Monday, May 2, 2016

CLAW: Saturday Night Asylum Party

Cleveland—Saturday night, April, 2016

Saturday.  I took not just the morning off, but the afternoon as well.  I was tired from the long haul on Friday night.  But I also noticed that someone had caught their eyetooth on my cock.  It hadn’t broken the skin—but a deep purple blob of a blood blister was just under the skin on my very white shaft.  I gave him a rest.

I read, wrote and went to the vendor mart—though I did not need to buy anything.  It was very hard to resist going back to the gangbang boys of Friday afternoon, as I knew they were doing it again.  But I resisted.  Rested.  And was totally horned for a night of debauchery at FlexxxAsylum. 

It was to have started 30 minutes ago.  I deliberately arrived 30 minutes after the start time and I am still standing in line.  There are just a few of us waiting for the staff to find wrist bands which will identify our clothes bag, so they will be able to give us our belongings back at the end of the evening.  Eventually, they arrive.  I strip.  I am the first one to enter.  Now, I like watching the crowd gather at a play party, but this is ridiculous.  And for some reason, we aren’t allowed into the rest of the bathhouse yet.  I just have to wait, hanging out by the piss area—hoping for that first emptying of bladder before sex.

No takers.  I follow a hot looking pig into the real rest room but he begs off with the ‘Can’t piss in a mouth’ line.  A shame.

I do get one shaved headed, shortish daddy to give me a load of piss.  And that’s it for the night.  I feed two other bottom pigs rather regularly.  It’s not a wet crowd tonight.  At all.

But they do like to get fucked…

Some of the first people I see are two from Friday:  the Daddy and the twink who got off while I fucked him.  Daddy is sitting on a couch off to the side.  The boy is on all fours between the Daddy’s spread legs.  I go over.  My eyes ask permission to touch.  Daddy nods.  I kneel behind the young man and lightly touch his hole.  He shivers.  A groan is muffled by Daddy’s cock.  I finger him deftly, then bend to connect my tongue to his damp hole.  But it’s awkward.

“We should get him in the sling,” Daddy suggests.

“I was thinking of me under the rimseat, your boy sitting on my face so he could still suck your cock.”

“Please, let’s do that,” says the young man.

So we do.  The concrete floor is cold, but I don’t care.  It’s a glorious ass on my face.  I eat him forever.  And fuck him in the sling nearest the stage as the crowd slowly grows in the room.

The boy is taking everyone on.  I count 5 dicks in him before the hot pig who couldn’t give me piss arrives and asks for a turn.  He is the true biker type of leather man:  cropped hair, a long scraggly goatee and a ton of unrelated tats.  I can’t wait to watch him fuck the boy with his big dick.
Biker notices me watching him fuck.  “You like that?  You’d suck my cock right out of his hole, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Then do it.”

And so it begins.  I taste the boy’s hole, spit on the cock and he plunges back in. And again.

Then we switch.  I fuck, then offer the Biker my wet cock.

Biker gives me expert head.  And I shove back in.

The porn stars come out and do their show on the stage next to us.  I watch with half an eye— making sure that Aarin Asker, who’s up on the stage in the sling just above us, sees the size of my dick.

Nope, no audience members are invited up this year.  I concentrate on the boy and the Biker.  When the young man asks for a break, the Biker and I go off and do it with a man our own age on the other side of the stage near the crosses.  This time we find a host of men who want to clean our dicks.
We are in hog heaven, as we rotate the fucking again and again.


I make the rounds of the bathhouse.  I fuck a dirty bottom in the sling.  Everyone had been spotless the night before—I run into three bad clean outs tonight. 

I go back to the warehouse.  I can’t believe it.  Biker is in the sling and getting fucked.  I walk up.  A hot man in a harness and leather shorts is fucking him with a fairly average dick.  I watch and stroke.
“I wish I could take you,” the Biker says, looking up at me, “but you’d rip me apart.”

“I don’t need to fuck you if I can just eat out your hole when he’s done.”

“Sure thing.”

The man fucking him re-doubles his efforts—he likes what he’s hearing.  He shoots.

I clean him and felch Biker’s hole.  I also get the head of my cock in his open hole—but I don’t push too hard.  I go back to licking him out.


Much later.  I have had someone in every sling in the place both in the warehouse and the bathhouse proper.  All except the sling on the stage.

The Daddy finds me.  “He’s asking for you.  He wants to cum and go home.  While you are fucking him.”

I’m pleased he liked it so much last night. 

“How many loads did you take?” I ask him as I prepare to rim him again.

“I lost count.” 

“At least six,” his Dad says proudly.  Of course I oblige in fucking him until he’s covered with his own spunk.  I lick it up and stick some of it into his overused hole. 


Later yet.

I fuck a wonderful otter from Chicago I met ages ago when he was visiting friends of mine.  I fuck a load out of him, too.  I lap that up, and stick some of it in his over sensitive hole.

Still later.

A gaggle of very young men have arrived at the warehouse from the bathhouse—all towels/no hides.  I worry that they are tourists.  I’m wrong. Happily wrong.  A very tall young man is determined to take all three of their loads in the sling.  I watch each of them fuck him.  They cum one after the other.

The tall young man looks over at me.  “Do you want my hole, Sir?”

I nod.  I walk closer and kneel down to felch what his friends have shot up him.  On his ass are the words “Fuck Me.”  One word on each cheek.  I taste the loads in him.  It’s a mental thing—having watched three guys shoot them.  And the three guys are watching me now. 

“Daddy,” whispers the tall one, “I’m hungry, too.”  I stand up and snow ball him a huge amount of cum into his baby bird like mouth.

He grunts his appreciation.  I rim and felch some more.  I do it again.

I know where I’m ending my night.  I am going to add my seed to the mix.

I stand up. 

“Look at the size of that,” the first guy who shot in him says about my dick.

I push the head against the puffy hole.

“You’re bigger than the Black guy who bred him.”

My cock glides in.

“How many loads did he take before you three?” I ask.

My cock is so fucking wet I can’t stand it. 

“I’m not sure, how many Eric?”

But Eric isn’t answering—he’s concentrating on milking my cock.

“At least eight,” the first guy tells me.

“Plus you three, so I am going to make it an even dozen,” I announce to the room.

That makes Eric groan.

I fuck.  I pull out and eat.  I snowball the churned loads.

I fuck.  I eat.  I swallow.  The frothy slime is all mine this time.

I fuck.  I grab the top of the sling frame.  I empty into him.

I watch the look on Eric’s face.  He can feel every spasm of my cock.

I marinate in his hole.  I lean down and kiss him.  The first man to do so.

We are connected, mouth to mouth, sweaty chest to sweaty chest, cock to hole.

“Thank you,” I whisper into his ear.

“Thank you, Daddy…”

“Hungry, boy?”

He just nods.  I pull my dick out of his jizzed out hole, hunker down and begin to lick out my seed.  I so want him to taste my cum—mixed with all the other loads… 

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