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My boy fucks a POZ Methhead in New Orleans


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My boy got a promotion at work recently, possibly due to the fact that he took a client's raw POZ load. We decided to take a weekend off to celebrate and caught a cheap flight to New Orleans. We checked in to the hotel and got naked as soon as we were in the room. After rimming his hole good, I fucked my load deep into his guts. I knew we were going to have a long celebratory night and didn't want my boy lost on Bourbon Street without his hole naturally lubed up in case anything happened.

After a few pretty tame straight bars, we wound up at a really seedy gay bar, the kind with male strippers standing on the bar, with lots of flashes of cock for decent tippers. I'm sure you southern boys know the one I'm talking about. Anyway, we had already had a few drinks, and my boy was feeling frisky. The boys on the bar were all skinny, like meth skinny, but cute, and really working hard for their money, grooving against each other, and pulling down their undies to give the johns flashes of their unimpressive flaccid cocks. Emboldened by my own buzz, I told my boy, “You're so much hotter than these sluts. And you're not on tina so you can keep a hardon!” The fat middle-aged fucker sitting on the stool next to us seemed intrigued. He bet my boy $50 that he couldn't outshine the “professional” dancers. Had I been sober, I might not have egged my drunken slutty boy on.

After a shot or two of tequila, my boy joined the skinny meth heads on the bar. The rest of the patrons were hooting and hollering in his support. He climbed up onto the bar and started gyrating with the pros. One of the skinny dancers started grinding against my boy's crotch. My boy was shucking off his clothes as fast as he could, flinging his cute polo shirt and then his shorts across the room. By the time he was just down to his jockstrap, he was totally hard and his dick was pressing against the cloth, ready to be free. The dancer pulled his undies down and rubbed his ass against my boy's hard cock through his jock. I was so turned on. I reached down to my shorts to unzip my fly and free my own boner. I looked around and realized I wasn't the only patron sprouting wood. There must have been five or six other guys jerking off to the wild scene unfolding on the bar.

As their dirty grinding got more and more intense, I saw my boy's jock totally soaked with precum. Just then, the fat fucker next to me squatted down in front of me and swallowed my dick all the way and started to deepthroat me. The bartender leaned forward to get a better look, then smiled, and nodded his own approval. He leaned forward again and shouted over the music, “That dude with you?” “Yup,” I nodded. “You okay with him fucking POZ meth heads?” “I am now!” He grinned again, poured me another shot and leaned back to enjoy the scene. By then, my boy had pulled the jock aside and was rubbing his shiny cockhead against the dancer's hot pucker. This skinny kid was pulling apart his asscheeks as wide as possible, trying desperately to impale himself on my boy's pole. Lubed with precum and spit, I saw almost at my eye-level, my boy's rigid cock sink deeply into this meth head's raw hole.

I grabbed my cocksucker's head and spun him around, 1), so he could enjoy the scene, and 2), so I could pull down his pants and get some raw hole of my own to enjoy. All around us, the bar was devolving into chaos, with dudes fucking, sucking, and jerking the guys next to them or on top of them. As my boy was going to town on his own new friend's skinny ass, my guy was offering up his own wide round slutty hole. I spit on his hole once or twice and shoved up two fingers, getting him primed and ready. By the time I was balls deep, my boy was royally fucking this POZ dancer. I could see the dancer's limp tina dick bouncing around, and it made my mouth water. My dude was whimpering loudly as I plowed with long and deep strokes. I looked up in time to see my boy lurch forward planting his own questionable long-untested load deep in the dancer's skinny taught hole. I asked my guy if he wanted my load, and he had the nerve to say, “Oh yeah, cum on my face!” What a waste of good cum. So I pulled out and climbed up on the bar. With my boy's help, I planted my dick deep in the dancer's slack well-used hole. My fucker didn't seem to mind and was fisting his little dick enjoying the scene. I was going to town on the dancer's ass, when I saw that my boy had climbed down into the area behind the bar, and was bending over, now taking the bartender's dick. I couldn't see, but I assumed it was raw, just the way we like it. As I shot my load deep into the dancer's cummy guts, I saw the bartender flip my boy over onto the bar and stick it back in, leaning forward to tongue my boy's slutty mouth. I pulled out of the dancer's hole and hopped down into the bar area, squatting down to lick the bartender's raw cock as it pulled and pushed into my boy's slackening hole. I managed to squeeze two fingers into my boy's hole along side the bartender's bare cock. He seemed to like the added pressure, and shot ropes of fresh cum into my boy's hole, as they locked mouths in a passionate sloppy kiss.

By then, everyone at the bar who intended to fuck had already cum or was close to it. The meth head was lumbering around bug-eyed touching bodies and fingering holes. Once everything had died down a little, we went in search of our clothes. I managed to find everything of min except for my underwear, which I suspect were pocketed by my fat fucker as a souvenir. My boy found his sandals and shorts, but not his shirt. As we were leaving, my fat fucker shoved a $50 bill into my boy's hand.

We stumbled back to our hotel, and I was so turned on by what had happened, I planted my third load of the night deep in my boy's hole, working the bartender's cum deeper and deeper with each thrust. We decided to hit up that bar again the following night. Hot times in New Orleans.

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