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Corrupting a Little Bro at the Bathhouse


rawrawraw76

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Guest takingdeepanal
17 minutes ago, drscorpio said:

Moderator's Note: Could you please give us a sentence or two about why you are bumping a post. You are burying newer posts without giving us any new information

I’ll try to remember to do that in future. Sorry. 

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Absolutely fucking hot slam chemsex story. Would love to learn how it was planned to go. Understanding that author might not finish it someone else could offer their version. 

And while it sounds great fantasy to experience I'm not sure I'd like for anyone for real. Enact as role play, make into porn, I'd say yes to that. But that's me. 

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11 minutes ago, RyanO said:

Wow this made me so hard. We need part 2 badly. I really wanna go to my first bathhouse after reading that 

Nevermind just read part 2 and I came lol

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On 8/20/2013 at 1:24 PM, rawrawraw76 said:

PART 1

My name’s Sloan. I’m 35, white, hairy, and hung. My dick is a fat, veiny hole-wrecker, and I love to show it off in public. I keep my body in the best shape possible—rock-hard six-pack, muscular chest, beefy legs.

post-25314-140864347517_thumb.jpg

I’m really good at luring younger guys into giving up their holes. There’s something about my look, about my square jaw and intense brown eyes and high-and-tight crew cut. Something that makes me look trustworthy, wholesome. The good guy. The older brother. The mentor.

But see, I’m not the good guy. In fact, I’m one evil motherfucker. My favorite hobby is seducing, chemming, and corrupting college dudes, pushing their limits, taking their fantasies to the dark side, and pozzing their sweet smooth hungry holes—pounding them raw and leaving them dripping with multiple loads of unmedicated virus. And the funny thing is this: no matter how much they protest at one time or another, no matter how much they claim that they don’t want to be barebacked and gang-bred and pimped out, they always end up hungry and begging for more of that sweet seed deep in their guts.

So yeah: I guess you could say that I’ve pozzed a lot of boys, destroyed a lot of unsuspecting holes, initiated a lot of slampigs. But last weekend—well, last weekend was the hottest transformation I’ve seen yet.

My favorite place to hunt for victims is about a block away from a bathhouse here in Berkeley. I watch for a certain kind of guy: 18 or 19, an undergrad just getting his first taste of freedom away from the parents, well-built, preppy. He might walk hesitantly toward the entrance, then stop to reconsider, then start walking back to his car, then decide to go into the bathhouse after all. That’s when I intercept him. I emerge from the shadows to strike up a conversation—and with any luck, change his life forever.

Last weekend, I was in my usual spot. It was a warm August night, and I was wearing a pair of mesh gym shorts with no underwear, a tight wife beater to show off my hairy chest, and a ballcap. I’d taken a dick pill about 30 minutes earlier, so my cock was forming a huge tent in my shorts as I anticipated my next conquest.

That’s when the boy got out of his car. He looked both ways down the street—a little lost, I guess—then spotted the bathhouse entrance. Clearly a first-timer, I thought. As he walked closer to me, I began to make out his features: short dark-brown hair, a handsomely boyish face with a nice strong jawline, a fucking adorable nose, and a pair of big, dark, expressive eyes that revealed both his anxiety and his excitement. He was in a pair of khaki shorts and a tight black tank top, so I got a pretty good look at his sweet little jock body, his muscular calves, and his deeply tanned, sinewy arms that showed evidence of some serious time at the gym.

He stopped in the middle of the street. He wavered. He almost turned around and went back to his car. But he kept walking toward the entrance—and that’s when I spoke up.

“Hey, buddy,” I said, stepping onto the sidewalk, my dick still at attention. That startled him. But as he squinted to look at me in the semi-darkness, his fear turned to relief. I was obviously the kind of guy he was hoping to find here. His eyes widened as they traveled the length of my body, from my face to my torso to the outline of my cock. “Hey there,” he answered in a surprisingly deep voice. “Whatcha doin’?”

I looked down at my dick. “Oh, just hanging,” I said with an evil grin, giving my cock a giant twitch. He almost gasped to see it jump like that -- and then he couldn’t stop staring. I stepped back into the shadows and beckoned him to follow me. He obeyed as if in a trance, his whole body shivering as he approached. “What’s your name, buddy?”

“Conrad,” he said, but he didn’t look at me. He was still staring at my dick. I made it twitch again, and this time he almost laughed in total fascination. “I’m Sloan,” I said. “How old are you, Conrad?”

“I just turned 18 last week,” he replied. “I’m starting at Berkeley this fall. Most people in my class are about a year older—I skipped a grade.”

“18 is a good age,” I managed to say, my mind suddenly filled with images of chemming and pozzing this perfect 18-year-old boy. My cock grew harder, and I took a tiny step closer to him. “By the way, Conrad, it’s OK to look at my dick. Really. This cock likes attention. In fact, you can even touch it if you want.”

He gave me a funny look, as if he hadn’t heard me correctly. I smiled back, gripping my dick in my hand, then released it by slapping it against my thigh. Another gasp from Conrad. After a moment of hesitation, he reached down to touch the outline of my dick, his hands visibly shaking as he grabbed a handful of mesh and cock. After a moment or two of running his hand along the length of my poz shaft, he looked up at me with a dazed kind of desire.

“No, no, Conrad,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s not what I meant.” I took his hand in one of my hands. With my other hand, I pulled the elastic of my shorts away from my waistline. Then I slowly guided him down my treasure trail until he could feel the touch and girth and weight of my cock. It was throbbing with heat, its surface slightly sticky from the steady stream of precum dripping from my mushroom head—as if my poz dick were drooling at the thought of devouring this beautiful, trusting boy. He grabbed onto the dick that would break him in half and poz him deep—and his eyes fluttered in total bliss. I laughed and said: “You like that dick, huh?”

He nodded eagerly. I placed my hand on the small of his back and drew him closer to me. He smelled like all good 18-year-old boys should: a combination of cheap cologne, sweat, and chewing gum. I imagined what his crotch might smell like, all musky with dried cum and piss and hormones. As our faces hovered just a few inches apart, I reached my hand down the back of his shorts to feel a perfectly round jockbutt.

He trembled again. I whispered in his ear: “Are you looking for a big bro tonight?” He nodded, and I drew him closer, letting him feel the heat radiating off my body. He sighed in contentment as he nuzzled my furry chest. Then I whispered in his ear again: “Do you want your big bro to fuck you, Conrad?”

“Yes, please,” he said, lifting up his head to look me directly in the eyes. I smiled and mussed his hair. “Oh, poor lil’ bro,” I said. “Didn’t anybody ever fuck you before?” He nodded and shrugged. “Yeah,” he said. “Two different guys. But they were my age and didn’t really know what they were doing. I was kinda hoping that I’d find somebody here at the bathhouse who could—um—”

“Break you in?” He buried his face in my chest again, mumbling “yes,” and I ran my hands gently up and down his spine, feeling the strength of his back muscles, imagining what he would look like on all fours, back arched, ass in the air, begging for loads. My hands returned to massaging his beefy little jockbutt, and he let out a deep, shaky moan. “I would be so honored to break you in, little bro. I want to show you how a man should fuck a boy, and how a boy should surrender his hole to a man. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” he said again. His arms wrapped a little tighter around my torso, and I gently pushed my cock against his body. My throbbing poz shaft thrummed next to the firm muscles of his stomach. He exhaled a long, slow breath, as if melting into me. And at that moment, I smiled to myself and thought: This boy is fucking mine.

I pointed down the street. “I live about two blocks that way,” I said. “Wanna come back to my place, maybe smoke some pot, fool around a little? We can go to the bathhouse later, if you decide you’re ready for it.”

“Sure,” he said, giving me the cutest fucking grin. And right at that moment, seeing his innocence and sweetness and eagerness to please, my dick twitched even harder than before, and the head of my cock released a small geyser of toxic precum. With any luck, I thought to myself, I’ll get to see that same giant grin on his face in just a few hours—right about the time he’s spreading his slammed-up jockboy hole to get pounded and knocked up by poz cock.

I pointed him in the direction of my house. He walked about a half-step ahead of me, his sweet bubble butt bouncing beneath those gym shorts as my cock followed just a few inches behind.

The poor kid didn’t know it yet, but he was as good as poz. I knew exactly what to do. Everything was prepared for my victim’s arrival. And within the next hour, I planned to be blasting my potent strain deep inside this sweet 18-year-old fagboy’s chemmed-up cumhole.

MORE SOON…

Where were you when I was 18 needing my big brother? I hope you slam him with more than your big bro cock. 

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