highpointChip

When the weather warms up I would def be uup for a long weekend at Hillside.

I could really use a camera guy. Specially if you're open minded and not squeamish.

[think before following links] https://adonislounge.com/nyc/

Yes. Many years ago I ran into him at a bathhouse. He was with his BF at the time who was a really cool guy who got off watching Dawson have sex with strangers. So Dawson and I flew into the stratosphere and spent a couple hours fucking each other. I remember eating his ass before fucked him and he was already pretty cummy. It waw real.y hot.

SENTON HOTEL W. 27th Street

Same here. Nothing turned me on more than the secret initiation my neighbor pulled me into. I loved how hard and sweaty i got hearing him identify me as a deviant, faggot.

Do you think it slowly unconsciously might bring them to cock worship?

3 guys. 2 i only found out after we fucked. 1 we planned a meeting in a park.

yes. dirty. sleazy. charge by the hour. full of junkies and used rigs

i want to join you and connect through my bag if rigs

i only want raw twisted chemmed up unsafe breeding.

CHAPTER FIVE I hadn't seen Manny in several years. Since he'd disappeared and left me waiting for him to pick me up at the airport at the start of what was supposed to be one of our weekends together. At first I'd tried for closure, calling and emailing him to find out what was wrong. But after 3 or 4 months of hearing nothing I decided I had to move on. My work sent me to a conference in San Diego and at the end of 5 days of mind-numbingly dull panels and workshops, I was ready to spend the last two days in town fucking my brains out. So I headed over to a bathouse a friend of mine had suggested, splurged for a room with a sling and started my weekend with a long soak in the whirlpool to unwind. I didn't have any drugs with me since I didn't know anyone in S.D. but I figured I could probably just see what I could find in a place where most of the guys were rumored to be tweaked out of their minds. My eyes were closed as i let my body sink down down down into the hot chlorinated bath until my entire head was submerged. I popped up, pushing the water from my eyes and hair and squinting to open them and look around. It was early on Friday evening. And the place was not crowded at all. But as my eyes came into focus, I noticed a beefy muscle daddy showering slowly and methodically directly in my line of vision. Turning around to soap up his crack, his pits, his foreskin, taking care to throughly cleanse and rinse almost every part of his body. After rinsing all the soap from every crack and crevice he turned to face me, a kind of dopey spaced out look on his face. He was almost smiling and he was staring at me and almost smiling. I felt my cock start to swell as I recognized that if he was looking at someone, I was the only person in the general vicinity of his gaze. I scooped some water from the tub and splashed it all over my face and head. It felt good to be so wet. Then I noticed one of his hands reaching behind him. It looked as though he might be fingering his hole or something. But the look on his face turned to one of deep concentration and exertion. What was he doing back there? Then his arm jerked fast out and down a few inches but stopped and I noticed his lips were parted and a long stream of drool was falling out of his mouth and down onto the shower floor. The hand stopped. But then more exertion followed and the arm jerked a few inches further away from his body only to stop dead again. When this happened a third time, I was finally able to make out the outline of a string of ben-wa balls connected with nylon which this daddy was coaxing from deep up inside his guts. Pop. Pop. Pop. And finally he pulled the string and the 5 huge metal balls up in front of his chest to be sure I saw what a good little pig he could be. And then he sniffed and licked and slurped the balls, savoring the flavor of his own pussy. It was clear to me then that this guy was definitely high on something. So I stood up, grabbing my towel and walked in his direction. I went right up to him. He looked like he had maybe forgotten how to walk cause he hadn't moved an inch from his spot. I caressed his cheek, pulled his toy up to my nose for a whiff and whispered "You look like you're in heaven." "Yeah?" "Yeah. I want what he's having," I added. And he kissed me and held his wrist up so I could read his room number. He needed help walking the halls and finding his way back to where he had come from. And I was more than happy to oblige. When we keyed into his room, I think he was not expecting what we found inside. A huge black football player lying on his back with a hot Latino pig bottom sliding up and down his raw greasy 13" fuck meat. It was a beautiful cock and a beautiful ass and not until I heard him moan did I recognize the bottom. "Manny?"

i'm in nyc. dart pig. cum over and slam with me.

are you kidding. thank you for fucking triggering me beyond belief.

would luv to meet to push limits

CHAPTER FOUR "Promise me you'll never party without me." "Promise me you'll introduce me to anyone else you fuck." "Promise me you'll never slam." These were just a few of the limits Manny tried to impose on our partying. And I would only find out years later that I was the only one trying to follow his rules and feeling like a failure every time I strayed. Finally, we broke up under the weight of too little honest communication and two many miles between us. Still, we both wanted to maintain a friendship as much as possible and so every now and then we'd end up camming and smoking or just texting while high, feeling driven to share whatever hot sleazy scene we'd recently stumbled into. When I started fucking a Brazilian nurse who convinced me to try slamming, I was so turned on by the rush that I shared that with Manny. "This body builder is on his way over and he wants to introduce me to my first slam" I texted him at 2AM one Saturday in June. Usually when I sent him a PnP-related text he'd reply with "Fuckkn hot, bud. Send me video" or some variation. In fact, there were many times when I'd be coming home from work on the subway, a text from him would fly in telling me who or what tweaker is breeding his hole this very moment and I'd find myself impulsively texting one of my dealers to score so I could race home, fire up the pipe and cam with him and sometimes watch him get gang banged. So when I wanted to share the excitement over the line I was about to cross into new terrirory, yielding to a slampig to become one myself, I wasn't prepared for his reply. "Do not ever slam. That's a step too far. Slamming is too dangerous." Paolo arrived at my apartment smelling like sweat. As soon as he walked in, he made a b-line for the sofa, where he emptied his knapsack, revealing a pencil case full of 6 pre-loaded syringes. "Take off your shirt," he commanded as he found a tourniquet, alcohol swab and needle for my first flight. My cell phone was buzzing incessently. "Fuckbuddy trying to reach you," he asked I glanced down. "No. Just Worried ex-boyfriend." I texted Manny. "OK. I won't. Don't worry." as I extended my arm toward Paolo, letting him tie the band around my bicep. I looked away cause needles made me nervous but I felt him swab the area, prick the needle in. Next thing I heard the snap of the rubber being removed from my arm and him guiding my arm up overhead as a wave of intense heat and a cough overtok me. I started writhing and struggling to catch my breath as I saw Paolo hitting his own arm and then sitting his jock ass right on my fevered face. He had told me not to shower when he was on his way and his hole tasted so ripe and musky. I loved it. He then came up to face me and kiss me so he could taste his own hole on my mouth and he confessed how badly he needed to breed me and how hot it was giving me my very first slam. "You love it?" "I fuckin love this. Oh my god give me your uncut raw dick" "I really need to cum inside you" he said "I need that too" And we flip fucked for a couple hours. My phone started ringing. "Who's calling?" "The ex from LA" I said. "Answer and talk to him." "Hello," I answered the phone barely able to catch my breath. Paolo's cock was getting my hole so wet. "Are you okay?" I heard Manny sounding concerned. "Yeah. I'm really really good," I said. "Did you slam?" "No. No. I'm high. But just from smoking. Are you high?" I heard Manny getting fucked. "I was thinking about it," he lied. "Hot" I said as I watched Paolo reach into his bag for another syringe for us both. He looked at me with an evil grin asking if I want another one with his eyes. I nodded. Still on the phone with Manny I watched thi s time as the needle found a big vein in my arm, registered and slowly pushed the drug into my bloodstream. I let my breathing get more labored until I coughed. "Did you slam" he asked and Paolo grabbed my phone hung up for me and then slammed himself into the stratosphere. I took a pic of Paolo's muscular arm with a tourniquet wrapped around his bicep and texted it to Manny before turning off my phone and turning onto the intense heat of the rush of meth pumping directly in our veins.

fuck yeah more pleaze

so fucking hoT

I could've sworn I was in Heaven when I deposited my last load. But actually, I was inside a very open and community-minded college kid who believed that if you're going to invite someone into your hole, you should never hurry them out. I think he told me his name but I may have forgot it.

Years ago when I had some warts removed, the surgeon who had been doing these for 40 years told me post-surgery that there was a possibility that they would return after surgery... BUT... if they did return and he performed the surgery a second time, they would never return again.

Wow! This is really a tremendous piece of writing. And... I lost track of how many loads it's coaxed out of me. I can't stop stroking to this. Thank you.

Thanks for all the kind supportive comments guys. I hope to be able to post in a week or so... things have just been super stressful at work.

CHAPTER THREE: After several months of lying, fighting and sex only when we were high, I arrived for a long weekend in Los Angeles with the idea that if our relationship was going to ever work, we ought to try to enjoy at least one weekend without the drugs. In the car ride from the airport to Manny's apartment, I gingerly brought up the subject. "How would you feel about us not doing any partying this weekend? Just for a change." Manny was driving and he had just turned off the freeway so I wondered if the silence meant he hadn't heard me. "Manny? Did you..." "I heard you. Sure. That sounds fine." There was a long silence as we made our way through the residential neighborhood of Long Beach where he lived. "I just.... I'm curious what this is all about?" "I don't know. I mean. We both love to get high. But I hope we can agree... we love each other more." "Sure." And that one syllable could not have possibly been delivered in a less convincing tone of voice. When we got to his apartment, I noticed his roommate wasn't there. When I asked where Natalie was he said she had some family stuff to take care of in the valley. "So we have the place to ourselves," I offered... making my way toward him with my lips and hands. I was horny. And I wanted to fuck. "I haven't worked out yet today. And you know I hate to cum before hitting the gym. Let's wait until after dinner." "Okay. What do you want to do?" "There must be something good on TV. Why don't you pick something. I need to hit the toilet real quick." Manny disappeared down the hall, shutting the door to the bathroom. When the door was shut I know that meant he was taking a dump. So I found the remote and turned on the TV and started channel surfing. In a minute or two, I heard the door to the bathroom open and the sound of the toilet flushing. "Is this okay?" I called to him, having settled on a rerun of Golden Girls. "Sure," he called to me as I heard him slowly walking toward the livingroom. First I smelled it. Then I saw it. He was surrounded by enormous plumes of white Tina smoke. As he continued to light and suck enormous hits off his pipe. I guess he'd stached it in the bathroom. Seeing him smoking got my dick hard immediately. And as he arrived on the sofa next to me he pulled me in for the biggest shotgun of my life. "Oh fuck" we both said as we yielded to what was clearly already taking root as a serious drug addiction. Even though I'd wanted a sober weekend the moment I took that first hit I heard myself thanking him for not letting me push our Tina off for even a day. "I was wanting this all day," he admitted. "How much did you get," I asked. "Just two 8balls, 4 ecstasy, 3 ounces of G and some Viagra." He handed me the pipe and I started smoking hungrily as he released my cock and sucked the pool of precum from my swollen purple cockhead. He yanked down my jeans and started to go for my ass. "I'm not sure if it's so clean. I just got off a 5 hr. flight." He ignored me and moaned as he rubbed the ripe sweaty scent of my hole all over his face and beard. In no time I was returning the favor burying my face in his ass as he draped himself face down over the wooden coffeetable. He grabbed the remote and switched channels to a techno music station. I quickly brought my dripping cock to his hole and he turned around to face me. "I threw away anything that could be used as lube so do it natural. Spit and precum and nothing else." I popped the head in and dripped a river inside him. He pushed back hard against my dry shaft seeming to enjoy the pain of abrasion tearing at his hole. "Did the boy upstairs fuck you?" I asked. Instead of answering he grabbed his cell from his pocket and sent a text. "I got more stuff. Come on down whenever your Mom goes out." I was pumping into his hole faster and harder and talking real dirty, telling him how badly I wished I was poz so I could infect him. He answered with his quasi-serious warnings that he hoped I would never slam again. That smoking was just fine. And there was no reason to risk a more serious unmanageable addiction by shooting up. I looked down at my right arm and hoped the track marks weren't too obvious. I was so lost in our fuck that I didn't hear the front door open. Had he left it unlocked the whole time? I only knew the teenage kid was there the moment I felt his tongue gently lapping at my hole. I then felt Manny slide up, arching his back to almost sit up, keeping my cock lodged deep so that he could pass the pipe and torch back to our guest. I turned to look at him as he smoked. Jesus. How old was this kid? He didn't look much older than 15 or 16. "How old are you?" I blurted out before realizing the question might be a buzz kill. "Oh. I'm... almost 19," he said and I'm pretty sure I spotted a look pass between them as both their cocks bobbed up. I braced myself for a weekend of wild tweker sex with a cast of characters I would likely not be able to keep in my memory. And the higher we got, the more we both accepted that anonymous and high risk were what we both wanted to chase til I got on my plane home Tuesday morning. Manny wanted me dripping cum into my seat on the flight. And I wanted to imagine them fucking passionately for the whole 5 hours of that flight.

CODA TO CHAPTER TWO: Four hours later I was back in my apartment, lying on top of my bed, more horned up than I'd ever been having taken a couple loads and having been slammed for the first time. Even though it was 4 AM in Los Angeles, I let my tweaked brain convince me to text Manny. "Hey. Sorry about earlier. My phone died. Call me when you see this." In two seconds my phone was ringing. "Hey" he said. He sounded like a high person trying to sound sleepy. "How are you? You're up early." "Oh. Yeah. Well..." I was afraid to admit what I'd done. Cause he had been so adamant about us only partying together and never partying apart. I let the silence hang between us. We both seemed to be listening to each other's breathing looking for clues. I started touching myself as I slowly reached over to the nightstand to quietly grab my pipe and torch. My cock got hard. "I wonder whether either one of us has slept," I said. I heard him moan. And the faint sound of porn in the background. "The thing is, Manny. I know you had a really strong argument for us not partying on our own..." "I did." he said, a little breathless. "But I have to admit to you.... Sometimes I just. I mean, don't you ever feel like you just have to load the pipe and smoke a little?" And with that I lit the torch and did the quietest big hit I could. He probably would not have heard any evidence of it had he not asked me a question which I chose to answer as I was exhaling the huge white plume of meth smoke. "Yeah. As a matter of fact, I am right now." And then I brought the torch closer to let him hear it all as I heard him moaning "Oh fuck" followed by his own torch and smoking. Then without either one of us taking our hands off our engorged pricks, he made his heartfelt confession. But it was both a confession and a huge pornographic trigger for us both. And he knew it would be. "I feel terrible telling you this. But I got high alone yesterday and I fucked the teenage kid who lives above us." I was dripping like a faucet now. "Had he ever done drugs before?" "NO. His mother's a recovering heroin addict and his father is an alcoholic so he's always stayed away from drugs. But he asked me about it after seeing me carrying a water bong into the apartment and as soon as I saw his Mom leave for the night shift at the hospital I was up there like a sick [banned word] that I am, getting hard thinking of of how I was going to bring hi over to the dark side." "Donn't beat yourself up. You couldn't help it. You were high." There was a long pause. "Are you high now? Yeah. But not enouh. And we both smoked deep as he stroked his cock and I stroked mine. Before he hung up I could swear I heard the words "Fill me with your poz cum" from the porn he was watching but I decided not to ask him about it. When I hung up, I got back on Grindr and within 15 min. was letting in some guy I wasn't all that attracted to but who promised to get me higher than I'd ever been.

CHAPTER THREE: After several months of lying, fighting and sex only when we were high, I arrived for a long weekend in Los Angeles with the idea that if our relationship was going to ever work, we ought to try to enjoy at least one weekend without the drugs. In the car ride from the airport to Manny's apartment, I gingerly brought up the subject. "How would you feel about us not doing any partying this weekend? Just for a change." Manny was driving and he had just turned off the freeway so I wondered if the silence meant he hadn't heard me. "Manny? Did you..." "I heard you. Sure. That sounds fine." There was a long silence as we made our way through the residential neighborhood of Long Beach where he lived. "I just.... I'm curious what this is all about?" "I don't know. I mean. We both love to get high. But I hope we can agree... we love each other more." "Sure." And that one syllable could not have possibly been delivered in a less convincing tone of voice. When we got to his apartment, I noticed his roommate wasn't there. When I asked where Natalie was he said she had some family stuff to take care of in the valley. "So we have the place to ourselves," I offered... making my way toward him with my lips and hands. I was horny. And I wanted to fuck. "I haven't worked out yet today. And you know I hate to cum before hitting the gym. Let's wait until after dinner." "Okay. What do you want to do?" "There must be something good on TV. Why don't you pick something. I need to hit the toilet real quick." Manny disappeared down the hall, shutting the door to the bathroom. When the door was shut I know that meant he was taking a dump. So I found the remote and turned on the TV and started channel surfing. In a minute or two, I heard the door to the bathroom open and the sound of the toilet flushing. "Is this okay?" I called to him, having settled on a rerun of Golden Girls. "Sure," he called to me as I heard him slowly walking toward the livingroom. First I smelled it. Then I saw it. He was surrounded by enormous plumes of white Tina smoke. As he continued to light and suck enormous hits off his pipe. I guess he'd stached it in the bathroom. Seeing him smoking got my dick hard immediately. And as he arrived on the sofa next to me he pulled me in for the biggest shotgun of my life. "Oh fuck" we both said as we yielded to what was clearly already taking root as a serious drug addiction. Even though I'd wanted a sober weekend the moment I took that first hit I heard myself thanking him for not letting me push our Tina off for even a day. "I was wanting this all day," he admitted. "How much did you get," I asked. "Just two 8balls, 4 ecstasy, 3 ounces of G and some Viagra." He handed me the pipe and I started smoking hungrily as he released my cock and sucked the pool of precum from my swollen purple cockhead. He yanked down my jeans and started to go for my ass. "I'm not sure if it's so clean. I just got off a 5 hr. flight." He ignored me and moaned as he rubbed the ripe sweaty scent of my hole all over his face and beard. In no time I was returning the favor burying my face in his ass as he draped himself face down over the wooden coffeetable. He grabbed the remote and switched channels to a techno music station. I quickly brought my dripping cock to his hole and he turned around to face me. "I threw away anything that could be used as lube so do it natural. Spit and precum and nothing else." I popped the head in and dripped a river inside him. He pushed back hard against my dry shaft seeming to enjoy the pain of abrasion tearing at his hole. "Did the boy upstairs fuck you?" I asked. Instead of answering he grabbed his cell from his pocket and sent a text. "I got more stuff. Come on down whenever your Mom goes out." I was pumping into his hole faster and harder and talking real dirty, telling him how badly I wished I was poz so I could infect him. He answered with his quasi-serious warnings that he hoped I would never slam again. That smoking was just fine. And there was no reason to risk a more serious unmanageable addiction by shooting up. I looked down at my right arm and hoped the track marks weren't too obvious. I was so lost in our fuck that I didn't hear the front door open. Had he left it unlocked the whole time? I only knew the teenage kid was there the moment I felt his tongue gently lapping at my hole. I then felt Manny slide up, arching his back to almost sit up, keeping my cock lodged deep so that he could pass the pipe and torch back to our guest. I turned to look at him as he smoked. Jesus. How old was this kid? He didn't look much older than 15 or 16. "How old are you?" I blurted out before realizing the question might be a buzz kill. "Oh. I'm... almost 19," he said and I'm pretty sure I spotted a look pass between them as both their cocks bobbed up. I braced myself for a weekend of wild tweker sex with a cast of characters I would likely not be able to keep in my memory. And the higher we got, the more we both accepted that anonymous and high risk were what we both wanted to chase til I got on my plane home Tuesday morning. Manny wanted me dripping cum into my seat on the flight. And I wanted to imagine them fucking passionately for the whole 5 hours of that flight.