ChainedBoy

I’ve gotten to the point when I can always stay soft and useless while getting fucked. Being flaccid with a man pounding my faggot cunt is very satisfying to me as (in my mind) it is a physical manifestation of my submission to the Fuckers will. I relish the look of superiority on their faces. When I take on the top role, I also enjoy seeing the bottom soft & useless for the same reason.

Wildly erotic!

It was a Friday night and I was browsing the hook-up aps looking to get laid. When I spotted a profile with the screen name ‘Doublewide’. Facepic was promising - heavyset, late 30’s, white guy; and a Top (which works for me). I was just about to message him when I get his IM. (Guess he caught me looking). We chat a bit, the usual pleasantries, and I ask if his screen name is because he lives in a trailer. He replies with a laugh emoji and says no. Then he sends a pic and says, “This is why”. It took my mind a few seconds to reconcile what I was seeing. It was his dickpic, yes. Fully erect. But it was the widest cock I had ever seen. Picture the dicks of two well-hung men merged together side-by-side as one shaft. My jaw literally dropped. In that moment I KNEW this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Without thinking, I immediately replied that I want him in me. He expressed reservations as he is all too frequently disappointed with bottoms that talk a good game but can’t deliver. I SWORE to him that I would not tap out. I sent him pix of my fuck-gaped faggot cunt, and one of me sitting on a good sized toy as proof. That seemed to - at least partially - allay his concern and soon enough I was knocking at his hotel room door. Let me skip ahead here. We’re naked. On his bed. He’s reclining against the headboard. Me on my knees face to face with his monster dong. My finger were nowhere close to getting around it. This is the best way I can describe how big & thick he was: Make a fist. Now look at the front of your fist. That’s what I was facing. I could not start to get it in my mouth. And I honestly started to have second thoughts about taking him in my faggot cunt. “You still wanna do this?” He asked warily as I attempted to service him. “Hell, yeah!, I replied. For I was NOT gonna go back on my word. He stood and positioned me kneeling at the corner of the bed. He greased my cunt and fingered me a good while; opening me up. I had brought my own poppers, but he said “No. Use this instead”. I opened it up and took a long drag in each nostril. These were old-school poppers. True amyl nitrate. I took another two long hits as he greased the wrecking bar between his legs. I felt his cockhead kiss my faggot cunt. I felt it pop my outer ring. I took another two deep hits. It was about to happen… He started pressing against my ass. His lubed, raw, doublewide insistently pushing against my back door. I took another deep hit. And then, his rail splitter punched into me. All at once, he was in me. “YES!”, he exclaimed. My pussy spasmed around his massive dong as a stream of precum drooled out of me and onto the bed. Time stopped as my body tried desperately to adjust to him. I felt every fiber of my body shake. I think I was on the edge of panic. He stroked my back. “Shhhh…shhhh…that’s it…”, he whispered. “Shhhh…it’s alight now…shhhh…Daddy’s home”. At hearing this, my mind exploded. A tidal wave of pleasure swept through my body. A profound guttural moan from the deepest recesses of my soul escaped me. My whole body went limp. I had opened myself - given myself to him. And so began one of the most transcendent fucks of my life. He began slowly enough there at the corner of the bed. Then he joined me on the bed and fucked me from behind. His pace steadily increasing. He then moved me effortlessly onto my back, my legs onto his shoulders. He passed me the poppers and told me to take the deepest hit of my life. I did so. I inhaled until my hand lost its grip on the bottle. He took the bottle from me and set it aside. I was on the verge of consciousness while he piled-drived me. It was relentless. It was brutal. It was rapture. Then, as I seemingly felt myself passed into and out of existence, I heard a distant voice say, “Oh fuck! OH FUCK!! I’m gonna cum!!” - I whimpered, “Daddy? Please…breed me Daddy”. A ROAR filled the room as a firehose of cum flooded me. I lay there impaled as torrents of seed jetted into me. That was when my own flood doors opened and a long steady stream of cum flowed out of me and onto my belly. Suddenly, violently, he ripped himself out of me. My whole body shook and spasmed at the loss. Out of nowhere, he straddled my chest. I could hardly breathe. He jacked his dong urgently. He lifted my head with his other hand . I instinctively opened my mouth and he, again, flooded me with another massive load. I swallowed all I could. The rest flowed down my jaw and neck. I think that was when I finally passed out. I’m not sure how long I lay there before I started coming too. I awoke to the sound of the shower shutting off. I reached behind me and ran my fingers around my sore, tired pussy lips. My cunt still gaping and drooling cum. Soon, he walked back into the room in his hotel robe. “You OK?” He asked as he handed me a bottled water. All I could manage was a smile. I sat myself up and I drank the full bottle of water. He instantly handed me another. I drank most of it too before standing up. I wobbled a bit as I staggered to the shower. I was in there awhile. The hot water felt amazing on my skin. He was sitting in one of the two armchairs when I walked back in the bedroom. Sipping whiskey in hand, and one already poured out for me. I joined him and we talked awhile. His name was Dwight. He was in town on business from New Orleans. He’s actually straight, married for 9 years with two kids. He explained that his wife just couldn’t handle him anymore and they agreed he could pursue ‘comfort’ when out of town. I could tell there was more that he didn’t say…there was was an unspoken equity happening at home while he was away. He groused that the few women who he tried fucking would always back out. One even claimed he had tried to assault her but eventually backed off. That was when he decided to start fucking gay men; reasoning they would be more keen to go for big meat and a lot less likely to claim they were assaulted. Smart guy. There was a quiet moment that told me it was time for me to get dressed and get going. As we approached the door, I thanked him for the hottest fuck of my life. He replied, “No. Thank you. That was the most satisfying lay I’ve had…in a VERY long time.” There was a solemn sincerity in that statement that made me pause. I was looking at a man who felt cursed. Tortured, even. There was really nothing more to say. He opened the door. I stepped out. The door closed.

I used to get hard - and mostly stay hard - when bottoming. As a good sub bottom, I completely ignored my dick. But there were complications. I’m somewhat bigger than average and some Fuckers would comment on my size compared to theirs. Not great to hear that the dude fucking you talk about wanting you to fuck them later/instead. Others weren’t bothered by my size but mistook my arousal for an invitation to handle my hard cock. Both of these situations are distractions best avoided (IMHO). Over time, I trained myself to stay soft and useless as that increased the Fuckers confidence, made me feel more submissive, and allowed me focus on making my faggot cunt feel as good as possible for the Fuckers cock. I toyed off and on with wearing a jock while bottoming, but it really didn’t do much for me; so I only did it if the Fucker preferred it. In those cases, out of sight really was out of mind. As I’ve gotten older, unwanted hard-ons haven’t been as much of a problem.

I’ll admit it; I do enjoy a porn scene where the top visibly cums once of twice on the hole he was fucking and then plunges his dick back in to deliver the rest of his load. Visually it’s a hot sight. But in the moment, nothing compares with balls fully emptying inside the fuckhole. And that applies for the top and the bottom, IMHO. What’s even hotter visually for me? Watching a cock and scrotum pulse over and over as the fucker empties entirely into the fuckhole. Hearing the fuckhole moan with cumjoy as he is made whole by white hot cum.

Most guys can get learn to suck dick like a pro. But there are some among us for whom being on their knees before a hard cock DEFINES them...for whom sucking cock is a religious experience that transcends our plane of existence. You know the ones I’m talking about - and for those men; ‘Gifted’ is an understatement.

I could see he was getting close, “Oh fuck, pig! I’m gonna cum!”, he bellowed. “Do it, fucker! Knock me up! Breed me!”, I begged. “Gonna POZ you up man. Gonna. Fuckin’. POZ!!!!”, he barely got that out before I felt his rock hard meat painting my guts with his sick seed. Time was suspended as I stared up at him between my legs. He ground his venom into me real good before finally going soft and sliding out. I immediately replaced his cock with a butt plug I kept handy. Nothing like getting a charged load on your lunch hour. Ain’t working from home great? Now, I have a fondness for rough trade. And this dude was just my speed: Skinny, bearded, heavily tattooed, and POZ - a gorgeous specimen. To think I had hit him up less than an hour before on one of the hookup apps. And here I was with his toxic baby batter safely stewing in my faggot cunt. ”You think it’ll take?”, I asked. “Should - I’m toxic as fuck.”, he replied while casually lighting a cigarette. Soon enough he got dressed and collected his gear. “Let me know if you wanna go again sometime, dude”, I said as he walked towards the door. He paused, got a wicked smile on his face and said, “Come see me tonight. Stop by just before 9 pm. Be ready”. With this, he handed me a business card. “Later pig”, he spat as the door shut behind him. I inspected the card; ‘Ruby Scorpion Tattoos’. The address put it on the south side of town. I have some ink on me, not a lot, but I hadn’t scratched that particular itch in some time. I had only started actively Chasing since making a New Years resolution to get POZZED by the end of this year. And finding a real unmedicated POZ fucker was proving a greater challenge than I had expected. So the prospect of getting another dirty load from this guy - especially in a tattoo parlor - got me hella excited. By 8:30; I’m cleaned up, cleaned out, and headed to the south side. As I’m driving through this unfamiliar part of town, I see a red neon scorpion in one of the windows. Definitely the right place! I hit the front door just before 9 pm. A bell announces my arrival. “We’re closed!”, said a big guy with a push broom, not bothering to look up. “Oh - umm...I was told to..”, I stammered. “We’re closed, ASSHOLE!”, he growled this time turning to face me. It was then that I realized I never got the name of the fucker that had bred me. I pulled the business card - no name on it. At this point, the broom guy started toward me with a purpose. This guy was big. I mean BIG: six foot four, broad shoulders, barrel chest, shaved head, goatee, wearing a white wife-beater that popped against his brown skin. And he was clearly pissed. I’m already turning to leave as he reaches for me. “Tiny! Hold it, he’s with me.”, I hear from the back of the shop as the fucker from before enters the front. ‘Tiny’ released me roughly as the fucker locked the front door and took me by the arm. “I’m sorry. I...I..didn’t know your name”, I offered a bit shakily. “Chill”, he replied as we crossed the room. “Yeah, sorry - your buddy ‘Tiny’ kinda freaked me out. I’m chill, I’m chill...”, I began. “No, I’m Chill... My. Name. Is. ‘CHILL’”, he corrected. It took me a second. “Oh...OK. Hi.” (Jeez this guy must think I’m a dork). He chuckled to himself as he walked through the shop. “So you already met Tiny”. I acknowledged him with a nod. He had resumed sweeping. “Come with me”, he ordered. I complied, lost in the moment. “Tiny, this is that new guy I told you about earlier.”, Chill said causing Tiny to stop sweeping. “Oh yeah?”, Tiny replied, “I’ll tell Sarge”. With that, Tiny disappeared into the back room. I followed Chill down a flight of stairs to a dungeon space. The room was painted black with red lighting. A sling hung in the middle. I didn’t need anymore encouragement. I was naked in an instant. Chill pushed me to my knees and hauled out his semi while I hit my poppers. I was sucking him nice and hard as I heard two sets of boots tromp down the stairs. Soon enough, Tiny had hauled me up - effortlessly, I might add - and set me into the sling. He secured my wrists and ankles firmly with velcro restraints. He paused to take in my body. I’m no huge prize, but I’m decent looking for a man who just turned 40. This was the first time I looked at Tiny in the face. He was handsome, with smooth features that made him ageless. He smiled knowingly, leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Chill told us about you. About what you want. What you need,” he started caressing my cheek. I began to speak, “Shhhh,” Tiny whispered putting his index finger to his lips, “You’re here for a reason. You’re in the right place.” “This the pig you bred earlier”, a new voice bellowed. “You must be Sarge,” I said. He looked over at me with a cold glare. “No one’s talking to you.”, he uttered condescending while taking a puff of his cigar. Tiny, behind him, held his index finger to his lips again. OK, my bad - I thought to myself. Sarge was an older dude. Silver flattop haircut, clean shaven, muscle shirt, jeans, sleeves on both arms, and a face that told the story of a life lived hard. I watched as Chill undressed as he murmured something in Sarge’s ear. Tiny took his his cue and also started undressing. All the while, Sarge never taking his eyes off me. Sarge walked over to me. His two coworkers flanking him, stroking themselves absently. He took a long draw on his cigar. The tip of it glowed red. Smoke exited his nostrils menacingly. “Chill tells me you’ve been looking for...a certain something. Is that right?”, he asked. I nodded and swallowed hard. “Well, lucky for you, we may just be able to help you with that. Is that what you want?”. I nodded again as my cock twitched. He took another puff of his cigar and stepped back into the darkness. Chill stepped forward, greased his cock and pressed it against my hole. Tiny got me poppered up as Chill entered me. He was just as bone hard as he had been earlier that day. You ever take a cock that’s so hella-hard it feels like steel? That’s Chill. His dick may not have been the biggest, but it was veiny as fuck and I swear it was hard as stone. He got his fuck on. I could see his turgid tool sawing into me in the mirror suspended above. I felt and watched as my now soft, worthless, dick jiggled and bounced on my belly. I reveled in that expression of my submission. I could see Sarge’s silhouette in the background - his cigar glowing and fading from time to time. The smoke lending a haze to the dim red lighting. Having unloaded in me earlier, Chill took a good long time to get his nut. But nut he did. And gloriously so. He made sure to fully unload into me before stepping away. Less then a minute later Tiny stepped forward. Having taken off his shirt I could now see, even in this light, his full body tattoo. It was one magnificent piece, from his neckline down. He turned around slowly, arms outstretched, to let me take it In. I marveled at the artistry, at the patience it took, at the pain tolerance of the man. It must have taken years. That familiar red glow peaked and faded over his shoulder. Tiny seemed to enjoy the admiration - of me feasting my eyes on him. He smiled broadly and cued me to look up at the mirror. Doing so, I saw his equally magnificent black cock as he approached my cunt. Tiny, it was NOT. This was a cock any man would envy. Would fear. Thick as my wrist and almost as long. With a magnificent crimson head the size of a plum. I took a hard swallow as his foreskin kissed my pussy lips. I tensed at the thought of him entering me. From the shadows, Chill appeared and poppered me up. With that, Tiny began his long journey into me. His pliant cockhead entered me easily enough. Followed, slowly, by his ebony shaft. Slowly. Achingly slowly. I could hear my heart beating in my ears as his smooth raw cock travelled deeper and deeper towards my core. I felt him press against my inner ring. Somehow, Chill was right there poppering me up again. I could feel Tiny relent from my inner cunt. He whispered: “Give your self to me. I want to give you my Gift. Show me how much you want it, now.” In that moment, I felt my world open to him. Tiny slid effortlessly the rest of the way into me. A stream of precum flowed out of my soft useless dick onto my belly. He dipped a finger into it and brought it to his lips. “Sweet, like nectar”. He hissed. I was gone. Gone. I think I passed in and out of consciousness. I remember feeling myself move, rocking back and forth - as if in slow motion. My vision narrowed. I seemed to float up above myself. I could see myself being cleaved in half by this beautiful living rail splitter. Moments later, I realized I was looking at my reflection in the mirror. I wondered why I had not realized that before. Waves of pleasure crashed over me. I marveled as Tiny’s black log appeared and disappeared. Over and over. A part of me wondered how he was doing that. Suddenly I tumbled back into myself when I heard a long scream. It was Tiny. His body convulsed as he delivered a river of charged cum into me. Flooding me. Tiny stood very still. I could see his chest heave for breath . He was covered in sweat, as was I. After a long moment I felt his magnificent third arm slip out of me. He staggered back, into the shadows. I didn’t need my hands to tell me my cunt was gaping open and dripping onto the floor below. I wallowed in that feeling of total surrender. Then I heard Sarge step forward. His cigar lighting the way. He took the cigar from his mouth and brought it down to my mawing cunt. I felt him circle my gaping pussy lips with it. The feeling was...indescribably perfect. He brought his cigar back to his mouth. With this, Chill and Tiny stepped forward next to him. Sarge savored the taste of cum on his cigar. Tiny leaned down to receive Sarge’s smoke filled kiss. He took another puff and shard that with Chill. I was witness to a sharing I never knew possible before. Sarge unzipped and hauled out his own very impressive meat. He slipped into my meathole all too easily. “Mmmm...just how I like it: Sloppy as all fuck.” Sarge pulled out and took hold of his long pendulous balls. Together with his cock, he brought them to my mawing cunt, and all at once ALL OF HIM was inside me. Sarge was fucking me with his cock and balls fully inside me. My mind reeled at the sight of it. He pounded me with fury. I watched slack-jawed as he pins toned my cunt until he delivered his demon seed into me as well. It was all too much - and watched as my now hard cock shot a no hands load on me chest. Rapture. It was rapture. Sarge took a step back and regained his composure. “Your journey is almost done”, Sarge said softly. With that signal, Tiny and Chill appeared on either side of me. A small spotlight shown on my left pec. Chill wiped me down as Tiny picked up his tattoo machine. It buzzed to life in his hand as he brought it to my skin. “I had my doubts when Chill brought you here,” Sarge shared. “He had to convince me. But you won over Tiny fairly quickly. And seeing you take them on as you did proved they were right. You were ready.” Tiny worked on me for a several minutes. I couldn’t make out what he had tattooed on my chest in the mirror above. As Tiny stepped away, Chill leaned in from his side and started with his machine. The buzzing continued. Sarge went on, “You’re part of a select few now. We’ve only given our collective Gift to three others before you. Each of us, you see, carries a different strain. All three of us are unmedicated POZ. And now, all three strains have found their new home in you”. The buzzing stopped. Tiny and Chill freed my hands. Sarge passed me a hand mirror. For the first time, I saw my transformation tattoo: A small Ruby Scorpion. It was beautiful. I felt a peace wash over me. As if I had reached the end of a long journey. Finally, I had come home.

Outstanding! Is there a second chapter?

OK, I just added “Men’s Fitting Room” to my bucket list of places I need to fuck. 😆 To answer your question: My fetishes vary...beards, tattoos, gingers, cigars, and anon among them.

You’re killing me with the description of that beach location! 😂

Cop number four is kindof a cheat. He was actually a mall security officer I had been seeing. But damn did he fill that uniform well. Average height, bearded, coal black eyes, tattoos for days, standard issue cut cock, and a total top. While we enjoyed sex at home - we REALLY enjoyed sex in all the nooks and crannies of the mall he worked at. The service corridors behind the stores, the elevator control room, a men’s room that was closed for remodeling, several dark corners of the parking structure, etc. My favorite had to be when he took me to the backroom of a ‘Casual Corner’. There I was, bent over a stack of boxes, Max plowing my back forty with his usual skill. At some point I noticed that the boxes were labeled ‘Maternity Dresses’ - which, with my twisted mind, struck me as so absurd that even while he was plowing me, I started saying; “Breed me!”, Knock me up!”, “Give me your babies!”, laughing more and more all along. By the end, I was laughing so hard he had to pull out. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”, he asked confused and maybe a little angrily. By this point I was doubled over with laugher, all I could do was point at the words on the box. It took Max a hot second to put the pieces together and he was on on the floor laughing alongside me. Crazy good times.

Today I got to thinking about the times I’ve had sex with cops over the years. Here’s my rundown. Hope you don’t mind the length - think of it as five separate stories. My first hookup with a cop took place at my sisters wedding reception at the local union hall. I was all of 19 years old and the cop could not have been too much older. I saw his name badge, Anthony something. He was slim, dark hair, olive complexion, with a 5 o’clock stubble. A handsome, swarthy, Italian. I chatted him up and gave him all the signals. His occasionally reaching down to adjust himself told me I was on the right track. After awhile, he announced it was his break time and that he was gonna go take a leak. He paused for a half beat and walked away. Message received, I followed close behind, through the hall and down the stairs to the lower level. The bathroom had an old trough urinal. There was no-one else there. We pull up together, side by side, and haul out our meat. He immediately releases a powerful stream, while I manage barely a dribble. “Impressive”, I remark. We both stroke the last few drops of piss out. Our dicks swelling visibly. He smirks as he puts his cock away, zips up, and signals me to follow. He walks quickly to the back of the men’s room and through a door marked “Janitor”, me right behind. Once inside, he locked the door lock with authority and turned to me. Grabbing me by the lapels of my rented tux, he swung me around and pushed me to the wall. I was stunned for a moment as he stepped back and hauled out his now fully hard cock. “This what you want, FAGGOT?”, he spoke in a harsh but hushed tone. I stood there jaw slack. “SUCK IT!”. My knees hit the cement floor as I took his uncut cock in my mouth. “You like that, FAGGOT?!” He asked as he slapped my face - hard. “Yeah! You liked that didn’t you?” I did. I liked it. A lot. He didn’t have a big dick but it was angry, veiny as hell, and hard as steel. After only a few seconds of sucking he grabbed the sides of my head and started skull fucking me. “Yeah. That’s how you want it - that’s how you need it” He was all out pounding my face now. I could feel his belt start causing damage to my forehead and the bridge of my nose. “Oh fuck! I’m gonna fuckin’ cum. You hear me FAGGOT! I’m gonna fuckin cum and you’de better swallow every fucking drop”. This was divine torment. I was being face raped by a cop. “TAKE IT! FUCKIN’ TAKE IT!” he spit the words out as he filled my mouth with seed. I felt my eyes roll to the back of my head as he grounded himself into me. “Every drop. FAGGOT! Every fucking drop. I don’t wanna see one drop on my uniform”. Needless to say, not one drop of cum got on his uniform. Blood from my forehead, however, was another thing. He grabbed a paper towel, “Clean that up!”, he ordered. I wiped my blood off his belt. He straightened himself up and tucked himself in. I knew better than to get up from the floor. “I’m gonna walk out of here. You,’”, he said leaning down with a pointed finger, “are gonna stay here for five minutes before you leave. Understand?” I saw rage and contempt in his face. I didn’t dare look him in the eyes. “Yes....Sir.”, I croaked out. He turned and as he opened the door he muttered “Fucking FAGGOT”. I stayed there, on the floor, my knees aching, blood trickling down my face, cum on my lips, and all I could do was pull out my cock and jack off ‘til I came. Once I had cleaned up, I went back upstairs. I saw him standing there in the same place we started. And it was like nothing ever happened. He looked at me like any other party random goer. No hint of recognition. Nothing. Compete poker face. I had to explain how I “walked into a door” to a couple of people. To this day, I have a tiny scar between my eyebrows as a reminder. Second cop was an early bf of mine. Well...bf is too strong a word. More accurately, he was a guy who fucked me on the regular. Denny would call me late at night (this was before cell phones, so no texts) and come over for a booty call. Usually on Friday and Saturday nights. We met when he responded to a two vehicle accident I was involved in. Don’t ask how it moved from that to him fucking me later that week. I honestly don’t remember. Denny was a beast. Blond, barrel chested, big fucking uncut cock - seriously, he had an 8” hooded monster. He’d come by for a pump and dump. So I’d always clean out before bed those nights in case he called. Once he arrived, he would just walk in (he never knocked). There was to be no talking. I would ‘assume the position’ (laugh) head down ass up at the edge of the bed. He would drop trou, grease his uncut meat, and slide into me slowly. (That last part, a concession he made at my request, for originally he would impale me all at once and rip my guts apart.) Once in me, he would take a long hit of poppers and he would be gone. Totally in his own head as he fucked me. I was a meathole. A fucksleeve. A slightly more satisfying option than just jacking off. Nothing more. Sometimes he would fuck me slowly, lazily. Other times he would completely pummel me to the point of destruction. I never knew which to expect. And all through that, not one word from him, until the end. When he was ready to cum, he would stop, reach down, pull his gun, put it to my head and croak out the words, “Don’t you fucking move! Stay very, very, still.” A long pause would follow, both of us frozen in place as the muzzle of his gun dug into my scalp - only then I would feel his dick spasm deep inside me. I could feel every rope of cum as it shot out of him and into my cunt. We would stay there suspended as he emptied himself into me. His cock deflating inside me until finally, he would take a step back; his gun finally returned to its holster. This was my signal to turn and clean him off with my mouth. Sometimes, just sometimes, he would softly stroke my hair. This ‘arrangement’ lasted most of a year. Then, by winter, he stopped calling/coming over. I never saw him again after that. >>> EDIT: The first time he did that gun thing, yeah, I freaked out. But he showed me that he had, in fact, removed the clip, emptied the chamber, and engaged the safety. He apologized but said doing that was gonna be a deal breaker for him. The fact that I was young and stupid and he had a big dick overrode my good judgement. Denny was...intense - to say the least. Third cop was a state trooper named Robert. We met at a gay leather weekend event. Lean muscled, late 40’s, hairy chest, flattop haircut, graying temples. Total cockpig. Sucked me with an expertise I rarely experience anymore. I fucked him legs up in my hotel room that night. That man had a pussy on him that felt tight all the way to his core. And his cunt milked my dick like nothing I had experienced before. Seriously. I was having real trouble lasting more than just a few minutes fucking him. He agreed to stay the night with me (something I rarely do) so I could fuck him again the next morning. Seeing this 100% masculine, lean, blue eyed Daddy riding my cock cowboy style that next morning; his soft, useless dick bouncing and jiggling before me drove me wild. He was the embodiment of unapologetic, sexual abandon. I bred him again that morning before we parted ways. I would see him again late that night in the playroom. He was up in the public sling taking in all cummers. I do believe every top at that run dumped his load in Robert at some point that weekend. Sunday morning, we traded info and eventually set a date for me to visit for the weekend at his home (he lived a couple of counties away). Only learned he was in law enforcement when I arrived at his house and there was a trooper vehicle in his driveway. He chuckled and verified that yes, it’s his car. Fucked him every which way there is in his basement sling and his fuckbench. He even let me fuck him (partially) in uniform. Hot weekend. Visited him again another time; he had set up a gang bang for himself. Me and five other guys took turns on him in the course of the day. We’d drink beer, smoke cigars, eat barbecue, and fuck Robert. I’ll confess - I could have developed feeling for Robert...I was developing feelings for Robert. He was everything I’d ever want in a man. But he made it clear he wasn’t interested in a relationship with anyone. I would see him again at other leather events; up in the sling. I take a turn sliding into his cummy cunt. Our eyes would lock as I fucked him. The feel of his cumslicked pussy only making me breed him even more quickly than normal. And once I had bred him and another dick had taken my place, he reached for my arm, pulled me to him, and kissed me deeply - something he did with very few cummers - before I folded back into the crowd. The fifth cop was Roy. Roy had been one of other invitees at that group scene at Robert’s house. Roy works as a deputy in a nearby suburb of my town. More of a bubba - heavy set dude with a stubby dick. But he fucking makes those four and a half inches work. Seriously. The man never goes soft and he is a multiple cummer. It’s fuck, cum, pause, repeat. Three or more times per session. (I know, right?) That little dick has real stamina and staying power. (Never underestimate a man because he has a small dick.) Roy is also a helluva good bottom. He loves his toys when he bottoms. I still have four or five favorite toys that he likes me to use on his cunt when he comes over. He taught me a lot about playing with toys during our sessions. Done right, it makes him drip precum like a leaky faucet. Which he uses to jack himself off and cum REPEATEDLY. I’ve learned a lot about Roy and his family. And over the years, we have traded a lotta cum back and forth between us. More and more time passes between fuck sessions. Of course, 2020 made hooking up impossible - so looking forward to seeing if the magic is still there in 2021. Hope you enjoyed reading about my experiences. Leave a comment if you did. :-)

I have zero interest in condom porn.

It didn’t happen instantly, nor was it just one thing. First, I made certain that I ignored my dick entirely when getting fucked. (Easier said than done at first.) I’ve heard from others that wearing a jock helped them limit that temptation. I’ve not done that nor have I ever worn a cage. Then I focused all my energies on making my hole feel good for the Fucker. It helped when I began to refer to my hole as my pussy (or my cunt). Doing this regularly made me start thinking of my cunt as my primary sex organ. I also celebrated incremental wins. For instance: Instead of faulting myself for being hard most of the time, I congratulated myself for being soft some of the time...or half the time, etc. This led to me having increasing lengths of time soft. I also eroticized and embraced being “soft and useless” as a gift to my fucker to show my submission. I really do take pride in watching and feeling my dick flopping and jiggling on my belly or under me. Now, don’t get me wrong - I still get hard at first to show my excitement, but then I go soft very quickly once a dick is in me. You should also know that I am actually quite versatile and do fuck when the desire arises without a problem. So these techniques haven’t affected my ability to perform when I’m the Fucker. These concepts worked for me, I hope you you find some of them useful.

I ignore it completely. I’m entirely focused on pleasing my Fucker. My pride and pleasure is derived entirely from His enjoyment. And I have trained myself to go completely soft and useless as a demonstration of my submission to the Fucker using me. This has the added benefit of making it less likely that a) the Fucker will want to stroke it and b) that He will feel insecure as my dick is usually bigger dick than theirs. As a plus, the look and feel of my totally soft dick jiggling on my belly for my Fucker to see is a very real turn on for me.