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At long last, Friday had arrived. It had been a helluva week – deadlines and fire drills, and my boss breathing down my neck the whole time – so when I finally shut down my laptop, the relief swept over me like a tidal wave and my entire body sagged into my chair, spent.

As mentally exhausted as I was, a singular thought had run through my mind and kept me going all week: Friday night meant going to the bookstore and taking cock after cock until my mind went numb.

And it wasn’t just any bookstore. I had purposely chosen a remote job so I could choose the city to live in, rather than being tied to an office. The city I had selected – surprise! – happened to be home to one of the largest adult bookstores and men’s clubs, maybe in the country. It was massive, with a store that must have been 10,000 square feet, along with a huge arcade with more than 50 booths, a 100-seat theater that screened only the most recent porn films (mostly bareback), and three different public rooms. And that was just the first floor! Upstairs, a labyrinth of narrow corridors wound its way through a maze of small private rooms, each with a bed, small table and sink. At the end nearest the stairs and elevator, a large bathroom contained plenty of shower space and even a few enema wands for we bottoms to get and stay ready to take cock for as long as we wanted to be there.

I willed myself out of my chair and grabbed an energy drink off the desk as I headed to my bedroom. I slugged the entire can and then hopped in the shower, making sure to clean out and get myself spic-and-span inside and out. I hadn’t eaten in a day and a half, so there should be no reason to have to hit the showers at the club. I wanted to spend as much time in a popper fog, taking cocks and loads and not thinking about anything that had happened during the prior week.

The club was busy when I got there, and it wasn’t even five o’clock. A lot of guys tended to make quick stops on their way home – to take a load, or dump one – before heading home to their families. The place would be mostly empty by about six, but by eight o’clock guys would be streaming in, and the real fun would begin. As for me, I liked the quiet time. It was kind of like the calm before the storm, a chance to get situated and ready for all the fun to be had.

My usual M.O. was to grab a private room upstairs from the front desk, peel off my clothes and leave most of my things in a locker on the main floor, then explore. Often, I wore nothing more than my sneakers and a jock strap, my pre-lubed hole out and ready for any top who wanted to bend me over.

I meandered through the arcade area, watching the guys in business suits and wedding rings going in and out of the booths. One guy exited a booth wiping at his jacket lapel, spreading a big cum stain that I hoped for his sake would dry before he got home. Amateur.

Next I wandered into the theater. On the screen was a scrawny twink with a huge cock that was rock-hard. It flopped from side to side as he bounced up and down on not one, but two huge black cocks. True to form, there wasn’t a condom in sight. I found myself wondering if either of the tops he was riding might secretly be poz. Certainly they were tearing up his insides well enough that a little bug would be able to sneak in, if it happened to be seeping out in someone’s pre-cum.

As I watched the movie, I felt someone slide up behind me. Two big, meaty hands slipped under my arms to squeeze my nipples – which I fucking love – and I felt a hard cock poking into one of my ass cheeks. I reached behind me and rubbed the man’s stiff cock, then slid his zipper down, reached into his pants, and freed it. I estimated it to be about five or six inches, but it was girthy as fuck – a fat hog that would give me a healthy gape to start the evening. I lined up the tip to my hole and pushed back, feeling his hot breath on the back of my neck as he sighed with pleasure. His cock slid inside me with no trouble, and I relished the spasms of my sphincter as it attempted to swallow something so thick.

My anonymous friend began to fuck me in rhythm with the twink on the screen. Each time he impaled himself on those two huge shafts, the guy behind me pushed himself in balls deep. I bent over slightly and grabbed the door jamb for a little extra support. His heavy pants felt warm and moist on my neck as he worked himself closer to completion, and at last, with a gasp, he exploded deep inside me. Soon the pulses subsided and he slipped his cock out, zipping up and beating a hasty retreat. I never even turned around, just winked at one of the other regulars who had been looking on. He gave me a big grin in response. Knowing what he was into, I called him over with a slight nod. Obediently, he got on his knees behind me and I felt his tongue on my hole. I pushed the stranger’s load out into his hungry mouth, momentarily savoring the sensation of his tongue probing for the last few drops before I moved on.

The crowd was beginning to thin, and the first two public rooms proved to be empty. In the third, however, stood a huge bull of a man. He must have been at least six foot six with broad shoulders and massive biceps straining against the sleeves of a white t-shirt. His entire body seemed to be sculpted out of solid granite. His clean-shaven head and thick, long goatee gave him a slightly sinister air to add to the overall effect.

“Who the fuck is that?” I asked another regular who was standing nearby, admiring him.

“You don’t know who that is?” he asked incredulously. “The guy’s famous around here. They call him Pozzy Bear.”

The reference to a children’s show character seemed a bit ridiculous when applied to such a colossal figure, and I chuckled.

“It’s no joke,” he said. “That guy has the magic touch. Some say all he has to do is look at someone and they get HIV. You’re guaranteed poz if he unloads inside you. For real.”

I could see how the man’s stature might feed any number of myths about his prowess. Still, I found myself wondering how I could have missed meeting someone who evidently spent time in one of my favorite haunts. So, I decided to ask.

“What are you doing?” the other guy hissed as I strode toward the hulk. I ignored him.

“Hi,” I said, approaching Pozzy Bear. “I’m Jay.”

“Richard,” he replied. “But you can call me Pozzy Bear.”

Was Pozzy Bear a persona that perhaps he had cultivated for himself? I decided to probe.

“Where did that name come from?” I asked, maybe a little more directly than I had intended.

The hulking figure remained silent, instead scanning me with his eyes from head to foot. At length, he spoke. “Get a room and I’ll show you.”

Instantly my curiosity was piqued. “Got one,” I said, holding up the key I had fastened to the strap of my jock.

“Lead the way.”

He followed me up the stairs, and though he was always a few steps behind me. I made sure to wiggle my ass as a tease, but his eyes were level with my shoulder blades and I’m not even sure he noticed from that height.

We arrived at the room and stepped inside. A single dim lamp burned on the table, providing the perfect ambiance for an anonymous breeding session. I turned to face him and he was already removing his shirt. I have no idea how I didn’t see it through his shirt, but metal nipple piercings shone through a matt of rich, dark chest hair that nearly obscured biohazard tattoos that encircled each nipple.

He lowered his pants to reveal a scorpion tattooed on the front of his left hip. And hanging just to the right of it was one of the most massive cocks I have ever seen. Flaccid, it reached half-way down his thighs – perhaps ten or eleven inches – and was approximately the diameter of my wrist. I was so shocked that my body didn’t know how to react. My mouth began to salivate and my hole twitched, but in between my stomach had twisted itself into knots at the thought of that monster invading a hole that nature had intended as an exit.

“I need to hear you say you want it,” he said matter-of-factly.

I summoned up some courage and fought to keep the butterflies in my stomach at bay. “I want it,” I responded. “I want it!”

“No,” he replied firmly. “I need to hear the words.”

I realized what he meant. “I want your poz load.”

He nodded. “Better.”

He grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, then pushed me onto the bed like I was a rag doll. I was on my stomach, and before I could get up into the usual doggy-style position he held me down, one hand on my back as he straddled my legs with his knees. I heard the cap of a lube bottle click, and cold liquid running down the crack of my ass. He began rubbing the tip up and down, occasionally coming into contact with my pucker and sending shivers up my spine.

Then came the invasion that a part of me dreaded and part of me hungered for. He placed the tip in contact with my hole and pushed. I opened easily for him at first, and I felt the tip pop in with no issue. He continued to push relentlessly, that massive shaft stretching me wider than I had ever been stretched before. I felt a burning sensation as my anus and rectum rebelled against the invader, causing me to whimper in pain and try to pull away. But his hand held me firmly in place, while he continued pushing his way into my guts with a steady pressure.

Soon the tip of his cock had arrived at my second hole, but rather than slowing he kept pushing his way inside. By now I was grasping the bedsheet so tightly that I was on the verge of tearing it to shreds, and my mouth had clamped down on the thin, dusty pillow to keep from screaming. Still, he kept pushing. It was as though he was trying to fuck my very soul.

At last the pressure eased, and I felt his balls touching mine. I had heard the term “rearrange my guts” before, and had even used it myself, but absolutely nothing I had ever experienced before compared to what was happening to me in that moment.

Without a sound, Richard – Pozzy Bear – began to rhythmically fuck my ass. The burning sensation continued and even intensified as he slid in and out over and over. Then, without warning, he pulled completely out! In an instant I went from the fullest I had ever been, to empty and desperate to feel him inside me again.

I couldn’t believe my ears as I heard myself say, “Put it back in, please!”

The lube bottle cap snapped again, and he drizzled a generous amount into my gaping hole. He took a moment to rub some on the tree trunk he was using to fuck me, then slid back inside me – all the way, and very quickly. My body bucked involuntarily, but his steady hand again held me in place, forcing me to endure the onslaught.

I adjusted more quickly to his presence inside me this second time, no doubt aided by the copious amount of lube he had used. Placing one hand on the bed on either side of me, he locked his legs into mine and pressed more of his weight down onto my back, and proceeded to jackhammer my hole relentlessly. That massive tool slid in and out, in and out, his solid, muscular stomach slapping against my back each time it did. My body had finally adjusted to his size, and I was enjoying his ministrations. The pre-cum ran from my cock and soaked the sheet beneath me. I even found myself bucking back to meet his thrusts, taking him deep and hard.

Finally, he growled in my ear, “I’m gonna poz you, slut.”

“Do it!” I cried out. “Poz me! Give me your poz load!”

With an animalistic howl he drove his hips against mine and held still, pumping his load deeper inside me than anyone had ever been before. For a few moments he remained motionless, then collapsed on top of me, crushing me into the mattress. I could barely breathe, but I knew that when he moved that magnificent cock would slip out of me, and that was something I wanted to avoid for as long as I could, so I stayed like that.

After a few minutes of shallow breathing, I felt him stir and lift his bulk off me then, disappointingly, his cock slid out. A cold trail of cum and lube dribbled down my balls, adding to the wetness of the sheet caused by my pre-cum.

“You should see some positive results within a month or so,” he said as he got dressed. “Nice hole. Too bad I probably ruined you for any other cock.”

With that, he slipped out the door, leaving it open behind him. I turned and saw several faces staring in from the hall. Front and center was the regular from downstairs who had told me about Pozzy Bear.

“Bet you thought that what I told you downstairs was a myth,” he said with a smirk, “when in fact, that man is a legend!”

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Posted

I'd love to meet a big black bear like him at the Bathhouse and he tells me he is pozzing me as he cums deep in my neg unprotected ass

  • 2 weeks later...
  • 1 month later...
Posted

What an amazing and horny story and I hope there's more chapters to follow.

Pozzy bear certainly knows how to fuck and give his prize seed to those that are then truly fucked 

Posted

Years ago, at Man’s Country in Chicago, I hooked up with a guy who was a big muscular brute. I have no idea his status. And his dick was a healthy eight or 9 inches. I was totally intimidated by him and wasn’t sure he would respond. But we spend at least an hour in my room before he went on, in search of his next conquest.

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