verbalBTTM

Please write a story about it, I'd love to read how filthy your mind is at that time.

Was it the sex with the guy because he was Poz, or was it the risk factor the part that did it for you. (crossing a line you can't come back from) I'm asking since I've heard similar things before from other people that I've spoken to in person. Thank you for being honest with me, I'm utterly fascinated by this

If you don't mind me asking, what changed for you mentally that is?

Just sounds painful to me, but maybe I'll find someone like your ex did. Finding a pro who truly knows his craft isn't easy to come by, even in this town.

Exactly, plus you still have a few of those sleazy video places left a few blocks away. Cops never go in there, they already know the score.

Penn Station is pretty much a homeless shelter, and not very safe these days. Unfortunately it's one of the few places the hot guys from long Island insist on hooking up while waiting for their trains home. There was this North Carolina BBQ joint that was across the street that had a ton of action going on. Nothing better than a beer and a BJ. Unfortunately that place closed during Covid

Challenge accepted, just remember I warned you.

I might have to create a series chronicling my youthful adventures. Perhaps a "Confessions" section should be added for some of the things I've done. Lord knows I have stories for days, and I recall it all with extreme clarity. Some far less PC than this little tidbit.

So I should stop being a bitch and embrace the pain

Maybe as we mature our tastes as well as our bodies do as well.

Without getting lost in the weeds here, let's just face some cold hard truths. Condoms suck, raw sex is awesome, and breeding a guy completes the act. Without the fluid exchange, sex has the same quality as jerking off, except I have to exert myself for less feeling in my cock.

Back in the summer of 2003, my dad underwent knee reconstruction surgery—titanium implants and all—so I relocated back to New Jersey to lend a hand during his recovery. One Monday evening, I hit up Feather's in Hackensack, their legendary big night, and locked eyes with this adorable, soft-bodied blond Irish boy from across the upstairs bar. We shared a few intense kisses before heading to his place in East Rutherford: one of those generic, two-story strip habitats built with parking lots in mind. We tumbled inside, where his roommate was ostensibly crashed out on the couch. Things escalated quickly—clothes flying off, slamming to the floor in a frenzy. True to form (and as my moniker suggests), I wasn't holding back with my tongue, slapping him sharply and ordering him to his knees. His choking gasps must've roused the roommate, because I noticed his eyes reflecting the moonlight, squarely fixed on us. Midway through, I mentioned needing the bathroom. The guy stood up, bent over with a sly glance back, and whispered, "Just piss in my ass." Intrigued and aiming to be an accommodating guest I obliged. The pressure against my still-hard cock was intense, but either he'd misjudged my beer intake or was just that eager of a slut—probably both. He couldn't contain it; piss cascaded down our legs in a warm flood. I cut off the stream as I withdrew, and he swiftly tossed a towel down before guiding me to the bathroom. There, he dropped to his knees again and urged, “piss in my mouth." Gripping the back of his head, I thrust deep into his throat and let loose, listening to those rhythmic gulps as he swallowed every drop like a good boy. We returned to the main room, where I took him on the floor in position three in my playbook—slapping him relentlessly and hurling every filthy name imaginable until I buried myself balls-deep, breeding him with my signature shudder, shaking my cock off inside his fuck hole for every last drop.

Guess they needed someone to kick things off

Dude you had me at "leak a river of precum". I'd just get on my knees, look straight into your eyes as I nurse myself on your cock. Feeding myself like a hungry infant while twerking your nipples, just to extract as much from you as possible. Feed me poppers and talk dirty to unlock me for more degenerate behavior, yes I can go there. Nothing hotter than a cock just pumping out fluid into a hungry fag mouth. Obedience to CUM is life

I was about 23 when a sub buddy of mine invited me to this sex party called GBU in Brooklyn. He hyped it up with promises of unlimited free beer for just a $20 entry fee—a total bargain in NYC. The guy was always skittish, the type who needed a wingman for everything. I rolled up decked out in my bondage chest harness, fully expecting the vibe to match—and unfortunately it didn’t. The crowd was mostly these polished twink guys strutting in pricey designer jocks, nursing their drinks like they were too precious to get messy. The actual action was nonexistent, which started grinding my gears. I was about 2 beers into the night as my friend finally shows, buzzing with excitement. He grabs me another beer, urging me to chug the rest of mine. Obliging, I ask him where the bathroom is. With this devious smirk, he says, "Follow me," and guides me to a spot on the floor. He drops down to his knees and starts sucking my cock. I'm all for a good BJ, no complaints. However he sees me starting to do the pee pee dance, and says "Just piss in my mouth." Unfamiliar with any protocol in this scene, I revert to my natural state. So I grab his hair with one hand, slap his face with the other, and start pissing all over his face while saying in a deep commanding voice, "You fucking disgusting faggot, drink my piss like the bitch you know you are." Apparently, I must have spoken the secret phrase because the next thing I know, three other guys instantly join me in drenching my friend in their piss. I'm fucking his mouth with my balls slapping against his chin as my beer-piss pours out of his mouth and down his shaved chest. He looks up at me with some other guys piss pouring all over his face, and there it was—the look of pure bliss. After a few years of knowing him, he finally admitted to himself what kind of a faggot he really was. As I kept verbally degrading him, I force him to turn around and shove my cock up his scrawny, hairy ass while a few other guys start to drench him as well. I command him to thank them for their generosity while making him admit what a filthy faggot he is. Over and over again, he admits to a small room of guys what a filthy faggot he is as I clap and slap his cheeks red, ensuring his submission is complete. As I make him beg for my load pounding the shit out of him, I eventually cum in his ass and then force him to the floor while keeping my foot on his chest. Saying, "A faggot like you gets up when I tell you to get up," then I spit in his face as I command some twink to fetch me another beer. I keep him there on the floor with his body covering the drain, making him turn his head and lick it up. This goes on for a while until he finally has to go himself. As he starts to leak, I kneel down, grab his cock, and make him piss all over himself while commanding him to drink. Again, my verbal charms electrify the room further as other guys drain their bladders all over him. Afterwards, he thanks me for giving him exactly what he needed, knowing his dirty secret will be safe with me.

I've tried that for almost 20 years now, I have a little sensitivity once in a blue moon but nothing like those guys. I put a whole nipple play kit together for those special boys. Snake bit kit, clamps with a weight set, and these suction things that look like breast milkers. I've tried it all on myself and have failed thus far. I also refuse to shave my chest so getting a good seal around my nipples is impossible and twisting just hurts. Maybe I'm just a little bitch about the pain, and need a Dom to make me go through the it to get to the pleasure. I've also been told that as I get older that might change, but it's been decades now so not really seeing that in the cards. thanks for the advise though