CLAW—Warehouse Party Number Two—Sharing Hole

Cleveland—April, 2013

I woke up in plenty of time to grab a late dinner, read a little, and get dressed for the second warehouse party. 

 When I’d been online earlier in the day, I’d talked to a fuck bud who lives in Cleveland.  We had met in Detroit—the month I’d had two gangbangs. Bob wanted to do it again.  I convinced him it would be better for him to accompany me to the warehouse.  I’d had little luck in getting men to commit to a private group in the main hotel last year.  He agreed to try the warehouse party.  I hoped he’d have enough cock to satisfy him and that he wouldn’t be too fussy about who was giving it to him…

 I arrive at 11:00pm.  Doors have been open for an hour.  There are maybe 20 guys in the space.  I remove my flight suit, re-tie my chaps and adjust my cock inside the jock.  The clothes check attendant tries not to stare, but he can’t take his eyes off the swollen pouch of my yellow jock.  I head into the darkened room to see if I can find Bob.  He greets me from right inside the door.  We talk a little, than go right to the only fuckbench.  It’s wooden, but with some comfortable padding for his knees and stomach.  Bob is just a little younger than I, with dark hair on his head and everywhere else on his body.  He’s wearing a leather jock, a baseball cap and boots.

We talk a little.  He sucks my cock even less.  He climbs right up on the bench.  No one is paying any attention to us as I fall to my knees, between his protruding boots, and start to lick his furry ass.  He tastes great—hot and wet, salty and slightly metallic.  My cock grows.  I pull my lube from the waistband of my chaps and use the tiniest amount on my cock.  I can’t wait.  I stand up and slip it into him. 

The sound of my fucking draws a crowd.  Not just the 20 who were here earlier, but guys who have been arriving while my face was buried in his hole.  Hands are all over his back, all over my ass, all over my balls.  A handsome man in his 40’s works a thick dick out of his designer backless underwear and sticks it in Bob’s mouth.  Guys are stroking themselves or each other.  At the moment no one else has bent over to take advantage of all the hard flesh in this cubicle.  I pull out, spit in his hole and offer it to the man in Bob’s mouth.  Before he can move around, a trucker type, in just boots and a leather vest, is up Bob’s ass and pounding hard.  The handsome man waits his turn and a really young guy puts his cock into Bob’s mouth.

I watch the trucker.  Some guy I can’t see is sucking Bob’s ass juice off my cock.  That is just what I do to the Trucker as he pulls out and takes a breather.  The handsome man pushes in.  He groans and says, “Nice and wet.”  The words redouble the activity in our cubicle.  Another bottom I know from Michigan is bending over a bar stool and taking some of the cock waiting for Bob. 

No one is trying to get off.  It’s all about sampling ass and mouth.  I move around to Bob’s empty mouth and let him suck me.  Eventually I pull out and bend over to whisper in his ear:  “That was the fifth cock up you.  And you don’t even know what they look like…”

He grunts a response.  I take a brief turn up him again.  I let a patient leather Daddy up him next.  I’d noticed him at the beginning.  His cock is beer can thick.  I squirt lube on him and he inserts himself into Bob roughly with a “Take my dick, boy.”

Bob can only grunt around whoever is in his mouth at this point.

I fuck the Michigan bottom right there, so I can keep track of Bob.

By the time I’ve had enough from this other guy, I go to Bob’s ear again and whisper, “You’ve had at least ten guys up you.”  He grunts something I can’t hear—but the look on his face tells me the story.  Bliss.  “I have to go piss.”

I do—all over the cute boy from last night who always dominates the piss area.  I let my major stream play all over his cock—which is just a smidgeon smaller than mine. 

There is one guy watching me piss.  He looks ready to unload.  “All over you?” he asks the cute one. 

“Or down my throat,” I tell him.

He chooses my throat.  It’s great and my only mega load of the night.  He can’t stop himself—and I don’t need him to, I swallow it all, a delicious light, sweet brew of second hand beer and maybe a little soda.

I go back to Bob, past both crosses which are busy and loud.  There are still at least 12 guys in the room.  Quite a number fuck him, go off and come back for a second or third round during this first two hours--where Bob really never moves.  Just once he stands up to stretch, and gets pushed back in place for a new dick. 

Then the tall good looking guy who was my first fuck last night arrives.  He lays on his back on one of the swinging platform slings.  Suddenly his cubicle is as full as ours had been earlier.  We are left with one straggler, still fucking Bob.  He shoots a load.  He pulls out—he’s wearing a condom.  He takes it off carefully.

“Give it here.”  He looks at me, but does as he’s told.

I hold it over Bob’s hole, push my fingers deep into his ass, turning it inside out deep in his guts.  All three of us are delighted at this.  While the others all crowd around the new ass, I am left with a felching job.  Then I fuck in the remains.  Then more felching.

We walk and talk.

I fuck others.

I fuck my thin, handsome bud from yesterday.  He tells me Bob can have all the loads---the chemicals of semen in either of his holes give him a terrible headache.  Bob, of course, is thrilled.  He goes back to the bench.  A few guys follow wanting more of his hot hole.

I piss again.  Pissing with me, all over a second boy there now, is a guy who looks a lot like Chad Brock.  For a moment I think it might be.  But it’s not.  And who cares.  He’s hotter than fuck—and wants me to fuck him.  We head to the fuck bench.

I eat his hole.  He’s had a load before he got there.  I taste it.  I swallow a little, but keep most in his ass for lube.  I am rampant.  I am up him.  He barks at me to fuck him harder.  I do.  Faster he tells me.  I do.  A friend of his, with an incredible Rip Van Winkle beard, comes over to spread the cheeks of the man on the bench.  I pound.  He vocalizes loudly, but it can hardly be heard over the sounds of over 100 leather guys playing. 

Rip VW takes a turn up his pal’s hole.  He works his long, PA’ed cock up him.  “You shoot?” he asks me.  “There’s load up there.”  

I tell him it’s not mine.  He fucks a while longer, then the thought of the load is too strong for him.  He bends over and tongues the hole we’ve both fucked.  Soon he is twirling his beard (which is mid-chest length) into a thin strand.  He starts to work his beard up the man’s hole.  With each shove of his fingers, his chin is brought closer to his pal’s butt.  I hunker down next to him to watch the process.  His beard is gone.  His chin fills the cleft of the ass.  He pulls out.  He moves around and lets the bottom chew on his beard—to taste all the cum it’s brought out of his hole—a hole I am now tonguing.  RVW comes back around and does it again.  I watch fascinated.  This time, he gives me his beard to suck and chew.  I hesitate only a moment.  I suck all the semen out of his beard.  And then kiss RVW.  Then the bottom, who has gotten up to mash his tongue into both our mouths. 

We fuck some more. 

I felch another load from Bob.  Creamy and thick.  He tells me he's taken at least 18 men up his ass.

It’s now 3:00 am. 

Both Bob and I are ready to go home.  We go up to the sling, high on the platform and in the spotlight.  I fuck him.  I am joined by RVW, the piss boy (who seems to be a great top) and another hot bearded fucker.  We all take turns on Bob.  He’s jerking himself.

After we’ve all used his hole, I start the second round. 

And I’m there.  I shoot.  I can’t stop.  I hang onto the frame for dear life.  The other guys are all over me.  I let RVW clean my cock.  The bearded fucker felches.  I think RVW and the other bearded guy kiss….but I really don’t know.  I am lying on top of Bob and kissing him.

CLAW Day Two--Throwing the Pup a Bone

Cleveland—April, 2013

I was up earlier than I wanted to be.

I left the warehouse at about 3am.  I was hoping to sleep in.  I hadn’t counted on the descent of the maid service at 7:20am.  I’d remembered to put my Do Not Disturb sign out so no one knocked on my door, but I was awakened by hooting and hollering as carts collided in the outer hallway.  Clean sheets were tossed, room numbers doled out at full voice and my door acted as a conduit to it all.  I pulled a pillow over my head, but it was no good.  I was awake.  And Hungry.  After expending all that energy last night, I gave up on sleep and pulled on my flight suit to go down to the complimentary breakfast buffet.

There is little else like looking up from your plate of the obligatory scrambled eggs and catching the eye of the man who had pissed a river down your throat just 5 hours ago.  He grinned.  I smiled.  And my cock twitched as I remembered the taste of his recycled gin and tonic.

I went upstairs with an extra coffee and wrote up the Warehouse post.

I got dressed and went to the main hotel.  I was too early for the vendor mart by 20 minutes.  I killed time looking through the silent auction items.  And there he was.  Jayson Park was sitting reading the CLAW yearbook.  We hug.  We talk about the man he’s meeting for the weekend.  We talk about my night last night.  We agreed to see if we can meet up later.

I do the leather mart, making some notes for later shopping.

A sandwich. 

And I’m ready to fuck.

I contact the boy who has been so hot to jump in the sling for a piss fuck while we were six states apart. But I can hear it in his voice, he’s not that excited, at least right now.  We agree to meet at the Warehouse party instead.  (He never shows.)

I get online.  Many CLAW guys, while online, are not in town yet on this Friday afternoon.  The locals who write me all have an excuse when we get down to it-- too early, too late, or the lack of parking in the city.  I am ready to sign off when I catch a newly posted quick connect on bbrt.  A youngish looking man is looking for loads in the host hotel.  It takes just two exchanges and I walk back to the Hilton armed with his room number.

 

I knock. 

The boy looks just like his pictures.  He’s late 30’s, with dark, longish hair.  Jake is shirtless, showing off a trim build, without any hint of being muscular.  The room has two unmade double beds.  And enough hardware laid out on the television table for a yard sale.  His Master is into edge play.  And he must like his puppies.  There are two dog’s tail butt plugs, tucked half under the screen, as well. 

We kiss lightly.  He removes his gym shorts.  His tiny penis gets hard as I remove my boots.

The door opens.

It’s his Master.  And the number two boy who lives in this triad.  They get dressed to go out to dinner as I remove the rest of my clothes and Jake settles between my legs to suck my cock.  For a moment it’s hard for me to concentrate on the task at hand with the Master chatting away to number two, but soon my cock takes over.

Jake comes up for air. 

“Call us when you are ready for dinner.”  And they are out the door.

Alone, I get Jake on all fours.  I kneel and eat out his hole.  He is fresh from the shower.  The hair surrounding his asshole is still damp.  I am rampant.  I work slowly into him.  He gasps, but takes my cock like a pro—until the last 2 inches.  He pulls away—as if I’d shoved a cattle prod up his butt.

“I’m not used to big dick.”  He pulls me down on the bed and sucks me.  When I am covered in his spit, he sits on me.  Again, he’s doing great when he’s bouncing on just half of me.   I thrust up.  He is off me in a heartbeat.  He rolls over, his face in the pillows.  I eat his freshly fucked hole.  He’s a self luber and he tastes great.  I work in again, slowly, with him flat on the bed.  I don’t use my full length—don’t even try—and get a good fuck rhythm going.  He grabs some expensive poppers.  He huffs.

“Give it all to me.”

I do.  Every inch.

“Oh, man….”  He inhales some more, but doesn’t pull off me.  “Fuck me hard.”

I do.  He begins to yip like the puppy he is.  His puppy mask sits on the back of the overstuffed chair by the window.  I fuck until I need to catch my breath.

I apologize that I’m not a great pump and dump guy---my fuse is way too long.  He assures me he’s in no rush.  Now that he can take me, he rides me again.  Bouncing and growling in his pup voice.

Then it’s back to doggy style---his ass at the edge of the bed so I can stand and drive it home.  He growls—and I realize to my amazement—I am going to shoot.

“I’m going to load you.”  He pants hard and grinds his ass back onto me.  I shoot.  It feels like a nice load—considering how much I shot last night.

He pulls off my cock and licks me clean.  “Thank you—what a great 40^th birthday present.” 

I give him a long birthday kiss.

I go home. 

And sleep away the rest of the afternoon.

(To be continued…)

 

 

CLAW--Warehouse Party Number One--Loads and Loads of FFun

Cleveland—April, 2013

I arrived later than I hoped.

I did a morning of work.  Then, on the way out of state, I stopped by to see my Dad in his assisted living facility.  It was hard to get away—and it was suddenly a full hour later than I planned to hit the road.  I drove through rain.  I drove through freezing rain.  I drove through blinding sun. 

And I got to Cleveland at rush hour. 

I’m at the overflow hotel this year.  It took me an hour to get from the expressway exit down seven blocks to the Hampton what with rush hour, a ball game jamming the stadium, and Ninth Street being torn up.  And the valet parking stand being constantly full.

But I have a great room.  A king sized bed with plenty of room for the sling and rimseat—though my hotel play will be limited with my early departure.

I walked over to register at the main hotel.  The Hilton is swarming with hot men in hides.  I buy my play party tickets and some day passes to get around the hotel.  Getting here so late, has cut into any opportunity to play before the Recon/Reflex party.  I have a late dinner, nap a little and get dressed.  Tonight it’s chaps, harness and boots.  I cover it all with my flight suit, to get out of the hotel with a level of modesty though it molds to my slight ass and mounds to perfection over my fat cock.  The young woman at the reception smiles appreciatively—the power of a man in uniform.

I go in the back entrance of the warehouse at Flex.  I prove I’m over 21—do ya think?  I give them my ticket and head upstairs.  I shuck my flight suit.  It’s early—though the party started an hour ago, there are not many in the play space.

And what a change.  Gone are the cubicles made of opaque plastic.  The cubicles now are chicken wire, so you can see what is happening on all sides of you.  There is a large space for side by side crosses.  In each cubicle there is a fuck bench or a bondage table or a platform sling.  The watersports area is at the other end of the warehouse.  It’s nothing but a drain in the floor—but there is a shower up a few steps and with a plexi-glass wall towards the crowd---something that was sorely lacking last year.  By the door to the roof  there is a suspension chain.  The highlight, literally, is a canvas sling up a flight of stairs on a platform 6 feet in the air.  It is lit dramatically.  I wonder if anyone will be brave enough to use it.  Gone are the glory holes—and frankly—any dark corner to have sex.  I hope the guys will want to show off….

I sit on the steps that lead to the shower.  Sure enough guys need to piss.  The dungeon masters of the night have worked up a load. I hunker down.  A man well older than I, takes out his very average cock.  He gives me a long stream of piss down my throat.  It is very strong.  He’s been drinking some sort of hard liquor.  His partner does the same, though he can’t get much flow going.

I chat.  I let a couple of men suck me.

Then I see him on the other side of the WS area.  He’s as tall and lean as I am, maybe even half an inch taller.  He’s ten years younger, dressed in a harness, boots and a leather jock with yellow piping.  He wants piss but it’s all gone to me so far.  What he wants even more is my cock.  He hefts it as he passes by me and gets lost for a moment in the crowd.

When I find him again, he’s being fucked by a daddy with a long thin cock on one of the platform slings.  I watch, stroking.  Daddy takes a break.  I kneel and taste his ass.  His hole is wide open and delicious.  He groans loudly.  A crowd gathers.  I rise.

“You want this raw cock?” 

“Fuck, yeah.”

I enter his moist hole.  He clamps.

“Slow, man” 

I don’t push all the way in.  I fuck slowly.  He’s only taking three quarters of my cock.  He hits the poppers.  I give all of it to him.  He moans.  A hot man in this 30’s, in full leather pants and shirt, come over.  He encircles my cock with his hand.  I let him hold on to me as I continue to fuck.  Soon I let this younger guy taste the ass on my cock.  He does.  I pull him up to kiss.  Then push him down to rim the boy.  Then pull him up to kiss.  Leather Pants inserts my cock back into the boy.  This time I fuck him hard.  He finally asks for a break.  This time the he cleans himself off my cock. 

We meet up continually for the first half of the night.  Fuck a little and move on to other things.

I get a huge, great tasting piss load (gin and tonic) from a new arrival—angering the cute piss boy who has commandeered all the other piss for the evening.

My pits are worked over by a hot man with a long beard.  We exchange blow jobs.  He delights what I do with my tongue on his thick PA.

I share that first boy’s hole with another daddy with a long thin cock.  He thinks it odd I want his cock in my mouth right after he’s done fucking.  He lets me—and then can’t get enough of shoving it in the boy’s hole and then into my mouth.  Repeat and repeat and repeat.  Then he strokes as he watches me stand up, and fuck the boy silly.

Leather pants sucks me for a while—and says he didn’t clean out.  Look for his ass tomorrow.

The first boy and I decide to show off.  The floggers are making loud cracks next to us as we mount the stairs to the canvas sling.  He gets in. I kneel and eat him out.  I look down—all eyes are on us.  I rise.  I push into him.  Slowly.  He groans, loud enough to be heard throughout the room.

“Now fuck me.” 

I do.  Hips smacking his slender butt.  He groans again and takes a hit.

I fuck and fuck.  I dip down to make a show of tasting his used ass, then insert my drooling cock back into him.  He can’t take it deep for long.  I’m back to just three quarters of my cock. 

We separate again. 

We meet up once more as he bends over to take three of us.  Then leaves early as he feels his clean out going bad. 

I suck a thick, uncut cock.  He’s been watching me fuck all evening and has finally pulled it out.

I piss on a new boy---letting it cover his body from neck to cock and back again.

It’s late now. The bar has closed.  A new pig has arrived—a good looking cub.  I see him getting fucked on one of the rigid platform slings.  He takes a young man’s load as I approach.  The top moves off and I move in.  I taste the load, but leave most of it in place.  I enter him.  Around us are the thick, uncut daddy, a black top and a cub—all stroking. 

I fuck in the load.

Then the uncut daddy.

Then the cub.  He  unloads in the boy.

I clean him off and eat a huge amount of cum out of the pig.  I fuck him.

Uncut daddy takes a turn and creams him.

Another cock goes up the pig as I clean off uncut daddy.  I look down, and groveling below me, the new piss boy is suckling on my cock.  I let him.  Then get him up and make him felch a little.  He snow balls it to me.

I keep fucking the pig, all frothy from the loads.  He is loving it. 

Another shaved headed man gives him a load, climbing right up on the suspended platform to fuck him.  I eat that out. 

We are practically the only men left in the warehouse.  I fuck.  It’s time to load him.

“You want another load?”  I beat my swollen cock on his balls.

“Fuck yes.”

“This will be five.”

“And I started with four loads down in the bar.”  No wonder he tasted so good when we started.

I fuck. Eat.  Fuck.  Shoot.  It’s a load I’ve worked up with 4 hours of play.  I collapse onto the pig.

I eventually clean him up a little.

“Put your fingers in me.”

I do.  Two, then three, then four.

“Fist me.”

I add the thumb.  I just push slightly.  I have never used so much cum to fist.  I slip right in.  The pig wants to piss himself, but can’t quite get there.  I slowly start to open my hand inside him.  The cum lets me slide deeper.  I pull my wrist cuff off so I can go deeper still.  I do.  A look of utter bliss crosses the pig’s face. 

A perfect end to a great night.

CLAW--2013

It is time for CLAW!  I hit the road for Cleveland Leather Awareness Weekend in about two hours.

 

While I am not even halfway through writing up a very sexually active March, I am going skip ahead and try to report daily from my hotel in Cleveland.

I can’t spend the entire weekend there this year, as work gets in the way by Saturday night….but I will have three days to get in to trouble and two massive play parties to fuck and piss my way through.

My leather is cleaned and my boots need to find a hot boot black.

I have packed the sling, the rimseat and a lot of towels…

I am hoping to find a new toy for my piss boy’s hole and a new piece of leather for me (Let’s use that discount from my brother at the Vendor Mart!)

There is what looks to be a great art exhibit of erotic artist Etienne (Dom Orejudos).  His murals at Man’s Country in Chicago are a hot and fun.  I can’t wait to see more.

 

I have talked to a lot of hot men who are on their way to Cleveland. I hope to meet many of them.

I may even find time to take a class…

So stay tuned.  It’s a busy (and hot!) weekend…

Showing Off with Dean

Near My Home—March, 2013

I was at work.  Dean, the handsome top who is expanding his bottom side with me, was chatting with me online.  We had covered the weather, his last bar night, CLAW coming up in April and an exchange about a hot ass we wanted to share.  Then he typed a sentence that made me sweat:  “I hear you write a sex blog.”

I typed back something noncommittal:  “Oh?”

“It’s fucking hot.  Especially those entries about a certain guy named Dean.”

I wiped my clammy hands on my jeans and relaxed a little.

“You liked those?”

“It was just like you were doing me again.”

“Thanks,” I pecked out.

"I have three hours before a meeting.  Can we meet at the bookstore downtown?”

We agreed as to exactly where and when, and then I told my boss that I was done for the day...

He was right on time.  We parked next to each other in the lot.  We went into the new gay theatre.  The bookstore has taken out some unused preview booths and built a separate, but equal gay theatre.  About a dozen new chairs were scattered around the room.  A padded bench ran against the side wall.  We were alone in the space—except for some pretty boys doing some passionless fucking on the large flat screen.

 I am in my Camoes, old army shirt and combat boots.  He’s dressed for his board meeting.  He steps out of his slacks and folds them neatly as I sit on the padded bench and unbutton my pants.  An obedient boy, now dressed in just his briefs and dress shirt, he kneels between my splayed legs.  My cock is rock hard.  I can never believe my good fortune— that someone I always wanted and thought was unobtainable, is once again taking my cock into his mouth.  I make him hold a moment, with just the head in his mouth.  I want to savor seeing that handsome face grind into my pubes as he slides home.  He does, pausing for just a moment, then takes me all the way.  He lingers for a long second, squeezing me in the back of his throat.  Then he’s up and off my cock.  I lean forward to kiss him.  We kiss hungrily.  His tongue pokes spit and pre-cum into my mouth.  I swallow some, and give the rest back to him.  He swallows and our mouths meet again.  I let him go back down on me.  His head bobs up and down, as I stroke his head.

I finally have to pull him off me.  He stands.  His tented designer shorts are right in front of my face.  No cock cage today.  I pull them down and take him into my mouth.  His cock is dripping.  I swirl my tongue around the head.  He groans and holds me in place by my ears.  He begins to fuck my face.  That thick cock of his makes me oval my mouth wide.  He fucks my mouth.  The fingers of his right hand move up to my head, making designs on my shaved scalp. 

“Oh, man…” he mutters.  I can see him will himself to stop before he blows. 

I pull off his cock.  “I want to eat your ass.”

He gets on all fours on the padded bench.  I kneel, but the bench is so low I am hunched over in a really awkward position.  It doesn’t stop my tongue from connecting with his hole.  He groans and says something I can’t understand, as his face is pressed against the plywood wall.  I spit into his hole and snake my tongue into him.  And again.  But I have to stop.  I am hurting my neck.

“Sit there,” he says as he gets up and points to the middle of the bench.  I do, my back against the wall.  He steps up onto the bench, his back to me.  He’s tall enough that he can straddle me and lower his ass onto my face.  I gurgle my encouragement.  I can’t get enough of his ass, lightly haired and now slightly open to my tongue.  I eat and twist my tongue in even deeper.  Fuck my rimseat, this is heaven right here.  I have to stop stroking my cock, I’m so turned on by his ass.

When his knees get tired, he gets down.  I get up and we kiss.  For a long time.  I don’t kiss many men.  I can’t stop kissing him.  When we separate, I ask “How long do we have?”

Dean looks at his phone.  “I still have an hour before the meeting.  It’s really close to here.”  He looks at me, and kisses me lightly once more.  “Fuck me.”

I push him towards some chairs against the back wall, so he can brace himself on one of their arms.  I eat his ass a little more, stroking my cock and applying some lube to it.  I stand up.

"You able to clean out at work?” I murmur in his ear.

“This morning I did.”

I make a quick mental compute of time and fish a Magnum out of my pocket.  I slip it on without his being aware.  I lube heavily.  He bends, holding onto the arms of the plastic seat.  I slap my engorged head against his hole.  And I move into him slowly.  He grunts.  I pause.  I push.  He takes me.  He’s takes me more easily every time we fuck.  I hold, with my entire length in him.  He is stroking.  Furiously.  I start a steady fuck rhythm. 

The door buzzes and opens.  We are directly in front of it.  And don’t care.  I fuck.  My balls slap Dean’s ass as an overweight Mexican stands for a moment, framed in the doorway, then steps in, continuing to watch us.  He gropes himself, but makes no move to touch us. 

I fuck even harder with an audience. 

My balls whack at his ass.  My hand connects with his upturned ass.  He’s close.  I can tell.

The Mexican leaves—breaking our concentration as the door is yanked open and slams shut.  I pull out.  He’s clean.  I rip the condom off, thinking I’d slide back in raw. 

“Oh, fuck.”  He’s going to shoot.

“I want it,” I tell him.

“You do?”

He has never cum in my mouth.

I sit on the floor against the side wall nearest us.  Dean comes toward me.  His dripping cock looks huge and red. I open wide.  He pushes in and fucks my mouth for maybe two strokes.  He explodes.  He grabs the sides of my head and pumps his seed down my throat.  I try to pull back slightly—I want to taste it.  I am able to squirm back just enough to let the third spurt go across my tongue.  It’s sweet and thick and viscous.  And there is a lot of it.  Dean starts to pull out.  I grab his balls and hold him in place.  I get one last spurt.

I clean him off.  It’s that moment I can’t get enough of with any man.  To do it for Dean means more than I want to write here.

He pulls me up.

We kiss. 

Again.

Two Pigs in the Windy City--March Piss Party and Steamworks

Chicago—March, 2013

 I traveled to Chicago for the piss party with my friend and fuck bud Ryan on the second weekend of March.  He wrote it upfor his blog when he got home.  It was a great trip.  We hit not only the party, but a bookstore on the way and then went to Steamworks afterwards.

The Bookstore

This is a new one to me.  It’s on the outskirts of Chicago.  The arcade is laid out in the shape of an L.  Quite a few booths have glory holes.  Ryan and I go in different directions.  I’m not looking to play too much with a four hour piss party on the horizon.  Every dis-embodied eye peering through the hole seems to want to suck my cock.  I let them.

I also find a thick cock with an overabundance of foreskin to nurse on. 

Ryan and I meet up in the hallway.  He gets me into the booth to see if I can fuck the same ass he just did.  I go in and peer through the hole.  The man on the other side is just finishing zipping up.  I don’t get to see his fabled ass at all.  Ryan and I, after a quick piss, (no, not on each other) are back on the tollway to Chicago.

The Piss Party

We check into the party, held in the back bar.  A quick strip to my old (and holey) army boots and a jock I’m wearing to send off to a reader who wants it filled with my cum and piss stains.  We check our bags.  I need to piss like a race horse. We’ve been hydrating on Gatorade on the way in.  I find a man kneeling in the inflatable pool waiting for his first piss load of the night.  I am anything but hard for this piss.  I can barely get my cock out of the pouch before the stream starts.  I splash the first spurt right on the upturned face of the man groveling before me.  He opens his mouth and lets it stream into his gullet.  I then let the flow play on his nipples, passing over his hairy chest and then concentrate it on the small cock he is jerking frantically.  I make a final splash up to his face for one more mouthful, and then stick my cock in his mouth.  He hoovers me to get the last few drops of piss out and continues sucking me until I’m hard.  I thank him.  He thanks me.  I pat his damp head and go sit on the bench at the back.

Instantly a guy comes around the screen.  He is balding—with that low rim of hair left that makes me want to go find clippers.  He is carrying more weight than he should.  But he’s eager.  He goes down on my damp cock.  He’s leaves trails of spittle all over my cock and jock as he deep throats.  I make sure I rub some into the fabric.  He gets up, turns around and sits on my cock.  I don’t usually fuck in the first hour or so.  But he left me no chance to refuse.  He’s impaled himself on my cock.  And, damn.  His ass is as talented as his throat.  He squeezes my big cock repeatedly on the out stroke.  I finally tell him I need water and get to the bar.

The early fuck sets the tone for this party.  It’s not a piss party with some occasional ass.  No, this time it’s all about fucking while occasionally getting splashed with piss.  I am in constant demand.  I fuck in the back corners.  I fuck behind the screens across from the bar.  I fuck one brave guy while he holds onto the edge of the bar, sticking his sculpted ass out towards the crowd watching us fuck. 

And many of them are not my regulars.  One of these newcomers is a hot young man, slim and toned, who rides me, then licks my cock clean.  He goes to drink some piss and then finds me every fifteen minutes or so.  He particularly likes to climb up on my dick the moment it’s vacated by the previous guy. 

Just once I stop him.  “Get down there.”  I point between my knees.  I stand up from the bench along the side wall and let my piss spit out on his handsome young face.  He gasps and ovals his mouth.  I feed the baby bird.  He swallows my entire piss load—which is huge as I’ve so rarely stopped fucking—but have still managed to tank up while guys ride me.  He gets up.  I know right where he’s headed.  He kisses me.  He’s saved a mouthful of piss that we yellowball back and forth.

I join the group around Ryan with David, and Jeff.  I eat Jeff’s hole.  Eventually, I watch as he fucks Ryan.  David is glued onto my mouth, tasting Jeff’s ass.  Then I fuck Ryan.  Hard.  David squats next to us so he can watch my big cock split his fuck bud open.  Finally I pull out and slap my wet cock into David’s mouth. 

Ryan and I fuck side by side for a bit.  Ryan is in David.  I’m in this small man who reminds me of a jockey—a jockey with a perfectly shaped and hairy ass.  David and the jockey turn to each other.  They hold onto the bench with one arm, wrap their inside one around the other bottom and kiss hungrily.  I could cum just watching them…but I don’t.  I save it for the bathhouse.

Steamworks

It’s a busy night.  We are re-fueled after a quick bite to eat.  I am still pissing every 20 minutes.  But the first thing I do is coax a hot Hispanic at the urinal next to me, to let me drink his piss.  He can’t believe I want it.  But he’s willing.  He’s been drinking soda, so it’s sweet and good.  It’s a hot, hot moment, knowing this guy has never done it before.  He can’t disguise the joy in his face as I drink him down.  Another convert.

Ryan and I have not seen each other since we went to strip off in our separate rooms.  We meet up at a fuck bench.  Ryan is fucking a pig on the bench who seems to be taking all loads.   He slows when he sees me.  I push through the crowd of onlookers.  Ryan pulls out of the full ass.  I push in. The pig groans.  I can tell I’m fucking in load.  I have no idea whose it is. 

“Let me taste your cock,” Ryan whispers in my ear.  I pull out.  He sucks my cum covered cock clean.  I stick it back in getting an even bigger groan from the pig bottom.  I am really banging him and think this may be my time to shoot a load.  But the bottom asks for a break.

I find some cock suckers.

I find a young man in the public sling.  He is slim, all of 25.  He’s been in the steam room.  His brown curls are damp and sticking to his forehead.  I drop my towel.

“Fuck.  Just use lots of lube.”

I know something better.  I drop to the sticky floor on the business end of the sling and eat his hole.  He is literally purring as I work my tongue up him.  I lube my cock a little and enter him.  We fuck.  Bystanders stroke his chest, play with his nipples.  One wants his cock sucked, but it’s an impossible angle the way the sling is hung. 

I am close.  Again.  But my boy jerks himself off before I can cum.

He apologizes as he staggers out of the sling.

I fuck in some closed rooms.  Not my favorite.

Much later, I check the sling.  I can’t believe it.  The same boy is back.  He can’t believe I haven’t gotten off yet.  I eat his hole.  I slip in.  I plow.  I am going to give him a load this time.  It takes no time for me to be on the edge.

“You want this load?”

“Fuck, yes.  Breed me!”

I do.  I collapse on his chest.  He holds me for a moment.  I feel sticky—he’s gotten off again.  I look up. 

There’s Ryan, watching us.  I smile at him, a slightly crooked grin. 

“A good night,” I say to no one in particular, as my slippery cock slides out of the boy's loaded ass.