Friday, April 20, 2018

One More Picture of Jake

Is it wrong for me to hope that Jake took some mental notes on my rimming technique?

I should be back at the keyboard, typing away, this weekend.

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

An Update on Another Jake

As I have been inundated at work, my writing has been put on hold—so let’s talk about porn!

Jake Morgan, who I was lucky enough to get to play with thanks to the Professor, has a new scene out on Raw Fuck Club.  I opened my morning email and there was this:

This incredibly cute man with the killer smile shows off just how versatile he is—as he did with us.  

The link to the trailer is here:

And I will be breeding that beautiful man if I am ever lucky enough to meet with him again.

Sunday, April 15, 2018

Guest Writer: Jake Goes for Ninety Minutes

(As promised, here is Jake's take on our play.)

Out of town on business again, but with the prospect of seeing FelchingPisser on my way home, I was racing north along the Interstate. Two days of sitting in endless meetings listening to endless debates had put me in the mood for sex as a bottom experiences it:  being pounded senseless by an obliging top.

Problem was, I was arriving later that we had first planned. The wifi at my motel had a mind of its own, coming and going as it pleased. During a few minutes of connection in the early morning I sent an email to FP to explain that I could not leave until 11 AM, and so I would arrive (hopefully!) by 2 PM. 

But who knew if the email got to FP?  I tried to phone, but the number I had was wrong; thankfully I listened to the voicemail greeting before leaving any message. Otherwise someone would have come to his office on Monday to be told, “Hey man, have that sling ready because my ass is HUNGRY!”

All I could do was push on up the highway. At 1:30 PM FP texted me: “Is everything OK?” He hadn’t seen my email and was concerned.  In all the years we’ve played together I had never arrived late. 

So I called back to explain, and pushed on. I pulled up at FP’s door at 2 PM on the dot. With a big load of piss needing to be “voided,” I bounded up the steps and through the door, throwing down my bag and heading for the john.  FP was sitting at his computer and laughed as I sped by.

Both of us were stoked for play, so we went straight up to the playroom.  Now when we play together, sometimes FP is in the mood to experiment, trying out new gear, different positions, a bit of flogging, etc. At other times we just stick to the basics of ass play. Today was such a time:  a session of just the three Fs, foreplay (rimming), fucking, fisting.

Preliminary fucking revealed that I needed a touch up, so I was back in the john with my douche  bag for a brief flush.  FP had said the magic word:  “Otherwise I couldn’t rim you anymore!” Such a result would be classified by insurers as “catastrophic loss.”

Back in the playroom I threw myself onto the fuck bench and shoved my ass up. Lots of rimming (indescribably good!) and plenty of fucking. Those who have been fucked by FP will not be surprised to learn that after one special long, powerful, balls-deep thrust I shouted, “Best fuck of the year!” (Note:  Actually I spoke too soon, as events a week later would prove.  To be continued.)

We moved on to the sling, my favorite place to be. If my portrait is ever painted, I want it to be the image I see reflected on the mirror over FP’s sling. Preferably about half way through a fisting session; that is, after I have been lit up, and before I am totally wasted. After a brief pause to raise the sling to a better height for FP (his back hurts if he has to stoop for long, and I don’t want that to happen), we got down to the amazingly mutual pleasure of fisting. In the generous giving and the willing receiving, there is a huge sense of connection and unlimited pleasure. 

Finally a halt was called for rest, and we lay down side by side on the bed. I look forward to our rest breaks because over the years I’ve fallen in love with this man. To roll up next to him and feel the strength and warmth of his rangy body (and the substantial mass of his balls and dick) is sheer bliss.

“Shall we go on?” I answered the question by hopping back into the sling. But one or two exploratory thrusts revealed that my innards were all ablaze, a fire out of control. Nothing to do but throw in the towel. I began to apologize for my uncooperative asshole, but FP cut me off.  “After all, we were fucking and fisting for more than 90 minutes.”

WHAT???  No way!  But the clock does not lie.  I was suitably impressed, even a little bit awed.  On a normal day I can go for 30 minutes and be happy; on a good day, I can take a fist for 45 minutes, if we stop now and then to revive my hole hunger with some ball busting. But never, ever had my ass taken 90 minutes (plus!) of licking, stretching, thrusting, and pounding. It was a world record, for me at least.

So that’s the account of how Jake went 90 minutes in one stretch with FelchingPisser.  We pulled on our clothes and went off to celebrate with dinner in a nearby restaurant.  Afterwards it was time to get back on the Interstate and head for home, but this time riding on a cloud of deep satisfaction.  And the pleasure of having added more great memories to a great friendship!

Saturday, April 14, 2018

Jake Visits the Playroom

My Playroom—March, 2018

The top of March was unseasonably warm.  I opened the playroom.  The temperature in that room of the old Victorian I live in really reflects whatever the temperature is outside.  I still needed to run a space heater, but the playroom was ready for business.

The first man into it was Jake, eager for my hand (and other various body parts) to get back into his ass.  I was set up and ready at our appointed time.  And he was late.  He’s always early.  Something must be up.  I shot him a text—he was still a ways away.  He was tremendously apologetic—he’d let me know he was running late by email, but his motel connection was terrible and he guessed it may have been lost in the ether.

I began a blog piece as I waited.  He arrived in a flurry.  He wasted a mammoth load of piss in the toilet and we headed upstairs. 

Jake strips down and stows his clothes in the drawers of the high boy.  He has a very large leather ball stretcher on.  With barely a word he gets up on the padded fuck bench.  I fall to my knees and begin eating his ass.   He reaches back and pulls the cheeks apart.  I’m there for a very long time.  I finally will myself to stop licking and start fucking.

I go in easily with all the spit I’ve left behind.  I fuck with slow, even strokes.  I know I will be there a lot today.  I’m in no hurry.  I pull out—whoops—a car trip has once again destroyed a clean out.
Back on the bench I work the freshened hole.  We do some ass to mouth—something vaguely new to Jake—at least with me.  He loves it.  Especially on poppers.  I rotate around the bench a number of times.  Each time I get back to his ass, I fuck him harder and faster.  The last time, I put my boot clad foot up on the knee rest, giving me extra leverage into his hungry hole.

We switch to the sling.  Jake’s eyes are glued to the mirror above.   My cock prods his gaping hole.  I enter him.  A little roughly.  I’m suddenly all about it being for my pleasure.  I fuck him hard.  I grab the ball stretcher.  I squeeze, making the two orbs even shinier as the skin stretches.   The palm of my right hand comes down and gives them a stinging blow.  Jake grunts.  Appreciatively.  I do it again. His response is louder.  Once more.  He begins to pant and I go back to concentrating on drilling him with my dick.


It’s fisting time. My hands are greased and begin exploring the hole where my cock is so at home.  A few fingers.  A lateral stretch.  My left hand glides in.  I twist and pull out—ever so slowly.  I stand and fuck the hole.  Back to fingers and then my right hand. 

A quick fuck.

I grab the egg-headed dildo.  It goes in easily now.  I add my dick.  His hole once again feels like the first moments of the afternoon.  I fuck with it in place, reveling as my cock glides over the ribbing of the toy.  I pull my dick out but leave the toy in place.  I work my hand into him so I can hold onto the toy in situ.  I hold it and slowly turn it deep in his guts before I pull it out.

Alternate hands now.  Slow and nice.  Creating a rhythm to enter with a twist, turn inside, curl into a fist, turn and pull out.  Left.  Right.  Left.

I begin some speculum spreading.  And then some prostate stroking—sending shivers through Jake.

“Trap it between your fingers.”

I do.  I squeeze.  He takes a hit.  I do it again.  And again.

More hands.  Left.  Right.  Left.  Right.

I have the left in place.  My greased right hand slides down my left wrist.  I enter him carefully.  He pushes out slightly.  I slide in.  My right hand is cradled by my left.  I hold it in place.  I think we are both surprised that I have two hands inside him so easily.  I carefully work them out. 

To make sure it’s not a fluke, I do it again. 

And again.


We take a break.  Jake lies down on the bed and I wrap around him.  We almost fall asleep.  I ask if we should continue.

Jake gets in the sling willingly.  I begin some exploration with my left hand.

He has to admit he’s done.

I look at the clock on my computer—where fisting porn has been playing. 

It’s hardly surprising he is a little tender—I have been stretching him for 90 minutes. 

(In exactly 24 hours, I will post Jake's take on our session.)

Thursday, April 12, 2018

Booth Invasion

Central Ohio—February, 2018

I had one final business trip in February.  It took me quite close to a bookstore that I had only visited a few times. I’ve been there only once in the blog years.  That rather humorous/annoying adventure you will find here.

It was after dinner—and I knew that it was a better venue during the day, but I was staying the night nearby, so of course I still went.  The parking lot held half a dozen cars.  That was better than I expected.  After all, it only takes one man….

I go in.  The young female attendant is checking the dildos displayed on the wall while talking on the phone.  “I don’t have the one I was talking about.  I do have one that vibrates and one that you can make squirt.”

She pauses.  Seemingly none of those options are what the caller wants.

“Well, come look them over tomorrow.  We open at 10.”  She hits the disconnect button on the phone as she turns.  She’s surprised I’m at the counter.  “How can I help you?”

I tell her I want ten dollars in tokens for the booths.

“Are you sure?” she asks, seemingly bewildered why I would want to go back there.

She counts out the faux “dollar” bills that the arcade machines use.  I thank her and go through the curtain.  It’s quiet but for one preview booth, obviously watching straight porn with a very vocal ‘actress.’  A quick once over reveals I am alone in the arcade.

I sigh, open the shower curtain covering the door frame and sit in the back booth.  I feed the machine some of the bills and find a decent movie.  I unbutton my pants.  No, it’s a really good movie—two tatted men working tag teaming a younger man.  I stroke happily.

“Well, well!” 

The voice is a whisper.  A man in his late 50’s is standing in the aisle outside my booth.  His hair is grey and rather long.  He comes in, unasked.  I am pretty sure he’s about to kneel and give me head. 
But no.   He wrests my dick from my hand.  He begins stroking it.  Roughly.

“That’s a nice cock,” he growls.  “I want this in my manpussy.”

He let’s go.  He straightens up and undoes his pants.  They fall to the floor.  There is no underwear.  He turns—thrusting his ass towards me.

It would be the most natural thing in the world to lean forward and tongue his hole.  But I can’t.  He hasn’t been near a shower.  For a couple of days. 

I have to tell him to leave.  He just looks at me, over his shoulder.

I tell him I’m just a cocksucker.  He still stands there, ready for me to slip it up him.

I finally lie and tell him I don’t particularly like to fuck.  This makes him go.  Not just out of my booth, but out of the store.  I’m now fully alone in the arcade.

I watch porn until I run out of tokens…but my cock doesn’t recover easily.

I button up and step outside.  There are still a number of cars in the lot—with no one inside but the clerk.

I go to my motel.

I open my laptop and jerk to Jon Shield taking cock and getting covered in piss.

The floor is a laminate, just like at the orgy where the top unloaded on it.

I do the same, right as Jon cleans a spent dick on the screen.

It’s a huge load…but this time I have no desire to lick it up off the floor.

Saturday, April 7, 2018

Bathhouse: Feet and Ass

St. Louis—February, 2018

Some of my readers may remember that a friend has always thrown a sex party for me when I come to St. Louis.  This year it wasn’t going to happen as the host was recovering from some surgery.  To celebrate my surviving the conference, I went back to the bathhouse…

I am standing on the slurp ramp, watching porn.  A few men have walked by, but tonight no one wants to be seen sucking dick in public.  I watch the porn—then when I realize no one is interested, I go watch porn where I can sit down and be more comfortable.  I stroke.

“That’s some dick.” 

I look up.  A very tall, very well built guy is looking at me.  The white towel he has wrapped around himself looks even whiter against his very black skin.  He reaches out a big hand and strokes my dick.  “Come to my room.”

I follow him—not bothering to cover my raging hard on.  He has a double bed room with a mirror on one wall.  He flops down on the bed, lying on his chest, his head towards me so I can stand and he can suck.  He does just that—and very well.  He encourages me to fuck his face.  I can’t take my eyes off his amazing, gym built bubble butt.  Or it’s reflection in that big mirror. When he finally stops to catch his breath, I tell him I want to eat his ass.

“You aren’t fucking me with this thing, you’d rip me up.”

“Just my tongue.  I promise.”

He turns around, reluctantly.  I kneel and dive into his ass.  My entire face disappears between the two mounds of flesh.  He moans and pants.  I can taste lube in his hole.  He’s been fucked.   Just the idea makes my cock drool.  I eat.  Spit.  Poke and prod.  He is very vocal.

He pulls away from me, rolling onto his back.  “You love that, don’t you?”

I admit I love to eat ass.

He admits he was fucked, but by a guy half my size.  Then:  “Will you let me do what I want to you?”

I look down as his very hard, very thick cock and worry a little.  But I answer yes.

“Take off your boots.”

I do.  I ask about the socks.   I leave them on and sit beside him.  He rolls around to inhale the insteps.  Kiss them. He strips the socks off me with his teeth.  Then he begins orally servicing both my feet.  Every toe is sucked.  All five go into his mouth.  He can take me very deeply.  He switches to the other foot.  He repeats everything.  His cock is now rigid and pouring out precum.

“Stand up and step on my face.”

I stand.  My right foot goes to his wide open mouth.  I press lightly down.  He groans in the most sensual way.  His tongue cleans my instep, then with a slight shift, the heel.  I change feet and grind down with my left.

He shoots all over his chest.

He’s embarrassed now that I know this about him—and he hustles me out of the room.  I exit, so fast I have to carry my boots…


I wander. 

I strip and sit in the steam. 

I wander again.

A door is open.  A man in a jock is sitting on his bed, watching the porn playing on his television.  He could be anywhere from mid 30’s to mid 40’s.  Thin and lithe, a true swimmer’s build.   Hairless above the waist.  His jock covers what looks like a forest of pubes.  But he’s not ass up, so I hesitate.

We smile and I walk on by.  I make the circuit and approach his door again.  He invites me in.

I sit next to him.  He assumes I’m in town for the leather competition which was happening in St. Louis this weekend.  He tells me it’s why he came to town from a neighboring state—and he’s surprised that more of the participants are not here.

And soon he’s sucking my dick.  He pulls off of it once it’s grown to its full size.  “You are even bigger than I guessed.  You fuck?”

I nod.

He proceeds to sit on me right there.  He rides me, groaning out his pleasure.  One older man stays at our open door to watch.  “Should I close it?” my partner of the moment asks.  

“Let him watch.  I don’t care.”

He increases the tempo of his fuck, pounding himself down on me.  He likes to show off as much as I do.

We change around.  I eat his juiced up hole as I kneel on the floor.  I fuck him, feet on the ground, his ass hanging off the small bed.  It’s uncomfortable, but hot.  His ass is wet and hot and he knows how to milk me.

“We should go use the sling,” I tell him.

He agrees.  I tell him I am totally open to sharing him with others if he likes that.  His eyes light up and we head to the play room.

The sling and fuck bench are in the same corner.  There is a wall of really open lattice between the sling and the porn area.  Guys can watch from there—or come around the open wall and join us.  Right now—the whole area is deserted except for a noisy blowjob happening in the gloryhole booths behind us.

I get him into the sling.  It’s great to eat his ass in comfort.  He is a heavy self luber, so his chute is slippery with juices.  I spend a long time eating him out while he does poppers.  He can’t stop moaning:  “You make my asscunt feel so good.”  Eventually I stand up and push into his sloppy hole.  The sling is a little low, but so much better than his cramped room.  I fuck with abandon.

The rattle of chains bring the men.  Many watch.  None play with us.  At least two of them pair up and take turns blowing each other in our space.

I decide to try the bench—that way his mouth is easier to get, too.  He looks great astride the fuckbench, his head towards the entrance to our corner.  It does the trick.  We get a young guy to feed him his cock as I fuck.   There’s no load from his oral invader, but he loves the feeling of being spit roasted.  When the guy decides he’s had enough, and refuses my offer of the ass I’m in, I kneel and lick up our combined juices out of his ass.

“Daddy, do you like your ass eaten?”

I tell him I do.  I get in the sling.  We both popper up and he goes to town.  He’s good at this, too.  And surprisingly, a young guy comes over and sticks his dick in my mouth.  This inspires my rimmer to tongue fuck me deeper yet.  When he realizes my ass is not on offer, the extra guy takes off. 

I want to fuck.  We change places.  I slide into him again.  He’s slippery and wet.

“Cum in my asscunt.  I want your seed.”  I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or the Black guy watching through the lattice, but I don’t care.  I’m in full rut now.  I need to breed this man.  I fuck hard. 

I taste his ass one last time.

I slide into his over juiced hole and explode.  I hang onto the chains, the orgasm is so intense.  I stay in his ‘asscunt’ while he milks out the last drop of my cum.  I slowly pull out and bring my cum covered cock to his mouth.  He suckles it clean.  I go back to his ass.  I kneel and begin licking out our mingled juices…

Wednesday, April 4, 2018

Bathhouse: A Small but Horny Crowd

St. Louis—February, 2018

I made it to St. Louis easily the next day.  I checked into my hotel and wrote a blog post before an early supper.  I knew I wanted to head to the bathhouse—not angle for guys online…

I check in and get a locker.  I want to play in public—not hide in a room.  I have my boots and jock ready to put back on, but first I want to warm up in the steam room.  I wander the halls on the way there.  The last time I was here there were two play spaces.  The back space has been renovated into deluxe rooms.  We haven’t lost the communal sling; it’s now near the slurp ramp in the newer play area.  There is also a fuck bench there, near a three screens of porn. 

It’s early for much of a crowd.  I knew that.  I start in the sauna—get thawed out and move to the steam room.  I sit in my favorite back corner—it gives a smidgen of privacy for play while still being in view of all traffic.  I hear someone come in, the far entrance, but can’t see them.  He stops at the middle seating area—a big 8 x 8 square of tile.  I hear him sprawl out and sigh.

The steam cycles.  The temperature crests to almost too hot and begins to cool.

I hear the far door open again.  Someone walks in.  He stops.  I listen.   I hear the sound of a cock being sucked.  The slurping is loud in the tiled room.  I get up and walk around the wall hiding me.  The steam is just clearing enough to reveal a big bear of a white man sprawled on his back on the center seating position.  His head is hanging over the edge and a very tall Black man is face fucking him.  The Bear, who is my age, is masturbating his diminutive cock as he sucks the much bigger dick of the much younger man.  I stand and watch.  I smile at the Black kid.  He nods for me to come closer.  His hand grabs my hard on.  He strokes it as he fucks into the Bear’s mouth.  That’s nice, but it’s not what I want.  I move behind him and tongue fuck the beautiful Black bubble butt in motion.  He bends slightly to let me in.  This pushes his big cock down the cocksucker’s throat.  He’s in heaven, from the grunts I’m hearing and the wet stroking sound of his hand on his own dick.  The man I’m rimming lets out a groan, too.  His hole is taking a pummeling from my prodding tongue on each backstroke.  His left hand reaches back and holds my head in place. He grinds me into his full ass. 

Now he turns so he’s facing me.  He pulls me up before I can taste his dick.  He lunges into a kiss.  When we pull out of it, he whispers in my ear, “Do you fuck?”

I nod.

He turns back and feeds the Bear his cock again, but now he’s bent over him, giving me access to plow his ass.  I spit on his hole.  My cock pushes against his pucker.  He pushes back.  I get the tip into him—not even the full head.  He groans as if I’d just sunk my entire shaft into him.

I pull out and bury my face into him again.  He needs a lot more spit.  I slobber into him—and push it deep.  I stand up and try again.  I can’t get into his tight hole.  He is clenching it shut. 

More guys arrive.  One strokes my chest.  Another gets his dick out and feeds it to the guy I’m trying to fuck.  At that moment, the steam kicks in.  We are standing right by the main jet.  Already sweating, none of us can take the rise in temperature.  The room is now unbearably hot.  I push one more time.  I don’t get in—but I cause the man to ejaculate into the Bear’s mouth.  I grab my towel and get out of the inferno…


I’m on the slurp ramp.  I’ve dried off and added my jock and boots to roam the halls.  A few open doors—but I want public play.  I’ve ended at the gloryholes, where I had some half hearted head from one very timid man. 

I go down the stairs.  I know there are two guys watching porn.  I round the corner.  They have proceeded to stroking the other’s cock.  I watch the porn, too, and the guys, standing by the side of the seating area.

A man I haven’t seen in my travels arrives.  He’s mid-30’s, medium height, Black and carrying more weight than he should.  And in moments he proves to be an exquisite cocksucker.  He bends over and just takes me down.  This inspires the stroking guys to move into a 69.  I sit on the edge of the seating area and let him go to town.  He loves to go deep—and hold it until he chokes.  This makes his throat spasm—and makes me gasp every time he does it.

He finally pulls off my dick which is awash with his deep spittle.  “Tell me that you fuck with this thing.”

I don’t tell him.  I show him.  I get up and push him down so he’s braced against the platform.  My slick cock enters this man easily.  He groans.  “Fuck me, daddy, with that big dick.”

The sound of our fucking brings more guys into the area.  A short Black guy wants to spell me.  I let him—without asking the bottom.  He knows how to work a hole—I love watching his face as he fucks.  He has the bottom begging for his cum.

He in turn is spelled by an even shorter Latino.  He is a jack rabbit fucker.  It’s all about him and his load.  He stops, edging himself and tells me to go back up that big butt.

I slide back in.  His hole is so fucking wet now.  I piston fuck him.  I drive his whole body into the platform.  And I fuck the cum out of him—he explodes all over the platform edge.  He grabs his towel and is gone.

“Fuck me.”  It’s the Latino.  I look at the other top and nod.  He goes first.  We trade off.  And trade off again.  The second time I load him.  The Latino spews a ton of curse words as he jerks himself.  He pulls off me to shoot his load.  I go to my knees and take his load in my mouth.  He won’t let me clean under his foreskin, he’s so sensitive.

I sit on the edge of the platform.  Alone.  The couple have finished up long ago.  I look around.  I’m wrong.  The other Top is back.  He sits next to me.  “I need to cum and get out of here.”  He reaches around, trying to worm a finger into the crack of my ass.

“I hate getting fucked.”

“Well, I don’t.  You got any left?”

I’m about to tell him I’m a one and done guy—but my cock is hard and calling me a liar.

He bends over.  I eat his ass.  He’s incredibly sweaty from all the fucking and that’s all it takes for me to stiffen up the rest of the way.

I get his hole very wet.  I slide in easily.  He fucks back on me until he spews—and my supposedly spent cock shoots him full of spunk, too.