surroundings, while also hunting for gifts to take back to appease my partner for the prolonged absence. Top of my personal to-do list was a trip out to see some lesser-known pyramids, which I had heard were much less touristy than Teotihuacán and could be visited round the clock. I decided a couple of nights in a nearby basic hotel would be sensible as I was keen to see both sunrise and sunset at the archeological site, so I made a plan to head out there after finishing a bit early on the Friday and then come back to the city on the Sunday. Sure enough, pre-dawn on the Saturday my alarm went off, and after splashing some water on my face, filling my thermos with coffee from the room and donning some clothes, I headed out into the darkness. I had rented a bike to explore the site myself, so with the headlight on bright, I rode off up the semi-paved track away from the hotel. Little was I to know I would not actually get to watch the sunrise as planned. I managed to find my way to the site, although I could not yet make out any actual pyramids in the darkness. I chained up the bike, grabbed my flashlight and then set off up the path leading from the entrance gate. I figured I would find somewhere to sit and drink some coffee while I waited for there to be enough light in the sky to help me work out where to position myself for the actual sunrise. Eventually I found a sort of shelter, the purpose of which was not clear to me in the gloom, but it had a bench in it that I could sit down on to wait. However, as soon as I did so I felt a wave of tiredness come over me, and having got to the site quicker than expected, I decided I could risk leaning against the back and side of the shelter to rest my eyes for a bit. I set an alarm on my phone for half an hour, closed my eyes, and soon drifted off. I was not woken by my alarm, but rather by the sudden jolt of being pulled forward off the bench. It was still fairly dark but I could just make out that there were several figures there, and I knew immediately I was in trouble. At least two men were hauling me out of the shelter by my arms, and of course I shouted and tried to resist once my fight-or-flight response kicked in. At this point my arms were pulled behind me while a bandana or something was pulled around my mouth. Despite my best efforts my assailants quickly had me muted, my arms tied behind me, and then they pushed me to the ground and did the same to my ankles. I was then lifted up by several men and carried away from the shelter, heading for godknowswhere. At this point I was sure I was being kidnapped. After being carried in the dark for a few moments, I was placed down on my front on a flat-topped rock. Before I could squirm or do anything to try to free myself, I was held firmly in place while the men untied my ankles, spread them, and then re-secured them apart to something before ripping open the back of my shorts and underwear. The rope tying my wrists together was also secured down to something, so that I was prone over the rock. Then, almost immediately, I felt a hard pressure at my anus, and started to scream out as much as I could over the gag as I was penetrated. Maybe these men were indeed kidnapping me, but I was to be used first, that was for sure. The initial entry was excruciating, especially as I rarely bottomed for my partner, but eventually whichever of the men it was had buried himself in me fully. He then started a rough pounding of my hole, my gagged screams seemingly not bothering any of them. The first guy fucked me brutally for a while, then roared out and jammed himself into me fully. I knew I was being bred. He then pulled out and was replaced by another, and the whole ordeal began again. They all took at least one turn, my screams seeming to fade into submission in time with the sun rising and light bathing the ruins around us. Not that I got to see much of that, as any time I looked up to try to see who was doing this to me I was struck in the face by one of the men. When they all seemed to be done, a blindfold was tied around my eyes, my ankles were released but then rapidly secured back together, and then I was roughly pulled up off the rock and up into the air again. I was carried to somewhere for a few minutes, and then heard what sounded like a metal door being opened. Moments later I was dropped down onto a hard surface on my back, my wrists were untied from each other, pulled apart and secured somehow. My ankles got the same treatment, and then I heard all the men leaving and the door being closed again. I had no choice but to lie there on my back, unable to see a thing, trussed up like godknowswhat, my mouth still gagged, my used and sore hole continuing to leak, and wonder what was in store for me. Over the course of however many hours it was, men seemed to take turns to visit the increasingly hot room I was in, all of them unceremoniously ramming into my hole and fucking another load into me. What was really surprising was that I realised I was getting just a little bit excited each time I heard the door open as someone else arrived, which was crazy given the peril I was in and the reality of what was happening to me. But yes, truth be told, I was starting to want there to be someone there fucking me rather than being left alone. Another change of location came later, when a number of men seemed to come into the room together and begin working together to release me from whatever I was tied to, re-secure my wrists and ankles together, and then lift me up and carry me out. Once again I was manually carried for some time, until we reached whatever the chosen venue was now for all this to continue. I had no fight left in me, so when I was put down on my feet I dutifully allowed my ankles to be separated and secured apart to something, before I was bent forward over what felt like a rock. I propped myself up on my elbows, and this perhaps gave them an indication that they had broken me as a moment later my gag and blindfold were taken off. I blinked and got my eyes used to the light, taking in that we were back in the trees around the ruins, but I did not look around at the men. I stared straight ahead of me, just waiting. A cock was pressed back into me, and I gave a slight moan as, despite the use and abuse I had experienced and how sore my hole was by this point, there was still a definite sense of what I can only call relief at being filled again. I took the fuck without complaint, and actually squeezed around his cock as he slammed in a final time and unloaded in me. I did the same as all the other men followed suit, never once turning my head to see who these guys were. Somewhere in the corner of my mind, voices were screaming at me to try to stop this, to try to remember that I’m partnered up and planning to have a family, and that this was a repeated act of violence being perpetrated on me, but by this point a deeper, perhaps long-repressed version of me had emerged. I had gone into something of a trance I suppose, but was broken out of that when one of the men suddenly appeared next to me, also bent over the rock. I turned to look at him as I was being fucked, noticing he couldn’t have been more than 25, and watched as he grimaced through his own penetration. He did not utter a sound throughout though, and when the man behind him slammed in a final time and then withdrew, the younger guy just stood up and disappeared out of my field of view. A moment later a stocky older man with a bushy moustache took his place and was also fucked by one of the others, all while the rest of them continued to use me. The light faded as my gangbang continued, with several of the men having also taken a turn bent over on the rock next to me. I concluded this must be a gang or something, but did not know if they all got fucked or if there was some kind of hierarchy within the group. I found myself wondering how many other men had experienced what I was going through, and whether it was just tourists they targeted. I also didn’t know whether I was still going to be kidnapped and held for ransom, but I was starting to think that maybe that wasn’t going to be the case. Perhaps they would finally expend their sexual energies, and then dispose of me to become just the latest in a long list of Westerners who had disappeared without trace, or maybe I was going to be set free after all this. I got my answer long after it had got dark, when the blindfold was suddenly put back on me and I was re-gagged while the last of them finished off inside me. I was then hauled off the rock and quickly re-tied at the wrists and ankles, before being lifted up by several hands and carried off. It seemed like ages, but eventually I was unceremoniously dumped on the ground. I felt the restraints at my wrists being loosened, and then the sound of all the men running away. When it had gone quiet I managed to get my blindfold off with my still-tied hands, realising I was back at the shelter where this had all started. There was some dim light from a nearby lamp, so I could just about make out what I was doing as I wiggled my hands and used my teeth to finally get one wrist free, making it possible to get the gag out of my mouth and then untie the rest of the binds. I was free, and the men were long gone. The bike was still there at the end of the path, and miraculously the torn shorts I was wearing still had everything I had set out with in the pockets, so I was able unchain the bike to cycle back. I had to do the whole thing standing up on the peddles as I was too sore to sit on the saddle, and closer to my hotel I wore out and got off to walk the bike the rest of the way. When I got back, the old man at the reception desk nodded to me as I staggered in, and I detected a smirk as I glanced back at him before starting the climb up the stairs. Did he know? Had he been part of this somehow? Was he possibly even one of the gang that had spent the day fucking me? Or was he just amused by the state I was in? I managed a shower, gently probing around my gaping, abused hole a bit to feel the damage, before collapsing into the bed and passing out. I had feverish dreams all night, waking in a sweat more than once, and was therefore very slow to get going the next morning. An older lady was at the reception when I checked out, but once again I just had a sense that she knew something. What had I got into by coming here? It was a relief when I got back to the city and returned the car to the hire place around the corner from my aparthotel. I slept a little more soundly in my temporary home, and the next day started the process of trying to act normally as I got back on with work. However, as the days of that week went on, a nagging desire got stronger and stronger. I couldn’t deny it as hard as I tried: I wanted to be fucked again, and I wanted it to be anonymous and raw. All it took was a couple of beers with colleagues after work on the Friday, and my inhibitions had been sufficiently lowered to do something about my predicament. That night, and for so many more during my remaining time in Mexico, I was to be found bent over in a cruise club taking whatever came my way. Three days after I got home, I woke up with a fever. My partner tended to me through the delirium that followed, and sat by my side in the doctor’s office a week later as I was given the news that I had tested positive. He saved his rage until we were back home, refusing to believe that any version of what I told him was true. He was acting out of fury as he threw accusations my way, and yet everything he was saying did actually now ring true in some way. I had been subjected to what was undoubtedly a prolonged sexual assault, and yet it had awoken something in me that I knew I could not suppress again. I felt strangely liberated, even as my partner’s vitriol went from strength to strength, and found myself zoning out and starting to wonder if my pozzing had been at the hands of the gang or one of the many anonymous hook-ups in the clubs of Mexico City. Jump forward to today, and my career has actually advanced significantly since the success of the Mexican operation’s commencement. My partner of course kicked me out, and in his anger and betrayal he made sure our friends and families knew the truth about me. That set forth something of a mass desertion by people I thought I had been close to, but now that I am without the same social responsibilities to occupy most of my weekends and evenings, I am free to live my new life. That life involves cock. Any cock. All cocks. There isn’t one I won’t ride, and no load I won’t take. Hook-ups at home or a guy’s place, clubs, saunas, public toilets, alleyways, parks, beaches… Anywhere, anytime, you can find me and my biohazard tramp stamp swallowing up as many loads as possible. I’m 45, apparently handsome, in the best shape of my life, and a proud poz cumdump. But what excites me most is that I’m being sent back to Mexico to oversee the rollout of our latest system upgrade in the office there. I’ve already secured some time off during my stay, and I know just where I’ll be aiming to spend it…

Jason did return quite regularly after that, and seemed to come out of his shell a bit more with us as he got more used to feeling like what he was doing was OK. It was maybe the fourth or fifth visit to ours that he actually decided to stick around for a bit to have a drink and talk after we’d fucked, and the eighth visit was when we first managed to get him to undress again for a second round before staying the night in one of the guest bedrooms. We tested his boundaries a little more with each visit, and discovered that he seemed to respond well to a bit of domination. We took things slowly on that front, starting with strapping him onto the bench, then into the sling, and eventually into a set of stocks that Stone ordered to add to the playroom equipment (which of course we had ‘christened’ with me being put into them first before Stone invited the whole neighbourhood round to join in). However, we also got him to start practicing as a versatile performer, mixing up what we did to him with the occasional topping role, usually with me as the bottom but also a couple of times with Stone. He was certainly a very eager student. We weren’t really sure what was happening with him outside of his visits to our place, but one day he decided to talk about it with us over some post-fucking drinks and cigarettes. Evidently the studio had not responded well to his arrest, so despite the charges being dropped they had let quietly him go from his contract. However, one of the execs had put him onto a friend of his, and Jason had started working with him. These were all-black orgy films shot with a single camera around the guy’s house, and Jason always wore a hood as he took up position on his front or back to get fucked and bred by the various tops and versatile performers also on set. He showed us one of the films that had been released onto that studio’s website, and what surprised us the most was that it was so obviously him, given he wore no top so his distinctive tattoos were on full view, and he hadn’t even taken off his trademark gold Cubans. We decided not to say anything about this though, and once he was gone we had looked through all of the videos he had done with this new outfit. Despite him clearly getting other action now, he carried on visiting us on a pretty regular basis. On one occasion we decided to take things up a notch or two by ‘forgetting’ that we had invited Frank and Bram over to play, and when they entered the playroom through the side door Jason looked a bit like a deer in headlights. Credit to him though, because after only a brief moment of looking like he was about to freak out, he relaxed and went with the flow. Loads were taken by all that night, though Jason’s hole was obviously the main focus. Thereafter we brought Frank, Bram and some other friends in on the play every now and then. Jason did eventually get sick, and Stone and I took it in turns to be at his place looking after him while he converted. He seemed to understand what had happened, and didn’t react too badly when we took him to a clinic and the result was confirmed. He eventually told us that his prep supply had indeed ended when his contract was terminated, but by then he wasn’t able to turn off his need to be bred despite no longer being protected. He had not been actively chasing, but nor did he do anything to reduce the risk of infection and had kind of known it was inevitable. He told us he knew we must be poz because of working with Scorpex, and that he knew he could also maybe just start seeking what he needed from neg or undetectable guys, but somehow had just wanted to keep coming to our playroom. He genuinely seemed OK with it, although we suspected he might need a bit of support as the reality dawned on him so we kept an eye out. In the meantime we decided to introduce him to Scorpex, and it turned out they had been enamoured with the hooded blinged-up bottom appearing in the orgy films but had somehow failed to make the connection. Jason was soon signed up for a contract as a versatile performer, giving him access to healthcare insurance so he could go on meds and, in time, get some support when he did start to freak out a bit about his new status. He has become a popular performer with Scorpex, and Stone and I got to appear with him when the execs wanted him to be dominated for a shoot and he had said he would only do that with us. Interestingly, Jason has settled into a sort of middle ground in life, having started out as a straight man performing only as a top, becoming a needy hungry bottom with us, but now happily able to talk about his bisexuality. He actually has a girlfriend, a poz dancer he met through a support group, but she is relaxed about his work and also the need to satisfy other urges to keep him happy. As such, while no longer as frequent as it was for a while, he still comes over every now and then to play. Seeing Jason find a bit of peace and happiness with himself has spurred me on too. Stone and I are about to go away to a cabin in Colorado for a little break, and I have decided to take the plunge. He and I are perfect together, and when I find the right place and time up in the mountains, I shall be getting down on one knee. Wish me luck! THE END

I sighed and put my iPad down on the coffee table in front of me. “Babe” I called out, “come take a break before you make yourself crazy.” A few moments later Stone slouched into the room, looking thoroughly pissed. “I don’t get it” he said. “Can’t people just hit the Back button and move on to something they do like? It’s not like I’m getting paid to do any of this, or trying to get famous from it. I mean, my stuff is out there for people to enjoy for free, so why the need to be negative if they would prefer something else?” “I know” I replied, “but I did warn you about reading the comments.” “Yeah” he grumbled, as he sat down next to me and I put my hand on his leg. “But I want to see what people who do actually like my sort of stuff have to say in case it gives me some more ideas or helps me to make the songs better. I spend time doing this stuff in a way I enjoy myself, and I like talking to other people who have similar tastes.” Stone had recently decided to start posting music he had been making, which was a mix of his own songs and covers of others, delivered in a very different way to the originals. His videos were of him performing live, but he obscured most of his face and applied a black-and-white filter to avoid getting recognised. He had no plans to try to make something out of it, and was just doing it in his spare time for his own enjoyment and to hopefully entertain a few others. He was, however, leaning the hard way about what the internet was really like. “Listen” I said, “how about we have a bit of fun to work off your frustrations, and see if maybe that stirs up some more positive thoughts for you?” “Oh yeah?” he asked, turning to me with a smirk. “Would this ‘fun’ involve me pounding you into next week by any chance?” “I’d definitely be up for that” I chuckled, “but I was thinking more of following up on a lead I’ve had.” “A lead?” he asked, looking quizzically at me. “Jason” I said. “Found out a bit more about what happened, and where we might find him.” “Well, that does sound promising” Stone said. “But unless we’re gonna find him waiting outside right this minute, I think we might have to go with my idea first.” I laughed out loud, but also knew he wasn’t joking so duly got off the couch and started to pull down my shorts. Mere moments later I was bent over the dining table with the man I loved working out the frustrations of his evening in my hole. Once we’d recovered from the rather frenetic fuck, we got cleaned up and then headed out. Having been kicked out of the apartment he had shared with his now ex-girlfriend, Jason was temporarily staying with a mutual friend who had got curious about his nighttime absences and had thus followed him out one evening. Unbeknownst to Jason, this mutual friend was quite into what Stone and I had been doing, so had let me know what he had found out and promised to message me when his new housemate went out. Such a message had arrived just as Stone was erupting inside of me, and we were now en route to the park he had told us about. After parking nearby we split up to look around, keeping our phones to hand to quickly message each other. There were a few guys hanging around who seemed like they might be cruising, but others who I thought were probably seeking or selling drugs, making it far more likely the police would be nearby. ME: Keep an eye out and be ready to run. Drugs. STONE: OK. Fortunately it was just a minute after sending that message that I caught sight of Jason, standing by a tree looking at his phone. He seemed to hear me approach as he put it away, stuck his hands in his pockets and looked up to see what was going on, his expression changing the instant I came into a pool of light from on of the few dim lamps around the place. “Greg” he muttered. “What the fuck man?” “Hey Jason” I said. “Been a while.” “Get out of here” he growled. “No fucking way” I replied. “Not without getting you out of here too.” “Who sent you?” he asked, glowering at me. “No-one” I half-lied, “but I heard what went down and we want to help you.” “We?” he said, pulling his hands out his pockets and balling his fists. “I’m here with Stone” I said. “What the fuck” he whispered. “Why don’t you come with us and we’ll talk about it?” I said. “Before the police get here again.” He glared at me, but eventually nodded as he pushed himself off the tree he had been leaning against. I started walking back in the general direction of the car, typing out a quick message to Stone so he’d meet us there. None of us said a thing as we got to the car, Jason climbing in the back while we got in the front. After watching a darkened patrol car glide past us towards the park we had just left, I quickly pulled out and set off, doing some cursory checks to make sure we weren’t being followed, particularly as I didn’t know if Jason had anything on him that could be a problem if we were pulled over. Once I could see we were clear, I decided not to freak him out too much by taking him to ours and instead headed to a bar we knew that afforded its patrons with high-sided booths and plenty of privacy. Jason said nothing as we entered, so I got him the same rum and coke I remembered him drinking on set back in the day, while opting for plain cokes for me and Stone. “What happened man?” I asked Jason, once we’d been sat in a booth in silence for a bit. “Nothing happened” he quietly replied, staring at his drink. “I wasn’t doing nothing, had all my clothes on, had no drugs, no cash, so they had to drop the charges.” “You got lucky” Stone said. “Fuck off” he snapped, before letting out a deep breath and continuing in a softer tone. “Sorry man. Yeah, I know I got lucky.” “So what were you doing there?” I asked. Jason said nothing for a while, but we gave him time to gather his thoughts. Then, with a lot of initial hesitation, he started to tell us the story. His girlfriend, a performer herself, had wanted to spice things up a bit and had arranged for another of her female co-stars to join them for a threesome. Then after that it was a different female co-star, and then a third. But one night it was another man she had brought to their bed, who Jason knew worked on hetero, bi and gay films. The sex had all been about her, but then she had invited the same man back again and started taking things in a different direction. Jason was of course well used to fucking men on-camera so had not had any real issues at first, but it was once his girlfriend was asleep and the rum had continued flowing that the ante was upped. His girlfriend woke up to find him on his hands and knees losing his anal virginity. Thereafter it had solely been other men she had brought to their bed, and Jason had to get used to her expectations to see him bottoming. However, she had suddenly lost interest in all this and had stopped inviting anyone else into their sex life, cutting him off from something he had really started to get into even if he wasn’t ready to admit that out loud. The trips to the park had started initially when he was drunk and his inhibitions lowered, but he eventually began seeking out that release even when sober. He dressed it up as a new exercise regime that involved an intense nighttime run before bed, and seemed to get away with it at first. However, he had not known that his girlfriend was starting to suspect what he was up to, not least because he was no longer performing as well in the bedroom with her, so when he was arrested in a sting and had needed her to bail him out, the writing was on the wall for their relationship. He was out on the street the next day. “You know” I said, “you don’t need to go looking for it in such a risky way, particularly when there’s other illegal things going down that attract the cops.” “Yeah” Jason mumbled. “We could help if you want” said Stone. “Give you somewhere to explore that side of yourself, where you don’t have to worry about it getting out.” “Plus, you know, we’ve both been on the same journey” I offered. Jason looked up at me, and fixed me with a stare for a while before speaking. “Do you think I’m gay?” he asked. “Doesn’t matter what I think” I said, “nor does it matter if you are or not. You just know now that it feels good, and you should be able to do something about that in private.” He carried on staring at me, before nodding and looking back down at his drink. “OK” he said. He swirled his finger round his glass, before picking it up and gulping down the contents. He slammed the glass back on the table, and then fixed Stone with a look. “Show me” he said, before sliding along the bench and out of the booth. Stone and I left our drinks on the table, and followed Jason out of the bar. He had some jumpy energy about him, so I pulled my cigarettes out of my pocket and offered him one. Once we had all lit up, I delicately probed a little further just to see what Jason would be most comfortable with, including whether or not it was actually us he wanted to explore with or if he just wanted our help. By the time we were stubbing out the cigarettes we had settled on him coming back to ours, so we got back into the car and drove home in silence. Jason didn’t seem to want to delay things with another drink, so we ushered him down to the playroom where he quickly stripped down to his jock. However, the big surprise came as Stone and I were getting naked, when Jason reached behind himself and delicately pulled a lubed plug out of his hole. Knowing this meant we could just get down to business, we urged him to get down on the bench so he could be comfortable, before Stone took up position and starting gently rubbing Jason’s hole with his cock. “Do it” Jason growled, ever so slightly pushing back. Stone looked up at me and winked, then focused on the inviting hole in front of him. He started pushing his girthy dry cock into Jason, content that no condom had been offered or requested, and assuming that there was already enough lubrication in there based on how wet the plug had been. Jason softly moaned as Stone slowly but firmly pushed into him in one go. My boyfriend held in position for a moment, and then began his thrusts which gradually got faster and deeper. Even with his head down on the bench, it was clear that Jason was loving it, arching his back like a seasoned bottom and letting Stone take full control of the pounding. It was so hot to watch, Jason’s toned body and tight buns seeming to just scream “bottom” now that I was seeing him in this position rather than hammering away as a vigorous top. I guess that our earlier rut had taken the edge off for Stone a bit, as he was showing incredible stamina while he pounded away. I decided to mix things up a bit while I waited my turn, so went over to stand next to Jason’s head to just see what happened. It took him a while to realise I was there, but when he did he propped himself up a bit and stared at the hard cock right in front of him while his body rocked back and forth. I stepped forward just a bit more to put it in range, and he stretched out a little and took the tip into his mouth. I let him have just that for a couple of minutes, before shuffling forward a little more to effectively force my cock deeper into his mouth towards his throat. He gagged a little, but didn’t pull off so I just went the whole hog and pushed until he’d swallowed it all. He was audibly snorting as he got used to what I suspected was his first spit-roast, but credit where it’s due, he never gave off any vibe of wanting either of us to pull out of him. Stone eventually started to reach orgasm, speeding up his pounding to a frantic pace until he slammed into Jason and held position while he unloaded. His breathing was ragged, and it took him quite some time to calm down and pull out. He staggered back and slumped down on a chair at the side of the room, giving me my cue that it was time to take over. I pulled my cock out of Jason’s throat, and quickly repositioned myself behind him and slid into his cummy hole. I was already pretty heated, so picked up where Stone had left off with a rapid and energetic fucking, Jason responding by moaning and panting his desire for me to keep going. I didn’t last long though, and soon was spurting another load into our former co-star. I collapsed on the floor next to Stone, and we sat breathing heavily as we watched Jason just remain in position on all fours with cum leaking out of his gaping hole. After a couple of minutes he lifted himself up onto his knees, and reached behind to lightly finger and explore his hole. He then brought his fingers to his mouth, taking a taste of some of the deposits we’d left back there. I could only see a bit of the side of his face, but I thought I detected what could be a small smile breaking out on his face for a brief moment, before he then slid himself back and got off the bench. He went over to his clothes and started to get dressed, only turning to face us once he was fully clothed again. “Thanks” he said. “No problem” I replied. “You’re always welcome if you need more.” He nodded at me, and then in a flash was gone up the stairs and out of the house. Stone and I remained sitting for a bit, before hauling ourselves up and off to the shower. “He’s probably on prep” Stone said, as I climbed into bed next to him a while later. “I know” I said, “and honestly I’m happy just to help him get comfortable with being versatile if that’s all this turns out to be.” “Me too” said Stone, smiling. “He is hot as fuck, and clearly meant to bottom.” “Amen to that” I replied, sliding down and putting my arm across Stone’s chest. “It’ll be fun to watch him realise that for himself.” With that, we both gradually drifted off to sleep, safe and comfortable in each other’s arms…