FelchingPisser

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... A few shots of Juan's Breeding (see the last post) Rich fucking Juan My cock in that hot, hairy ass. The bookstore loads waiting to be added. His dripping ass--after I'd fucked my frozen load and the farmer's load up him. I fucked him after the all the frozen loads were up him. This is the remains of the cascade of cum that fell out of him as I pulled out. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... My Playroom—September, 2012 He wanted a gangbang. Of course. I tried. In my tiny town it was not going to happen easily. Juan, my great bathhouse load taker, was traveling past my house, and wanted a sex break at my place. I contacted some guys and placed an ad. There was interest, but all from guys who were way too far away, so I knew they wouldn’t show. They didn’t. Except for a guy who lives just a few blocks away. He has seeded many a man in my playroom… I’m under the rim seat. Juan’s glorious, full, hairy ass is opened by the seat. He has my tongue in it as deep as I can go. Rich, the other top, straddles my chest and has his cock in Juan’s mouth. He is telling me what a great mouth Juan has. He does have a great mouth. But not as great as his butt. It’s made for cock. Juan has already taken my cock in his mouth and butt once before Rich arrived. I am licking out my precum, enjoying the taste and feel of his hole. Above me, Rich groans. He can have a short fuse; I don’t want him to get off this quickly. I tap Juan’s thighs and get him to stand up. “You need to sample his ass,” I tell Rich. He agrees. Juan eagerly gets on all fours on the bed. “Damn.” It’s Rich. He’s looking at the hairy bubble butt in front of him. In no time he has shoved his rather average sized cock up him. “Damn,” he says again. “He’s talented.” Juan is milking his dick as Rich fucks into him. Rich pulls out and tells me to fuck him. I do. Hard. The room echoes with the sound of my balls slapping that full butt. Soon, it’s sling time. Rich fucks him as I kneel by his side and eat out Juan’s pits. I let him taste himself on my tongue. I hear Rich grunt. He’s shooting. He apologizes for not having any staying power tonight, thanks both of us and takes off. Juan is still in the sling. I sink my cock into his cummy ass. “You wanted some loads, right?” He nods. “Stay there,” I tell him. I make a quick trip to the freezer and I’m back in no time. I have a Tupperware bowl filled with several different things. “Well,” I tell him, raising a condom lined shot glass, “this is the load I shot last night.” I peel the frozen load out of the black latex. “It’s a big three day load. Here.” I insert it with my fingers. Then push it home with my cock. The cold pellet against my cock head, surrounded by the heat of his ass, is electric. Juan’s eyes are shining. “Really?” “Yeah,” I tell him. And I fuck him until it melts in the depths of his bowels and on my cock head. “Now,” I say, pulling out of him, “here is a load I sucked out of this 60-something farmer this morning.” It’s true. He’s a guy I’ve played with at my usual rest area. “He has a thick, cut cock,” I murmur. “It’s hooked down. Great in your throat.” I am holding a condom in the air. “He shot in my mouth and I spit it in here.” Now I’m peeling this much larger pellet of cum and saliva free from its wrapper. “You want it?” “Shove it in.” I do. “With him coming over this morning, it gave me an idea.” My cock is prodding this large, cold mass up his gut. “I’d go to the bookstore, suck off some guys and bring their cum to you.” I am fucking in his now sticky, cool downed ass. I ram the cum into him until it is no longer frozen. "You want the next one?” He nods. “Here is a big one, filled by three guys.” I raise another black condom. I begin peeling off the rubber. “The first guy was this older guy with a huge, uncut dick. He was a college professor, I think. He hadn’t shot in ages. The next guy in the movie theatre was this guy about my age. He had no dick to speak of and shot off the moment he put it in my mouth.” I hold the ball of cum and saliva against his hole. “You want these guys to seed you?” “Yessss…” he hisses. “The last guy I spit in this condom was this fat lawyer type. He took no time either.” It’s in. I push it deep with my finger. Then my cock. It’s a huge cold mass, but melting fast. I fuck. I push it deep. I bring my cum covered cock out of his ass, and, moving along the side of the sling, up to his mouth. He greedily licks my cock clean. “Thank you,” Juan moans. “I have one more.” I pull the last condom from the bowl. “I stopped by the rest area on the way home from the dirty bookstore. There was this obviously gay guy there…with a faux hawk. I blew him behind the latrine---spat it into a condom and hurried home to get ready for you. You want one more?” “You know I do. Fuck me with it.” I insert the last load. My cock follows the slimy mess up his ass. I pump it home. The loads are making his butt feel incredible. I fuck until I have raised the temperature of his hole. All six loads have melted. All six loads now feel as hot as if they’d just been shot into him. I think I may shoot the seventh into his ass—but I stop myself. I pull out. A waterfall of cum slips out. I help Juan out of the sling. “Over here.” I’m back under the rimseat. He sits and my mouth finds his slippery hole… More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... My Playroom—September, 2012 After the trip to Canada, I started trying to catch up with a number of boys in my stable. One was Kurt who is a huge piss pig and loves large toys. The few toys I own aren’t anywhere near big enough. He brings his own. You’ve met him twice before in these pages, once when I managed two hands into his ass… He’s kneeling on the tarp in front of the sling, squirming, impatiently looking at the Dick Wadd piss video playing on my computer and wanting the real thing. Kurt is tall and quite hairy. Except for his head. He’s shaved off his brush cut since I saw him last. (You should know that Kurt has asked to see if I could round up another guy. I have—another tall, lanky top. And that guy has brought a very young, newly out, cocksucker without really asking me. I mention them because they were there. After a moment of initial mutual sucking, the added two stayed by themselves on the bed and watched with mingled horror and admiration as Kurt and I finally stopped trying to involve them in play and just did what we do.) I get my cock into Kurt’s mouth. I discretely give him my piss load, so as not to frighten the newbies. He swallows it down greedily, never showing he is doing anything but seemingly sucking my cock. He grins up at me. The moment of mutual play happens. Everyone has everyone else’s cock in their mouth in the first five minutes. The newbies gravitate towards each other and trade blowjobs on the bed. I get Kurt into the sling. He can’t give me much time today so we get right to it. I rim for a moment, so my cock is at its hardest. I slip in. His ass is hot and muscular. I fuck. He loves my cock, but he wants more. I slip two fingers of my left hand into him along the shaft of my cock. He grunts in appreciation. The added stimulation causes my cock to swell—thicker and firmer—and to drool into his ass. I keep a can of Crisco in the refrigerator just for Kurt. I have it out on the table next to the sling. I put on black latex gloves on both hands. I reach for an 8 inch dildo as thick as my wrist. The boys on the bed watch---the young one with a little apprehension. The white grease covers the black silicone of the toy. My hand masturbates the dildo, showing it off to the room, giving it a twisty hand job. I slap it against Kurt’s hole, and start to insert. His ass swallows it down. No real pressure applied, it just disappears up his ass. I leave it in place and grab the next up. It’s a good 10 or 11 thick inches of a pink color not found anywhere in nature. My hand covers it in grease. I remove the first and insert the bigger one. This time he grunts as it hits home. I work it slowly in and out. Then twist it slowly in his gut. (The guys on the bed shoot. And leave.) There is an even bigger ebony colored toy that gets the same treatment. It’s back to me for an instant. For all the size he’s just taken, his ass tightens back down to make me feel good. I stop, knowing what he really wants. I grease both fists… I start with two fingers of my left hand, pulling them out as I insert with two from my right. Then three with the left, three with the right. Four. He takes me faster than almost any man I know. The lips of his ass soon clasp around my wrist. I hold for a long time….and then slowly pull free, the hair on his ass looking even darker against the white of the Crisco. I’ve learned I fist in a slow 4/4 time. In, hold, twist and out. Repeat. Now use the left. Then a slow lateral stretch with the fingers of both hands. Once he takes me the first time, I can insert my whole hand each time with no hesitation. I trade hands each time. I look at his box of four billiard balls, but decide not to use them. My left hand is in place. We begin talking about the guys who have left. My fingers are slowly, relentlessly, moving forward. I discover the next opening, the next turn, the path of his colon. I inch my hand ever deeper. Quarter inch by quarter inch. He huffs some poppers. He prattles on about a guy he met at the bookstore. I creep around the next slight bend in his guts. We hit the middle of my forearm. I mention some of the guys I’ve seen lately. I’m now deeper than I’ve ever been up him. He tells me about his non-playing boyfriend. He takes another popper rush---and I’m there. “Look up.” He squints at the mirror on the top of the sling frame. “Fuck.” “Yeah…” I’m up to the elbow. I flex it to show the joint is half hidden in his ass. Kurt smiles, staring up at the image of him impaled on my arm. “That’s as deep as I’ve ever gotten with anyone,” I tell him. “With your arm,” he assures me, “I can take you half way to your shoulder.” A challenge for another day. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Chicago—September, 2012 The day after we pissed on (and up) Bryce, it was the monthly Chicago Watersports Party. I was in my usually yellow jock (dirtier than usual thanks to Bryce) and boots. It was one of those last days of summer outside and there were not as many men inside. But the pigs who did come, wanted to play hard and wet. I was pissing on several of my old fuck buds almost instantly and, eventually, guzzling some piss myself…. It’s dark in the back bar after the September sun. The piss video is grunting and splashing on the back wall. In the darkest corners, men are on their knees wallowing in each other’s juices. I have had some great butt, usually awash with piss while I rim it and fuck it. It’s now the last frenetic hour. People are looking to get off, dry off and go home. I am sitting on the back ledge, water bottle in hand. One of my two favorite bottoms approaches me. He’s younger than many here, with ginger hair and the most engaging grin. And an ass every top in the room wants. “Hi,” he says, “I thought I saw you back here.” He bends and deep throats my already hard cock effortlessly. When he surfaces for air, he grins up at me. “Damn that tastes good. You’ve been busy tonight.” He’s left my cock dripping. He turns and settles his bubble butt down on my entire length. Damn. He squeezes and massages my meat with that talented ass while he just sits there. Soon he’s bouncing on it. I stand up, still in him and bend him onto an onlooker’s dick. He takes the hint and swallows the proffered cock. From behind me, someone aims a piss stream directly at my cock pile driving into his ass. I fuck the piss load into his eager ass. My boy is beating furiously. When another piss stream lands on his back, it’s too much--he spurts all over the floor. My ginger haired bud pulls off and waves goodbye as I sit back down on the ledge. Instantly, a hot versatile man, who I’ve played with on and off throughout the evening, comes over and sits on my cock. He’s my age, fit and trim, with a great expanse of hairy chest. He’s one of those distinguished looking men you would never think would be such a great cock and piss hound. I’ve seen him fuck men senseless and I’ve loaded him in the past. He pats me on the shoulder and starts to bounce on my dick. We fuck. He is in control. I can’t even thrust up into him. Two guys approach with full bladders. We are hosed down—our entire bodies are covered in piss. As the piss runs out, he slows. And then stops. Has he cum in that ******* of hot liquid? He turns to me, still attached and says. “I love your blog. Keep writing.” And he’s gone… Who knew?? He’s certainly my target audience… ********** One of the summer hook ups I have yet to write up involved a hairy versatile guy named Ryan and another top who worked over my hardcore sub, Bryce. I’ll get to it—it was hot. And then I met Ryan again when we both attended a large fuck party—and he was the best ass there. I don’t think I’d mentioned the blog to him. So I was certainly surprised and pleased when he spoke up on the last post, chiming in how hot a fuck Bryce is… Not only that, but he’s been inspired by us sex bloggers to write one himself. You should check out his fledgling effort: Spreading My Legs. He promises to not only detail his hook-ups but post pictures from past ones. He’s off to a great start…. ********** And then there’s the hook up that never happened. A piss pig from the south was up visiting his family. He told me he loved my blog—and aspired to be in it. We set a date to meet, but his family obligations took over all his time. But he cancelled correctly—in plenty of time and with true regret. Then he wrote me the hottest letter. I have disguised his city and added some punctuation…but here it is: Hey FP ... I am back down south where it is warm...thank God. Have to say I am very disappointed I did not have the chance to be your piss boy. I don’t meet many people as uninhibited and free as you seem to be. I have to tell you that thinking about you on my trip got me very turned on. I had a 2 1/2 layover in Chicago. I decided I had to go feed somewhere to relieve the pressure on my balls ... so found a semi deserted bath room, sat in the stall, opened your pics on my phone, pissed all over myself and whipped off a HUGE load in your honor, SIR. I am sure that a little smell had to be still left on me when on the flight home. Maybe that is why the sexy straight guy sitting next to me talked to me the entire fight home. So I may not have had the privilege of being in your sling and taking everything your tanked up bladder had to give me--but I left one huge load in Chicago with your name on it. We will meet up soon I know and can’t wait to read the story about our encounter in your blog. Drop me a line whenever you feel like it. And if the mood hits you, I’d love you to take a pair of sweaty, cum and piss soaked underwear, seal them in a plastic bag, send them to me and I will wear them with pride... thanks for being so cool ... your piss boy I am honored there is a load somewhere in the maze of O’Hare that was inspired by me. Now, you’ll have to excuse me, I need to find a pair of briefs and a Ziplock bag… More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Northern Indiana—September, 2012 The day after Blaine was in my playroom, I was back at Bryce’s for a final time before we’d have to start negotiating a meet around his boyfriend. Once again I’d set up the sling and rimseat in the master bedroom with tarps and sheets protecting the expensive carpet. “What do you want me to wear?” “Surprise me.” I continue to tie my left combat boot. By the time I have laced up the other one, he arrives from his walk-in closet in chaps and harness and one of those new designer jocks. He looks great. I crack open a new Gatorade. He kneels without question in front of me, waiting for me to tell him to suck. “Get me hard.” He mouths my stained yellow jock. I erect fast. I pull myself out and get my cock head in his mouth just before I start to piss. He grunts his appreciation. I shut the flow down, let him swallow, then start again. I repeat the start and stop. And again. Bryce is slurping noisily. The stream finally peters out. My cock springs to full erection. I fuck his face. “When is Bill arriving?” I ask, pulling him up. “In an hour.” “Good. Then eat my ass now before he gets here.” I put him under the rimseat. His face is framed perfectly as I lower the seat. I sit, settling in. He attacks my hole with ferocity. I take a huge hit of a brand new bottle of Jungle Juice Platinum. My foul mouth kicks in. I am telling him all about the things I want to do to his hole. How I hope to eat Bill’s cum out of it. How I’ll spit it in his open mouth. I think he says “Yes, Sir,” but it’s hard for him to articulate with his tongue so deep in my ass. I let him take his time. He never seems to tire of eating me out. Eventually I get up and get him into the sling. We fuck. I look up and there is Bill, framed in the French doors to the bedroom. He waves, enters like he owns the place and starts to strip off . “I’m early.” He brings his meaty cock to the side of the sling, and puts it in Bryce’s mouth. I hear the clink of PA on teeth. I just continue to fuck. Soon he’s hard enough to slip in. “I’ve been drinkin’ all day. I need to piss bad.” I pull out of Bryce’s ass—and send a long stream of piss up to his face. He opens his mouth and gurgles as I coat his mouth, face and chest. Bill and I unhook the stirrups from their usual place on the chains nearest me. We hook them on the chains behind Bryce’s head—his feet still in the stirrups. His ass is now up turned and at a great angle for us to share. I spend a moment with my mouth getting his hole cleaned up from my fuck and then motion Bill to slip in. He wastes no time and starts a chain bouncing fuck. Suddenly he stops. It looks like he’s cumming. “Fuck,” he growls. “Take my piss.” Bryce’s eyes widen as his guts are power washed. He clamps down on Bill’s cock—not wanting to lose a drop. Then Bill is back to fucking. It’s my turn. Bill pulls out. I taste his piss flavored cock, then he moves up to Bryce’s face as I insert my cock into the pissed out hole. “You want some more?” Bryce nods dumbly, his mouth suckling on Bill. I unleash a big piss stream. The flush of hot piss surrounding my cock is amazing. I keep pumping all the while. “Fill him up good,” Bill tells me, smacking his cock on Bryce’s cheek. I fuck for a long time, my balls slapping on that upturned ass. “I have to piss again.” I pull out so Bill can put it where he wants it-- where we all want it—up Bryce’s ass. He seems to enter him just in time. I watch them and stroke, and eventually take my cock to Bryce’s mouth. The Gatorade has done its job—I’m pissing every 10 or 15 minutes. Piss pours out of my cock. I let him have his fill. It splashes out of his open mouth and across the dark stubble on his cheek. It runs down his neck and onto his heaving chest. Bill is throwing him a relentless fuck. When Bill needs to rest, I slip back up his ass. It is so wet and hot. My cock swells and I fight from dumping my load right there. I slow the pistoning into his hole and then pull out. I kneel on the wet sheet. My mouth finds his hole. I taste him, and the tang of our mingled piss. “You want it, Daddy?” I hesitate for a moment. I know he has the control--so he could squirt a shot of piss from his ass directly into my mouth. I stand. And shake my head. I slip back in him and fuck…. ***************************** It’s much later. Bill is gone. I have no idea how many times he’s pissed up the boy. But for all the piss, he couldn’t cum. I’ve gotten Bryce up to walk off the cramped, but incredibly hot, sling position. The stirrups are back in the normal position as I get him back into the sling. “Let’s open you up.” He thinks I’m going to fist him. But I grab my speculum, lube it up and begin cranking his hole open. A thin, but steady stream of piss falls to the floor. I get it open far enough to slip my finger against the top of his canal. He gasps in pleasure. It is such a different feeling—as it tickles his prostate. I crank it open more. Now there is a Niagara of piss cascading out of his ass. With speculum in place, I rise. I have gotten it wide enough I can slip my cock in. The stainless steel walls on either side and hot flesh above and below electrify my cock. I insert my entire length. Then withdraw. Back. And pick up speed. Again, I have to will myself to stop and not shoot. “Now, Boy,” I say, “It’s time.” I reach for the black latex gloves and slowly, deliberately, slip them onto first my right hand and then the left. His ass is now a snowfield of Crisco. I’ve used twice as much as usual with all the piss—the anti-lubricant. My left hand is in place. His talented hole grips down on my wrist. I slip two fingers of my right around the edges, working the hole slightly larger. I bring my left out and the right glides into place….fully packed, filling his hole. “Fuck,” he groans. You really are my Piss Daddy…” More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... If you remember, I was getting head on the tracks under a viaduct.... We took this right after the engineer cleared the curve of the tracks... A good boy, he does what Daddy tells him... A little spit... More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... My Playroom—September, 2012 The house was mine again. Within 24 hours of my return from Canada, the playroom, which had been packed and stored under my bed, was in the process of being set back up. While I got the sling stand pieced together, I left the hook up sites on to see if I could luck into some playtime. Almost instantly BBRT flashed. A young man from a big gay city was visiting his parents who lived close by to my tiny town. We talked—he didn’t need any fetish work. Even the sling scared, but intrigued him. (I didn’t mention the rimseat). He wanted to be fucked bare, but made some comment that sounded like he didn’t want my load shot in him. Then he opened his pics. He was adorable--short, early 30’s, with shaggy dark hair. His body was toned. His ass was amazingly full for such a thin young man. His wire rimmed glasses made him look rather bookish. His smile for the camera was terrific. I gave him the address and went back to work on the upstairs bedroom’s transformation. He stands in front of me, all but shivering, though it’s a warm September evening. Blaine’s left a dark blue jock on, that outlines his magnificent bubble butt. He has a nice piece of meat swelling under the cloth pouch. I am naked but for boots. No piss stained jock for this boy. We kiss. We are both hungry for what the other can give. He sinks to his knees and takes my lengthening dick in his mouth. I smile. He knows what to do—he can take it deep with no teeth. His tongue is working overtime. Eventually, I pull him up. We kiss again. I sink to my knees and surprise him by taking his cock deep in my mouth. He is a copious precummer. My mouth is full of it. I get up and get him to the bed. “Get on all fours so I can taste your ass.” He does. My tongue swabs his hole, pushing the precum I’ve collected up it. “No one,” he stutters, “no one has eaten me out so deep.” Then he grunts and purrs as I lick and swallow. His hole opens easily. I add a finger—still licking. I’m grunting myself now as I try to get ever deeper into him. I can pull his cock back and lick it and suck it again for a moment, before I go back to his hole. He’s ready. I stand. I start to insert. “Oh, God,” he grunts. I stop and hold. “Fuck me. I want you deep in me.” I fuck all the way in. He has a grasping hole. He milks me effortlessly. This is a terrifically talented young man. I fuck with long, even strokes. I pull out reluctantly and bend to taste his hole again. “Oh, geez….” His breath is short and raspy. Eventually I stop eating his wet hole and flop down on the bed. We kiss—he hesitates for a moment, knowing his ass is on my tongue. My hand on the back of his head, gently brings his mouth to mine. He tastes my tongue—and relaxes—my mouth is delicious, fresh from his hole. I press him down. He hesitates again, but then takes my cock into his mouth. Suddenly he is sucking it ravenously. He can’t get enough of how it tastes. “Time for something new,” I tell him. “Will you sit on the rimseat?” “Sure.” The hesitation is barely there. I get under and lower the lid. He sits gingerly. My tongue invades. “GOD, he pants. “I thought you were deep before…” He stops and just revels in the experience. His ass is producing lube like crazy. It feels like I’ve already loaded him, it is just dripping out onto my tongue. I lick and swirl my tongue deep into him. I stop when I think I might actually cum if I eat him out anymore. We lie on the bed. “Well, how was that for something new?” “Oh, man—you’d already done that. I’d never done ass to mouth. But it’s great.” I hug him and nod. Soon he’s riding me. Then without my asking, he moves up to sit on my face. A quick learner. His bubble butt is so full, it actually seals over my nose and mouth—I can’t get a breath of air. I rim until I feel faint. I tap his thighs, and he gets off as I heave deep taking oxygen back into my lungs. He kisses me eagerly. “Ok,” I say, “it’s sling time.” He pulls himself up by the chains, leans back and is about 6 inches too far back from the edge. I adjust him into place and get his feet in the stirrups. I am lined up perfectly with his wet hole. I slip right in. “Oh, wow….” He’s sold on the sling instantly. “I’m floating right onto your cock.” I grin. And fuck. Hard. My thin hips smack his full ass filling the room with sound. I fuck. I rim. Blaine looks up. “That’s a mirror?” I nod. “Give me my glasses so I can see your cock go in me.” I do. “Oh, wow.” He’s back to looking 18 and adorable. I fuck. I rim. I lean across him and kiss him. “Where do you want my load?” Blaine suddenly looks stricken. “I’ll do whatever you want,” I tell him. He pulls my hand so I lean across him again. “I used to play totally safe,” he says in a measured but faraway voice. “I was stealthed by this guy. It’s the only time I’ve ever taken a load and it…” He leaves it unfinished. “But I’m undetectable now—like I told you.” “I don’t have to,” I murmur. “No. I want you to.” I stand back up. “Sure?” “Yeah,” he nods. “Breed me.” I start to fuck in earnest. I build to a full pounding, chain rattling fuck. “Shit!” he’s shooting—a spurt landing just shy of his chin. Seeing him cum flips my switch. “Argh.” I cum noisily. “Oh, my God….I can feel you shoot.” He is tearing up. In happiness. I collapse on his chest. My mouth near his. We kiss and just stay joined together for as long as we possibly can… More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Detroit--May, 2012 The weekend after all the fun in my playroom, was supposed to be my third trip to Cum-Union, but the party was cancelled. More bad sex in May. It seemed like an ideal time to support a fellow Michigan pig who was trying to organize a monthly gathering. 30 some guys had rsvp-ed. But I knew how that would go. We'd be lucky to get 10...but if they were the right ones, that could be a terrific evening. I drove to Detroit. The far side of Detroit. I arrived on the dot of 8:00pm. The host and a fuck bud of his were busy as I arrived, doing some major fisting. A third guy I've played with before answered the door. I stripped down and tried to get out of "drive" mode and into sex mode. I watched them clean up from the fist scene. Soon enough I was hard--and then in all three asses in the next 30 minutes. Two guys arrived. It was a good beginning. The guy who was taking the fist when I arrived, finally identified himself as the first man I'd fucked at my first Cum-Union party. That was nicest moment of the evening---for when it was obvious no one else was showing up in the appointed time frame, the host declared the party was over--"Oh, finish up what you're doing, but we're done...." I looked at my watch. 65 minutes. I'd driven twice that long to get there. I pulled out of the ass I was fucking, put on my jeans and left. I believe I thanked the host. ********************************************************* So I've included a picture to brighten up this unhappy post. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Chicago--May, 2012 I went to my first IML this year. It's crazy, that's it's the closest of the Leather conventions to my home, but I've never been. In many ways I still feel like I have not done IML--I have only done IML Lite. I stayed with f-buds, not at the hotel. It radically changed how the weekend happened. I still had fun--it was just very different than if I'd stayed in the vortex of the seething cesspool of hotel sex... My first night there, I did not hook up at the host hotel. My f-bud Steve, who'd just been to my playroom two weeks before, took me to visit one of his favorite bottoms in Chicago. I'm glad he did. Gabe lets us in, greeting us at the door in nothing but a towel. He lives in a high priced condo fairly close to where I'm staying. There are "good" pieces everywhere in his living room. The bedroom not so much. Except for him. He's good, all right. Excellent, actually. Just less than 6 feet and gym built. Big thighs and a well sculpted chest. And an ass of granite. I strip while he excuses himself for a last check in the bathroom. I am out of my clothes, folding my leather into a neat pile. (We'd just been to the hotel to see our f-bud Warren who is working backstage at IML.) Steve tosses his shirt and jeans in a corner. Gabe is back. He's added a dark blue jock. It accentuates his muscle butt superbly. He wastes no time. He's on all fours, looking over his shoulder at me. "Do you like my ass, Daddy?" He reaches his left arm back and pulls the firm cheek to one side. "You like my hole?" I don't answer. I just kneel on the floor and start licking his pucker. "Oh, fuck, Daddy. Eat me. Eat me out. Steve said you eat your cum out, too?" I grunt. "I want you to." Gabe is silenced by Steve's long, thin cock going into his mouth. Gabe seems to have no gag reflex. Steve is fucking his mouth--making him take him to the root with each thrust. I am pre-cumming like crazy. I haven't had sex in five days. I need this hole. Bad. I stand up. My cock is lined up perfectly. I pull open his butt cheeks and slowly insert the head of my cock. There is squeal from around Steve's dick. He actually pulls off it for a moment. "Give me that big fucker." I do. I inch it in until I'm half way home. When he starts to talk again, I slam it to the root. Steve has pulled out of Gabe's mouth and crawled under him to watch me fuck him. And I fuck him I do. Hard. He is moaning and writhing. Continually telling this Daddy how good it feels. Eventually I slow. Steve comes up for air. I pull out. Gabe whirls around and cleans my cock. I realize he hadn't tasted it before. I move up to the bed, lean back into the pile of pillows and let him service me orally. And watch Steve kneel behind him and slip in. I can feel when Steve hits bottom. Gabe grunts around my cock. Gabe is talented at both ends. He loves to take the full length, and just as I am tiring of that, he knows to switch up and concentrate on the head. Eventually, I tell him to get his tongue into my secret spot--to try to get his tongue between my metal cock ring and my balls. He goes crazy with my direction. He is snuffling around. Noisy and hot. Steve pulls out. Gabe is busy with my sweet spot, so I clean Steve's cock off. I pull Gabe's head off my dick and spit some of it into his mouth. "Fuck you are hot," Gabe groans. "Sit on my cock." I lie back. He rides me expertly. He's facing me. "Does Daddy like my ass?" He keeps up a running string of commentary as he impales himself on my cock. It feels great, so wet and hot. And I like giving up control for a bit. Steve lies back and watches. Eventually we try to DP, but it's not in the cards. Gabe is too damn tight. It's Steve's turn. He gets Gabe on his back, legs on his shoulders, as he stands on the floor. You can see that they fuck a lot--they move in unison with ease--knowing right where to grab the ankle and how high to lift it. I watch awhile from the bed, then slip down to the floor and watch the big cock piston into his hole from down there. I can't resist. I squirm under Steve's legs. My tongue snakes out and I lick the underside of Steve's cock on the backstroke. He grunts. It sets Gabe off with more verbiage about my piggishness. When my neck tires, I swing around and rim Steve as he fucks. A mistake. The extra stimulation makes Steve blow. He grunts and falls forward onto Gabe. I'm right there as his cock slips out. I clean it until there is not a drop of cum left on it. He moves off Gabe. "Eat his load. Eat his load out, Daddy." I do. It's sweet and copious. When I run out of cum, I clamber up on the bed, lie down and make Gabe sit on my face. He settles in place as soon as I've huffed some poppers. I lick and poke with my tongue. I am rewarded with an avalanche of cum. It flows out of his ass where my tongue swirls it away. It makes me want to add some more. Gabe gets off me and kneels at the edge of the bed. I stand. Insert. And fuck. My cock is traveling over the dregs of the load. It's slick and perfect. I shoot in no time. "Fill me up, Daddy. Fill this boy's ass!" I do. A meal--not dessert. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Chicago--May, 2012 The next day, Saturday, was the piss party. Our usual group had re-scheduled the event for later in the month to include the IML guys. It was great to see many of our regulars and some really hot out of towners. It started a little slowly. Maybe two dozen guys were in the room. I played a little--and the next time I looked around, the size of the crowd had swollen to a good 60 or 70 men. Men of all sizes, shapes and ages. Just wearing more gear than usual.... I am playing in the back corner. My man of the moment is leaning on a high stool. His ass is spread perfectly for me. He's in his 40's, medium height, with a few extra pounds, and a dick that is constantly hard. He has dark hair--hair that has been matted to his head with someone else's piss. I am on my knees. The concrete is not yet awash with man juice. It's not even particularly damp back there. I am pulling his generous cheeks apart and rimming him deeply. He sighs. He eggs me on to go deeper. I do. I am almost sure he has a load up there. I poke and swirl and swallow. I stand up. He starts to turn. "Stay," I tell him. He knows he is going to get fucked. My cock head is right on his hole. "Please, Sir." He feels my dick swell. And I start to piss. It's a long one. I start it on his pucker. I pull my cock up the valley of his ass so the pale, pale liquid cascades down his entire ass crack. He is calling me every filthy name he can think of, when he is not huffing poppers. When I finally run dry, I kneel again and start licking my piss off him. He loves this--and tells me I'm the raunchiest pig there. I slurp and swallow and dry him with my tongue. Out of nowhere another hot stream hits him. I don't bother to see who is dousing us. I continue to guzzle the river of piss that is running down his crack. He eventually gets fucked--but not until I've cleaned every drop off him. And spit some in his mouth. Much later I piss on a Saint. A 20-something I've never seen before is kneeling in the middle of the room. A very young group of three or four men are covering him in piss. He catches my eye, stopping me in mid sip. He has long, curly dark hair, and that lithe, slightly muscled body so favored in Renaisance paintings. My own St. Sebastian---if Sebastian had ever worn a dog collar and had tribal shoulder tats. He motions for me to come join the boys. I do. I'm hard as a rock, but my piss spurts out easily. I start on his forehead, letting it run down his aquiline nose, then let it play on his collar, his nipples and finally on his yellow Timoteo jock. His uncut cock is hard and poking out the side. It drips with the four or five loads of piss we have covered him with. He thanks us. We all move on to other activities. Later still, a heavier man in his 30's asks me if I would fuck his boy--he wants to watch me pound him. I say yes. Where is he? The heavier guy steps to one side. There, behind him and on his knees, is St. Sebastian. "He says you are hot," the Master continues. "Fuck him. You can even load him if you want." I thank the Master and pull Sebastian to his feet by his collar. "Thank you, Sir," he whispers in my ear. I pull him over to the back stool. His Master has followed us. I tell him to lean on it. His full ass is perfectly framed by his underwear. This time as I kneel on the concrete, it's sopping wet. I taste his hole tentatively. It's sweet and salty from all the piss. I rim. Deep. And stay there, likely longer than I should, knowing that his Master is watching us. I rise. My cock is obscenely long and very, very red. I can't wait to enter him. "Fuck him." It's a command. And I obey. I sink balls deep in a single stroke. He grunts, but takes it like a good boy should. My own personal arrow pierces Sebastian repeatedly. He is slightly loose, but knows how to milk my cock deep inside him. He must make his Master very happy. I think I may cum. His ass is constantly clinging to my cock. I'm losing control. Then his Master lets loose a major stream of piss. It's everywhere. On Sebastian's back, my legs, my boots, but most importantly on my cock. I'm fucking his piss into his boy. The boy grunts and loses it. He's cumming. His ass is spasming around my cock. For whatever reason, this pulls me away from my own orgasm. The Master steps in. He shoots on his boy's face. It's a huge, runny load. It drips from the bridge of that Roman nose. I slowly pull out. "Clean him up." Sebastian, his face still covered in load, sinks to his knees in the puddles of piss, and licks the mix of piss and ass juice off my flaming red penis.... More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... I was hoping I'd finish writing up my May sexploits before July---but it looks like that's not to be. I'm still working a crazy schedule, one that will only get worse in July. When my computer crashed and made it hard to access pictures I'd stored, I began going through old emails where the participants had mailed me pics of our sex. I had no idea how many were in limbo at Cloud Yahoo. There are many close ups of faces, but there are some good pics to be posted here over my busy weeks. Here is another from December of 2006. I'm playing with a couple. As is often the case, the other top (here sitting on his partners face) took a holiday from topping --after lengthy talks about "shareing his partners hole"-- and I was expected to fuck both of them. I did. Repeatedly. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Out of the blue I got an email from a man I first spoke with over two years ago. He used to travel with his truck driver boyfriend and look for hook-ups where ever they did a layover. We'd talked back then about a meet, but schedules had never worked out. He wrote me at the very end of May. He was driving truck by himself now. He'd be in the town just north of me for the night, and needed some relief. "Come rape me, Daddy," he wrote. "I need to be used. Be brutal with that big dick of yours. No mercy..." The place is packed. It feels like every semi crisscrossing the state has parked here for the night. I am behind a truck stop--greasy food and grimy showers inside, a huge parking lot behind outside. His truck is easy to spot--it has very distinctive designs on the fenders of the cab. I park in the area for cars quite some distance away. I walk through the valley of the big rigs parked for the night. It's not quite dark yet. I feel very exposed making my way back to his cab. A trucker with a massive beard stares down on me from his seat high above. His eyes follow me. He knows just what I'm doing here, dressed in my camos and combat boots. I wonder if he wants some, too... I am suddenly at the rig. The driver side door is ajar. Just as he told me it would be. I step up and swing into the driver's seat. I pull the blackout curtain the rest of the way shut. I've blacked out the last few rays of the setting sun and leaving us in gloom. I turn around. He has a weak lamped light burning over the bed. It makes more flickering shadows than real light. And he's there. As he said. On all fours. Ass in the air. White fabric stretched over a full, round ass. His head is buried under his arms. Without a word, my hand connects a solid smack on his ass. It reverberates in the closeness of the cab. He grunts. "I told you a jock." I am whispering. Making him strain to hear me. "I'm sorry, Sir. I don't have one," he manages to gulp out before my hand comes down on his ass again. Hard. He whimpers. I kneel, still full dressed, and peel the underwear slowly off his ass. I bury my face in his hairy crack...just for a second. He tastes of soap from his shower. He moans now. Contented. I stand up and back hand his left ass cheek. I proceed to undo the buttons on the camos. "Turn around, Faggot. You need to get my cock wet." I am hard. And my cock head drooling. He raises his head. I grab the bandanna out of my pocket and get it over his eyes before he can see me. He starts to make a slight vocal protest, but thinks better of it. He squirms around to suck my cock. I guide it in. It's a terrible angle for both of us--he's all teeth. "Spit on it." He does. Blindly. It lands on my cock head, looking a little like cum. I pull him around. His legs are now on the floor, his chest pressed to the mattress. I pull his arms to the small of his back and hold them there. My cock is brushing his furry hole. He has to feel it waiting there. With no lube but my precum and his spit I press forward. He howls. He stops himself as my left hand smacks his head. "Yes, Sir. Fuck me, Sir." And I do. I fuck him hard. Long strokes. I pull all the way out. And back in. He whimpers and whines a little less every time I re-enter. I slowly accelerate the tempo. I am banging his ass hard. My hips sound terrific as they slam against his up turned fleshy cheeks. "Get on all fours." He does just what I tell him. I slip in easily now. His ass has lubed itself in protection from the invader. "Where do you want my load?" "Where ever you want to put it, Sir." I grunt--well pleased. "You are going to keep my load in your ass all night." He makes no response. My hand connects on his meaty butt cheek again. "You hear me?" "Yes, Sir. All night, Sir." "You want it?" "Yes, Sir." I am actually close already. "Breed me now." I can feel the cum start to churn in my balls. "Cum in my ass!" "FUCK." I slam forward, shooting the first spasm as deep as I can send it. His head goes into the wall. He grunts. I do too, with each successive blast from my cock. His ass is grasping me tightly. "Thank you, Sir," he mumbles. "Good boy..." ************************************************************* There's an email waiting for me when I get home. "Thank you SIR it was the best you made me cum twice" More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Happy Fourth of July to all my American readers! Yes, it's me. I have a fuck bud with too much time on his hands and photoshop expertise. This is a companion picture to the leather flag I posted last year. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... I was going to write a post about my last hook-up in May, but I have decided not to dwell on the bad. Well, perhaps just a few words about it... It was back to one of my problematic May experiences. An absolutely gorgeous man from quite a distance away wrote me, telling me I had the perfect cock for his ass. His pictures showed him to have a beautifully gym built body. His ancestry looked to be somewhere Mediterranean--dark curly hair with olive skin and the pronounced Roman nose I am so fond of... He wanted to be used anyway I wanted. Since we were a quite a distance apart and had agreed to meet halfway, I took the precaution of calling him to talk about just what he wanted. We agreed on all things sexually: limited kink, but good, long butt fucking. One of the things I mentioned was how I loved to rim before, during and after fucking. He thought that sounded incredibly hot. I arrived. He was even better looking in person. And totally insecure. He immediately climbed under the covers saying he was ashamed of how his body currently looked. We talked. And talked. I held him. Eventually we got naked. I rimmed. I inserted. He panicked. I slowed, calmed him and fucked for quite awhile. He seemed totally bored. I pulled out. I tasted his hole again to taste my pre-cum. He flipped out. I reminded him of what I'd said on the phone. "I'm dirty now." "No, you aren't--My mouth would not have lingered there if you were." He offered to just suck me off. I put on my clothes and ended up having a great time in the dirty bookstores of Toledo. I hope his 100 mile drive home was as uneventful as mine--though I'm fairly sure he didn't feel as totally sated as I finally did when I left the city. Enough about May. In June, the clouds surrounding my sex life lifted. I have had great sessions. Only my crazy work load has slowed me down. The first sex of June was back up in the bay area of Michigan. I'd gone up for a family matter, but found time time to go to the dirty bookstore there. This is the store mentioned here, where one admission gets you into two theatres and a series of booths.... It's early. Dead. Maybe two or three guys around. I have my fly open and am slowly stroking in the straight porn theatre. Watching three men on a girl is just fine by me--especially as they rotate through all three holes... I get some head. It's from an older guy--the kind you know has the experience to do it right. I idly wonder how many dicks have been in his mouth over the 60 plus years... Things pick up. (I've disappointed my cock sucker by not cumming. He was good, but not that good.) The next time I walk the halls there are a dozen men--roaming, cruising, sniffing around each other. Guys step into booths. Others follow. There is a mini daisy chain of sucking in the gay theatre as guys lean from their chair into the lap of the man on their left. And then there's this boy. No, of course, he's a young man. But he looks 16. I know the owner. I have seen him check ID's, I'm sure the boy is legal. As he walks into the arcade, the temperature of the entire place rises. All eyes look at him. The lust is palpable. With good reason. He's tall and thin. You can see the definition through his tight, slightly off-white wife beater. It makes the deep tan of his skin show up that much deeper. His jet black hair is slightly long. His cowboy boots are noisy on the linoleum. The gold cross around his neck flashes as it catches the light. And he has eyes only for the bulge in my Levi's. He makes the tour of all the booths. I go sit in the now deserted gay theatre. He finds me. I have my cock out. Stroking. I barely look at him as he comes through the door. But I know it's him. I glance up, keeping my face impassive. He sits next to me. We both feign interest in the rogue cop porn on the screen. He kneads his crotch. Soon he unzips. We stroke. Silent--except for my slightly lubed hand on my cock. He's working his foreskin over the head of his cock, making no sound at all. Guys come in and sit. They stay for a bit watching but get bored quickly when they see that we aren't playing. Soon we are left alone. "You have a big dick, Papi." The sound of his voice feels loud in the stillness. "Thanks." "You fuck me." It's not a question. It's a statement. I turn to him. "Yeah. Sure. Stand up." He does. "Show me your ass." Without question he shoves his jeans down farther and turns around. I am instantly kneeling on the floor, my face buried in this lightly furred bubble butt. It's hot and sweaty--all in the good way. He instantly leans forward so my tongue can get into his hole. "Lick me, Papi." I do. Deep. And forever. I don't want to get up. But eventually I stand. My cock brushes his wet ass crack as I rise. He fumbles in his pocket. "Here." It's a Magnum. I make a a quick decision. I'm too turned on to say "no." I pour massive amounts of lube on my latexed cock. I slip in easily after all the rimming--and with his out right need. He pushes back to meet me. "Fuck me, Papi." I hold for just a moment then begin working my cock up his ass. Almost instantly he explodes all over the floor. "Please...." He wants me out. I slip out of him, then the condom, as he mops himself up. But he doesn't leave. He watches regular television, some porn. I play with at least three other guys, but I can't get off.... Hours later. It's approaching midnight. It's midweek, so everyone has gone home. Except me. And my Hispanic friend. I am back in the gay theatre, stroking--but knowing I'm not going to get off tonight. I've played too long. The door creaks open. It's the boy. "Fuck me, Papi." I smile, but shake my head. "It's late." I point to my half hard penis. "Fuck me up my ass. Raw." My cock instantly erects. He's dropping his pants and bending over the same chair. I spit on his hole and my cock glides home. Dear Christ. The heat. The moistness of his hairy hole. I can feel every muscle now as he clamps down on my invading dick. "Deeper, Papi." I fuck. But not for long. "Where do you want my load?' I choke out. "Up me." I shoot the moment it registers in my brain. I hold on to his thin hips--his hips bucking back onto Daddy's cock as it seeds him. Deep. I hold him for just a heart beat. Or two. He's gonna cum again. I slip my cock out and fall to my knees. He releases a ******* of cum. It's huge for a second load. It lands on my face. My shaved head. My beard. My Army shirt. I reach up and pry his fingers away from his cock, and lovingly slip the still drooling foreskin into my mouth. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... I thought I had a block of time to get my next post done... But work, once again, got in the way. It's a fairly hardcore post about one of my best subs. Here he is is from an earlier meet. And yes, I should have more new pictures of me working him over. Now I just need time to write it.... More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Knowing how busy my life gets in June, July and August is what almost prevented me from starting to blog. I hate not having new posts available. I feel like I let faithful readers down. Yet during this dry spell of content, I got a note from a reader in one of the least populated states in the American West. He loves piss play, but cannot find men who will do it. Reading my blog gives him hope, he wrote. Then he thanked me for writing and being adventurous... And within the same morning I found a message of thanks posted on a wall of a sex pig forum... Now it's my turn to thank my readers for sticking with me through this long absence. I am not going anywhere. I just have no time to write. Literally. And frankly, little time for sex. But the sex I have managed to squeeze in, is worth writing about.... I'll be back....I promise. (The picture is another from some of my oldest digital images.....) More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... My all consuming weeks of work are almost over. I have now gone for over two weeks without getting off---a century for me. I did some more old email searching as I was waiting for dinner to come out of the oven. This is from May, 2007. Before I was fucking bare.... I remember this scene well. It was the first time I had had this request. If I wouldn't seed his hole, he asked that I shoot on it. Then finger it into his ass.... I was more than happy to work it up his chute. He jerked and shot as I fingered my load into him....and his Boy Friend happily snapped the pics.... More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Northern Indiana—June, 2012 If there is one boy in my stable I hold up as an ideal sub, it’s Bryce. I have many good bottoms, but Bryce is special—a true sub who loves my Dom side. He writes his “Piss Daddy” almost daily. He is open to anything I want to try. He was eager for me to use his picture on a post about the sling. He sends me pics of his new toys; pics of his new toys inserted; vids of his hand working up his own ass. We have not played for months; not since I’ve been writing the blog. And that is the only problem—we rarely see each other for he has a very controlling boyfriend. The three of us have all played together over the years, but those sessions are few and far between. And it seems that the BF’s appetite for kink can no longer keep pace with his boy like mine can. Bryce tells me I have opened a whole new world for him. In early June we were able to meet up for two sessions. I knew my goal was to satisfy him by finally getting my hand in his manhole…other than that, it was open season for me to do what I wanted… “Kneel.” Bryce obediently is on his knees at the base of the sling stand. We have set up both my sling and rimseat in the expensively appointed bedroom of their huge house. The Boy Friend will be gone all month and we are going to make up for some lost playtime. “Get it wet.” His hot mouth begins swabbing at the pouch of my pissed out jock. I haven’t rinsed it since the IML piss party in May. “You like that?” He grunts an affirmative into the fabric surrounding my growing cock. He looks incredibly hot groveling in front of me. He’s leathered up for me: chaps, harness, wrist cuffs and collar. A pristine white jock covers his erect dick. I pull back. “Stay.” He does, looking up questioningly at me. “Open.” His eyes light up and his mouth opens wide. I twist the now wet pouch of my jock under my balls. My cock leaps up and out. There are times when I am still surprised at how big it looks. This is one of those times. I aim at his mouth and a clear stream of piss arcs out of my cock and into his mouth. He swallows. And swallows. I spray a little on his face, but I want him to guzzle it down. He takes the entire load I have built up in my traveling there. I swig some Gator-Aid and tell him to go back to sucking my now empty cock. He does, taking me repeatedly to the root, like it was no bigger than a breadstick. I pull him up, hug him to me and tell him to get in the sling. As soon as his feet are in the stirrups, I take a hit of Jungle Juice Platinum, drop to my knees and sink my tongue into his hot ass. He may take big toys and even his own fist, but he still has a tight hole. I tell him so when I come up for air. And I spit the taste of his ass into his open mouth. He groans. And I sink back to my knees, devouring his opening hole. I have lubed my cock slightly as I’ve eaten and jerked. I rise and effortlessly glide into his hole. He tightens down for my pleasure, his eyes widening. “Fuck your boy, Piss Daddy.” I hold for a minute, but I don’t give him much time to adjust. I fuck slow and long. All but pulling out—and ramming it home. Without warning, I pull out and hose down his chest with piss. I jerk my cock so the piss stream arcs up and hits his face. He guzzles, noisily and contentedly. I force myself to stop pissing and take an ancient, shapeless, yellowed jock from the top of the sling stand pole. I step in and hold it over his crotch which is still covered by his pristine jock. I piss into my old one, letting the excess spill out over his covered cock. He groans. “Cover me. Make it yellow.” I take my jock and wring it out into his mouth. Then shove it in place as a makeshift gag. My still dripping cock goes right back into his hole. His eyes widen. He does some poppers. He knows what’s coming. And he’s right. I let loose with a chain rattling fuck, slamming his hole as hard and deep as I can with my cock. I lose all track of time. I have no idea how long we fuck. Eventually, I slow. I need a break. I get him out of the sling and take a long drink of Gator-Aid. “Time for you to eat my ass,” I tell him. I get in the sling. He settles down for a good long session of pleasuring his Piss Daddy—something I find so few bottoms willing to do. I take a hit of poppers. I immediately can’t shut up. They make me talk dirty. I tell him what to do. I tell him to use the stubble on his chin. I tell him to slow for a second---and piss arches out of my hard, hard cock. It coats his face first and then, as the stream lessens, my ass crack. “Now lick me clean. Every drop.” He does. He does it so well, I take another hit of poppers and let him continue longer than I thought I intended. Just before I lose all the blood to my legs, I swing down and out of the sling. It’s his turn back in it. It’s toy time. He has a plethora of dildos and butt plugs laid out. I smear each in succession and work them into his hole, smallest to large--eight inchers to one reaching a full sixteen. And thick. The bases of most of them are bigger than my wrists. I add my cock with one of the smaller ones, than go back to working through the entire selection. I J-Lube my hands. It’s time. Two fingers into his hot, wet channel. Replace them with two from the left. Now three. Now four. Back to three but all six fingers in at once, pulling a lateral stretch. He sighs and poppers up. I work just my left in for a while—finger by finger, adding them slowly. It’s the smaller hand, I expect it to go in, but his bone structure is small down there. I don’t quite fit. I repeat the process of slowly adding fingers, this time with my right, twisting them into place. My right hand disappears. We both gasp. I just hold it there. Gently and very, very slowly, I open my hand. My fingertips can feel his channel to go deeper. I inch slightly forward after adding more J-Lube to my wrist. I stop the microscopic crawl up into his guts. I just hold. I slightly turn my wrist. He grunts. And holds up his hand. I withdraw just as slowly, until he is left gaping. Another goal reached. He will take more the next time. Bryce had asked if he could invite another fuck bud I know—a hot 40 something pig who is versatile—I have been up him as well as fucked alongside him. Today he’s coming to give us a load to fuck in. He’s due any time. I want to give Bryce’s hole a chance to relax. I have him get under the rim seat. I close the seat and sit. I take a hit of poppers. His tongue goes deeper yet into my ass. And as if on cue, The Pig walks in through the French doors. He undresses and sticks his seven incher into my mouth while Bryce eats my hole. When Bill is wet, he pulls out of my mouth, moves back and kneels between Bryce’s legs. He lifts them up on his shoulders and slips his meaty cock into Bryce’s worked out hole. Bryce grunts and moans. He redoubles on the speed of eating my ass. When Bill needs to move, we just switch—he sits on the rimseat and I slide into Bryce. It is amazingly hot to see him serving both of us. I lean in and taste Bill’s cock, still tasting of Bryce’s fucked out hole. And I am going to shoot. Never mind I wanted to fuck in Bill’s cum. I need to unload. Now. And I do. I pull off Bill’s dick and shoot four of five major blasts into the clutching hole covering my cock. My oozing jizz, serves as lube for Bryce to get The Pig’s hand up him, as I head for the shower… More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... I went back to play with Bryce the next week. We were going to take advantage of his availability. The scene went down in a very similar fashion to the first time, but without adding another top. It was just us. And it was all we needed.... I have suffered through alot of lousy head. Not with Bryce. He takes me effortlessly. He loves anything that comes out of my cock. I am looking to start pissing right now... I threw him into the sling, so he was bent over, supported by his chest, his feet on the floor. He begged for me to fuck him hard. I did. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Near Home--June, 2012 We met online. It’s early June--work hasn’t mushroomed out of control yet, but I’ve lost the use of my playroom for the summer. (It’s had to become a bedroom again. And it makes me smile every time I think about the straight couple bedding down in there on that well used bed.) This guy online is hot for my cock, but he can’t host either. What to do? “We could meet at the bookstore,” I suggest. “Would you like to get fucked in front of other guys?” He loves the idea. Then he’s nervous. But he’ll be there. We agree to meet at 8pm. I tell him to make sure he goes into the theatre not the arcade—two people barely fit in the arcade booths—certainly not much room to fuck. I describe the theatre—all 13 seats of it. I suggest we take the back row, where a seat is missing and I’ll have lots of room to maneuver as he leans over the seat in front. I tell him I’ll be in my army issue shirt and black 501’s. He’s excited. He’s scared. I wonder if he’ll show… The door buzzes. I push and enter. Barely. It’s dark. And a crowd is right at the door. Likely I’ve interrupted a blow job in the corner behind the door. I push in a little more. Yeah, two guys are pulling clothes together. It’s too dark to see anything about them. I grope along the wall which is barely lit by the TV screen. It’s auteur porn showing. The Director/Videographer is talking to the barely 18 year old girl from behind his camera. Soon she’s sucking his cock…..all from his point of view—we never see his face or full body. My eyes adjust. He’s there. Sitting in the farthest of the three seats in the back row. He’s Germanic, with a high forehead and a close crop of what blond hair he has left. He’s in an A-shirt that gleams in the gloom and jeans. His arms look like he’s been pouring concrete all day—big, thick and muscled. He glances around nervously. He looks at me, trying to decide if it’s me. I step towards him. He smiles sheepishly and I sit next to him. His hands are on my bulge. He kneads me. My cock responds. He’s being very careful not to do anything overt. I smile at him and look at the men in the room. There are two older men in the front row. I know them—regulars who are always on the edge of any action. He opens the buttons on my jeans as I look around to the door. The two guys I interrupted must have moved back into the corner, out of my range of site. Two other guys lean against the wall—both younger, in shorts and t-shirts, one in sandals and other in flip flops. He pulls out my cock. “You’re sure it’s ok?” I nod. “If a cop….” He leaves it unfinished. I don’t tell him, that the only cop I’ve ever seen here shot a huge load down my throat. I place a hand on the back of his head. Just steady pressure—urging him to go down on me. “Fuck. That’s nice.” His last words before his mouth engulfs my dick. He’s pretty good, but the angle is bad. I lean over and whisper in his ear, telling him to get on the floor. He tries, but he can’t fit. He crawls back up into his seat. I stand and, with my erect dick swaying, move in front of him and stuff it in his mouth. The boys on the side wall are now watching us. He’s mortified. And delighted. I fuck his face. Angle is everything--and now he is really making me feel good. He opens his own fly to stroke as he swallows me down. I want his ass. I have promised him a long rim job since he swears he’s tight. “Come on,” I tell him. “I want to taste your hole.” He just stares at me. The reality of doing it in front of these guys is sinking in. He looks at me. I just nod. And wait. Finally, he rises, and stepping into the seatless area, jerks his trousers and underwear down with one swift motion. I get up into the seatless area as well. I push him forward, bending him over the seat in front of him. No one is in the middle row. I kneel behind him. His ass cheeks glow white--they are brushed with blond down, but I can only tell that from the feel of them on my face. His hole is hairy and smells of soap. And a little fear-induced sweat. I lap it away. He’s responding. Even groaning softly as I rim. One of the 30 year olds comes into the middle row and gets out his cock. My partner—what the fuck is his name!!—looks at me over his shoulder in panic. I look up and nod. The guy just strokes near his face, he won’t let him suck it. I go back to eating. His hole is opening. I really want to sink my cock in him. I stand up. “Remember the Magnum,” he hisses. I sink back down and eat some more. I fish in my pocket and find the foil packet. I roll it on as my tongue sinks as deep as possible up him. I open my lube as I rim and pour it on liberally. And I’m up him. He reaches back to make sure I have it on—not believing I can do it so surreptitiously. It’s a contract, dude. I’ll honor it. His ass is tight. It even feels pretty good through the latex. What’s better is having all 6 guys watch us. The two in the front row, make no attempt to watch the screen with a live fuck going on behind them. The two from the corner have moved out into sight now, and the other young guy has joined the stroker. Soon he’s actually going down on the stroker, pissing off my boy who really wanted one of them in his mouth as I fucked. And the door buzzes. He starts to get up. I push him back. And in walks a hetro couple. Fuck—it’s couple’s night here on Saturdays. The suckers separate like a lightning bolt came between them. The guys in the front row rise and mutely offer their seats. The man and woman are in their 50’s, well dressed and looking for something naughty. He’s a little drunk. She nods to the men and starts to the front row….then hears my hips slapping on bare ass. She stops. Her eyes have adjusted just enough. She gestures towards us, and in a voice I’m sure she thinks is a whisper, says “George. Look. Gays.” And she stands watching me long dick my hairy piece of ass. My boy turns his face away from them to the wall. His look pleads with me to stop. But I’ll have none of it. I fuck. Harder and louder. I even slap his ass. She’s transfixed—watching this alien species as they rut. What luck to catch such wild game on their urban safari. Finally she pulls her husband along to the front row. I slow and eventually pull out. My man grabs for his jeans and sits down quickly. My cock juts forward, as hard as ever, as I roll the latex off. She glances back. Her whisper carries right to us. “My. He’s a big one…” My partner sinks into his seat, wishing the floor would open. I just smile. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... I am on a vacation. I decided to start posting my Canadian sex on the spot. I had an hours worth of my first bathhouse recorded.... and it vanished into the ether. I am pissed as fuck. I guess I'll be redoing it in the morning... More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Toronto—August, 2012 I have finished the exhausting and time consuming summer job. I took my Dad to several medical appointments we’d put off over the summer, then I escaped for my annual trip to Canada. I visit a major arts festival for a good portion of the week each year, but I always leave time before or after I arrive for a trip to Toronto. This year, it’s before. I know I have a large portion of my summer to chronicle, (not that I had time to play that often), but I’ve decided to write up this trip within days or maybe moments after it’s happened. And with the bathhouse action of Sunday night, getting it down right now is wise. I checked into my favorite bathhouse in Toronto at 8:30pm. I knew it was early, but it was Sunday. I had a hunch guys would be leaving early for Monday morning work. And I was right. I wind my way through the maze of rooms. The numbering system seems to have little rhyme or reason. I finally find my room. I struggle into my cockring, my cock is already beginning to swell, just thinking of ass. I change into a clean jock. Add a wrist band to my left wrist. Combat boots back on, and I’m ready. I turn left. The sling room is right there—through a curtained entrance. How convenient. It’s empty, but there seems to be a hot butt on the fuck bench. I can see little about him—young, smooth body, his face is buried in his towel and he seems to need a good fucking. I put my water bottle under the bench and lean in. My tongue connects with his hot, moist hole. He jumps—I haven’t touched him to let him know I’m there. I reach up and spread his cheeks. I eat ass as if I haven’t had any for months—not quite true, but for a couple of weeks for sure. He’s breathing hard--and moaning loud enough to attract four or five guys to the open doorway. I’ve lubed my cock as I lick and spit into him. I rise up and let it rest on his ass cheeks. I give him a chance to tell me to rubber up, but instead he grunts out “Fuck me.” I am in him. He instantly rears up, all but pulling me out of him. I roughly push him down again. I pull all the way out. He hits his poppers and I re-enter. “Oh, fuck that’s good,” he groans. I pound him. I take out all my frustration with the traffic in the long drive there. My balls noisily slap his ass. He groans into his towel. I slow, pull out, taste his hole again and then re-enter. He arches up again and asks for a break. I slip out and he thanks me. One of the onlookers has gotten into the sling. I go over. He smiles up at me. In the red light over the sling, he could be anywhere from 28 to 42. He appears to be some sort of Hispanic mix—slight of body with a pronounced nose and a rampant dick with a generous foreskin. His cock is drooling, and he is beating it furiously. “You want this cock up you--straight from his ass?” I ask him. He nods. I kneel and begin eating his hole out. He squirms and slaps the top of my head with his cock. I move up to his balls, then slide my tongue all the way back down to his pucker. I do it again, but this time include a quick swirl of his cock head, collecting some of his precum. I rise. A crowd is watching us. A built Black man is now behind the sling, twisting the sling guy’s nipples. To my left a young white boy is stroking a sizable cock. To my right, a short Asian is on his knees servicing a large bear, who occasionally runs a hand over the belly of the man in the sling. I enter. I sink home. No need of poppers to open his hole, his ass just swallows me up in one long glide. I rest for a fraction of a second, then pull almost all the way out and slide in again. I watch his face contort in pleasure. I am soon fucking him hard and fast. His eyes never leave my face. When I need to pause, I pull out and taste his hole. It’s wet with my copious precumming. I rise and look at the young white guy beating his meat. “You want to try his hole?” He nods, and to my surprise, slips his cock right in, raw and drooling. He is long, but not thick. It’s a welcome break for the fuckee. I kneel by the side of the sling, gnawing on his nipple. His arm holds me in place, locked around my head in wrestler’s grip. The boy batters his ass. I think he may cum, but he pulls out without shooting. I dive for his cock and clean it. He looks at me in admiration and moves off. Tasting the ass on his cock makes me super hard. I rise and am fucking him again. The bear has cum down the Asian’s throat. A hot otter in his 30’s is there with a great looking cock. He watches me fuck intently. I grin at him and gesture to the ass I’m fucking—an open invite. He nods and replaces me. He slips in and really pounds the man. Chains rattle. I stand to the side and work both his nipples with my fingers. The otter slows and pulls out. He’s seen me with the other boy—he presents his cock for me to clean. I get on my knees and lick, making sure I get between his head and his foreskin. I rise and enter. The man in the sling looks up at me with what?—Wonder?--He is in his own Treasure Island video. He is beating like crazy. I know it can’t last. He shoots as I drive myself home. His arc of semen hits just below his left nipple. I mop it up with my fingers and feed it to him, as I slowly pull out. He cleans my finger. I help out of the sling. We hug and he staggers away to the showers. I wander. I have some adequate head in a dark room. As I leave it, a hot 50-something runs his hand over my semi-hard cock which is sticking half out of my jock. He’s gym built, but not recently. Silver at the temples and a round, firm ass. “Come back to my room.” He tugs on my cock. I follow. He has a double bed room. “Do you rim?” I don’t answer, I just push him down on all fours and dive in. He moans and reaches back with one hand to help me part his firm ass. I rise and spit on his hole. I smear it around with my cock head. I enter him. He takes a hit of poppers and passes them to me. I take a hit. They are strong. I am fucking him as hard as I can. And without warning, I cum. I can’t believe it. I usually go hours before I drop a load. He’s thrilled that I creamed his ass and tells me to find him again. I go to my room and sleep. It’s an hour later. I have woken up. Hard and eager for more. I open the door. A cute enough cub is right there. He sets down his towel, laden with stuff. He sucks me with no real enthusiasm, but more out of a sense of duty. I stop him and lick his ass. He hands me a rubber from his towel. I give it back to him and pull out my own Magnum. I over lube and try to enter. Eventually I get in. He is gasping and telling me how good it is. After all the raw sex, I am feeling nothing. Literally nothing. I tell him I need to stop. I peel the rubber off and toss it away as he gathers his 8 different brands of condoms (none of them large) and all the free lube he’s collected. The sling is empty. The boy is back on the fuck bench. It’s a total repeat of our first encounter. I make the rounds of rooms. I have a huge selection of ass to choose from. I finally pick a hole that looks shiny with lube or cum. It’s gaping just slightly. The man is slightly younger than me, dark hair, likely Hispanic. I linger at the door. My cock clearly visible in my jock, my towel slung over my shoulder. I’m invited in. I clamber up on the bed. His ass is elevated by the pillow. I lean forward and taste. I am pretty sure it’s cum. I lap and swallow. I rear up and slip my cock in him. “Fuck yeah. Churn the two loads I have up there.” I do. I pull out, bringing some of the cum with me. I lap it up. Guys crowd into the room. He gestures for me to shut the door. I get up and do. “It’s good seeing you again.” I look down as he’s turning 90 degrees on the bed, so I can kneel on the floor to eat him out. I hadn’t seen his all of his face before. It’s the guy I christened Cowboy Boots at my first Cum-Union party and who I later played with again in Detroit. We chat. Then it’s back to some serious fucking. And eating all the cum my cock pulls out of his remarkable ass. Finally, we agree to open the door to see if we can find another guy to seed him. I do. And slip back in. A young guy comes in to jerk. And I shoot again. I sleep another hour. I check back with Cowboy Boots. “No more loads, but a couple of guys pushed yours up deep.” I accept the challenge to try to get them out. I fuck and slurp my remains. A handsome young Black man steps into the room. “You eating out my load?” he asks. I nod—telling him it’s been mixed with mine. He cock swells and I let him into Cowboy Boots’ ass. He fucks. I clean his slippery cock and spit it back on the hole. It’s my turn to fuck. The Black man strokes, eyes intent on my disappearing cock. “I have to cum!” I step aside. He just makes it into the hole before he unloads. I clean up his fresh load off his cock. I lovingly clean up the ass. I fuck. It’s my turn to shoot. I am in shock. I shoot my third load of night in about 4 hours. Cowboy Boots hugs me and tells me I better tell all my readers about it. I think I just have… More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Toronto—August, 2012 I woke up at Steamworks at about 3:30am. Horny. Still. I scouted the halls. Nothing. I was due to leave in an hour anyway and decided not to renew as I needed some better sleep. I walked the streets of Toronto back to my car, curled up in the front seat of my Ford Focus, long legs up on the passenger side of the dashboard and slept until breakfast called… Later, I saw a fuck-bud/friend (who I’ll be meeting for sex later on in the week) for a quick coffee. I told him I was off to go pitch my tent at my final destination, but I lied to him. Oh, I did have the tent up by 6:00pm….but I stopped in for the Nooner at The Cellar before I left town. From noon to 1pm it is a cheap, cheap price to get guys in on their lunch hour. I remember lines out the door as we all queued up to get in right at the top of the hour. It was 12:45 now, so I was hoping the men were all in and ready… My cock jumps as I hug my friend goodbye. I’d do him right now if he had time. He goes off to his bank. I go half a block in the other direction and through the black door with no sign. I am buzzed in. I have a choice of gloryholed rooms to rent. Not a good sign. This bathhouse is truly a cellar, with rooms laid out in a sort of figure eight pattern. I walk past a huge projection TV showing porn. Most of the doors to the rooms now have a gloryhole (with a locked cover) in them I notice. They are all shut. I pass a partitioned area also with sizable holes. But here, the main action seems to happen in the back hallway where it is always pitch black. I find room “N” easily. I shed my clothes quickly and walk back out in my jock and boots. No one is in a room. Well, except for the guy who is never touched the entire time I’m there. Everyone is in the back hallway. I move through the hall easily. Not good. Maybe six or eight guys. A couple of years ago, it would have been so crowded I could not have gotten more than a few steps into the mass of fondling flesh. I’m disappointed. But it’s not about numbers. It’s about finding the right guys. I want to suck some cock. I hadn’t sucked any dick at Steamworks. Yeah, I’d cleaned some off after they had been in someone’s hole—but it’s not the same. I had been totally focused on ass. Now I wanted that explosion of cum going down my throat. A hand snakes out. He grabs my dick. He pulls it towards the back wall where he in kneeling, but I can’t see him. He sucks. It is ok, but not great head. More hands appear out of the gloom and tweak my nips. A tongue goes in my ear. A hard cock is against my ass crack. My sucker rises when he gets me hard. He tugs me towards the entrance. “Come fuck me.” I shake my head and move away into the darkness. I find a broad furry chest. With those huge, eraser sized nipples. My mouth goes right to them. Eventually I kneel and find a slightly curved cock. He’s cut, with a very small head, but it keeps widening into a thick base. I take it all down my throat. Eventually he pulls out of my mouth and tells me just to use my hands on the head. I do. I work far too long. He moves away. A pair of massive thighs replaces him. I start to rise and he pushes me down. This guy is hung. With a dripping foreskin. I suck. And suck. I work my tongue under his helmeted dick head. I pull it back, swab it and pull the skin back over it. I nibble it. I suck him to the root. Soon he is beating his cock off into my mouth, brushing the loose skin on my lips and beard. I desperately want him to cum. He works it. And then beats it some more. He turns away to make room for a new comer. This guy sticks his cock in my mouth and blows a thick load in two strokes. I know nothing about what he looks like. But he tasted great. The beater is back. In my mouth. Rubbing the foreskin on my beard. On my nose. On my cheek. Back to my mouth. He’s now really dripping. But he can’t, or won’t, shoot. I finally have to get off my knees. I sit on a bench and watch the porn. I get some head from a decidedly older man. At least I can see him. He’s good. But I need cock in my mouth. I head back to the dark hallway. No one. I wander, pausing at the gloryhole partitions. There he is. The beater. I step towards him—he can’t beat through a hole. I suck him hard—and for quite a bit longer before he returns to the beating routine. But this time I have him. He starts to shoot. He tries to pull it from my mouth, but I wrest it from him. His semen is bitter. But it’s a huge load. I jerk frantically as he coats my throat. Fuck, yes! I shoot on his bare feet, webbing his toes… More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Lake Ontario—August, 2012 I have been coming to this sleepy town in Canada for many years. It took me the first 10 years to track down the cruising area. I’d found a park in the downtown instantly. I had eyed guys going into the men’s room and been cruised while sitting on a park bench, but I swore my old Damron Guide Book was wrong—this couldn’t be the real cruising ground. It was just a too crowded and too family oriented an area. About seven years ago, on an impulse, I took a side road before I got downtown. I don’t know why. It led to a conservation area. Dog walkers and fags. Many times they were one and the same. I was in a cocksucker’s paradise. I park. I read. I look at the view. Lake Ontario is choppy today. But the sky is very blue. It’s so clear that I can see Toronto across the water—90 miles away. It’s a quiet morning. A straight couple is my only company as they walk their three dogs. They soon get in their black Land Rover and leave. I walk to the cliff edge. There is major erosion here. One of the huge trees has toppled onto the beach below since I was here last year. I hear a car on the gravel. A lone man. He parks next to my car and gets out. He’s sixty-ish, in shorts and a rather loud shirt. He sees me. His hand brushes his crotch, quite by accident of course, as he tucks his shirt into shorts. I stick my hands in the pockets of my pants and amble towards the woods. He follows. I stop and look at the view. He stops to tie his shoe. I move towards a hidden path to get us out of the main park. He stops and checks the parking lot for other cars. I step over the remains of the rusty fence. He stops to admire the view. And touches himself. He notes where I am going. I head down the path, high weeds surrounding me. I make it to a huge old maple tree. And wait. He takes his time. But he’s ready. When he rounds the bend, he is holding a very hard cock under his shorts. I grasp mine through the fabric of my pants—outlining the length and girth of it. He takes his out. Uncut with a fiery red head. He peels it back. He looks at me. Almost pleading. I’ve made him be bold. I walk down the slight slope towards him, crunching through the brittle leaves. “You want that sucked?” He nods. I sink down on my haunches. I take his cock out of his hand, letting the head retract under all that skin. My tongue snakes out. I touch the wrinkled end. A single drop of precum. I lick it away. I suck him into my mouth. My tongue works under the foreskin. My hand goes up to help peel it all pack. He sighs as it’s exposed in my mouth and my tongue laps gently at it. I suck harder. He goes as far as to fuck my face a little. The squirrels are making noise in the brush around us. It makes him nervous. “Show me yours.” I get up and undo my belt and zipper. He touches me tentatively. The contact makes his cock jump. He strokes me, but makes no move to suck me. I sink to my knees. I want his cum. I suck some more. “I can’t get off here.” He pats my head. “I’m too nervous.” He gets his cock back in his pants. “There’s a car.” I hear it coming down the gravel. I look in that direction—it’s impossible to see it from where we are hidden. When I turn back to him, he’s gone. I watch him step over the rusty fence. I wait a bit, rearrange the package, and amble back to my book. More...