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I'm a Cincinnati area biMWM (east of town in Clermont County). I love drinking from the hose. I also love arcade glory holes, but there are none in the area. I'm looking for horny cocks that want to wash down my tonsils and finish with a shuddering orgasm. My mouth exists to take your piss and cum.
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Eric was a 20 year old college student. He was dating the local preacher’s daughter Sally. The preacher didn’t like Eric. With good reason. Eric had been in trouble with the law. But got his life together. But what he didn’t like about Eric is that he caught Eric and Sally in bed. He deflowered his little girl at least in his own mind. So Eric needed to be punished. He put a plan into action. The preacher reached out to Bob a 58 year old gay man who had sexual fantasies about Eric. One of them being hung on a cross. Then lowered it down. Then Bob could live out his fantasy of fucking the young man. The preacher got Eric to an isolated era. Slipping a sleeping pill into his water when Eric wasn’t looking. Once Eric was out. The preacher got Eric to the makeshift cross. Bob undressed Eric then tied his hands to the cross. With his legs left to hang loose. The young man woke up . Realizing he was trapped he pleaded with the preacher to let him go. “You took my daughter’s purity and innocence away from her.” The preacher said to Eric. “Since you like penis’s in butts.” “Bob here is going to put his into yours.” Bob then comes out naked. Bob was 58 gray hair with a belly. Both men carefully lower the cross. Eric tries to free himself. But due to the sleeping pill and the roofie that Bob put into the young man’s water. Eric was figurely and literally fucked. “I’ll leave you two alone.” The preacher said. Bob with a look in his eyes was finally going to have his fantasy turned into a reality. Bob was playing with Eric’s hole and dick. Even rubbing his hands on the young man’s tone body. Bob then lifted Eric’s legs over his shoulders. Slowly putting his dick into Eric’s ass. “Please don’t” Eric pleaded. By shutting him up. Bob forces a long kiss on Eric. His dick now inside Eric. He took his time. For Eric this felt like an eternity. But it was a little over an hour of fucking Eric. Bob felt himself starting to cum. “Ahhhh” Bob shouted his dick pulsing loads deep inside of Eric. Bob unties Eric’s hands. Eric tries to push Bob off of him. But his hand’s fall on the back of Bob’s shoulders. Bob and The preacher knew they couldn’t let him go. So Eric would disappear. Bob had a cabin in the woods. Nobody would dare look for him. Eric became Bob’s sex slave. Once in awhile Bob would have friends over to fuck the young man. He was now a cum dump
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My husband is very demanding when it comes to sex between us. He only wants to jerk off together. Have sex together. And he’s very vanilla. I need sex more often and with others. I get bored with one partner. I love him but the control is too much. So today I made up a story to get away from my husband after work today. Met up with a bud off of grinder and stopped by his place. Had an hour or so since I canceled a meeting with a client even though my husband thought everything was on schedule. Met the guy, walked in and we made out. As soon as we got our clothes off we started sniffing the poppers and blowing each other. Could barely keep our hands off each other. We made out and played with each other like animals before he finally slid his raw cock into me. He fucked me doggy at first then reverse cowgirl. I flipped around and fucked him for a bit doggy and he rode my dick. Finally he went back to fucking me doggy and got close and bred me. I could feel as he pumped about 10 shots into my hole. After he came, he started licking my nipples to help me cum, one of my biggest turn ons. I shot my load all over both of us. We got dressed and I called my husband on the way to the store, keeping my buddy’s load in me the whole time. When I got home, I kissed my husband with dick breath and I let my husband breed me. He wondered why I was so wet, but I went to the bathroom before we fucked and told him I lubed myself up for him. My husband is very vanilla and likes to “make love,” so it’s so hot knowing I have someone else’s seed in me as his raw dick is inside me. He has no clue what I’ve been up to while he’s working. He goes away for a few days at the end of the week. I’m gonna see how many loads I can take while he’s gone.
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Kyle was an 18 year old high school senior. Excelled at sports. Aced most of his classes. Except one. That was his history class. His teacher Mr. Caine secretly lusted after Kyle. Caine was a tall hairy guy. He was also a well respected teacher. With Kyle on the verge of flunking, Kyle talked to his parents and girlfriend who convinced him to talk to Caine about making up some assignments. Since he had sometime before graduation. “Kyle. I’m not sure if there’s enough time for you to make up the class.” “Please Mr. Caine.” “I’ll do anything you say.” “Anything?” Caine raised his eyebrow. “Yessir”. “I need to pass so I can graduate.” Caine got up walked over to Kyle unzipped his pants and pulled them down. “Suck my hard cock Kyle.” “Sir, I’m not gay.” “You’re not going to pass my class either.” “If you don’t do as I say.” Kyle knew he had no choice. He took in Caine’s big thick cock and started sucking him. Caine got undressed and ordered Kyle to get undressed. Both completely naked. Caine positioned the young man on a chair leaning him against the wall. Caine slowly slid his dick into the young man’s virgin tight hole. Kyle screamed with an unlubed dick went in. Caine didn’t care. He was rough fucking the young man. For Kyle what felt like hours was almost over. Caine felt his dick pulsate in Kyle’s ass. Shooting several loads into him. Caine grunted. Pulled out. Kyle fell to the floor. Caine got dressed. Smiled at him. “You passed my class.” Then walked out. Before Kyle could pull himself together. The overweight 53 year old custodian came in. Saw a naked Kyle with loads coming out of his ass. Decided to fuck him too. Before Kyle could do anything the old man was inside of him shooting off his loads……unfortunately for Kyle the custodian threatened to tell his girlfriend. Unless he continues to have sex with him and a few of his friends.
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I woke up to the warm, sticky sensation of his cum slowly leaking out of my asshole. The tang of it reminded me of the sweet, earthy flavor of freshly turned soil after spring rain. My body was sore and achy in the best possible way as if I had just gone for a run in the nude through a field of wildflowers. I smiled to myself, savoring the memories of the night before. It all started when I was out at the bar with some friends. I had been eyeing him across the room for a while, admiring his tall, broad frame and the way he moved. He was wearing a tight white T-shirt that hugged his muscular chest and showed off his defined abs, and a pair of worn-in jeans that fit his long, muscular legs like a glove. Something about him exuded an air of confidence and dominance that made me feel weak in the knees. As the night wore on, I summoned the courage to approach him. We struck up a conversation, and it turned out we had a lot in common. He told me he was an artist, and I was instantly drawn to his passion and creativity. Before I knew it, we were leaving the bar together, him leading me by the hand through the bustling streets. He lived in a modest, but cozy apartment just a few blocks away, and as we walked inside, I couldn't help but notice the way his dong swayed gently beneath his jeans. It was long and thick, and I found myself growing increasingly aroused by the sight of it. He offered me a drink, and we sat down on his comfortable, worn-in couch. As we talked, my eyes drifted down to his lap, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. I couldn't take my eyes off of his dick, and before long, my pants had grown uncomfortably tight. It was then that he must have sensed my desire because he leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Do you want to see something special?" I nodded eagerly, my heart racing with anticipation
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Closet bi, New hampshire USA here. I used to meet up outside with an older guy in my neighborhood at night and he would piss on me and jack off on my face. I've really wanted to do this kind of thing again ever since but never came close. Anyone know any good spots? Experiences like this?
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Name: pigletPDX Cell number (for texts and voice calls): 971 344 6150 Location: near Glisan exit from I-205 (NE94th/NE Glisan) Times you're available: most days after noon, eves, Times you're generally not available: mornings Age: 50 Height: 5'10" Weight: 175 lbs. Ethnicity: Caucasian Amenities: sling, shower
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My first attempt of writing story so i d be glad to get some tips and suggestions. Part 1: Anonymous straight boy It s 2 am and Vincent is horny. He could not sleep, so he did what he have always done, logging in the local hook up website for some late night bootycall. Vincent is a gay guy in his 20s, asian background with a fit body that he honed regularly at the gym. He has been fucking since he was 16. He was attractive, 1.75m and have an average dick. He usually meet guys on grindr, but occasionally he would go on to local hookup site to find those "straight" boys. It s a habit he got from college, helping many classmates "discover" themselves. He has always been a top and he likes the feeling of convincing the so call "straight" boys to let him slide his dick into their virgin hole. He is not big so it was easy to tell them it won't hurt much. And man those boys were easy to turn. When he got out of college, it was harder to find other curious boys so he turned to the anonymous hookup sites, and he was lucky a few times. These sites mostly have those daddies looking for boys or cumdump sluts begging to be fucked, but on the rare occasion a curious guy would pop in looking to experience some man on man sex. Tonight Vincent is lucky again. He gets a message from blondjock95. blondjock95: "Hey man, wanna try a dick. You are down?" vinceprince: "You wanna get banged? Travel?" blondjock95:"Yeah. Just wanna get fucked. CONDOM ONLY. No kissing and i wont touch your dick otherwise." vinceprince: Bingo. "Fine by me. Send ur pic and I ll send the address." Vince opened the attached pic to see a lean swimmer body, he hope the dude looks good too and not a catfish because he really needs to blow his load tonight. 20 minutes later, he got a text from blondjock95, whose name was Derek, saying he arrived. Vincent open the door and is pleased. The guy was handsome, blond hair with gray eyes and killer smile. They got into the room quickly and Vince got down to business. He stripped them both naked and went down on his knee to give Derek a blowjob. He heard a soft moan as his lips wrapped around the rock hard 20 cm cock. He could taste the salty precum leaking out and the musky smell of Derek's balls. Derek is very well shaven, in contrast to Vincent's thick bush. After a few minutes of sucking, Derek is leaking like a fountain. Vincent looks up, smiles and licks his lips. Derek responds with a weak and shy smile. Vincent turns him around and goes for his as, munching on the virgin hole like a ripe peach. Derek is moaning loudly as Vincent drove his tongue in deep. "Lovely virgin hole. Gonna make you cry tonight and addicted to cock tonight baby"-Vincent thinks to himself. He got up and faces Derek. He places his hands on his shoulders and gestures for Derek to move to the bed. When he gets to the bed, Derek suddenly stops and says: "Hey, is it ok if we try something?" "What is it, stud?" Vincent gave a friendly smile, and was caught by surprised when Derek leans in for a kiss. Derek pulls back after a few seconds, unsure what to do. Vincent still has the surprised look on his face, but then goes in for another kiss. Derek is by far the best kisser Vincent has. but something about the clumsy peck and innocent kiss turn him on. The boys keeps making out as they fall onto the bed. After a while, Vincent breaks the kiss: "Let s get you nice and wet back there." Vincent made Derek sat on his face and drove his tongue deep into Derek hole one more time before he seals the deal. He savours the musky cherry ass when suddenly he felt hot breath near his cock. After a moment, he felt Derek's mouth wrapped around his cock. "Lol, easier than I thought. Not so straight afterall."-Vincent thought. The blowjob is just as mediorce as Derek kissing skill. He does not know how to deepthroat and could not handle half the shaft despite Vincent 12 cm. But again Vincent was hit by another surprise. He felt his cum bubbling up his shaft. "What the hell...?"-he thought. So many guys that were way better cocksuckers than Derek had served him and they needed at least half an hour to even get Vincent close. What is wrong with him tonight? "Hey, that s enough. Let s give you what you came here for." Vincent said as he rolls Derek over and climbs between his legs. He got the condom on and lubed up Derek. He sank into the virgin hole as the blond jock gasp for breath, feeling his cherry getting popped. Vincent size let him easily pass through the sphincter and reached Derek's prostate. "Let's get the party started."-he thought. Then Derek pulled him down for another clumsy kiss, and suddenly his cum is about to spill again. Derek panickingly pulled out and rolled over. "What's wrong?" Derek sounds concerning. "It's... I don't know. I m sorry but I m close. Maybe cuz i havent cummed for the whole day." Derek tried to hold in his cum. "Damn. I wanna try tonight..." Derek sounds dissappointing and Vincent's heart sinks. He is not sure from what but he does not like the feeling. The shame of not be able to perform? The guilt of getting this boy all the way here to let him down? "Well. I came all the way here. Can I fuck you then?" Derek asks "Like hell you would, virgin."-Vincent thinks and is about to say when he catches the puppy eyes. The words did not escape his mouth. Mix of guilt and shame flushes back in and he blurted out: "Ok." And so Derek lubed up Vincent the way he did him before. Vincent was still dumbfounded of what he agreed to and just lie there. Derek gets into missionary and line his dick in front of Vincent's hole. He looks him in the eyes with the innocent look again. Derek has a cold feet. He has not been fucked for years and might as well be a virgin. He only fucks, he does not want to get fucked. He opened his mouth to protest when the tip of Derek's cock pushes in. A deep grunt followed by a high pitch moan escapes Derek. He feels like his breath is knocked out as the cock invaded him. "Fuck, this is why I don't bottom."-Vincent thinks. He feels taken, by a virgin he s suppose to be fucking no less. Like the virgin he is, Derek does not let Vincent adjust and begins to pound away and Vincent could not voice his protest. His breath keeps getting knocked out by each thrust and he could not do anything but lie there and takes the pounding, sobbing while his hole getting stretched. Then Derek leaned in for the kiss and the pain slightly subsided. And so Vincent clings to it. He is like a thirsty man in the desert who s finally given some water and does not want to let go. His hole is on fire and Derek's clumsy kiss is the only thing making it better. It goes on for ten minutes, and Derek just goes harder. Vincent's hole finally get used to it and his prostate was being pounded hard. He is in so much pain and ecstasy that he is in tear and sobbing. And it finally arrives. His cumshot is massive. It sprays all over him and even hit Derek in his chest and face. Vincent just cries in orgasm at this point, involuntarily squeezing his hole, making Derek pump a big load inside. Derek caught his breath after a minute and pulled out. In his exhausted state, Vincent could see it. That look that he had seen so many times from all the "straight's boys" that he popped their cherry. Derek was flooded with shame of what he just did. He pulled out the condom and quickly dressed up. He immediately left Vincent lying there covered in cum with a mere "Thanks, goodbye man." Vincent tried to process. His touched his hole and it was slightly gape and sore. His body is drenched in sweat and cum. He got some on his face too. It mixes with his tears that he shed when he was fucked. Tear of joy? "Fuck, I cried cuz I was fucked." He spoke out loud. He rubbed his eyes carefully to not get the cum in. He needs a shower. A hot shower. To be continued
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My first of post....hmmmm, wonder how long this will actually last. Heh I guess I should introduce myself. I'm not gonna give my real name here but my puppy name is Aspen. Im from Ontario Canada, where I basically have live my entire life. I'm in the restaurant biz and have been for 24ish years and I....blame...attribute...reason...lol to my utter lack of filter or subtly and very matter of fact personality. It isn't an industry that really (especially in the time when I started) sheltered or babied a young person. You learned to be quick, you learned to be witty, you learned to have a very thick skin or you weren't going to make it. As well you learned that behind the prestine hostess stand or emaculate dinner wear that the world was dirty, the world was at times uncaring and the world wasn't black and white. You did what you need to do to survive. Mostly I learned that ppl were just fucked up and just how fucked up I actually was. For better or worse.... On the contrary I was brought up in a loving family and was not hampered by over baring parents, they were/are great! They trusted me to do what was right and guided me as best they could. My dad being a reservist in the CND army for 25vyears as a piper exposed me to that world and I love it, if I wasn't a chef I'd be out in the field somewhere for sure and often times wish I had made that choice. Along with being bestowed the ground work for military disapline I also got very involved in martial arts training when I was 14 and dove head first into that starting out in a goju karate school that also brought in aikido ju jitsu, taichi and weapons training. Id have training 7days a week but the dojo was closed in Sundays hehe. And well I got banned from lunch classes when sensei figures out that I was skipping highschool to come train. 😉 I don't officially train anymore but always learn and adapt things from all over the fighting world as I learn of them. I am in no way a professional fighter! Ha maybe one post I'll talk about the one 2 real fights I've ever been in. I've always been a philosopher and interested in the way ppl think, work, act and the reasons why. Heh I know none of that is what anyone is really here to read but I figure Ill give a slight ground work to myself before getting to the good stuff.
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No Tennessee hookup page so I’m hoping they are okay with a temporary one. Post on this thread for hookups. I’m the the area around Clarksville TN, and I’m looking for all of the listed tags. Anything will do, message me for more. Hope this thread helps people in my state.
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new video on my page [think before following links] https://www.clips4sale.com/studio/50619/my-slave-chair
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So I 44m he is a 20yo South American boy who I have dating for about a month now after chatting online for a year. Over the past year he has told me how he loves seeing my slam videos online and how sexy I was. I asked him a few times if he partied like that , his response was a stern “NO” but he didn’t mind that I did. In my head I thought to myself “. If I can get him to hang just one night , I will get him slamming and loving it . So finally after a year of begging to go on a date he finally messaged me and asked me on a date. We made plans for that Friday for me to come to his place and we order in and watch a movie and just chill. Friday finally came and as I was packing a bag a of course packed all my pointing supplies , hehe, in hopes I would get to convert him . When I got to his place I was so nervous I could barely even speak especially since he came to the door wearing just a jockstrap. I was in awww as a gazed over his young furry (in all the right places ) muscular frat type body and huge package . His reply was “I knew you had a jockstrap fetish so I wore this for you “. He then made me strip down to my jockstrap then brought me in to his living room, while he went to the kitchen to grab drinks . I sat on the couch waiting for him to come back with our drinks. He sits next to me and we immediately start talking about Tina , mainly him asking tons of questions and me answering til about the 10th one and was like “how about I just show you “. He got really shy and quick change the topic “so tell me about your ex’s” he said , I told him how my past bf’s we were in open relationships, we loved having our cake and eating it to . (Him being so young ,20 , of course didn’t understand that saying). So I just continued explaining my history. I especially loved hearing about their hookups , turned me on knowing they were out slamming with other guys and getting fucked by the entire city . My friends would text me pics of my bf getting fucked by them or getting fucked at the party they were both at . He stated he has never been in an open relationship, but it sounds fun and is very interested. Earlier in the evening I asked him if he wanted to slam , he says to me , he definitely wants to try tina just not tonight as he is fumbling with his jockstrap,trying to hide a massive boner . (The kid is 5”10 170lbs with a 10x8 massive uncut cock ). Ha by the looks of it something wants it now. He tells me that on Saturday mornings he takes care of his 80yo uncle , his uncle counts on him so much . I was like well that’s just an amazing act of goodness(definitely scored some points there ), It was getting late so I decided to call it night just go home then and try another time. But then as we were hugging he made the first move by sucking on my neck and before u knew I had him bent over the back of the sofa and was eating his hot 24yo hairy ass and him begging for my Cock. We fucked for a couple hours til we both shot our loads all over each other just as his roomate was coming in the front door. Which was fucking so hot! We ended up falling asleep naked on his deep oversized couch. I wake next morning to his roomate on the other end of the couch jerking his 20 something huge cock , (kids these days all have monster dicks). So of course I crawl over between his legs and just start deep throating the fuck out of this kids Dick , He cums in a matter of seconds , shoots ropes upon ropes of cum down my throat , so much that I couldn’t even swallow anymore , and as I pull away from his cock it’s still shooting all over the couch between his legs and i swear it kept using cum for 15 min . It was the hottest thing ever . He says “you should see this cum shot when he fucks my boys ass”. He finally wakes up an hour later , and the three of us fucked before I had to leave for work at 11. As I was leaving I told the boy that I get off at 7 so let’s hangout again. He said of course but had a shitty grin on his face as I walked away. I didn’t think much of him since he said he was going to help be helping his uncle til around 5pm when I hadn’t heard from him all afternoon even after texting him a couple times. 7pm rolls around and I am heading home , I decide to call him to see if we are still on for tonight, he answers but his voice sounds really different, now it’s a change of voice pitch that I am very familiar with since I am a slammer and I could here porn playing in the background. I was like hey what’s going on where are u ? He replied “I did it babe , Please don’t be mad “ Did what I replied “I slammed babe , “. I was instantly rock hard and told him “ fuck no I am not mad, it’s fuckn hot babe , and so hot that ur fucking honest “. He tells me that he was so turned on by our conversation last night that he met up with a 78yo muscle daddy that begged him to let him slam him for the first time. My boy told the man that he has a Bf ( which I thought was so fuckn hot ). And that the guy didn’t care and told my boy that I could join later . My boy knowing that it turns me on hearing my bf hooking up he ran with it. When I called they were getting ready to slam for third time , i asked for them to wait and the old man said no but he can watch via FaceTime . So I immediately FaceTime call my boy , only to see him naked hard as a rock in a sling and twacked the fuck out and here comes this hot old guy with a huge thick cock and syringe with a hefty amount of fluid in it. When I asked the size , the daddy replies .8 . I was like fuckkkkkk that’s so hot. I watched him stick the needle in my boys arm and then just rams the plunger down pushing all that meth it into my boys body.. My boy jolts up starts coughing and talking tweaker talk as his blasts off to another dimension, he’s coughing he’s thrashing around telling the daddy to fuck him , fist him , use him repeatedly over and over again and telling me to get over there now so I can fuck him up more. I got home ,stripped out of my clothes , and was sitting naked on the couch watching this video old man use and abuse my boy when my roommate walks out of his room into mine with needles in hand, hands me one and we slam up. I show him my boy in action, he says let go fuck him up with that guy . It was so hot hearing my friend wanting to do that with my bf . So we got dressed and went over to the guys house. A different guy answered the door and let us in , he was naked and rock hard and sweating profusely, he guided us back to the man cave where I met the old man and find my boy in a sling with three daddies around him. I went over and kissed him as well as praising him for doing this today . He smiled at me and begged me to slam him , I turned around and the old man had the slams already for me. They again were .8 and it was less than two hours since he last was slammed, I was hesitant at first til the old man ordered me to slam my boy again . So I did , and watched him go into total whore pig ecstasy. I fuckn loved it , watching him get plowed while I laid on the bed so the old man could slam me up and have his way me. Omg that .8 was amazing. We fucked and slammed two more times til morning everyone had left and the old man was past out on the couch . So we laid there in the old man’s bed tweaking out like crazy , he still rock hard with cum oozing out of his hole. I kept eating from my fingers . He kept telling me how this was the best night of his life and can’t wait to do it again. I was like fuck yeah we definitely will my little Chem whore. Stay horned for part 2
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so will be cool to anyone for post to what their last load was ...that will be so hot! if u need some help to unload,here you go 😉 [think before following links] https://es.xhamster.com/users/sexyylegsss
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Been caged for the past month and been crazy horny to be used and abused. Need my hole pounded and bred or more. Pretty open minded [banned word] here
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I’ve seen this topic a few times and thought I’d add mine up and see how i compare to other bottoms. June was a really good month for me sexually. I did some travel for work and had a lot of free time to indulge in my sexual activities. I participated in 4 groups, 1 of which I was lucky to be the only Bottom. I do try to keep a record of every guy, I have a Fuck Diary I write in every night. Adding up each hookup and the group guys that I remember actually fucking and cumming. Not counting Blowjobs, I suck off so many guys I can’t keep track of how many. I was at 43 Loads for the month of June. Not a record, but I didn’t go a single day without satisfying at least one man. I’m going to keep track every month just to see how big a slut I really am. So far July is going well at 8 loads.
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by Steve Berman Sberman8@yahoo.com Let's start with the truth: I was following him. There, now I can set the tone. Not that I usually stalked people, but he was different. Struck me hard and fast, like an accident, only the feeling was welcome. So I waited outside the shop, peering into the windows as if browsing from the street. I was more than a little surprised that he was making a purchase. Not the sort of person to frequent a gallery, especially not the sort of gallery that this was. Were weird masks crafted from tooled leather and animal bones along with crepe and burlap wings his taste? That thought almost made me walk away and leave the stare of that something--once a raccoon or perhaps a possum--perched atop a calfskin helm in the display that was accusing me through empty sockets. Yet I was held fast, watching as he purchased a mask, a wide piece with fluted edges and scrollwork around the lips. When he left the store, not even pausing to offer me a glance, I stood by, breathing in his smell. One more inhale and a minute's passing happened before I followed him. I was not aiming for capture, but merely the thrill of the hunt. I could let my eyes follow the length of his young frame, supposedly with little risk. He led me to Jackson Square; on this weekend, it was full of both tourists and regulars, the artists displaying their paintings and caricatures along the wrought iron fence binding the park. In my two years of living in the Crescent City, I had never seen anyone walk that park. A snack at L'Madeline's seemed his goal. I sat down outside on a metal bench and waited. Resting and inert, I felt little like a predator. Embarrassment for acting in such outlandish fashion crept over me. I had kept my secret too well, preventing any overt betrayals even if I wanted them to be shown. So if I ever was attracted to another guy, desire was kept locked away tight behind my eyes. But this one made me act, even to this little degree, for approaching him was still out of the question. I had caught him on a side street to Royal, standing there watching with a host of others at a one-man band playing in the middle of the street. How could you not be taken by him? With his slim physique and wild black hair that so contrasted with his pale skin. A night dweller that had crept out for some reason to take a glimpse of the sun and its crowd. His clothing was worn, jeans almost tattered to shreds. He was definitely not one of the university crowd I normally hung out with, and did not have the brashness of a local. What he did have was quiet and furtive eyes that I thought would never find me. "Dance," I whispered, "you were surely meant to dance," but only his foot moved in time with the music. He left the cafe to walk down the alleys that led back to Bourbon Street, an infamous thoroughfare of the Quarter, which was truthfully a disappointment during the day. Those walkways had the rare person traveling besides us, but still I followed, my mind often urging me to turn away, but never quite vehement enough for the rest of me to listen. Yet, I wondered why he did not turn around and confront me, as my footfalls were neither quiet nor calm. Perhaps he simply chose to ignore my existence. The thought did not have much appeal to me, but I was saved when he left the known parts of Bourbon. He passed the Line. All newcomers to the Quarter hear of the Line if they spend any time downtown. Eventually the tourist trappings fall aside, the restaurants fade back, and you are only left with gloomy looking buildings. Most are bars of some ill repute squatting down, ready to gorge themselves on sodden customers. I had learned from the classmates I occasionally socialized with that beyond the almost visible line were places a normal guy, a straight decent fellow, just shouldn't go. Gay bars, rough spots, leather dens, areas where your ass either got shoveled or kicked in. And though the warnings were tabu entreaties, I had never before had the courage, or that much inclination, to cross. I watched him go with a sigh of regret. He never looked back, and neither did I. The walk back to the streetcar stop seemed so bland in comparison. Somewhere, I heard that New Orleans has two different patron gods, each presiding over not different parts of the city but rather the times. During the day, it is the sly Mercantile, the one who stands grinning behind the counter. He may be met as a sophisticate selling artwork or antiques, or be the street dealer with lewd T-shirts and garish Mardi Gras posters. But he will try to sell you something, anything, ‘name your price littl' lady.’ But at night, well, New Orleans becomes the domain of the Truck Driver, an avatar cruel and crude, laughing while he spills his beer on your sleeve, promising to show you sights never seen before, but all guaranteed to arouse. His language is blunt and to the point. The Mercantile wants your business, thrives on it; the Truck Driver couldn't care less, because he knows you have come to watch and don't feel like going home early. Or hungry. And since I like to think of myself somewhat sophisticated if not downright neurotic, I often avoided offering myself to the Truck Driver. At night most of the French Quarter is alive and crawling down Canal and Bourbon streets, with the other streets asleep except for the rare insomniac. Normally I am of little mood for crowds of drunken folk, seeking only to lose myself in a book back at the dorm. But one night late this past semester I sought refuge in their madness; for three weeks, I had been barraged with papers and tests, and the notion of just once losing my identity seemed like the perfect medicine. Come morning, should I regret something, well, that was a New Orleans tradition, too. I had come down on the streetcar with friends, letting them act as faulty guides and chaperons. With my hurricane clutched firm, and my college sweatshirt on as a warning label to the locals, I was ready to drink in deep that night. All was fine, even the two hours spent in the strip joint. I enjoyed the rank smell of sweat and smoke more than the dancers, who seemed all too eager to leave the stage; their social security checks must have been waiting for them in the back. But I was a consummate actor, in part thanks to the no-cover-charge-but-necessary-three-drink-minimum rule, and my friends never saw my disinterest in flouncing breasts. Outside the club, I took a moment to clear my head of vapors. The brick walls here are great for this purpose; one can lean against them and feel the world coming back into focus. Perhaps I should suggest that a bit of powdered brick added to chicory coffee might serve as a hangover remedy. My renewed perception let me spot him down the street. The clothing was so similar to what he wore the night I first saw him, that I wondered if I wasn't having some weird Dixie-beer induced flashback. But no, it was through the passing mob that my eyes were teased with him standing in front of a trader's shop, one arm casually draped around one of the cast-iron horse heads, relics from when busy folk had to tie up their steeds. I rapped my head against the wall ever so slightly, letting my friends chuckle at the display. I was trapped. To simply leave them would invite questions, none of which I could readily answer. But the desire to go to him was strong, making me think recklessly. My mind on a rampage, I muttered something up getting a refill and wandered into the crowd. I prayed they would not follow as I waded past the doomsayers, smelling rank like bad bologna stuck between their sandwich board signs. When I could no longer see my pals and my last link to school and sanity was gone, I headed directly towards him. This time his eyes were on me, casually, as I approached. I nearly lost my nerve, but to have come so close and then break away was too disheartening to contemplate. So, we met besides the black horse head with its bit of rust peeking through the bad paint job. Never having been so close to him, I was a bit surprised at his age; I would have guessed him a couple of years younger than me, but his confident pose had not a drop of inexperience. And since I did not yet have the strength to stare him straight in that delicately featured face, I found myself watching his long fingers that were idly stroking the post's huge nostrils. "Whew, its good to get out of that crowd. Felt like I was going to be swept along the street." My voice had a nervous edge to it, making me cringe slightly as I finished. He shrugged. "Nights here are like that." He had a soft voice, barely above a whisper. "Surprised to see you here, thought you were more of a day walker." The remark was received and noted; so he had known I was following him that day. "Yeah, but something brought me out tonight. You seem to blend-in here." I added. "That's not a compliment." And he flashed me a grin. "Are you waiting for anyone?" Hope was at my fingers, ready to fly off to the river if he should answer yes, that he was waiting for someone else, someone better looking, perhaps taller or bigger, without an East Coast accent that betrays seduction. "Sort of, but seeing as you're here, guess I might not have to." I was confused, but merely nodded, feeling it the right thing to do. "Umm, you want to go somewhere and get a drink and talk?" "Sure, I know a place." I followed him as we made our way along the sidewalk, avoiding the packed street to make faster time. I was so nervous that one of my school chums would catch sight of me that I kept my eyes trained on his backside, which was not altogether a bad sight. Before I knew it, the crowd had thinned out to mere stragglers. We had reached the damned Line, again. He crossed it with ease, then turned back to see my passage. Again it was too late to turn back. I wished that a shock of sorts had traveled up and down my spine as I crossed into strange territory, but it felt all too slick and painless. Seeing me step over, he again flashed me that grin that was oh-so-promising. Farther down the street, we reached a small doorway. Beyond it, the room was dark with dim splotches of light from weak bulbs hanging in the rafters. Small tables and chairs were placed haphazardly about, each covered with what look like remnants of cloth. Several people sat close together on the floor, amid pillows and covers. The bar was low, with too many bartenders milling about, fighting over the odd customer who wanted something to drink. A dim chord of music hung in the air, supplied by an unseen guitar. It was mournfully apparent that conversation, offers and promises, perhaps even deals of flesh were the draw. What was the minimum here, I had to wonder. We sat at one of the few empty tables. It was odd how such a quiet place could be so crowded; amid all the whispering, mouths barely seemed to move. I was disappointed that all sorts of couples sat down with their drinks; I had expected, had even hoped for, something more blatantly gay as a site for my initiation. The drinks were set before us; there was no choosing apparently. I took a sip from the wet glass and found it bitter but strong. My companion seemed as relaxed as ever, just content to stare at me it seemed, yet ,as I was to learn, the demeanor I saw was actually a carefully constructed wall. In a subdued voice, I was forced to start the conversation. "My name's Preston." I felt that offering my hand would seem childish and utterly inappropriate for what I was hoping would happen that night. He was more than a moment in responding. "Brandon." My hand shook a little, but as I cast my eyes about the room to avoid dwelling upon it, I replied. "An interesting place. Never saw anything like it before. Almost Bohemian." With a slight smirk, he said. "A lot of the hustlers take the johns here to settle terms before going farther, and then there are a number of places nearby to go. Haitian cabbies drift about like checkered sharks in case it’s a hotel job." I took a hearty gulp of the drink after that. As my throat burned, the truth crashed down, taking everything apart like a dropped puzzle. I knew that ‘innocent’ was written on my hands, but never I thought ‘naïve.’ Where to look? The table, the floor, my arms, all covered with fragments of my fantasies. Odd that he was clean. "Don't tell me you didn't know." He playfully rolled his glass between those pale hands. "You approached me, after tracking me for a long time, the other day." I was still in shock, my mouth open, no doubt. I came to when I heard "Enough of this," and he rose to leave. My arm shot forth and grabbed ahold of his hand. His skin felt cold and clammy and my first instinct was to let go and rub warmth back into my fingers. "No. Please stay. It's all right with me. Really." He sat back down, but still I could feel that more brick-and-mortar had been added to the wall that separated us. I wanted to knock it down before sharing anything with him, but realized that sitting between us was the Truck Driver, squinting and hooting, offering to pull away Brandon's shirt and to let me see a little skin before I went further. On such unfamiliar ground, with no maps or guides, all I had left was one recourse. That was to feel my way around him and hope to find some crevice that would let me travel inside. My emotions seemed overwhelmed by him, traveling the gray area between simple lust and the yearning for intimacy. In all my twenty years, neither had ever been accomplished. "What are. . . what are your rates?" "Depends on your needs." He loomed closer, reaching across the small table so that his fingers brushed against my hand that held the drink. The touch was shocking, not only from the erotic stroke that traveled my skin, but also the clammy and cold nature, as if his temperature worked on a different scale than mine. I timidly enwrapped his hand my own fingers, ignoring the cold and damp. As I spoke, the words tasted as bitter as the drink, but they had to come out. "I want . . . I want to sleep with you. To spend the night, maybe the morning." I said the words quickly and then grabbed my glass to finish off my drink. The smirk was back in full force, making his face look almost bestial. "Not just sleep. . ." he intoned. He was enjoying making me squirm with my request. Damn, I wanted the waitress to bring me another glass so that I might speak some more, but now the bar looked empty, and the guitar sounded too loud. My mouth was open but only small, guttural sounds came out. I think I was shaking, perhaps a few drops of sweat fell onto the table. I forgot that my hand was still over his until he squeezed my fingers. "No problem, I see what you need. Pay for the drinks and let's get going." My open wallet was a siren cal, two waitresses showed at the table, each eyeing the other balefully over the bill. No words were said, so I threw down a twenty and leave them fighting over the paper. As I turned, I noticed Brandon was leaning against the doorway waiting for me. Now that an arrangement had been made--though I did not recall a price even mentioned--his stance had changed. Before, his slim build seemed ready to quiver, if not twist and dance about. Each step that he made, was made with wild abandon. Now, his hips were cocked like a gun, his tread slow. He languished about, his arms spread wide at times to stroke the buildings along his side. I had a nagging hard-on for him, and stuck my hands in my pockets to help conceal my interest. He noticed immediately and began to laugh, an oddly loud sound when compared to his normal low-level of speech. We went along a maze of streets and corridors until we came to a inner courtyard, a rare sight that most folk who walk the French Quarter never see. Often, they contain old fountains or lush gardens. This one was bare except for several crates stacked like precarious towers and a metal gate set before stone steps down one wall. Brandon had one foot on a slim staircase that led to the upper floors of an adjoining building. I gave one more glance to the odd gate, since basements were rare in New Orleans due to the below-sea level nature of the city, and I was pondered where those steps led. But all Brandon had to do was to call out my name once, and my raging interest returned to what could happen atop the other flight of stairs. Once inside, I found that the upper floor was riddled with rooms. Behind closed doors I could hear sounds and moans, but couldn’t tell if all were sounds of pleasure. Subconciously, I realized now how dangerous my situation was. I had come to an area of the city with no clear way of getting home, and led by a complete stranger. For a moment, the urge to run, break away and head back to the safety of my dorm room crept over met, but before it had time to act, I had followed Brandon into one of the rooms. The room was small and cramped, containing a futon and an old chest. A Salem Witchcraft poster hung on one wall, along with a bizarre display of slate shards. A pile of stones decorated the center of the room, seeming more than haphazard and was disturbing to look at. Other than a few clothes scattered about, the rest was old carpet. Brandon shut the door behind us and leaned against the wood. I waited for a few minutes basked the moonlight that streamed in through a window and feeling somewhat at a loss for words or actions. He just stared at me with those dark eyes. Reacting to my hesitation, he walked to me, stepping so close, I could feel his cool breath on my face. "Take off my clothes." His was a demand not a request. My hands trembled as they went to his shirt. The tips of my fingers brushed against smooth, cool skin as I pulled it off. His chest was slim but toned, nearly snow-white, except for the darker rings around his nipples. All I wanted to do was caress him there, but I know that would not be following whatever rules had to exist in such situations. I knew that he had to be naked completely, so his worn jeans were next. As I unzipped them, he stepped closer to me, until our bodies were nearly touching. I pushed down the denim to expose a pair of black boxers, which showed the strain of Brandon's erection. I pushed the jeans down further, passing, with admiration, firm, muscular legs with not a wisp of hair to be seen. I helped him out of his sneakers, peeled off his socks, and then his jeans. He stood there in his underwear, the darkness of which contrasted with his skin so that it looked like his body stopped at the waist only to begin again in mid-thigh. I was entranced by the contrast; and one of my fingers had to reach out and touch his boxers just to ensure that it was indeed fabric. My hand ended up on the inner side of his leg, and I began to lazily stroke skin that was as smooth as milk. I looked up to see a half-smile on Brandon's face, and realized even as I saw it that I could accept that. I brought my own face closer until we were brushing against each other. The sensuality between us rose and I became aware that my own dick was still constrained, which reminded me that I was still fully dressed. As I stood there, one of his hands went to my neck, cupping itself underneath my chin. To my flushed skin, it was a cool compress. I sucked in my breath, feeling the blood race around his touch. Then, that hand drifted down, over my shirt and to my waist. It hesitated a moment before sliding up between the fabric and my skin. That I could feel such pleasure in his stroking my chest was astounding, I feared that I would completely collapse into a quivering mass if and when his hand went lower. I could not help but sigh and softly moan. My eyes were closed. He never said a word as his hand left me. The loss of such contact was frightening; all of a sudden I was left disoriented. I opened one eye to see that he was stretched out on the futon, one hand stroking the front of his boxers as the other did a slow wave to bring me closer. The fact that I would have to undress myself caused a wave of disappointment. I saw again how immense and intact the wall that Brandon had built, remained. For the last few minutes, I had been lost in fantasy. The fact that I was paying for a night's passion, however exquisite it may turn out to be, returned and threatened to dull my desire with self-disgust. My hands fumbled in removing my clothes. If he noticed my inner turmoil, he said nothing to ease my thoughts. Stripped bare except for my briefs, I crawled onto the futon besides him. He still wore that almost-grin. Along with adrenaline, my blood carried doubt, the whole mixture making me feel weak and lost as I laid there. Brandon leaned towards me on one elbow and with his free hand began to brush his fingers through my hair. His touch was so gentle and comforting that it felt like I had just drunk a tonic to chase away my fears. He leaned in to kiss me. His mouth was chilled, but rather than disturbing, I found the sensation delightful. Wickedly I had to wonder what it would feel like if he went down on me with that cold tongue. I held my breath for as long as I could, letting him explore. My arms went around him, almost sliding along as they made their way to his back. I gripped him close, desperate to bring him closer to me. At some point, he was atop me, rubbing his whole body against me, bringing shivers along the length of my spine. Then he rolled over, disengaging himself. Rather than speak, he guided my hand down to his crotch. The nerves along my arm readied themselves for what my touch would find. I slid his boxers down, exposing his erection. Around the base was a sparse arrangement of black hair that curved down to his scrotum. I leaned in closer to marvel at the dichotomy: it was both the softest skin and yet it felt so hard. I let myself rub along the length, now and then gliding down to cup his sack in my palm. When his hand pressed against the back of my head, inching me closer to his cock, I knew what he wanted me to do. I expected his cock to have a taste, but instead there was just a certain firmness that was still delightful. Even here, there was the coolness of Brandon's flesh, and I wanted to warm him with my breath and throat. I had no idea if I was pleasing him; he just lay there calm, looking down at me as I slipped my lips again and again over him. Finally, he lifted my face from his crotch. I moved slowly, not realizing that Brandon had managed to slide behind me and that I was now facing the mattress. Moments later I felt something sliding slowly inside of me, and then withdraw. As the movement returned again and again, I was drew heaving breaths as a tide of pleasure and discomfort ebbed and ripped through me. I could not help but collapse forward and hug the edges of the futon, and I heard him laugh in delight to my response. How long it lasted is beyond me. With a massive moan, I came into the folds of the sheets below me. Soon after, he pulled out from me, then turned me over to watch as he jerked off. His semen sprayed all over his chest and groin, and I was held enthralled by the sight. As his labored breathing eased, he dipped a finger into the streaks of cum and held it up it to my face as an offering. I hesitated, and found him pressing it closer to my shut lips. I opened and took his finger in, tasting him deeply, feeling his salty seed lay on my tongue. We then slept together. Come morning, instead of a shared kiss, he had me go down on him again. I did so without complaint. Afterwards, I gave him whatever money I had left in my wallet, leaving myself only enough change for the streetcar ride back home. He led me back through the streets until we came to a part of Bourbon I recognized. I said good-bye, he merely nodded. But I was not left alone so easily. It seemed that I spent all my time was in remembrance of that night. Perhaps I should have been disgusted, for, to some, I was merely used. But I did not feel this way. Rather my attraction to Brandon had grown beyond the physical. I wanted to meet the challenge of piercing his wall, to find and love the true teen that lurked within. Are most defrocked virgins so naive? The very next night I returned to Bourbon Street to find him. Now that I knew what sort of person I was dealing with, the hunt was easier. He greeted me with only a smirk, but this time as we entered the brothel, he held onto my hand, guiding me back to the room. For the next two weeks it continued this way. Rarely did I fail to find him, once even chasing away another potential customer, though Brandon seemed little bothered by the loss. My studies suffered as the task of college paled in comparison to the task of creating a romance with a prostitute. My newfound dedication began to pay off. Brandon must have developed some fondness for me as he began to refuse my money in the morning. When he took it, it was half-hearted born of a need. Soon he was less demanding during sex, allowing me to slow down each caress and find time to savor each taste and touch. The next step was far too easy, and I found myself staying with him each night, together roaming the streets where he would show me parts of the city few had ever seen. The wall was crumbling; I could hear bits of masonry fall as he guided me about, holding my hand during these private tours of decayed courtyards and manses. During the day we would mostly sleep, venturing out only when bored. I abandoned most of my belonging back in my dorm room, taking only the essentials. The only way to embrace him was to turn my back upon the old life and walk a new path. Sometimes I worried that Brandon did not return my true feelings. Was I only a diversion in his life, one that would last only so long before apathy returned? If so, I drowned my concerns in bitter drink and his heady presence; I would mourn that loss when it was presented to me. Now as a night dweller, I met the other boys who lived in the building. Like some secret clan, they all spoke in whispers, each I saw holding back a frenzy threatening to come unleashed. All were hustlers, though some catered to more exotic clientele. At first I found them distant towards me, like I was only a shadow amongst them. Soon, as they saw how much time Brandon and I were sharing, they began to speak to me, confide in me the events in their lives. I wanted them to let their guard down and regard me as a friend, but no, there still existed a bit of that wall between me and their breed. The story of Remus was fresh from only last semester's teachings. Then one cloud-covered night, with the threat of rain driving most from the open street, Brandon led me not to the room to spend one more night in each other's heat, but to the building's courtyard. He was quiet, the only snatches of conversation he uttered were both vague and unsettling. Something was going to happen that night, besides the thick showers that so-often patronized New Orleans. I had begun to believe that this was my last night with him, that tomorrow he would tell me to return to my old ways, to sunlight and textbooks… and loneliness. There was some measure of truth and foresight in this, as now the old ways are lost for me. The courtyard looked different when lit by fire. All the boys were standing about, many of them carrying handmade torches. I counted several faces hidden behind a variety of sordid masks. Here one crafted from broken porcelain, there a leather bondage visage complete with zippered eyebrows and lips. One of the boys brought Brandon the odd mask he bought so long ago, which he donned without a word to me. It was almost as if I could physically see his wall rearing up to prevent me from reaching him. The brickwork was far older than the flesh it contained. A deep groaning of tortured metal sounded as the iron gate was unlocked and thrust wide open, and the procession began to climb down the steps. Brandon need not have pushed me ahead of him; I wanted to go down and see perhaps the one aspect of his life that had remained hidden from me. The descent was rough on my senses. Flickering torchlight revealed only dripping stone walls decorated with patches of repellent fungus. They were all so silent, only the crackling of the fires and the sound of our feet falling upon the tiles reached my ears. The stench of musty earth was thick in the cool air. How long we walked down those steps, I could not guess, but finally, we reached bottom. My teeth were chattering against the cold, and I dreaded brushing against the stonework around me. I followed the others, but was careful to stay near Brandon. I believe we passed a few unlit chambers, all looking archaic and unsafe to venture into. Someone from the lead of the procession had begun to hum a strange tune that rose and fell in time with our footsteps. Soon other voices joined ours, and I fear to say that some of them emanated from those dark rooms. The corridor ended in a large circular chamber, and the line of masked and unmasked wound its way around a huge pit set in the floor's center. In the dim light, I could just make out the remains of mosaic tiles surrounding the hole. But if they were to decorated with words or icons, I was unfamiliar with the language. Even though it looked more like a pool of black water than a hole of depth, I could hear wind whistling up from the mouth of the hole,. A voice close to me ripped the silence. "Ia Nyogtha! Erikthnar l'hor kadishtu . . . Ia Nyogtha! Ygnaiih Nyogtha k'yarnak!" I was horrified to see Brandon's mouth move beneath the mask, those lips that I had spent so much time touching with every part of my being, now twisted to spit out such obscene sounding words. His voice was no longer a whisper, but seemed like the hoarse screams of some dying animal pleading for release. The others around me took up the chant, hurling it from one to another, until the last shouted it down to the pit. Shards of slate were then tossed into the pit, making no noise, meeting silently with whatever lurked there. That something that dwelled in the darkness of the chasm responded to the entreaties. I could swear that above their hoarse shrieks I heard a terrible sound, like the lapping of thickened water. Their shouting intensified as they began to leap up and down, shaking their limbs. One boy held out his hand. . . and was touched by something from the pit! A stream of blackness, deeper and darker than any my eyes had ever seen issued forth and snaked around that boy's pale wrist. It moved like liquid; and sounded like poison. Each of the boys began to howl, stripping off whatever clothes they wore. I watched as they finally freed themselves to twist and jump, a dance both graceful and horrific. Tentacles of the black thing shot forth to touch their skin, stroke their naked bodies with a lover's touch as they laughed and cavorted. Their firm erections were jolted by the creature's lingering touch, as if it sought out the most potent heat of their bodies, wanting to steal it from them. Several came, showering the blackness with their pale cum, all the while howling with glee. I had not noticed until now that some of the boys had brought bags along the descent. From them they dumped animals into the pit, letting the darkness swallow up a grand course meal. I say animals, and resist dwelling on the few things that squirmed and bawled as they fell. My mind screamed for release and I ran from the room. Even as I stood hunched over in the hallway, my thoughts shrieked, wanting peace and forgetfulness. I trembled and cried, wondering if it would not be best to rip my eyes free and cast them aside for having betrayed the rest of the body. Before my clawed hands could move, I heard someone enter the corridor from that accursed room. I looked up to see Brandon standing over me, his mask slightly askew, his naked body glistening with an iridescent slime. Even then lust caught me, my eyes glancing downward to note how rigid he was. He lifted me up gently, to meet his face. Then I watched as one of his fingers reached down to his chest and brought back a daub of that muck. He held it before my eyes; I could see the oily sheen it had. Then he offered it to my lips. I could read nothing of his thoughts through the mask. But the decision was made, had been back in that bar past the Line weeks ago. Before he had a chance to withdraw the offer, I wrapped my mouth around the finger and sucked hard. The slime tasted acrid and felt like cold slush falling down my throat. But I did not gag or show any signs of suffering. Brandon let me taste his finger for several minutes, and then he withdrew it and returned to the festival, leaving me alone again in darkness. I slipped down the wall, knowing that something black had entered me and was festering in my gullet. When they brought me back to the surface, Brandon had to carry me back to his place. I sank into a deep sleep troubled with images of dripping black water. I awoke to the little sunlight that crept through the boarded windows. To my side, Brandon was still asleep, his face serene, so different from the mask he had worn the night before. I rose without disturbing him and, dressed only in underwear, took the stairs down to the courtyard. Here I am. The hours have passed, and I have been staring at the closed gate. What happened last night was no delusion, I am sure, but rather something like a wedding. But to what am I married? The night came upon me while still in this fugue. The air holds a slight breeze warm against my bare skin, and I wonder just how cool my touch is now. Nobody forced this path of corruption upon me, nor did they place my hands on the metal bars and aim my eyes to those dark steps. I am solely to blame. But to what end? A light touch on my shoulder does not startle me, and I find the fingers assuring. I turn to find Brandon before me, naked in the night. He takes one of my hands in his, guiding it to his bare chest, against the smooth skin. We come closer and know that inside we both share a black taint. Together we make our way back to our room. For the first time, I am master upon the bed, selfishly taking before I give any pleasure. Afterwards we lay together and now I know that for all my waking moments when I dreaded the path I walked, the companion I had found along the way has made the harsh price worth it.
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To understand the set up for this series you need to read 'Nipple Series, Mr. Daniels ' found in the General Bareback Fiction section of Breeding Zone. _____________________________________ As Nick's beautiful cock exploded in my mouth my only thought was 'swallow, swallow ever last drop '. As he pulled up his shorts and left the bathroom cubicle at the drive-in I knew that my obsession with his nipple and sex life had turned into insanity. My next thought was, 'this was not a dream, I'm awake and can taste his cum. Fuck, I've got to get back to work.' It was near the end of my first summer home from university. I had taken the job running the drive-in concession for the sole focused purpose of getting glimpses of Nick's nipple when he took breaks from the endless parade of women he brought to make out with at said drive in. I'd get so turned on anticipating his emerging from his car for intermission. I would have seen he'd been making out and he was always fixing his fly and either pulling on his shirt or headed to my booth bare chested. Other than my regular breedings from Mr. Daniels that summer my sex life consisted of these frequent viewings of Nick's nipple and dreaming about what he did with the string of women he brought to the drive-in. For weeks I chided myself to at least find the balls to suck on his nipple. But as I used the urinal beside him each intermission my mouth would freeze up and I couldn't even make simple words of greeting. One extra hot humid night near the end of the summer he arrived with not one but two women. All three had quickly piled into the backseat with Nick in the middle. As he emerged for intermission he was buck naked, quickly pulling on his cut off jeans and tucking in his hardon when he got out of the car. Changing his routine he went directly to the bathroom. I excused myself and rushed off hoping I wasn't too late to catch him at the urinals. I almost crashed into him as I entered, he was about to leave. "What's your problem Phil? You can't possibly have to pee every time I do. Looks to me like you want to suck my dick. " he barked. " Aw, .. um .. Just your n ... ni ...nipples actually ." I stammered. With that he grabbed my hand and towed me into the closest cubicle. As he fastened the door he said "Don't you dare tell anyone about this." Then he pulled my face down to his bare chest. I licked it's saltiness like a baby calf at a salt lick. He softly moaned with pleasure. Then he pushed my head down 'til I was crouching in front of his crotch. "I know you want it, open my fly." My hands trembled as I fumbled to open and drop his shorts. When released his boner sprung up and hit my cheek. I instinctively grabbed hold of it. "Come on Phil, suck it. You know you want to. You've been stalking me for years." Besides Mr. Daniels this was only the second cock I'd had in my mouth. I glommed on like an infant at a tit. "No teeth faggot, come on. Do I need to get my girls to show you?" As I opened wider and made more use of my tounge he pushed in to the hilt of his seven inches. As he held my head in tight I began to gag. "You really need those two bitches with me tonight to teach you a few tricks faggot." I doubled down my efforts and he was soon face fucking me like the pro I would eventually become. I must have improved quickly because he rutted away in my mouth for the next 5 minutes. "You should be glad I'm a multi cummer. One bitch already got my first load and I'll have three more for them even after you get your's." Which is when his gorgeous cock exploded and flooded my mouth. I couldn't believe his second load was so large. I swallowed fast for fear it would drown me. Over the last few weeks of that summer Nick would flood my throat three more times. Mr. Daniels got so horny; he was fucking me missionary when I broke my promise to Nick and gave a play by play of taking Nick's first load. As I talked about Nick's cock exploding Mr. Daniels bred me with his most powerful orgasm ever. For the rest of the summer he would grill me for details about my Nick encounters egging me on to get Nick to fuck me like I wanted. Yes I wanted it; but, I didn't get it. At least not that summer. The next summer I returned home to work at the drive-in in an administrative roll. Fran was home lifeguarding again and she came home with Brad, a doctor's son she had been screwing at university. Brad was a tennis pro and was coaching at our local country club for the summer. Fran told me he was bi and had introduced her to swinging. She had told her parents they were dating and they allowed him to share her bed for the summer. Nick was working at a local factory, had gotten married, complete with a baby six months later. He continued to frequent the drive-in, and rarely with his wife. Mr. Daniels and I picked up where we had left off the summer before. He was deeply frustrated that I had only had a couple of gay encounters during the school term and totally bamboozled that I had only let the guys fuck me with condoms. As he bareback fucked me he would grill me for details of my encounters as well as the sexual encounters Fran shared from her experiences with Brad and his swinger circles. I began to believe he couldn't climax without me sharing more and more solicitous details. I was deeply grateful Fran shared so freely with me and lived for that moment he would plough deep into me and unload. Fran, Brad and I were sharing pizza and a couple bottles of tequila one night when Brad hatched a plan. He convinced Fran to seduce Nick into taking her to the drive-in. He and I would join them for a double date. The goal was for Brad and I to have the opportunity to watch Nick screw Fran and then seduce him into fucking Brad and I. I didn't believe we could pull this off but was surprised when Fran reported to us Nick had agreed to the double date. They had necked one night on the boardwalk. She'd allowed him to suck on her luscious nipple and promised he'd get further if he agreed to the drive-in double date. He wasn't going to pass up that offer. Fran and Nick snuggled close in the front seat as Brad fondled my nipple in the back seat. I don't even remember what movie was playing. Brad started deeply kissing me just as Fran looked back to see what we were up to. I caught her eye with a questioning look on my face. She just smiled at me, winked and nodded at me. Her message clearly 'Go for it.' She then bent down in front of Nick and there was no mistaking what we were hearing, she was giving Nick head. His head was thrown back in ecstacy. Brad took this as his cue and quickly unleashed my hardon. His lips were quickly wrapped around it and any doubts I had about his bisexuality vanished. He was clearly very skilled at giving oral and deep throating cock. After about ten minutes I had to pull him off warning I didn't want to cum yet. We switched roles and I did my best with his cock down my throat. He managed to get his fingers behind me and playing with my hole. Again he showed practiced dexterity and my ass sent me signals that it wanted more than fingers probing it. I managed to slip out of my clothes and sat facing Brad on his lap. I don't know where Nick got it but we were in a GMC Yukon so there was lots of room. Brad's raw cock rested in my ass crack and he was trying to maneuver it into my hole. I whispered that he needed a condom. He whispered back; "Fuck, really? I thought all you gay guys do it aux natural?" "Tempting fella, but no ." "Fran, you got a condom? I forgot to bring any." "Oh you guys are getting right to it, nice. Here. " Nick stopped sucking her tit long enough to ask, "Do I get one of those?" "I promised I'd go further and I have sucking your cock. That's it for now bud. " she scolded him. I moved off Brad's lap and rolled the condom on. Fran and Nick watched and then turned back to their making out. I took a couple moments to snog with Brad, moved back to his lap and lowered myself on his cock as he kept it aimed at my hole. I was amazed that his sheathed cock slid in so easily. It felt amazing! A tad smaller than Mr. Daniels' but just as comfortable. Not at all like the two guys that had 'done me with condoms' at school. That's when the 'penny dropped '. I looked Brad in the eye and squinted. He knew right away what I was asking and wordlessly answered by holding up the used condom in front of my face with an evil grin. "What the fuck man?" I whispered in his ear. "I know you let Mr. Daniels do you raw. (Had I told Fran?) Do you want me to ask Fran for another. We spoiled this one." he discreetly whispered back. "Fuck" "That's what I had in mind. " I checked to make sure they weren't watching from the front seat, "Okay, just don't cum in me."
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We all know the regular places Queens Park, Cherry Beach, Hanlans Point, etc plus many back alleys where a guy can get his dick wet because we're so damn horny. Anyone have any secret getaways from the normal? Maybe a movie theater not too many people go to? A hotel bar where the washroom is literally frequented by cumdumps? Or maybe you know a place outside the city, where men flock to for sex. Post it here.
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Toronto 17 March St Patrick's Day. Chelsea Hotel downtown. Black Eagle and Spa Excess on the list. All nighter at the hotel room. Door unlocked and ass up. 420 and poppers friendly.
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I’ve never worked up the courage to go to a bathhouse. I really want to and it’d be a great way to cheat on my husband without worrying about hosting. Any advice? I just seems like a crazy, nerve wracking experience. I cheat all the time but lately it’s been so hard to find anyone who can host. I figured this might be a good option since I have the ability to sneak away.
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There's nothing quite like your first time. Let's see it from this perspective: Imagine being a young gay man, 24, still a virgin, and wanting to explore your sexuality. You scour hookup apps, something new to you, looking for a guy to fuck. After awhile, you find a hot, fuzzy-bodied jock with a sock fetish who agrees to meet you. He comes over that same morning and you both go into your bedroom and sit on the bed. You reach over to grab his crotch, and he does the same to you. You get hot and flustered, never having touched a man this way. Both of you grow harder as you rub each other's bulges. Next thing you know, his jeans and underwear are off, on the floor, and his hard, warm cock is in your hand. You feel how soft its skin is and how it pulsates as you slowly stroke it. The guy then tells you in a soft, sexy voice, "You can suck on it if you want". With that command, you lower your head, mouth open, and engulf the glans, tasting another man's meat for the first time. The texture is rubbery, the flavor juicy. He lays back and moans as you move your lips up and down the shaft, sucking it gently and rolling your tongue around the head. Your saliva coats his cock as you bob your head up and down, creating more friction. You go down further and want to suck his balls, but he says they're too sensitive, so you keep sucking his cock. After several minutes, he says he's about to cum, but you grip his cock tight, not wanting him to unload until you both have anal sex. With him edged, you take your shorts and underwear off and hunker down on the bed, your ass in the air. He puts lube on your hole, and the coldness makes you shake slightly. The next thing you feel is a pressure in your hole, then realize he's inside you. Your mouth falls open, feeling how easy it was to be penetrated and how wonderful it feels to be filled rectally with another guy's dick. You wrap your arms around a pillow and softly moan as he humps your ass, slowly, rocking back and forth. After slow fucking, you beg him to fuck you harder, so he obliges, and you bury your face in the pillow and moan, feeling your ass being pounded. The smell of sex is in the air and the warmth of your bodies makes the room more stifling. You become breathless as he keeps fucking you. Several minutes elapse, and he unloads in your ass. You catch your breath and feel mildly exhausted, but also feel such glee that you finally lost your virginity to a hot guy. Before he redresses, you sit up and inspect his firm ass, seeing that his hole is brown and sparsely-haired, but never get to rim it. He never comes back for more, but you now know that you're going to want dick and ass all the time from this point on. You'll always remember the one who took your cherry.
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Having been (and still sort of) vanilla on the area of foot fetishism, the thought to explore and the act of exploring didn't occur to me until last year. After talking to a foot fetishist on Instagram, it awakened unfocused thoughts that I had several years ago. When I lost my virginity in December 2014, it was to a masc jock who had a sock fetish. I never thought to wear socks during sex, but he insisted I do so. He wore black socks, I wore white socks. His legs were hairy and long, and his feet were pretty big. That was my first hint of a fetish, or at least someone else's. When I lived up north of my current location, it seemed there were a lot more fetishists, especially ones who were into foot play. A guy on Grindr would take off his sandals and show me his sweaty feet in pictures. I remember thinking "that's nice". Another guy I found on a hookup app, a foot master, was very into having his feet served and talked about all the perks and everything involved in it. At that time, I only had a passing interest in men's feet, and actually felt kind of unsure, maybe even a bit disgusted by it. As my sexual encounters grew in numbers, my interest in men's feet started to bubble to the surface. It wasn't after I talked to a foot fetishist from the Pacific west last year that my desire for men's feet exploded. We talked about his experiences with feet and shared pics of feet that we liked, including his own, which are big and soft. It was then that I really wanted to engage in serving other men's feet. My actual "first time" acting on it was in 2020, when I hooked up with a guy from my area. When he came over, he laid on my bed and began to undress. As it had been so long since I had sex, something came over me to suddenly pull this guy's white socks off and lick his left sole and toes. It was brief, but that was just the start. My second experience happened last July. I invited a guy I talked to on Grindr over for a massage. Since I didn't know what his face looked like, I was nervous, but when he came to my door, he was tall, gorgeous and had a soft voice. I figured he was just going to remove his shirt and have me rub his back, but when we got into my room, he stripped naked and laid on his stomach on my bed. I was in awe at how beautiful this specimen of a man was. I proceeded to scoot in and rub lavender oil on his back, shoulders, neck, arms and legs. His muscles were tight, but I got him loosened up and relaxed. I wanted to rub spearmint lotion on his feet, but asked if I could play with them first, and he said I could. With his big feet dangling over the edge of the bed, I knelt down on the floor and picked up his right foot and leaned in to sniff it. Smelled like day-old sweat. The scent made me ravenous. I started running my tongue over his smooth sole, up to his heel, and back down again, then dragged my tongue under the bottoms of his toes and gently sucked on each toe, repeating this with his left foot. Both of his feet were in my hands at this point. I stuck the top half of his right foot far into my mouth and sucked his skin. It tasted amazing. After this, I massaged his feet with spearmint lotion and then we had sex (I will discuss that later). 😉 My third and most recent experience with feet was with a friend of a friend, but will keep that private. Along with the one foot fetishist, I have talked to several others, and I feel more comfortable now talking about feet, thinking about feet, and what I want to do to feet. As if my libido wasn't already high enough, foot fetishism has flooded my mind to where it occupies almost all of my daily thoughts, like it's a craving/addiction that must be satisfied immediately. I have a Tumblr blog solely dedicated to male feet and it already has nearly 4k followers and over 1000 posts. I really love the size, shape, texture, scent and flavor of a man's feet. Men's feet and toes that have the right amount of length and thickness to them drive me wild. Smooth, hairless feet are my favorite. I can't get enough.
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Went out of town with my husband this past weekend for Valentine’s Day. And obviously I had to find someone to hookup with. I downloaded Grindr and had a few hits, but ultimately no luck, so I searched sniffies. A guy at a hotel across the street from mine was looking. Same age and stats as me—mid 30’s, 200lbs give or take, 6c. He was married and straight looking for a slut to suck him or breed. He was into poppers as well which was a major turn on. I was able to lose my husband for a bit and have some time to play so I headed over to the hotel. I got to his room and it was dark. We started to make out immediately and he shoved poppers in my nose as soon as I started blowing him. For the next 45 minutes we both got high on poppers and sucked each other, coming up for air every so often to make out with each other. He was a slow cummer and after a while I ended up shooting my load in his mouth. He saved some and we made out with my cum. I went back to work on his cock, licking up his delicious precum, but unfortunately he wasn’t able to finish. It was still a good time, and we both loved cheating on our partners. I got dressed and headed back to my room before my husband came back. I kissed him when he walked in the room and wished him a happy Valentine’s Day.
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I'm a guy from northwest Indiana who has an insatiable ass fixation. I come from an area where guys like to wear their pants low and have baggy boxer shorts or tight briefs. You can imagine what that does to me once my eyes catch glimpse of it. My lust for the male ass started in high school. A hot jock in my history class sat next to me and I would notice that his jeans would slide down in the back when he sat in his seat, revealing his blue briefs. You could see the outline of his buttcrack in them. That's all I could focus on most days in that class. The one that really got me hooked belongs to my straight buddy, "Sam". He wore khaki shorts and sandals a lot. Not only did he have amazing legs and feet, but his ass is bubbly and huge. We shared a few classes. In our social studies class, "Sam" sat diagonal from me and would slump in his seat so much that his shorts came down quite a bit in the back, exposing his smooth asscrack. I'm not sure I ever saw underwear under those shorts, but I would gaze in awe at his ass every time we had social studies class. Once, another guy who sat in front of me noticed Sam's exposure. Could only imagine what he was thinking. "Sam" and I also had science class, and he sat directly in front of me, with a space between our desks. That gave me enough view of his ass, and again, his shorts would come down and expose his crack. I got so hot and bothered once, that I took out my notebook and drew a sketch of his big ass with my dick in between his buttcheeks. There were times that I would hang around him just to get my eyes on that ass. It's a really amazing ass. Fast forward years later, and "Sam" and I were chatting via Facebook message once evening. I revealed to him that his shorts would slide down as he sat at his desk, and he laughed at the matter. I also told him that people noticed, even myself, and said he has a nice butt. He appreciated my compliment. I told "Sam" I wanted to see it again, so after some slight hesitation, he sent me a side shot of himself in his underwear, that big ass bulging out of his briefs. I was instantly hard. I wanted to see his ass minus the underwear, but he never did send that. Found out that another guy I went to high school with, who is also gay, is friends with "Sam", and we talked about what we'd do with Sam if we had sex with him. It was nice to talk to someone about "Sam" and his amazing ass, as I'd been holding in those emotions so long. I'd give anything to rim and fuck that bubble butt, even today. It wasn't until I was 24 that I got close enough to another guy's ass. I hooked up with a hot jock I met off of Adam4Adam in December 2014 and that was when I lost my virginity. Unfortunately, as close as I was, I did not get to rim that guy's ass, which was firm and sparsely-haired around his brown hole, but wish I had. Despite that missed opportunity, I have had several guys feed me their ass. I've had guys spread their ass on the bed for me, lay back with their legs up, and have had guys sit on my face. There is nothing like feeling a guy's fleshy buttocks around your face, smelling the musk emanating from their crack and tasting the tangy flavor of sweat from their asshole. I love digging my tongue in there and flicking it around, making sure I clean it up good. Fingering guys is also fun, especially when I get deep enough and stimulate their prostate. That drives them wild, and I've had guys blow their load solely from getting fingered. I've even fisted a guy and made him holler. I love feeling a guy's insides brush against my palm and fingertips. I've never penetrated a guy with my penis yet, but hopefully someday. Right now, I just can't get enough of men's asses; big, rounded ones with little to no hair, and eating them out. I'd eat ass every day if I could. I'm an ass pig at heart.
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Like the title says, I'm a bottom in Pinellas really horny Andy ready for cock. If anybody is a top with no STDS are down, text or call and I'll send address. 7272947594
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