FelchingPisser

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... North of Home—August, 2013 I have a fuck bud who never tires of pointing out all the places he’s had sex. If we are riding together in his home town, he will inevitably start pointing to various motels, apartment buildings, alleys, warehouses, and parks with no more than the sentence: “And I’ve had sex there.” Well, there are two motels built fairly recently on I-94 that every time I pass them, I have always thought “Why have I NOT had sex there?” This August provided me with checking the first of them off my imaginary to do list. He’s a bear of a man. He’s tall and just older than I. His pics reveal a barrel of a chest, with copious amounts of fur. He has thick tree trunks of legs and, in the last picture, a beautifully defined ass. “Fuck me?” he writes. “Love that cock pic.” We chat. He’s at the one of those expensive new motels on business. He’s from somewhere out West. Having been burned before, I ask if he has clean out supplies with him. His answer is no, he’s brought nothing with him. And he really doesn’t want to go get anything. So fucking is off the table. But we are both horny. We both have a big oral side. We agree on an all oral session an hour from now. I nod to the night clerk. I walk in like I know just where I am going. Larry’s told me where the elevators are located. Without looking lost or confused, I stride right to them, punch the button and go through the double doors before the clerk can question me. I get out on the third floor. I find the room easily. I knock. It swings open. “Nice,” he tells me appreciatively as I step in. He looks just like his pictures, which is good for me. He’s dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers. He leads me to the foot of the bed. He is instantly down on his knees, undoing the buttons of my 501’s. He pulls them down, just past my knees. His mouth is all over my grey boxer briefs. His spit changes their color from light grey to a wet, dark grey. My cock is beginning to stand up. Finally, he pulls them down. My cock all but slaps him in the face. He rears back, spits into his hand and, just taking the tip of my cock into his mouth, he begins jerking the shaft. His tongue is invading my piss slit. Then it’s all over my flared head, swabbing it with the precum he’s licked up. I hold his head still, knocking his hand off my cock. I begin a slow face fuck. He groans. I have hit on something really good, it seems. I see his cock, sticking out of the boxer’s fly, drool. I push a little deeper with each slow stroke. I never quite get it all the way down his throat. We stop to let me get naked. He undoes my boots. I shuck off the jeans and the underwear. He takes my socks off lovingly, but stops short of working over my toes. I pull him up. I pull the shorts off and take his cock in my mouth. He’s thick, but not long. I take him to the root repeated. He pulls me off, begging a short fuse. “Fuck my face.” He flops down onto the bed, on his back with his head hanging over the edge of the bed. I straddle his head and push in. This is good. I’m in total control. And he can take me much deeper. His gag reflex seems to turn off in this position. I fuck his face. Deep. We break. He takes a piss but I don’t ask if he’d like to feed me—I’d ruin the dynamic. We sixty-nine. Something I haven’t done in year. Then I’m back to fucking his face. He is really moaning now. His hand is all over his own cock and balls. I thrust again and he shoots into the hair on his chest. I pull out as I lean forward and lick some of it up. That’s enough to make me will myself to blast my own cum across his chest, to mix with all that he’s shot. **** We are lying side by side, talking about this and that. Then a silence. “I’m new to all this,” he says aloud to the room, not really looking at me. “Oh?” “I didn’t have gay sex until I was 48. I’m just 57 now.” “Did you want to have sex with men when you were in high school?” “I thought about it. But I didn’t know how to start. Now I can’t get fucked enough.” “So did you mess around back then at all?” “Nope. I got my date pregnant after the senior prom when I was 17. We married for the kid.” “That took care of that….” “Right. But he knows now, my boy. He’s very supportive.” “That’s good.” A pause. “The next time I come up here I’d love to have you fuck me. I didn’t bring my hose ‘cuz I usually share a room with another guy.” I nod. “When we come back, I’ll make sure we book separate rooms again.” I smile. This was going to likely be a forgettable encounter—made memorable only by finally fucking in this new high end motel. Instead, I find it hard to forget the man who was in limbo all those years—and is now bent on making up for lost time… More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Near Home—August, 2013 Work was still heavy at the top of August, but I found time to escape on another Friday night to the closest bookstore… I am in the straight theatre. No one is here tonight—except guys who check in, see nothing happening and then go back to wandering. The movie is average, at best, as it can’t make my cock stay hard. It’s shaping up to be a waste of time. But it can all change with one man. The door buzzes. I watch a younger man come in. I’ve seen him around. He watches other guys have sex and beats himself furiously, rarely letting anyone touch him. And that’s a shame. I find him very handsome. I guess he’s in his late 30’s, perhaps 6 feet tall. He seems to be in shape, but the clothes he chooses to wear disguise his physique. He looks a little wary when he sees me. I am sitting against the left wall. He chooses a seat on the right wall, directly across from me. My cock gets hard. I look at the porn, I look at him. I stroke slowly—showing him my full length. He looks away. He’s now watching the porn and kneading his khaki trousers. I look back at the porn. I glance at him again. His crotch has mounded nicely. Our eyes meet. They hold for a second. He looks away, but he unzips. He pulls out a bigger than average cock. His hand flogs it, fast and tightly. Silence. Except for the moans from the screen and the sound of the two of us stroking. Unexpectedly, he gets up and sits next to me. “Will you cum on me?” he asks in a low voice. “I want to be covered with your jizz.” I smile at him. “Perhaps.” He just looks at me. “If you will help me get off.” He says nothing. We both go back to looking at the screen. But almost immediately, his hand is reaching for my cock. He strokes me, just as hard and fast as he does himself. It’s not what I like at all. I touch his wrist. The pressure on his arm slows him down. He strokes me at a better pace. I add spit. It’s feeling good now. The door buzzes. He pulls back his hand as though my dick gave him a shock. The new occupant is the young college guy from the other night—the one who wanted me to fuck him, but the other daddy got up him before I could get to his ass. He sits opposite from us. In no time he removes his t-shirt and shorts. He beats a nice sized cock. He grins at me. I nod and he quickly comes over and settles between my legs. He gives great head. The shy man watches, stroking faster. He opens his shirt. He repeats his request to be jizz covered. He kicks his pants down around his ankles. The college kid is getting me close. It must be really working for him, too. He stands up. I think for a moment he’s going to sit on my cock, but he pulls my head forward to take his dick. He’s shooting. Big. Like 20 year olds do. I hold it in my mouth. When he pulls out, I lean over and let it drip onto the Shy Ones chest, who moans in ecstasy. He beats harder, but doesn’t get off. The college guy looks at his load on the other guy, grins and gets dressed, leaving us alone. The Shy One turns to me. “Yours, too.” “Then suck me.” I say it without thinking. I know he won’t do that. He looks at me. Then he gets on his knees. He just looks at my cock for a long time. He’s stopped stroking himself. I pull my cock towards my chest, raising my balls—offering him to start there. His tongue snakes out. And makes contact. He whimpers. I sigh. It feels great as he makes them very wet. I push my cock down. I want it inside his mouth. He looks at it for a moment, then ovals his lips. I’m in. He takes over half of me. He’s not a good cocksucker. But he is sucking wholeheartedly. I worry about teeth, but the mind game of getting him to do it is still hot enough to keep him in place. Eventually he tires. He can feel I am not close at all. He gets up and sits back in his chair. “Why don’t I suck yours.” He shakes his head. Then mutters something. “What?” “You could eat my ass,” he says, louder this time. Really? When he knows that other guy’s load was in my mouth? I don’t wait for him to think about it. I hunker down between his now spread legs. I find the tight hole. He’s clean and ready for me. My tongue pushes in. A loud groan erupts from his face. He starts talking dirty—telling me what to do. I lick and spit, pushing in the saliva. “Put your finger in me.” I take direction. My long, bony middle finger glides up his wet hole. In moments, he points his cock at me and shoots a load all over my face—the forehead, the nose, and my left temple. I come up for air and scramble to my feet. I’m just in time to ass a fresh load to the one drying on his chest. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... The Next Town Over—August, 2013 The phone rang. I have put it in a little pocket on the console of my Ford Focus. I reach for it and flip it open. (Yes, I still have a flip phone. And I like it.) “Yes?” “It’s off. He thinks he wants to go home,” sighs the producer of the Transman porn website. “I’m over halfway there.” It’s my turn to sigh. “Wait a minute, I’ll call you back. Keep on coming.” A mile later the phone rings again. “He’ll do it,” the producer barks out, before I can even say hello. “See you in just a few.” We’ve done the paper work. I’ve signed my waiver. Justin has signed his. The producer disappears to get us coffee. Justin and I talk a little. The young man opposite me in the under furnished family room is dark blond, with his hair cut short. He is maybe 5’8” and trim. He lives in Chicago and is here for the weekend. Whatever the problem had been, it seems to be resolved. I want to make sure he won’t change his mind mid-scene. As soon as the producer returns and hands him some sort of fancy coffee, he disappears to shower and get ready. I set up the sling in the master bedroom. “We’ll start on the bed in the small room,” the producer tells me. “Then invite him to your place for a ride in the sling. I trust you to improve some dialogue.” I nod. No worries there. I strip down. I feel incredibly naked without boots and jock. “Put your underwear back on.” I step back into my grey boxer briefs. They cover my growing bulge, mounding it nicely. The small room, even lit by the umbrella reflected lights, is cool. Justin really feels it walking out of the steamy bathroom and sitting on the smaller bed. “Ok. We set?” asks the producer. “Oh, no anal. Keep it all front hole. And action.” I am a tad disappointed. I love three holes to play in. We improvise something about a mutual attraction—something about how we’ve always wanted to meet. I pull him into a kiss. He responds. He’s a good kisser. No reservations at all. My index finger traces the tattoos on his shoulder and bicep. We knead each other’s underwear. I pull mine down, so my cock flops free. Soon he’s sucking my dick. He’s bent at the waist, in an awkward position. I flatten out on the bed. I pull him down so he can take my cock more easily. I love the feel of his younger skin against my chest. “Sixty-nine,” comes the prompt from the producer. We pause as Justin gets rid of red underwear. I twist my head so I’m under him. My tongue finds his asshole. He grunts in appreciation as I connect. I linger there then work down to his front hole. I lick and swallow. I spit and reach around to play with his now wet t-cock as my tongue invades his hole. Justin squirms and takes me to the root. Without waiting for a prompt, he pulls forward and settles down on my cock, facing away from me and towards the camera. I watch the lens zoom in so it sees nothing but my oversized, wet cock splitting him in two. When the camera pulls back, Justin reverses. He bends towards me to kiss me as I continue to pound up into his front hole. “Taste yourself on me.” I wonder if he’ll want to, but he gets right off me and takes my cock to the root. He sucks me and then comes up to kiss me deeply. It’s my turn to sigh. I get a sign from the producer. I ask Justin if he’d like to try the sling at my house. “Break.” We all take a moment to drink water—or the remains of our coffee. The room has warmed. We make the trip down to the other bedroom. The producer brings the lights and sets them up so he gets the fewest shadows possible. “Ready?” “Sure.” I look at Justin. He’s already in the sling, making clear his answer. I get his feet in the stirrups. “Action.” I kneel and work my tongue around his ass, then into his front hole. My lips surround his t-cock (the least pronounced I have had in my mouth.) I stand up and sink my cock into Justin. I fuck a few strokes and then stand still. I push the sling away from with my hands on the d-rings. I pull him back onto me. Hard. He grunts. He seems to really like this. I don’t move. I just fuck him onto my cock—pulling him towards me and pushing him away. My hips suddenly take over, without my really thinking about it. I am slamming into him. “Go for the cum shot.” Really? Already? “Don’t cum in my hole—I’m not on testosterone right now.” The producer hands me some paper towel. I hold it in my hand. I go back to fucking him. When I think I’m close, I dip down to taste the hole. The amount of wetness on my tongue sends me over the edge. I stand up, wadding the towel in his front hole, out of camera line (I hope), and stroke off a big load that covers his abdomen and t-cock. “And cut.” It’s all business now. I wash a little, dress and pack the sling up. Justin and I get it downstairs to the front foyer. “Here.” It’s the producer coming towards the front door from the kitchen. He hands me my check. I smile and thank him. I pocket it—grateful for the car payment I just made in no time at all. This shoot is still waiting to be edited. There are a couple of stills (like the one above here.) More...

Thanks......Things really picked up for me in August. My work load lessened and I had more time to get back to my piggish ways...

Thanks... I'd be happy to work you over....

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Near Home—August, 2013 The beginning of August found me back at the bookstore. It happened to be the same night one of *****’s minions was there… I am sitting in the straight theatre, but it’s all gay sex happening. There are seven of us in the dark room. I am sitting on the end of the couch. The chairs are pushed against the side walls. Moments ago, all of us were simply stroking, furtively eyeing each other. Now all sorts of couplings have erupted. To my right, two daddies were sitting on either side of a college guy. The boy is now down on his knees, sucking the two older cocks, giving them equal time. Two guys sit to my left, too. They are now stroking each other. Soon, one stands up, thrusting his cock into the other’s mouth. I am rampant. I jerk—staring mostly at the boy on the floor. The daddy who is not currently in the boy’s mouth stands up. He walks towards me. He wears an olive drab A-shirt, covering his well-developed chest. Hair tufts out the top of the fabric. His cut-offs are splayed open so his heavy cock swings free. He has army boots on his feet, just like me. I can’t take my eyes off his left shoulder. There, in Old English script, is a tattoo reading “999.” “Suck this.” He stands, feet apart and hands on hips, demanding service, right in front of me. I lean forward and take him into my mouth. He instantly begins pumping into my face. His hands find my ears, holding me in place. I think he’s going to shoot. But, no. He just likes to be as deep into me as possible. He holds his cock in place, pulls out and fucks my mouth shallowly, then goes in until he mashes his pubes into my nose. The thickness of his cock produces that thick, deep-throat spittle in the back of my throat. As he pulls out of my mouth, it covers my goatee in long strands. To the other guys, I’m sure it looks like he shot his load. Mr. 999 pulls me up. He kisses me hungrily, cleaning my mouth and beard. My cock presses against his wet one. He looks down. That’s all it takes—he’s on his knees, greedily taking me to the hilt. I notice his hands do that reflexive move of going behind his back. Fuck being the sub—I am in charge. “Suck my cock!” I tell him. “All the way to the balls.” But he’s already there. I can feel his beard stubble against my low hangers. “Now the head. Get your tongue in my fucking slit.” My voice is low. Insistent. Commanding. His left hand grips his right wrist to keep his hands in place. “Yes, Sir,” he mumbles, his words barely audible with my meat in his mouth. It’s my turn to grab his head and fuck his face. The college kid has stopped fellating the other Dad. He sits on the floor watching me. I pull away and sit back down on the couch, my pants around my ankles. “Here, boy.” I lift my ball sack slightly. “Get your tongue between my balls and my cockring.” He has to crawl to get there. And he does, pulling himself across the dried cum on the floor from earlier in the day. His face is buried now, right where I told him to go. He does it—he gets his tongue wedged between the tight metal band and my furry balls. I let him lap and suckle. I lean back and push his head down. His tongue goes right on down my perineum. Is he hesitating about licking my asshole? I don’t let him decide. I just push him the rest of the way down. His tongue connects. I groan. He moans. He pushes deep. “Eat me out,” I mutter. He is grunting and spitting, making my hole as wet as possible. When I tire of his rim job, I pull him up. He thinks I’m leaning forward to kiss him, but I spit in his mouth. This makes him groan louder. I push him to the floor. “Lick my boots.” He pulls the right foot towards him. His tongue is doing it right, pressing hard to massage my foot through the leather. I watch him clean the toes, the tongue, and how he lifts it to try for the heel. “Do the other.” He switches to my left. The young college guy is watching, his eyes large. He stands and steps out of his shorts. His t-shirt gets thrown on a chair. He comes toward me. He turns and pulls a chair from the wall. He bends, supporting himself on the chair. His ass is right there. I can’t quite reach it, but the request is obvious. I turn to Mr. 999. I try to pull my left foot out of his grasp. In the moment it takes before I can get up, the Daddy the boy had been sucking stands and has his cock up the boy’s butt. The boy grunts, but takes the raw cock willingly. His hand jerks his own cock as the Daddy plows. It only takes a few strokes until he shoots jet after jet of cum on the floor. He pulls abruptly away from the Daddy, not letting him finish. I stretch down and scoop up some of the boy’s cum. I smear it on my boot. “Clean it.” Mr. 999 doesn’t hesitate at all. He greedily cleans my boot of the viscid cum. “Now the rest.” There are three or four large patches of fresh cum from the college guy on the grungy floor. He crawls away from me. He licks up each puddle. On the last one, he sits back on his haunches and shows me the cum on his tongue. He makes a show of swallowing it. I stand. “Stay.” I step to him. “Open.” He tries to take my cock in his mouth. I push him back. I shoot all over his face. It’s in his eyebrow, up his nose, with most of it landing in his mouth and beard stubble. I stand there. “Now shoot.” He jerks himself as he licks up the cum he can reach on his face. He grunts. And my left boot is covered again. I let him recover for a second, then push his face into the cummy mess he’s made. My left boot in on the back on his neck. “Now clean it up…” *****’s minion grunts his agreement. His tongue leaves me spit shined. And happy. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Near Home—July, 2013 I ended my July sexploits with yet another trip to the bookstore on the last Friday night of the month. I am sitting in the gay theatre. I am currently alone. My cock is wet. I have been letting a man suck it. He was attractive enough—mid 40’s, in decent shape and with a real cock hunger. His teeth were only an occasional hazard, but it was pretty good head. He never stopped jerking himself as he slurped and swallowed my dick. It came to an end as he shot his load onto the floor. There is now a viscid puddle of cum glinting between my boots. I look up at the screen. I hate the porn which is playing—bad acting, carefully rehearsed body placement with passionless, wrapped fucking. I stand and try to get my hard, damp cock back into my jock strap. I finally give up and just button the pants at the waist and let the fly tent. A muffled moan comes through the venting grate that separates the gay theatre from the straight theatre. I head out and around. I am buzzed into the other dark space. It’s alive with people. A straight couple sits on the couch. They are not particularly attractive, but the hottest man in the room, is sitting next to them. His hand is deep between her legs. Two guys sit against the far wall jerking. The main event is certainly another straight couple. She is kneeling on the seat of a chair. She is being plowed by a man, old enough to be her dad, who is grunting his release as I shut the door. Her husband is to one side, holding her, playing with her naked breasts and making sure her head doesn’t get slammed into the cinder block wall with the violent fucking she’s receiving. She is attractive with short blond hair. Her denim skirt is pulled up around her waist. Her pastel top lies in a twisted pile on the floor. The daddy fucking her pulls out. He’s shot into the condom. He pulls it off rather roughly. The woman turns and sits in the chair. “You want him to pour that on you?” asks her husband. “Oh, yes.” The daddy looks confused for a moment, but then pours the contents of the used rubber on to her breasts. She massages his cum into her exposed tits. A younger Black man steps forward. The husband gives him a rubber. The new fucker rips it open, and rolls it down a long, thin cock. The woman gets up and resumes her kneeling position. The young man inserts. He instantly starts to piston into her. He grunts “I’m cumming” in no time at all. Once again her breasts are doused in cum from the used condom. I move away from the door and sit on her side of the room. I pull out my turgid cock and stroke. The hot man from the couch stands up and adds his cum load onto her breasts as well, but live. He jerks a big load on her already sticky front. She thanks him and reaches for his dripping cock. He’s too sensitive for her to touch it and pulls away. A guy about my age, sitting next to the screen, stands up. His cock swings free from his shorts. He’s big. Easily my size. The husband looks at the cock approaching his wife. “I don’t have any large sized condoms.” “I’ve got my own.” He pulls out a Magnum. “Honey, you want a big one?” She doesn’t respond, she just gets back up her knees. The man rips open the foil pack and makes a show of getting the Magnum on his big cock. The husband hands him some lube. Mr. Big Dick greases up then slips into the woman. He is a great fucker. You can tell by watching him. You can hear it in her voice as she responds to not just being a receptacle. He varies his pace, and the angle of his thrusts. He pulls out and slaps his encased cock against her. He’s right back in. His pace is now in high gear. The room fills with the slap of flesh on flesh. It’s loud enough they must be able to hear it out in the video sales area. The fucker pulls out. “Turn around.” She does. Just in time to take his first shot on the chin. The rest of his load goes all over her breasts. They talk a little as the man cleans up with paper towel from this pocket. It’s the couple’s first time here. They came on a Friday to avoid the Saturday couples night. “If I’d known it would be this much fun,” she chirped, “we’d have come here years ago.” The man leaves. The older, less attractive couple leaves with him. There are just the two strokers left. And me. The husband looks at them. One, then the other, shakes his head. The husband turns to me. After my FTM experiences, I’d been considering it. But not after I heard him say he had no Magnums. And neither do I. I tell him so. “I don’t think I can take any more tonight, honey,” she tells her husband. He helps her get cleaned up and dressed. He finally has a mound in his pants as he watches her get the cum off her breasts. I hope he goes home and fucks her used hole until he unloads. They leave, all smiles. I watch the porn for a while. The other guys leave. No one else arrives. I head next door to the gay theatre. There is another couple, two men, both with pants around their ankles, going at it on the couch. One is the mostly cute young man I’d fucked a few weeks ago (who had the unfortunate drip after he’d pulled off me.) His partner is an older Black man. Flecks of grey are at his temples. His shirt is open and the young man is twisting his thick right nipple. His other hand is jerking a thick, curved cock. The older man is squeezing the young one’s balls. They smile at me. I let my pants fall as I stand before them. They look at my hard cock, but make no move for it. I wait. The hell with it. I drop to my knees. I take first one then the other into my mouth. I revel in the contrasts: Black and White, older and younger, thick and curved vs. thin and slightly curved. I have the Black guy close very fast. He shoots down my throat while his cry on release is muffled by his face being buried in the young man’s neck. He unceremonious stands up and moves away the moment I’m done swallowing. The young man is jerking, his T-shirt pulled up to his neck. I try to take his cock into my mouth, but he pushes my head down to lick his balls. The moment I connect with them he shoots all over his smooth chest. I reach for my cock, but it’s too late, I don’t shoot. The young man sighs and pats my head. It’s dead the rest of my time there. I never find a hungry cock sucker to take care of me. But I do spend a long time stroking on the couch, thinking about the exhibitionists of the night… More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Near Home—July, 2013 Once again I used the bookstore as the easiest way to get off during my busy summer… There is no one there. Well, there is one doddering old man who relentlessly shuffles back and forth between the two theatres. There were cars in the parking lot, but the men must be in the arcade. They certainly aren’t here. Fortunately the porn is good. I sit in the straight theatre and watch large muscle men have anal sex with petite women. There is lots of ass to mouth for the women. And one of the men, used in over half of the scenes, cannot keep his handsome face out of each woman’s ass. I am particularly aroused when the finale has two men—one white and one black—taking turns on a tiny Hispanic woman. The door opens. I don’t bother trying to hide my erection. I just continue stroking. I glance over. The man is in the farthest corner behind the door. The usual spot guys go to when they want to be sucked in a semi-private space. I look at him again. No big deal. He’s a pretty typical man in later middle age, wearing shorts and a baggy shirt. But he’s not standing there to be trade. He’s standing there to get dressed. The baggy shirt comes off over his head. A frilly blouse is beneath it. He drops the Bermuda shorts to the floor. His pink panties are thong cut. A skirt is rolled up around his waist. He rolls it down. It hits just above the knee. His shoes are sandals that are rather gender neutral. From his bust he removes a blond wig, cut in a short page boy style. I look at him get it in place, covering his thinning hair. He rolls the two outer garments together, than carefully parades to the chairs directly across from me. He sits demurely. He crosses his legs at the ankle and feigns great concentration on the movie. Soon the looks begin. He sneaks glances at my swollen meat. He never lets them linger very long. When I catch him, I smile but he won’t return it. I just keep stroking and go back to the movie. The door buzzes. It’s the old man. He looks at me. He looks at the man (who would fool no one in his drag.) The old man mutters under his breath and shuffles out the door. I stroke. His hand kneads a bulge under his skirt. The door buzzes. It’s a hot looking guy in his mid-40’s. He has short, dark hair and is wearing a dingy T-shirt, cargo pants and sandals. He sits on the couch which is between where the two of us sit, plastered against one wall or the other. He looks at me. He looks at the man. He looks back at me and unzips. I can’t see his cock, but he’s stroking from the moment he’s pulled it out. The guy in drag looks over. His hand disappears up his skirt. I look back at the screen. I watch the two men on the screen reverse who’s in her ass and who’s in her mouth. I sense movement across from me and look over at the other two. The guy in drag is on the floor giving the hot guy head. Damn. That was amazingly fast. I wonder if they know each other. There is a grunt. I can’t tell who made it—but someone just came. It’s the guy in drag. He gets up carefully and goes back to his dressing spot. His load is shiny and white on the dark tile, reflecting the light from the television screen. He reverses the process and reverts to his everyday appearance. He leaves. The guy on the couch slides closer to me. I go over and stand in front of him. I’m glad he moved down so I’m not standing in the other guy’s load. His handsome face is immediately pressed to my pelvic bone. He has me all the way down his throat. Eventually he comes up for air, flopping back into the couch. I kneel. I pull the cargo pants down so I can get at his cock. Jesus. Maybe they did know each other. He’s wearing women’s underwear as well, his in light blue. I pull his cock around the silky material, and take his small dick into my mouth. My finger snakes under him and finds his ass. He likes the attention to his cock, but the sigh as my finger plays around his hole tell me what I need to know. I pull him toward me, and raise his legs in the air. The blue strip of thong material is no match for my tongue—it can’t protect his hole. I am pushing into it, rimming him deep. I can’t hold him that way for too long. He flips over, so he’s on all fours. I get lost in his lightly haired ass. I stand. My cock slaps his ass. “I can’t,” he moans. “Yeah?” “Yeah.” He swings around into a seated position. “I’ve been fucked too many times today.” I nod and sit next to him. I guess the real reason is he wants a condom. “Would you jerk off on my ass?” He’s already squirming around, assuming I’m going to say yes. He’s back to kneeling on the couch, his head cradled in his arms on the back. The way the evening is going, I guess this is the best I’ll get. I stand and slap his ass—which still has the T of the thong running down his crack. I spit on my palm and slather it on my cock. I stroke. He’s busy talking—telling me how he wants my big cock another time. How his ass could easily take a man my size. How I need to fuck his pansy ass. I shoot. It’s the only time I’ve shot this week—it’s a big load. He makes more noise than I do. I watch his hand reach back. He smears my cum all over his hairy cheeks—then starts working it up his hole. Damn—I was wrong about his wanting latex. He works most of my load into his ass. He’s missed one spurt—I swab it down to his hole and let him push it into his man hole. The blue material of the thong strap is now sopping with my jizz. I mop up the remainder on my palm. The man digs into his wallet. He gives me his business card. I hope to get my cum into him, directly, the next time we meet. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Rural Rest Area Near Home—July, 2013 When I started having gay sex, I just wanted to suck cock. But even the night I lost my virginity with a man; the guy took one look at my big, hard cock and sat on it. I mean, the thirty years with my partner were pretty much all about mutual oral sex. Of course we tried everything in that length of time together, but oral sex was to what we always returned. Now, there are still days that sucking is really the only kind of sex I want to have. I have learned that sometimes it’s best to keep my cock in my pants as I suck. No temptations. There is an “unimproved” rest area off the beaten track near my home. It is favored by truck drivers and farmers with only an occasional family. Last year it was a good place for relief with my busy summer. For some reason, I barely went to it this year. The one time there I met up with Bill. (He has made a brief appearance in these pages here. I have said before, I love to fuck ass that I perceive as my age or younger. I love to suck the cock of a man who is older than me. As I age, it’s getting harder to find men to even vaguely be a “daddy,” but Bill is perfect at 66 or 67. His years of growing up working a farm show in his sinewy arms. He’s stayed trim. He has a goatee and a fringe of white hair. His face is weathered from the sun and from the cigarettes that he has now given up. Usually in jeans and a plaid shirt, in the heat of July, he was in an A-shirt that showed off his arms and the top tufts of the hair on his chest. And there’s his cock. Thick and meaty. It hooks down sharply. If I am on my knees in front of him, it goes right down my throat at the perfect angle. I am sitting in my car, with half an ear on the classical programing on NPR, reading a play by Enda Walsh. It’s warm, but not nearly as hot as some Julys in Michigan. The rest area is hopping. It is mid-week—the guys have found an excuse to get out of the house. The problem is that there are so many people here, you can’t do anything. Some stroll to the pit toilet, then go back to their vehicle and drive off—lingering at the intersection, hoping someone will follow them to some lonesome place. I have seen no one that inspires me to want to do that. I go to the water pump. I fill my water bottle. I hear a larger vehicle arrive. It’s Bill. I sit back in my car and wait for him to make the obligatory pit stop. When he comes out, he heads for the pump—which means he has to pass my car. “Hello there, stranger.” His voice is deep and gruff. It’s been almost a year since we’ve seen each other. “How are you?” “I need you.” He hefted the waistband of his jeans, pulling the fabric taut around his obviously hard cock. “But not here.” “Where do you think?” “The lake. Follow me.” He gets back in his pickup. I follow him to a manmade lake—one that had been a byproduct of making the highway. He backs into on overgrown parking space. I pull in and get out of my car. You can hear kids in the water a long ways away, but there is no one near us. Bill is eager. He has his jeans open by the time I jump into the cab. “I’ll keep watch.” I get to work. It’s cramped in the front seat of the truck, but from the look of things, I won’t be here long. I lick around the head and swallow the whole shaft down. I have to twist slightly to get the hook to lodge as I like it. I come up for air and go down two or three times. This time he holds me in place and fucks into my ovaled mouth. I think he’s going to shoot, but he holds off. “Let me see yours.” I undo my pants. I am hard from servicing him. He gives me a few preliminary licks. Then he takes me until he gags. The angle is bad, so Bill only gets about half my cock. I lean back over, adjust to the best angle, and let him fuck into my mouth. This time he shoots. Hooked in place. Spewing his seed directly into my gut. “Damn. You are the only guy I let do that.” I come up and look at him. “Well, there’s one other” he amends. “I wouldn’t let most of those guys touch me.” I thank him. “I didn’t do anything with another guy until we met a couple of years ago.” “Did you ever want to—growing up?” “I thought about it. But it was too much hassle. I got married by nineteen.” He thinks a moment. “I wasted a lot of time…” We both let that sentence hang in the air. A car is coming down the gravel path to where we are—we can hear it though not see it yet. We both are zipped up and pulled together by the time the junker pulls past us on the way to the fishing spot. ***** I saw Bill again in August, almost immediately after the playroom was set back up. He looked at all the apparatus—the sling, the fuck bench, the rimseat—but said nothing. We played on the bed. It was nice to be naked with him, but it was over for him just as fast. He hooked his cock down my throat and I got another gut full. “Did I tell you I’m getting my dick fixed?” “No,” I sounded surprised, even to my ears. “That curve. The doc says he can straighten it. I fell off a bike as a kid and the seat hit me—causing all that scar tissue. That’s what makes it hook.” “Right.” “He says he can take it all out and it’ll be straight after all these years.” I smiled encouragingly. He seemed so pleased. He must have hated it all these years—the very thing that I loved the most about sucking him… More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... West Side of Michigan—July, 2013 “I know you have no time,” the producer of the transmale porn site wrote me, “but I have a guy who’s moving away this month. He wants to talk to you about doing a scene before he goes.” I agreed to have a talk with the transman about seeing if we were compatible. Within an hour I received a text arranging a time to have a phone chat. It was a wary conversation at first. Michael was sure I either couldn’t or wouldn’t want to do the things that got him off. “I like a guy to take charge. To use me as he wants.” I explained that was pretty much how I played. I asked about kink. "I’m open to about anything. I love that you have a sling. I can be fisted in both holes.” “How about watersports?” I asked. “Oh, yeah.” “Good.” “I’ve always said just treat me like a sub gay man and we’ll both get what we need.” We talked a little more and found we both had a three hour block of time to do it. Early on a Sunday morning, I made the trip to the producer’s home. The set-up is the same—the bed and the sling at the foot of it. As it works out, Michael has no interest in doing anything on a bed. To keep him happy, we simply start with me ordering him to the floor, and the hood goes on… “Kneel.” We are at the foot of the sling. I am in my leathers—Michael is naked. The camera is filming from Michael’s back. I hand him the hood. He needs to keep his face off the screen. The black cloth goes over his head. There are holes for his eyes and mouth. “Now suck my cock.” He opens wide and takes my helmet head into his mouth. It is incredibly hot to see my cock go into this hooded man. He is 34, maybe 5’ 8” with a nice body. His hairy legs are folded under him. His hands have gone instinctively behind his back. I push deeper into his mouth. My hands find his ears and hold him in place as I face fuck him. I get the wrist restraints off the with sling chains. I buckle his right wrist, then his left. “In the sling.” He hops in. He knows his way around a sling. I snap the restraints to the chains above his head. I get his legs situated in the stirrups. I let out a grunt of appreciation as I look at his two holes. I kneel and lick at his t-cock. He squirms and gasps. I sink lower and explore his front hole with my tongue. I dip lower and poke just as deep into his ass. This makes him groan louder yet. I am ready to fuck. I stand up and slap my cock on his genital mound. I deftly pull back and slide home into his front hole. “Damn!” I fuck deep for several strokes, pull out, slap my cock on his mound again and push my way back into the splayed hole. After several more strokes, I pull out and bring it up to his mouth. “Taste yourself.” He does. With obvious pleasure. I move back around to the foot of the sling and sink my now wetter cock into him to the hilt. I fuck for a long time—hard and fast, followed by languid strokes while I play with his t-cock, to just standing still and pulling the sling to me and then pushing it away. I want to explore more of his ass. I pull out of his front hole. “You want some piss?” I spray his ass with my hard cock, not waiting for a reply. I then bury my face into the dripping hole. I am pushing some of my piss into his ass with my tongue. I lick it out and spit it back. Soon my raw cock pushes into the drenched hole. It’s tight, but he has control. By the time I’m done, he has loosened up. “I want you tighter.” I grab the egg-headed dildo. I rest it on him so he can see it. I pour lube on it and cover the silicone toy. I slap it against his t-cock. It inches down his body until it is pushing into his front hole. He gasps at the size of the head, but then the more slender shaft is easy to take. I saw it in and out for a moment. Then I leave it sticking obscenely out of his hole. My cock is rock hard. I slip it into his ass. It feels so good. I can feel the toy pushing against the thin membrane that separates the two holes. He is back to being incredibly tight. It feels a lot like two dicks in the same hole. “Cut. I want that from below.” I had almost forgotten he was there. I pull out and we film my entry into his ass again, this time with the camera underneath. He holds a small light in his other hand which puts out incredible amounts of heat. I fuck him a lot in the ass. I can’t get over the feeling of fucking the hole with toy there, but not right in the same hole with me. “Give him your fist.” The director sets back up topside, off to the left. We take a quick break. When we are re-set, I grease my hands and go for his ass. I work slowly—one, two three fingers. Four and rotate. But I can never quite get the bridge of the hand into him. “Give it to me in my front hole.” I re-lube. I do the same progression, but my hand is easily taken to the wrist. I move ever so slightly. He reacts. I touch his t-cock, with my other hand, keeping the one hand buried deep. I keep it up until he gets off. “We need your cum shot. All over the front hole and stick it in after.” I nod, checking with Michael. He nods in full agreement. I bend and lick the hole where my hand was—savoring the taste and the feel on my tongue. I rear up and shoot. It’s a good sized load. It coats the entire area. I use my dick head to pull some down so I can sink it into the front hole. The sensation of going in after I’ve shot is almost more than I can take. I am on sensory overload, but I manage to pull out and scoop some more in with my cock. “Cut.” And another video shoot is done… We clean up. I get my check. It’s the same bigger figure as last time, but he’s added travel money. I could get used to this… This shoot is still waiting to be edited, but there are several stills on the website. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Near Home—July, 2013 With the playroom down and my spare time at a premium, the bookstore became the easiest place to find relief during my busy summer months. I walk into the gay theatre. At first, I think no one is in the room. It’s dark. The scene in the film is dark and trying for romance, so it makes the room even darker. I open the door a little more. There is a lone man sitting in the corner. I feel my way along the far wall. I find a chair with my shin. I sit. I’m on the opposite side of the room from the other occupant. He is hard to see across the gloom. His eyes seem to be only on the screen, his hands in his lap. Not stroking. I watch the movie. Oh, please let them fuck and stop making them say lines of dialogue. Eventually the scene on screen builds to an amazing ass being eaten by the hung top. It’s good enough to get me hard. I unbutton and stroke. I shoot a look over to the other man. He’s not stroking, but he seems to be kneading his bulge. I can see him a little better, now that my eyes have adjusted to the dim room. He’s younger than I, maybe late 30’s. He’s thin, wearing a t-shirt with a logo on it that I can’t make out. His long legs are stretched out in front of him, with his head is resting on the back of the couch. I can’t make out the expression on his face. On screen, the cock goes into the gorgeous ass. My attention goes back to watching a few minutes of that amazing ass getting plowed. The guy to my side, and slightly behind me, stands up. I wait for that touch on my shoulder. Nope, he’s leaving the room. I sit and stroke totally alone. I wonder if anyone new has gone in on the straight side. About the time I think I’ll put away my cock and check, our door swings open. I glance behind me. It’s the same guy. He’s back. I can actually hear the toilet refilling down the hall. He shuts the door firmly. He sprawls back on the leatherette couch. Are his legs spread wider than they were before? He undoes his belt and unzips. He is holding his hand so I can’t see his cock, but I know it’s out of his pants. We stroke. And stroke. Finally, I walk over, standing between his spread legs. He looks up into my face. He’s cute in a slightly off beat way. He says nothing; he just takes his hand away from his ample cock. I kneel and take him to the root. It has a slight curve to the side that makes it harder to suck. I manage a few times and then switch to his balls. They are hairy and full. They roll around in their sack. He strokes as I nuzzle into that sweaty, crinkled skin. His hand goes from his cock to the top on my head, stopping me. He’s close. I stand up. He shucks off his jeans. He pulls me down onto the couch. He bends over and sucks me. It’s a bad angle and he knows it. He stops. He swings a leg over me and is straddling me. He just wanted to get my cock wet. His ass is sinking down on my raw cock before I can say anything. He rides me, his cock flopping across my A-shirt. Then he holds still and I fuck up into him. He feels wonderful. He’s tight. And he knows how to work his butt. When we both need to slow down, he slides up and off me. He brings his cock to my mouth. I hungrily take it in. Then I feel it. His ass is dripping onto my A-shirt. He looks down. “Oh, my God…” We become flustered. He gets off me quickly, but not easily. I reach for the paper towels in my pants pocket, but the pants are now down around my boots. He grabs a proffered towel and kicks into his jeans. He keeps apologizing. I say no problem…but I’m not sure I believe it. He’s out the door and into the bathroom before I can mop at my shirt. I sigh. I eventually get into the bathroom. I am done for the night. Blueballed . This is why, I remind myself as I reach for my car keys, I don’t usually fuck at bookstores. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Near Home—July, 20113 12:45am This posts picks up immediately after the last two. “I run a porn site about transmen. I’ll pay you.” I just look at him. “Really?” "Yeah. Wanna make some porn?” I don’t even think twice. Why not? We head out, leaving the theatre together. The bookstore clerk smirks at me, thinking he knows just what we are off to do. I follow them in my own car. It feels like it takes forever to get to his house, but in reality, it’s not that far. It’s just getting late. We go in to his large, but typical house in a newer subdivision. We stand around the kitchen as the producer, the large man who I once thought was the boyfriend, fills out the various forms. I prove I’m over 18 (really?). I sign model agreements and papers about profit sharing. I give him my porn name—Charles Wolfe. Jaman and I take our HIV tests and have our pictures taken with the results. He goes off to shower and clean up for the shoot. The producer and I talk a little about my blog. I ask how many shoots he’s done; he’s has three waiting to be edited. The producer’s impressed I’ve actually done porn. The college guys he got before were pretty hit or miss. He tells me Daddies are big in transmale porn. I drop the fact that my sling is in the trunk of my car. He loves this idea as it will give him better camera angles. I go out to the car and get it. We haul it up the stairs to the big bedroom. I set it up and then go shower myself. When I step out of the steamy bathroom, the lights trees are up and pointing at the bed. “I thought we’d start on the bed. After fucking there for a bit, you’ll invite him to get in the sling.” I agree. We sit for a moment waiting for Jaman to appear. I look around the plain beige room now transformed into his set. The equipment is good. Someone has invested some real money in this site. Jaman comes in from the big bathroom. “Let’s get started.” He explains to Jaman what he just told me. We make our selves comfortable, propped up on pillows against the wall. We are already naked so we pretty much just start. He’s a good kisser. I get him down on my cock. He sucks noisily. I pull him up to kiss him again. “Ride him,” prompts the producer. Jaman climbs aboard my cock, facing me. I look even bigger than usual as this fairly small person lowers himself onto me. I let him do the work for awhile, then grab him around the waist and fuck up into him. I am ready to move around to a traditional missionary position as the producer stops us and switches us so Jaman is riding me, facing the camera. He gets a close up of my cock splitting him open. He brings a light in with the camera. The heat is intense on my balls and thighs. We fuck missionary. We sixty-nine a little. “Ok. Do the invite.” “I really want him to sit on my face first.” “Great. But get your head down here.” He thumps the foot of the bed. I sprawl in that direction and Jaman settles onto my face with a moan. I work my tongue back and forth between his holes, my fingers on his t-cock. I am pretty sure I get him off. I roll out from under. “I’d really like to get you in my sling. Do you want to?” Jaman nods. “Cut!” Lights are shifted from the bed to the sling. We never really stop playing. I idly fuck him until we are ready to go. Once he is positioned in the sling, I concentrate on anal sex. I eat his ass. I spit into opened hole. I fuck it hard. Then I do it all again in close up. I spend more time licking his T-cock. He squirms with the intense stimulation. I rise and slap my cock onto the wet mound. “You want this big cock back in your pussy?” “Cut!” We stop. “Don’t call it that, go back and say ‘front hole.’” I nod, lesson learned. “You want this big cock back in your front hole?” “Please.” I slide in. And I fuck with some nice chain rattling. Then we film it from below, the light intense on our bare skin. We break. I lean in to kiss Jaman. He asks for me go back and forth from ass to front hole. Repeatedly. Can I do that? I grin. And he gives me that grin that made me so hot for him in the first place. “Ok. Battery is changed. Are you ready to cum?” “Close,” I tell him. “You know the kind of thing. Cum on his front hole then push it inside.” “Got it.” I insert in his ass. I do a couple of strokes, then pull out and move right up to the other. I fuck a few strokes there, then go back to the ass. Jaman is loving this. So is the producer, actually. I keep it up. Then announce my cum shot. After all the hours of play, I have built up a big load. I shoot it over his front hole. It drips down onto his ass as well. I push in, truly breeding him. I pull out and push even more of my spunk into him. “Cut. Damn.” The producer puts the camera down and comes around between Jaman’s legs. He looks enquiringly at Jaman, who nods at him. He shoots a load onto him as well. *** I’m packing up. “I want to use you again,” the producer tells me. “You are a natural.” I thank him. He hands me my check. It’s for more than we’d agreed. I thank him again. I kiss Jaman goodbye and head out into the early morning hours of the new day. For those who want the link for Trans Male Erotica: http://www.transmaleerotica.com/main.html More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Near Home—June, 2013 11:30pm This post picks up immediately after the last one. “Do you want to get fucked?” The older man whispers it in the cute young man’s ear, but loud enough for me to hear it too. The young man nods. I lube my cock a little, as he stands up and drops his pants. He sits right back down and his hand finds his boyfriend’s. I want to eat this guy out. I kneel in the darkened room, the boyfriend reaches across and holds the young man’s legs high in the air. I find his ass with my tongue. He gasps as I go deep into him. I love the taste of his young hole. He is pushing himself onto my face. I rear up and slap my cock on his hole. I’m confused for a moment. The boy has only the tiniest cock. Wait he has…my brain makes an adjustment. There is a rather full labia around another hole right above the ass I was eating. I push my cock into the transman’s ass… “Fuck him with that big dick.” It’s the boyfriend. “He loves it up the ass. I sink into him with my entire length. He grins up at me. I am close enough to his face to watch his eyes roll up into his head as I repeatedly pound into him. I think I could cum—from the unexpected factor—and all the fucking before they came into the room. I slow down to make it last. “Do you want to try a double?” The boyfriend seems to be ready to fuck now. I pull out. The bearded young man gets up. I hug him. He hefts my cock and mouths the word “Wow.” The boyfriend lies down on the faux leather couch. The young man moves around and straddles his cock with his front hole. He leans forward waiting for me to enter him. I move around. They are so far into the middle of the couch, I can’t get up and over to slip in. I tell them to move towards the end of the couch. They do. The mound of the young ass is now in front of me. I kneel for a second to watch the BF fuck. I stand and slip in the other hole. We are doing DP for a moment. Then the BF flops out. I continue fucking until the door buzzes. I am right in the entrance path. I pull out and let the new man into the room. He stops dead as he sees the slim ass in the air. His hand immediately starts to knead the front of his Bermuda shorts. He’s built big, the powerful kind of big. A former foot baller is my guess. His wide handsome face twists into lust. “Is that ass up for grabs?” he asks. I look to the cutie still straddling the older man beneath him. The young one nods. The top who shared the Mexican guy comes over to stroke and watch. The new guy has his dick out. I nod to him to go ahead. The foot baller spits on his dick. “Has anyone been up this ass tonight?” “I have.” “You cum in there?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. He is in the ass. “Fuck, yeah. You are a hot boy.” I smile as I stroke. He has no idea… “You go back up him.” The footballer pulls out. “Fuck him good,” he says to the room. Then he whispers in my ear, “You should cum up there. I want to eat your load off your cock after you pull out.” I fuck hard. The footballer keeps telling me to cum. But suddenly he is the one shooting. He covers the floor with a huge load, I could only wish he’d shot up the boy. I slow down, and have to disengage to let him get out the door. The top I had played with first goes along after him. We take a break, now alone in the theatre. I am sitting back in my original place. After all the fucking we introduce ourselves. The BF turns out to be only a friend named Harry. The transman, Jayman, tells me he’s here from the west coast. I tell him I’m glad he wondered into the theatre. Jayman grins. “I want you in my front hole.” I nod. I slide down to the floor. His legs are wide. I push his legs up and my tongue goes back to his ass for a moment. I take a moment, telling myself to get to it. I move to the mound of T-cock (though I didn’t know enough to call it that at the time.) It fits entirely in my mouth. My tongue is obviously doing something right. I stay plastered to the miniature cock (the testosterone shots make it grow.) Jayman shivers and grinds into my face. My tongue inches down. I lick his front hole, deep and long. “Fuck him.” It’s Harry. “Put that big cock in there.” I stand up and bend forward. I am in. I look huge entering this thin young man. I fuck. But I’m slipping backward on the slick, cummy floor. I finally have to stop or I’ll topple onto him. I sit down. Jayman takes my cock in his mouth. Before I even know it, he straddles me and starts to ride my cock. It feels great. “You may make me cum,” I pant. “Wait a minute.” It’s Harry. I slow down. “We have been trying to shoot some video today. Do you want to come back the house?” “For the two of you?” I ask. “Well, no. I run a porn site about transmen. I’ll pay you.” I just look at him. “Really?” “Yeah. Wanna make some porn?” To be continued… More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Near Home—June, 2013 at 9:00pm This is the first part of a three part entry. The second will be my 300th post for this blog. I can’t quite believe that. I didn’t plan it that way; it is just how it fell out as I recorded my play dates this summer. The play room had been packed away since the first of the month. The sling was stored in the trunk of my car so it could go with me, if I found time for a quick hookup. The rest was stored in my cramped bedroom or in various suitcases in the attic. On the last Friday of the month, I had a surprise evening off. As usual, when I had time, I could find no one online who could host or had the time. I didn’t spend all night fruitlessly searching. I got in the car and headed to the closest bookstore. I bought the combo pass for both the straight and the gay theatres. As it turned out, I never left the straight theatre for the next three hours. The porn is good. I always love to watch a couple of guys on one woman. The crowd is restless. Not a huge crowd, but there are always two or three in the place with me. They just aren’t playful this early in the evening. They are a good mixture of guys I recognize from this place and guys I’ve never seen. The seven new armchairs line the side walls, pressed against the black cinderblock. The three person couch sits low to the ground for me, but it’s the only padded seat in the house. It’s also the easiest way for a guy to sit next to me and lean over to sample the cock I’m stroking. My pants are open and I’m rampant. I haven’t shot a load in seven days. I stroke. There are two other guys in the room. The older man has his dick out. He flogs it continually, but it never seems to stand up for him. He shoves it into his pants and leaves. The younger man looks at me. I look at him, then at my cock, then back to him. He starts to unzip himself. The door buzzes and three guys stream in. The young man zips up and exits the room for good. I stroke. I get some head from a balding older gentleman. He’s good. He deep throats me once too often and shoots his load between my combat boots. I stroke. Alone again in the theatre. The door buzzes. It’s a young Mexican guy I recognize as a regular. He is always asking for a fucking, but the one time we had played, he hadn’t prepped himself for my big cock. I have been skittish about fucking him again for the last three months. He sits in the chair nearest me. He opens his tan cargo pants and pulls out his rather average cock. He pulls up the bottom of his A-shirt and hooks it behind his head. We stroke in silence. Eyes locked on each other. “Fuck me.” I consider. I am so in need of ass… The door buzzes. In comes a man I don’t know. He’s my age with dark gray hair. He is over dressed for the theatre—he seems to have stopped in after going something where he needed a shirt and tie. The bottom looks at the new arrival. They smile at each other. He knows the guy. He gets up, pants around his ankles. He walks to him and bends over, holding onto the side wall. His round, cinnamon colored ass is towards the both of us. “Fuck me.” The top is already undoing his pants. He takes off his slip on dress shoes and takes the pants all the way off and folds them, putting them on one of the unused chairs. He’s commando under those dress slacks. A nice big cock pokes out from his shirt tails. He looks at me. “You going to fuck him, too?” I don’t say anything. I’m going to wait and see. There’s no foreplay. The top spits on his hand and rubs it over the expanse of his cock. The bottom adds some spit to his hole with his left hand. The top pushes right in. “Damn, you’re tight.” I stroke, still seated. Then I’m on my feet. I play with the top’s nipples through his shirt. I slap the full left cheek of the bottom. The top moves the boy around, never disconnecting, pulling the boy’s hips so he swings him away from the wall. He lines him up so he can suck my cock. The boy hungrily takes it down his throat. We fuck his holes in rhythm. “You need to try this ass.” He pulls out and I move next to him. I reach down and feel his slick cock. It’s spotless. I slide right into the boy. He feels incredible. He is squeezing my cock hard on every other stroke or so. And he’s a pig. He takes the other top into his mouth straight from his ass. The top leans across the back of the boy and hungrily kisses me. His wedding ringed hand reaches up and clutches the back of my head. We kiss deeply, ignoring the man below us who is servicing us. We fall into the same fuck rhythm again. I pull out. “Get up on the chair.” I pull one way from the wall into the center of the room. I can’t believe we have had the place to ourselves. The Mexican kicks off his pants and kneels on the seat. We reverse. The other top glides into his ass, commenting on how hot I’ve made it. I push back into his mouth. After he cleans my cock, I pull out and sit on the floor. I watch the big dick slice into him. “How’s it look down there?” “Great.” “Let me see.” We change places. I slide back up the boy’s ass. The top has been leaking juice like crazy. The hole is really slick now. “That is so hot. Fuck him with that big dick.” I do. We trade off one more time. I am in his mouth when the door buzzer goes off. The bottom springs off the chair as if it were on fire, grabs his pants and retreats into the darkest corner up by the screen. I sit on the couch, fully exposed. The top sits in the chair and covers himself with his dress slacks. An older man comes in leading what I assume is his college age boyfriend. They are holding hands. He seats the young man on the couch, then sits on his right so the boy is between us. The older man instantly slides a hand into the waist band of the young guy’s jeans. He turns to me and smiles. The boy turns to me and smiles more broadly. He is sort of scruffy—but in a good way. He’s bearded, with a slim, lithe body—you can tell, even though he still has his clothes on. I love his smile. You can’t help but return it. “You want to play with him?” asks the new daddy. I nod and smile. The boy bends, and takes my cock into his mouth. It’s a bad angle so I get up so I can get better head. The Mexican takes off, now fully clothed. The previous top watches the action and strokes. The boy takes off his shirt. He has a good chest, though even in the half-light I can see a scar across it. There is a tattoo on his arm. He undoes the top button of his jeans, as there is still his boyfriend’s hand thrust down them. Now the blow job proceeds in earnest. He’s good, too. And hungry. I fuck his face. “Do you want to get fucked?” The older man whispers it in his ear, but loud enough for me to hear it too. The young man nods. I lube my cock a little, as he stands up and drops his pants. He sits right back down and his hand finds his boyfriend’s. I want to eat this guy out. I kneel in the darkened room, the boyfriend reaches across and holds the young man’s legs high in the air. I find his ass with my tongue. He gasps as I go deep into him. I love the taste of his young hole. He is pushing himself onto my face. I rear up and slap my cock on his hole. I’m confused for a moment. The boy has only the tiniest cock. Wait he has… My brain makes an adjustment. There is a rather full labia around another hole right above the ass I was eating. I hesitate. Then push my cock into the transman’s ass… To be continued… More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Fort Wayne, IN—June, 2013 One of the few times I was able to play in the month of June fortunately coincided with an afternoon motel party posted on BBRT. I didn’t recognize the host. I asked if he’d like me to bring the sling (which is always a good way to get an invite.) He agreed and told me to get there about noon. He told me he was expecting about 15 guys. I guessed maybe half that many on his guest list would show up, but decided that could still be a great way to fuck away an afternoon. I find the motel easily. I lug the sling bag up one flight and knock. A man I know opens the door. I wonder where the host is, but I don’t say anything. Eventually it becomes clear—he is the host, using a new profile with a picture I could never have identified as him. And here’s a surprise, his old profile is one of the guests coming to the party. (It’s not a bad thing—I like the guy enough…it’s just an odd thing…) I set up. We wait. And wait. In about 15 minutes, which seem at least twice that, the first tentative knock comes at the door. He comes in, and decides to take a walk until others arrive. He reminds me a professor I had in college, the one who you just knew was gay— that perpetual Peter Pan look of trying to never age, careful to not raise his voice for it might be considered too fey, and who has the softest hands of any man who’s ever touched me. We wait. A friend of the host arrives. He’s tall and lanky and seemingly there to talk to the host and not to have sex. His arrival does bring Peter Pan back in. I coax him out of his clothes. He nicely enough built and hung bigger than many. He can’t take his eyes off my cock. He sucks me for a bit and lets me sample his dick. “Fuck me.” I get him kneeling on the edge of the bed and dive into his ass. It’s the first ass I’ve had in over a week. He tastes great and I love the way he’s responding to my rimming. I lube up. I don’t ask about condoms, fuck it, this party was posted on BBRT. “Oh, yeah, fuck me raw.” Ok, then. I sink in. He takes me easier than I expect. I hold for a second to help him get used to my girth, then begin fucking in earnest. He is all but crawling away from me. His mouth is saying how hot it is, but he is moving away from my cock. I don’t let him go. I just follow him right into the middle of the bed, now kneeling and fucking his upturned ass “Oh. My. God!” He grabs a pillow and buries his face into it to keep the noise down. The two conversationalists have stopped talking and are watching us, fully dressed but with flies open, and dicks jutting out. I fuck, showing off for the on lookers. I pull out and slap my cock on his ass. Oh, no. He can’t have done any kind of preparation at all. I’m caked. I bite back what I’d like to say and simply whisper in his ear to go clean. He’s in the bathroom; I’m at the sink in the room. I soap repeatedly. There are knocks on the door. Three guys come in. I rummage in my bag for a squeeze bulb, and hand it through the bathroom door. But he never uses it. He just finds another top from the new arrivals who fucks him fast in the bathroom, and who shoots just as fast. They both take off. The party goes all oral for the next hour. We are a mass of sucking flesh on the bed. As each guy shoots he dresses and leaves. Soon it’s just the host, the talker and me. A knock. An older man with an extravagant beard and mustache comes in. I have played with him once before in this city. Today his mustache is actually twirled and waxed into points. I feel like Salvador Dali is going down on me. We play a long time for nothing else is happening. He offers his ass and I try, but he’s just too tight. Neither of us is getting any pleasure out of it. I am on the point of packing up the unused sling and leaving. A young Black guy, tall and thin, and bulging in his low slung jeans comes in. He’s followed by another nice looking middle-aged white guy. It’s like middle aged wolves on some young fawn. The host, the talker, Dali and the new guy are ripping the young man’s clothes off. I go over and work his nipples as the four men fight to suck the monster no longer in the Black guy’s pants. But I get the last laugh. “Who wants to fuck me?” the young man asks. I see to be the only top. “With a condom, though,” he adds. I get him in the sling. I eat his hole. Up above me someone is leaning over and sucking his dick--or trying to, it's so damn big. Another mouth is on his nipple. One guy is trying to feed the young man his cock though he’s not quite tall enough to get it up to sling height. Dali is working the young man’s feet by suckling his toes. I roll on the Magnum, lube it and stand up. We make eye contact. I insert slowly. He knows how to work his ass. It is feeling good, even wrapped. I work up to full speed. And he shoots. And he leaves. He’s been here maybe 15 minutes. I pack and take the sling to the car. I come back in for my small bag of lube and stuff. I say my good byes, and there is a knock on the door. I really have to leave now or I will be late for my meeting over dinnertime. The door opens and there is a hot bottom I fucked at the same motel party as where I first met Dali. The bottom is handsome in that old Hollywood way and in his mid 30’s. With him is a top I’ve seen online and never met. He’s ex-Military, with a brush cut and arms that bulge from the sleeves of his tight white t-shirt. I know what I should do. I start for my car, but I’m back in a flash. The new comers have just undressed. The top is laying on the bed, hard and impressive, his legs splayed. The bottom is kneeling on the floor, between those hairy columns. The other guys are contributing where they can or just watching. I just open my jeans—a true zippered fuck. I pull the bottom up so he is straddling the top. I enter him roughly. I pump. I shoot. I pull out. “There’s something for you to fuck in.” They all look pleased. And I go home quite happy. *** The next day I got a message from the hot bottom. "Tony loved your load in me. He fucked in it and fed some of it to me. Yum!" More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Northwest Ohio—June, 2013 Once a week or so I get a message from the bottom I wrote about in “The White Master and the BlackBottom.” He always wants to do it all again. I wrote the Master—he agreed we should meet up again. With my crazy summer starting the next week, I agreed to play with them on my last free weekend. The set up would be the same: we’d meet at a cheap motel, he would invite other tops, and we should degrade the bottom as we fucked him. I knock on the motel room. It’s the same motel, almost the same room—one of those rooms where you don’t really want to walk barefoot on the spotted carpet and you don’t sit naked on the bedspread. The bear of the white Master opens the door. He grins when he recognizes me. Before he can step aside to let me in, I hear, “Make me hard, faggot!” coming from behind him. I step in. A young Black man is slapping his flaccid cock across the Black bottom’s face. He’s tall and well built. The bottom is on all fours on one of the two beds in the room. He takes the young man’s cock into his mouth. He sucks him while I get undressed. The Master lies down on the other bed and watches, stroking his own under inflated dick. I get back into my boots and watch the young man pull out of the bottom’s mouth and take his semi-erect cock around to the boy’s full, round ass. He works and works at getting it in, but it’s not happening. “Fuck him hard,” contributes the Master from the other bed. The young man finally gives up. “I can’t. It’s not so easy now I got a girlfriend.” “She take care of you like this boy used to?” asks the Master. “Yeah, she got it all this morning.” He gets dressed and goes, promising to return in a couple of hours. He never shows. I stick my dick in the bottom’s mouth. The Master, interested now, gets up and watches us. He is stroking his cock, making an occasional comment—but it all seems detached. I get hard but it takes concentration. The lack of sexual energy in the room is noticeable absent. I move around to fuck. I insert. The bottom huffs Maximum impact and goes from grasping my cock with his ass muscles to relaxing and becoming a wide open hole. I fuck him—slapping his ass, hoping I can make him contract his ass muscles that way. What had been a hot fuck a few months ago is now average at best. I watch as the Master takes a turn up the boy. He’s good for a few strokes but goes soft. It’s up to me, it seems. I fuck him again. He does the mix of poppers and MI. The moment he huffs the aerosol, he goes limp and uninvolved. I pull out and wait for him to come back to reality. I take the can away from him and toss it on the other bed. “You are going to take my cock without it.” He looks stricken, but agrees to try. I pull him around to the edge of the bed, so I can stand up to fuck. I enter his ass, hard. I’m not happy with the way this scene is going. He yelps and grabs the poppers. After three thrusts, he is begging me to stop. After two more he falls forward, disengaging us. “I need to take a break.” The Bottom curls into a ball and seems to fall asleep. I look to the Master, he shrugs. The sexual energy meter dips to below zero. A home improvement show is on the television, seemingly on to cover any noise for the room next door. It is showing off the latest basement makeover by some designer I don’t know, but who I’d like to bend over. The Master’s attention seems to be there and not on his boy at all. I flop down next to him. We talk of this and that. The homeowners on the television agonize over carpeting or laminate. The boy is indeed asleep, muffled snores are coming from the other bed. I am hoping the Master might eat my ass as he did on our first meeting. I lead the conversation back to sex. Then out of nowhere comes the question. “Why don’t you fuck me?” he asks. I agree. He pulls himself down to the edge of the bed. He lies on his back, crooking his arms under his thighs. I get down on the floor and tongue his hole. I work around the forest of hair in his crack. He groans, loud enough that I think he might wake the boy up. But no, he’s dead to the world. I finally zero in on his pucker. “That’s it. Eat me out. Nice and wet.” I spit and work it into his hole. “Slide it in me.” I ignore him and eat a little longer. When I’m ready, I scramble up and insert. He’s tight. I get the head in, but that’s it. I hold. He hits the poppers and I am all the way in—I just glide home. I hold for a moment. Then my balls begin slapping on his ass. He knows how to work a cock. His hole clutches at my invading inches and holds tight on the withdrawal. He so much more involved that the boy tonight. I fuck him until he asks me to stop. “I’m not used to that much cock.” The boy wakes, but he wants to sleep not fuck. I stay for a moment of two, but there is no suggestion I should fuck the Master again. I pack and head home. Not very happy. It's my last night of freedom. And I'm blueballed . More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Battle Creek— June, 2013 My summers are so busy with work that they give me very little time to play. The beginning of June finds me excited about the challenges on the job but with a slight panic at the thought of no (or very little) play. This year was no different. When I got home from IML I had about eleven days before I had to pack away the playroom. I really wanted to get Dean, the hot top who bottoms for me, on my new fuckbench. We chatted online and found that we both had time to play, but only if I went to his house. Playing with him was far more important than where we played, so we set a meet for 10:00am the next day. I sent him a text as I left saying I was on my way. Dean wrote back: Just come in when You arrive Sir. Door is unlocked for You. Four minutes later I got another: This boy is napping on the couch, ready for You Sir. Twenty minutes later I pulled into his wide driveway. I walked into the front door. The couch was dead ahead… He’s there. Sprawled face down on the couch. His legs are pointed toward me, slightly spread. He is wearing a white A-shirt and new Neoprene shorts. They cling to his ass. I take in his hairy legs. His muscled arms are bent and under his head. I lock the door and set my bag down quietly. I kneel. My hand goes to his ass and I kiss the back of his neck. He murmurs and grinds his ass up to my kneading fingers. Eventually he turns over and we kiss. Our tongues do a wonderful give and take with each other. I can’t get enough. Our lips stay locked as our fingers go marauding over the other’s body. My hand ends up under the waistband of his shorts. I play around Dean’s hole, my fingers just brushing across it. He’s now naked. My shirt is off. My cock is out and wet from his mouth. I roll off the couch and sink my face into his hairy ass. Dean groans loudly. I poke and prod my tongue deeply into him. Dean pulls me around to kiss me. We go back and forth—sometimes he sucks my cock and then brings his mouth to mine; sometimes I eat his ass and then stick my tongue as deep into his mouth as it has been in his hole. I don’t know how long we stay upstairs. I know neither of us want to stop this oral exploration of each other’s bodies. Eventually we go downstairs to his play area in the corner of his laundry room. “I have something for you.” I stop retying my boot, having just removed my jeans. “Oh?” “Some piss.” I can’t believe it. He’s never been able to feed me his piss. He grins. “I’ve been practicing like you told me.” I kneel and take his cock into my mouth. It takes a moment, but soon he’s gushing down my throat. Dean doesn’t try to control it—he just opens the tap and lets it flow. It tastes sweet, though slightly strong. The head rush for me is intense. I can’t get over that he conquered being pee shy just for me. I swallow it all, then suck his cock to hardness. We kiss. He loves the flavors in my mouth. I hold the back of his head in my hand. I don’t want to let go. I eat his ass on his wooden, sort of tippy, fuckbench. I piss on his ass and lick it clean. There is a chain that hangs over our heads, stretching from one side of the room to the other. “I have something new from IML, too,” I tell him. I ask him to hold onto the chain as I blindfold him with a black bandana. I put on my new police examination gloves. They are of the thinnest possible leather. My hands are all over him. One gloved hand works his sensitive nipples. My tongue works his ear. My hand goes into his mouth so he can taste the leather. My leathered hand swipes around his pit—then back to his mouth. I press against his back so he can feel my cock in his ass crack. A gloved finger goes in his ear, across his shaved scalp, down over the blindfold into his mouth again. A slight trail of moisture is left as it traces his strong jaw line, down his throat and back to his nipple. I move around to his front side to kiss him. My gloved fingers now explore his ass crack—poking at his hole, kneading his ass cheeks. My tongue is either in his mouth or on his nipples or working his pits. I bring a finger up to his mouth to taste his sweaty ass crack. He suckles the leather. We kiss again as the wetter finger returns to his ass. “Please fuck me.” Dean is in the sling. I enter him carefully. We fuck. Our eyes are locked. I can’t stop watching his face as it registers the forward momentum of my cock sliding into him. I hold. Then I pound him. I want him to feel me all day. “I’m so close,” Dean pants. “Me, too.” I fuck the cum out of him. He shoots a glob of semen with each of my thrusts. After five of six, I pull out and coat his balls with my jizz. I lean across him and we kiss—tender and gentle. Neither of us want to stop and return to the workaday world. But we do. Once I get home, I shoot him a text, telling him how I can still smell him in my goatee and how I’m not going to wash it all day. Dean texts back: I just had a very tasty bowl of Cheerios! Your smell is still in my stache… I grin, inhale deeply and go into work… More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... My Playroom—June, 2012 I was chatting with Mikey (the brother of Rob of the ‘Breeder’s Journal’) on one of the hook-up sites. “Do you know this guy?” he asked. “I know my brother used to fuck him all the time, but he won’t let me.” I looked at the profile he named. “Yes,” I had to admit. “A long time ago when he lived closer to me.” "You should hit him up—he’s looking.” "He’s over an hour away,” I protested. But the very act of my looking at the suggested man’s profile, made the “viewee” start a conversation with me—one that led to him making the drive out to the playroom. He remembered my dick. The fact that I had the new fuckbench clinched the deal. Once he was in my playroom, I marveled again at how this man is ever wanting for sex partners. He is perhaps 5’ 10”, lithe and mostly smooth. He is ten years younger than I and looks younger yet. His profile’s main picture is a shot of his beautiful sculpted ass. That ass looked even more inviting in the mirror as he bent over to suck my cock. I sucked him briefly, too, but he couldn’t wait to get on the bench… His knees sink into the padded supports of the bench. His round ass juts out, begging for me to lick it. I kneel. My tongue makes contact. Paul groans. Loudly. His head jerks up, catching his own face in the mirror on the wall in front of him. He keeps looking into it, watching me grind my face as deep as possible into his ass. My tongue has opened him up. I am deep into him. My saliva is coating his butt canal. I am stroking my cock as I tongue fuck him. I grab the lube out of the waistband of my jock and add just a drop of lube onto my cock. I do it all by feel, I never need to stop the rimming. I stand up and slap my cock on his juicy hole. “Put it in.” I do. Slowly. Inching it in. His ass gives way under the pressure of cock slowly pushing forward. I stop halfway. I let him rest a second, and then begin again. Pushing. Opening. Until I’m home. "Oh, God, you feel good,” Paul grunts out. He’s tight. I don’t move for a long moment after I reach my full length in him. Our eyes meet in the mirror. “You want this cock?” “Fuck, yes. And your piss.” I stiffen. I hadn’t prepped for piss play at all. I didn’t remember that he liked it. I shrug it off and start the slow withdrawal. I only get out halfway before I push forward. I repeat. “Harder.” I don’t need any other prompting. I slam into him. Then pull almost all the way out. He’s getting repeated full strokes now. And loving it. He’s grunting and moaning and, occasionally, calling me names. I love how the bench positions his ass for me. It is perfectly aligned for the long, deep strokes I am using. We finally break. But not before I kneel and taste his ass. He is looser now, but not by much. He knows how to keep his hole tight. He tastes of his own self lube and the drippings from my cock. I eat him out, and then work most of it back into him. We share a bottle of water. I admit to not remembering he liked piss in his hole. He tells me it’s okay, but I can see he disappointed. “Let’s do the sling.” I get him up into it. I lean over and spit on his hole. My cock head pushes against his pucker. He’s almost as tight as when we started. I get into him, but it takes a moment. I lean over him and smile. Paul relaxes and I slide in. He feels totally different on his back and with his legs in the stirrups. His ass squeezes my cock on every stroke. I lean in again and we kiss. I straighten up and pound the hell out of him. Paul strokes his long, thin cock. I think he might cum. I don’t want this to end. I slap at his balls with the back on my hand. He slows his stroking. “I have something for you since I don’t have piss.” I slow and then pull out. “I’ll be right back.” When I come back into the room, Paul is waiting, ass up, back on the fuckbench. I dangle the full condom in front of him. “I have a devil’s dick for you.” “How many loads?” “Four. All of my own cum.” I warm the frozen loads for a second, and then peel the condom away from the frozen nugget of semen. I push it against his hole. To my surprise, it goes right in. I move around and push it deep into him with the head of my cock. I love the freezing pellet on the tip of my dick and the warmth of his ass all around my cock shaft. It leaves an amazingly slick trail for me fuck in. It’s a mind fuck for Paul, too. His cock is rock hard and sticking straight down. I start a quick, accelerating fuck. My hips are slamming into his upturned ass. I am churning my jizz in him, so his hole is frothing white. I look down. I think I may cum. “You want my fresh cum?” “Yes!” I spurt deep into him. My hot cum mixes with the still slightly cool cum of the freezer. I collapse on his back and hold onto him. When I finally pull out, I see a white puddle on the new floor mat. I have made Paul shoot without him needing to touch himself. I hunker down and bury my face in his frothy hole. My cum is everywhere. I clean all around his asshole and lick as deep as I can go. “I love your bench. It’s new?” “Yeah, I’ve used it a couple of times, but this is my first cum on it.” I can’t imagine a better way to break it in. And I tell him so. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Near My Home—June, 2013 I had one other hook up in May. It’s now a blank. Obviously, I needed to take better notes. I wrote “Safe guy new to piss.” It can’t have been bad (though I remember it was really hard to go back to condoms) but I can’t remember the guy distinctly or what we did. I am sure we fucked and pissed---but what his reaction was, I haven’t a clue. I think I need to start noting screen names. Or take more pictures. I remember the next encounter quite clearly. Better notes and something slightly out of the ordinary help… I’m at the bookstore nearest to my home. I’m sitting in the new gay theatre. It is pretty empty. One man sits in the corner on the couch. He is hunched over and sipping some sort of soda—far more interested in that than me or the movie. I decide to check out the straight theatre, when I notice the film. It’s a Dark Alley Media release. It’s really rare that they show a bareback movie here. Or maybe I don’t go at the right time. I sit down to watch Owen Hawk work over some younger man. I don’t have to watch long for me to open my pants. Or take out my lengthening cock. Or lube it up and slowly stroke it. The man leaves as soon as he sees my dick. I sit alone, stroking to the fucking being delivered onscreen. The door buzzes. A man in his early sixties, quite dapper in pressed slacks and a knit shirt, comes in. He sits across the aisle from me. He takes out his cock and starts stroking. He watches the movie and spends just as much time watching me. We stroke in rhythm with the plowing happening in front of us. He smiles at me. I smile back. Before long, he stands up and comes over to me, with his cock in his fist. It’s not much more than five inches, but it is red and dripping. Without a word he pushes it into my face. I swallow it down willingly. He sighs. “Come here.” He pulls me up. “I want to see you better.” He leads me to the front row, where the reflection of the screen bathes us in light. It’s no longer me sucking him. He is on his knees sucking me to the root—and doing a damn good job of it. The door opens. A man comes in. He stands for a moment at the back but soon comes down towards where we are showing off. He wears an A-shirt that shows off the definition of his hard pecs. The contrast between the whiteness of the bleached shirt and the blackness of his skin is caught by the light from the screen. His grey sweat pants open and he pulls out a sizable dick. He stands stroking it as he watches me get serviced. His eyes are riveted to my cock and how it disappears down my cocksucker’s throat. The older man catches sight of the new arrival. We both seem to revel in showing off for this man. When my sucker finally stops, I help him up. He sits in the front row. I start to kneel, assuming he wants more of my mouth. He stops me. “Go suck him. Show me how good you are.” He gently pushes me towards the stroking Black man. I kneel in front of him. I am even more aware, looking up at him, of the wide chest and powerful arms. The light from the screen plays over us, shifting in color with whatever is on the screen. He hesitates for a fraction of second before he removes his hand from his cock. I lick the large head and then take him to the root. He grunts something obscene. His thick, calloused fingers grab for my ears. He holds onto the sides of my head and begins to fuck my face. I panic slightly. I can’t breathe. He shoots almost instantly. He holds me in place, no longer thrusting, as he unloads down my throat. He pulls out roughly—he’s too sensitive for me to clean it properly. I sit back on my heels. Panting. The older man is on his feet and in front of me. He is about to shoot. I get him into my mouth just in time as he dribbles a load onto my tongue. He thanks me effusively. He pulls out a huge wad of fast food napkins to clean his small cock. Then I'm alone. I stay on my knees, absently playing with my engorged cock, dappled in the ever changing light of the movie. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Near Home—May, 2013 The day after Bryce’s hot ass was in my playroom, I packed up the sling and went off to IML in Chicago. I reported daily on the procession of men I, um, met there. (Hit the IML tab in the topic cloud, if you missed it.) I took a couple of days off when I returned. By the middle of the week, I was ready for more. An occasional fuck bud contacted me about sharing a young man. It seemed a natural… “Ok,” he types. “Here’s the deal. You’ll find my van in the parking lot.” He names an all but deserted strip mall in the biggest city near me. “Do you know it?” “Yes.” “We’ll be fucking. Just come in and join us. He wants two daddies.” I look at the boy’s profile. He is young. He claims 25, but looks younger. He’s blond and smooth. Nice looking, with a naturally fit body. His ass is a bubble butt that makes my mouth water. “A couple of things.” “What?” I type. “You can’t rim him. Don’t lick my cock as I fuck him. Don’t suck me when I pull out. You can’t felch him when I’m done.” “Really?” “He doesn’t want any of that gay stuff.” I almost bail at that remark, but I say ok. Two hours later, having left the hook-up site on, the boy writes me a note. “Ready to fuck me? Do you wear a cockring?” “Yes and yes.” “Well you can’t wear one today.” “Really?” “I don’t like them.” Once again, I wonder if I should bother, but I type “Ok.” I pull into the parking lot at the appointed time. There sits the white van. I park three spaces away. The boy’s car, the van and mine are just about all that’s in the lot. We are at the far end, facing some scraggly trees. Only one business is open in this struggling strip mall. The rest of the shops have soaped windows and ‘For Rent’ signs on them. Maybe three other cars are in the lot, scattered outside the solitary store. I swig on my bottle of water and walk over to the van. I look in the curtained window. There is just enough separation to see inside. The back seat is almost against the back doors. The middle bank of seats has been removed to give us floor room to fuck. There is an empty lawn chair to one side for me. My fuck-bud, with his model good looks, is sitting naked on the back seat. The white body of the twenty-something is riding his stiff dick, facing him. I am instantly boned by playing voyeur. The boy is prettier than in his photos. Eventually I try the door. It’s locked. “Reach through the window…” It’s my fuck-bud. I do, finding the inside handle and open the door. I step in. The boy turns and looks at me. I think he approves. He certainly is fascinated by what comes out of my 501’s. “Suck him.” The boy gets off my f-bud and gets on the floor. He sucks just the head into his mouth. He can’t seem to cover his teeth. I finally have to stop him. “Let him fuck you.” “That’s big,” he whines. I hoist him up so he’s on all fours on the floor, his face in my bud’s lap. I enter him. Easily. He feels great. A smooth, smooth hole. When I hit bottom he yelps. I fuck him, giving him only ¾ of my dick. He is still whining. I pull out. He gets back on my bud, this time facing me. I stroke as he rides him. The cock he’s on is smaller, but not by much. When they break, I suggest he ride me, to make it easier. “No,” he says. I just look at him. “We’re done.” I look at my f-bud. “Try it,” he urges. “No, he’s…too big.” He turns to me with a look that is one of sheer malice. “Suck him off then.” It’s my turn. “No. He doesn’t deserve it.” I am dressed in no time, never having removed anything but my shirt. I am out the door and into my car. *** I have never heard from either again. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... My Playroom—May, 2013 “Good Morning, Piss Daddy.” The message pops up in my Adam4Adam mailbox. I type a hurried “good morning, piss boy” in return before pouring my cup of tea. “Today is the day!” He’s right. Bryce, one of the most accomplished (and pervy) bottoms I know, is coming to the playroom this afternoon. We both know this will be our last meet for the rest of the summer. Our work schedules, the distance between our homes and his having to meet without the knowledge of his partner, all make scheduling incredibly hard. But he is stoked for today. He has seen pictures of the new fuck bench and can’t wait to get on it. We double check the time. He asks the address—damn!—has it been that long since he’s been to my house? “Any instructions?” I type out what he should wear. Then he gives me choices. I can’t just say jock. Is it leather, neoprene or cloth? If cloth—red, black, white or green? Leather chaps or rubber? How about toys: dildos, butt plugs…??? You get the idea. But it heats him up—typing the words and imagining what we will do with them. Hours later, he’s in his neoprene and strapped to the new bondage frame attached to the bench. We start slowly. I want to document the new fuckbench in pictures for the blog. He poses willing. We start with the bondage frame; I play a little with his ass before snapping the pictures. We move on to him ass up on the bench in the sawhorse position. I insert my cock so his ass will look a little used in the photos. We flatten the bench down so it is totally flat and figure out the leg support attachments. I snap more pictures. The camera goes down as my dick goes up. I need to fuck, but I really need to piss. Bryce is instantly on his knees in front of the sling. I stick just the head of my cock into his mouth. He is careful not to lick the dripping head. I let go. My piss stream sputters to life. He swallows greedily. He is a boy who is always thirsty. My cock adjusts to knowing I want to piss, and I start pissing a *******, straight down his throat. He gurgles and groans and concentrates. He doesn’t waste any. My cock springs to full hardness the moment I’m done. I lean him into the sling, his belly and chest on the cool leather, and enter him roughly. I fuck him hard to get his hole ready for more. We spend the next few hours fucking. And working toys deep into his ass. I push a couple of fingers in as well. Soon, I’m greased and my right hand disappears up his elastic hole. I love his control. How he can snap his ass shut on my wrist. But there’s one thing he loves to do, that I rarely do with anyone else. “It’s time,” I tell him. I get into the sling and take a massive dose of poppers. He kneels, so he’s staring at my flat, hairy butt. “Eat my hole,” I tell him. The poppers are hitting. They make me talk unfiltered. I sound like a cheap porn soundtrack. “Stick that tongue in there. Deeper, boy. Come on. You can do better.” He loves me to tell him how to do it. Whatever gives me pleasure is now what it is all about. He eats ass with the same relish that I eat hole. He goes deeper into me than I have allowed just about any man. “Spit on my hole.” He does. “Lick it up and work it in deep.” My hole is opening with his insistent tonguing. “Lick my cock head—yeah---get that fuck juice in your mouth. Now spit.” My hole is coated with my own precum. This makes Bryce attack me even harder. I take another hit as he drinks some water. He swallows the first sip, then sprays my hole with the second slug—something he learned from his Master. He licks every drop which is beading up on the hair around my hole. I watch him in the mirror above me. Totally into his service. I am now at the mercy of his tongue and the stubble on his chin. He has his chin in my ass and is licking the base of my balls. The rough hair is driving me crazy—until I can’t take it anymore. It now hurts. I push him back down so his tongue is on my hole again. "Slow down. Easy.” He obeys. I have to piss again. I consider a moment…but know I won’t be able to with his face in my ass. “I need to get out.” He moves back and gets up. “Get under the rimseat.” He does, his eyes still glued on me. I reach for an empty water bottle. I don’t have a lot, but a good half bottle of piss. I bend into the sling, and pour my barely yellow piss down my ass crack. I slam the seat of the rim seat down and set my dripping ass onto his face. The sounds of contentment below the seat are all the thanks I need. More...

You know I'd do that in a heartbeat.... MAL is coming up, after all.....

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Ann Arbor—May, 2013 The scene: a low end motel. The room, while clean, is nothing special. It has just enough room for the requisite double bed and my sling. Time: Late afternoon on a Monday. The cast of characters: Kevin—the gangbang bottom. He and I have played for several years. He has often been the centerpiece for a group of men. We have had great luck in Detroit. And then on other times, not so much, so we have decided to try a new city. He is Italian, late 40’s with a bubble butt from years of professional dancing. He can take cock for hours—then wears out all at once. The Bear—He loves to breed Kevin. He has come to almost every breeding I have set up for him. He is about my age, with a massive hairy chest, a decent cock, and a very gentle manner. The Multi-Cummer—Give him an ass with some cum in it and he shoots almost the moment he enters it. Every time. He can shoot a dozen loads in a couple of hours of play. He’s middle-aged, Black, with a good sized cock, and extremely talkative. The Otter—a great team player. He’s versatile and while leaning towards being more of a bottom now, he loves to work Kevin’s ass. He’s my age, short and furry. He loves to rim as much as I do and uses his goatee to great effect. Mr. Tats—He’s the unknown player. He and I have talked for years online, and never met. He is versatile, but loves the pic of Kevin’s butt. He will be there, he assures me, but slightly later than the start time of 4pm. He’s tall, lanky, just 40 and has a tattoo sleeve I find very hot. And a big cock which has a slight curve to the left. The Cocksucker—I have used him before in this capacity at group events. He has excellent oral skills, is the best looking guy there with leading man good looks and loves to keep guys occupied while waiting their turn up Kevin. He also knows that I often press him into service as the bottom, once Kevin has had enough. Act One—Arrivals Kevin is sprawled on the bed, ass up. I am kneeling behind him, my hands pulling apart those full globes of flesh. I lean over. My tongue connects with his pucker. He bucks like it’s an electrical charge. I eat, lick and spit deep into his hole. I’m in no hurry—we have all afternoon. Eventually I hunker back and slip my cock into his hot hole. “Why don’t we do this more often,” Kevin groans out as I sink into him. My pubes are soon pressed against his upturned butt. He takes my cock as if it were no more than a breadstick. I fuck into him, slow and steady. He pushes back, grinding himself onto my cock. A knock. It’s the Bear. He’s undresses and Kevin jumps in the sling. The Bear watches me enter Kevin again and fuck him noisily. He’s hard almost instantly. I pull out. The Bear slips in. He fucks for a moment, then leans over and whispers something in his ear. I don’t hear what he says. I’m letting the Multi-Cummer into the room. “Anyone shot in him yet?” I tell him no. He strips, watching the Bear fuck. I kneel and help get MC hard. When he is, he fucks Kevin for a bit, as I clean the Bear’s dick—savoring the taste of Kevin’s hole on his cock. Then it’s my turn back up Kevin. His hole is now slippery with pre-cum and ass lube. I fuck him hard setting the sling chains rattling. The Otter arrives. He strips and sucks every cock in the room, including the one just pulling out of Kevin’s ass. The Otter moves in and begins rimming Kevin’s well-fucked hole. “You guys have been busy,” he says to no one in particular, while slurping our pre-cum out. The Otter finally stands up and fucks the hole he’s made even wetter. But he goes soft pretty fast. The Bear steps up. He’s ready. He fucks Kevin is slow measured strokes. He shoots. His hands grab the chains of the sling to support himself. I’m right there. The Bear knows what to do—he pulls out and sticks his cum-covered cock directly into my mouth. I savor the taste—then share it with the Otter. MC inserts into the dripping hole, telling us how he can’t wait to fuck it. He thrusts maybe eight times before he shoots the second load into Kevin. I let the Otter clean him up and answer the door. It’s Mr. Tats. I smile. I love it when guys are hotter than their pictures. He grins at me and strips, as he watches the Otter felch some of the two loads out of Kevin. I help get Mr. Tats’ long cock hard. I deep throat it and actually choke with that curve. He’s ready. We all ring the sling and watch him slowly enter Kevin. Hands are all over our own cocks or on someone else’s. Nipples are tweaked; asses are caressed as we watch the newest cock go up him. Mr. Tats is still fucking as I let in the Cocksucker. I tell him to get to work as soon as he’s stripped. He sucks each of us in the circle as Mr. Tats continues to fuck. He only stops fucking when MC taps him on the shoulder and tells him to move, that he needs to unload right now. MC shoots the third load up Kevin. And so it goes. We continue taking turns on Kevin and sucking or rimming those waiting to fuck. The sexual tension begins to dissipate. I decide to step it up. Act II—The Challenge I walk over to where the Cocksucker is working on the Otter. I pull him up and push him forward onto the bed. He catches himself by landing on all fours. I drop to my knees and eat the Cocksucker’s hole. The Bear, who’s up Kevin, watches intently. Mr. Tats has been sucking MC. He stops and watches. I eat loudly and sloppily, lubing his hole. I rise up and push in. The heat in the room sky rockets. The Bear gets Kevin out of the sling and puts him on all fours on the other side of the bed. He goes right back up him, his usual gentleness gone. The bottoms look up at each other, smirk and intertwine fingers, holding on to each other. Lines form behind us. The Otter and MC are behind me. Mr. Tats waits behind the Bear. The Bear convulses and shoots another load up Kevin. MC moves around, all but pushes the Bear out of the way and fucks another quick load up Kevin. I let the Otter into the Cocksucker. Mr. Tats and I kneel and take turns licking at the loads dripping from Kevin. After a sloppy kiss between us, Mr. Tats fucks Kevin. The Otter shoots up the Cocksucker. MC adds another up the new bottom. And so it goes… Mr. Tats gives a load to each of them. MC adds one after each. The Otter tries hard to shoot a second up Kevin. The Bear is done, but sits in the corner and watches us all fuck. I am ready to shoot up Kevin when he tells me he’s had enough. I shoot the final top load of the day up the Cocksucker. Kevin surprises me. He wants to get off. He jerks. I eat his loaded ass, his bouncing balls keep hitting the bridge of my nose. The Otter is chewing Kevin’s nipples. Mr. Tats is kissing him. It takes forever—but he shoots. And we all collapse on the bed into a sweaty mass of flesh. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... I like porn. I have always liked porn. Perhaps because when I was young it was so hard to get. I remember my partner and I daring to go into the one (at the time) dirty bookstore in the Ann Arbor area and purchasing one reel of the Al Parker flick Inches in Super 8. (At least I always had good taste….). And then the thrill when my brother dubbed A Matter of Size for us on a VHS tape. Well, today, I still like to have porn playing in the playroom. I try to match the movie to the activities happening that session. If I am hosting a gangbang any of the Treasure Island releases will work nicely. If I am doing a piss scene, out come the Dick Wadd videos (usually either Pigs at the Troff or Pigs at the Zone). If it is a leather-ish group than there are few titles hotter than Hole Hunters from HDK. If it is a rather vanilla young man, I have some things from SX video that will suffice—though often those boys tell me to put in something kinkier. We don’t sit and watch it. It is mostly background noise—a great chorus of rutting men to fuck to. Something for the guys to watch in anticipation as I change into my gear. I will occasionally notice something happening on screen and decide to incorporate it into the play. When I was in upstate New York this winter, bookstores were everywhere. This one chain, seemed to cater to all sorts of pervy variations. There were flicks for any and every taste. I was clicking through the offerings in a booth and suddenly hit an incredibly hot piss scene. It was pretty obvious that the performers were European. I watched with that pleasure of recognition mingled with surprise. This was just how I played---hose him down, fuck his mouth until he begs for me up his ass--raw. The next scene was an incredibly hot top fucking three bottoms, in quick rotation then adding a fist. The next was with more piss and a toy…. I had to find out what and who I was watching. Well, it was Open Season from Wurstfilm. Fucking hot and pervy Germans playing exactly like I like to do. That film and the perhaps even hotter Perverts series (also from Wurstfilm) are the best new porn I’ve seen in a long time. You’ll find one of them on my wide screen lap top in my playroom as I type this… More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Near Home—May, 2013 I don’t think I’ve described the changes that have happened to the adult bookstore which is closest to my home. The straight theatre has been remodeled. The three rows of theatre seats are gone. There is now a long couch along the back wall and about seven swivel chairs looking up to the flat screen television. At the same time the owners built a separate theatre that only shows all male movies. It also has a long vinyl couch and about 10 swivel chairs (though there are never more than four guys at one time on the gay side). You can buy admissions for either theatre singly or purchase a reduced price combo pass. The management has also decided to let couples in for the price of one admission on Saturday. This has resulted in more men than I can ever remember bringing wives or girlfriends to the theatre. Some couples do nothing but watch the movie. Maybe they have a hand where it might not be at the local Cineplex, but they do nothing more than an occasional feel. Other couples come to show off for the other men there. That vibe of “Look at my wife going down on me—don’t you wish it were you?” can ignite the room. No one touches either of them as they give each other oral sex or hand jobs. Only once have I seen straight exhibitionists fuck there. But occasionally a couple arrives who are looking for others to play. Such was the case this Saturday night… The parking lot is packed when I arrive, but the cars still contain their occupants. It can only mean one thing—someone has posted on Craig’s List that he is bringing a playful woman to the theatre tonight. The men are hanging out in the parking lot, so as not to buy a ticket in case she chickens out. But once she’s inside, they will stream into the place and pack it. I take the last parking space, go in and buy the combo pass. I piss (in the bathroom—not some guy’s mouth) and then sit for a moment in the near empty gay theatre. The video is of very young men doing condomed porn. It barely holds my interest. But I hear the door of the straight theatre constantly buzzing to let men in. The couple must have arrived. I go next door. Yup. The place is packed. At least 13 men of all types are standing around or sitting in the available seating. A man and woman are on the big couch. Right now they have their eyes glued to the television screen, their hands in their own laps. They are both, perhaps, just past forty. He is balding, with strong features and just beginning to pack on a few extra pounds. She is the best looking woman I have ever seen come into the theatre. Her hair is cut in a short page boy, her make up is more natural than made up. She is wearing a short denim skirt with a wrap-around top. Her long legs are crossed and encased in thick black tights. Occasionally, they turn to each other and smile when something happens on the screen that they seem to like—like when the girl in the movie chokes on a thick cock. I sit in the last available chair, pushed against the side wall. I have as good a view of them as I do of the screen. A brave man leaves the crowd by the door and sits next to the couple. We all watch the screen or watch the couple watching the screen. None of the men in the room have their cock out. Not yet. There is a tremendous amount of off-hand groping of growing bulges. The sexual tension in the room is amazingly high. We all wait for some sort of signal—not knowing for sure what it will be. Fifteen minutes go by. The woman glances at her husband. He nods. She stands up. The wrap around top is undone and comes off revealing a black brassiere. That comes off too. Her husband reaches up and undoes her skirt. All three articles are placed on the back of the sofa out of the way. In nothing but her tights and high heels she sits back down. 14 men unzip or at least grab at their cock through the fabric of their trousers. Her husband’s hand, his wedding ring glinting in the reflected light from the screen, idly reaches for her crotch. He fondles her for a moment through the fabric of the tights, then she leans over and takes his exposed cock into her mouth. I watch her suck. She seems to be pleasing her man, though it’s a lot of manual stimulation with just the cock head in her mouth. The guy who is sitting next to her, a man who looks like he does heavy manual labor from the pecs I can see outlined in his t-shirt, opens his trousers at the waist. He is exposing a thicker piece of meat than her husband’s by quite a bit. It looks like her husband is going to shoot. You can hear his breath go ragged. He stops her, pulling her off his dick. “Suck him.” He indicates the man on the couch. She leans over him. Again her husband reaches for her covered crotch and plays with her as she takes the stranger into her mouth. It’s not his finest hour. He shoots instantly. She stops, spits and her husband takes out a wet wipe from his shirt pocket. She cleans the hand that held the man’s penis. The laborer pulls himself together and leaves. An older man sits in his place. She is back on her husband. As soon as he has sat down, she stops and waits for her husband to decide if it’s a cock she should suck. He nods. She turns and takes on the older man. The room is now in full jacking mode. One man across from me shoots at the same time as the new man cums in her mouth. It’s the same routine—a spit and a wipe and back to her husband. This time before she goes back down on him, her husband gets her off rapidly by just rubbing her clit through the nylon. She cums noisily. I wonder if that’s the end of the show. No. Another man, much younger than I, sits in the now vacant seat on the couch. You can tell she really wants this one, but she waits for the nod. It comes. She sucks the short cock presented to her while the young man plays with her breasts. Another man pushes over from the doorway. He reaches for her crotch. The husband slaps his hand away. Hard. “No one touches her there. But me.” The new man starts jerking off in front of her, hoping she will switch from the young man to him. She pointedly ignores him. He shoots on the floor in front of her and leaves. And so it goes. She takes on at least 8 of the men in the room. Others cum from watching the men have sex with her while waiting for their turn. A few don’t want any actual contact and get off in their chairs. The husband gets her off at least twice more. I watch and stroke, fascinated by the dynamic between the partners. It’s now the four of us left in the room—the couple, the guy who shot in his chair early on and me. The woman’s eyes are riveted to my cock. She leans close to her husband’s ear. She whispers—but loud enough to include me. “I want that big one.” The husband looks at me. I consider. I think about her technique. Or rather, the lack of it. I shake my head. She leans in and gets her husband off in seconds after all this play. Then he rubs her mound one last time through the tights. She cums—the noisiest yet. They go. I check out the gay theatre. No one. I go back to the straight side. The man in the chair is still there. Two men are sitting on the sofa—as far apart as they can get. One is maybe 25, blond, pale white skin with long bangs of the blond hair all but covering his eyes. He’s thin. On the other end of the couch is a man in his late 30’s. His skin is as dark as the boy’s is pale. He has a long, thick dick in his hand. They watch me sit back in the same chair. I haul out my meat. So does the blond. We all watch a girl on the screen take on two men. “You missed the show,” I tell the two newcomers. “A man brought his wife and she blew most of the room.” Their hands move a little faster over their cocks. “She gone,” I continue, “but…” I let it dangle—knowing that they get the fact I can help them with that. The Black man spreads his legs invitingly. I kneel between them. The guy in the chair ignores us. I deep throat the cock in front of me. It makes my eyes water. But I keep going. The blond pulls me over to suck him. I do. His dick is thin and slightly bent. He goes soft after a moment. I look over. The Black guy is softer now too. I start to go back to him, when he stops me. “We don’t want that. We want to do you.” He stands and pulls me up beside him. The blond pulls my jeans down. Jeez, they are partners. I had no idea. The black guy swallows my inflated cock. The blond nuzzles into my ass crack with an active tongue. I am turned by hands on my hips— now it’s the blond sucking me and the Black guy licking my ass. I look down and they are both rock hard. I get pushed down on the sofa. The men are on either side of my splayed legs. They take turns on my cock. They are incredible. They can both take me to the root, hold it, come up for air and swallow me again instantly. I eventually shoot in the Black man’s mouth. I spasm and buck. I watch as the men kiss and share my seed. I lean back, panting and exhausted. I know I made the right choice to save my load for couple number two… More...