St. Louis—February, 2014
I have two great friends and fuck buds in St. Louis. The man I’ve known slightly longer, I met at the bathhouse. We played there regularly when I was in town, until he finally said, “I should throw a sex party for you at my house. We’d be a lot more comfortable.” And he did. And still does each year on my last night in town. But that’s the next post.
Joe and I met about six years ago. He had come up to Chicago. I was in the back corner of the bar, with the piss party going full swing, when someone told me to go check out the new arrival. I looked over his shoulder and there was this handsome, built man wearing nothing but a jock kneeling in the middle of the room begging for piss. And he was getting it. From all sides. I went up to him. Our eyes connected as I hauled my semi hard cock out of my jock. I gave him a mouth full. I then let it play on his hard cock. I told him to stand up and bend over. He did, holding on to the bar, and I let it run over his ass crack. As soon as my stream ran dry, I fell to my knees to lick his wet, piss drenched hole.
Of course I fucked him.
And, after the party he followed me to my motel where he took part in a gang seeding of Juan (who crops up so often in these pages.)
We don’t see each other often—occasionally back in Chicago, but usually in St Louis where Joe now lives. If you haven’t read the entries of “Two Scent Pigs” and “Three Scent Pigs” you will find them by clicking on the titles in this sentence—or under “Joe” in the topics cloud to the right—which also brings up a couple of pictures of him.
This trip, he came to see me Friday night. I was wearing nothing but my metal cock ring as I let him in to the posh hotel room. We kissed at the door. Just lightly. I sat down on the leather chair in the darkened corner, my feet up on the matching leather ottoman, and looked at him as he got rid of the heavy winter coat…
“Now strip for me…”
Joe grins. His shirt opens. His biceps are bigger every time I see him. His shoes are kicked off. Joe’s pants come down, the belt buckle clanking on the floor. He’s left in a worn jock and sweat socks. He comes towards me. I take my legs down and spread my knees wide. He kneels between the chair and ottoman. A perfect fit.
He moans slightly as he inhales the scent of my cock. It’s been a long time since my morning shower. And he loves that. He nuzzles my balls for a long time. My cock lengthens. He swallows me down. He pauses about halfway down. His throat constricts around the head of my dick. He holds for a moment, then he opens and deep throats me. My full length with no pause.
Joe comes up for air. I lean forward and kiss him. This time our lips mash together and our tongues are instantly in each other’s mouths. I can taste my pre-cum. I pull back and spit in his mouth. Joe whimpers. I take my hand and cup it against the back of his head. I push him back down onto my dick. He goes to my balls. I hold him there. And hold. Then let him up for air. He gasps. He grabs a quick breath and impales himself back on my cock.
“Kneel up here.” I point at the ottoman. It’s just a big enough square for him to be able to get on all fours. His ass is presented to me. I slide off the chair into a kneeling position. My face sinks into his ass crack. I inhale deeply and push my tongue into his hole.
“You eat me so good.”
I lick and swallow. I spit some back into him and push it deeply into his hole. I can’t stop eating Joe’s hole.
But I do. I stand up and grab the towel I’ve been sitting on. I push it between Joe’s knees. My cock rests on his hole.
And I start pissing. Just a couple of spurts. Enough to get me back on my knees to poke some piss into his ass with my tongue. I slurp and gurgle contentedly.
I stand up and push into his wide open hole. Joe immediately clamps down, milking my dick. I fuck him hard. The sound of the wet fuck fills the room.
I pull out. I bring it around to his mouth. He happily, lovingly cleans my cock. He leave lots of saliva on it, knowing it’s going right back into his hole.
It does. I fuck him even harder. I pull out again. It’s round the ottoman again, back to his mouth. I stick it into him. He cleans. I sigh. And piss. He grunts and takes all the piss I give him. I save just enough in my bladder to spray a little more on his hole. I piss happily, kneel and lick it off his freshly fucked hole.
Round and round I go. Ass to mouth. Piss in. Piss on. I reduce Joe to a happily whimpering piece of fuck meat.
I can’t help it. About the eighth time I slide into his ass, I shoot. I clutch him tight, holding on to his hips as I buck against him.
“Fuckin’ fill me up!”
I can’t move; my cock is now so sensitive. When I do eventually pull out, Joe thinks it’s coming to his mouth. Instead, I kneel and felch. Not for long. A large dollop of sperm oozes out onto my tongue.
I move around, pull him up and kiss him hungrily.
I move around, pull him up and kiss him hungrily.
It’s much later. We are curled in the Westin’s patented Heavenly bed. It’s living up to its name tonight. We have been talking about everything and nothing. My cock is slick from more fucking.
“Are you going to CLAW?” Joe asks me.
I tell him yes. “You think you could make it that far north? I can’t think of anyone with who I’d rather share a room.”
“I sure want to, but my Mom…” Joe leaves it unfinished.
We move on to talking of other things. My arms are around him, my finger idly playing with the cum in his ass.
Who knew we’d be doing the same thing months later in Cleveland.
Joe in Cleveland--checking BBRT for men--his favorite picture.