Three Ball Bearings

Near Home—October, 2013

Kurt, the man who can take not just my cock, but my arm up to the elbow, wanted to do something different.  He sent me a text asking if we could meet at the bookstore that is fairly near my home.  I said I’d be happy to meet there—though reminded him it was not a place where we could do any hand balling. He shot back an answer saying that was fine.  He just wanted to be fucked in public and maybe get some other guys involved.

We set up a time.  We met at lunch hour—hoping to find some men needing quick release before going back to work.

 

I am sitting in the gay theatre, having purchased the combo ticket to get me into the straight theatre, too.  I know Kurt is here—I saw his car in the lot—but he’s not in either theatre.  I am guessing he’s in the arcade, which is often busier but there is no room to play in the tiny booths.  In there, any contact has to all be through the glory holes.  I am not in the mood for that.  I take a seat along the wall and idly watch the porn.  It’s not inspiring.  My cock is half hard, at best.  The only other occupant of the room is an older man behind me on the couch.  I can see him if I turn my head slightly to the left.  He is kneading his cock through his pants.

Eventually Kurt walks in.  He comes right up to me.  He’s on his knees, his tall frame folded under himself, to serve me.  He is coaxing me to full hardness before I can say hello.  With one hand on my balls, he opens his jeans with his other, keeping me in his mouth the entire time.  I stroke his shaved head—occasionally holding him in place to bury my dick deeper into him.

The action brings the older man up to watch.  He stands behind my shoulder and takes out his rather petite cock to stroke.

Kurt stands up when the floor gets too hard.  I suck his cock for a moment.  But that’s not what we are about—it’s all about getting my spit slicked cock up his ass.  He moves away and pulls off his shoes, then his jeans.  He has a red jock framing his butt.  He puts the shoes back on and bends into one of the chairs across the room.  I go over.  I spit on his pucker.  I push right in.  There is no resistance.  I am all the way home in one stroke.  I can’t tell if I’m the first one up his ass today or not.  I think I am.  I don’t really care.  It just feels good to fuck.  Kurt remembers to tighten down for the first three minutes, but then he becomes looser with each stroke.  The price of those big toys he loves—and not doing Kegels to tighten himself back down.  I am soon feeling very little.

Kurt, knowing it, pulls off me and stands up.  He has a fanny pack around his waist.  He digs into it and hands me three metal ball bearings.  Each is the size of a billiard ball. He kneels on the seat of the chair.  I lube the first ball up and pop it into him.  The second goes in and you can hear the click as they meet.  I line up the third.  This one I push in with my dick.  Damn.  He’s back to being tight.  The balls have sunk lower into his gut, so my cock travels across them as I fuck.  It’s hot skin on the top and sides and cool metal underneath.  The fuck just went from good to great.  I love the contrasting sensations.

The older man can’t believe what he’s watching.  He moves behind me and reaches down to feel my moving cock.  He settles for caressing my balls on the out stroke.  Another man walks in.  I’ve seen him around but we’ve never played.  He’s maybe 40, short and has dark hair that always looks like he’s just come in from wild weather.  He comes right over, whips out a nice sized dick and sticks it in Kurt’s mouth.  We fuck into Kurt in unison, who is grunting like a good pig. 

The older man shoots, just missing my boots.  The new guy stops himself from cumming by twisting his ball sack.  He takes out a fast food napkin, mops up his dick and takes off.  I slow and pull out.  I make Kurt clean me off—no napkin for me.  We agree to go see who else is around.

***

Thirty minutes later, we meet up again in the straight theatre.  He tells me he’s found nothing of interest.  I don’t want to tell him I have two loads in my gut.  We are currently the only guys on this side.  I’d gotten the other two occupants off—and they’ve left.  He strips down again and kneels on this much more comfortable couch.  He’s able to rest his head in his hands on the back of it.  I lick his ass.  I am pretty sure someone else has been up it, but I don’t ask.  I fuck him.  Kurt is making a lot of noise—considering we are just a cinder block wall away from the front desk.

The door buzzes.  We freeze.

In walks the guy who joined us earlier.  He opens his fly and begins jerking.  We begin fucking again.  I offer him Kurt’s ass.

“I just want his mouth.”

I turn Kurt so he can take the man’s dick down his throat.  I fuck him harder—which shoves Kurt down on his cock.  The guy is grunting and muttering under his breath.  I think Kurt is finally going to get a load down his throat. 

“Shit!”  The guy is there.  He rips his cock out of Kurt’s mouth and spills his seed on the floor.  He won’t let Kurt touch his cock again.  He leaves.

“I need to get to work,” Kurt tells me.

I was hoping to get off, but thank him and go over to the gay side.

Thirty minutes later, I’ve gotten two more loads down my throat.

I check in on the straight side.  There’s Kurt, still here, sucking a beautiful young man.

Oh, really?

H’mm….

I take off for the day.  I have no need to stop for lunch…

David Does the Piss Party

Chicago—October, 2013

It was a busy weekend.  Friday night had been the house party I wrote about on my last two posts.  Saturday morning I woke up with a raging hard on.  My cock knew where I was headed.  I was bound for Chicago and the monthly piss party. 

I picked up Ryan at his home by mid-afternoon.  We compared notes about the men we’d fucked and bred the night before.  As we drove, we sipped Gatorade, and I heard about a couple of his favorite tricks who he had not yet written up for ‘Spreading My Legs.’  I told him about Juan stopping by for his breeding, promising Ryan he’d love the pictures.

We arrived with just enough time to spare to find free street parking—no easy job in Chicago.  We went in, undressed and the wetness began…

 I am refilling my empty Gatorade bottle at one of the two big coolers which sit on either end of the bar.  I am at the one closest to the video screen—and the back corner.  I see a younger guy with a hot, hairy chest, and a neatly trimmed beard sitting on the lone bar stool in the corner.  The cub gets up as I approach.  He has a nice mound in the white jock that clings to his slightly swollen cock.  We say hello and he falls to his knees.  I let him suck me for a bit.  I’m not getting as hard as I should.  I need to piss.  I pull out and let him have some in his open mouth.  He groans.  I let my stream play on his hairy chest.  He leans back on his heels, reveling in the warm liquid clinging to all that hair.  His hands come up and he massages some into his chest.  I aim a little lower.  The large cock, sticking out of the mounded pouch, gets drenched.  I let it play over his jock.  For the next four hours, it will no longer be white.

I finish up.  He swallows my cock, getting the last of my stream in his mouth.  I am now rock hard. My boy of the moment falls into cock sucking mode.  He swabs my broad cock head with his rough tongue.  It feels great.  He has two thirds of me deep in his throat.  I hold the back of his head and fuck my cock into him.  He takes me to the root.  I hold.  And then let him pull off.

He grins up at me.  “Damn that’s good.”

I pull him up.  I work his hard seven incher the rest of the way out of his wet jock.  I kneel and just get my mouth around him before he begins to piss.  It’s not a lot, but it whets my appetite for more.  I swallow it down, loving the feeling of his cock spewing into my mouth.

“Would you fuck me?” he asks as I stand back up.

I don’t answer.  I just turn him around, so he can lean on the bar stool.  I kneel behind him.  His ass is as furry as his chest, and rather flat.  I pull his cheeks apart and spend long minutes eating his hole.  A one point, I stand and am able to give one short blast of piss right onto it.  I lick it off, stroking and lubing my cock. 

I enter him.  He takes me easily into his talented ass.  He squeezes down as I hold still.  Then he orders me to fuck him hard.  I do.  A regular comes by and starts to piss on the cubs back.  The liquid sluices down his spine and covers my cock on each back stroke.  I fuck some of the piss into the cub.  Another man joins the first pisser and we get even more piss.  It’s splashing over us, guttering into his ass crack.

“Fuck,” I mutter. 

Moments like this is exactly why I come here.

I fuck the cub until I’m on the edge.  Then stop.  I taste his piss covered hole.  We kiss.  We separate and find new partners.

***

An hour into the event, I sit on the bench, hidden by a screen from the bar.  I don’t know how many guys have sucked my dick.  I have sucked a little and drunk less.  This party seems to be a good mix of regulars and new people.  Maybe 60 people are sucking and pissing.  Next to me, a younger guy I have not seen before, who has a cute round butt, is bent over sucking the cock of one of the regular tops.  The top reaches across the young man and spreads the sucker’s ass cheeks open with his thick hands.  I fall to my knees on the wet floor and begin eating the proffered hole.   His ass is sweet, with just the merest hint of soap.  From behind me an arc of piss hits the ass crack where my face is buried.  I have to slurp it down or drown.  Whoever is pissing has a huge bladder full—it goes on and on.  The boy is moaning, the top is telling the pisser to feed me and I can barely keep up with the massive flow.  I poke some of the piss into the boy with my tongue, but mostly drink it down after it’s flowed over his ass crack.  Suddenly, the boy between us spasms—he is shooting all over the floor.  All the attention is too much for him.  He thanks us and goes to sit at the bar.

Across the room I see David.  My cock literally jumps.  I had met David back at MAL in DC a couple of years ago.  He lives there, but still has family in Chicago, so he often comes here for the Jewish holidays.  Today he is wearing his Neoprene singlet.  His thick, cut cock is jutting out of the hole in front, his bubble butt from the hole in the rear.  He is one of the most handsome men I’ve ever fucked—with sharp, strong features, dark curly hair and a short beard.  I think back to the time I whored him out atSteamworks.  He was a total magnet for cock and cum.  I had rarely felched more out of a man.  He is working that magic now.  He holds onto the bar and lets a Daddy fuck him.  David’s head is turned towards me—he knows I’m watching.  He smirks at me—then his look changes to one of pure lust as the cock behind him picks up speed.  Guys get in the way so I can’t see anymore, but I sit and wait for him.  Soon he arrives.  He greets me with a kiss and says “You’d better eat my ass before I lose it all.”  I hunker down as he turns it towards me.  It’s gleaming with fresh cum.  I lick him clean, stand up and turn him towards me to kiss.  I snowball the load into his mouth.  David kisses me hungrily.  “Fuck me.”  He pulls away and holds onto the screen, arching his back and thrusting that perfect ass towards me.  I enter—and fuck him hard.  When I stop, he cleans my cock, not wanting to miss any remnants of the other man’s load that are now on my cock.  He goes off to get another beer.  I know I will be back up that ass before long.

I find Ryan and tell him David is here and the he needs to fuck him.

***

Another hour of wetness has gone by.  David and I are talking behind the screen.  Ryan arrives behind David and reaches out, touching David’s wet hole.  David arches back, not caring who is admiring his ass.  Ryan pushes in.  I bend David to suck me.  Ryan is fucking him hard, impaling David on my cock with each thrust.  Ryan gets that look on his face I’ve come to know—he has to stop or he’ll cum.  He stops just in time.  I turn David to clean his cock.  After he has licked the juice off of him, David stands up.

“Oh, yeah,” I venture.  “You two should know each other.  This is my friend Ryan.  Ryan—David.  Ryan and I talked about you on the way into town, hoping you might be here.”  We continue talking as if the fuck had never interrupted us.

***
Another hour has gone by.  I am fucking David again.  With the remnants of the crowd watching me do it.  Most have shot and gone.  Ryan arrives.

“Take my buddy.”

David turns his back to Ryan.  Ryan kneels and eats David’s hole.  It’s seen a lot of cock since Ryan last saw him.  I can only imagine how good it must taste.  Ryan must think so, too.  He rises up and fucks David incredibly hard.  I hold on to David, his arms around my neck.  I can feel the battering he’s taking.  Ryan slows and saves his load.  He ambles away.  I turn David so he can support himself on the bench.  I enter his used hole.  I fuck right where Ryan was moments ago.

David tells me how good it feels.   “Now piss me.”

I slow and hold in place.  Then I make tiny thrusts.  My piss spurts out going deep into David.  I thrust a little more, still spewing the hot liquid.  I am fucking it deep into his gut.  He is moaning, taking the biggest, hottest load of his night.  When I have no more piss to offer, I fuck a little more, but I know I won’t be able to shoot a cum load.  David pulls off me, cleans my cock and gives me an incredibly sensuous kiss. He tells me he will likely see me next month and goes to find his clothes.

I drink a little more, but know I won’t likely get off after all the hours of play.  I don’t want any other ass after that last piss fuck with David.

Ryan finds me and we pack up and head home.  Soon we are at his house, arms and legs wrapped around each other in his bed.  It feels good to have someone I care about in my arms once again. We are asleep in no time at all.

David's ass---lifted from his profile.

House Party--Part Two

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House Party--no condoms needed

South Bend—October, 2013

I had been to his house a couple of times over the years for sex parties.  (The most memorable one is posted here.)  The host is a gentleman who retired early.  He hosts parties every six weeks or so until he goes south for the winter.  He allows guys to play all over his split level home.  There are two bedrooms he has available upstairs.  The Master bedroom is the only door which is kept locked.  There is a couch in the living room that is covered with a sheet and sits in front of a television playing porn.  A day bed is pulled open in what would normally be his dining area.  Downstairs in his furnished basement is a bar.  Another double bed sits near it where you can see a partition set up.  There are two large ovals in it for glory hole action.  Past the bar there is another large couch area where porn is projected on the wall.  In the darkest corner, past those couches, is another makeshift mattress on the floor and some work out equipment.  Condoms and lube are located near every fuck area.

Ryan wrote this party up on his blog “Spreading My Legs.”  I got there first.  The party was already starting to come to life as I arrived.

I drive right past his driveway the first time.  I come back at it.  There is a large, hand painted sign with his house number on it from this direction.  It’s perhaps 40 minutes after the start time on the invite.  The lawn is already littered with cars.  A sign posted on the door says to walk in and strip.  I go in and find a corner of the living room.  I strip down to a clean jock and my boots, stowing my clothes in my bag.  I dig out my poppers and put them in my right sock.  The lube goes into the waistband of my jock.  Three Magnums go into my left sock for it’s not an exclusively bareback party.  I never touch those foil wrapped packages all night.  I grab my water bottle and go exploring.  Nothing much is happening.  A couple of daddies are watching the porn in the living room.  Quite a few young men are smoking on a screened in porch off the kitchen.  I go downstairs.  The glory holes are both busy.  A biker looking guy is telling his invisible cock sucker that it’s the best head of his life.  I push past the crowd at the bar.  I greet the host and wind around the path to the projected porn.  More action here.  Some stroking.  Some cock sucking.  I guess there are about 50 guys throughout the house—a number that swells and ebbs throughout the evening.  The average age is 40.  There are a many above and many below that number.  All types, all sizes.  The host’s network of men is vast as he’s been doing this for a long time.

I hear noise in the back, darkest area.  On the makeshift bed is a slightly chunky Latino man.  Maybe 35.  He’s getting fucked by a 50 year old daddy.  Noisily.  He’s drawing a crowd—on purpose.  We watch the action.  Soon guys go from playing with themselves to playing with the cock next to them.  Some guys kneel and start giving head.  I am fortunate to have an older man who is excellent go down on my dick.  He savors my cock as if it’s a rare treat.  And my balls, without my asking.  He’s the perfect party warm-up.

The fuck finishes without either guy getting off.  They head to the bar.  A stunning young blond arrives.  He’s late 20’s, a great gym body and a nice sized cock.  Everyone wants him.  I watch as a series of guys suck him.  Ryan arrives. 

We all watch or suck.  I take a turn on my cock sucker’s cock—a heavily pierced beer can.

Tad arrives.  He’s shorter than the blond but just as stunning.  He has a nicely worked out body, with a closely cropped dark beard on his handsome face.  Tad moves right in to the blonde.  He sucks him.  He loves showing off.  Tad finds the lube and rubs some into his hole for all of us to see.  Tad backs up on the cock that was just in his mouth.  Ryan is jerking like crazy.  I bend him forward and start rimming him as he watches his f-bud get fucked.  Eventually the guys move the fucking to the bed.  They put on a good show.  Tad is telling him to breed his ass.  The blond fucks him vigorously.  He doesn’t shoot.  It’s early in the evening.  As  those two leave, the entire crowd disperses.

I sit down on the used mattress.  I stroke my wet cock and wait.

The chunky Latino is back.  “Should I call you Sir or Daddy?” he asks.

“Either.”

“Well, Sir, a daddy like you should not be stroking his own dick.”

“Oh?”

“You need a boy to do that.”  He sits down on the mattress next to me.

“Then get on it, boy.”  He crawls over to my side. 

He wraps his hand around it.  “Oh, it’s bigger than I thought.  Will you fuck me, Daddy?”

“Get your mouth on it.”  I guide the back of his head down on my knob.  He’s sucking me from the side.  He can’t go deep from that angle.  I move around so he can get on the floor in front of me.  He doesn’t have to be asked or directed.  He moves to right where he belongs.  He grunts and sucks.   Deep and full.  Occasionally pulling off my cock to tell me how much he likes it.

“Sit on it.”

“You’re too big, Daddy.” 

“I saw that other guy’s dick.  You can take mine.”

He lubes me up.  Not even a mention of latex.  He stands and lowers his generous ass to my cock head.  The moment he lines it up properly, he sits.  I slide all the way in on the first stroke.

“YES!”  He’s loud again.  Guys stream in from other parts of the house.  The Latino is bouncing on my cock, keeping up a verbal commentary on my fuck skills.

“Stand up.”  He gets off me.  “Now bend over.”  He gets on all fours on the mattress.  We are on the side, so we are in profile to the crowd watching.  I slap my cock on his upturned butt.  I might as well show the onlookers just how big it is.  I know it pays to advertise.  I slide it home again.  In one long stroke.

“Shit, yes.  Give me that cock.  And cum.  Are you going to breed me, Daddy?”

I slap his ass.  “Work for it.”

Immediately his ass starts squeezing down on my cock.  A man moves behind me from out of the crowd.  He reaches around from behind to feel the girth of my cock—and, I guess, to see if I’m fucking raw.  The Latino natters on.  I slow down.  I pull out.  I’m pleased that the guy who is behind me turns me around and cleans my cock.  I didn’t expect that with this group.

I help the Latino up.  I whisper in his ear that I’ll find him later if he really wants my cum.

I check out the other rooms, idly watching the sex happening all around me.

When I get back to the darkest area, I see Tad getting fucked by a new comer.  He is young, with a slightly stockier build and thick dick—he looks familiar.  Tad is obviously enjoying it.  Ryan comes over to me and tells me the new guy is JD, the one he wants me to fuck.  I realize I recognize him from the pictures on Ryan’s blog.

The guys on the makeshift bed flip.  JD gets on all fours.  Tad’s big dick slides right up him.  Tad pounds JD just as hard as he was being pounded moments ago. Ryan sticks his dick in JD’s mouth.  When Tad pulls out, Ryan’s wet cock is in his ass next.  I stick mine into JD’s mouth.

“Good and wet,” I tell him.

Ryan motions me over.  I kneel and slowly insert.  I am the third guy up him in his first 15 minutes of the party.   I can tell why Ryan can’t get enough of his ass.  He’s great—hot and wet, tight and muscled.  JD tells me he loves my cock.  The crush of guys watching makes the bed slightly claustrophobic.  I slow and pull out.

“Come here.”  There is some sort of exercise machine next to us.  I bend him over it.  I kneel.  I taste his hole.  I think about the three cocks that were just in him.  My cock drools at the thought.  JD is a great self-luber, so I get a mix of him and some precum we’ve left behind all over my tongue.  This makes my cock more than ready to plow again.

I stand up and enter.  The new position makes JD feel me deeper in his guts.  He grunts.  I fuck with no mercy.  I slam into him.  My balls slap against him.  Ryan watches and holds JD’s shoulders in place.  I fuck in long strokes.  Almost all the way out.  Grinding my pubes into him.

“Please.  I need a break,” JD tells me.

I pull out and hug him, telling him how hot he is and that I’d love to have another crack at his hole.  As it works out, I don’t see him again the rest of the night….

Continued in my next post…

Foreskin Sighting

Closer to Detroit—October, 2013

I’m on my way to pick up my Dad and take him to his pace-maker checkup.  My travel cup of hot tea has worked its way through me very fast.  I am not going to make it to my Dad’s to piss.  There’s a rest area ahead.  It’s a newer one on the Interstate.  It replaced an earlier rest area where my brother had had a huge amount of college sex in the 1970’s.  If this new one has any action, I have never run across any.

 I pull in.  I park next to a compact car.  A very attractive cinnamon skinned man is sitting in it.  He makes immediate eye contact.  I smile, but I can’t linger.  I really need to piss.  I am out of my car and push through the swinging glass doors.  This is the exact opposite of the rural rest area where I often hang out.  There are two men’s rooms, one on the side where the cars park and one on the side where the truckers park.  Between them is a baby changing room which is always locked.   There are two women’s restrooms as well, with the custodian’s office between those.  His door is always open, and he makes a point of being aware of who is coming into the place.

I walk right by the first men’s room and go into the one on the truckers’ side.  It is empty.  There are five urinals—two pairs that are on walls that make the men stand back to back and one on the wall between them.  I choose one that puts my back to the door.  I unbutton and haul my cock out.  The piss cascades into one of those new waterless urinals.  Before the stream even starts to slow, there is movement behind me.  Someone else has entered.  I glance to my right.  I can see the other set of urinals in the mirror over the sinks.  It’s the man from the car.

I wait a moment.  My piss has lessened, but you can still hear some spiraling down the drain.  I look over my shoulder.  His upper body is turned towards me.  He is obviously stroking—the tail of his blue blazer is moving in rhythm with his hand.  He smirks at me.  The moment my piss stops, my cock hardens.  And I go over to the urinal next to him.

He is stroking a beautiful uncut cock.  It is sticking out of his neatly pressed tan pants.  His white shirt is open at the throat; his tie has been left in the car.  He grins at me.  He bends over and looks hard at my dick. He comes up with a slight whistle under his breath. I look at the fine black hair covering his hand—the hand that is continually skinning his foreskin over the head of his cock.

“Do you fuck?” he whispers.

I nod.

He murmurs “Nice.”  His cock is drooling.  My cock is spitting pre-cum all over my fingers.  I bring them up to my mouth.

The man sighs.  I think he’s about to get on his knees…

The attendant noisily clanks through the door, pushing a mop bucket on wheels.  We recover in time, pushing our junk deep into the urinals.  The attendant looks at us.  He says nothing, but goes right to one of the stalls.  We hear him wring out the mop.  It hits the floor with a splat.  The attendant is obliviously there to stay for a while.

I do up my pants.  I look at my hot Middle Eastern partner.  I nod towards the lobby, hoping he’ll follow me out to into there.  I wait, feigning interest in the candy machine.  He comes out and immediately goes into the other men’s room.  I follow him in.  He’s already stroking openly at the nearest urinal.

“We can’t stay here,” I whisper.  “He’s seen us.”

He strokes, showing me the purple head of his cock.  I’m uncomfortably stuffed into my jeans.  I think for a moment about going for it. 

“Got a place?”  he asks. 

I’m 70 miles from home.  I shake my head.

He shrugs.

Then I hear the mop bucket, squeaking.  If the attendant finds us both in here, we are indeed screwed.  I head out to my car, making it out into the lobby before the attendant emerges from the restroom and heads for the other.  I sit for a moment behind the wheel, but the man never comes out.

I sigh and head on to pick-up my Dad.

Cum Dump/Piss Dump

North of home—October, 2013

“I’ll be in your area tonight,” he typed.  “Come up and breed me.  Like piss up my ass 2.”

He didn’t mention that we’d played once before when he was commuting between cities.  I recognized the ancient picture in his profile.  He didn’t particularly look like the picture back then, I was sure he’d look even less like the handsome man in the picture now.  But I had been stood up for an afternoon session.  I was horny.

“Just a pump and dump is fine,” he wrote, not waiting for me to say yes or no.

"OK,” I typed back and we set the time he thought he’d be there and cleaned out.

I drove to the hotel, right on time.   As arranged, I sent him a text:  “You ready?”

My phone beeped.  “Yessir.  214”

“Prop the door open.  Ass up.”

“Yessir.”

I went in…

 His room is at the far end of the second floor corridor of this more upscale hotel.  His door is open.  The room is dark.  I can see him by the light spilling from the open door of the bathroom.  He’s naked and on all fours on the bed.  He has a pillow over his head.  He is even bigger than he was last time.  I walk directly behind him.  The mound of ass flesh is pointed right at me.  He moans into the mattress as I undo my belt noisily.  The boots come off, the pants follow.  I unbutton my shirt and toss it onto my jeans on the floor. I lube my cock slightly from the travel bottle I brought.  I take a deep hit of my poppers.  I kneel and bury my face in his ass.

“AHH!”  You’d think I hurt him.  I spit in his hole.  There are asses I can eat for hours.  This ass is not one of those; it is just about getting it wet.  I lick and spit until the poppers subside and my head goes back to normal. 

I get up and slap my cock against his ass crack.

“You want this big cock?”

He mumbles something into the mattress.

“What was that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

I push it in roughly.  He gasps.  But he’s not tight.  I am in with little resistance.  I push my swollen cock in until my balls slap against him.  I hold and start a slow withdrawal.  His ass feels good, but loose.  I slap his ass hard.  He grunts and his ass canal tightens down on me.  I fuck him hard.  Until he is loose again.  I slap him just as hard on the other cheek. 

“Damn, Sir.  Fuck me with that raw dick.”

I don’t say anything.  I just keep fucking.

“Are you going to shoot in me, Sir?”  The pillow has pulled away from his head slightly so he can talk dirty to me.  “Will you be shooting a load in my ass?”

“Yeah,” I grunt out.  “If you’re lucky.”

He moans and goes back under the pillow.  I pull out.  I consider making him taste his ass, but frankly it feels like too much trouble.  I reach back and grab my water bottle from where I set it on the television.  I take a long swig.  My cock tells me I’m ready.  I move around and stick my hard cock back up him.

“Here.  Take my piss.”

I will myself to piss.  My cock twitches and starts spilling piss deep into his guts.  I can feel it go deeper than where my dick is lodged.  Soon, it backs up and covers my cock as well.  I am still hard—I start fucking in the hot liquid, forcing it deeper.

“Oh, my God, you pissed in me…you fucker.  You dirty fucker….you are so fucking nasty….” He drones on, half to the room, half to the pillow covering his head.

“Tighten up!”  I bark.  He’s loose again.  Really loose.  I want that piss deep in him, not all over the bed.  He tries.  And indeed, his rhythmic squeezing and gravity help get the piss where it needs to stay.

I fuck a while.  His hole is hotter from my piss.  I revel in that.  But soon it cools to normal.  and he gets lazy and lets himself go slack again.

I decide I’ve had enough.  I am not particularly close, but I think about Juan from a couple of days ago.  My cock swells.  I surprise myself.  I could cum in a few more strokes.

“You want this load in you?”

“Oh, Sir, I shouldn’t.  I shouldn’t take loads.  But give it to me.  I want to feel you cum in me…”

His rambling monologue helps.  I’m right there.

“Take it!”  I spurt.  Heavily is my guess.  It’s been two days.  I stay in him a moment.  I pull out.  A thin trail of white cum follows.  I push it back in with my right forefinger.

I dress quickly.  He starts to take the pillow off his head, but then thinks better of it.  His hand snakes back to his rather slack hole.  He fingers himself, pulling out some of my piss flavored seed and brings it to his mouth. 

I finish with my boots.  I slap his ass, affectionately and walk out the door.

Loaded

The Playroom—September, 2013

Juan has appeared in these posts frequently.  We have played at sex parties in Chicago.  He also loves to go to the bathhouse with me where we go our separate ways—but will find me once he’s been loaded so he can sit on my face.  I have joined Juan and his boyfriend at the gay campground in Michigan.  Juan went with me to Cum-Union on my first visit.  He has also dropped by the playroom—as I live halfway between where he lives in Chicago and a yearly business meeting Juan attends in Cleveland.  (Hit Juan in the label cloud.)

At the end of September, Juan asked if he could break up his trip between the two cities with trying out the new fuck bench…

 

Juan is upstairs undressing.  I grab the water I came downstairs for and head right back up.  And there he is—spread and ready.

I kneel behind him.  My tongue goes right into his hole.  Juan moans and tells me to eat him out.  He tells me how good my beard feels on his hole.  He tells me to fuck him hard.  He groans again.  My cock is hard.  It’s not just that I have my tongue in him, my mind keeps playing over things we’ve done in the past.  I think about him sitting on my face—unleashing a torrent of semen he’d collected from the men in the bathhouse.  I think about watching a married guy load him with his frozen loads—loads he had me push in with my dick since the married man would never cheat on his wife.  I think about watching Juan bend over a picnic table and take on any man who came along—all for my felching pleasure.

I stand up.  My cock is perfectly aligned with his wet hole.  The head disappears with just the tiniest push forward.  It’s my turn to groan as he squeezes down on me.  I press more.   I sink all the way in.

Juan huffs some poppers.  I pull slightly out and snap a picture.  I put the camera down and begin a fuck that goes from slow to rocking the fuck bench.  Juan is clamping down on my cock on every other stroke.  I slow down and slowly pull out.  And some cum comes with it.  It’s not mine.

 

“You had a load…?”

“I stopped in Indiana on the way here, in Gary.  This older Black guy fucked one into me in no time.”

“Fuck!”  I kneel and taste the donation made by some daddy I’ll never know.  It’s thick and sweet.  My tongue goes into him farther, scooping out the load I’ve started to pull out.  I spit some on the outside of his hole, and push it back in with my cock.  It’s my turn to groan.   I fuck, my balls slapping against him.

“Wanna taste his load?”  I bring my cum-covered cock up to his mouth.  Juan cleans it eagerly.

“Sling time,” I tell him.  I want to watch his face as I fuck.  Juan hops in the sling all by himself.  I go back downstairs and arrive with a tub from the freezer.  “I have three loads for you myself,” I tell him.  “It’s all I’ve had time to jerk out since you told me you were coming this way.”

Juan smiles and I hand him the condom I’ve collected them in.

I push it into him with my finger just past the sphincter.  Then my cock takes it deep into his gut.  I love the cool of the melting cum.  I can feel it go from solid to liquid and coat my cock.  It makes Juan’s hole even smoother and wetter.  We both love it. 

“You want to eat some?”

I nod.  And get under the rimseat.  Juan sits slowly.  I love looking up past the hairy legs up to that perfect ass.   He fills the seat, his hole is pressed right on my mouth.  The seat spreads his hole for even easier access.  I worm in.  I am rewarded instantly with a drop of the mixed loads on my tongue.  I grunt and swallow.  I probe deeper.  There’s a little more there.  Juan grunts and opens.  I have a steady drip of cum into my mouth.

Juan stands up.  I wasn’t done.  I wanted more.  Before I can say anything, he sits on my cock.  I’m still under the seat and can’t see him that well, but I can feel his silky ass clamp down on my dick.  He rides me, driving himself down onto my thick shaft.

“Here,” Juan says as he gets up.  “You should get some more now.”  He settles back down on the rimseat.    He’s right.  My flared cock head has pulled more cum within my tongue’s reach.  I get several drops instantly.  And then another mini flood.

It’s too much.  I tap Juan’s thighs—the signal for him to get up.

“Bench!” is all I can get out.

He hops on as I struggle up.  I make it.  Just.  I get my cock into his ass before I explode.  I pump the fifth load into him.  I fall onto his back, spent and happy.

******

Several hours later I got a text after Juan arrived at his destination.  “Found a hot guy who loved fucking in the remnants of all those loads.  Thanks.”

The Stripper

Near Home—September, 2013

 I was back at the bookstore which is closest to my home.  I had bought the combo pass, so I could go back and forth between the gay and straight theatre. 

 I am on my knees in the back corner of the straight theatre.  I wipe a fleck of cum out of my mustache and onto my tongue.  The man who just came in my mouth is all business—wiping his cock down, doing up his belt, and hurrying out of the theatre before some other man might come in and figure out that he let me blow him.  I rock back on my heels and just stay in the corner.  It’s the third load I’ve swallowed tonight.  I can’t find a single man to attend to my cock.  The few men here have all been eager to unload in me.  I close my eyes and lean against the black cinder block wall.  It’s cool and rough.  I’m alone in the theatre, but for the squeals on the movie.

Eventually I move to the low couch.  The faux leather feels more comfortable than the floor.  I sit on the side where the springs have not been sprung by the overweight porn watchers.  I watch the flick.  It’s one of those fuck-my-wife-as-I-watch videos.  I don’t bother to stroke.  I’m pretty sure I’m not getting off tonight.

The door buzzes.

The most stunning twenty-something walks in.  He is not tall, maybe 5’7”.  He has longish, dark hair which curls slightly.  A Roman sculptor would ask him to model.  He’s dressed in a white, white shirt and khaki’s which hug his bubble butted ass.  He sprawls in one of the chairs against the side wall.  He watches the movie intently.

I open my fly.  My cock is at full erection.  I stroke.

He glances at me, stands up and says “Do you care if I get comfortable?”

“No.”

He kicks off his penny loafers.  The white shirt is off first and hung on the back on a neighboring chair.  The khakis come down and are carefully folded.  He is wearing a cross between a thong and a wrestling singlet.  It’s cut in back to go up his crack, showing off his magnificent ass.  The electric blue spandex goes up to thin straps on his shoulders.  Most of his back is bare.  He turns and sits.  His chest, seen through the fabric, is as sculpted as his aquiline nose.  But there is next to no bulge where it counts.

His hand goes to his crotch.  He begins kneading himself through the fabric.  There is no evidence this is having any effect.  That’s not true in my lap—my cock is painfully hard and dripping.  I stroke it, showing it off.

The young man gets up.  He pulls the chair away from the wall.  He leans against the back of it, thrusting his ass towards me.  He begins doing deep plies.  But his plies end with a slight hip thrust.

I watch and stroke.

Finally:  “Can I help?”  I walk over to him, my cock jutting out obscenely.

“Yeah,” he says.  “I have a show tonight.  Stripping at the gay bar.”

I  nod.  “What do you need?”  I am pretty sure I know the answer to that as his ass points right at my erect cock.

“Spank me.”

I pause.  I remove my pre-cum soaked hand from my cock and whack his right ass cheek.

“Harder.”  He bends over the chair, thrusting his ass back.  I back hand his left cheek.  “Oh, yeah.  Like that.”

I hit him again. Alternating right and left.  A red glow is developing on his bare, hairless ass.  He swings the chair around and kneels in it, presenting me a better target.

I spank him.  As hard as I can—with him coaxing me on.  I spit on his right cheek and slam my palm into him.  The spit helps change the sound of it all.  And he loves it.  I spit on his left and paddle that side.

I pause.  Nothing ventured…and all that.

I kneel.  My tongue connects with the thin fabric covering his ass hole.

“Ohhhh…” he groans.  I try to work my tongue around the strap.  He wiggles away.  “Hit me again.”

I stand.  Right.  Left.  Right.

He gets up off the chair.  “Thanks.”  He turns.  He has a beautiful bulge under the spandex.  “Ready for work,” he tells me.  “This helps with the tips.”  He reaches down and ties a piece of rawhide lace around his cock and balls.  Tight.  To keep the blood in place. 

“I’m straight,” he continues, grabbing his khakis and putting them on.  “Well, Bi.”  The shirt goes on next.  As he sits down to slip into the loafers, he is eye level with my cock.  He looks at it for a long moment.  “Damn.  I think I’m about a month away from going gay.”

I wait. 

But his paycheck calls.  He starts for the door.

“Catch our show,” he says, over his shoulder.  “And thanks again.”

Once again I’m alone in the darkness.