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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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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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Who's fucked a 'straight guy' and who's fucked an actual STRAIGHT guy?!
Guest posted a topic in General Discussion
*** firstly I know there are going to be a few comments like "if a guy fucks another guy then he's not straight" etc.. but I do genuinely believe there are a few straight guys out there that are horny enough will do anything to cum. So keep an open mind….. Having sex with a straight guy is a very hot fantasy! I think most of us would agree. But who's had sex with an actual straight guy? I mean properly straight, not the 'confused or bi-sexual type' (who is actually completely gay and either doesn't want to admit it or doesn't realise it yet) that says they are straight. I'm talking about the straight guys you've been out for a few alcoholic drinks with who've been a bit horny possibly when you've had to share a hotel room bed for the night and you've gotten a bit touchy feely etc but then they've gone back to their girl etc. I've slept with quite a few totally gay but say their straight guys, which is still kinda hot. There was one married hunk though who I hooked up with outdoors and I think he was a properly str8 guy. Very hung, very muscular. He fucked me really hard. I think he was just a horny straight guy who liked it rough and couldn't get that with a girl. He wasn't into kissing, he wanted it doggystyle and quiet. I think for him it was just a fuck and any hole was a goal. I think because he wasn't into the other stuff it was literally just a fuck. So what experiences do you have? Why do you think he was properly straight and not just closeted? Be great to hear about your experiences. -
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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I love to wear a diaper for self watersport/pissing fun, anyone else here into wearing diapers?
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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 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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The Hitch-Hiker (Part 1 – Daniel) It was in late fall. I was driving down the interstate without a route in my mind, without any directions. I was looking for the right guy. He shouldn’t be too tall as I liked my toys around 170 cm. Not taller. He should be skinny as I want to be able to move his body around when we are in action. He should be young, preferably a twink with no body hair at all. While 18 years would be great, certainly no one older than 21. It was around 6:00 PM and it was getting dark already and so I chose to close the books for today and head home, when I saw a blonde angel sitting on his huge backpack at the side of the road and holding a handwritten sign with the single word '‘Portland’. I slowed my car down and slid the window down on the passenger’s seat. “Hey there,” the guy said politely, adding “Going north…. ?” He looked very tired. “Well, I can give you a ride for a while, though I won’t drive to Portland,” I explained. “That’s rocking. Any distance will help," he replied, not moving from the passenger’s side, presumably awaiting my instructions. I got out of my car and, opening the trunk of my car, said "Here, put your backpack in here, and then hop into the car." He turned to his backpack. I could feel my cock growing while he was bending down and trying to lift it from the ground. His tight blue jeans showed slipped down a bit and showed part of his ass. I wanted to rip his clothes off right then and there, but instead I helped him lift the stuff into my trunk. After we both got into the car and fastened our seatbelts I started the engine and we drove off. “What’s your name?” I asked. “Daniel. And yours?" “My friends call me 'Scorpion',” I replied with a grin. He chuckled, saying "I like that," as he added "“Nice to meet you, Scorpion and thanks for giving me a ride.” He gave me a broad smile, flashing his perfect set of teeth. “How long had you been waiting on the side of the road?" “Man, forever, it seems. I had trouble with my girlfriend. We had a huge fight and then she kicked me out of the car, the stupid bitch,” he complained. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I am slightly older than you, but women can be bitches in all decades.” “Well, thanks to you, at least I'm one step closer to getting home," he commented. “Living still at home with your parents?” I asked. Daniel nodded. We kept on talking for a while. Daniel mentioned me he had just celebrated his 18th birthday with the slut of his girlfriend and now he was heading home from this bad vacation. “Would you hand me the water bottle from the back seat?” I asked him suddenly. “Sure” he replied and unfastened his seat belt trying to fetch my bottle from the seat behind. That way I could almost smell his ass cunt, and, as the seat of his jeans slid down, the upper reaches of his butt cheeks were clearly visible. Having retrieved the bottle,he turned around and gave me the water. “You’re thirsty?” I asked. He nodded but told me, that his bottle was in the backpack and that one was in the trunk. I suggested he look around, that there should be another bottle some where in the back seat. I knew there was one left, since I had spiked it with GHB. Again Daniel made his way to show me the moon. My cock was already bulging out dangerously. He opened the water bottle and didn’t seem to register that he didn’t hear the obvious ‘click’ from a sealed bottle. He swallowed a few sips and we continued talking casually. I started to drink from my water bottle again and animated Daniel to drink some more water too. After a while I realized, that Daniel was getting sleepy I slowed down the car speed. It appeared he had drunk about half of the bottle of spiked water. I wanted him to be conscious, but helpless. I hoped he didn’t drink too much. The open bottle in his hand dropped to his crotch and spilled on his jeans. I pulled over into an apparently little used parking lot and stopped the car. There were no other cars in sight. I grabbed the bottle out of the boy's crotch and asked him if he was okay. He wasn’t barely even able to open his eyes, but he saw the mess he produced. “Oh no…. I am sorry mate….. I am just so tired. I don’t know what…..” he mumbled. “No big deal” I replied and added, that it was only water. Still I told him I needed to dry the mess, since the water was already reaching his seat. He nodded solemnly, but didn’t reply and so I took a hand towel I had deliberately placed on the driving console, and wiped Daniel’s crotch, giving his dick a good groping. He moaned and tried to focus on me, but was not able to show great resistance. “Spread your legs, so I can reach the seat” I instructed him. He did, but I didn’t care about the seat. I was, however, very interested in the guy's crotch. It was time. I threw the towel aside and massaged Daniel’s dick unashamedly through his jeans and started opening his buttons. He moaned softly, but didn’t open his eyes anymore. “Got you,” I murmured as I turned back and re-started the engine. I wanted to reach the nearest possible abandoned place, and, as I knew the area very well, I already had a good spot in mind. I glanced at my drowsing new toy and thought ‘The Scorpion is about to sting again'.
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I met Jack, we shook hands and he gives me a light hug and welcomes. We chatted for several minutes and I quickly became at ease. Jack was very good at getting me to loosen up and relax, Eventually he began to explain how things worked. "Just like the massage you might get at day spa, you take off your clothes, lay face down on the table, and you can put a towel over you if you wish to hide your modesty. It's completely optional here. I'm usually undressed as well unless that makes you uncomfortable, and I'll start with a nice soothing massage of your legs and feet. I'll then move up to your back. After we are done with your back side, you will roll over and we will do your front. It's very similar, but hopefully a little more erotic and sensual.” By the way, it's completely OK if you get aroused. I know most men fear this the most and end up being tense the whole time. For an erotic massage, it's natural that you may get aroused. Just don't worry about it at all. You are supposed to feel that way. I am now starting to get excited but still apprehensive. I take my clothes off and lay face down naked. I look up and see he has stripped down to his underwear. He starts with a pretty deep massage on my back and neck using just a little bit of sweet smelling oil. He finds some knots quickly and I start to moan, as it is great and I really start to relax. He then moves to my head and he leans in a bit and blows in my ear, which sends a shiver down my body. He then moves on to my legs and feet, which relaxes me and gets my dick to relax from its semi-hard state. Eventually he starts to work up my thighs to my inner thighs "Is it all right if I remove your towel," Jack said. I thought for second, and then said, "Sure." Jack must have already seen my cock and balls with my legs spread, so what difference did it make?" I thought and as his hand starts to gently brush my balls, as if by accident, which starts the engorgement of my penis all over again. He then starts working my buttocks and occasionally starts lightly stroking my ass hole which gets me fully hard. He takes his time on my ass, and I notice he is starting to lean into me on the table and his penis is clearly semi hard as well, He stops for a moment and I hear the sound of him lowering and tossing his underwear to the side. When he begins to work again I discover he is now working almost exclusively on my ass hole. Suddenly he leans over the table more and I feel this amazing feeling in my ass opening and realise he is rolling his tongue around my ass hole like he was eating an ice cream cone on a hot day. I didn't think it was possible but I getting even harder and more sexually excited and I start to moan and groan all at once. I lose my grip in my concentration, my whole world, seems to be centred on the amazing sensations pulsing from his tongue in my ass throughout the rest of my body! After what seemed like an eternity, but was really probably only a few minutes, he pulls his mouth away and I feel a cool gel being applied to and also a little bit inside my hole. I then feel him start to push a finger in, slowly at first, and then a little faster and deeper. As I am a complete novice at this being a straight guy, I start to panic a bit, but then my pure lust takes over and I again start to moan like a cheap whore trying to excite a client. "I find myself begging him and he complies, but slowly and methodically. Oh my god, please do more. I really love that! Please do more" I practically yell at him, and he just giggles to himself and says, "don't worry lover, we will get there". OMG, I sound like a chick, and well I guess it's kind of like that. He slows his actions down a bit and returns to rubbing my arse cheeks, lower back and upper thighs, and I relax a bit, but remain really confused and still so excited. My thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of a warm gel going on and into my hole again. I was so excited that I had no hesitation although having someone's tongue and finger up there was as far as I had ever now gone. Then I felt something being inserted and I gasped as I realized he was putting..... "Just relax your muscles, Dan.... ungh," Jack advised as he adjusted his position on top of me. "Let my cock stretch your ass. It'll get used to my dick in a minute or two." "And...ohgawd... and then you'll pull it out?" I asked hopefully and in a hesitant state. "Well... mmm... then we'll really get to business." Replied Jack "What does that mean?" I reply "That means we're going to have some real fun!" "Are you... going to fuck me?" "Just relax." "I... I told you I'm not..." "Dan, take it easy and enjoy my Cock. I told you I'm not gay either. This is just healthy sexual fun okay?" "Okay I... ungh... I guess." I tried to remain calm under the circumstances. "UMPH!" Jack slammed his pelvis into my ass hard. His dick rammed all the way into my warm wet hole with a loud thud. "UNGH!" I felt the cock invade my insides again. The full length had just been pulled out and now it was back with a vengeance. "Jack, I think you might be too... UNGH!" Again the cock plundered my ass. "Oh SHUHweeeeeeet Gggod!" Jack exclaimed as he pulled his hips back, readying for another plunge into my straight ass. "Jack... huff... please just... UNGH!" Again the dick ploughed into me. Jack was actually long-dicking me. "UMPH!" "Please, Jack!" "UMPH!" "Oh, Jack!" "UMPH!" "I... huff... UNGH!"My eyes bulged almost out of their sockets with each powerful thrust. I found my body instinctively humping my pelvis back into Jack. Was I actually fucking back? There's no way my mind screamed inside! "Oh... yeah, Dan, that's it. Fuck back at me baby!" Jack was astonished at the speed he was turning me out. All he could think was this guy must be a real horny to turn out so quickly. "Oh Fuck!" I thought out loud. It wasn't my imagination, I was actually humping back. But it was okay. All I had to do was relax like Jack said. I tried to remain calm and tell myself everything was cool. I then felt him picking up the pace, Jacks balls smacking into my ass with loud WHACKS! Thrust after thrust. He continued to grunt and hump, "OOF!" huffed Jack. "UNGH!" I grunted. "OOF!" "UNGH!" "OOF... this is fun isn't it, Dan." said Jack "UNGH... yeah... I..." "OOF!" "UNGH... I didn't think I'd like..." "OOF!" "UNGH... sex with a man, but this feels strangely nice!" I had no idea what I was exposing myself to, By allowing Jack to have his way with me, I was opening doors to a sexual bliss only known by gay and bisexual men. For a horny, straight male, this may certainly become an addiction. I may not be able to control the urge or the want to be filled by cock. But I would be in denial for a long time to come, as I undoubtedly would try to suppress my desires. At that moment though, I was letting myself go. "OOF!" "UNGH... Jack, I'm not..." "OOF!" "UNGH... I'm not GAYooooooh!" my mouth formed a perfect "O" shape as Jack's dick hit my sweet spot in my ass. It was my prostate finally reacting to the ass pounding. My eyes crossed and my eye lids fluttered as the intense pleasure rippled through my body. Jack paused for a moment, leaving his thick dick on the special spot inside me. He reached behind me to support my back. He lifted me off the massage table and laid himself onto his own back, this time with me positioned on top. In doing so he exposed what I feared most. All the while, Jack kept his massive cock lodged in my ass. This guy could fuck! I felt like a meat skewer as Jack spun me around on his cock. When I was finally in place, I came into eye contact with with my own 7" cock which was raging hard. It stood proudly in the air, all stiff and precum oozing out of the tip. I had never felt my cock this hard. It was so hard it was almost painful. Then I felt Jack begin to buck his hips. Up and down, slowly at first but soon picking up his pace. I almost lost balance but reached down to steady myself by placing my hands on Jack’s chest. I found myself gyrating my hips, grinding my ass onto Jack's dick. I was stroking the length of his cock with my ass. Up and down. Up and down. We picked up our rhythm, again causing the massage table to rock and creak. My mind was still racing and the sensible part was screaming out... “He is turning you out!” That means turning me... turning me gay? That's what was happening here. Jack was going to fuck me gay. But was that possible? It sure looked like it. But if I turned gay, what about my girlfriend or even future girl relationships.... The part of my mind screaming slowly was being lost turned into gibberish in the sexual haze. As I fucked up and down on the thick meaty cock. I fucked so hard that my own cock slapped violently against Jack’s belly. Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Precum spattered all over Jack from my leaking cock. Jack was in sexual heaven. He was lying on his back, turning me out as I was riding his massive cock. How could Jack ask for anything more? I slammed my ass down hard with loud whumps. WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP! I rocked up and down, pleasuring Jack's dick with my ass. WHUMP! And then I could feel it. WHUMP! my own cock was about to explode. But how? WHUMP! I hadn't even touched it. It was then that I realized the moment Jack's tongue had entered my ass, I had lost control of my body. WHUMP! Faster and faster. My dick continued flopping around wildly, slapping his belly. SLAP! WHUMP! SLAP! WHUMP! SLAP! WHUMP! As I rode, I felt my balls filling. And then it happened. My cock began spewing cum all over the place as it flopped around. It spattered onto Jack, the floor, and a direct hit sprayed onto my chest..... I screamed out loud as my cock lost all control spewing my seed. "Oh, Dan," Jack called out uncontrollably. "I'm going to blow my seed!" "Oh, Jack!" as I looked back over my shoulder as I saw he was ramming hard into my ass one last time. WHAM! He gave this last thrust every last of his energy he had. His massive dick reaching its hilt as it spewed into my ass and knocking me forward. My body rolled forward and with that Jack’s cock sprung out of my ass with a loud popping sound as cum continued jetting out. The heavy smell of man sex filled the room. Jack’s 8 inch cock was still hard and spasmed as cum continued to dribble out of the tip, as he gazed upon my body and my leaking hole. What a hot fucking mess, as Jack gazed at my ass spread out before him. Jack climbed off of the massage table and put on his shorts, his cock tenting the crotch as he tried to tuck it in. I watched as Jack was walking away to the kitchen to get some water, as I tried pulling myself up and begun pulling up my shorts. Cum dripped down my thigh as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. My ass now felt so empty... and I felt horny. But I had just been fucked by a man and I just needed to just get away. I was straight right? The sexual haze begun to lift and I just wanted to hide under a rock. I quickly got the rest of my clothes on and headed out the door.... Jack called out that it was only sex and “I shall be seeing you very soon again” I would never, ever, be the same again.....
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I am thinking about vacationing in Greece next year. Does anyone have any recommendations in terms of locations (preferably on one of the islands but not necessarily), hotels/apartments etc. where an older gay guy wouldn't be out of place? Where you are likely to meet other men and not be surrounded by families or straight couples?
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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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This is my first ever story, I hope you enjoy! Please be gentle! I have an idea of where I am going with this story but would welcome your ideas and feedback. I will try and incorporate them into future posts. The Downfall of a Banker I know the working class hates us. I am one of the 1%. Those people you see vilified in the press and in the movies. Working for only a few hours a day to make millions a year. Only existing in the rarified world of the best restaurants, bars and hotels. I had been blessed with good looks. A sqaure jaw, flawless skin, blue eyes and raven black hair, 6 foot 3 inches in height. My muscles were honed to perfection in the gym. I am the ultimate version of masculinity. I had even featured on the cover of Men's Health as evidence you could balance, work, partying and gym. Obviously many women threw themselves at me. I had a different one in my bed most nights. However I never seemed to be able to keep a relationship. I worked at a well known investment bank in the city. Lived in a beautiful apartment in the best location and also had a small country estate to escape to when I needed to take a break from the city. You see not only did I make millions, but I also had inherited great wealth. I was born with the proverbial silver spoon. As such I had grown up with everyone respecting me and quite literally intimidated by my presence. I had greatly enjoyed using this power to get my way in the world. What I thought of as persuasion, most would consider bullying. However now I am in my early 30s and at the height of my power I am finding life less satisfying. The endless parties, sex and hangovers were starting to interest me less. The succession of models left me less sexually satisfied. I sometimes found I couldn't get a hard on. At first I started to blame the alcohol and partying. However one day on my way to work I passed a building site. What I saw there would ultimately change my life ... My usual driver had been ill and in a rare moment of compasion I had given him the morning off. I decided to rough it and use public transport. I am not sure what I was thinking that morning. Possibly I was also ill and not thinking clearly. As a result I had to walk the last part to work. Just around the corner of my bank there was a building site. It seemed to be run by skinheads. Their heads gleaming from where they had shaved their hair down to the scalp. I shuddered thinking about how I could never do that to my thick, glossy expensively cut hair which was treated and trimmed on a weekly basis. The skinheads bodies and necks were also covered in ugly tattoos, certainly I would never mare my beautifully soft, tanned and luminescent skin with such vulgar designs. They were dressed in filthy ripped clothes with Doc Martin boots laced up to their mid calfs. By contrast I was wearing a £5,000 tailored Jermyn Street blue suit, crisp handmade shirt with diamond studed cuff links, burgendy silk tie and handmade fine patent leather shoes. We could not be more different. At the same time my cock started to harden while listening to them talk in their coarse language. I couldn't understand what was happening to me. My erection was firmer then it had been in months and was clearly visible in my tightly tailored suit trousers. Why was this happening, I am so much better than them. Clearly my dithering and potent erection had not gone unnoticed by the skinhead gang. Not only were they the lowest scum of society but there were also clearly gay. They were leering at me and shouting profanities about what they wanted to do my perfect arse, ripping open my suit pants so they could fuck me hard. They kept saying they were going to bend me over an oil drum, tie my hands, use all my holes, spit on me and then leave me naked tied up on the site for all to use. My cock was leaking so much there was a wet patch on the front of my trousers. I could not understand my response. My brain could not compute my reaction at all. I'm straight!! Sure there had been fumbles with classmates at my boarding school, one night I even sucked a mate off, but quite frankly who hadn't!! Even if I was gay I would never even think of going with someone from a lower social class. I quickly gathered myself and ran the rest of the way to work. I spent the rest of the day totally distracted, thinking about what had happened that morning, imagining what would have happened if I had stayed. Even my boss noticed that I wasn't on planet Earth and sent me home. Thankfully it was Friday so I decided to immediately go out, meet friends, have a drink. Anything to basically distract me from what my mind kept flicking back to. The weekend turned into a blur of parties, champagne and women. I threw myself at every attractive women. I must have bedded a dozen over the course of the weekend. However I could not get an erection for any of them. They all left disappointed. I ofcourse blamed the huge amount of alcohol I had drunk. Many of them asked if I was gay, which I ofcourse denied, usually with a bouquet of profanities. However my nights were spent in tormemt. It didn't matter how much alcohol I drunk to make me pass out, every night I woke with the same image of me submitting to the un-named lead skinhead and his gang. Every night I would wake dripping in sweat as I ejaculated the biggest loads of my life. My silk boxers soaked through with my load, much larger than I had had with what I had thought was the most satisfying sex previously. I initially called in sick for the start of the week as I was not rested after my disjointed sleeping. However after a further day spent flipping between drunken oblivion and completely unsatifying sexual intercourse I decided I needed to return to the routine of work to try and re-establish my equilibrium. I think my subconscious was in charge when I asked my driver to drop me off a little distance from work. He was shocked but I brushed him aside saying I needed some fresh air before work. Ofcourse I had to go past the same building site. This time the skinhead foreman was on his own. It was extremely early in the morning. My eyes caught his. He just stared intensely at me. I found my patent leather shoes were walking onto the site. As I came nearer to him, he just grabbed hold of my silk tie and pulled me into the most penetrating kiss I have ever had. The whole world stopped as I accepted his tongue into my mouth. His filthy hands grabbed hold of me, with one he cupped the back of my head, grabbed my hair to ensure his tongue went deeper into my mouth. He remarked the only benefit of my longish hair was that it was easier for him to control me. His other hand grabbed my pert bottom through my suit trousers so that all of my body was brought into him. I could smell him, a wonderful rich aroma of sweat and hard work. Suddenly he pulled away, my mouth felt empty, I leaned in to kiss him again. He stepped back out of my reach. He said I could not have any more until I showed him respect. At this point he just spat on my forehead. I was in complete shock at this. Ordinarily I would find this positively one of the most disgusting things that could be done to me. However as his saliva slowly dripped down my face all I could think of that he was marking me and how lucky I was to have received something from me. My erections was so hard. He obviously noticed this. He demanded I show him respect. I think my brain just froze, I could not think what to do. Thankfully he thought for me as he slapped me on my cheek, leaving a dirty mark on my alabaster skin, however it did the trick of firing up my brain to realise he had grabbed hold of my tie, was dragging me forward and down so that I was forced to sink to my knees in the filth of the building site mud. With his hand back gripping my hair he forced my mouth down to his boots. I understood what was needed as I showed my subservience by kissing his boots. Once I had demonstrated this submission he directed my face, via his forceful grip, to his crotch, where I started to lick his crotch. He then opened his zip and let loose his manhood. For the first time since my adolesence I looked at another mans penis. The glans of his penis glistened with pre-cum. It looked so tempting that I had to taste it. In that moment I accpeted his cock into my mouth. What I lacked in experience I made up for in enthusiasm as I gave him head. Within a few minutes I could feel the tension mount. Sure enough he soon proceded to cum, withdrawing from my mouth and spurting his sperm all over my face and hair which he then proceded to rub all over with his penis. At that same moment I also came without touching myself at all. Something that had never happened while I was conscious. This was demonsrated to him by how soaking wet the groin of my suit trousers were, this was by far the biggest and most satisfying orgasm of my life. Just after that moment a peace descended on me. It was only disturbed when my master then demanded payment. I was initally afronted by this as I thought he had just played me for my money. I think my anger was also fuelled by the fact I also realised why so many of my female sex partners were so hurt after I dropped them as I in effect bought them for the night by taking them out for dinner and then plying them with expensive alcohol. I had viewed sex in the past as a transaction, however what had just occured was not a transaction for me, it was a life changing event. Therefore when he said he did not want my money I was actually relieved. However what he wanted was so much more than money could buy. He wanted my humility. He retrieved a knife fromt the belt of his jeans. I should have been frightened but for some reason I had implicit trust in him. He said that to prove my humility I needed to remove my outer skin of the corporate uniform. He slowly and delibrately cut off all of my clothes.He started with my tie, then proceeded to my suit jacket. He continued until everything was shredded including my underwear, shoes and socks. I just let him do it, I had never felt so at peace. I felt as though the weight of the world was being lifted off me. There I was in the middle of a building site being slowly and deliberately stripped. Anyone could look in. However as each piece of my fine clothing was being iretrievably stripped from me I felt more and more free, until I was left standing completely naked and re-born. Only at the end of this did I suddenly think of my exposure. Standing fully naked in the middle of a building site just as the city was starting to wake up. However my new master, as I viewed him, provided for my modesty in his own way. He gave me his own filthy jockstrap. I wore it with pride. He made it clear my first sacrifce was to demonstrate my humility, further sacrifices would be made on my way to the person that I desired and needed to become. Before letting me go he decided that with my arse on show it should be reddened. He bent me over his lap and sensuously spanked me, which lead to another erection. I therefore walked home with nearly the whole of my body, especially my pert red bottom & dripping erection, exposed. People were looking at me as though I was crazy, but I felt so grounded, literally my bare feet in contact with the the filthy pavement, that realsim made me feel serene.
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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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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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Cocksuckers, have you ever stared or glanced at the guy(s) cock next to you that was using the urinal? Have you ever been caught? If Yes, what have been the results? Me, I do it all of the time. Sometimes I get lucky enough that I get to take a guy into a toilet stall and Suck him Off, most of the time I get a disgusted look (Like they know I am a Cocksucker & think I'm despicable), or those rare occasions where I get punched right in the Nose while being called a faggot. One time I got hit so hard, I was knocked out, when I woke several minutes later, either the guy who knocked me out or someone else had wrote FAGGOT in permanent marker on my forehead:O
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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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Thomas was a 21 year old college student, straight, brown eyes, brown hair, at 6’foot and a tone build and a great dick that was 9 inches hard and a tight ass, he was ladies man. He liked to party with his friends, a little T here and there, and a little coke. Thomas liked to tease his next door neighbor, Barney, who at age 53, balding and over weight, would jerk off to Thomas showing off his naked body with the curtains open. Barney would love to get his dick Into Thomas’s ass, but couldn’t figure out how. Thomas would say to him. “You wish you could fuck my ass, but the best I’ll do his give you a peep show.” Barney had been wanting Thomas since he was 18, and when Thomas caught brim jerking off to him, while watching him fuck his then girlfriend, Linda. Thomas decided to not tell his parents, but give him a show every night, he felt sorry for the old man since his partner had died. Barney knew that Thomas liked to pnp with his friends, fucking girls while high. It was a great feeling. So Barney set up a trap to get Thomas in bed, and finally get his dick into that tight ass. Planning a pnp was easy, Barney knew that Thomas’s parents were going away on vacation, Barney told Thomas this was his way of saying “thank you”, for making an old man happy. Thomas was surprised and said “Thank you, Barney.” Once Saturday night came, Thomas was ready for action, and so was Barney. “Where are the the girls?” Thomas asked. “They’ll be here within the hour” “you want some T?” Barney new Thomas would, taking a hit from the pipe. Then passing it back to Barney, who also took a hit. “Come here, Thomas, I wanted to show you something.” Thomas took a few more hits of T and followed Barney into a room that had a sling in it. “Have you ever had sex in a sling?’ Barney asked. “No” Thomas said, checking it out. Seeing that there was rope to tie wrists and feet. “That’s going to be so hot.” Thomas said. Barney, under his breath “It sure will be.” “I have some coke, if you want to have a bump.” It actually was ketamine, it would hopefully, bring Thomas down from his high from the meth, and get him to fall asleep. Thomas took three bumps, feeling tired, Barney led him to the sling, and started to take off Thomas’s clothes, till he was naked, then tied his wrists and ankles up. With Thomas out like a light, Barney got undressed himself, grabbed poppers, and placed it under Thomas’s nose, to get him semi awake. “You’re awake, I see.” “There aren’t going to be any girls coming.” “But I’ll be cumming in that tight ass of yours.” “Teasing me for all these years, now it’s time to stop and give me what I want, what I deserve.” With that, Barney shoved his dick into poor Thomas’s mouth, and being that he couldn’t move to free himself, he sucked on Barney’s hard cock. “Teasing little slut you are.” “Keep sucking on daddy’s cock, until you have it all nice and wet.” Barney finally took his dick out of the young man’s mouth. Barney began eating out his ass, opening Thomas’s tight hole. “That’s nice a lose, daddy is going to give you what every tease deserves.” With that Barney pushed his 7inch hard cock into Thomas’s now non virgin ass. “Please stop Barney.” The young man begged. “No” Barney said with his thrusting in and out of Thomas’s ass. Thomas felt Barney starting to cum in him. “Ahhh” Barney said as he felt his dick twitching inside the young man’s ass, with his loads now deep inside Thomas, Barney decided to leave him tied up in the sling. “Thomas, you are no longer a teasing little bitch.” “You’re my bitch now.” “And I did invite some friends over to unload inside you.” With that Barney had invited four friends over, who were all over the age 50, giving Thomas T while they would hold the pipe and fuck him until they dropped their loads in him. Barney would blackmail Thomas into being a cumdump. Barney had also recorded their encounter, along with the four other guys. Who all would take turns fucking and cumming inside him.
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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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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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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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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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Does anyone know what happened to Sammy Case? I loved his videos back in the day and stumbled on some photos of him earlier and unsuccessfully tried to find newer vids of him. Internet rumors about him were that he had to leave porn due to "health reasons". Other rumors were that he moved to somewhere upstate in NY and lives with some guy who took him in and works as a waiter. Anyone know what the real deal is?
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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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