FelchingPisser

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...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Lake Ontario—August, 2012 I had time the next day to head back to the dog walk/conservation area. Two cars were in the lot. I read for a bit, then decided to walk around and see if there was any “trouble” to get into… I walk away from the lake, across the expanse of sun parched field and into the new growth of trees. As I round the first corner, there they are: two men and a Boston terrier. Just talking. I smile and nod and continue on down the trail. The man doing all the talking I recognize from previous years here. He is older than I, short and balding, with quite a few extra pounds. He loves to talk and tell stories—stories that ramble until he has lost track of why he is telling that particular tale. I love the look of the other guy: he’s taller than me, thin, with a promising bulge in his track shorts. He’s in great shape for being in his late 60’s. He tosses a stick for his dog to chase as I amble on down the brambled path. I give them a little time—then make a U-turn and head back. I duck under a low branch—and there they are. The short guy is on his knees, sucking the very large cock of the tall, grey haired gentleman. The dog is scampering around, licking at the big guy’s crotch, as Daddy gets head. They wave me over to join them. I unzip. I pull out my growing cock. The large guy goes from one to the other. It feels good, but I’m not fully hard. My mouth is on Daddy’s nipple. My hand is on Daddy’s hairless, totally smooth ass. I know what I want. I kneel behind those long, long legs. I pull apart his ass cheeks and begin licking. He looks at me over his shoulder. Then he bends over, surrendering to my invading tongue. His cock pulls out of the Talker’s mouth—Daddy doesn’t care—he just leans on his former cock sucker’s shoulders. I feel a hot tongue on my balls. There is no way the fat guy could bend that far over… Nope, it’s the dog. Damn, he’s good, too. I shoo him away, but he’s back instantly. I ignore him and spread his cheeks apart with my hands. His hole tastes great, salty and moist. Then the cock sucker starts talking. He goes on and on about another cruise place, and it deflates both our cocks. The dog starts barking—warning us of approaching dog walkers. We clothe ourselves in plenty of time. The terrier scoots away to welcome a standard poodle. We try to wait out the intruders, but they are playing catch right by the entrance to the path . No more sex for now. “I remember you,” says the talker. “We had a long talk last year.” And then he proceeds to resurrect the entire conversation. I nod. And nod. “I remember your tongue,” says the tall man. “You rimmed and fucked me at the bathhouse in Fort Erie.” I smile and nod, not remembering him at all. But now I write a blog. And I think I will. I promise that I’ve never had the dog before… More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Near Lake Ontario—August, 2012 I didn’t actually have sex on Thursday. I know. I’m stunned, too. I did find two seniors sucking cock in the woods, but they seemed to want to show off and were not really looking for company. I simply smiled at them, nodded at the top who was enjoying getting his larger than average penis sucked, and continued on my way. Later in the day I was very aware of a young man’s eyes on my cock at the row of urinals. There were about eight of us pissing before a performance. The man at the end of the set of the ten urinals was there first. As the rest of us came in and unzipped, he pushed his hips father and farther forward, making sure no one could see his cock. He must have been all but humping the dripping back wall of porcelain by the time he was done. The ninth man came in and went in one of the booths to piss. He couldn’t bring himself to shoulder his way in between us all. Some were able to pull it out with barely unzipping. Some unbuckled and opened their entire trouser front—though none, to my practiced eye, looked like that was necessary. The man next to me, the one doing the looking—and with the largest wedding band-- was discreetly holding his cock so his hand covered most of it. He made no signs to flash it at me. We all stood staring straight ahead of course. Except for the young man. And me. I, of course, was standing a good distance away from the urinal—showing it all off once again. And I was the only one with a smile on my face….. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Fort Erie—August, 2012 The last time I was at this sauna, built in the 1930’s, it was rundown and showing its age. It had little in common with any of the slick and gleaming spas of Toronto or Chicago. It was a true steam bath. The weathered wood seats in the steam room could give you splinters. Windows in some of the rooms could not open or the glass was cracked. But there were fun men who went there. I gave it another try. It has been purchased by a spa chain. Everything is new, clean and best of all, there are more play areas. There is now a gloryholed slurp ramp, a dark video room with two beds, a sun deck with places to fuck, and best of all, a sling. I arrived when it opened that day, at 10:00am. I wanted to catch the lunch crowd and I had a great 6 hours. Here are a few highlights… The handsome attendant lets me in. He tells me my room is upstairs, gives my crotch a squeeze and says he hopes I’ll save some for him--as I had last year. I nod… I strip and go back down to the steam room. I want some unwinding time in the hot, damp room. An older gentleman is already there. As the steam billows around us, we fondle each other. When I can no longer breathe, we go to the upstairs video room. There are two triangular padded platforms where you can relax and watch the video. Or fuck. And that’s what the older gentleman needs. I eat his hole for a while—getting him wet and slick. I stand up and beat my cock on his hole. “Fuck me with your raw cock.” Well, that answers that question. I do. I love fucking guys who know how to use their hole. He milks and squeezes my cock with the best of them. We only stop because we both want to see who else has arrived. We go downstairs. The second smaller, drier steam room is packed. A furry otter of about my age is the ring leader. His mouth is everywhere: on a shaved headed ex-military man in the top corner; on me when I sit beside him; on another beefy top who stands in the corner; on the older gentleman who follows me in. Soon Bill, the otter, is going back and forth between me and Mr. Ex-Military. The top has slid up the ass of older gentleman, fucking him noisily. Mr. Ex-Military can’t take all the attention. I am pinching his nipples as Bill sucks his big cock. He warns Bill he’s about to blow. Bill doesn’t move away. He takes the load, groaning loudly. Then, for whatever reason, Bill leans over and snow balls the load into my mouth. I can’t believe it. We kiss hungrily. It cements us as a team for the rest of the day. The heat becomes oppressive. Bill and I go up to the video room beds, followed by the older gentleman and the top from the corner. It’s now about ass eating. I eat Bill’s. His hole seems as hungry as the rest of him. Before I can slide in, he begs to eat my ass. I get on all fours and let his tongue enter me. I can hear the sounds of fucking from the other bed from the other two. When Bill tires, I flip over on my back and get my head right to the edge of the padded platform. “Sit on my face,” I tell him. He stands on the floor and lowers his hairy ass onto my tongue. I go deeper than before. He’s sowet now. I slurp and swallow, lick and open him up. Finally I get up, and tell him I want to fuck him. He jumps up on the platform. He gets on all fours. I stand on the floor. I get my head in…he asks me to stop. “Later. Let me get opened up.” The other top hears this, pulls out of the older gentleman and slips his decidedly smaller dick into Bill. He seems to be taking him just fine. I get up on the platform and feed Bill my cock, liking how it is shoved down his throat by the thrust from the fucking. “Try him now.” The other top, a hairy man with a broad chest, pulls out of Bill. His cock is small, but he has lots of wrinkly foreskin covering it. I start to enter Bill again. He panics and clamps down. I stop and we all take a break. Up on the sun deck, I get some head from a new arrival--handsome and the youngest of us there. Bill works on the older gentleman’s cock. A greased up sun worshiper watches us. He gets on all fours and calls the guy who’s giving me head by name, demanding to be fucked. Sucking me has given this guy a raging hard on. He’s up the sun worshipper in no time. I go over and work his nipples as he fucks. Then go around to the sun worshipper’s mouth. He’s all teeth—so I go back to the nipples. Almost instantly, the handsome man grunts and shoots a load deep into the sun worshipper’s guts. I bend to felch. And stand up. He’s not anywhere near clean enough for that. “Fuck his load into me,” pleads the sun worshipper. “Nice and deep.” I pause, then do just that. Then take a very hot shower…. Later in the day, I get Bill in the sling room. I want to trade more rimming time. While my face is buried up his ass, the other top, the older gentleman and the Attendant find us. Soon the Attendant has slipped up Bill’s ass, giving him a major fuck. I eat the Attendant’s ass on the back stroke. The other top sits and watches, stroking. The older gentleman moves over and sits on his cock, fucking himself. When he rises, I crawl over and clean the other top’s cock, leaving him super wet and shiny. He rises and replaces the Attendant up Bill. He fucks him until the chains rattle. I try one more time, but the same thing happens—his hole shuts down with my girth. It’s the Attendant’s turn in the sling. I rim, deeper now. He groans and tells me to plow him. I enter easily and hold. Then do a slow build until I’m slamming him. He grunts. I pull out and the other top takes a turn. He fucks until he’s on the edge of cumming then pulls out. I slip back in. I have found the Attendant’s prostate. He is dripping cum on every stroke. He squirts a huge load—one shot hitting his chin. He goes off to clean up. Bill has ambled away mid fuck. Only the other top and I are left. “Come here,” he tells me. He’s sitting on the chair. He catches my wrist and pulls me down. My face is just above his crotch as he shoots his load into my beard. “There—I thought you’d like that.” He goes off to shower, leaving me licking at my goatee in the dim light of the sling room. Still later—It’s just the Attendant and I left. We are back in the sling room. I lick and chew at his freshly showered hole. I pull back and look at his inviting pucker. “Can I breed you?” “Fuck yeah.” “Yeah,” I say, “Keep it in you the rest of the day.” I open him. I fuck. I rim. I fuck. I swallow his copious ass juices. I fuck harder. I take a hit of poppers. I am going to blow. “Do it,” he tells me. “I’m gonna shoot too.” We shoot at the same moment. A rarity. His spasming hole on my cock feels incredible. I collapse on his chest. It’s 4 o’clock on the dot. My six hours are up. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Toronto—September, 2012 I was back in Toronto for the evening. Arturo and I had met two summers ago at a BBRT organized orgy in that city. He may be diminutive in height, but he has an oversized sex drive. He’s originally from somewhere in Iberia. His darker skin always looks hot and sexy on the white sheets where we play. Last year he organized a sex party for my visit. This year,his boyfriend is away, so we are meeting one on one—and inviting others over after we have a little alone time. He lets me into his apartment. He’s just home and cleaned up—wearing nothing but pajama bottoms. His bare chest is the color of cinnamon. We kiss. It’s been a year… We catch up. I shower. We talk a little more. I love his sense of humor. And how we recognize and celebrate each other’s sex drive. We move to his bedroom. I sprawl out—it feels so good to be on a real bed after a week of air mattress and sleeping bag. He takes my semi-hard cock down his throat. He swallows. I grow thicker. He does it again. I grow longer. I roll him over and fuck his throat. I pull up long gobs of spit. He’s panting. And has a huge smile on his face. I suck his long, thin cock—it looks huge on his petite body. He is drooling pre-cum. I bend him up so his ass in in my face and spit it all on his hole—and use a finger to work it into his ass. “Your pre-cum needs to lube your hole.” He shivers at the words. I continue to lick his ass. “Get on all fours.” He does—right at the edge of the bed. I kneel on the floor and really bury my face in him. I can pull his cock back to keep swabbing it with tongue. I spit again. I eat and chew on his pucker. Another swipe of his cock with my tongue. I spit again. I rise and slap my cock head against his hole. “It’s been so long,” he grates out. I mutter agreement, but I’m too busy working my cock head into him. He’s loose now. And I sink all the way in. And hold. “Fuck, you feel good,” I murmur. I’m fucking slowly. Long strokes. I all but pull out. Then just lean into him and sink it slowly to the hilt. And again. I finally build to an athletic fuck. I pause, pull out and roll him onto his back. He holds his legs up by the knees, as I sink down and taste what I’ve done to his ass. The mix of his ass lube, his pre-cum and mine is heady stuff. I rise and sink into him again. I fuck. Hard. We pause, both feeling a little winded. We break, to see if either of the two men he’s talked to are online again. The top cancels—I’m too kinky for him—never mind none of that is coming out tonight. “Wait until you see the ass I got for you,” Arturo tells me. “I’ll rim it and you fuck it.” There is a lengthy back and forth with the owner of this truly beautiful ass. We give him the address—and he never shows. We go back to the bed. He gives me a terrific massage, loosening the shoulders that have got so tight from the nights in the tent. I relax. He leaves me alone for a bit. When he comes back, I get him back onto the bed. I want to drill him. Drill him and seed him. “You want my cum?” I ask as I enter him roughly. “Yes. Fill me up. Fill me with your cum.” He continues to ask for it as I fuck. I pull out for a second and lick his wet hole. I slip right back in. I fuck. I lick once more. I enter him roughly—just in time—I shoot my two day load into his clasping butt. “Fuck!” He moans. “Yes…” And I get to sleep in a bed tonight. With my arm wrapped around him. Tight. More...

Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... On Lake Ontario—September, 2012 I didn’t want to pitch my tent all over again for my final night in Canada. As luck would have it, Bill, the man I’d met at the sauna on Friday, had invited me to his cottage after I was through with watching my final evening performance. I called him. He was still up for my visit. He offered a free bed and some breakfast if he could suck me off tonight. I got on the highway, and then any number of dark country roads, to find him. I finally did, and dodged the marauding skunk in his driveway. I knocked… The unfinished cabin is dark—except for the huge flat screen. On it are four guys working over a young woman. “That lucky bitch gets to take all their loads,” he tells me as I toss my bag on the floor by the couch and settle down next to him. He’s ready. More than ready. He has my pants open and my dick out in no time. He deep throats me. I work my hand down the back of his cutoffs to play with his ass. He grunts around my cock I go down on him. We sixty-nine. I eat his ass. Soon, we move to the bed for more room. He wants me up his ass. He sticks a dildo up himself—much too roughly in my book. He decides he better not try my cock. We sixty-nine a little more. He rolls off me and starts jerking. He asks me about my deceased partner. I tell him a little. He keeps humping his hand. He asks about my porn shoot. I tell him about Jayson in much detail. He talks about a good straight bud, who used to come over to fuck him. Now his wife keeps his friend too busy around the house to visit. He tells me how he had a three-way with a male/female couple. How he was able to sneak a little cocksucking of the other guy under the guise of tasting her juices on the other man’s cock. Then he goes into great detail about eating out her cum filled pussy. How it would get him so hot, he’d cum in her instantly after he was done. I tell him about my first felch—and what it did to me. All the while we are beating our cocks—but it’s relaxed, pleasant, a great change. Out of nowhere he squirms around and fires his load into my mouth. I am nowhere close to cumming, but will myself to get there. I succeed and cover his chin and tongue with my seed. We sleep soundly. The next morning, the eggs are great, swimming in butter. He makes me promise to look him up next year. I agree. I get in my car and start the long 6 hours home. More...

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Click here to see Felching Pisser's original blog post... Bay area, MI—September, 2012 I crossed the bridge from Canada back to Michigan with absolutely no problems. I had a custom officer straight out of porn casting. His dark hair was high and tight. He filled out his uniform so that it was skin tight. The short sleeved shirt cut into his tanned biceps. His loosened tie exposed a mat of unruly hair poking out from the neck of his undershirt. It was a hot day so his pits had begun to stain the kahki shirt—enough to make my cock jump. I was on my way after three questions—no strip search needed. I was still horned from sex almost every day. I didn’t go home. I went to a motel near the great Adult Bookstore in the Bay area which I wrote about here. One admission gets you in to a “theatre” for straight porn, a “theatre” for gay porn and 14 or so booths—half straight, half gay. I napped in a real bed, had an early dinner and went to seek what trouble I could get into…. There is a decent crowd, considering that it is Labor Day. I get head from several older gentlemen. I suck a good looking guy who is exceedingly nervous. Now, I’m stroking, watching the straight porn in the theatre. I am sitting alone in the back row of the plastic lawn chairs, near the door. I am hard. Dripping. My precum, a little lube and a little residual spit makes my hand glide easily over my fat mushroom head—the head that had just made some hapless man gag. The door opens. I don’t even bother to look. Or to hide my cock. “You’re back.” I instantly recognize the accented voice. It’s my hot young man from the last time I was there. I look over to him lounging against the wall. Today he’s wearing a tight T-shirt--with a band’s name I’ve never heard of. He’s opened his jeans and his cock is sticking out above the band of his white briefs. He slowly pulls the waistband of his Jockeys’ down and exposes his long, thin uncut cock. He moves toward me. “You want?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, but sticks it in my mouth. I suck on it, digging under the foreskin. I finally reach up with my hand and peel back the skin. He sighs as my tongue connects with his exposed dick head. The door opens. We make no move to recover. It’s one of the older men. He leans against the wall, watching us and groping himself. All too soon my young Hispanic friend pulls out of my mouth and bends over. He takes three quarters of my cock down his throat. He moves around, kneeling in front of me. Now he can take it all. I reach out to stroke the longish black hair. The older man moves to me and offers a fat cock for me to suck as I get head. I do. When he sees what I’m doing, the young man stops. Shit, he’s pissed I am playing with someone else. But no, he joins me, sucking the man’s balls while I swallow his length. Soon, we are doing that porn thing of lips on either side of his cock—running them back and forth. Our movements keep sliding off the man’s cock and ending in long, deep kisses. He is fumbling in his pocket. He pulls out a black Lifestyles condom. He desperately tries to roll it down my cock. I dig in my pocket and hand him a Magnum. He gets it on me. I sink to my knees as soon as I’m suited up. He bends over, presenting his ass to me. The older man enters his mouth as I lick his thickly haired crack. I add lube to my covered cock and stand up to enter him. “Fuck,” I hiss. He’s tight. But I’m in. And the sound of my hips smacking his bubble butt fills the theatre. He grunts. He moans around the cock in his mouth. And he shoots in no time. It’s a massive load, coating the stained linoleum of the back row. He goes to have a smoke. I peel off the condom and continue my jerk. Thirty to forty minutes later (after totally unmemorable play) he’s back. “Fuck me again, Papi.” I dig out a second Magnum. This time we are alone. I eat his hole. He’s washed it for me, thinking I would hate the taste of the lube from the first time. I go deep and he holds onto one of the chairs, putting a knee up on the seat to give me better access. I roll the condom on as I eat his hot, hot hole. I rear up. I’m in him. He reaches back to check for the condom. “I fucked you raw last time,” I whisper in his ear. “I know, but….” He leaves it unfinished as the waves of pleasure from me pummeling his prostrate take over. He lasts longer, but soon he is shooting as big a load as the first on the seat of the chair. Immediately he’s off to watch Pawn Stars in the hall lounge. I play some more, rather half-heartedly with the guy who had been with us before. I resign myself to not getting off. An hour later, I have to go to my motel. I have to meet my Dad in the morning for his Dr.’s appointment. I am literally at the door to the back room, my hand on the knob, when he’s there. “One more time?” “I’m out of condoms.” It’s the truth. “Do me bare like last time.” He’s pulling me to the end booth. We lock the door. He wants no one to see him taking raw cock. I am so ready. I pull my pants down, he sits on the bench in the booth and gets my head and shaft very wet. I pull him up. No rimming this time. I enter him easily. Not so tight the third time—and with skin on skin, I slide home easily. “Did you like when I fucked you like this last time?” “Yes, Papi.” I am losing all control after over three hours of play. “Where do you want it?” “Breed me, Papi. Shoot in me like you did last time.” Jesus, that’s all I need. I shoot up his ass. I can’t stop. I buck and shoot and groan into the nape of his neck. He may have stroked out a third load, I’m too lost in my own orgasm to know. I slowly pull out of him. I sink to my knees. He looks over his shoulder, still leaning against the wall, concerned. I look at his ass. The forest of black hair in his crack. I pull the full cheeks apart. A single drop of white semen hangs outside of his hole. I just stare at it. I start to tell him how beautiful it is…but instead, my tongue snakes out and licks the outside of his hole clean. The perfect ending to my trip... More...