Kieran Needs Some Stress Relief

 My Playroom—July, 2026

 

The very next day I ended up having Kieran come to the playroom.  July was all about moving house for him, but he finally found time to sneak away after all his endless trips to the new place.  On arrival, he apologized that he had strained his back with the move so he wasn’t sure what all he could do.  He stripped and sat on the bed…

 

My cock is already making my jock pouch stretch as I think of his oral skills.  I step forward.  He inhales deeply before peeling the fabric away.  He takes me, semi-hard, into his mouth.  His tongue is all over me, making me fully harden up very quickly.  He groans the moment my cock has reached its full size.  He begins sucking me in earnest—a great mix of deep throat and active tongue work.  He does my ball repeatedly before always returning to my dripping cock head.

I usually lie down to help him get under my ball sack, but that’s off the table today with his bad back.  Instead, I just spend a little longer feeding him my cock.  I begin to throat fuck him.  He groans as I plow into his mouth and across his tongue, deep into his throat.  After a couple of minutes, I pull out, leaving him panting.

I suggest the sling.  He moves cautiously to get into it, but once lying back on the leather he declares he’s totally comfortable.  I kneel and begin eating his ass.  Kieran moans: “That feels so good.”  I add coconut oil to my cock as my tongue works his hole.  I stand up and push the head of my cock into him.  He gasps.  I give him a moment and then inch my way into him.  Slowly.  Until I am buried inside him. 

I begin a slow in and out.  My hand runs over his hairy chest, massaging one minute, tweaking a nipple the next.  Now it trails down to his balls.  My fingers stroke them as I continue to fuck.

I pull out.  I go to my knees and lick his freshly fucked hole.  I love how anyone’s hole changes after a fuck.  Kieran’s ass lips are starting to swell.  I suckle them, making the blood pump to them even faster.  I stand back up and slide into him once again.  He takes my whole length this time.  He’s watching in the mirror above the sling.  The sight of him taking my dick makes his cock begin to harden.  I fuck—grabbing the top of the sling frame to pump harder.

I take a breather.  I grab the Seahorse off the toy shelf.  I slather it with lube.  Kieran loves the bumps on the toy.   The first time I used it on him, I think he took half.  Today, he has two thirds of it buried in his gut.  I push it in with the curve going up.  He pants as it grazes his prostate.  I push it in with the curve going down.  He moans and mumbles: “Deeper.”  I comply.

Seeing the toy split him open makes me harder yet.  I pull out the Seahorse and fuck him once again.  Slow.  With deep, long strokes.  His cock had gone down with the toy.  He gets hard again when the real thing is working his hole.  His hand goes to his erection and he works it for a moment—and then let’s go as I pick up the pace of the fuck.

I pull out once again.

I eat his hole for a moment before I get up and grab the Spades.  Instead of balls on a string, they are five mini butt plugs strung together.  Kieran loved this the last time we played.  I grease them up and insert the first one.  His hole snaps shut.  I begin working the second one into him.  Again, his hole closes around the end of it, but not as tightly now.  I push the third into him.  His hole gets smaller, but does not fully close.  I try for the fourth, but it’s too much.

“I’m pulling them out,” I tell him.

His hole resists as the big part of each spade leaves his hole.  He gasps—loving how full he felt—and then nothing.

“Do it again.”

I do.  One.  Two.  Three.  Try for four—and nope.

This time, Kieran’s cock has erected a little more with each spade worked into him.  He’s fully hard.  He cradles his dick in his hand.

I pull the string out.  One.  Two. Three.

“Fuuuuuuck!”

Kieran is shooting.  His load is all over his chest.  I stand up and lean in to lick up some of it.  He let’s me get the cum on his belly, but pushes me away from his tender dick.

Last time, he told me we could keep going after he shot.  Not today.  With the orgasm, I suspect he’s feeling his back again.  I help his out of the sling, hand him a towel for the rest of the cum splatter and watch him get dressed.  I grab my phone.  Just under an hour.  As I got off the day before at the bookstore, I am not at all distressed to put on my robe and follow him up the stairs…

The Biker Bends Over

 Near Home—July, 2026

 

After my bad mood killed much fun on the Saturday afternoon, I waited until Monday to play again.  I deliberately didn’t go in the afternoon.  I needed to see different faces.  Monday night might be a bust, but I took the chance…

 

I am heartened that there are a few cars and a motorcycle in the lot.  I go in, pay and enter the theatre.  I sit in my usual chair.  My cock comes out as I look around the room.  There are three men I don’t recognize and one regular.  The guy I know instantly gets to his feet and comes over.  He smiles and bends, sucking my cock by leaning over the side of the chair.  He is an older gentleman who hates the hard floor.  His white hair is long enough to be pulled back into a ponytail.  His mouth is a great warm-up. And it gets the other men in the room to pull out their cocks.

My sucker can’t stay in this position for long.  He stands up.  “I love how you fill my throat,” he murmurs and takes off.

Two men on the side now go from stroking each other to one sucking the other.  I watch the movie—and keep glancing at the youngest man in the room.  He is dressed in tight jeans and a white T-shirt.   A leather motorcycle jacket is hanging from the back of his chair.  He looks right at me.  He is no more than 38.  Thin framed and with long legs that are jutting out in front of him.  His face is more striking than good looking—and his eyes are on my dick.  He gets up and comes to my side.

“May I?”

He kneels and takes me into his mouth.  He moans as my cock keeps sliding all the way down his throat.  He jerks himself with his right hand as he pleasures me with his mouth.  He spends a lot of time on my drooling cockhead—but gives me equal time on my balls.  Then it’s a long lick up the shaft before deep throating me repeatedly.

The young biker pulls off me.  “Please tell me that you fuck with this thing.”

I nod.

“Want my ass?”

“Absolutely.”

He stands up, ripping off the Tee and tossing it in his chair.  He sits to pull off his boots and peel the jeans down.  His cock is sticking out of his white briefs. They are added to the pile of clothes and his cock, hard and uncut, swings free.  He kneels on my chair seat, but it’s too low.  I tell him to stand and bend.  He does, holding the arms of the chair for support.  It’s a hot ass:  thin and lightly haired but for his butt crack where it is a forest.  I grease my dick and slap it on his ass.

“Fuck me, man.  Raw and deep.”

I press the head against his pucker—which gives way with the slightest pressure.  This guy likes to take cock regularly.  I slide in.  He squeezes down in welcome and then relaxes.  I hold a moment and begin a slow fuck.  He takes every inch with every stroke.  The biker begins to jerk his cock in time to my strokes.

He’s moaning now.  I begin picking up the tempo of my thrusts.  The couple, who were blowing each other, stop and watch the action.  I slap his ass.  Louder and harder than I mean to—but he groans and tells me to do it again.  I do.  The sound fills the small room.  He pants and begins to beg for my cum.  But it’s too soon for me to even try to get there.  I slow down the stroke then speed it up again.  Fast and hard.  He moans—and finally twists off me—collapsing in the chair.

I go to wash—and am delighted to find he was totally prepped for anal play.  I just rinse and piss.  He’s dressing as I come back out.  “Need a smoke,” he tells me.  He finishes up and goes outside.

I stroke.

The two guys go back to trading blow jobs until one of them gets off.  They both leave as the biker returns, along with the Latino who I never fuck due to his lack of cleanout.  They sit.  In moments, the biker asks for another round.  He sucks me, clothed, while across the room, the Latino strokes his cock to us.

“I want more of your ass.”

“Fuck, yeah!”  He gets up and strips again.  He bends, jutting his ass once more in my direction.  This time I kneel and begin tonguing his hole.  He squirms and tells me how good it feels.  The Latino gets up and comes closer, still stroking his dick.  I stand up and slide in.  The Latino steps forward.  “Suck his cock,” I command and the biker is more than eager.  He has two dick in him now and couldn’t be happier.

I fuck him hard.  “You want a turn?” I ask the Latino.  I have seen him top occasionally.  He nods and fucks him with his stubby, but fat cock.  I give Biker my cock straight from his ass and he gulps it down gratefully.  I watch the Latino fuck.  I really want him to unload—so I can fuck in his cum.  But he pulls out without shooting.  We switch back to our original positions.  I fuck his ass harder now and the Latinos is holding the ears of Biker, so he can’t pull off him.

I feel like I might just be able to get off.  The moment I think it, Biker shoots his load, handsfree, all over the floor.  He twists away from us—unable to go on.

He cleans up and leaves for good.  I hear his engine roar outside, over the moans on the screen…

*

I stroke—quite some time.

A young Black man comes in.  He is the guy who let me suck him to climax when the cuter option did someone else a few weeks ago.  He sits to the side and pulls out his phone.  Finally, he strokes.  He keeps glancing at me—until another man arrives. 

The new arrival is a thickset Black man I havn’t seen for a long time.  He’s had my cock before.  He sits near me and looks longingly at it.  The young Black hides his dick and goes back to his phone.  I am sure he’s been looking for someone on a hook-up site.

The door opens.  A handsome daddy comes in.  He looks around the room and sees the young Black.  Bingo.  He moves straight to him—I know they have made online connection.  He kneels and the young guy pulls out his cock.

I nod to the older Black man to come get mine.  His large mouth envelops me.  I love watching him work on me—and then glance over at the other pair.  The handsome daddy is working hard, making the guy in his mouth pant.

I feel my balls contract.  The load I wanted to shoot in Biker’s ass is ready for his guy’s throat.  I begin to moan myself.

So does the other guy getting sucked.

I begin fucking up into my sucker’s mouth.

So does the young guy.

He shoots first.  By a nanosecond.  He moans and collapses on the hot daddy’s head, holding him in place to take every drop.  I am right there with him.  I buck up into my guy’s mouth as my cock explodes.  Over and over.

We both have been served by cum hungry men.  Both of us are cleaned of any stray cum as we sit there and squirm…

Bad Knees and a Bad Mood

 Near Home—July, 2026

 

I waited until Friday to return to the bookstore.  It was my usual time, after lunch with a strong cup of tea for the drive in.  There were a few cars in the parking lot…

 

The theatre feels particularly dark after the bright sunshine outside.  I stand near the door and let my eyes adjust.  There are at least eight men here—filling half the seats.  I sit on the long side wall.  I open my fly and haul out my hardening cock.  Shaved Head is sitting near the gay screen.  He comes over and gets me good and wet.  Shy One is next.  His work on my balls makes my cock wet in a different way.  He licks up all my precum, sighing contentedly.

Shy One stands and gives way to his partner for a second round.  He watches SH make my cock disappear into his mouth and Shy One sighs, almost as if he was doing the sucking himself.  Shaved Head’s return doesn’t last long.  They are nearing the end of the time they spend here.  As Shaved Head visits the restroom, Shy One asks if they will see me tomorrow at the Second Saturday event in Jackson.  I tell him ‘yes’ before he joins his partner and they head home.

“That’s some cock.”  A man, in his middle 70’s, has moved closer to my seat to watch the guy’s take my dick.  He now reaches out and touches my knee.  I let go of my cock, as an invitation for him to touch it.  His soft, wrinkled hand grasps it, feeling the girth.

“Yum.  Would you let me suck it?”

“Of course.”

He smiles and gives my dick a gentle squeeze.  He stands up and, using the arms of my chair, lowers himself to the floor.  He settles himself on the hard linoleum and leans in.  He inhales my ball musk and sighs.  He leans forward and takes me into his mouth.

Damn!  His mouth is great.  I love men who have perfected their dick skills—and he is one of them.  His tongue goes back and forth, from gentle and relaxing to insistent and needy.  He has great suction and no hint of teeth.  He can take my entire length to the pubes—repeatedly.

But he can’t stay on his knees.   He crawls to his chair and pulls himself up.  He thanks me.  In five minutes, he wants another round.  I nod.  It’s the same laborious process to get him to the floor, but it’s worth it.  For both of us.  He goes through all his tricks and finally comes up for air—and hauls himself back to his seat.  I try to give him an arm, but he waves me off.

I jerk.  And he kneads his crotch.

“May I?”

I nod. 

This time he throws down the seat cushion of one of the chairs and goes to kneel on that.  It helps—but not by much.  He still tires fast, leaving my cock wanting more.

A longer break.  Then the same routine:  cushion, a slow kneel and then pure pleasure.

“I’m not going to make you cum, am I?”  He’s looking up at me from between my legs.  He has the most wistful look on his face.

“It can take an act of God to get me off,” I murmur.  “But I love what you’re doing.”

He goes back to sucking for a minute, but the knee joints must be screaming.  He inches over to his chair and pulls himself into it.

Another older man has been watching us.  He moves to sit on the other side of my cocksucker.  Soon they are playing with each other’s bulges.  The new guy gets hard and unzips.  I can see my cocksucker fondling him into full erection.  He starts to go to his knees, but the other guy stops him—he’d rather be stroked than sucked.

I jerk to a very hot and kinky anal sex scene on the straight screen.  I can feel the switch being thrown in my balls.  With very little work, I am pretty sure I could cum.

I stand up and move in front of my cocksucker.  “Do you still want my load?”

“Of course!”

I step in and he leans forward.  I begin a slow fuck of his face.  The man he’d been stroking is agog.  “Suck that dick,” he whispers.  “Make him cum.”

My balls are churning.  It’s a matter of seconds, not minutes.  I stop face fucking and stand still.  His tongue swirls around my cock—and I explode.  I grab his shoulders and hang on as my balls empty. 

He swallows it all, delighted.

He cleans up my wilting cock to get every drop…

*

I did go to the Second Saturday gay event at the bookstore in Jackson (the one with the medical table.)  I got caught in a horrible traffic slow down on the expressway.  I crawled into the city and arrived in a foul mood.

That mood continued throughout the afternoon.  I had some play—but I know my mood colored my perception of the men who did play with me—and likely the men who sensed the bad vibes and avoided me.  There is nothing from that day I need to record for posterity…

So Many Mouths

 Near Home—July, 2026

 

The local bookstore was proving to be a lot of fun with seeing a number of new men there.  It saved me from driving farther afield on some of June’s hottest days.  I went back on the first Monday of July,  not expecting much more than a cool room and some hot porn.  I was pleasantly surprised…

 

I go in.  There are more men here than cars in the parking lot.  I can’t sit in my usual chair, so I find one on the side wall where I can see both screens.  As I unzip, I notice Shaved Head is on his knees in the back corner.  My dick comes out and Shy One, his partner, is right there to suck me to full hardness.

Damn, I love his mouth.  He is all over me, both cock and balls and back again.  I squeeze his shoulder as I quietly moan.

The man Shaved Head is working on has a very vocal orgasm.  He won’t let Shaved Head clean him up and, holding his wet cock away from his pants, beats a hasty retreat to the restroom.  Shaved Head moves to us.  I expect him to take Shy One’s place.  But no.  He’s ready to go.  Shy One gives me one last lick to my full balls and they go home to a late lunch.

There is a general movement in the room as a couple of guys leave.  My current chair is in direct view of the main door.  I still can’t sit in my regular one, so I sit right behind it on the side wall to give a future cocksucker more privacy.

I stroke.  In the row of seats in front of me is a guy, likely in his early 50’s, who is on his phone.  He is thick set and fully dressed, no dick visible.  He puts the phone away when I get comfortable in my new seat.   The man gets up and very nicely asks if he can suck my dick.  I nod and he goes to the floor.  I sigh as his mouth sinks all the way down my hard cock to my pubes.  His throat squeezes me and he comes up for air before beginning a blowjob that rivals Shy One’s exquisite mouth.  He’s down there for a long time, doing all the things I love.  At first, he is trying for a load.  When he realizes that isn’t happening, he settles down to sucking cock for the love of it.

He takes a breather.  Then asks if he can come back for round two.  I give him the go-ahead.  He gets back down on the floor, this time starting his tongue-work on my wet balls.  I sigh and ruffle the hair on his head.

A Black man I recognize from here, but see only occasionally, comes in.  His hair is now totally white.  He sits in the infamous corner chair. He takes out his dick and strokes himself to hardness. 

My cocksucker takes a break—but not for long.  He’s intrigued by fresh meat—and I don’t blame him.  Soon, he’s kneeling in front of the man with the snow-white afro.  I love watching him do all the things to him that he did to me, knowing just how talented his mouth really is.

The door opens again, and another African American comes in.  He is a big guy—a former footballer in build now gone soft.  He sits near the cocksucking.  The moment the clothed sucker gets up, the new man is instantly on his knees in front of the guy in the corner.  The bigger guy unzips and beats his cock as he continues giving head.  The clothed sucker comes back to me.  I get round three of his talented mouth.  I am pleased, that when the large guy finally stands up, White Afro leans forward and sucks him.

Then it all changes around.  The clothed sucker gets up from me and goes over to the where the bigger guy is now sitting.  The bigger guy gives him his cock.  White Afro comes to find me.  I suck his cock—and he does mine.   The two of us love going back and forth feeding each other dick.

The bigger guy gets off.  Loudly.  Finally, the clothed sucker gets the load he’s been craving.  He cleans the guy up and heads for home.  White Afro gets up from between my sprawled legs and sits.  We both watch the bigger guy head to the restroom and them outside.

We stroke.

We do another round of trading off on sucking.

We are now the only people here. 

And then White Afro goes, too.  I am alone.

But just for moments.  The bigger guy comes back from his rest break out in the parking lot.  He comes right to me—and asks to suck my cock.  I nod—and he kneels carefully, using the arms of the chair for support.  Now I have had great mouths on my dick tonight—and it continues.  His tongue is thick and drives me crazy.  He licks my balls.  He sucks my dick.  He nuzzles under my balls, lifting them with his free hand.  He huffs the smell of my aroused cock and sweaty balls.

“Lose the pants.”

I stand up and undo the belt, letting them drop.  He likes the look of my stained jock pushed out of the way and my cock jutting free.  I sit back down.  He pulls my thighs towards him, making me hunker down in the chair.  He leans in and begins licking my balls.  Soon his tongue is trailing down my perineum.  He hovers above my asshole, but comes back up to engulf my testicles in his mouth.

Then he does it all over again.

“You like this?” he murmurs.

I moan out a yes. 

He leans in and sucks my cock one more time.  He trails down to my balls.  Eash go into his mouth, individually, for a tongue bath.  He moves back to my perineum.  He licks up and down, making my hair there wringing wet.  He groans.  And his tongue goes lower.  It flicks across my pucker.  He spits.  He begins prodding my hole open so he can tongue fuck it.  I pull out the poppers in my shirt pocket.  I hold them under his nose and he takes a massive hit.  He begins rimming me in earnest.  I take a small hit—but the fumes take over.

It’s my turn to moan.  I haven’t had my ass eaten in this room in ages.  And from the sounds the guy is making he is right where he wants to be.  He burrows into me and I begin to jerk my dick.  After this marathon of play tonight, my cock is drooling.  It’s seriously red and swollen.  He comes up from my ass and sucks it once again, leaving it wet as he returns to my hole.  He pulls my cheeks apart and zeroes in with his tongue.

Fuck!  I beat my cock as he tongue fucks me, faster and faster. 

“You want my load?  I’m so damn close...”

He makes some sort of affirmative sound, muffled with my ass cheeks on either side of his mouth.  He starts moaning himself.

“Here…here it comes…”  I’m panting, barely able to get the words out.  He pulls off my asshole and devours my cock at just the right moment.  I am in him so deeply, I must be firing straight down his throat.  He holds me in place until my cock stops contracting.  He slowly pulls off me.  I see remnants of my jizz on his lips.  He licks them.  And me.  And kisses my hole one last time before he lets me move…

Saved By the Pup

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Beards, Balls and Cum: A Great Night at the Bookstore

 Near Home—July, 2026

My July started with a cancellation.  I had a fist date on July 1, but he had to re-schedule for later in the month.  I didn’t go out that night, but I did the next—retreating to the relatively cool dark room of the local bookstore after a hot July day.  I was not expecting much on a Thursday evening, but you just never know…

 

It’s crowded.  A good mix of men I recognize and men I’ve never seen before.  My usual seat is taken.  In the long row of seats on the side wall, there are two blow jobs in progress.  I sit on the short side wall, near the gay screen.  All the men there, but for the two busy sucking cock, watch me take out my dick.  I watch the cocksuckers as I stroke myself hard. 

A man with a long, full beard stands up.  His cock is out.  He is thick and curved upwards.  His ball sac is huge.  So often with guys who are all balls, it is one massive mound of hairy goodness.  This guy’s balls were huge, but still had the divide down the middle.  He stood in front of me, his balls swaying from the few steps toward me.  He nods.  I nod back.  He goes to his knees and my cock is in a hot, wet mouth and the overgrown beard is all over my own ball sac.  He’s good.  And hungry.  He is really trying for cum from the moment he starts.  He finally relaxes a little when he realizes I am not a minute man.  He pulls off my cock and treats my balls to his busy tongue.  Then it’s back to my dick until he has to get his knees off the hard concrete floor.

He offers me his cock as he stands.  I lean forward and do my best to return the favor.  His curve is a challenge I am happy to accept.  He likes what I’m doing and moves to the side so I’m not leaning forward in my chair.  He moans as my tongue explores his piss slit.  I lick and suck and swallow. 

I’ve put it off for as long as I can.  I want to lick those massive balls.  I begin and now the man with the big beard is moaning constantly.  He actually lifts his balls so I can get under them with ease.  The weight of them on my face is incredibly hot.

And now, as my tongue licks his hairy sack, there is another mouth on my cock.  I stop long enough to register that it is the man I know from here who also has a beard—and uses it to tease my wet cock and balls as he drags it across my pubic area.  He gets my cock and balls good and wet before his beard comes into play.  I continue to lick and suck Big Beard.  Soon, I feel the man’s beard who’s sucking me begin to mop we up.  I love the feel of it—and he knows I do.  He finally stands up and leaves, making Big Beard do round two on my cock.

When Big Beard has gotten his fill and sits down opposite me, another man I don’t recognize stands up.  His cock is rock hard and about the same size as mine.  He approaches.   He nods.  I nod and he goes to his knees.  I have had three men on my dick and each has felt good—but distinctly different.  It’s great.  This guy like to bury me in his throat.  Over and over.

Now he stands up and piston fucks my face.  Then to his knees again and works on me.  Again he stands up.  “Take my dick,” he grates.  I oval big and let him pound into my face.

Rock Hard disengages and sits next to me, to catch his breath.  The door opens and a tall, lanky Black man, likely in his 30’s, walks in.  He sits opposite us.  Rock Hard gets up and begins sucking me again.  This makes Tall and Lanky unzip and stroke.  I beckon him over—and he comes to give me a cock to suck as I am treated to the same.

Rock Hard comes up for air and sees me sucking the young man.  I pull off him and Rock Hard takes a turn on his cock.  Then he goes back to my bigger one and I happily suck the younger man.

“Would you eat my ass?”

Both Rock Hard and I stop what we’re doing to look at Tall and Lanky.  “Sure,” I tell him.  He strips down to his athletic socks.  He sits in my chair, hunkering down, his legs in the air and his thin arms wrapped around his knees holding them in place.  I lick his balls first—and then begin the descent.  His perineum is covered in tight, black curls.  I smell the scent of Irish Spring before I get to his hole.  I dig in.  He squirms and moans.  I begin a hard tongue fuck.  Rock Hard watches us and jerks.

“Lick my balls so I can shoot.”

I move up and do what he wants, even though I want so much more time in his hole.  He grasps his average sized cock and jerks as I lick.   He moans—and, in moments, is there.  White pools of cum on his ebony skin.  He lets me lick up the cum—but not off his sensitive dick.  Big Beard is watching.  He kneels and licks up a splatter of seed on the young man’s nipple I’d somehow missed.  Tall and Lanky squirms away from us, grabs his clothes and gets dressed in the restroom.

“I gotta shoot.”  It’s Rock Hard.  I’m still on my knees, so he walks over to me.  He jabs his cock into my mouth and instantly begins firing off a huge round of jizz.  I have to swallow fast to keep up with him…

*

That should have been the end, but I stayed.

There was a major lull as guys left or regrouped.

An older man tried to suck me, but he was all teeth.

I traded blow jobs with a slightly portly guy, who I finally recognized when he pulled out his nipple clamp chain and attached them to his nips.  I added a finger up his ass and it was now easy to get him to fill my mouth with one more load for the night.

History: Finding (and Refining) My Kinks

 As I have finished writing all about the busy month of June, I thought it would be good to return to a post about my early sexual history.

 

2001-2004

My whole sexual experience expanded in 2001 with the CDC giving the OK for oral sex.  I had licked balls and shafts when I began playing with men other than my partner in the 1990’s, but I was careful about wet contact.  Now, while not immediately looking for guys to suck off, oral sex could be incorporated into our play as a whole.  I was still condomed for every fuck.  Every time.  I was never going to break that agreement I’d made with Rob.

I also began rimming my partners.  Rob and I had eaten each other’s asses for years, but I hadn’t done it with others since the health crisis.  Now it became part of almost every bathhouse hook up.  I loved approaching a stranger lying in the sling and surprising him by going to my knees and getting his hole opened with my tongue for the latex fuck that was about to happen.

During this time, I was also brave enough to finally attend my first piss party.  I knew piss itself was sterile—and could not support HIV.  The gathering was (and is) held in a back room of a gay bar in Chicago.  I was there to drink my water and feed my piss to others.  I had no interest in drinking it myself.  I was wearing my ancient pair of holey combat boots and my dirty jock.  In my sock was a string of condoms—in case anal sex was allowed.  I let men suck my cock.  I was in a very top mode that first time and did not always reciprocate—mostly to learn what was expected.  When I finally had to piss, I asked the guy sucking me if he wanted it.  He did.  I was standing in the middle of the room as I fed him my piss.  I had enough control to make the stream stop and start again, allowing him to swallow with ease.  Then my bladder took over and I gave the rest to him in a rush.  I loved watching how he beat his long cock as he gulped me down.  When I finally dribbled out the last drop, the guy stood up and leaned in to kiss me.  Why not? I thought.  Our mouths met and he fed me a huge mouthful of my own piss.  I was so turned on I shot a load.  He laughed and then cleaned my cock.  I sat back down.  Stunned.  And determined to drink from the tap before I left.  My hardon returned with the first gusher down my throat.  I don’t know how much I drank that first night, but I loved it.  (And I fucked a guy in the back corner—though technically, back then, we weren’t supposed to do that…)

I was still going south for work in the fall.  While there, I made a visit to the bathhouse in Atlanta.  It had no play area back then—everything was in the private rooms with the door firmly shut.  I had a pleasant time—but was in no hurry to go back.

When I was home and working in Michigan, I made a weekend trip to Toronto.  I began exploring the many bathhouses of that great city—many of which are gone now.  I loved Canadian men—who felt more uninhibited to me. And had so much foreskin to play with…

Closer to home, the Diplomat of Grand Rapids, opened a second location in Toledo.  My membership was good for either one.  And Toledo was a little closer—and the newer facility felt cleaner.  I spent lots of weekends there.  Room rental was good for 12 hours.  Play and sleep and play again before going out to breakfast and then renewing the room for another day.  I loved letting the retired State Trooper (he always brought up his former job) suck me off in the sauna.  I enjoyed seeing different men than the habitues of the other facility.

But the Toledo Diplomat did not have a sling.  The management always told me it was coming—but it never did.  But that didn’t stop a creative top who wanted one.  As is typical in a bathhouse, none of the walls of the individual room went to the ceiling (so you could hear each other fuck…) By standing on the bed, I could reach the top of the wall.  I bought two C clamps and would screw them in place on the wall over the head of the bed.  I then tied rope to them.  The other end of each strand had leather dog collars tied to them.  The collars went around the ankles of the bottom.  I could adjust the rope to the comfort of the bottom being trussed up, legs in the air, to fuck.  I left the door open as I plowed my first ass this way—and I became even more popular.  All the guys wanted to try it.

*

On the homefront, Rob was drinking even more.  He was a true functioning alcoholic at this point.  He was also finding more work away from me—so he could keep on doing it.  If he was home, my long weekends away were very much because I didn’t want to be around him—and watch him self-destruct.  He still would not admit there was any kind of problem with what he was doing to himself.

*

The other incredible change in 2001 was Manhunt.  I heard about the ‘dating’ site at one bathhouse or the other.  I had a computer—and found it.  Those early years were amazing.  Everyone wanted to meet.  I attended (and even set up) hotel parties—and guys turned out.   Even in my sparsely populated area of Michigan, you could find men.

Manhunt was responsible for my meeting and cultivating a long sex partnership with a man who lived in the town where I grew up.  He taught at one of the Universities—and was a pig, albeit a safer sex pig.  He was the first man I knew who owned a sling.  He’d fashioned his basement into a play room.   He had been a top in a relationship, but found his bottom side after his partner was gone.  This is where I truly refined my fisting technique.  We met almost every Monday.  He had other partners on the weekend—that he made sure I never met.   We fucked and fisted—a lot.  Occasionally joined by a top that he knew wouldn’t give me his ass.

My new playmate, Jack, also loved leather.  On my own, I had bought one piece, a codpiece, that had not been fitted to me properly (I know now.)  He encouraged me to get a harness.  And I did.  He thought I’d look good in chaps, but the readymade garments were never long enough for my long legs. He found a leather tailor in Chicago—and I went for a fitting while on a play weekend with Jack in the city.

He was a good friend.  And taught me a lot.  He was open to other kinks—and we tried a bunch of stuff.  As this was concurrent with my discovering watersports, he let me piss on his hole and lick it off.  His toy collection grew—and I loved the variety of things I could put up his shapely ass.

During this time, long before texting, I was in only occasional contact with my brother, living and working in New York City.  My parents were now wintering in Aruba.  They really wanted to take their two boys to the island and show them the timeshare they had.   We could never go during their months there due to our work schedules.  But eventually we went at a different time of year—and stayed at a similar property. 

We went for a walk over to view their condo.  It was nice and I could see why they spent Michigan winters here. Then my parents took us to their favorite part of the beach.  My mother seemed oblivious—but it was the gay section of the beach.   Almost all men, with the occasional topless female. (I proved it was the gay section by taking a walk into the underbrush and fucking an incredibly hot islander on the hood of his car, once he’d given me a Magnum.)

That night, after the parents were in bed, my brother and I sat on the veranda with a bottle of scotch and had a long talk about sex—our first in almost 15 years.  I told him I was going to the piss party in Chicago.  He told me he had helped start the piss group in NYC.  I told him about my love of leather.  He told he’d been a leather man since his move to the city.  I told him about how adept I’d become at fist.  He agreed that he loved working an ass that way.  We were so alike it was slightly frightening.  Both tops.  Both heavily into kink. Both in relationships that allowed us to have a homelife—and play with other men.  It was after that night that I began getting the best birthday presents from him:  speculums, toys, and the like. 

Even better, we were in close contact again.