History: Living Together

 We are back with the next piece of my personal history—trying, I guess, to figure out how I became the man I am today.  Last time, Rob and I had gone our separate ways at the end of my junior year for a summer of work.  I had slept with my roommate in Texas, but was relieved, though I wouldn’t have said it, to fly home to Michigan…

 

It was a happy reunion.  Almost as if we hadn’t been apart for close to three months.  Rob and I picked up right where we’d left off as he pulled his huge Dodge, crammed with just about all of his worldly goods, into my parent’s driveway.  We had to work fast to find an apartment back in our college town.  My father had actually been easy to convince to get me out of the dorms and try apartment living for my senior year.

Rob had always lived in cramped quarters during his American university days.  He really wanted to be in an apartment complex.  We found one by chance.  It was within walking distance from the campus, which was important to me as I had no car.  Even better, it was a brand-new construction and we would be the very first tenants in the building. 

Rob handled all the paperwork, with me watching and learning.  There were a lot of life skills I needed to learn—and I kept right on absorbing them.  He was an effortless teacher—once he got used to the idea.

We settled in just in time for school to begin.  I loved my senior year.  Rob, though older, was not quite there yet.  He’d changed majors, losing a huge amount of credits in the process.  He also had to work as well as go to class.   Life was good in our new home.

Not without conflict—like any two people living together, we could rub each other the wrong way.  He loved to cook.  So did I.  We tried working together preparing our first supper there—whoops!  I still can hear his stentorian voice saying: “I just stirred that…” as I raised a lid once too often.  We quickly fixed the issue by alternating nights.  We also, wisely, kept our finances separate.  He could and did buy everything.  I was the exact opposite.

The sex was good.  Not especially varied, but I loved sharing a bed.  Some 69—get off in each other’s mouths for minimal clean up, roll over and go to sleep.  It was perfect for 21-year- old me.  Rob still had a roving eye.  I made peace with it.  Another man’s cock in his mouth for a few minutes didn’t really bother me.  I would prefer that he’d bring him home for the both of us, but that didn’t happen.  Yet.

I did meet the woman he’d had an affair with right after his divorce. We stumbled on her at some community theatre performance we were all attending. While Rob went to the restroom, she told me she could never believe he was gay.  She said a few other choice things to me.  When Rob returned and picked up on how she was taking it, he made a point of telling her about how he loved the size of my penis.   They never saw each other again.

There was a true adult bookstore in our college town.  We ventured in.  We found a rather hardcore gay magazine.  Rob bought it and we had hours of adventures—using it to fuel our own sex.  It was likely the first time I’d seen three men in a bed together—at least I don’t remember any multiples in the mags from my brother.

Rob saw one of our professors, occasionally, too.  In ‘that’ way.  They both were drinkers and once inhibitions were down, they had oral sex.  I knew this had started before I’d met Rob—and it seemed like a logical outlet.  Somehow, I ended up on a field trip with the same professor that involved an overnight.  I saw the professor naked—and he was my size.  I instantly knew why Rob was attracted…And yes, I sampled that matched cock and he mine.  Though only for a moment before he went off to another student in another room…

Ah, the 1970’s…

*

In the middle of the winter of 1979, Rob asked if I had ever had sex with a woman.  I told him, truthfully, no.  I knew I was attracted to men—and went with it.  Having been married briefly and then the affair with the married woman mentioned above, he rather offhandedly suggested it wouldn’t be a bad idea to try it and make sure. 

I wasn’t sure I wanted to bother.  He mentioned a woman in the drama department.  She’d broken up with her high school boyfriend and was going through all the gay men in the department, trying to flip them.  I found it more funny than sexy…

The thought stuck.  I talked to the young woman.  She was enthusiastic.  (I’m sure Rob had told her I was big….)  We arranged a time.  Rob helped put fresh sheets on the bed and went to the bar, telling me to have fun.  Sheryl arrived.  We talked.  She was on birth control and hated condoms.  In those pre-HIV days, we didn’t think any farther.  We talked more and went for it.  She was my age, a blond and big boned.  She told me my tongue work on her breasts was great.  I wanted to go lower, but she hated cunnilingus—it was too intense for her.  She sucked me.  I made encouraging noises, but realized for the first time how much bigger men’s mouths are—and missed the roominess.  I fingered her and we fucked.  It all went fine.  And I didn’t repeat it for years and years…

Much more interesting was a handsome young man in the show I was directing and Rob was musically directing, as well as acting in it.  We both wanted him.  He seemed straight but bendable.  Rob made play after play for him—and was always rebuffed.  I had purchased my Dad’s old car when he replaced it.  I offered to take the young man home.  He agreed.  He directed me out into the countryside, told me to park and suck his dick—‘like I know you want…’

I did.  Nothing special.  But I’d won.  And told Rob the moment I got home.  He was grumpy, which surprised me as he would done the guy in a heartbeat and told me instantly if he’d won.  It proved to be all fine---but we never did that particular thing again…

Before we knew it, it was my graduation.  We both had summer theatre jobs.  Rob was going back to where he’d worked before.  I was working in Michigan this year.  We’d be close enough to actually see each other if there was any time to get away.

We closed up the apartment. We had been incredibly happy there.  I can still see it…the only place we would be able to truly call home for a very long time as two young men navigated the arts in the Midwest.

*

Until I hit publish, I didn't even remember this was Valentine's Day--a holiday we used as an excuse to send Falcon's naked Valentine's Day cards to each other.  Rob would be in my life for another 29 years.

The Return of Road Worker

 Near Home—January, 2026

 

I stayed home, mostly content, after the evening at the bookstore detailed in the last post.  (Two orgasms tend to do that.)  There was a slight warming in the weather (highs in the 20’s not the teen’s) that got me out of the house on the next Thursday.  I decided to try my luck.  After all, it was the day I often bumped into Cute College Kid…

 

The parking lot is all but empty.   I wonder it I should just turn around and go home.  But I don’t.  I go in.  Two men, strangers to me, are in the room.  They couldn’t be more different in looks—the first man, in his 50’s, is dressed like he’s just left his bank job.  The other guy, maybe a few years older, is all jeans and flannel shirt with work boots.  But the good news is that each has his cock out—and are stroking to the straight video.

I sit and pull out my cock.  They notice—but barely.

We stroke. 

I get the nod from the business guy first.  I go over and kneel in front of him.  It’s a regulation six-incher.   It’s not very hard, but I figure I can fix that.  I work on him.  He murmurs his appreciation, but his cock never stiffens up.  If anything, his cock gets floppier.

I pull off him.  He leans in and whispers: “That was great.  Thanks.”  He heads to the restroom, as if I’ve gotten him off.  He takes off.

Flannel Shirt lets the entrance door shut before he turns to me and says, rather loudly: “If you like cock, come work on mine.” 

I shrug and go over.  He’s a little thicker—with extra skin, though not a full foreskin.  I suck.  He is not fully hard either.  And I can’t quite get him there.  His cock fills for a few moments, but then he loses it again.  Once again, he seems to be enjoying what I’m doing, but he’s never going to be able to shoot at this rate.

I work his balls out of his underwear.  I lick his very hairy sack for quite awhile as he jerks his cock.  This is working.  He’s harder now, with his own hand and my tongue on his nuts.  I think we might be getting somewhere.

“Take it,” he grunts and shoves his cock into my mouth.  It wilts.  There is no ejaculate.  But he seems happy.  I clean him up, as if there was cum everywhere.  He shoves himself back into his pants and takes off.

I stroke alone.

The door opens and the Voyeur walks in.  He sits next to me, all smiles.  We chat as he opens his fly.  “You can suck it,” he tells me “but I should tell you, I shot just before I came here.”

I smile and inwardly roll my eyes.  I don’t suck him right then, but soon I decide that even soft, it’d be more fun than the talky video.  I firm him up a little, but my knees wear out long before I’d call it hard.  I sit back down.

I stroke.  The Voyeur flails at his half hard cock…

The door opens and everything changes.  It’s Road Worker, the shaggy haired construction guy.  I haven’t seen him in months.  The Voyeur literally elbows me as RW walks in.  Road Worker nods to us, not really focusing on who we are.  He sits and pulls out his very hard cock.  Only then does he really ‘see’ me.  He smiles. My dick, after all, is the dick of choice for his ass. 

I stand up and kneel in front of him.  I always suck his cock for a bit before we get to the main event.  It’s great to have a rampant dick finally in my mouth.  And a juicy one.  He groans, letting his head loll back and shaking his shoulder length curls.  He carefully stands up, keeping his dick in my mouth.  He begins fucking my face.  (The Voyeur jerks to this—and is now rock hard.)

“Fuck me?” he grunts out—as he pauses fucking my mouth.

I nod and stand up.  He steps out of his grimy jeans.  There is no underwear.  He turns to toss them in his chair.  I haven’t seen this hairless ass for quite some time.  I go to my knees, grab his hips and pull him onto my face so I can tongue his ass.  He groans.  I truly believe that I am the only man who does this to him.  His hole begins to gape.

“I need your cock,” he grunts out.  I stand up.  I grease up.  He stays bent over, braced on the arms of the leather chair.  I slide in.  Easily.

“Fuck,” he croons.  He deliberately stops stroking himself to make it last.  I love being buried again in this hot butt.  I begin a slow in and out.  RW begins jerking himself along with me.  He stops and takes a hit of poppers and passes them back to me, uncapped.  Why not?  I keep the motion going as I take a hit.  The vapors hit—first Road Worker and then me.  I pick up the pace.  His hand is now a blur.  I want to breed him—though usually he shoots long before me.

I fuck him harder.  No mercy.  Making it all about me.  Just what he loves.  He jerks faster.  I think I could shoot.  But Road Worker gets there before me.  His ass spasms as he covers the linoleum with his load.  He pulls off me—no longer able to take me once he’s shot.

I am panting—and my cock is drooling cum on the floor.…

But I’m pretty sure my first spurt was inside him.

Road Worker thanks me…and gives me the poppers that he can’t take home,

He goes off jauntily, taking some of my DNA with him…

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

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

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…