breedmypiggycunt

I have to commend you on that story, @MackyJay. It was sensational. I’ve been reading it as hard as a rock.

I’m not sure cum itself is an anti-depressant although it’d no doubt be good for you given it’s mostly protein and the like. The ‘high’ you experience is the same you’d experience from all sexual and physical activity. Dopamine is released in the brain.

That really is an incredibly hot story. But it’s been made even hotter for me because I read it aloud to a young bloke by the name of Zane who’s with me at the moment. Zane’s visited me yesterday because I gave him some gear a couple of days ago and he wanted to know if I could give him some more. The first words he said to me when he walked in the door was, “I said I was going to do anything to earn more gear. You want to fuck me? I want to get totally fucked up with you and then you’re going to fuck me. As I was reading your story to Zane, he eased himself back onto my dick. That’s how horny hearing your story of Tanner losing his arse virginity and getting slammed for the first time given he heard it the day after he’s had both his first, second and third slam and been fucked for the first time too. Even as Zane was fucking himself on my dick while I was reading it to him, he asked me “did you poz me as well?” and seemed a little disappointed when I said that I don’t have HIV to give it to him. You know what his response to that was? “I wouldn’t care if you had. Getting slammed and fucked was the greatest thing ever.”

I certainly do. There are periods where I can take sex or leave it but there are other times when I’ll literally do anything to get cock.

He’s out the front. If I was in any doubt about how far he was prepared to go today, his last message said: “Just so you know: I want you to give me the strongest slam I can take and then you’re going to fuck me. I’m yours all day. I want you to chain me to your bed and fuck me all day and all night. I want to know what it’s like to be your bitch. I’ve prepared two syringes; one with 5 points and one with 2.5. I think I’ll start him off by sharing the 2.5 and pound him as hard as I can. This will be fun. And, yes, I’m recording this one. It’ll be on porn hub later tonight.

Received an SMS about an hour ago asking if he, Zane (it turns out his dad was saying ‘Zane’ not ‘Shane’) could come to my place. Had an argument with his girlfriend and wants to “earn more gear”; his words. He said he’d like to spend the day with me and even hinted that he’s up to try anything. Already asked him if he minded me slamming; he asked what it’s like and, after I described it to him, he wants to try getting slammed. I’ll show him some vids of guys getting slammed and fucked for the first time; hopefully that’ll persuade him to let me fuck him while he’s rushing. Of course, I couldn’t respond quickly enough. He’s on his way. I’m REALLY looking forward to this. I know I’m going to take his cock and I am absolutely going to flip him over and try easing my cock inside his boy cvnt. If he lets me fuck him from there, I’ll be ecstatic. I love popping cherries, especially straight ones.

I’m not a fan of my own body odour but I do love other guy’s smelling au naturale. My boyfriend doesn’t use colognes except when he’s going out - he loves my extensive collection of expensive colognes 😂- and I’m loving the variety. When he’s unshowered and scruffy, I can’t resist his pits and his butt especially. In fact, he’s one guy I almost prefer doesn’t douche when we’re making love. But, equally, I love it when he’s looking young and sophisticated and smells beautiful.

One question: do YOU enjoy writing them? If you do, the answer’s obvious. As someone who enjoys both reading and writing erotica, I’d encourage you to keep publishing them for selfish reasons 😛. I generally haven’t published my stories but, like yourself, I suddenly find myself with more spare time so I’ve been editing some of my old ones with a view to putting them on here or on my personal website. In my case, I must admit I’m not particularly after feedback (positive or negative) on mine; the intended audience was always me and a select few friends. But my boyfriend loves them and loves the reactions to erotica so I’m going to trial some.

He knows I want to publicise some of his videos. He keeps saying he’ll put them up somewhere; excerpts at least. He has a Nasty Kink Pigs’ profile with pics, I know that. He wants to sell homemade vids; he’s already had vids with clients they’ve kept and I know there’s at least one group session of him in a sling getting fucked mercilessly from years ago (on XTube I think). He put it on for us to fuck to when we first got together. He was so fucked yo, it’s unbelievable and got bred by (I’m guessing) 15-20 different blokes. He was on the streets then, just out of jail and pretty young. But it’s not exploitative somehow. He’s proud of it and loves watching himself getting gangbanged when he’s off his face. I’ve edited a couple of our sessions into some nice breeding videos and another with him and one of his straight friends getting slammed and fucked. He’s a natural porn performer imo; I’m biased but I can watch him get fucked endlessly. He really loses himself in sex; I love watching his eyes rolling every which way. Even some of his BDSM clips are great to watch even though they’re a bit over the top for my taste; Tard really gets off on guys trying their hardest to hurt him and seeing him love it. Long story short, he has quite a collection dating back to when he was very young; I’m encouraging him to put them out there, even if he just puts short excerpts in public.

I’m very much looking forward to the day I learn I’ve finally been knocked up by some bloke’s seed. I love the idea of he and I deliberately deciding to merge our bloodlines, our DNA. Hence my preference to know whose DNA is inside me for the res of my life. And, while I don’t believe in stealthing guys (I don’t judge those who do...or want to like my boyfriend (yes, we’ve decided to start describing ourselves as “boyfriends”. Tard surprised me recently by saying that to someone we both know well...and I must admit, his reaction when he saw I was a little embarrassed was another perfect example of why I’m falling for the bloke...we ended up making love in the backyard of his ex-girlfriend’s sister’s house...with numerous people he’s known for years who think of him as 100% straight watching him pull me inside him; it obviously turned him on hugely to have mates from his childhood seeing him enjoying getting fucked...but I digress). But I’m also looking forward to getting at least two biohazard tattoos probably three; one situate on my cock; one decorating my arsehole (possibly) and a larger one on my chest or lower torso. The designs I’ve seen that’ll form the basis for the designs thus far are below. I’ll add to these as I see them. Ideally, I’m a fan of 3D tattoos and tattoos that seem to be emerging from under the skin. While the tatts on my dick andut are intended to be unmistakably biohazard in nature, the larger one on my chest/torso/arm is to be sufficiently stylised so its nature won’t be immediately obvious unless you are really staring at it. The more subtle the underlying message, the more likely it’ll be situate on my forearm in full public view. It’s likely to be a scorpion for that reason with a biohazard symbol worked into the design somehow; perhaps with the use of UV ink to enhance its prominence in the dark. When I told Tard that I’d love a pre-pozzing biohazard tattoo, say a partial biohazard symbol emerging from under the skin, he fell in love with the idea and I’m giving it to him as his birthday present. It’s likely to become the key visual image of his escorting ads to emphasise he’s available to bottom to poz men. After he converts, it’ll signify that he’s available to breed neg guys too (after he converts me...if I don’t get pozzed before him of course. Tard hasn’t shown me the design yet but I know he’s taken the notion of a biohazard symbol bursting from under the skin with bone, etc exposed around it. (If any Australians would recommend a good tattooist who’s good for, and okay with, gay themed tatts, I’d appreciate you letting me know. Melbourne preferably but I’ll happily send Tard interstate (or even further) for the right artist.

Let me start with a declaration: this encounter happened yesterday on my way back from Melbourne to my farm in Gippsland but part of it is fictionalised; reflecting what I hope transpires next. Having been in virtual lockdown on the farm for most of the past fortnight, I made a quick trip to see my dealer. I wanted to stock up (as it were) knowing that tighter restrictions were pending in Australia. (They were announced yesterday, effective midnight last night, so it turned out As is my wont, I stopped at Tooradin Pier and messaged a young bloke, Ricky, I’ve hooked up with occasionally for the last six months or so. He’s a total bottom boy and a very appreciative cumslut. He looks younger than his ID says but he’s a very experienced young piggy boy who lives for getting wire fucked. Usually I stop there at night but this was mid-afternoon. Instead of smoking in my car, I decided discretion was the better part of valour and took my pipe into the toilet/shower block. After a while, there was a knock on the cubicle door and I opened it fully expecting it to be Ricky. It wasn’t. It was the young guy whose car had its hood up when I arrived. I’d offered him a jump start earlier but he declined, saying his dad was already on his way. ”Just wanted to warn you that you can see the smoke” was all he said initially. I thanked him for the warning and asked if he’d like a puff as thanks. It was obvious that’s what he wanted. I passed him the pipe expecting him to take a drag and leave but he indicated that he wanted to come into the cubicle. I won’t lie; I was surprised. He was young, very tanned and pretty good looking, despite an average hairstyle (to my taste). Without really hesitating, he stepped in and took the pipe and took a huge drag. As he exhaled, he blurted out, “fuck that’s good stuff” and offered me the pipe. I told him to keep going, to take as much as he liked. He did exactly that. After a few deep puffs, he passed me the pipe and observed, “ leaned forward and asked, “you don’t inhale deep enough”. That’s true actually. Never having been a smoker, I’ve never been particularly good at inhaling anything, be it smoke from tobacco or weed or a pipe. I tend to swallow pipe smoke to get as much into me as I can. Apparently it’s amusing to smokers to watch my trying to smoke. Without prompting, he took the pipe and said, “Shotgun?”; inhaled deeply and leaned in. It wasn’t bad. I blew the smoke back into his lungs and, after initially accepting it, pulled back sharply. But, instead of saying anything, he took another deep puff and leaned in again; this time he kept coming until hi lips were pressing against mine. I reacted as any gay or bi guy would and we were kissing. Full on; tongues probing. He stopped only to take another deep drag and leaned back in. At some point, I was playing with his nipple and the groan he gave out seemed to be the green light to lift his shirt and start sucking his nip. He was loving it and lifted his shirt over his head; I took the opportunity to lick his pits and all I heard was “fuck yeah”. I started working his nipples while he took some more deep drags from the pipe. Eventually, he pushed me away slightly and said those dreaded words: “look, I’m straight. How much gear do you have?” I showed him one of the 8balls I’d just bought and stuffed some large shards into the pipe. ”I want some. What will you want to give me a few points?” I took out probably 3-4 points, wrapped it in some toilet paper and said, “Honestly? Nothing. This is for you.” He grinned and leant in to kiss me. “You kiss well for a straight guy mate”. “ You kiss almost as well as my girlfriend” and, with that, he started kissing me passionately. After a while, he broke off and said, “My dad’s going to be here soon. Can I get a g if I let you suck my cock?” I told him I’d spot him a g without that. But I really wanted to see him naked so I started pushing at his cock. He was hard. “Can I see it?” He started pushing his shorts down with a grin. His boxers followed. He watched my reaction and said, “I could do with a blowie anyway” and he leaned in to kiss me again, this time slowly raising his hand up my back . Once he reached the back of my head, he started exerting downward pressure. Gently at first, then more firmly. I sucked his nipples as I bent my knees and licked his torso the rest of the way until I was directly facing his cock. It was an impressive dick; more pretty than imposing. ”How do you like it sucked?” but he seemed more bewildered by the question than anything. So I gently tongued his foreskin, then the rest of the head. He started back and groaned. “Like this?” Before he could answer, I sucked head strongly and said, looking up at him, “or this? Or...” Then I plunged my mouth over his entire cock. My lips touched the base and I looked up again; his reaction to me demonstrating my deep throating skills was honestly priceless. His eyes were rolling; his groans were loud enough to be heard outside I was certain. But that was his problem really, not mine. I kept working his cock and his balls. He was enjoying himself so much, he’d even forgotten about the pipe until I gently took it from him and took a drag. I think he expected me to stand to give him a shotgun. His moan was beautiful when I took his cock back in my mouth and slowly exhaled. He went to take back the pipe but I indicated he should wait. He watched me take another deep drag and allowed me to turn him around as I gave the pipe back to him. He was busy taking another puff when I spread his cheeks and licked his hole. Then I plunged my tongue inside his arse, as far as I could; he wasn’t protesting one bit as I worked his hole and blew the smoke inside him. After a while, I asked him if I could show him something I thought he might enjoy; he wasn’t protesting. I’d expected him at least to say something about not wanting to be fucked but he didn’t. It wasn’t my intention either; I was just going to insert a shard into his arse and work it with my mouth and tongue but, honestly, I half suspect he might’ve let me put my cock inside him if I’d asked. But I pulled back and told him I was going to booty bump him to see what he thought. Sure enough, a sizeable shard on the end of my index finger elicited an enthusiastic nod. I didn’t muck around either. I found his hole and pressed the shard around the edge for a few seconds, saying “Ready?” moments after I’d already pressed it inside him. My finger was inside him fully and I started pushing the shard into him; feeling the walls of his arse and pushing it as firmly as I dared. That produced his first protest. It had clearly cut him slightly but, instead of easing off, “Just bear with it. I’m trying to get it into your bloodstream”. Sure enough, he noticeably tried to relax and within seconds, his sphincter was relaxing. This little straight boy, this stranger, was loving it. After some time, his phone pinged. “Fuck, my dad’s here.” The mood changed instantly. He was no longer in the moment. He needed to get out and he was suddenly self-conscious about what he’d just been doing. I switched to protective mode. I helped him straighten himself out and gave him his gear and said, “I’ll give you my number. Don’t give me yours so you’re in control. If you ever want gear, let me know and I promise you there’ll be no catch. We’ll just have a smoke and talk, ok? No sex, no favours. Now, get out there and I’ll follow in a few minutes.” He leaned in to kiss me. Surprisingly. And whispered, “can I fuck you next time?” I could have fallen over; I didn’t need to answer that. After a few minutes, my phone pinged. “Stay there. I’ll tell dad I need to let my car run for longer .” And then: “A gram if I fuck you?” Just ten, Ricky responded to my earlier messages. He was minutes away and wanted me to slam and breed him; he had fits on him. So I responded to the young straight bloke whose name I still didn’t know: “You ok if my mate’s here? He wants to be fucked and loves loads. We can fuck him together.” He didn’t respond. Minutes later, Ricky knocked on the door. He was already lubed. I prepped a slam for him and rammed inside him. Later, there was movement outside the door: “it’s me. Let me in.” *** This is mostly true up to the point the young straight guy left. I left the toilet block a few minutes after he did. He sort of acknowledged me as I got into my car. I’m pretty sure he’ll contact me when he wants more gear. I think his father called him, Shane but I’m not certain. I hope he does ring me. I won’t lie; I want to fuck him but I want him to fuck me even more. Young Ricky got back to me when I was halfway home. I turned around and he came back to the farm with me and stayed the night. I just took him home.

I must admit that I haven’t come across that cliche very often but it’s fair to say that the attitude behind it can be fairly common. I’m pleased that I can honestly say that I never - not once - gave another person that sort of attitude when I was younger and more likely to be able to compete in a more elite “league”. Absolutely there were times when I wasn’t attracted to a particular bloke or in a space where I wanted to play with a different guy or had my own shit going on or whatever and may’ve been grumpy, even downright rude. But that, regardless of how poor my mood might’ve been at the time, only happened after I’d patiently and politely declined to respond with interest and had tired of being ignored. There’s two reasons for that: First, I try to conduct myself on a “first, do no harm” philosophy. While I don’t understand people who get hung up over their physical appearance, I’ve seen the damage it can wreak on a person’s psyche and I neither have the need, nor desire, to risk inflicting that pain on another person. When I see that sort of behaviour, it’s always been clear to me that those who feel a need to boost their sense of self-worth by denigrating others like that are, in fact, suffering from low self-esteem themselves. They’re striking out or at least constructing a pedestal to create for themselves a sense of relative importance. On the psychological scale, they’re akin to school age bullies and the recipient of their behaviour should understand that, first and foremost. Secondly, I’m fortunate in that I have a strong sense of self-worth and my physical appearance probably couldn’t be less important in the health of my ego. As a youth, I was always ungainly, weird looking. I had a period in my thirties and forties where my looks caught up with my features. As a result, that sort of attitude brings a very obvious pitying response and the individual is confronted with the understanding, if they’re smart enough, that it’s their inadequacies they’re highlighting. Ironically I tend to assume that “hawt guys” aren’t going to be interested in me physically and effectively been suspicious of people who really wanted to get to know me. That’s something that remains WIP for me. I’d encourage you to see their behaviour for what it is: an effective admission that they’re uncomfortable in their own skin; so uncomfortable that they endeavour to make others uncomfortable with them. If what irks you is their intention to, or lack of concern about, hurting those who are vulnerable to such things, all I can suggest is: don’t get irked by it, focus on turning the attention away from the victim of such rudeness. If they’ve been pestered and/or borderline harassed by someone who won’t accept no for an answer, I can understand why they might “lash out” in frustration. But there is more than one way to skin a cat as they say. Erecting the “not in my league” barrier is never the answer, not least because it says something quite debasing about the person who’d resort to that. Let’s face it: we’re all going to get older and “not in my league” is going to feel pretty shallow when you’re the one getting dismissed so superficially. I’m not sure the recipient of the insult plays any role in it; in other words, it wouldn’t matter if they were “picky” or otherwise. Such an utterance is entirely about one’s need to boost one’s own ego by denigrating others in my view. It should be understood as such. And that applies even if it was borne of frustration at their refusal to accept that you’re not interested, for whatever reason. Amusingly (well, I think it is anyway), something along these lines happened to me at Club 80 here in Melbourne a few weeks ago. A particular guy and I were clearly interested in “getting it on” but, after a while, I realised that he just wanted me to fuck him and I’d been wanting him to fuck me. I realised that we were at cross purposes far too late (I have an issue with hearing so that might not have helped either to be fair to him): long story short, when I realised that this bloke was desperate for me to fuck him, I tried to let him know as gently as possible that my dick wasn’t standing to attention that night for a very particular reason. He clearly took it as a personal slight. (It was nothing of the sort; I would’ve loved to have but my Mr D wasn’t wasn’t going to be returning for duty in anything approaching the requisite timeframe. It was dead for the night, to be blunt. But this bloke started yelling abuse, demanding to know how I thought I could knock someone like him back...Suffice to say, I - after initially trying to placate and explain the misunderstanding - started laughing at him yelling hysterically at me for a good hour after that....at which time, I realised that I’d stayed too long anyway and needed to head home...only to hear the abuse continuing from an upper level as I was leaving...which, to my shame probably, really made me laugh out loud. At him. The poor delicate idiot.

No it hasn’t and I can’t imagine why it would (unless you were planning an orgy with more than 500 attendees; the common threshold for restrictions on mass gatherings in Australia, the UK, Italy, Spain, etc) 😛 My sex life has improved recently but nowhere near by that much!😢

Steamworks was the last Melbourne sauna to have a dark room as far as I know and it closed down eons ago. I usually preferred fucking in other rooms at Steamworks tbh because I like what eye contact adds to the experience of fucking but regularly entered the dark room good for the different experience. Agree with others; the heightened reliance on hearing and touch was excellent.

Taking too many (ie a probably borderline dangerous number; in my (irresponsible) defence, I was very wired and desperately trying to overcome the effects on my cock so I could fuck the guy I was taking to a nudist beach on the Peninsula) Professionals at once can have this effect.

Welcome them with open legs 😛

I have to be honest about this: while I find brother-brother sex a huge turn on and don’t really have an issue with it, I’m always concerned about parent-child relations (even though I often find stories about it a turn on and once seduced a fuckbud’s father at his request in order to facilitate his desire to have sex with his father). But my fuckbud was 20 or so when we first hooked up. The notion of an adult parent having sex with their minor child is an abuse of their role imho...and I say that as one who’s now quite envious of those who started their gay sex lives as teenagers. By way of example, my godson wanted me to fuck him when he was 14-15. I refused only to have him join me in the shower when he turned 16 (to fuck me). His boyfriend, it turned out, popped Che’s cherry a few weeks after I refused (he’s almost four years older than Che) In the last year or so, my godson and his boyfriend had a threesome, replete with gear, with Che’s younger brother as their present for his 14th birthday.

For an awful long time, I would’ve regarded my penchant for sex with other men, especially receptive raw sex, as something of a fetish. Perhaps that’s why I’m struggling to nominate my fetishes of my own aside from loving being fucked raw and bred; as well as sex in public/risky situations? Also, I am ridiculously inspired by the notion of sex with straight men. The latter has been true for me since my earliest sexual experiences in my teens (when I showed a remarkable capacity for persuading even the most risk-averse, repressed girls to partake in public sex with me). While I now pursue pretty much every fetish you can think of (I’ve become sexually very adventurous after being quite vanilla for the first 25-30 years of my sexual life...other than my desire to be fucked by, and be very intimate with, other men), I do so moreso because fetishes turn on the guy(s) with whom I’m having sexual relations and turning on the bloke I’m with is what most turns me on.

Is he? God, I’d love to see him getting bred.

A psychologist was quite frustrated with me when she thought she’d had a major insight into my psyche when she said, “so you see intimacy and love as completely separate from sex?” and I lampooned her. I’ve known that about myself since I was a teenager: my closest relationships have always always been non-sexual even when there was a sexual attraction at the heart of them. Does that mean I am, or am not, a sex addict? Nothing to do with it. While I have a healthy libido, I also keep my sex life very separate from my emotional and “real” lives. Very few people have coexisted in both of my “lives” and those that have started as fuck buddies and became non-sexual friends. Can sex become an addiction? I suspect it can. The difference between that a healthy sexual appetite? The ability to recognise and maintain a life distinct from your sexual needs.

Kurt Wild was well known for being straight, married and an 18yo father when he started in gay porn as a pretty talented bottom who enjoyed his work. His interview with Tyra Banks at the time was hilarious.

It often slips out but the tension is half the fun. My ex (literally the only actual ‘boyfriend’ I’ve ever had) knew I enjoyed having him inside me for as long as possible so must’ve perfected it. To be honest, I hadn’t realised it was not ‘normal’ until I saw this thread. I was ‘little spoon’, yes; Gary and I would drift off to sleep kissing, etc with his arms firmly around me (it’s only just now that I am wondering how he didn’t get a dead arm every night?) with his body leaning slightly over mine. I was in what you’d call a slightly exaggerated foetal position I suppose. I’m normally a very restive sleeper too but something about that position stopped me tossing and turning. The trick with slip outs, I found, was not to be bothered by them. Occasionally he’d slip out during the night but often he wouldn’t. I’ve no idea any more what the proportion was ; I just know that it was sensational waking up the next morning knowing he was still “there”. It’s getting me hard even now trying to decide if I preferred it when Gary woke before me and so I was awoken by a growing erection already in situ or if it was better when I roused him by gently arousing him. Each had their advantages.

He’s one of those guys whose looks aren’t classically or strikingly handsome yet the ‘whole package’ has an innate sexiness that drives me wild. But he seems so nice...love to find out there’s a dirty little fucker behind that easygoing smile 😛

Very much so.

The honest answer is that they’re indivisible. Part of the reason a bare cock feels better is because, psychologically, you’re aware of the greater intimacy, the naturalness, the sharing of bodies and bodily fluids. I was a “straight guy who likes to have sex with other men” for years. As much as I enjoyed sex with women, there was a greater degree of intimacy with men. I worked out very quickly that I was more passionate and affectionate with men, before, during and especially after sex. Whereas I didn’t like post-coital kissing and holding all that much with women, I adored it with guys, even guys that were just pumping and going. I put it down to my role as a bottom; the notion of having a cock inside me was just so...sharing and so intimate. My first time was bare. Almost all of the fucks of the first few years of my gay sex life were bare (despite it being in the early 90s). In truth, had I started out “safe”, that sense of intimacy might not be tied to the non-interruption of a condom. Physically, I agree that it’s often difficult to tell the difference in many fucks. There are some fucks where I’m adamant that bare was significantly more sensitive. There have been many occasions when I’ve felt that build up of tension in the head of a man’s cock, the swelling and then the pulsation and explosion against the walls of my hole. And I always can feel the warm flow of cum inside, followed by the soothing effects of that warmth. The other obvious point where there’s a physical difference in sensation is easily proven: as you rub an erect cock around the hole, the feel of skin v that of latex is very noticeable. Try it sometime with both without looking and I suspect 90% of bottoms will be able to identify which is which with unerring accuracy. That first act of immediate penetration is crucial in the experience. Beyond that, it’s psychological. One of the most important and obvious aspects of the benefits of barebacking is ‘flow’ (not THAT flow 😛). I know that I’ve become more versatile over the years as I’ve just learned to ‘lose myself’ in lovemaking. These days, it’s absolutely standard for me, having been fucked, to simply roll over and rub my cock against the guy’s hole as a precursor to penetrating him. It just flows. There’s no pause; no delay to grab a condom wrapper, let alone unwrap the bloody thing and put it on. You’re in the moment, so to speak. Following your desires. It’s obvious but it bears re-stating: you feel, you desire, you act. That is psychological but when your desires are the entirety of the word in that moment, you’re attuned to feel everything within your combined bodies. While much of the time, it’s your mind telling you that, the occasions when you CAN feel that skin pressing on that precise spot or that flow of cum against your insides is mind-blowing.