Monorchid

I always suck my partner clean after he's fucked me. It's especially good when he reminds me what he just did, "Suck the cock I fuck you with, Queerboi."

I got the meaning of your screen name straight away - I've played with blind and deaf guys several times and found them to be very sensual. I've learnt plenty from them.

Mine is a literal description... I have one testicle... Not that it affects my sex life at all 😜

Your basic premise is over-simplified. Active-passive, sub-dom and top-bottom are three, different, intersecting continua - it's quite possible for someone to be Active-Bottom-Dominant or Passive-Top-Submissive, for example. For me, I'm mostly bottom, fairly active and hover around the neutral of sub-dom. With my partner, I can be a dominant active bottom, or a submissive active bottom depending on our mood. I'm never a passive submissive bottom - that would seem to make me no more than a sex toy, which isn't what we're up for (although I appreciate others go for that...) Overall, the situation is more complicated than your original question implies.

Yes and no... I'll suck any (clean) cock and he can fuck me after, too. Part of what I get off on is making him feel good and receiving his cum. But I need a certain size if I'm going to really get off, and give him my best. Long enough to choke on and thick enough to feel him fuck. I've taken over 10" (once) and given my best to 4" too, more than once.

There's a special sore throat I get from taking cock in my throat, which I really like - the slightly hoarse voice and tickley cough... Anyone else get this and enjoy the reminder of what you are?

I definitely like it when my partner goes at me hard, especially when he's wearing a larger PA. The sore throat and arse the next day (or two) is always a nice reminder, too. As for marks and bruises - I love them too... I have a bite-mark tattoo taken from a real bite and the next tattoo is likely to be based on the scratches and bruises I get from my partner fucking me.

I went to meet a guy and he didn't look away from his phone from the moment I arrived. After about 2 minutes sucking his limp cock I said "sorry mate, you're obviously not interested" and left. When I got out of the Tube there were a pile of messages - starting with sorries and ending with insults. Needless to say he got blocked.

Sehr richtig!

Not viable as a business any more...

These are the boots I bought from the sale (one as is, the other after one polish) - they're going to have been hanging from the ceiling for 20+ years...

The Backstreet, London’s last remaining gay fetish club worth the name, closed its doors for the last time in the early hours of Sunday 17th July 2022. I first went in 1998 when I came to London as a mature student. It was a regular Friday night with my new friends, and I was enjoying exploring the kinkier side of my nature. I’d come from a Conservative (Big-C) city where the scene, such as it was, was pedestrian at best. We sat by the DJ console, chatting with the other guys in the club. It was always social, much more so than other similar London clubs. Yes, you could suck cock at the bar – get fucked there, even – but that was never the prime focus of The Backstreet. The venue had an identity beyond its existence as a fetish club – it had a personality of its own and gave a place for communities to develop. That friends group drifted apart and I got involved with SM-Gays, so I started going to the more heavily fetish oriented clubs in Vauxhall and Bow for a few years, then dropped out of the scene completely for a while. I’d started preferring saunas – the same social atmosphere in the small independent places, and I found I liked being naked. I met a new group of friends – a gay nudist group who met at a sauna on Fridays and went to the Wednesday night Boots Only sessions at The Backstreet. This was yet another community The Backstreet was supporting – a diverse group of guys, all shapes, sizes, ages, disabilities and social positions. It could only exist in such a non-judgemental place. The owner and staff always supported and looked after their customers, and their regular customers were (still are) fiercely loyal. I went to the closing sale – I’ve got a boot fetish, and anyone who knows the place will understand I had to have a pair of boots from The Backstreet (the ceiling was hung with boots of all types.) I had hoped I’d find a pair (or even one) I could make into something suitable – a doorstop, maybe – but I found a pair which fit me and I’ve started restoring them. Every time I wear them, I’ll remember that time I got fucked over the bar while ordering a drink, or the discussion of jam making while sitting naked out the back smoking cigars, or any of countless other memories. I was so glad to be able to personally thank the owner and manager. The Backstreet will be missed.

I used to regularly get fucked in public - parks, beach, night, day... I never cared and neither did my fucker

there was an early 20's guy used to live a street over from me. We first met and cruised in the street, and then on some contact site - this was before apps. He just sent me a pic of his hard cock and if I was free I'd head round and suck him. No chat, no hands, just suck and swallow. He disappeared after about a year - new job? Graduated? Who knows.

I hope there's more of this - I could be The Stud or The Prey in this...

Reckon it's a bit of both 😜

Anywhere he wants, really - do like walking round a club or sauna with cum on my face, though. Tells everyone I'm a cocksucker...

Indeed - there wasn't quite so much fucking, of course...

Cheers Medwaym 😀 I'm sort of basing it on the guys I hung around with at Rabbit's age (about 15 years after I've set the story.) They were great guys.

As soon as we got to his room, Boots threw me face down on the bed and plunged in hard, Loz and Rat’s cum squelching between us and soaking his Y-fronts. “Arhg, Boots!” I sighed as we bounced on the mattress. “You like it, eh, Rabbit?” “Fuck yes!” He sped up, and soon pumped more cum into me. When he pulled out, I span round to clean him but he palmed me away, pulling his Y-fronts off and wiping his cock with them. “Damn, how do you stay hard like that?” “Just do. Can cum at least three times before I go down. But tonight I’m just gonna sleep in you and fuck again in the morning.” With that he hauled the blankets up, slid in behind me and eased in as we fell asleep. True to his word, I was woken when he started plunging into me. I just whimpered, clamping and wriggling on his shaft. It wasn’t long before I was taking my fifth load of spunk since last night. He got up, wiped his cock on yesterday’s Y-fronts and tossed them to me, “Souvenir,” he smiled, and quickly dressed. I sniffed the pants then pulled them to head upstairs for breakfast. “Great wankpants, there, Rabbit!” Rat grinned, and groped me as I went past. “Hmmm, still wet.” He licked his smiling lips and headed out. Once we’d eaten, Boots let me out by the shop, giving me a hard deep kiss on the way, “See you later, Rabbit!” he called after me and I practically floated back to halls. As soon as I got in my room, I stripped to my new pants and pulled my aching balls and rigid cock through the Y like they’d showed me. It took only a minute or so for me to soak them with my own load. Needless to say, I didn’t get much work done, but there were no assignments due. I wore my wankpants for the rest of the weekend, only showering on Monday morning before lectures. At GaySoc on Tuesday, Russell droned on about something about age of consent and legal shit, but I wasn’t paying attention – I could smell Keith’s sweat and just wanted to get in his pits and on his cock. When we got to the bar, I couldn’t help openly sniffing him. He looked at me a bit awry but I just smiled at him. As we finished our second pint, I leaned closer and said, loud enough for the rest of the group to hear, “Let’s go to my room so you can fuck me.” His face went beetroot, but I saw his bulge twitch and nudged him when I stood up, “Well, you cumming or not?” He scrambled after me and five minutes later we were on my bed, my face in his pits and his cock in my arse. Luckily, I’d managed to use the shower to douche earlier, but it had been awkward. There was a letter from my mum in my pigeon hole the next morning – they were visiting at the weekend and we were going for dinner for her birthday. I’d planned to go to the club Friday, but figured it’d be a bad idea. Turned out, the visit gave me a chance to get some new clothes. I told them I needed jeans, T-shirts and boots for the machine shop classes starting after reading week and they were only too happy to buy them. When they left I had two pairs of jeans (one black, one blue,) two polo shirts (black with yellow detail, and dark blue with white,) and a respectable pair of work boots. When the next Friday came round, it was the start of reading week. I had quite a bit of catching up to do, so planned to go to the club then work the rest of the week. I got myself ready – douche but no shower – and pulled on the wankpants (now significantly more cum-stained,) blue jeans and polo and the new boots. I’d been wearing them all week to get used to them and make them look less perfect but they’d given me blisters and my feet ached. I hoped Boots could help me break them in. It was chilly, so I threw on my green canvas snorkel-parka and headed to Boots’ shop. “Just a minute!” he called from the back. “It’s Rabbit!” I called back, and he practically ran to let me through to where he was working on a nasty looking pair of high heels. He sniggered, “Yeah… But that’s the job and these aren’t the worst things girls put on their feet.” He bundled be up in a hug even before I could get my parka off. He got back to work and I sat chatting while he finished off. “I got my parents to buy me jeans, shirts and boots.” “Yeah?” he was intent on his work, but still listening. He looked up when I took off my parka and hopped off the stool so he could see me full length. “Oh, nice. How are the boots?” “Uncomfortable. I’ve got two blisters on each foot.” “You’re wearing them wrong, or they’re not quite the right size. We can do something about that. I’ve got some of those boots and they’re good. You’ll have to learn to care for them, too, ‘cos I ain’t doing all the polishing.” He stabbed me with his eyes wearing a twisted grin, then went back to the shoe. I sat silently watching him work. I realised the odd tangy smell he had under his sweat was glue and shoe-leather. A few minutes later, he tied a tag on them and I followed him through to the shop where he slid them into a rack with a load of other women’s shoes. A second rack had men’s shoes and boots. When he turned to look at me, there was a concerned look on his face, “There’s just one problem…” he said as he came towards me, then he scruffed my hair and laughed. “You look so worried. Gotta do something with this.” “Whoh…” I realised I’d been holding my breath at least since he’d said ‘problem.’ “I wanted to shave, but I’d make a mess of it.” “Come on…” he turned on his heel and left the shop. When I went out, he was standing outside the barber’s next door. We went in and he called out, “Oi! Blades! Got space for a shave?” The two barbers looked round – a plump skinhead, and slim punk with black spiked hair, both a bit shorter than me. “Yeah, take a seat. This the lad you been harping on about, then?” Boots smiled at me, “Rabbit, this is Clipper and Blades.” He indicated the punk and skin in turn, each nodding to me. Blade was snipping away at a guy in his 50s and Clipper was working on a punk with dye and bleach and who knows what. The guy already waiting got seen next for a quick trim, then I sat up in the chair. Blades quickly clippered off my hair then wrapped hot damp towels round my face and head, patting them down. I watched him deftly hone and stop a straight razor, then work up a bowl of lather with his brush. Removing my face towel, he lathered me up and swiftly got rid of my stubble, all the while stroking my cheeks and neck. It was intensely erotic and I was getting uncomfortably hard in my jeans. He slapped a very cold towel on me, then standing behind, lightly slapped my cheeks a few times. He repeated the same on my head, until I was completely shorn. He whipped off the bib and set about cleaning his kit while I looked at myself in the mirror. Then he did the mirror round the back of my head, thing and said, laughingly, “Can I get you anything for the weekend, sir?” and winked at me in the mirror. “Er… No, that’ll be all, thanks. How much…?” he waved the question away and I hopped down to let the next customer in. Outside, I stroked my scalp and felt the breeze over the smooth skin. I was grinning like mad when I went back in to Boots shop. When he finished the brogues he was re-soling, he took me through to the back stairs and stroked my head and face before giving me a long deep kiss. “It’s a while before the shop shuts so go up to the den and get some tea going.” He kisses me again and I headed off upstairs. “Oh,” he called after me, “go see Rat next door, he’ll sort you out with bleachers, then get your boots and socks off and put some salt and vinegar on your blisters. It’ll hurt, but they’ll dry up nice and fast.” I ducked through the back door to the clothes shop and Rat nearly fell of his stool behind the counter, “Rabbit?!” “Hi, Rat. Boots said to come get sorted with bleachers.” Once we’d found a pair that fitted, and a pair of light blue braces, I went up to the den with instructions to wash the jeans in the bath. When I came out of the bathroom, Loz was making tea and getting dinner. He looked me up and down and smiled, “Well, well, ain’t you the fast worker.” He grabbed a shallow enamelled gazunder, dumped some salt and vinegar in it and poured water from the kettle in, “Get your feet in that, Boots’ll deal with the rest.” I took the gazunder, and a mug of tea, into the den and bathed my blisters in the stinging water. Rat came in while later with a skinhead I didn’t know. He was a couple of inches shorter even than Rat, and a bit podgy, “Oi! Rabbit, this is John. How are the jeans?” “Hanging over the bath to dry.” Rat was already stripping to his wankpants as the new bloke sat down. “Let’s go see.” I followed him to the bathroom and he had me strip and put the wet jeans on, then sat me on the hearth in front of the fire in the den to dry faster, “We need to get bleach on these tonight if you’re going to wear them Sunday night.” “What’s Sunday?” I asked, turning to warm the back of my legs. “Special night at the club. Skins, punks, rudies, all sorts really. It’s ska, reggae, twotone, northern soul and stuff.” “All gay?” “Nah. But all friendly. The NF fake skins and their mates wouldn’t dare come.” Just then, Boots came in carrying a bundle of boots by the laces and some socks. “How’s the feet?” “Bit better.” He dropped the boots by the fireside chair and the socks at my feet, “Put the thin ones on then the heavy ones over the top and over your jeans, and try your boots on. Won’t be a mo.” He went off to the kitchen, returning with tea and a cloth drawstring bag. As he sat in the fireside chair, he nodded at my boots, now laced up on my feet, “Better?” “Much, but don’t think I want to be wearing them much for a few days.” “Don’t worry about that,” he laughed, “we gotta get them polished up yet. Might as well get them off. You need a pair of rough boots.” We spent about half an hour trying on the boots he’d brought in until I’d chosen a comfortable pair I liked the look of – these had cleats up the sleeve instead of eyelets, which I thought looked the business. “Grub up!” Loz called from the kitchen, and we all piled in for a bowl of stew. After food, Loz, Rat and John headed down to the club, “Take it you two will be bust up here tonight,” Loz smiled at us. “Yeah,” Boots nodded, “boots to shine and jeans to bleach.” “OK. I’ll buzz if we need you,” and he left. We sat by the fire that evening, Boots showing me how to polish my boots. Warming the old polish over a candle to wipe it off, melting in new polish, brushing and buffing, then just a thin layer, brush and buff. I’d gone over the rough boots and my new ones twice each an hour or so later when Rat came in. “Those jeans dry yet?” he said, stripping. “Yeah, pretty much,” I told him. The three of us headed to the bathroom and Rat showed me how to wet areas of the denim and put bleach crystals on to make a pattern. I went for a wide white streak over the bum seam, with drips going down the back of the legs, and random patches on the front and lower down the back. It tok another hour before they were hanging over the bath drying off. Rat disappeared again and Boots and I went back to polishing, drinking beer, having a spliff and listening to music until the others came up at the end of the evening.

My partner gets quite rough in my throat sometimes - he's 7 1/2" with a heavy PA and really gets off on me choking, gagging and retching round his cock. Always have a sore throat and scratchy cough for a couple of days after. I love that some guys know why my voice has gone raspy.

I think I'm more put off because of the tainted implication. I'm not tainted because I get fucked or lick perineum...

I heard Bob Marley playing as I came through from douching. I’d managed to get my shirt and trousers wet, so was wearing only cotton-knit boxers. Rat looked up, raised his bottle and smiled, “Nice pants! You all sorted?” “Yeah… made a bit of a mess though.” I showed them my clothes. “No matter,” Loz smiled, “you’ll get the hang of it.” Rat passed me a beer, and Boots handed me the spliff then gestured for me to sit on the floor. I say cross-legged leaning on the sofa next to him, close enough to smell his sweat and musk. I took a couple of light tokes on the joint, and turned towards him I handed it back, resting one hand on his thigh. He spread his legs as I took a deep slug of my beer. Looking up past the bulge of his crotch, he locked eyes with me. Eyes which seemed to stab straight through the back of my head, drawing me in. My hands, almost involuntarily, stroked his thighs when I shuffled closer, but as I went to stroke his fly he pushed my hand back, “Not yet… I don’t want no backroom quickie blow job.” I put my head down and rubbed my face along his leg, into the valley between his thigh and crotch. I nearly swooned when I sucked in a lungful of his funk. Moving to the other side, I did the same. I didn’t know if it was the pot or him, but something was making me high. Probably a bit of both. He squirmed a bit, and when I looked up he’d shed his polo shirt, putting his braces back on his shoulders. Slim and defined, with almost no body hair, his muscles flexed as he raised his arms behind his head and I got a strong wave of sweat. I started sniffing and licking up his belly and chest, and was drawn to his left armpit. Every time before, it had been a furtive suck in a toilet cubicle, or quick blow in some holiday chalet – I’d never thought a man’s armpits would be attractive, let alone erotic or sexy. As I got closer, I just knew I wanted to taste every part of him. I hovered next to his nipple, breathing deeply. Huffing as much of the wonderful smell as I could, like it was the air I needed to live. Then I felt his hand in my hair pushing me further, until the hairs brushed my nose and I dived in to lick and rub my face in him. After a while, the smell seemed to wear off, and I kissed round his neck to the other side, the ridge of his cock pressed into my belly through his bleachers. When I got there, I huffed in another huge breath before slavering over the hair. Again, it subsided, and I started licking down, over his nipple, until I could press my face against his cock. He shifted forward in the chair, pressing hard against my face, and ran his hand over my head. I reached up and started popping his fly buttons open, until there was just thin cotton separating us. When I reached to pull his Y-fronts aside, he stopped me, and Rat whispered in my ear, “Through the Y-hole, balls first.” I hadn't realised he’d knelt behind me. It took a while to work out how to pull his balls free so I could get my face in for another hit of his musk. Almost forgetting about his cock, I licked and sucked on his sac, pulling one, then the other, then both balls into my mouth. Then I felt his ridge against my face and, not letting his balls go, struggled to free his cock. He gently brushed my hands aside, “Like this,” and easily pulled himself out. Then rubbed his shaft over my face. “Mmmmmnnn…” I whimpered, slowly letting go of his balls to lick around the base of his shaft. Finally having the opportunity to really enjoy the cock I was going to swallow, I took time to lick all around his length until I could hook my tongue under his heavy foreskin. He tasted of slightly stale piss and cum. I pulled away, drew his ’skin back, licked over the crown and wiped him over my face. I had no idea where this was coming from, I just had to do it. Slowly, I took his knob, then shaft into my mouth. He was big, maybe bigger than anyone I’d sucked, but I hadn’t seen him properly – it was touch and licking and smell. It took three goes to choke him into my throat, and I had to rise up to get a better angle. He had no objection to my choking, gagging, retching and belching over his cock (unlike some guys, I’d already discovered…) so I kept going until his full length sat in my throat and his hair tickled my nose. I pulled of a little to slow down and gather my breath and clear the mucous from nose and throat. That’s when I felt Rat stroking my legs up into my boxers and over my arse cheeks. I clenched my cheeks and he squeezed in return. He groped further up to hook the waistband and slowly pulled my boxers down. I realised my cock was straining the my boxer fly, in a way I’d never known before, when it bent back uncomfortably then slapped my belly. I lifted one knee, then the other, and Rat pulled my boxers away. I was naked in front of these men. I had a flash of school showers after P.E., but this was so different. As Rat started licking and nibbling my thighs, balls and cheeks – making be tingle from my knees to my navel and all up my back – I descended onto Boots again and choked him down, lifting my arse as I did. Rat started moving from my balls, up my root, over my hole to the small of my back. It made me shiver. He did it again. And again. Then started pushing his tongue against my hole as he passed. I did my best to concentrate on Boots, but Rat was being so distracting. He was poking the tip of his tongue into me now, and every time I gagged my hole clenched a little and Rat pushed a little harder. Soon, my hole was throbbing, sending sensations forking down the back of my legs, through my balls and cock, and up my back. Even my nipples itched. It was all I could do to nurse on Boots’ shaft as Rat probed and gently nibbled my ring. I’d completely forgotten where I was, and even that Loz was sitting watching us, until the music changed to Sex Pistols. I looked up as Loz went back to his chair in just Y-fronts and a black, buckle-up shirt. Rat took the opportunity to pull me round to face him. He wiped the spit and mucous from my face and smiled, wiping the goop on his cock and letting me go back to Boots. A moment later, I felt the tip of his cock against me. I tensed a little, and he leant down to lick the back of my neck and whisper, “Relax.” I did my best, and started rocking back and forth. Each time he rocked, my ring opened a little more until I felt his head pop into me. “Argh!” I groaned round Boots’ cock and my body tensed. Rat stayed just where he was, rocking just a little until I relaxed and he started rocking further. There was the hot feeling round my ring, but nothing like with Adrian. As he slowly slid in to me the heat spread and seemed to lessen. Then I realised he was taking long strokes and his balls were pressing against mine when he bottomed out. There was different music playing so it must have taken some time. Boots is stroking my head, leaning forward whispering, “You’re doing really good.” I grinned round his cock and went down as hard and far as I could. When my nose hit his pubes and I choked, my whole arse clenched over Rat all the way inside me and he slowly pulled out as I relaxed. Then slowly pushed back in. Each stroke was a little faster and harder, and I’d started pushing back on to him and gripping him inside. He leant down again and whispered, “This is your first real fuck. We’re your first.” I nodded over Boots’ cock which made me gag and clench. I was starting to cough, and Boots lifted me up, pulling me to him, and kissed me roughly. Rat came up with me, but pulled away on his out stroke. I slumped onto Boots then to the floor, getting my first proper view of Boots’ cock and Rat’s. Boots was definitely the biggest I’d sucked. I guessed 9”, he was wide and flat which explained my aching jaw. Rat was longer than me, about 7”, and fairly slim – not too different to Adrian, but so much better – they both glistened with mucous from my throat and arse. It soon became clear we were taking a break, or maybe they were done. Rat was sitting on the sofa with his cock and balls pulled through his Y-fronts, in fact, Loz had also pulled his out too – between Rat and Boots in length, he was thick and his balls were huge, hanging down to sit heavy on the chair. I took a slug of beer, and a couple of heavier tugs on the joint as it went round. I stared at Rat’s cock. It had been inside me and I needed to taste it so I shuffled forward and licked over his balls then up his shaft. But I didn’t stop – over his belly and chest to his pits. He was different to Boots, but just as intoxicating. When I pushed into the second pit, I felt Boots behind me, rubbing his cock-head over my hole. I slid down over Rat’s chest and belly; Boots moved back with me to keep up the cock-massage, and when I got to Rat’s cock I pushed back and down to take Boots and Rat at the same time. It hurt. I half screamed over Rat’s cock before gagging him down and clamping hard on Boots. “Fuck, yeah.” Boots started an insistent but smooth stroke into me. I was still groaning – the burning was there but I didn’t care. I was getting fucked by this beautiful man and sucking his horny mate who just happens to be the first guy to give me a real fuck. The world had faded away a long time ago. There was just us, the burning pleasure in my arse and throat, the reek of men fucking. It seemed like only moments before Boots’ strokes became erratic, his breathing ragged, and he almost spasmed falling on my back. He throbbed inside me and bit into my shoulder, “NNGGGG….” I was vaguely aware of Rat pushing his fingers in Boots’ mouth and when he released his jaw he yelled out, “AARRGGHH!” He soon plopped out of me and immediately pulled my head to his cock as he sat in the chair. I descended right down on his still hard, cum covered cock. There was shuffling behind me and it had to be Loz pushing himself at my hole. I groaned when he pushed in and the burn came back. But almost as soon as he started stroking into me, I opened to him. Boots pulled away from me, protecting his obviously sensitive cock, and I dropped my head between his thighs. “Oh!… Oh!…” Loz gave a hard but easy fuck. I reached back and felt round his balls and where is cock disappeared into me, “Fuck, yeah! Argh…” He got faster then suddenly stopped, buried in me. I ran my fingers over his balls. Rat leant down and took Loz’s balls in his hand, making a tight ring round the sac with his thumb and forefinger, then pulled. Loz jabbed a few times, then his cock seemed to grow and heat up as his cum literally ran from his cock. It must have been 2 minutes or more before he finally stopped, and cum was dripping from my balls long before he slid out. I span round, rubbed my face over his slackening cock, and licked him into my mouth. I could feel liquid seeping from my hole when Rat started licking and sucking at my arse and balls. I fell forward when Loz went back to his chair, and rolled onto my back. Boots had just changed the music – Plink Floyd, now – and sat smiling at me. I looked over to Rat, stroking himself. “You haven’t cum?” “Takes a while.” He raised his eyebrows at me. I pulled my feet up and lifted my knees. He grinned a snigger and got on his knees, lifting my legs. He bent close and kissed me as his slid easily into me. After Boots’ length and Loz’s girth it almost felt easy. He took long steady strokes. Pulled his knees up so he could sit up while rocking into me., then pulled me to sit up and turned me round. Leaning on the sofa, he rocked slowly and gyrated inside me as we chatted. It was surreal but wonderful. They were talking about how they’d enjoyed me. Sometimes, Rat gave me a jab. He shared spliff smoke with me. I massaged his cock with my arse, fondled his balls and shaft. He felt round his shaft too, and fondled my balls and cock, scooping up the cum leaking from me and wiping it over my cock and, a couple of times, my face. Eventually, Boots slapped him on the shoulder, “You ever gonna cum, Rat?” “Do I have to?” “No, but I want to take this rabbit to bed and fuck him again.” Reflexively, I grinned and clamped hard on Rat’s cock. I grabbed his arse and pulled us forward so my head went into Boots’ crotch. “Oh, fuck.” Rat started full strokes, still easy but now with purpose. I gripped his shaft and stroked his tightening balls until he suddenly pulled out and started wanking hard, his head bashing at me. “Yeahhhhhh!…” His first shot went up my back but he plunged in before he shot again, and out and in, and out and in. Over my back, cheeks, balls, arse, and just inside. He went to lick me clean, but Boots pushed him away, “C’mon, Rabbit.” He hooked his hand in my armpit and I jumped up to follow him. I have no idea why I followed him, but I knew I had to.

For some reason, I really don't like when a guy's perineum, crack and anus are referred to as his taint. Don't get me wrong, it doesn't affect my enjoyment of stories and I'm certainly not judging what guys call their body parts. The word just doesn't seem right, and I wouldn't automatically use it. I think I'd ask a regular partner not to, as well. Thing is, there's nothing tainted about it. I think the problem might come from the lack of slang terms, in comparison to penis slang... What do you guys think?