"Do You Feel Like Fucking?"

 Near Home—February, 2026

 

Saturday nights at the bookstore have suddenly become a habit with me.  It’s a good mixed crowd of men I’ve seen occasionally in my usual afternoon visits and a whole crop of men who are strangers. 

I was still not totally recovered from how tired my bout with the flu had left me, but thought I’d be fine in this kind of crowd.  I arrived right around 7pm…

 

There are quite a few cars in the lot.  I go in, pay and am buzzed through the door to the dark theatre.  There are eight men here.  My usual seat is taken so I sit on the long wall, so with a turn of my head, I can see either screen.

There is no overt activity at the moment, but there is lots of kneading of swollen crotches.  I unzip and harden up.  I stroke.  Two other men breathe a sigh of relief and follow suit.  I love that I just gave them permission to jack.

The door opens and the man I’ve known from this establishment for years comes in.  He’s tall and thin, moderately hairy and likes to get naked.  He sits next to me and moments later stands up and strips down.

A third man frees his hard cock to stroke it.

My bookstore acquaintance watches both screens.  He hardens up fast.  He stands up and feeds me his dick.  He doesn’t ask, he just likes my mouth and wants to use it.  I suck him—and make a show of it.

One of the strokers comes over.  He kneels and begins sucking my cock as I work on the dick in my mouth.  Having a good mouth on me when I am sucking is one of my favorite things to do in the bookstore.  The guy on me is good.  He does my often-overlooked balls, too.  He jerks himself.  Hard and fast.

Suddenly he stands up.  “May I…?” he asks the guy in my mouth.  One cock withdraws and the other enters—and just in time.  He gives me his pent-up load in moments.  I swallow, lick him clean and go back to cock number one.

One of the strokers shoots on the floor and leaves.

“Do you feel like fucking?” my longtime acquaintance asks.

“Sure.”

He bends, holding onto the arms of the chair.  I stand up, lube up and push in.  I remember that he does not like to be fucked hard.  I give him a slow, buddy fuck.  He takes all of me, loving how my cock always hits his prostate.  He strokes himself in time with my thrusts—but soon his cock wilts and he just luxuriates in feeling full.

I know I won’t get off, but I keep it up for a long time.  The men stroking watch us as much as the porn.

Finally, I pull out.  He thanks me.  I go to wash up, not because I need to, but to let any other potential cocksuckers there know that I have.  When I get back, my acquaintance is dressed.  He thanks me and takes off.

I stroke for a long time.  One other man shoots into a fast-food napkin.  The others, but for one, just zip up and leave, piecemeal, over the next 30 minutes.

The place is now empty but for a man jerking to the straight porn.  I’ve clocked him throughout the night.  He has never looked in my direction during any of the sex I’ve had.  Not once.  But he loves to watch tiny young white women be ravaged by big black dick on the screen.

The door opens.  Road Worker comes in, his shaggy blond hair streaming down his neck.  He nods to me and goes to the darkest corner, a position where you can only see the straight screen.  And fairly close to the Hetro stroker.

Road Worker strips but for his knit cap and work socks.  He sits.  He gets hard and strokes.  I stand up and go over, smirking to myself that the Hetro stroker will not look at us.  I kneel and begin sucking Road Worker.  He skootches down in the seat, so his ass is right at the front.  His legs shoot up in the air.  He strokes his cock and hisses “Lick my balls!”

I do.  As I bend to do it my cock ‘accidentally’ brushes across his hole.  He sighs.  I lick his fairly hairless ball sack.  It is pulled up very tight against him.  He jerks faster as my tongue goes from one nut to the other.

“Fuck me,” he whispers.  “Hard.”

I lube up and slide in.  I let him take a huge hit of poppers.  I start slowly but build almost instantly to a hard fuck.  He takes it and begins to groan.  “Do it.  Make me cum…” he moans.

It is always over before I want it to be with Road Worker.  He shoots all over his abs.  He literally pushes me out of his ass with a hand to my chest and a twist of his lithe body.  He races to the restroom.

I stay, kneeling where I was and panting.

Hetro jerker stands up.  He moves two steps to me and shoves his generous cock in my mouth.  It explodes on contact.  It’s a massive load.  I grab his balls so he can’t get free and he has to let me lick him clean.  And he does.  I lick up any stray jizz.

He grunts.  I take it as a thank you.

He leaves, stuffing his wet cock away.

I am still on my knees as the door slams shut…

The Hunt and Pecker Method

 

And now you know why it takes me so long to type each post…

Making Him Piss with Each Fuck

 My Playroom—February, 2026

I got a text from a man I had played with in a group situation, almost two years ago.  I don’t know if I had given him my number or he’d asked the hosts for it.  I was fine with a rematch and we set a date for him to come to the playroom.

In the write-up of our first meet, I had called him Cumpisser as he’d had prostate surgery and could no longer produce semen, but if your dick batterer his prostate often enough, he would shoot piss streams all over himself.

As we started, we had a couple moments of not meshing easily.  He wanted the porn turned up as the space heater was drowning it out.  It’s a hassle with this particular television set up, but I did it.  He began sucking my cock as he sat on the bed—and asked me to remove my used and fragrant jock.  I did, sighing.  And then we settled down into a fun session…

 

His mouth is good.  I am now hard and ready.  He’s impatient, in a good way, to get to anal play.  I suggest the flattened fuck bench.  Cumpisser gets on all fours.  I go to my knees and eat his hole.  It flowers open with no work at all.  I lap and poke and spit.  He groans.  I know he wants my cock and I give it to him.

I stand up, sliding in until my balls are slapping his ass.  He gasps.  I fuck.  I find his spot.  Piss pools on the bench.  In the time since we played, he’s worked on opening his hole.  I add the eggheaded dildo in the first five minutes of our fucking.  My cock loves the feel of my trusted double fuck toy.  CP loves being filled this way and groans appreciatively.

I work the black toy out and grab the Ballistic Butt Bomb off the shelf.  I grease it with coconut oil and, with a circular motion bury it in his hole.  My cock follows.  It is still a hot novelty for me to use this stainless-steel ball on a slim pole as a double fuck toy.  My cock loves battering into the head—and the slim pole feels wonderfully smooth under my cock and especially under my balls.

We move to the sling to get him off his knees.  He grabs a towel to contain the piss.  I eat his hole and fuck him again.  I use the BBB once more, sliding my cock into him with it in place.  He groans, watching me do it in the mirror above the sling.  The towel absorbs another round of piss.

I move on to the clear dildo with the black handle.  Despite its unprepossessing appearance, guys love it inside them.  CP is no exception.  He blisses out—and pisses and pisses.  I work it a little faster—than go back to my dick.

The Seahorse is next.  He loves the rough texture of the toy.  He takes it deep, whether the curve is up and down.

I do another round of fucking.  His hole is really stretched now.  I re-use the eggheaded dildo to tighten him back down.  I move on to the toy that is a series of pyramids, that act like a string of butt plugs.  I realize as his ass devours it, I should have used it sooner.  It just slips into him now.

I have a sip of hot tea and pick up the speculum.  I slide it into his well-used hole and begin the slow crank open.  CP’s eyes get big.  He loves the stretch.  “I’ve never had one of these before.”  I stop and take pictures for him.   I put my phone down and stand up.  He’s not expecting me to slide my hard cock into him.  I fuck him, speculum in place, harder and harder.  I want him to piss—and I’m pleased when he does.

I pull out and close the speculum.  I now reuse every toy that has been in him today.  Somewhere in the middle of this round, his bladder runs dry.  I ask if he wants water—but he’s fine.

I pull out one last toy, the black dildo with a handle.  He wants to see how deep he can take it.  The shaft has three bulges in it.  He takes the first two, about 8 inches of the possible 12.  I pull out, re-grease and try again.  No deeper.

I go back to the Seahorse.  He groans.  And then tells me his hole is done for the day.  He heads up to the shower, to rinse off all that piss.

I am pleased at the re-connect and rather glad he has called an end to the session.  I am tired.  Post flu, I still do not have my usual stamina back…

*

The toys.

I am not sharing the pics of the speculum.  Sorry.

A link to our first meet:  Four Wet Pigs in a Playroom

Picture Perfect

 

I have another day filled with appointments and errands.  As I have no time to write, I don’t think any of you will mind viewing a few pictures…

I should be back on Sunday, as usual.

 

And sometimes they just don’t need to be naked…

Valentine's Day Cock

 Near Home—February, 2026

 

Two days after my last post, it was Valentine’s Day.  And a Saturday night.  I was horned—and I wondered if there would be other unattached men feeling the same way at my local bookstore.  I arrived around 7pm.  It was a small crowd at first…

 

I sit in my usual chair.  There is a very hot, young, bearded guy kneading the crotch of his jeans, sitting to the side so he can see both screens.  There is also a balding guy, short and scrawny who is around my age and can’t take his eyes off the young man.  Sitting to my right is a tall guy in his 40’s.  He has his dick out when I arrive but puts it away when he eyes the bearded young man. 

I stroke.  The hot young man finally takes out his dick.  It’s a nice, almost seven-incher.  The tall guy is up and out of his chair.  He goes to the young man and reaches for his cock with a whispered “Let me suck that for you.”

The young man wriggles away and explodes.  “Ask before you touch me, fucker!”  He carries on in the same vein—and very loudly— as the tall guy backs off and eventually out of the room.  The young guy’s not wrong, but it feels performative, like he was just waiting for someone to cross the line.  “Nobody touches me without my permission,” he sums up.  True enough, but a simple “No thanks” would have worked.

I stroke.  I have no desire to play with him now, even if I go about it correctly.  But he likes to watch me, so he comes over and sits closer, but with a few chairs between us.   The bald guy follows and sits between us.

We all stroke to the straight porn.  The bald guy finally asks the young man if he can touch his cock.  We get a second round of lecture—but as the guy asked, he is rewarded with a moment of stroking the thin, long shaft.  The young guy asks him to stop.  It’s obvious that he’s on the edge of blowing his load.

The young man gets up and goes around the corner and sits near the gay screen, out of my range of vision.  The bald guy follows.  I hear him ask again—and he’s granted permission.  In moments, I hear the young guy shoot all over the guy’s hand.  The young one leaves.  Bald Guy accepts my offer of a piece of paper towel to clean up.  Once his hand is clean, he frees his pent-up cock.  It’s just a little smaller than the young man’s hard dick. 

“You want to suck it?” he asks.  He’s standing to my left so I won’t have to even get on my knees.  I nod and he steps closer.  He’s really excited from stroking the young man’s cock.  He gives me a big load in less than two minutes.  He goes off to the restroom and leaves.

I stroke.

Three men come in.  One is a regular, around my age, who pulls out his phone.  Another man, slightly younger than me, who’s been on my dick before, sits across the room from me, eyeing my cock and kneading his own.  The third man is a hot Black guy in his 30’s who sits as far away from everyone else as he can get—but pulls out a gorgeous cock.  He wanks out a load in under five minutes, watching the straight video.

The guy who’s sucked me nods to me.  I nod back.  Maybe for the benefit of the Black guy who’s still mopping up his dick, the guy gets out of his seat and crawls across the floor to my spread legs and hard cock.  (The guy on his phone never looks up.)  To his credit, the Black guy watches as my cocksucker knocks away my hand and takes me deep into his mouth and throat.  I close my eyes and revel in how good this cocksucker feels.  He has a thick tongue and it is everywhere.  He deep throats me repeatedly, leaving my dick awash in his spittle.

He moves to my balls.  “Get those pants down—I want under them.”

I unbuckle my belt and slide them to my knees.  I hunker down in the seat to give him better access.  He makes a show of pulling my balls up and begins licking my cock ring under there.  The Black Guy stands up.  He watches another moment and takes off.  My sucker flirts with licking my asshole, but stops just above it.  He works back up—taint, balls, shaft, drooling cock head.  He suckles the precum out of me.

Suddenly he stands up and feeds me his cock.  It’s just a shade smaller than mine.  He groans as my tongue goes to work.  He’s precumming, too, and I’m glad that he shares it.  But he really wants to suck—and in moments is back on his knees.

But he’s tiring, I can feel it.  “Don’t you ever cum?” he whispers, plaintively. 

He suddenly stands up, zips up and goes out the door.

I stroke.

I’ve now been here about two hours.   And the room is filling up.  The door keeps opening and admitting men—all ages, but most above 40.  But it’s a very different crowd.  I have never seen any of the of the dozen or so men who are here.  They are all watching the straight video.  One, who sat in front of the gay screen at first, realizes what he’s seeing and finds the last seat, next to me, for the straight side.

And not one of them takes out their cock.  There is not even any kneading, just an occasional adjustment.  I surmise that some of these guys might play—but not with so many other men as witnesses.  I am the only man masturbating.  There is not even a sidelong glance at me.

Do I stay?  I look at the very staid crowd once more.  I get up, push my hard dick into my pants and go wash my hands.  I check the room once again, standing in the restroom door.  There is no air of sexual energy anywhere but on the screen where the woman is taking a massive Black dick.  I sigh and go out the door…

Jack Returns to the Playroom

 My Playroom—February, 2026

 

I don’t know if it was from sitting in a hospital room for two days or from my night at the sex club, but I caught the flu at the top of February. I was down with it for a good five days—and then another week of just feeling so tired (and hacking the massive amount of phlegm out of my lungs) I couldn’t even begin to think about play.

For the blog’s sake, I was glad I’d had such a busy January.   I didn’t test the waters of my recovery until February was almost half over.  I had gotten a text I did not want to pass up.  Jack, a sex pig near my age, was back in the area.  We’d had great sex when he was working here in 2022 and 2023.  He wanted to re-connect.  And so did I.  I told him about my recent round with flu.  I knew I wasn’t contagious at this point, but told him I might not have as much energy as usual.  He was eager to take the chance…

 

Jack is at the door.  He looks great.  He just a little shorter than me.  His hair is buzzed.  The job keeps him in good shape.  We hug the moment the door is closed and I lead the way down the basement stairs.  I leave him to strip down as I go up to my bedroom to do the same.

I go back down, now in my jock, boots and robe.  I hang the robe on the doorknob.  Jack is sitting, naked but for socks (with the cool floor) on the bed.  I stuff my lube in the waistband of my jock and go over to him.

He inhales deeply.  He loves the scent of my used jock.  He nuzzles into the pouch, making my cock swell.  His breath is hot on my hardening dick.  He pulls the fabric to one side and takes me into his mouth.  Deep and wet.  He moans and pulls off me.  “It’s been so long…”

He begins to give me excellent head.  He actually makes me pant as he swallows me to the root.  His tongue is all over me, but often in my piss slit as I begin juicing up. 

Now he lifts my balls and begins licking under them.  He gets me very wet before he suckles my testicles into his mouth.  Individually.  Giving them a thorough cleaning. 

Jack is back up to my dick.  He deep throats me with ease and pulls off me, grinning.  I can’t help but smile.  I tell him to get on the fuck bench, that is currently in the flat position.  I can’t wait to eat his ass.

The moment he’s on all fours, I go to my knees behind him and bury my face in his ass.  His cheeks have a light down but the crack is quite hairy.  I lick the entire length of it before I zero in on his hole.  I begin a hard tongue fucking and it gives way to me easily, flowering open.  He groans and hits his brand-new bottle of poppers.  I tongue fuck him for a long time.  Though my cock is telling me he wants to fuck, I ignore him and keep eating his hole.  Eventually, I stand up, greased with coconut oil, and slide into him.  I fuck him slowly.  His eyes find the mirror to the side.  He loves watching me pump my dick into his hot ass.

I step up the tempo.  My balls slap his ass as I bury myself in him deeper and deeper.  I pull out and bring my wet cock to his mouth.  He devours it, savoring the taste of his sweet ass jizz.  I go back and fuck—and bring him my wet cock once more.  He is just as hungry.  This time he not only cleans the shaft, but suckles on each damp ball.

We move to the sling.  His ass is gaping slightly.  I kneel and begin tonguing him again.  Fuck, I love eating a hole that has been fucked!  His juices, my precum, the coconut oil…I groan out my pleasure.

I stand up and fuck.  Hard and fast.  He watches the assault on his ass in the mirror above.  His cock is half erect.  He squeezes it.  I pull out and bring my wet dick to his mouth.  He cranes around and tastes himself all over my cock.  It’s his turn to moan.

I eat his hole. 

I fuck it. 

I eat his hole and fuck it again.  This time when I pull out, I have to go and sit on the bed.  I don’t have my usual sex energy after all.  Jack swings out of the sling.  He sits next to me and gives me a hug.  “Why don’t you lie down in the sling.  I want to eat your ass.”

I get into it.  He kneels and begins tonguing around my tight hole.  Soon he is tongue fucking me.  I take a hit of poppers and just let myself float away.  This is just what I needed and Jack is loving what he’s doing.  I even adjust the stirrups so they are behind my head, tilting my ass up and giving his tongue a better angle.  Another hit of poppers and I am babbling about how good he is making me feel.

We switch and I do a short fuck of Jack’s wet ass.  But he wants more of me.  He orders me to lie down on the bed.  He sucks my cock briefly, then rolls me over and devours my hole from a new vantage point.  He can’t get as deep this way, but we both love the feel of what he’s doing.  Mid lick, he hands me his poppers and I take a hit.  I get lost in the fumes and the incredible sensations he is giving the nerve endings around my hole.

He comes up for a breather.  “Could we switch to the rim seat?”  I get up and pull it out.  We both want to go under it first.  I let him win.  He lies on the mat and I sit on the seat.  Now his tongue can go as deep as he wants.  I am achingly hard. 

I get up and fuck him, his legs on my shoulders, as he lies there.  Then I sit back down on his face.  He groans as he begins doing to me with his tongue what I just did to him with my dick.

We reverse.  Having his wet hole plastered to my face is incredible.  He grinds down on me—and I have to stop touching my cock or I will shoot right there.  I get his hole even wetter—and tell him to get in the sling.  He’s in it and ready before I can fully stand up.

A quick lick.  He poppers up as I tongue him.  The moment I hear the cap go on the bottle, I stand up and plow into him.

“Breed me!” he moans.

I am so close.  It’s a wave that can’t quite break.  I eat his hole again.  I slide in and begin fucking once more. 

“Fuck!”

“Give it to me…”

And I’m there.  I shoot for the first time in two weeks.  I flood his guts.  I marinate in his ass for a long time.  I pull out and kneel.  A trickle of cum is about to drip onto the towel below.  My tongue catches it—and digs into him for more…

*

It was great to re-connect with Jack.  And I’m so glad I wrote this today, as he’s coming back in two days…

A Housefull of Gay Men

 I am returning to my checkered history today.  We are in the fall of 1979.

 

My summer job had gone well.  I was in two musicals and a play that starred one of my college professors.  For housing, I had been given a grungy room above a lawyer’s office and shared it with a guy who went to my university, but who I barely knew.  I was hoping I might be able to stay on at the theatre, but they were not doing anything that suited my particular talents.  I went home and lived with my parents for a few weeks.

Rob had also had a very busy summer—playing too many big roles in quick succession and he was exhausted.  While I had graduated, Rob, though older, had not.  (He had changed majors and lost a tremendous number of credits.  And he had to work part time.) 

He called me, once he figured out I must be home.  He was now living on the upper floor of a house in our college town.  His roommates were Theo and the guy who had lived with me that summer.  I went to visit.  It was good to see Rob again.  After a quick 69 in his bedroom—we emerged.  Theo was all smiles.  They asked if I wanted to move in.  I told them my big news.  I’d just gotten a two-show gig at a dinner theatre in west Michigan. 

But I told them I would be happy to be here, if they wanted me, once the second show closed right after Christmas.  They all nodded and we went out to the bar…

*

I loved the dinner theatre.  It was an old mill before it had been converted to a restaurant and theatre.  We rehearsed on the third floor, lived on the second, performed on the main floor and built sets in the basement.  It was everything I wanted—and they were doing good productions.  Not dinner theatre schlock. 

Rob came to see the shows.  He was unhappy at the university and missed me.  He was thinking he might not bother to graduate at all.

By January of 1980, my contract had ended and I needed work.  I went to see Rob.  The housemates asked if I wanted to move in.  I did.  I was settled, needing to bring next to nothing but clothes, by the end of the week.

I needed a job.  Rob took me to where he worked.  The building was a gorgeous (and huge) Victorian house in the middle of town.  It was now an educational research foundation and they had just published a best-selling book.  They needed a shipping clerk.  Rob’s boss loved the arts (she’d come with Rob to see me perform at the dinner theatre.)  She loved me and adored Rob.  She hired me on the spot and I spent my days packaging and mailing books all over the world.  Rob was there when not in class.

It was a great test for our relationship.  Being together for almost 24 hours a day required some adjustment, but we loved it.  We were in our second year of being together—and still loved being around each other.  It worked.  Really well.

The apartment was cramped—but with all those gay men in it (the guy who lived with me earlier, finally came out) there was very little drama.  Rob and I had each other.  Theo was no longer seeing my brother and was hanging around a gay guy I knew from our high school years.  It all worked out just fine.

Things got even better when a woman who’d graduated with me called and asked me to do a dinner theatre production.  I could stay on at the office as the musical only rehearsed at night.  It was in metro Detroit, so an easy trip.  And the added paycheck certainly helped.

By summer, Rob had decided he’d had enough of the university.  We parted again, both going back to the summer theatres we’d performed at the year before.  This year, I had a great featured role, but was also asked to assistant direct.  The two men who ran the company liked what I did.  They asked me to direct the first show of the fall season there.  And they needed another guy in the cast…and I suggested Rob, who had just finished his less stressful summer stock season.  They loved him, of course…

Everything was going really well.  All this time, Rob and I were writing a show.  The dinner theatre in west Michigan wanted to premiere it.  After my first directing job, we went back to the dinner theatre.  Together now.  We worked with the director there to get our fledgling musical into shape.

Another show opened before ours went into production.  We attended the opening.  Rob was entranced by the look of a guy at a table near us.  He was tall, thin, and blond (Sound familiar?  That was me back then…) He went over to chat.  And again after the show.  Then they had a drink in the bar.  I joined them for a bit before going to bed.

I woke up.  Rob was still not there.  I went to the restroom and pissed.  I could here a bed creak.  The current show had a very small cast—and no one was living in the rooms next to the showers.  I opened the door.  Rob and the critic, both naked, were sprawled on the single bed—and Rob was giving the guy head.

I shut the door and went back to bed.  This hurt.  We’d been very upfront with each other about our occasional need for other men.  We had established our 100 mile rule before I went to Texas.  If we were working that close to each other, we better be doing each other; if farther afield, then we were both fine with finding relief as needed.  I was 50 yards away…

Rob came in and apologized.  Alcohol and someone cute. 

I looked at him.  “It’s not that you were sucking somebody else.  It’s the deception.  Just tell me.”

He nodded. 

“And I was right here.  Why would you not invite me to join?  I would love to have a threeway…”

“The guy suggested that just as you shut the door…”

We worked through it.  (And he worked on my cock for a long time that night…)  It was a tiny hiccup—and in retrospect a good thing, for we began talking more about what (and who) we wanted…