The Kindness of Strangers

If you read this blog, you have likely read stories about Juan.  Juan has been on here in many, many posts.  You might remember the time he load collected for me at the bathhouse—and would come sit on my face each time he’d gotten several shot up his incredible, milking hole.  Or the time when he was my travel companion for a Halloween Weekend and several of us loaded his ass at the motel—then he and I went off to another bathhouse to keep the load count growing.  There was also the session where he was alone at my house, but I had a devil’s dick of frozen cum for our fucking, felching and snowballing pleasure.

I think it was while we were on the trip together, that Juan asked if I might be interested in using the blog to ask a favor.  Juan is attending a conference in San Antonio, Texas in March.  He was curious if I would post a query to see if there were any readers who would like to host a graduate student who loves good sex.

So I am asking for him.  Here is more of what he wrote me:

“I was wondering if any of your readers would want to host me—exchanging housing for a fun time.  Obviously, since I am there for a conference that is my first priority, but otherwise I should be pretty open.  The trip is from March 18 to 24 or so.”

So there it is.  I’ll add he’s a great guy.  And he’s not just a bottom.  I have seen him top and he loves that, too. 

Here are a few highlights from one of his profiles:  “My ass loves sucking cock, but I enjoy breeding puckered holes, glory holes or “gag the fag” type of throat fucking.  I am fun and uninhibited….a cum pig who enjoys my hole worked over and left gaping—or eating a hole out before, during and after I fuck it.  Felching and poppers are my high!  No chems other than poppers.”

If there is anyone in San Antonio who is reading this who is interested and wants to know more, I would ask that you contact me through felchingpisser@gmail.com.  I will forward any responses to him—and then I’ll step aside and let you and Juan work it out.

 

If you haven’t read the posts about Juan—click his name in the cloud (or right here.)

The Man in the Sling Room

Chicago—December, 2013

This picks up right after the last post about the piss party.

Ryan (of ‘Spreading My Legs’) and I stop thinking with our dicks long enough to get some food.  Fortified, we check in to Steamworks and go our separate ways.  I strip, find a clean jock, as opposed to the damp yellow one, and put my boots back on.  I add the chaps and harness.  The chaps are more for warmth—but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the added stares they cause as I circle the corridors.

I walk maze of the upper floor.  The slurp ramp here is empty.  The closed glory hole booths seem active, but I want to see my partner tonight.  I go down a flight.  The slurp ramp there is deserted.  Except for my fuck-bud Juan.  It’s an unplanned meet.  We kiss.  I mention to Juan that he should look for Ryan. 

“He really wants to fuck you,” I continue.  “He says it every time I do a post about you.”   

Juan thanks me and I tell him I’ll try to find him once he’s loaded.  I circle the rooms on the second floor by the showers.  I make great eye contact with a slim man in the private corner sling room.  His room is full of guys.  There are toys everywhere and rolls of paper towels tucked in the corners.  As I pass he holds my gaze, and turns his hairless and perfectly shaped butt towards me.  I pause, but one of the men in the room, turn him around and begin fingering his hole.  I complete my circuit.

I go down a level.  I watch some action on the fuck bench.  I find Ryan and tell him Juan is here.  The moment I start describing him, he knows who I mean.  He’s seen him.  (They meet and fuck repeatedly throughout the night…).  I go to the public sling.  A lanky man, about my age is lying in it.  It takes a moment, but I recognize a versatile man I play with at home.  He’s the perfect warm up for the evening.

“It’s kinda sad I have to come to Chicago to get another crack at that ass of yours,” I murmur as I kneel and start eating his hole.  His grin gives way to a heartfelt sigh as my tongue opens him up.

“Fuck, man.  You’re my first dick tonight.  Make me wet.”

I eat.  We fuck.  Both happy to have a buddy to warm up with before we move on to new meat…

*****

I make the circuit again.  And again I have great eye contact with the man in the corner room.  He’s in the sling in there, his head looking out the door as a cute boy slowly slides his fist up his ass.  I stop.  We smile.  I watch for a moment.  He turns away to say something to his top. 

I move on.

I find a 20-something who is ass up with his door open.

I fuck him until he begs me for a break.  I let him have it.  The break, that is…

*****
I make the circuit again.  I can’t stop looking at this man.  This time when he sees me coming, he clears the room and greets me on all fours on the bed, his head looking over his shoulder.  I go in.  His ass is perfect.  Beautifully mounded.  Hairless.  The rest of him is very slender.  His hair is cropped close.  His chin has a goatee that I want to nuzzle.  But it’s his eyes and his grin.  I can’t stop looking at him.  But I do.  I bend over and start eating the well-used ass.  He moans.   I dig deep.

“Let’s get you in the sling.”

“Where ever you want me.”

I dig in again.  I know he took a hand earlier, but you’d never know it.  He knows how to keep his hole in shape.  I stand, my cock rest on his ball sack.  “Covered or raw?”

“However you want me.”

I don’t answer; I just let my drooling cock press against his wet hole.  I slide in. 

People arrive at the door.  Some that seem to be friends, some who are just there to watch me fuck.  I put on show. 

I fuck slow. 

I stand still and pull and push the sling away from me. 

I fuck with a hip smacking intensity that fills the room.

Johann loves to show off as much as I do.  He looks at the twinks that have gathered in the door.  “I want to taste your cock.  I love it right from my hole.”  I don’t need any more of a hint to pull out and bring it to his mouth.  He makes a show of savoring the taste.  The queen-iest of the boys watching leaves…

Freshly wet with saliva, I plow back into him. 

And repeat.

And again.

“Do you fist, too?”

I nod.  And reach for a glove.  “I didn’t prep my nails,” I tell him.

He nods as I grease up. 

Two fingers right.  Two fingers left.

Then three and three.

I am in his hole in no time.  His ass lips firmly clamped around my wrist.

Our eyes connect.  I am right where Johann wants me.  I crawl almost imperceptibly up him.  Each millimeter I move sends waves of pleasure through him.   We are focused only on each other.  Eyes locked. A move.  A reaction. Another.  We are totally in tune.

Finally he asks for a break.   I withdraw.

We fuck a little on the bed.  I have either my tongue, cock or hand in him for hours.  I don’t go anywhere else that night.

The young man I saw fist him comes back.  He bring a friend of Johann’s with him, a hot hairy man I’d seen playing in here before.  The young one asks if I’d like to explore his ass.

“Cock or hand?”

“Hand, man.  You got a nice cock, but I need to get off.”

I glove up, up he hates the feel of that.

“Ever put your hand in condom?”

I pull my fingers together and we roll a condom over my hand.   This boy is young—but he takes my entire hand as if it were a breadstick.  I am up and slowly fucking him, barely moving my arm.

I look over.  Johann, who had been idly playing with the hairy one’s hole, is now pumping his raw cock up it.  They fuck—both watching me work over the youngest one.  I worm my way deep, with young one on all fours.  I hit his prostate—and he rears up, shooting his load all over the fucking couple.  The youngest withdraws from the room hastily.

The three of us look at each other.

“You should take his fist,” Johann tells the hairy one.

“I can’t now.  I’m done for the night.”

I nod.

“But I’d love to try your cock.”

Johan pulls out of his ass.  I look at Johan—I was hoping to seed him.  “I think my ass is done, too,” he tells me.

I slip into the hairy hole.  It’s a great contrast in feel.  Every bit as muscular, though.  He is milking my cock.  It’s not going to be a lengthy fuck after all hours of play—both here and at the piss party.

I shoot.  It’s violent and loud.  Johann holds on to me from behind.  I stay lodged in the flooded ass.  I can’t think of a place I’d rather be.

Until Johann gentle guides the hairy ass off my cock—and goes up it himself.  “You loaded him good.  Just like I’m….”

He doesn’t finish.  He just bucks into the younger man who now has two daddy loads in him.

*****

Johann wrote me later.  We’d met before.  I’d fucked him and his boyfriend at a party in Chicago years and years ago.  Once he said it, I even remembered the party.  It was a major night.  It was the night I met Juan at that same party.   He concluded with:

"What a great combination of warm human being and hot pig top. Your big cock felt wonderful in my hole and in my mouth (and loved how you moved frequently from one to the other), and your narrow hand effortlessly slid deep inside me. I wish our long session could have been even longer.”

A True Piss Fuck

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Cum Donor

Jackson—December, 2013

 The text alarm bleated.  It was Kurt.  He’s the man who brings the huge toys to my playroom.  He is also the man I have fisted up to the elbow.  He wanted to do something different.  I love variety, as any regular reader has figured out by now.  He hoped we could meet at the bookstore which is closest to him.  (It is the one with various viewing stations—all in one big room.  In one area you can watch all girl videos, in another it is TS/TV videos.  The gay and straight screens are side by side—so no one is sure which you are watching...)  Kurt only had time for a quick fuck before work—but he knew I could play there long after he had to go punch the time clock.  We agreed that tomorrow would work and set the time at 11:00am. 

I arrive half an hour ahead of schedule.  It’s a cold, early December day, and the video room has not even begun to heat up.  Maybe the regulars know this fact—for there is no one around.  I had hoped for a little warm up play, but I am alone.  At least the porn is good.  Eventually the room warms enough that I can remove my hat and open my fly.

Kurt is right on time.  He is dressed for the cold, too.  His tall frame is covered by many layers.  He immediately begins peeling them off and dumping shoes, pants and his coat behind the couch.  He takes off his knit cap, revealing his shaved head.  His goatee has become a full beard with the advent of the cold weather.  “I tried to get the boyfriend to give us a load to fuck in, but he ran out of time.”  I nod, as if I knew this was the plan.  “Anyone around who could give me one?”  I shake my head as I pull my pants farther open.

Kurt wastes no time in sinking to his knees and sucking me to the root.  He likes to suck cock—but would far rather have my dick imbedded in his ass.  Once they are slick with his spit, he stands up, straddles me and lowers himself down on me.  He grunts in satisfaction as my cock hits his prostate.  He bounces happily, telling me how good I feel in him.

“I need to piss,” I tell him.  Kurt is off me in no time and gets down on his knees.  I stand and let him take just the head of my cock into his mouth.  I have to wait a moment for the plumbing to go from one to the other, but I stay hard as I start pissing down his throat.  I pause so he can swallow and begin again.  Kurt’s cock, which was only half hard before, now stands up, all angry and red.  He loves piss—any piss—down his throat.  I go on for what seems like a long time.  We don’t spill a drop on the faded, worn out carpeting in front of the miss-matched sofas. 

The moment I start to piss we have our first audience member.  An older man wanders in.  I don’t think he can tell that Kurt is drinking.  It looks like he’s just sucking dick slowly.  The newcomers hand brushes the front of his khakis, but he leaves about the time my piss runs dry.

“Get on the couch.”

Kurt kneels on the edge, his arms on the back of the sofa.  His ass sticks out at the perfect height.  I spit on his hole and enter him roughly.  My balls slap hard against him. 

We get another visitor.  He looks like the typical, middle-aged, straight guy ducking in for a quick wank.  He sits beside us.  His cock is average, but suddenly oh, so hard with the live porn happening next to him.  To my surprise, he lets Kurt reposition himself so Kurt can suck his cock.  I keep fucking.  The newcomer cums fast.   I slow down.  With the guy still under him, Kurt spits the man’s cum into his hand and reaches back, coating my cock with the man’s jizz—the jizz that we both thought he’d swallowed.  The guy groans at the sight of the sticky mess on my dick.  Kurt groans as I push it into him.  I groan as the cum coats my cock and his ass canal

The guy gets out of there.  I fuck for a long time, with the extra lube churning out of his hole.  I lick some of it off Kurt’s pucker.  I also let him clean my cock, so he can taste the man’s load a second time.

No one else comes in to watch.  It’s approaching the time Kurt needs to take off.  He knows it’s way too fast for me to cum.  “Got any more piss?” he asks.

I do.  I piss down his throat again.  Kurt is beating his cock like crazy.  He shoots all over the carpet as the last of my piss is swallowed.

*****
Two hours have passed.  I have been sucking cock all afternoon.  I have gotten loads from a couple of young and hot men.  I have also given attention to a couple of men who likely don’t get much of that anymore—but I like serving a Dad.  When those now soft hands touch your ears and tell you it’s the best they ever had, I melt a little. 

And I believe in sexual karma.  God knows I will want someone to take occasional notice of me in 20 years….

In total, I have had seven loads spewed down my throat.

And I need to get off.  Get off and go home.  A few guys have sucked on it---but no one who could possibly get the load.

There are now two guys watching either the gay or straight porn.  One is the size of a house—a house with a two car garage.  The other is a furry bear of a man, his iron grey hair cropped close.  He looks familiar, but I can’t place him.  I sit and stroke with the other two men.  The bear leans over and takes my dick.  All the way to the root and with perfect suction.  I think I’ve found my cocksucker to get me off.

“I want that in my ass again.”  He stands, drops his pants and turns around.  His furry globes of flesh are perfect.  I recognize the ass.  I’ve fucked it and bred it on this very sofa months ago.  I am hazy about his face, but I recognize that furry butt.  I get him kneeling and bent into the sofa.  I eat him out.   Quickly.  I am that close.

“This may not be a very long fuck,” I murmur as I stand up.

“I don’t care.  Just give me that load again.”

I slide in.  His chute is hot and wet.  I wonder if he’s had another cock up there.  That’s all it takes—the thought makes my cock erupt.  Over three hours of play has left me with no control.  I  buck and spew my load deep into his gut.

"Fuck Me With Your Tongue"

Near Home—December, 2013

I don’t know if I’ve written about the Marathoner before.  I have seen him since the blog began, but there have been long stretches when I don’t hear from him at all.  He needs me for just one thing—my tongue in his ass.  I don’t call him The Marathoner for the length of our sex sessions, but because he is a runner.  A committed one.  He has an incredibly hard, hairy body, with not an ounce of fat.  He’s tall, lean and in his middle 40’s.  He goes through long bouts of serial monogamy when I won’t hear from him for months at a time.  Then a text will come.  After the ‘how are yous?’ he’ll get down to it.  “I need you to lick my ass.   When are you available?”

I got one of those messages in early December.  We don’t live close to each other, so we decided to split the difference and meet at the bookstore.  He likes to show off occasionally, and you know that I do….

I’m there first.  We’ve agreed to meet in the straight theatre.  The place is deserted.  The movie is especially loud with no bodies to help absorb the sound.  I feel my hardening mound through my 501s.  I watch very young, petite women on screen trying to wrap their mouths around black cocks that would make even men like the Cum Hound choke.  Then the door buzzes.  In he comes.  It’s the Marathoner.  He is looking as fit as ever, though I didn’t remember that slight greying at his temples.  He sits on the couch beside me.  We make small talk for a moment.  He tells me the current boyfriend is overseas.  “Not that he eats my ass.  No one eats it like you do.” 

The Marathoner takes off his shoes and tucks them under the couch.  He stands and drops his pants.  He folds them and places them on top of his shoes.  “I want your tongue in me so badly.”  (I should perhaps say that The Marathoner is a top.  He has never bottomed.  Ever.  Not with rubbers and certainly not bare.  But this he will allow himself to do.)  His cock is hardening as he makes that statement.  It is big.  Very big.  I always forget how big he is.  I think of him as the same size as me, but he’s not.  He has another half inch in length.  And likely another half an inch or more in girth.  I get the head in my mouth but that’s about it.  And it’s not what he wants anyway.  He wants my tongue in his ass.  To fuck him with my tongue as if it were a cock…

I spend just long enough on his dick head to get a dollop of precum.  I then turn him around so he can kneel on the couch.  I’m on the cold floor—my face inches from his furry ass.  I don’t lick around the hole, getting him ready.  I harden my tongue and drive it deep the first thing.  I tell him he has his own precum up his hole.  He moans loudly.  Now I get down to eating hole.  Swabbing it.  Spitting on it.  Swallowing.  Teasing it.  Drilling it with my tongue.

“Lie down.”  He’s in charge tonight.  He stands up and has me lay down on the naugahyde couch.  My head is right at the end.  He stands, his back to me and the couch, and lowers himself on to my face.  I can go deeper this way.  And I show him just how deep my tongue can go.  He is panting now, like he’s run a mile.  And sweating.  Even with the chilly room.   I eat him out until my jaw is sore.  Tongue.  Lick.  Slurp.  And swallow.

The Marathoner never touches me, except once as I stand up, to heft my cock and mentally compare it to his own.  He drags a chair over.  Its seat is higher than the couch; I won’t be bent over so to get behind him.  His rather bony knees are spread on the seat as wide as they can go.  I stand behind him.  I mess with his head for just a moment by slapping my wet cock on his right ass cheek.  I sink down and dive in.  The Marathoner stops jerking and reaches back, spreading his cheeks apart.  I slip in.  Is it really deeper than on the couch?  At this moment it feels it, to both of us.  It makes my cock drool and The Marathoner grunt.  He’s talking dirty now.  I am sure he’s close.

The door buzzes.  With all the speed of a sprinter, he is sitting sedately on the couch with his shirt tail covering his crotch as the man walks in.  I sit down, too.  The new comer sits against the wall.  He’s also mid 40’s and looks like he’s been out on a construction site.  He wastes no time pulling his cock out.  We expose ours.  He is average, but with the two of us, he looks far smaller.  The Marathoner nudges me to get back on the floor.  He won’t let me suck him, but wants his balls licked.  I get between his bare legs and do what he wants.  The Marathoner pats the seat next to him.  The construction type moves over—watching me work on The Marathoner’s balls.  The Marathoner tentatively reaches over and feels the guy’s cock up.  The next thing I know, my head is pushed onto the new guy’s cock.  Really?  This is new.  In no time at all the guy unloads in my mouth—all the attention being too much for him.  I swallow the cum, thinking we are done.  There is no way The Marathoner will let me tongue his hole after a mouthful of jizz.  The construction type mops up fast and leaves.

In seconds after the door closes, The Marathoner is kneeling back on the chair.  “Eat me out, man!”  I get back on my knees and dive in.  The Marathoner is extra noisy now.  He’s close and doesn’t care who knows it.  “Fuck me with your tongue.  Just like it was your dick.”  His ass is slamming into my face.  I actually worry about getting a bloody lip.  His hole quivers.  He pulls away from me and shoots all over the floor.  Massive puddles.  He can’t have shot for days and days.

He’s all business afterward.

“Take care.  See you soon,” he tells me as he wraps his cock in a napkin and tucks it into his underwear.  He’s dressed and gone.

I wait to see who else will show up.  I have had one taste of jizz—I want more.

I watch the movie.  I am so hard I’m hurting.  My eyes keep sifting from the movie to the glistening pools on the floor. 

I jerk. 

No-one.

I look again.  In the shifting light from the video, the puddle of cum looks even bigger. 

I wait.

I bend over and run my index finger through the biggest blob of his cum. 

I hesitate.

I lick my finger clean...

Friday Night Free For All

Lansing—December, 2013

I was on the prowl again.  I wanted more than one guy in my playroom.  I wanted to play with a small group of men—and I knew I would never get them all to my place.  I posted an ad on BBRT for where I’d be at 10:00pm that night and wrote a couple of local guys that I was going up to the bookstore that is half video lounge and half play space.  I was determined to keep the sling there busy that night…

 I arrive just before 10pm.  No one is in the TV lounge.  I see a few shadows in the blue lit play area.  I’m pretty sure there are blow jobs being given in amongst the alcoves of glory holes.  I walk around the maze-like walls.  Behind the slurp ramp I find a young, just post college-aged guy giving head.  He’s doing a young Latino.  I watch him suck—he gives special attention to the copious foreskin.  I can’t help but unbutton, stroke and make my cock available.  The sucker pulls off the Latino and samples me.  The Latino kneels and soon they are sharing my cock—pushing it back and forth with their tongues into the other guy’s mouth. The first sucker stands up.  He is wearing a Cape Cod sweatshirt.  His pants fall around his ankles.  He bends over, pointing his ass at me.  I want to taste him before I fuck.  I am beaten to it by the Latino.  His face is buried deep in Cape Cod’s cleft before I can kneel.  But the sharing continues.  The Latino pulls away so I can rim the ass, too.  I kiss the Latino before I dive in, so my first taste of that full ass in front of me is on the Latino’s tongue.  He responds with a groan.  I leave his mouth and taste the pucker.  I pull away, we kiss and I let him take over.  I stand.  The Latino moves to my cock, getting it incredibly wet.  I push in.  Cape Cod huffs poppers and flowers open.  I’m deep in him in one smooth glide. 

I fuck.

Cape Cod groans.

The Latino strokes.  And tells me to let him taste my cock.  “Pull it out of his ass and put it into my mouth.” 

I do just that.  He cleans me to the root, then manhandles my cock back into Cape Cod’s butt.

I fuck.  The Latino’s hands are all over me.  He tries to lick my hole as I’m pile driving into Cape Cod.

“Let’s go to the sling.”  It’s Cape Cod.  He wants a break.  The Latino is there first.  He shucks his jeans and jumps in.  I eat his ass, as Cape Cod plays with the prone man’s nipples.  My dick head pushes him open.  He’s tighter than Cape Cod.  He feels much more like I’m fucking muscle than soft flesh.

Cape Cod gets in the sling.  I go first, but I’m pleased that the Latino pushes his thick uncut cock up him once I take a break.

Guys I know begin to arrive.  Each hops in the sling:

A small framed bottom with a sexy, goofy grin who has traveled almost as far as I have.

A stocky leather pig whose hole I eventually flood with piss.

The tall high school Teacher, who I’d sucked off here on my last visit, now wanting his ass plowed.

I rotate through them all in the sling.  When they aren’t getting fucked by me, they either stroke the current bottom or go find some oral action off  in the shadows.  The Latino and the Teacher both are versatile enough to take a turn up the current hole.

I lose track how many times we do the rotation.  My cock is always busy…

*****

We’ve lost the Latino.  With good reason.  He’s bent over in the slurp ramp getting fucked by a drop dead gorgeous young man.  I take a break from the sling and stick my ass flavored cock in the Latino’s mouth.  The Handsome Man smirks at me.  He has a fuse as long as mine—he can fuck for hours.  The Latino is slurping loudly, getting all the ass juice he can down his throat.  Finally, he stands up pulling himself off the Handsome Man.  “Follow me.”

We do.  The Latino leads the way to the bathroom.  He kneels and takes both our cocks into his mouth at the same time.  I love pushing my fat helmet headed dick against the other man’s cock.  We then take turns fucking him. 

“Let me taste your dick,” I ask HM.  He looks at me quizzically, but lets me swallow it down.  I must do something right, for he begins a rhythm of pumping into the Latino for two or three strokes and then into my mouth for the same.  The quizzical look is gone— a look of sheer lust has replaced it.

I take a turn in the juicy ass still bent over the sink.

“Let me piss,” says HM.  He goes to the bowl.  The Latino grabs him and brings him back to where I have hunkered down in the corner.  “He’s a drinker—give it to him.”  Again HM looks skeptical, but I nod.  He has no problem letting fly a long, sweet load down my throat.  The moment he’s done, he’s back up the Latino.  He grunts and spews his cum load, then holds himself in place.  I don’t make a move.  I know the Latino wants to clean up his Top—so I let him, while I lick out a little of what was shot into his ass.

They leave together.  I hope it’s for round two.

*****

It’s late.  It’s time to get off.  The Teacher has become just a top after his clean out has gone bad.

“Do you want to suck me off?” he asks.

I nod.  It takes very little time until I have a mouthful of his semen.  I don’t swallow.  Cape Cod is in the sling, waiting.  I lean across him and mumble what I have.

“Give it to me!  Push it in!”

I kneel and reverse felch the load.  It’s even more than I thought; it drips and clings to the hairs on Cape Cod’s ass.  I stand.  My cock mops up the strands.  I fuck them into Cape Cod.  The warmth and silkiness of fucking in cum makes me shoot.  I explode with a loud grunt.

Cape Cod jerks off—with my softening cock still up his ass.  I mop it up with my hand and feed some to him.  He suckles my fingers clean...

Notorious At Last....

While working on a post for today, I had to take a break, so I checked the stats page for the blog.  Clicking to me from The Breeder’s Journal is still how most readers find me.  (Though more and more people seem to arrive by typing “felchingpisser.”  And there is one person who always finds me from searching for “gay rimseat.”)  Today, there was a new site which sent a large number of people my way.  The blog for Treasure Island Media.

Of course I investigated.

My post Alone with Cum Hound and a world-wide audience was picked up by their blog.  As is usual, they illustrated it with pictures from their productions.  It felt very odd to look at other men doing similar things to what Cum Hound and I had done.  The text seemed to be intact—something I was leery of—and I was glad to see they provided a link to get back to my blog.  Obviously a number of men had used it or I wouldn’t have known it had happened.

I have had a number of my pictures surface on other sites.  I have always known that would happen.  This is the first time, to my knowledge, a whole post (though minus my own pictures) has been re-posted.  

I’m think I’m happy…

Sexual Healing

My Playroom—December, 2013

The very next day after the 15 minute blunder with the Pursuer, I was on line.  I was pretending to myself that I was thinking about Christmas shopping, but that sham evaporated when someone new sent me a message.  The ass shot caught my eye first—what a surprise.  It was full and hairless except for the crack.  The rest of his body was trim.  The face pic—which wasn’t locked—was nice.  He had good, strong features with a shaved head.  He was 10 years younger than I, but I wouldn’t have thought it from the face shot.

He told me he loved my profile—especially all those kinks I’d checked.  He was up to try anything—and that he was brand new to piss play.  He hadn’t played in any way in a long time, he said, so please go slowly.  And he would only play bare.

Patrick and I didn’t waste time.  He came out that afternoon and was on his knees in the playroom the moment he arrived…

 

My hands are on either side of his head.  I’m just letting them rest there.  There is no need to guide the mouth that has taken my cock to the root repeatedly.  I finally have to pull him off me, he’s that good.  I get him under the armpits and pull him up.  We kiss.  He’s good at that, too.   I pull out of the kiss and sink to my knees.  I want to taste his cock.  In front of me, on both thighs, are bright crimson and purple patches.

“I should have told you,” he stammers.  “I have been having treatment for skin cancer…”

“Ah.”

“If you want me to go…”

“No,” I say, never leaving my position on the floor.

“Guys can’t deal with it.  I understand.  They look ugly, but they’re healing.”

I lean in.  My lips brush across the reddened areas.

He sighs.  “I’ve had no sex with all the chemo.”

I take his cock and easily swallow it.

“Stop.   I’ll shoot.”

“Let’s get you on the bench.”

Patrick straddles it, his ass thrusts provocatively forward.  It’s even better looking than in his picture.  He’s moist and ready.  I kneel again and eat his hole. 

“That’s so good….” he murmurs.

I stand up and spray some piss down the crack.

“Oh, my God.  That feels incredible.”  His voice is louder now.  And higher.  I kneel behind his dripping ass crack.  “Lick that piss off me.”  I do.  Devouring it.  Making noises of pleasure deep in my throat.  “Fuck me with that big stick.”  I could stay forever on my knees eating his piss flavored hole, but I get up and press into him.  I am at full speed almost instantly.  I am making the legs of the bench push forward.

I only stop when he asks if he can taste his ass on my cock.  I bring it around to him.  He slobbers all over my dick.  He wants it all.  “Let me suck you some more.”  I sprawl on the bed.  Patrick crawls between my legs and takes me to the root again.  I let him worship me.  I occasionally give my balls a twist to keep my jizz in place.  I turn him slightly, so I can lazily lick at his ass as he continues to work on my cock.

“Sling time.”  My words sound loud when the only sound has been his slurping and the muffled groans of the Dick Wadd orgy on the computer screen.  I get him in to the sling.  I point up to the mirror attached to the sling frame.  I want him to watch me enter him.  His cock head swells and becomes as purple as the ugly patches on his legs.  My dick enters him with just the slightest resistance. 

I fuck and fuck, rattling the chains.

I stop.  I blindfold Patrick as he lies there.  My hands are on his nipples, stroking his toes, caressing his balls.  My hands lightly feather across the flaming, ugly red patches on his thighs.  My mouth finds his underarms.  I hose his left one down with piss, then clean it up with my mouth.   I do the same with his right.  And his ass crack again. 

My cock is raging.  I fuck.  His ass is working overtime to make enough lube to handle the invasion.

A break.  We both gulp some water.  Patrick looks at the rimseat.

“You want to try it?”

He nods.  I inhale some Jungle Juice Platinum and crawl under.  He sits gingerly on it.  My tongue goes so deep into his self-lubed hole that he jumps.  There is nothing like eating freshly fucked ass.  I dig in.  I hear the poppers open above me.  After he has inhaled, he begins a slight moan in the back of his throat.  It goes up in pitch whenever my tongue goes particularly deep. 

Suddenly his ass is gone.  I didn’t indicate for him to stand.  I look up, my eyes trying to focus in the brighter room light.  Patrick takes two tiny steps forward and sits on my dripping dick—the dick I have been flogging the entire time I’ve been eating him out.

He grunts as I go into him fully.  He bounces.  Fucking himself until his legs can’t take the position any more.

“I have something for you,” I tell him.  He gets in the sling as I go to the freezer down stairs.  I bring back the sizable cum pellet I froze yesterday after the fiasco with my pursuer.   “It’ll be cold,” I tell him, as I reverse the condom and push the pellet into his ass.  I use my cock to get it in deeper.  Patrick loves this. As it melts, we have a cum sloppy fuck in the sling.

He tastes the cum that is now all over my cock.  I kneel and taste it too.  I arch up and snow ball a long strand into his mouth.  We kiss—sharing it again and again.

“I don’t think I can take much more,” Patrick tells me.  “Do you want to breed me?”

“Of course.”

He grins.

“Get back on the bench,” I tell him.

His ass is slick now with his own lube and my melted cum pellet.  I slide into this over lubed hole.  I want to do nothing in the world at that moment so much as to breed this man.  It doesn’t take more than one whack on his ass to make his hole spasm.  And I am over the edge. 

I shoot a fresh load into him. 

I can’t seem to stop. 

I lean in, letting him take all my weight on his back.  I just hold on.  His hands reach back.  It not easy, but we find a way for our fingers to entwine.  And just hold on.     

Pursued

My Playroom—December, 2013

This is brief. 

When will I learn the lesson here…

 

I’m on one of the vanilla hook up sites, sometime in October, and I notice him. It’s hard not to notice—he’s sent me three emails before I can open the first one.  “I’m new in the area.”  You got a big dick.”  “Breed me now.”  And there’s no picture.  Nothing.

I write back asking for one.  He has nothing on his computer or his phone.

I get a missive from him each day.  Asking to get in the sling.  Or to meet for coffee.  Or to let him suck me off at Home Depot.  Some days I get five or ten.

I keep asking for a picture.

Finally he sends me one.  It’s a very round, very furry ass shot.  I weaken.  It’s a nice enough ass that I can easily put the proverbial (and imaginary) bag over his head if he has no other redeeming features.  I agree to meet him at my house on Wednesday at 9:00pm. 

At 7:55pm I get a text:  “my stocky ass wsnts dick now..u ready”  (These are still on my phone—they are verbatim.)

Me, a minute later:  We said 9:00pm Still setting up the playroom.  You said you got out of work at 8pm—have you cleaned out?

7:59pm: “ lets do it now”

Me:  I’m not ready, but can push it up to 8:30.

8:03pm:  “ok8:30 chief” 

Then he doesn’t show.  I have seen a car go by and park up the street.  The phone dings it’s text announcement.

8:43pm:  im a stocky guy.that ok?

Me:  A little late to worry about that now—just come in if you want to get fucked.

Five minutes later he rings the doorbell.  He’ll win no beauty prizes, but he’s fine.  He’s nervous as hell.  He does have some gut, but I’ve seen guys with a lot more girth who tell me they are “muscular.”  His hair is thinning.  He hasn’t lied about his age—45.

“Let’s go upstairs.”  I have him strip down and get his clothes into the dresser reserved for tricks.  He’s in awe of all the fuck equipment.  I tell him to climb aboard the fuck bench.  He can’t get over the fact that there’s a mirror placed so he can watch me eat his ass.

And it’s a good hairy butt.  I concentrate on that.  I really don’t care that he is jerking about 4 inches of dick.  I spit on his hole.

“Fuck me raw.”

Well, that’s clear, too.  I stand up and enter him.  He feels good.  He’s not doing much to help—but his hole is tight (from lack of use, I assume) and it pulls nicely on my cock.

I pull out to tongue him a little more.  I’m covered in shit.  No, not covered, caked.  I looks like I will need a chisel to get it all off.

The fuck is finished.  He obviously had done nothing about clean out.  He doesn’t seem that bothered.

“You were too big for me anyways,” are his final words to me as I all but push him out the door.

*****

Once I’m clean—I realize I am still incredibly horned.  I so rarely jerk—but I have to do it tonight.  I find a disc of Peto Coast fucking and fisting Rod Painter.  It’s easy to insert myself into the action.  It takes a while…but I drop a load into the condom covered shot glass—the start of a new devil’s dick.

Surprises at the Motel with Day Rates

Detroit—November, 2013

I went home for Thanksgiving to the Detroit area.  I had every intention of finding some fun during my time there.  As is often the case however, being around my Alzheimer’s ridden Dad made my libido plummet.  However, the day before the holiday, the Cum Hound got me out of my funk.  I thought I was meeting him one on one at the cheapest sleazy motel we knew—but that was not quite the case…

 I haven’t seen the Cum Hound in quite some time—not since we were, unexpectedly in another state and in the same hotel.  (You can also read about the time I brought a mystery top to breed him.  Or the time we fucked while broadcasting it over TIM’s Fuck Roulette.)  I arrive a little early.  I’m eager.  I need to breed.  It’s been a whole week since I got off—much less fucked ass.  I snap a picture of the motel sign.  I like how brazen it is—letting the world know just what happens here.

Cum Hound answers my knock.  He is still in his three piece suit.  We hug. The room is tiny—all wood paneling and cheap pressed wood furniture.  The bed is clean enough and that’s all that matters.  I go in and strip down as he attaches his computer to the in-room television so we can have porn on a much bigger screen.  He puts on a Treasure Island video—one that is new to me.  He goes off to shower and clean up as I watch big dicks breed the willing. 

I am achingly erect as he emerges from the steamy bathroom.  Cum Hound crawls across the bed and nuzzles my dripping cock.  He buries it in his throat, giving a gratified sigh as he feels the thickness fill his throat.  I pump it into him, then I slowly pull out. 

“Come here.”  I get up and stand on the linoleumed area outside the bathroom door.  He obediently gets on his knees.  “On your back,” I instruct him.  He lies down.  I straddle his chest, a boot on either side of him.  My cock is slightly less hard.  A burst of piss spits out.  I direct the pale stream right at his open mouth.  He guzzles noisily.  I control the flow, willing myself to stop so he can swallow and not make much of a mess.  I let fly another stream.  And another.  The Cum Hound is rock hard—something I rarely see as he can’t stay that way with cock up his ass. 

When I finish, I pull him up to clean the last drops from my cock.

“On the bed.  All fours.”  Cum Hound is right there.  I bury my face in his ass.  I love the warmth and taste of his hole.  I need to stick my cock in him.  Now.  I get up and do just that.  I fuck him roughly.  Something he always begs me to do.

“I need this,” I tell him.

“Sir, I have a surprise for you.  I have two other tops coming to breed me like you like.”

“Really?”  The thought of fucking in cum makes me pound him harder.   There is a knock on the door.  I pull out and slap my meaty cock on the Cum Hound’s hole.  I go to answer the door.  It’s Mikey, the Breeder’s brother.  I smile and let him in.  Before Mikey can strip down and I can get back in the Cum Hound’s hole, there is second knock. Once again I open the door.  It is one of metro Detroit’s most reliable breeders.  There is nothing fancy about his fucking—he’s just there to drop a load and get back to work.  He rarely even gets all the way undressed.  Today is no different.  He takes his sweater and shirt off, but just leaves his pants bunched around his ankles.  The Cum Hound has flipped on to his back and is pressing his wet hole toward the new arrival.  Mikey finishes shucking off his clothes and sucks my cock. 

Old Reliable pushes into the wet hole. 

“You must have been fucking him for a while,” he says, his head turned in my direction. 

I nod.  And then groan as Mikey pushes me forward on the bed, deciding he’d really rather lick my ass.  His tongue goes deep and I take a hit of poppers, reveling in the unexpected.

“You are wet, boy,” Old Reliable tells the Cum Hound.  “And I’m going to make you wetter yet.”

I grab the camera.  Old Reliable convulses and shoots into the Cum Hound.  Loudly.  No one in this motel cares.  Old Reliable knows (and loves) the drill.  He marinates for a moment in the cum soaked ass, then he pulls out and lets me suck him clean.  He’s dressing as I felch a little of his load out of the Cum Hound.  “I’m leaving most of it for you,” I tell Mikey. 

Mikey grins and shoves his cock into the creamy, well–fucked hole.  I thank Old Reliable, and he is out the door and on the way back to his shop.

I watch and take a few more pictures.  Then I eat Mikey’s ass on his backstroke.  I stand up, catching Mikey’s eye in the mirror.  I push into him.

“Argh!”

Mikey fucks into Cum Hound and impales himself on me with each backstroke.  I tell the Cum Hound just what I’m doing.  It’s his turn to groan.  He is anything but a selfish bottom.  He tells Mikey to take my cock.

We fuck this way for a long time.

Eventually, I go back up Cum Hound.  Then the amazing thing happens.  He says he’s worn out.  “Let me watch you fuck Mikey.”  He lies across one side of the bed and watches Mikey get on all fours.  I can fuck with much more freedom now.  I slide in.  I have to hold still—afraid I’ll shoot.  I calm down and begin long dicking him.

Mikey rolls off me and over onto his back.  “Fuck me so I can see your eyes, Daddy Man.”  I am back up him instantly.  Our eyes lock.  Even the Cum Hound can feel the connection between us.  I lower my head into a kiss.

“Breed him,” the Cum Hound all but whispers.  “Let me see you shoot in him.”

I pull up, my eyes never leaving him.  My eyes go all watery.  And I shoot.

I collapse on Mikey.  The Cum Hound goes to clean up, leaving us alone.  I roll off Mikey.  He climbs on top of me, stroking his bright red cock.  Mikey leans in and whispers things in my ear.  I become tongue tied, my usual verbal ease taken aback.  My hand strokes his ass and he shoots across my chest. 

We stay, mashed together with his cum sticking to the both of us, until the bathroom door opens.

Then we are all business.  We wash up, pack up, get dressed and take our leave.

Mikey’s at the door of the motel.  I go to him to say goodbye.  He grabs me in an embrace.  “That was special, Daddy Man.  Take care of yourself…”