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Gloryhole Loads for My Boy Chapter 1. When we first met, we fucked safe. Even with a condom on, my boy would make me pull out to cum, in the rubber, just in case. He was downright prudish. I asked him what he was so afraid of, and he confessed that he fantasized about taking raw cock, even from POZ men. His fantasies scared him, but as he told me more, I kept getting more and more hard. After his confession didn’t scare me off, he started talking while I fucked him, begging for me to cum in him. He’d go so far to plead for me to breed his pussy. During a particularly hot session, I pulled out to catch my breath, and he ripped the condom off and guided my raw cock into his hole for the first time. It was so hot, I only lasted a few more strokes before filling him with my load. He just grinned at me. After that, we never used condoms again. I asked him if he liked taking loads, and he just sheepishly smiled. I told him that I’d be happy to cum in him whenever he’d let me. That kept us satisfied for a few weeks. I’d rail him and then ask where he wanted my load, and he’d beg for it, pushing me over the edge and cumming inside him. I never pulled out to cum on his hole and push it back in. He wanted cum deep inside. I regularly watched his hole cling to my dick as I pulled out. His hole would wink and then start to leak a trickle of my cum. The sight of his freshly bred hole kept me hard. My boy saw how excited his cummy hole made me, and he jerked me back to full hardness and guided me back into him. I loved watching my own cum squelch around my cock as I slid back and forth. He was loving how sloppy and slippery our fuck was. He gasped, ‘Yeah, use that cum. Lube your dick with that cum!’ That got me going and I came deeply inside. When I pulled out a second time, he fingered his hole and worked two fingers in. I jerked him off with one hand and added two fingers to his hole. He was more cummy and looser than he’d ever been before, and we both loved it. He came all over his chest and I gooped it up and pressed it into his open pussy. My boy looked up at me and asked if I thought less of him for being so slutty. I told him how much it turned me on to see his used fucked-out hole. He suggested we do this again in a few hours, and we did! I came twice, again, and he came once, and all three loads went into his ass. Followed by four slimy fingers. We repeated the feat every few days for the next few weeks. By that time, even with a cummy hole full of fingers, I could sense his cunt wanting more. After playing with his hole for a bit after a verbal naughty session, I reached into his bedside table, where I knew he kept a dildo. His hole was so gooey that I was able to slip it right in. My boy squealed with delight. He slid two fingers in alongside that rubber cock and I worked his dick until he shot again. We collapsed into a cummy sweaty mess and slept hard. To be continued... Note: This will be a six-chapter story. And yes, they're all written. It's filthy. I'll post a new chapter ever couple of days. This is dedicated to a certain piggy guy, who deserves a piggy man to help him on his journey. We all deserve that.
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I have a weakness for alpha law enforcement men. They are the ones I want to receive quality seed from into my body. I'll share pictures of men in the media including ones I know personally. Please share your favorites. My first picture is of a deputy from the Bergen County New Jersey Sheriff's Office. He posed for a cops calendar and I've been trying to find his name for a long time. Please let me know if you might have this calendar and it lists names. I'd love to ride his bone during a long weekend!
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Today I got to thinking about the times I’ve had sex with cops over the years. Here’s my rundown. Hope you don’t mind the length - think of it as five separate stories. My first hookup with a cop took place at my sisters wedding reception at the local union hall. I was all of 19 years old and the cop could not have been too much older. I saw his name badge, Anthony something. He was slim, dark hair, olive complexion, with a 5 o’clock stubble. A handsome, swarthy, Italian. I chatted him up and gave him all the signals. His occasionally reaching down to adjust himself told me I was on the right track. After awhile, he announced it was his break time and that he was gonna go take a leak. He paused for a half beat and walked away. Message received, I followed close behind, through the hall and down the stairs to the lower level. The bathroom had an old trough urinal. There was no-one else there. We pull up together, side by side, and haul out our meat. He immediately releases a powerful stream, while I manage barely a dribble. “Impressive”, I remark. We both stroke the last few drops of piss out. Our dicks swelling visibly. He smirks as he puts his cock away, zips up, and signals me to follow. He walks quickly to the back of the men’s room and through a door marked “Janitor”, me right behind. Once inside, he locked the door lock with authority and turned to me. Grabbing me by the lapels of my rented tux, he swung me around and pushed me to the wall. I was stunned for a moment as he stepped back and hauled out his now fully hard cock. “This what you want, FAGGOT?”, he spoke in a harsh but hushed tone. I stood there jaw slack. “SUCK IT!”. My knees hit the cement floor as I took his uncut cock in my mouth. “You like that, FAGGOT?!” He asked as he slapped my face - hard. “Yeah! You liked that didn’t you?” I did. I liked it. A lot. He didn’t have a big dick but it was angry, veiny as hell, and hard as steel. After only a few seconds of sucking he grabbed the sides of my head and started skull fucking me. “Yeah. That’s how you want it - that’s how you need it” He was all out pounding my face now. I could feel his belt start causing damage to my forehead and the bridge of my nose. “Oh fuck! I’m gonna fuckin’ cum. You hear me FAGGOT! I’m gonna fuckin cum and you’de better swallow every fucking drop”. This was divine torment. I was being face raped by a cop. “TAKE IT! FUCKIN’ TAKE IT!” he spit the words out as he filled my mouth with seed. I felt my eyes roll to the back of my head as he grounded himself into me. “Every drop. FAGGOT! Every fucking drop. I don’t wanna see one drop on my uniform”. Needless to say, not one drop of cum got on his uniform. Blood from my forehead, however, was another thing. He grabbed a paper towel, “Clean that up!”, he ordered. I wiped my blood off his belt. He straightened himself up and tucked himself in. I knew better than to get up from the floor. “I’m gonna walk out of here. You,’”, he said leaning down with a pointed finger, “are gonna stay here for five minutes before you leave. Understand?” I saw rage and contempt in his face. I didn’t dare look him in the eyes. “Yes....Sir.”, I croaked out. He turned and as he opened the door he muttered “Fucking FAGGOT”. I stayed there, on the floor, my knees aching, blood trickling down my face, cum on my lips, and all I could do was pull out my cock and jack off ‘til I came. Once I had cleaned up, I went back upstairs. I saw him standing there in the same place we started. And it was like nothing ever happened. He looked at me like any other party random goer. No hint of recognition. Nothing. Compete poker face. I had to explain how I “walked into a door” to a couple of people. To this day, I have a tiny scar between my eyebrows as a reminder. Second cop was an early bf of mine. Well...bf is too strong a word. More accurately, he was a guy who fucked me on the regular. Denny would call me late at night (this was before cell phones, so no texts) and come over for a booty call. Usually on Friday and Saturday nights. We met when he responded to a two vehicle accident I was involved in. Don’t ask how it moved from that to him fucking me later that week. I honestly don’t remember. Denny was a beast. Blond, barrel chested, big fucking uncut cock - seriously, he had an 8” hooded monster. He’d come by for a pump and dump. So I’d always clean out before bed those nights in case he called. Once he arrived, he would just walk in (he never knocked). There was to be no talking. I would ‘assume the position’ (laugh) head down ass up at the edge of the bed. He would drop trou, grease his uncut meat, and slide into me slowly. (That last part, a concession he made at my request, for originally he would impale me all at once and rip my guts apart.) Once in me, he would take a long hit of poppers and he would be gone. Totally in his own head as he fucked me. I was a meathole. A fucksleeve. A slightly more satisfying option than just jacking off. Nothing more. Sometimes he would fuck me slowly, lazily. Other times he would completely pummel me to the point of destruction. I never knew which to expect. And all through that, not one word from him, until the end. When he was ready to cum, he would stop, reach down, pull his gun, put it to my head and croak out the words, “Don’t you fucking move! Stay very, very, still.” A long pause would follow, both of us frozen in place as the muzzle of his gun dug into my scalp - only then I would feel his dick spasm deep inside me. I could feel every rope of cum as it shot out of him and into my cunt. We would stay there suspended as he emptied himself into me. His cock deflating inside me until finally, he would take a step back; his gun finally returned to its holster. This was my signal to turn and clean him off with my mouth. Sometimes, just sometimes, he would softly stroke my hair. This ‘arrangement’ lasted most of a year. Then, by winter, he stopped calling/coming over. I never saw him again after that. >>> EDIT: The first time he did that gun thing, yeah, I freaked out. But he showed me that he had, in fact, removed the clip, emptied the chamber, and engaged the safety. He apologized but said doing that was gonna be a deal breaker for him. The fact that I was young and stupid and he had a big dick overrode my good judgement. Denny was...intense - to say the least. Third cop was a state trooper named Robert. We met at a gay leather weekend event. Lean muscled, late 40’s, hairy chest, flattop haircut, graying temples. Total cockpig. Sucked me with an expertise I rarely experience anymore. I fucked him legs up in my hotel room that night. That man had a pussy on him that felt tight all the way to his core. And his cunt milked my dick like nothing I had experienced before. Seriously. I was having real trouble lasting more than just a few minutes fucking him. He agreed to stay the night with me (something I rarely do) so I could fuck him again the next morning. Seeing this 100% masculine, lean, blue eyed Daddy riding my cock cowboy style that next morning; his soft, useless dick bouncing and jiggling before me drove me wild. He was the embodiment of unapologetic, sexual abandon. I bred him again that morning before we parted ways. I would see him again late that night in the playroom. He was up in the public sling taking in all cummers. I do believe every top at that run dumped his load in Robert at some point that weekend. Sunday morning, we traded info and eventually set a date for me to visit for the weekend at his home (he lived a couple of counties away). Only learned he was in law enforcement when I arrived at his house and there was a trooper vehicle in his driveway. He chuckled and verified that yes, it’s his car. Fucked him every which way there is in his basement sling and his fuckbench. He even let me fuck him (partially) in uniform. Hot weekend. Visited him again another time; he had set up a gang bang for himself. Me and five other guys took turns on him in the course of the day. We’d drink beer, smoke cigars, eat barbecue, and fuck Robert. I’ll confess - I could have developed feeling for Robert...I was developing feelings for Robert. He was everything I’d ever want in a man. But he made it clear he wasn’t interested in a relationship with anyone. I would see him again at other leather events; up in the sling. I take a turn sliding into his cummy cunt. Our eyes would lock as I fucked him. The feel of his cumslicked pussy only making me breed him even more quickly than normal. And once I had bred him and another dick had taken my place, he reached for my arm, pulled me to him, and kissed me deeply - something he did with very few cummers - before I folded back into the crowd. The fifth cop was Roy. Roy had been one of other invitees at that group scene at Robert’s house. Roy works as a deputy in a nearby suburb of my town. More of a bubba - heavy set dude with a stubby dick. But he fucking makes those four and a half inches work. Seriously. The man never goes soft and he is a multiple cummer. It’s fuck, cum, pause, repeat. Three or more times per session. (I know, right?) That little dick has real stamina and staying power. (Never underestimate a man because he has a small dick.) Roy is also a helluva good bottom. He loves his toys when he bottoms. I still have four or five favorite toys that he likes me to use on his cunt when he comes over. He taught me a lot about playing with toys during our sessions. Done right, it makes him drip precum like a leaky faucet. Which he uses to jack himself off and cum REPEATEDLY. I’ve learned a lot about Roy and his family. And over the years, we have traded a lotta cum back and forth between us. More and more time passes between fuck sessions. Of course, 2020 made hooking up impossible - so looking forward to seeing if the magic is still there in 2021. Hope you enjoyed reading about my experiences. Leave a comment if you did. :-)
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Some would say being a cop is a power trip. They are not wrong. I've been known to throw my weight around once in a while. I do get off pulling some poindexter over in his brand new Tesla and testing his mettle. And yes I do wear the mirrored sunglasses so they can't see my eyes. I just stand still with my cop poker face and let them do all the talking. Most guys can not take the heat, they start babbling on and on. If they aren't too pathetic I might let them off. Occasionally one will give me 'that look', if he can take his eyes off my crotch long enough to look me in the face. And if I am in a really shitty mood I still give 'em a ticket after they've blown me. What can I say, power is addictive. So I did not bring in this particular poindexter, let's call him Dex. Art collard him on a charge of indecent exposure, caught the guy pissing in a car park. Not legal buddy. Of course no man in his right mind would give a shit about another man taking a leak where ever it was handy but the complaints from Miss Prude and Suzie Homemaker can get to be a real pain. This guy was a whiner. His excuse? Some medical condition about his bladder, unable to control himself, blah, blah, blah. Drink less or wear a diaper, I don't care. He made his problem our problem so voila, a trip to the brink. The thing about him is he's hot in a sort of nerdy professor way with his round glasses and tweedy clothes. I gave him a good look over and yeah, he had potential. I could imagine him getting off his charge if I got off in him. Art, the lazy fucker, handed him off to me so he could go feed his fat face. Fine with me. I wanted feel this guy out, see if maybe he'd like to make a deal to go home without an arrest sticking. He was a fidgety bugger constantly looking around and pulling at his tie. He asked a lot of questions and I knew he would do anything to get off. I made a point of eyeballing his wedding ring which he quickly covered with his right hand. I let him stew while I went to have a chat with one of the jailbirds. Stan was a frequent visitor to our fine establishment, mostly because he was a drunk. Once in a while he'd go too far and cause a disturbance. He was an okay sort of guy, not a nasty drunk and once I told him what I had in mind he was in. All he had to do was lean on Dex a little, some sexual innuendos about being in jail, what it's like on public watch lists, that sort of thing. Get old Dex in a panic and I'd swoop in and take full advantage of the paranoid academic. I made Dex hand over his tie, belt, vest and shoes. The last not because I had to but because I wanted him to feel as vulnerable as possible. His bespoke attire fitted him perfectly showing off a slim lightly muscled frame. Definitely fuckable. Dex was going home with my load, he just hadn't agreed to it yet. Luckily it was getting late and the station was settling down for the night. Lots of time to play with no distractions. Art walked by with a plate of pastries and gave me a long look over his glasses. He knew me too well and if I was going to drop a load he wanted his turn. Art had a monster cock so Dex was in for it if things went that way. Luckily for him I would be happy to warm up his hole with my normal size meat. It was comical to watch Stan playing devil on the shoulder as he whispered who knows what in Dex's ear. It made me hard. Poor Dex was practically sobbing as he imagined life as a convict. In our assbackward state someone convicted of public indecency is put on the same list as a sexual predator. Dex could lose his career over a quick whizz. Time for me ride in on my white horse, save the day and get some ass. I removed Dex from the cell to have a little chat. The man was visibly relieved to be away from Stan. Can't blame him, Stan reeks of cheap beer and cheaper gin. I let the silence hang until he broke down and begged me for help. Bingo. I didn't mince words. I asked him if I helped him out of his jam what was in it for me. He stuttered as his mind raced to think of something. He was smart enough to not suggest money. I am willing to bend the rules but I am not that kind of policeman. "I don't know," he finally offered. "I just don't know. What do you want?" I grabbed my crotch. "It's been a long week. I could use a little attention." The bulge in my pants left no doubt what I was after. Dex gulped. "I don't think I could do that," he muttered, eyes downcast. I shrugged. "Just as well. I don't think I could risk my career to let a sexual offender off scott free." "But I am not a sexual offender," Dex growled with some vehemence. He looked so sexy in his anger. "That's not what the law says. You broke the law buddy and now you are asking me to break it for you. Either way there is a price to pay, now or later, it's your choice." I lewdly groped myself ready to end the chit chat and see what his pouty lips looked like wrapped around my engorged cock. I was so hard by then the tenting looked obscene. Dex deflated. "I can't. I won't. Take me back to the cell." I wasn't worried. We had all night to play this game. Happily for me the cell had two new occupants. Stan was talking to a scary looking piece of white trash with neck tattoos and in the corner sat a sullen punk with eyebrow piercings and a mohawk. Dex moved as far away from the other men as possible. I went to talk with Art. "Any luck," he asked. He had red jelly in the corners of his mouth. "Almost there. He needs a little more persuasion. Why don't you try your lawyer bit." Art adjusted his crotch. Having eaten Art was always in the mood afterwards to bang out a load in a willing hole or even a not so willing hole. Art was a slob but he was also a genius at manipulation. He grabbed a stack of papers. Didn't matter what they said he would make it up as he went along. Again I did my peeping Tom bit as he talked things over with Dex: the trial, public notices in the paper, public defenders vs. lawyer's fees, likelihood of a guilty verdict, life on sexual predator list, probation, on and on. Fairly devastating stuff. Dex seemed to shrink in on himself as he asked Art to get me. He was mine. I strolled in and asked Dex what he wanted, like I had no clue what he could possibly want from me. Making him squirm only made my dick throb. The power trip thing. He mumbled something not wanting the other jailbirds to overhear. I wasn't having it. I made him speak up. He wanted my deal but, smart man, he wanted clarification. I made it easy. If he could suck me off to completion he could go home, that simple. Of course the other guys perked up when they heard what I had to say. Dex winced at the loudness of my voice but nodded. I stood up straight, spread my legs and pushed out my groin. Dex's eyes widened, "Here?", his question was half whine half plea. "Why not, the boys here might like a little show." My grin was diabolical. I was in full top mode and didn't give a fuck what anyone thought of me at that point. Time to use my authority. "Get on your knees and suck my cock or I am going to leave you in here with these horn dogs." Dex glanced around nervously eyeing the other men as they adjusted their crotches eager for the show to begin. I had to push Dex down on his knees. He didn't resist much. I ordered him to take out my cock. He was a robot, his eyes glazed over as he gave in to his fate and formed his lips around my meat. It was a terrible blow job but that only served to turn me on more. First time no doubt. I don't mind a little rough in my play, his teeth had a habit of getting in the way. The thing about me is I can rarely get off with a blow job. I usually need to fuck so if I can't blow with a good cocksucker at work what chance did Dex have at coaxing out a load. And that was the deal; to completion. My nut was so firmly gelled in my balls there was no way Dex was going to be a free man any time soon. It was going to have to be his ass. Patient man that I am I let him polish my knob for a good long time before I informed him that he was going to have to change tactics. It took a moment for that to sink in. He begged for a few more minutes. To give him credit it was a better effort. He must have reached deep to remember what he likes. He massaged my balls (loved it), used more tongue (got my pre cum streaming, better for him when I cornholed him), and stroked my shaft. Maybe I could have shot being so turned on by abusing him but I held out. Like I said Dex was going home to his wife with my load warming his guts. Dex was the one to admit defeat, breathing hard and settling back on his haunches he gave me a pleading look but I was not feeling charitable. My cock was throbbing and leaking and ready to rut. "It's time buddy, let's see your hole." Robotically he stood and dropped trou. He had a runner's ass, tightly muscled and hairless. I had to cuff on the back of the head to get him to bend over. A shove moved him over to a bench so he could brace himself. This was going to be a bit of a grudge fuck. He made me work more for his ass than I cared to and I was going to show my displeasure by hammering his hole. Normally I am not a big fan of a spit fuck but it was no time to be fussy. I spat on his crack and started working my meat into him. He took it like a champ, not a word or moan as I steadily pushed my cock into the heat of his ass. I might be an asshole but I am not a brute....well most of the time. I eased in letting him get used to me before I started the fuck. Of course once I got started Mr. Nice made way for Mr. Breeder! Dex had the bench in a death grip and the rhythmic sound of it knocking against the concrete wall was a musical accompaniment to the banging I was delivering to his rapidly heating hole. He felt fantastic! Tattoo Neck and Punk were eyeing the scene eagerly. Both were hypnotically rubbing at their groins while they waited their turn. Stan had his cock out and was openly masterbating. There was no way Dex was leaving that cell without at least five loads buttering his hole. Art would be showing up any minute but I was in no hurry to relinquish my bottom. Dex's hole held me tight in its velvety grip and I could have sworn I felt him push back a couple times when I paused with only my tip buried in his ass. My nuts started to pulse signaling they were ready to release their contents. Punk came forward to wedge himself onto the bench and push his meat down Dex's throat. The evil grin twisting his features as he throat fucked the poor bastard was a spur to my own efforts. I fucked harder pinning Dex between us. I hit that sweet spot of no return and my sack tightened, my cock pulsed. "Take it! Take my load motherfucker," I growled thrusting harder and harder while my manhood raged and spewed its seed deep into Dex's guts. My cock continued to pump and throb with each stroke and the pleasure that enveloped me made me weak kneed. Depleted I stepped backward only to be pushed aside by Neck Tattoo who eagerly plunged his turgid member into Dex's dripping hole. "Fuck yeah," the jailbird sang pistoning into Dex like a machine. Dex gagged around Punk's dick desperate for a breath of fresh air. The delinquent held tight getting off on gagging his cocksucker. Punk's eyes rolled back and he shuddered dumping his load into Dex's throat. The man struggled as he futility tried to knock the confining hands from their constricting grip. Punk held on while he got his nut and cum oozed from both Dex's nose and tightly stretched lips. Neck Tattoo became inflamed with lust battering his fucker with bruising force and bellowing his enraged desire with primal shouts sending Art running into the room. "Well goddamn..." he trailed off as he witnessed the brutal scene. Dex was limp and Neck Tattoo's arms bulged with veins in an effort to hold on to his prize. Punk sat back and surprisingly held Dex's face to his own so he could tongue the man's mouth for a taste of his own cum. The howl of Neck Tattoo's release pierced my ears as I adjusted my package and prepared to zip and buckle up. Stan took his turn sadly ejaculating after only a few thrusts. He came with a whimper then staggered back against the wall. It was time for the real show to begin. Art stepped up to bat and struggled to pull out his truncheon. He was at full mast and the enormous fuck stick had trouble clearing the too small fly. Art had to push his pants down to his knees revealing his fat pimpled ass and pudgy thighs. Out sprang the monster. It was a good thing Dex couldn't see what was coming. There was simultaneous whistles when the men caught sight of what Art sported. Gay or straight there was no man on earth that wouldn't appreciate the size and girth of Art's cock. It looked unreal. Dex's ass suddenly seemed way too small to ever accommodate such a monumental fleshy edifice. He had no choice. Art may have been a fat fuck but he needed a lot of muscle to haul around all that extra blubber. He was a strong s.o.b. and if he wanted in your hole you had better be able to run fast cuz if he caught you....game over. We all inched closer to see the action. Dex was panting, head down, waiting for it to be over. It wasn't going to be over anytime soon, Art was a long haul fucker. What is it about guys with big dicks? They can fuck forever. Art lodged his knob in Dex's crack and began to push. "Ooooh shiiiit," Dex groaned and he held on to the bench like a life line. To his credit he didn't try to get away, stood his ground while Art forced his meat balls deep in Dex's cummy hole. It was a sight and my little buddy started to re-inflate. Punk and Neck Tattoo were flogging their dogs, a look of maniacal lust shining in their eyes. Stan had passed out, his cock still out slowly drooling the last of his load across a hairy thigh. I was mesmerized by the sight of Arts fat cock stretching Dex's hole. The fat bastard wheezed and grunted as he fucked. He was going to croak someday with his dick buried in some poor slob as his heart imploded. I imagined that would be the way he'd want it. Dex was moaning and his legs shook with the exertion of holding his ground while be ridden hard by the rotund Art. Sweat dripped from both men and I suddenly felt the need to fuck. I looked over at Punk and caught his eye. "You want to get out of here tonight?" He nodded. I waved my cock at him. " Get on this and you're out of here." Punk was smart enough to know the score. A blow job wouldn't do and he dutifully presented his hole for me to plunder. I spit and smeared it across his pucker with my already leaky cock. "Go for it man," Punk ordered, "If I can take it from my old man I can take it from you." Alright then. I viciously rammed my meat into him. I might not be hung like Art but my endowment is nothing to laugh at. Punk felt every inch of my manhood as it battered its way into his guts. Just for the hell of it I gave him a reach around and the horny little bastard was as hard as me. Take it my ass, he liked what daddy and I had for him. Art and I fucked. Neck Tatoo beat his meat, the other hand inside his tattered t-shirt abusing his nipples. Punk beat us all to the punch. I had continued pulling on his pecker while my cock made love to his prostate. He shouted as he came and the grip of his orgasming ass on my dick was incredible. My eyes snapped shut and I gasped for air as my second nut coursed it's way through to paint Punk's insides with its beautiful gooey whiteness. Coming down from my orgasm I noticed the streaks of jizz across Punk's back. Neck Tattoo was panting hard and milking the last drops of his load from his uncut penis. Art was still fucking but he was close. It was a silent cum and without a dramatic finish. As always he was suddenly done. His balls emptied spilling their massive load deep in Dex's abused hole. The glory was in the pull out and I made sure to have a front row seat. Art stepped back his glistening shaft slowly uncovering itself as inch after inch retreated. And then the reveal. Dex's ass seemingly reluctant to release its tormenter spasmed and then gaped as Art knob popped free with an audible squish. Cum gushed before his hole could close and his balls were awash in a creamy flood of semen. I was tempted to have a lick, as always, but wouldn't give Art the satisfaction of knowing I wanted to have a taste of his baby batter out of Dex's sweet hole. The post coital energy in the cell was a bit awkward as we all wiped, zipped, buckled and straightened our clothes. All except Dex. He had collapsed across the bench his bare ass shiny with sweat and crack oozing cum. Art snorted and meandered off, probably to go find a cup of coffee and a bundt cake. I hauled Dex to his feet and the bathroom. When he finally emerged he looked none the worse for wear and seem rather chipper for a man who had just been buggered by five men. Art poked his head into the room to inform us that Dex's ride had arrived. I bet you thought I was going to let the poor bastard fry. Nope, I had my fun. I'd already called the guys contact number before I got into his pants. Yeah, I can be a softy too. I had a look into the lobby but only saw a biker looking dude in full leather. I asked Art where Dex's driver was. "That's him," he replied crooking his stubby thumb in the direction of the only man in the lobby. I stared at Dex. "Is that right?" Dex bobbed his head around me to look in the lobby. "Yes," he admitted, "That's my husband." Both Art and my heads jerked back in shock. We took another peek at the mean looking bastard in black boots, chaps, jacket and hat. He was tall, steely eyed and his full beard was flecked in grey. Dex held up his ring finger. "Married five years ago," he turned his hand over as though admiring his bling. "I wasn't too keen but being my master I had to obey. He wanted better control over my income and assets, marriage was the best way to do that." Art absentmindedly chewed on his cake and slurped coffee as he pondered the matter. My perplexed brain was busy re-thinking everything I had assumed about good ole' Dex and I couldn't help but smile at my own ignorance. Dex had a parting shot as he went out the door. "I should thank you boys. If I come home without a pre-loaded hole I have to sleep naked at the foot of the bed." His grin was wide and satisfied. "All the loads banged into me tonight should be good for a few nights between the sheets." With a wink and a nod he joined his man and was gone.
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I used to frequent a park that had one of those old fashioned outhouses. The Men's s And Women's were quit a distance apart and on a secluded path that led up from one of the parking areas. The toilet was a simple concrete shed, with two shutters side by side. Whitewashed, with dirty concrete floor. No door, just a screen. A small slatted window. The smell of shit was strong as it was built over a cesspool. On a summer afternoon I seated myself on one of the shitters and waited. After a while I heard footsteps on the gravel path outside, and in came a state trooper! Tall, middle aged, trim with blue eyes and light brown hair. He nodded to me and proceeded to take off his hat and gun belt and hang them up, undid his uniform trousers and took the seat next to me, giving me a casual nod. I couldn't help taking in his furry legs and very large uncut dick. I was petrified. I kept my eyes down wondering if this were a set up, and if I should leave. After a bit of silence, he lit a cigar, and commented, " beautiful afternoon, isn't it,? I agreed. He did his business ( I'm a raunch pig and all this turned me on) and continued to enjoy his stogie. I glanced over and saw he was stroking his now huge pecker. He caught my look and said" like what you see boy?" I replied Yes Sir, but I don't want to get arrested." He just chuckled and drawled, " get over here and take care of this". I was kneeling in front of him in a flash. I had that magnificent cock in my mouth, going to town. He put a hairy paw on the back of my neck and guided my sucking. After a while he told me to stop, but kept his dick in my mouth. Then he ordered " swallow" and " Don't spill any" and let loose a stream of very strong coffee urine which I gulped down as fast as he could piss." " Good boy, now suck me hard again" . I did. Bending forward a little, he ordered me to wipe him clean. I complied. Having me smell it he pitched it down the toilet, and standing up, dragged me to my feet, turned me around and had me brace myself against the wall, straddling the toilet. Without a saying a word he spread my butt cheeks and rammed all 10 inches right into my hole. Holding my neck he fucked me violently. Whispering in my ear " take like a man, faggot". It hurt so bad I almost cried, but managed to stay quiet. He developed a rhythm of thrusting, almost pulling out,then ramming back in. As my ass got used to it, I gripped him with my ass muscles as he withdrew to shove it in again. And again. Finally he got faster and faster and with a loud "Sheeiittt" blasted cum deep in my guts. He stayed in for a while breathing heavily, then, soft now, withdrew and presented himself for me to clean his cock. He also gave me some more piss to drink. "You're quite a talented pig, faggot boy" he complimented me, as he re-lit his cigar, pulled up his pants and tucked himself in and got dressed. Putting on his hat, he once again nodded and began to leave. But before he went out the door, he gave me the instruction " keep my spunk in you faggot pussy. Later, shit my man juice in a cup, jerk off into it, then drink it. Don't wast a drop. I'll see you again. And drawing on his cigar, turned and left in a cloud of smoke. I just stared after him for along time in amazement and lust. That night I did indeed do what he told me, shitting out a couple of ounces of his cum, and adding my own, savoring his domination and manliness as I drank it.. it was the hottest thing that I ever experienced. And there was more to come...
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- 6
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- rimming
- watersports
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(and 2 more)
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So... Anyone have any thoughts (other than naugthy) about PREVITUS MEDIA? If you're unfamiliar with them, check this shit out at PREVITUSMEDIA.COM. I love it, but this ClownDoll is a big freak.
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