The Wanna Be and the Real Thing

 Near Home—January, 2026

 

The cold winter in Michigan settled in and got colder yet by the middle of the month.  It was keeping me home and I was going a little stir crazy.  The only time I felt truly warm was as I did the dinner dishes.  I thought I’d curl up in my reading chair for the evening, but as I was drying my hands, I realized I could not spend one more night in my study.   I was going out. 

I knew that it would likely be slim pickings at the bookstore—but it was a Saturday night.  Maybe there would be some others who were feeling the need to get out, too…

 

The clerk is surprised to see me.  I pay, make small talk about the cold.  He assures me the heat is on in the theatre.  I go in.  Two people are here.  One man is on his phone.  He looks familiar, but I know he’s not a regular.  The other is a young woman.  No, I’m wrong.  It is a guy, but a very girly guy who is the most passable cross dresser I’ve ever see here.  She is checking her phone, too, but is very aware of me.  She’s in tall boots and slacks with a rather filmy blouse.  Her hair is long and dark blonde.

I sit between the two of them, unzip and pull out my cock.  Suddenly, she is way more interested in my dick than her phone.    Though she is at pains to hide it, she carefully adjusts her cock which has erected at the sight of mine, under the folds of the slacks.

I stroke.

She all but drools.

The other guy thumbs through his phone.

I look over at her.  She nods and gets up.  She kneels in front of me and begins to suck.  I wish I could say it was good.  But it was adequate at best.  I can’t believe that she’d had many men in her mouth.  There was no tongue work.  Nothing but a bobbing head. 

She rocks back on her heels (literally.)   She can’t understand why I am not busting in her mouth.  “Don’t you like it?”  she whisperers in a husky contralto. 

I tell her it takes more than a mouth to get me off.

She stands up and goes back to her phone.

I watch the video.

The others watch their phones.

Suddenly, she is up and moves to a chair out of my view, behind me near the gay screen.  I expect to hear the click of her phone, but I don’t.  I wait, then look back.  She’s kneeling on the seat of the chair, her bare ass arched and inviting.  I stand up and go back.  I kneel and begin rimming this hot hairless butt.  It is the last thing she is expecting.  Her groans of pleasure fill the tiny room.  As I tongue her hole, I have noted balls and a tiny dripping cock.  I wipe my fingers over the head and coat her hole with her precum.  When my tongue drills it into her, she groans as if I have made her every fantasy come true.  Of course, I do it again.

I stand up.  My cock slaps her hole.  “You want me inside you?” I whisper.

“Fuck me raw.  I want your cum.”

I grease up a little more and work myself into her.  I have opened her up nicely.  She is panting and begging for it, from the moment I bottom out inside her.  I build slowly into a brutal fuck.  She tries not to touch her dick, but she can’t help herself.  Way too fast, she shoots on the chair seat, causing her tight ass to contract.  I have rarely felt so tight a hole—and my cock responds by lubing it up with a mini load of cum.  I don’t feel like I’ve fully shot, but she’s going to take some sperm home with her.

I pull out.  My cock is pristine.  I offer it to her to clean, but that is not in her playbook.  I go rinse off and piss.  She’s gone by the time I come out…

*

I am still hard.  I jerk.  The guy puts down his phone.  He comes over.  “May I?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer but goes to his knees.  I sigh.  This is the mouth I need.  Warm, lots of spit, and with an exploring tongue.    I lean back and let him go to work.  His deepthroating is effortless.   Just a man who has loved dick in his mouth for 30-some years.

He finds my balls and spends a lot of time on them.  This is just what I need if I’m going to shoot again.  And I think I actually am.

He pulls off the wet sack.  “Magnificent piece of man meat,” he sighs.  He goes fully down on my shaft.

“Fuck, man, I hope you want my load…”

He grunts an enthusiastic affirmative around my buried flesh.  He works his tongue back up and works exclusively on my piss slit and glans.  It’s heaven.

“Damn…I can’t believe you got me here so fast….”  And I am ready.  More than ready to give him everything that’s left in my balls.  I shoot.  Spurt and spurt.  He loves clean up as much as I do.  He doesn’t waste a drop…

Letting the Jizz Flow

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Sick of the Cold; Sick with the Flu

 

Sick of the Cold; Sick with the Flu

 

Temperatures in Michigan have been relentlessly cold.  And to top it off, I am just recovering from the flu.  I am so tired…I know I can’t put words together today.  But a few hot pics will help all of us feel warmer…

"Breed Your Boy, Daddy"

 My Playroom—January, 2026

My play with Kane and his hairy butt was all about the thrill of the hunt—wanting to incorporate new men in our play.  Two days later, it was just the opposite.  Sawyer, once known on here as Fist Guy, came south to the playroom.  The vibe was totally different—two guys wanting to make the other feel great.  It was hot buddy sex…

 

I sprawl on the bed.  Sawyer kneels between my splayed legs.  He inhales the scent of my well-used jock.  He sighs.  He begins to lick it and use his teeth to pull the fabric away from my cock and balls.  As he pulls, my cock erects, slapping his nose.  He instantly swallows me down.  He stays there.  His tongue comes out and he can actually lick my balls with my shaft in his throat.

He pulls off me and now licks my balls in a more traditional way.  He gets them very wet, then he lifts them and tongues under them.  His tongue traces along my cockring.  I squirm.  He knows this is my hot spot.  He spends a long time there.  I occasionally stroke my dick, letting my precum drool out of it.

“Sit on my face.”

Sawyer grins and stands up.  I move slightly down the bed, dragging a pillow with me.  He steps up, straddling my chest.  He lowers his ass to my open mouth.  It’s his turn to moan and squirm.  I eat his him out.  I love that I am doing this before the first fuck and there is barely a gape.  I poke and prod and burrow into his talented hole.

We move to the bench.  I take two minutes to raise the middle section for him as he likes the support.  I eat his ass again as I slather up my cock.  I stand and push in.  All of me.  I bottom out and hold for a long moment.  Sawyer pants and tells me how good it feels.  I begin to fuck.  He feels great on my cock.  I pull out and have him taste all his juices.  He cleans me thoroughly before I go back inside him.  His hole has already opened up.  The Ballistic Butt Bomb is in reach on the shelf to my right.  I grab it and twirl the stainless-steel head in the coconut oil—all while keeping the fuck going.

I pull out.  I push the BBB into his with a twirling motion.  Sawyer groans.  I get the long handle of the toy under my balls and push my cock back into him.  It feels terrific.  I have tightened him right down again.  I also love the rub of the long handle on my balls.  Eventually, I pull out, remove the toy and lick his now open hole.

Delicious.

We move to the sling.   I eat him out—and fuck him.  He is wide open now, so I slip the ass grommet over my turgid dick and grease it up.  I push into him.  Sawyer’s eyes go wide as he feels the added girth.  I fuck him hard.  Then slow.  Now, standing still and pulling the sling onto my cock and pushing it off me.

I pull out.  I begin stretching him with an eight-finger lateral stretch.  He encourages me.  Soon, my left-hand slips inside him.  I do a very slow turn and work it out.  

I use the clear dildo with the black handle just to give my dick a rest.  We move quickly to the two-tier butt plug my brother gave me ages ago.  I know Sawyer who can take it.  Not everyone can.  It slips home—making him pant. 

I go back to my left hand.  Slowly working myself into him once more.  This time I slide my cock down my wrist and double fuck him with an open hand inside him and my cock going through my fingers.  He can’t get enough of this.  I do it again and again.

Now I do it with my right hand and dick, but that never seems to line up as easily.  I make it inside him for the double fuck—but it’s uncomfortable.  I go back to the left…

*

I have spent a long time now just using my hands on him.  Alternating them.  Back and forth.  We both know that it’s time to wind things up.  My cock has gone down with the concentration of being careful with my fists, but it’s an easy solution to get it hard again.  I wipe off the excess lube and bury my face in his used hole.

Bingo.

I am more than ready.  I stand up and thrust inside Sawyer for one last time.  I fuck him.  Hard.

“You know I want your load!”

I nod.

I speed up a little—then slow.  It actually feels better when I’m not so frenzied.  I keep to the slower pace.  “So close,” I murmur.

“Breed your boy, Daddy.”

And I’m there.  I shoot and shoot…

Kane's Hairy Ass Makes Me Proud

 Near Home—January, 2026

When you are out cruising, sometimes you can bump into the right people and everything is amazing.  Sometimes it is just one (or two) to make for a good time.  But there are times when it is absolutely awful. 

Thursday afternoon has been a good day for me at my local bookstore.  I often bumped into Cute College Boy on that day. But on the second Thursday of January, there was no one there with who I wanted to play—and no one who wanted to play with me.

There was a decent looking guy jerking when I arrived.  He stopped moments later and fell asleep.  There was an older man who had on a children’s diaper—and he was showing it off proudly.  A super hot Black guy came in, took one look at us and left.  The last man in the room was also jerking, but I knew that he was a ‘don’t touch me’ guy.

I stayed maybe 30 minutes and it never got better.  Home I went.

 

Lansing—January, 2026

But for my Saturday night, just two days later, everything was right.  Kane, the hairy young man I met at the house party orgy some time back, wanted to go the big Lansing playspace.  I loved that idea, especially when he told me he was in the mood to be whored out again.  We agreed on a time and I arrived at the venue a little early.  Men were milling around and little play was happening.  Kane arrived—and we changed that…

 

I take Kane back near the sling and fuckbench.  I sit on the couch in front of the gloryhole booths and open my fly.  Probably 20 guys are now watching Kane go down on my hard cock.  There are two chairs near the couch, each has a man openly masturbating to us.  Kane stops for just a second so he can open his own fly.  His thick, curved cock springs out and he fists it as he continues to suck me.

One of the guys in the chairs is a thick bear of a man—not remotely sloppy, but big—ex-football type.  He makes eye contact with me.  I nod and pat the sofa seat to the left of me.  He comes over, pushes his jeans to his ankles and strokes.  It’s not a big cock—but I love the contrast as I nudge Kane over to service the guy.  He grins up at me before he crawls over and swallows down the guy’s dick.  I watch for a moment, then get behind Kane and pull his pants off his ass.  I hunker down and begin licking his hairy crack as he sucks the stranger.

“Tell me I can fuck him,” groans the bear.  I come up and nod.  The three of us go to the fuck bench.  It is inside a cage.  You can close the cage door for privacy, but I leave it wide open.  Kane is on the very hard bench, his fabulous ass on display.  Guys stand on the outside of the cage and ogle him.  Half the guys are stroking.  I hand my lube to the bear and he greases up and slide in.

“Holy fuck!” he groans. 

He begins pounding into Kane.  He won’t last long at this rate.  In moments he is howling out his orgasm.  He stays inside Kane to marinate for a moment, then pulls out.  He sees me on my knees and watches and as I taste his load leaking from Kane’s ass.

Load One.

We move to the much more comfortable sling.  I fuck Kane, using the Bear’s cum for lube.  I can’t help but groan.

There is a white guy in his fifties, jerking to us.  He comes into the cage.  I ask if he wants to go next.  He wants to suck Kane’s hard, dripping dick.  We let him for a moment.  Then he steps back and jerks to the next fuck.

A real boy-next-door guy asks if he can take a turn.  He’s white, late 30’s and hot.  I pull out and he slides right in.  I watch the look of sheer joy on his face.  He fucks a couple of strokes and pulls out.  “Don’t want to shoot yet—but I will.”

I go back up Kane, fucking him.  Slow and deliberate.  The stroker moves in and uses Kane’s poppers without asking.  He suddenly shoots all over Kane’s chest.  I mop it up with my fingers and coat my cock with copious load.  I fuck the seed into him.  (The spectators are abuzz with that move.)  I fuck.  And pull out and lick his ass clean of stray cum.

Load Two.

Boy-next-door is back.  He fucks a few strokes and once again pulls out, right on the edge of shooting.  He disappears.  I fuck Kane once more.

The bear who started it all is watching us.  He tells a tall guy he needs to fuck Kane.  I hear it and nod to him.  He makes towards the cage door, but Boy-Next-Door is back.  He sinks into Kane’s wet ass with a sigh.

“Give it to me, man,” Kane mumbles.  The slight encouragement sends BND over the edge.  He delivers a massive load into Kane.  He even allows me to clean his cock as he pulls out.  I clean up Kane’s swelling ass lips.  That’s when I sense how much seed is in the young man.

Load Three.

The tall, built guy comes into the cage.  I stand up.  “I want to see your cock go into him first,” Tall Guy murmurs.  I am happy to oblige.  I tell him Kane’s hole is incredibly creamy.  He finally taps me on the shoulder, ready to feel it for himself.  He glides in.  It’s the biggest dick of the night—that isn’t mine—and Kane’s eyes get big.

“You weren’t kidding,” the new fucker gasps. “So fuckin’ wet.”

He fucks a few more strokes.  Kane bears down, squeezing the big dick railing him.  He makes the guy give him load number four.  Tall and Built understands my need to clean his cock.  He lets me.  I am so turned-on, I stand up and thrust into Kane.

I fuck him hard.  Kane stops touching his dick.  I keep fucking—and in another few moments he has a hand free orgasm.  All over that hot, hairy chest.  I bend to lick it up, with my dick still inside him.

Kane asks for a break.

He cleans up a little.   We wander.

“I think I can still take your load,” he tells me.  He doesn’t want it so public.  We try fucking in a GH booth, but it’s awkward.

“Let’s go back to the sling, but I’ll close the door so no one else can come in.”

That works.  We have a few voyeurs, but we tune them out.  I eat his hole for a long time.  I get a trickle of cum into my mouth every time I stick it into him.

I stand up.  I’m ready.  It’s a short fuck.  He actually makes squishy sounds as I rail him.  His erection has returned and he jerks himself.

“Please breed me…”

Magic words.  I shoot and give him his last load of the night…

*

There is a slight addendum.  Kane was gone, with a long drive home.  I needed to let my head clear before I took off.  I sat in the comfortable chair in the black out room.  A guy came in.  He had a great dick.  I could just make it out with the light from the door behind him.

“I saw you guys,” he whispered.  He must have been sitting in the main lobby when I walked into the room, as he certainly couldn’t see me now.  My mouth was all over this guy’s dick.  “I don’t fuck guys—but he was damn hot.”

I tried to grunt some sort of affirmative.  But he went right on.  “Here’s the load I would have given him…”

And the ‘straight’ guy began shooting buckets of jizz into my mouth…

Wonderous Beard Visits the Playroom

 My Playroom—January, 2026

 

Remember the man with the wonderous beard—the guy who gave me excellent head at the bookstore and left his number on my windshield?    I made contact with him that night.  It took a little work as the last digit was rather scrawled and it could have been a 1, 2 or 7.  I hit on the right one (eventually) and he was excited I had followed through.  He told me he lived in northern Michigan, but really wanted to make the long drive to the playroom so he could feel my cock in both his holes.  I didn’t try to dissuade him.  I wanted a re-match myself.

Mark made the trip on the first Wednesday of the new year.  I set things up in the shower for him as I knew his drive was long enough that he’d want to refresh his clean out.  He arrived, spent some quality time in the shower and was soon ready to go downstairs.  I showed him the way, having given him the extra bathrobe I keep for visitors.  I laid down on the bed.  He tossed the robe on the chair and crawled between my spread legs...

 

His beard is all over my thighs as he licks my balls.  Then it is caressing my nuts as he takes my shaft into his mouth.  There are certain men who just seem born to suck dick—and Mark is one of them.  He knows all the tricks to make my dick throb and drool. 

Now he’s fully aware of the huge mirror that runs the length of the bed, just like a bathhouse.  He watches himself take every inch of my cock.  He groans as he hits the base, sending shivers through me.  He inches off me—and gasps for air.

He does it all again.

And again.

Now he swings his lower body around towards my head.  I think for a moment he wants to 69.  Nope, he stops with his hips near my shoulder.  He is adjusting the angle for an even deep descent on my wet dick.  I moan as he bottoms out on me.  I am so firmly encased in his throat muscles.  He makes himself swallow. I feel the ripple down the length of my cock.  Damn!  He comes up for air.  Panting.

“Will you throat fuck me?”

I get up and he hangs his head over the edge of the bed.  I do a slight squat and begin fucking his face.  I give him three or five strokes and pull all the way out to let him get some air.  Again.  And once more.  I thrust deep and hold until he chokes on my cock and I pull out the long strands of deep throat spittle.  I wrap them around my cock and fuck his face as deeply as I can.

I tell him to get on all fours on the flattened fuck bench.  It’s time to give my mouth a workout.  I try to give him just as much pleasure as he gave me as I lick his ass crack and tongue fuck his hole.  Soon enough, I stand up and slide into the loosened pucker I’ve been eating.  He gasps—and takes me easily.  I am completely buried in his ass.

“You feel soooo good,” he croons.

I hold for a moment and begin to fuck.  Slowly.  Deliberately.  All the way in.  All the way out.  Over and over.

I point out the mirror on the side wall.  He can’t stop looking at himself getting fucked.  I pick up the pace and begin to truly plow into him.  Hard and fast. 

I pull out and bring him my glistening cock.  He loves the taste of his hole mixed with the coconut oil for lube.  He cleans every inch of me.  And the sweat from my balls.  I fuck him again.  Slowly.  Then fast.  Now slow again.  I pull out and slap my cock on his swollen ass lips.  He groans.  I sigh.  I sink back into his hole and fuck him hard.  Now some more ATM.  This time after he licks my balls, I pull them up so he can lick under them—telling him to clean my cock ring.  His tongue feels fantastic.

We move to the sling.  I eat his freshly fucked hole for a long time.  He is a good self- luber—and delicious.  I stand and fuck.  His eyes are on the mirror above him.  He loves watching himself be ravished.  I build the fuck, making the sling really rock.  Then I stand still and push and pull the sling (and his ass) onto my shaft.  When I stop, I make him taste our juices once again.

We take a short break on the bed, talking about this and that.

Soon, he asks for me to sit on the bench.  With his back to me, he sits on my cock, keeping his feet on the floor.  He pounds himself down on me.  Over and over, babbling about how good it feels.

“If you keep this up, I’ll shoot.”

“Do it…”

“I really want to see your face when I cum.”

He grins and reluctantly gets off me.  He jumps in the sling, getting his ankles expertly into the stirrups before I can help.  I eat his hole briefly and my balls tell me I really can breed this man anytime.

“You want it?”

“Fill me up!”  He grabs his own cock for the first time.  It semi-erects as he jerks it.

I’m there.  I groan out my orgasm, grabbing the top pipes of the sling frame and hang on.  I can feel my cock give him at least four blasts of cum.  I stay right there.  His cock is now rock hard.  He jerks it—and splatters his cum all over his chest and pubes.  I lean down and lick up a puddle.  I slowly pull out and, with his cum still in my mouth, tongue his hole.  Mixing our two loads inside him…

*

Our first encounter for those who missed it:  Bookstore Saturday:  The Man with the Wonderous Beard

History: Jimmy

 Well, here we are with the next step in my personal sex history.  I’d met Rob and all but moved into his apartment for the last bit of my junior year.  Now we were being separated as we both went in different directions for summer work in 1978.

 

I didn’t have long at the family house before I was put on a plane and flown to Texas for my first professional theatre job.  I was picked up at the airport by a friend of a friend (who’d helped me get hired) and driven to the tiny town where I would be doing summer stock.  The theatre was built in the 1880’s.  I loved the feel of history in the place.  My accommodations were not as nice.  It was an old, cramped hospital/clinic with sleeping quarters and a grimy communal kitchen, with cockroaches the size of my foot. Everybody had a roommate—except for one enterprising young man who found and cleaned out a broom closet so he didn’t have to share.   

The first night I had the room to myself as my roommate wasn’t due until the next day.  Jimmy arrived, just before the first company meeting, like a hurricane.  He was from Dallas and had the largest convertible I had ever seen.  It was packed with far too many suitcases and his drum kit—for he was the percussionist for the four shows.  I was drafted to help him unpack.  

I did.  He was affable, with a Texas drawl that at times was so thick I had to ask him to repeat what he’d just said.  Jimmy was just under six feet, with shaggy reddish blond hair and a handsome face.  Likely late 20’s, but he seemed older, with me being a very young 21.  My gaydar started blaring by the second suitcase.  I was sure he was queer…

I settled quite quickly into the routine there.  We were doing four musicals over the long summer.  We built sets in the morning (in a Quonset hut under the baking Texas skies) and rehearsed in the afternoon and evening.  Jimmy had a freer schedule.  And he had that car—so we could go farther afield to an actual supermarket for food.

Jimmy waited until the first show opened before he propositioned me.  I was more than ready.  (The shower here was so tiny, you didn’t want to jerk off in it as you might touch the moldy shower curtain.)  He had a cock that was just a little smaller than mine.  Bigger than anyone I had played with in my early years.  He was after all, only the fifth man in my life list. 

We sixty-nined on my bed.  He pulled off my cock, panting and asked if he could fuck me.  I told him I didn’t really care for it.  But then he began eating my ass.  I gave in.  Christ!  My first big dick—and it hurt.  He finished quickly and we realized that I’d actually bled on his cock.  He toweled me off and told me to straddle his chest and jerk off.  I did.  Shooting all over his face.

The pattern was set.  Almost every night I took his dick.  Bled. And shot on his face and chest.  Two thirds of the way through the summer, I finally had the balls to ask if we could just do some oral.

“It’s not sex if you don’t fuck,’ was his answer.

I told him I really got no pleasure when he fucked me.

“Then you’d better fuck me.”

I wasn’t sure this was the option I was after.  I’d barely fucked anyone.  But I found fucking ass so much better with Jimmy.  And I loved cumming inside him.  And he didn’t seem to care whether he was top or bottom—as long as fucking happened.  I did love his cum shot on me after I’d shot inside him.

Our switching of roles was the talk of the men’s dressing room the next day.  The conversation had been heard by a pair of queens in the next room through the paper-thin walls.  They recounted it, word for word, as I grew redder and redder.  When I told Jimmy after the show, he shrugged and said: “So?”  It took me a few more years to be able to adapt his nonchalance.

My parents drove to Texas to see the middle two shows.  They arrived to see the final performance of one and the first performance of the next one.  I was not doing anything notable in either production, but my mother was thrilled to see the theatre—and me in my first professional gig.  They met Jimmy, and he put on his best southern charm.  My mother was seduced—and I think my dad knew just what was happening.

When the fourth and last show opened—we had our days free.  Jimmy took me all over Dallas and Fort Worth.   I hated my first roller coaster at Six Flags, but loved the Kimbell Art Museum.  Jimmy was a drinker—and on each trip he would stockpile his bourbon, as you couldn’t buy it out where we were living.

All during this time, I was getting long letters from Rob.  He detailed his summer—where he was doing very similar things.  I wrote back telling him about our productions and I told him about Jimmy.  He’d had one brief oral session with a cast mate, but nothing like the prolonged summer of sex I was experiencing.  In one of the last letters of August, he brought up our living together come fall.  I said ‘yes’ without a second thought.

As the end approached, Jimmy wanted more.  He used the word ‘boyfriend.’  I had told him about Rob.  And Jimmy knew I had to complete my senior year, back in Michigan, but he was sure we could keep whatever it was we had alive. 

During the final few days, I finally told him I couldn’t promise him anything as I didn’t know what would happen when Rob and I actually lived together.   Jimmy sighed and said he’d wait.

He drove me to the airport.  We almost missed the flight—I’d never run for a plane before.  He breathlessly admitted he did it on purpose so he wouldn’t have time to say goodbye.  On the plane I opened a letter he’d given me.  Three pages of spilling out all the things he couldn’t bring himself to say to me in person.

I liked the guy—though his drinking scared me.

But I knew I had so much more in common with Rob. 

We were now above the clouds and headed north. 

I realized I couldn’t wait to see Rob again.  

A good sign. 

Wasn’t it?