I did nothing else during my trip to Canada. I was sated. I came home just in time to get back in the car and go to the Chicago Piss Party. I had talked to the organizers and once again I took the sling. I set it up in the same back corner of the bar in which the party is held. And it proved to be the only party of the year that had barely any bottoms in attendance…
“Hey! You brought it.” It’s one of my favorite bottoms walking towards me from the bar. He’s a good head shorter than I am and almost 15 years younger. He is wearing a neoprene singlet (black and yellow, of course) that has no ass. His dark reddish hair is cut shorter than I remember. He gives me a kiss and squeezes the bulge of my yellow jock. “You want to fuck me?”
I nod. He takes a long swig of his beer and puts the cup on the oil drum that serves as a table next to the sling. He is up and in it, before I can offer to help. His legs snake up and out—and he’s expertly into the stirrups. I kneel on the floor which this early in the evening is dry. He reaches down and pulls his cheeks even farther apart than the natural spread the sling provides. My tongue connects with his pink, moist hole.
“You have the best tongue,” he moans. “Eat me out.”
His words make me probe him deeper, harder and faster. I bury myself between his full ass cheeks. It’s at that moment that I feel someone pissing on my back. I pull back slightly and the pale yellow stream arcs up and hits the top of the boy’s ass crack. The fluid sluices down between his cheeks and onto my tongue. I swallow noisily and occasionally poke some into the now wet hole. As the stream subsides, I stand up and smile at the pisser—a man I recognize from parties past. I insert my cock. The bottom’s hand flexes out—telling me to slow my assault. I do. As soon as I see it in his eyes, I slide the rest of the way home.
He looks up at me and grins. “Fuck me hard.”
I do. A short Hispanic man comes over, stroking. “You want me to piss him?”
“Sure. Right on my dick.”
The guy keeps stroking his half hard cock. With a deft movement, he peels back his long foreskin, and a stream of piss shoots out. His aim is perfect—right on my cock. I’m fucking it into his ass and splashing it up against his cheeks. The super hotness of the liquid feels wonderful to both of us.
And the stream goes on and on. I can’t believe how full his bladder must have been.
Eventually, it winds down and he shuffles away. I pull out, bending to lick some of the hot piss off his ass cheeks. I wring out the hairs of the red haired boy’s ass with my tongue and swallow it all down. My dick is raging hard. This only makes me want to fuck him all over again…
Rod arrives. He is half of my favorite couple in Chicago—the couple who throw the best New Year’s Eve parties. We hug by the end of the bar. We have lots to catch up on since I saw him in May. As I’m telling him about CumUnion, I feel his hand on my shoulder pressing me down.
“Here you go…”
Rod puts the big head of his cock into my mouth. Just in time. He unleashes a cascade of piss down my throat. I swallow and gulp, and for a moment, wonder if I can take it all. I am stroking my cock—fast and hard. Finally, his flow ebbs and I can breathe again. I stand up. I reach for Rod’s pale white ass.
“You better wait for that until you get to our house tonight.”
“Sure,” I agree. “Thanks for letting me stay.”
“You know Brice is home messaging guys for a small group after this?”
“Well, go use that thing on some lucky asshole.” And Rod playfully pushes me towards the back corner.
I can’t get anyone else in the sling. When I’m across the room, I notice one other couple using it, appreciatively. I go over and piss on the fucker’s cock, just like the Hispanic had on mine.
“I don’t care if guys watch me—but I don’t want to see everyone watching me get fucked in the sling.” I am talking to the beefy corporate type who I love to fuck at this party. He surprised me a couple of years ago by telling me he is an avid reader of the blog.
“Okay. Next time I’ll have a bandanna to tie around your eyes. Would that do it?”
He agrees it would. I run my hand over his hairy chest—a luxurious mat of fur—the kind I remember on my favorite gym teacher from my middle school years and so many men from an earlier era.
“But you still want my cock?”
“Are you crazy?”
I sit on the ledge, partially hidden by the darkness at edge of the room. He kneels and sucks me down, his tongue swirling. And he pays attention to my balls—balls which are so often forgotten by guys who love big dick. He spits on my cock one last time. He stands and turns and sits on me in one smooth glide into place. My hands reach around and work his furry pecs, concentrating on his hard nipples. His ass is milking me like crazy. I have to think of something non-sexual or I’ll shoot.
“You want me to piss him, too?” It’s the Hispanic man again. He doesn’t wait for a reply this time. He takes aim at the man’s crotch bouncing on my cock. He pisses. It starts with a big blat of pale yellow liquid and just keeps getting stronger and stronger. He hoses us down. The man on me is moaning. I touch his hard cock, but he brushes my hand away. The piss stream is covering our crotches and running down our legs.
I turn away from the Hispanic. Two guys on the other side of us start to add their piss to our crotches. We are in the middle of a piss fountain. A guy who’s been jerking behind the Hispanic, steps in. He shoots his cum on that great matted fur chest in five quick bursts.
The three pissers simply raise their various piss streams and wash it all away…
(Next post—the after party at Rod and Brice’s)