A Jack and Joey Preview

Isn’t this an inviting ass? 

And those wrist restraints so he is totally at my whim...

I am trying to find time to write up a post about Jack and Joey coming for a visit to the playroom, but my summer schedule is working against me.

So to tide you over we have that picture of Jack’s ass above.

And here’s Joey—and no, those are not my hands…. 

"Real, Equal Americans"

It’s not often I get political on this site.  But yesterday…

Well, Friday morning, I was pretty blasé about the US Supreme Court decision on gay marriage, when two co-workers asked if I'd heard the news.  By the afternoon I drove home from work and caught the NPR report with a tape of the reaction on the steps of the court and the telephone call to plaintiff Jim Obergefell from the President. I made it into my driveway—and sat in my car, crying, for about 15 minutes...

A Bookstore Smorgasbord

Near Home—March, 2015

I had one last trip to the bookstore on the last Saturday night of March.

We can’t take our eyes off each other.  Fuck, the movie.  We are watching each other stroke.  He’s younger than I am, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket over a white t-shirt.  The denims are unzipped and his short, thick cock is hard as he jerks it just for me.   And it’s wet.  I can see it glisten as his hand moves over it.  His eyes are riveted on my crotch. 

I have my camos open and my jock is pushed to the side for my long dick to stick up tall and proud.  I jerk leisurely—half the pace of the man across from me.  There are others here in the straight theatre, but we only have eyes for each other.

The door opens.  A man in a black hoodie enters, the hood obscuring most of his face.   The man, who I was already envisioning down on his knees in front of me, takes one look at the hooded man, pulls his pants shut and bolts for the door.  His partner?  His boss?   The hooded man sits next to me.  The hood goes back.  He’s very handsome.  Rather long blond hair, mid 30’s to early 40’s.  He makes a show of unzipping his work pants and shoving his hand into the contents below.

“Oh, yeah,” he says a little too loudly for the room, while looking at my dick.  He sinks to the floor in front of me.  I wonder if he’s on something.  He reaches up and takes my dick in his hand.  And squeezes.  Hard.  I pry his hand off my cock.  He back hands my erection—watching it bounce.  It’s too hard.  My cock is not pleased. 

“Stop…”

“Let me suck it…” He adjusts himself and sinks down on my cock.  His mouth is good.  Almost good enough to forgive him the rough treatment of my dick.

And I do.  Until he bites me.  On purpose and hard.

I stand and shove him away.  He hasn’t a clue what he’s done.  He comes toward me.

“Don’t touch me.”  I grab my water bottle, pull my pants around what is left of my erection and leave the room.

I try to find the man with the great eye contact.  He’s nowhere.  Gone.

I settle in the gay cinema, where I’m the only occupant.

I don’t even try to jerk for a bit, letting my dick recover.  I move towards the screen and in the white light from the screen, check my penis.  The skin is not broken.  I sit back down.  My cock eventually plumps as I watch the screen where a muscle daddy is getting fucked by two different men.  The door opens.  A very large Black man comes into the room.  He sits near me and watches me stroke.

“Can I suck you?”

I hesitate for a moment, but then take my hand away from my dick.  “Carefully,” I tell him.

He settles his bulk down in front of my spread legs.  His leans forward and takes me to the root in one gulp.  His mouth is velvet.   He is the perfect remedy for the drunk or high jerk in the other room. My cocksucker is going for the gold.  I slow him down.  I have barely been in the building for half an hour.

I finally stop him.  I promise I will let him have more of it later.

*****

Back in the straight theatre, a young Cross Dresser in full regalia is on the couch and sucking the man in front of her.  I watch, as the suckee reaches down and feels under the frilly, red skirt for the CD’s hole.  He sits next to her.  Before long, she rides him until he shoots.  I stroke as I watch.  She gets off him—and only then do I see the condom.  A very full one.

I watch her suck off another eager man.

Then she approaches me.  “I’d love to suck that.”

I nod.

She hands me a condom.

“For a blow job?” I ask.  I shake my head and go back to the gay side.

Once there I suck off an older man—with no condom—and swallow his load as he claws at the wall in pleasure.

*****

I let the Black man suck me for a long time.  I am no longer in danger of getting off---even with his expert skills.  He finally stops when it’s clear he isn’t getting my load.  At least not yet.

I stroke.  There are a few men scattered around the gay theatre now, but no one seems interested.

The door opens.  A cute young man enters.  Blond and toned—William Higgins could have made him a porn star in 1980—with a sizable bulge in his khakis.  He sits next to me, watching my every stroke.  I see him squeeze the front of his pants.

“Make I suck you?”

I nod. 

He is down on his knees, making himself at home between my legs.  He licks my balls first.  I groan.  My balls never get enough attention, over shadowed as they are by the dick.  His mouth and tongue cover every inch of my hairy nut sack.  Then he begins inching up the cock.  He pauses every inch or so, pulling off it and looking at the shaft.   He sighs with pleasure and goes back to licking.  Up another inch.  Pause.  Moan.  Lick.

I am squirming—he has yet to open his mouth and take the head and shaft into his throat.  I want it.  Now.

And he knows it.

He goes back to my balls.

“Suck it,” I all but beg.

It’s what he’s been waiting for me to say.  He is down on my cock instantly.  I am firmly encased in his throat.  His lips are in my overgrown pubes.  He pulls up slowly—then impales himself on me again.  And again.

It’s the right suction.  The right tongue action. 

I am actually going to blow in his mouth.

I do.  I hold his head in place and shoot down his throat.  He tongues me until I can’t stand any more. 

He stands up.  His average cock is amazingly red and angry looking.  He strokes it once—turning slightly so as not to hit me with his jizz.

“Don’t waste it.” 

I’m out of the chair and on my knees.  He shoots the first shot all over my beard.  The rest is in my mouth.  I milk him—for as long as he did me—and until he squirms from between my lips.  He pulls me up—and initiates the kiss.  We stick cummy tongues into the other’s mouth.

He pulls out of the kiss.  “I love Daddy dick,” he whispers.

*****

Normally, I would leave.  But I don’t.  Maybe it is the arrival of the straight couple right around that time.  I can hear her through the room divide. I pull myself together and go to watch.  The room is alive with jerkers.  They are watching the action on the couch.  A short, plumpish middle aged woman is giving a blow job.  The man she is sucking is the young guy I’d fingered and blown on a recent visit, while he talked of his girlfriend.  The woman’s boyfriend isn’t even watching the action, but is busy on his cell phone.  Soon the BJ progresses to a covered fuck. 

I stop watching them and concentrate on the man next to me.  I guess him at early 60’s, once extremely fit, though softer now.  He reminds me a gym teacher I always wanted and never had.  His cock has little length, but it has an incredibly fat head on it.  I open my pants.  My cock is standing back up.  I really, really want to suck this man off.

The man glances at my movement and catches a glimpse of my dick.  Suddenly, he doesn’t know where to look—the fuck on his left or me on his right.  He looks like he’s at a tennis match as he goes back and forth between the two.

The young man cums in the rubber inside the woman.  There are no other takers for her.  They all just want to watch.  She goes out with the BF.  The crowd disperses.

Except for the man next to me.  He gets up and moves to the wall behind the door—where everyone goes when they want a little privacy for a blowjob.  I move to him, not bothering to cover my swinging erection.  His pants are down, his bare ass pressed against the wall as he jerks.

I lean in close to his ear and whisper “You want me to suck it?”

“No!”  He’s very loud in the deserted room.  Then, softer:  “Just let me feel you.”

I let his left hand grope and slide along my erection as he beats himself off.  I pull out of his hand and  slap my cock on his naked hip and thigh.  He turns slightly.  I whack his furry ass, leaving a slug trail of ooze.

That does it.

He shoots.  My left hand reaches down and catches over half his load without touching him.

“Oh, my God…” he whispers, spent and leaning against the cold cinderblock.

I show him the load in my hand.

He can’t take his eyes off me as I lick my webbed fingers clean…

Blindfolded

Kalamazoo—March, 2015

I hadn’t seen him for a long time.  I used to go to his motel sex parties.  They were all very civilized—the type where you all stay dressed to meet and chat before you suck and occasionally fuck.  They were always peopled with men from 45 to 65.  All rather upscale and genteel.  And always pretty vanilla.  The groups could also easily slide into more talk than action.  You know the type of thing— that dreaded “My new condo in Fort Lauderdale is huge…” type of chatter which makes dicks go limp in Trojans.

But this was different.  He wrote me a note saying he wanted a three-way:  two leather tops to work him over.  I knew the other top he mentioned.  (I didn’t tell my f-bud that I’d also fucked the top he named.)  He asked if I would bring the sling.  It was a convenient evening, right at the end of March.  So I packed up the sling.  I threw in the rimseat for good measure.  And with a slight sigh, included the Magnums in my gym bag of leathers…

It’s a rambling, Victorian house in the heart of downtown.  Easy to find.  Easy to unload all the equipment, even in the light rain.  I set it all up in the front living room—where a very large wide screen television is playing European twink porn.

I get dressed in the bathroom—chaps, harness, the least used of the white jocks, boots, wrist cuff.  I walk into the space.  The top, Jerry, has changed too—chaps, harness, and an elaborate cod piece.  He has a great chest under the harness.  And a head as clean shaven as mine.

The bottom, Tyler, the man I know better, comes down from upstairs in nothing but a blue jock.  He has just hit 60, but his body is one of a man a good 15 years younger—a trim waist, boyish features and a great smile.

We meet at the base of the sling.  I know Tyler and Jerry play often.  They kiss, deeply, grinding their bodies against each other.  I attack Tyler’s ear with my tongue.  I am then welcomed into a three-way kiss.  Tongues probe and retreat. 

Jerry and I end up kissing with Tyler taking turns on our cocks—once he figures out how to get the codpiece off of Jerry’s burgeoning dick.  Jerry and I make sure we swap a lot of spit, knowing it’s not Tyler’s thing.

Tyler stands.  Jerry replaces him sucking the two dicks.  Both cock heads barely fit in his mouth. 

Then it’s my turn on my knees.  I’ve forgotten how thick Jerry can get.  He’s fully erect and starting to drool.  I swallow his precum.  I make sure I include both sets of balls.

Still kneeling, I bend Tyler at the waist.  He sucks Jerry.  I get my first taste of his ass.  He groans as my tongue works deeper and deeper.  He expects me to suit up and fuck.  But I don’t.  I just keep teasing him, opening him fully with my tongue.

I get under the rimseat.  Tyler sits on it.  My tongue invades his spit sodden hole.  Jerry stands astride my chest and has Tyler suck his cock.  I beat my cock relentlessly as I slurp away at the almost hairless ass.  Suddenly, my hand is batted away from my dick.  It’s replaced by a very wet mouth.  It has to be Jerry, but I have been so lost in the moment, I never felt him move.  Tyler reaches down and begins to twist my nipples.  He knows they like some attention—though they rarely get it.  But he is relentless—and they are soon throbbing.

And still we don’t fuck.

Jerry holds on to the sling frame.  I work on his large, plump nipples while Tyler sucks his cock. 

Finally I get Tyler into the sling and stick my latexed cock up his spit slick hole.  I fuck until we both need a breather.

“It’s your turn,” Jerry tells me.

“For what?”

“In the sling.”

I get in.  Tyler kneels and begins to rim me.  I watch him for a second, then all is blackness.  Jerry has tied a bandanna around my eyes.  “Relax,” he whispers in my ear.

And he begins.  A relentless devouring of my already sensitive nipples.  With his tongue.  With his teeth.  With some sort of brush.  With some sort of vibrator.  Then we are back to the brush.  This time it comes alive, and is pulsing.  My nipples are screaming.

But my cock is loving the attention.  Every time I am on the verge of telling him to stop, Jerry kisses me and I am silenced with his tongue down my throat.  

Again and again.

I think a feather caresses my swollen nipples.

Tyler has moved occasionally to licking my balls.

I could shoot if anyone touched my cock.

But they don’t.  Do they know how close I am from my breathing?

Now it’s a soft cloth—likely a silk scarf playing over my chest.

The blindfold is pulled off.

Tyler swallows my cock—but with the return to light, my orgasm recedes.

I am able to get up.

To fuck Tyler. 

So hard it makes him cum all over himself.

I pull off the rubber and stroke.  I am nowhere near close to shooting.

Until Jerry stands behind me.  His cock pushes into my ass crack and his hands brush my abused nipples.

Instantly, I unload all over Tyler’s cock and balls, while Jerry presses against me.

No Time to Write

So far my summer is busier than ever.  

There has been little time to write...

much less have sex.

I began a piece tonight...

but it was not remotely ready for publication.

So we'll look at me getting blown on the railroad track a couple of summers ago.

Sunday at the Bookstore

Near Home—March, 2015

I’d fallen into a rut.  I was going to the bookstore almost every Friday night.  I was now able to predict who would be there with me.  I wanted to break the routine—at least by a little.  I went on a Sunday afternoon.  What a change…

I buy my ticket—the one that allows me to go to both theatres.  I hear the good looking man in line behind me buy not only both theatres, but the arcade as well.  I see him go off to check the glory holes as I go off to piss.  I add my cock ring once I’m done pissing and shove my junk back into the pouch of my jock.

I walk into the straight theatre.  I am alone.  I sigh.  Is this what I get for not wanting to play with the regulars?  I sit against the back wall.  The porn is decent enough—so I haul out my cock and stroke it to hardness.

The door opens.  It’s the good looking guy and another man—dressed in a black Treasure Island t-shirt.  Promising.  The good looking one sits next to me and unzips.  His cock is hard from the moment he pushes down the waistband of his white Jockey’s.  He has a nice sized dick, not terribly long, but with the largest mushroom head I have ever seen.  It’s a frickin’ portabella on a stick.

“Can I suck you?” he asks.

I grunt assent.  The TIM guy to our right, pulls out his dick, too.  The handsome man is good.  He is making my cock drool pre-cum.

Soon we reverse, he sits back down and I kneel between his legs.  It’s a slight struggle to get his cock head past my teeth—but once I do it feels so damn good in my throat I have to stop jerking myself and concentrate on giving him the best service I can.  It’s working. He’s panting in no time.  He pulls abruptly out of my mouth to stop himself from shooting.

The TIM guy kneels in front of his chair.  Both of us move to him—he takes turns sucking us.  I slap the back on his head with my hard cock as I wait my turn.  I find it amusing that someone devoted to Treasure Island videos hawks and spits, so he doesn’t swallow any of our juices, each time he comes up for air.  

TIM tries to squeeze both our dickheads into his mouth at once.  That does it—he shoots all over the floor and leaves.

I fall to my knees and take the massive head down my throat again.

“I’ll cum…”  And he does.  Straight down my throat.  I don’t taste his spunk until he pulls out of my mouth.

It’s ten minutes since we bought our tickets.  And the good looking guy is done for the night.

I catch my breath, idly jerking.

A young man I’ve never seen before comes in.  He’s short, with a dark complexion, dark hair and, I soon realize, a cute bubble butt.  He sizes up my cock and sits down next to me.

Moments later, without asking, he is on his knees between my splayed long legs.  He tends to scrape me slightly with his small mouth, but he is just getting my cock wet.  He stands up, drops his board shorts and shows me his hairless ass. 

“Fuck me, papi!”

Before I can react he has sat on my cock, riding me.  I reach around and touch his uncut cock—it’s short, but incredibly hard.   I leave it alone and just keep my hands on his hips, helping guide his athletic bounce on my dick.

The door opens.  We don’t stop as a rather large man enters.  He kneads the front of his pants, choosing a chair, where he can watch us.

Too soon we’re done.  The young man clenches around me as he shoots.  He pulls off me and pecks me on the cheek as he bends for his pants.  And he is gone.

The large man moves towards me.

“Fuck me with that big cock.”

I am in full rut now.  He bends, holding onto the back of a chair.  I push right into him—with the ass slime of the cute boy still on my cock.  He grunts in appreciation.  His ass is loose and sloppy—a great contrast to the cute, tight young man.  I fuck him.  I am sure you can hear my hips smack against his full butt cheeks out in the store.  When I have had enough, I do an exceptionally deep thrust and hold it deep in him.

“Oh, yeah.  Give me your load.  Fill me up.”

I’m not shooting—but he’s sure I am.  And I’m not going to bother to set him right. 

I pull out and go off to piss.

*****

The second load down my throat is from a new comer in the straight theatre.  He’s larger and older.  Nothing special—and quick work.

Load three is from the hot Hispanic man—the man who had learned from a fuck buddy that I like to rim. 

“I have my ass all ready for you,” he says as he strips down and kneels naked on one of the chairs, his full, hairy ass waiting for my tongue.  I dive in.  Another man joins us in the room, mid-rimming.  He strokes, watching the two of us.

“Put the head in,” I’m told.  “Let me feel that tip of that big cock.”

I stand up, spit on my dick and tease his wet pucker with my cock head.

I go back to rimming.

I stand and gently push just the head into him.  He groans—knowing he’s taking raw cock.

I pull out and eat him some more.  This time when my cock head brushes his asshole, he is out of the chair and telling me to take his load.  I make it to my knees just as he shoots.

He leaves.

“Do me.”  The man who walked in on us wants the same service.  His ass is fresh from the shower.  I’m easy.  I rim him until I get his load.  Load four.

*****

A bit later.  There’s a stroker in the straight side.  He looks familiar.  I finally place him.  He’s the bi-sexual man who I’ve played with a couple of times—and have watched him fuck any woman who walks through door.  (He loves to lick pussy—you may remember the Lady on the Cell Phone.)

He talks about how deep the woman on the screen is taking the big dick on the screen.

Eventually he joins me on the couch on the back wall.  We sit and stroke.  I offer him lube.  He tells me how he loves to bring his girlfriend here.  How they occasionally will share cock.

It is an excruciating long time before his hand snakes out and starts jerking my dick.

I take his in my left.  I hate just being jerked.  But I know to move slowly.

Eventually, he bends and takes me in his mouth.  Bad angle.  He kneels in front of me. He takes me to the root with ease.  Then he sits back down.

“That’s a challenge,” he says.  “My girl would love your dick.”

I tell him I’m open for that type of thing.

I ask if he wants some head.  He refuses.  But his legs splay open.  My hand wanders over his nuts.  Down his furry taint.  My middle finger rests against his hole.  It’s wet with the sweat from the jerking.  In moments I am up to the first knuckle.

“Finger my mancunt,” he hisses, his mouth inches from my ear.

I am bending my finger oddly.  I can’t go deep.  I move around in front of him, never taking my finger out of him.  On my knees, and with a straight shot, I glide all the way in.

The man’s head lolls back in pleasure.   “Suck my dick.”  I do.  Never stopping the finger fucking I am giving his wet ass. 

He convulses.   His dick spews a load of cum into my mouth.  Thick and viscous.

I aim carefully enough that my load misses his tennis shoes.

Popping the Cork

No, that’s not my dick erupting…

From My Side of the Sling hit a milestone a few moments ago—half a million pageviews.

I am sure the hot picture blogs can get to that number in a few months and Rob of A Breeder’s Journal can probably accomplish that in a weekend, but for a writer who likes to chronicle his less than mainstream sex life, I think it’s something of an accomplishment.

I have loved speaking with the people who take the time to comment.  I find it interesting that commenting has declined in the last year—just as my number of hits a day is growing. Maybe it’s hard to type when your hands are sticky.  It is almost universally fellow blog writers who speak up now—I think we know how much it means to have that dialogue. 

I was chatting with Canadian Kevin online last night about the impending 500,000 pageviews.  He is the hot man of the posts about Rough House.  Kevin wrote:  “Part of why I like reading your posts is because they are hot and sexy and get my dick hard, but equally because they are very well written – you are an intelligent man.”  Well, thank you.  That is exactly what I want, even need , to hear.

So, a big thank you to my readers, old and new.  I'm glad you enjoy what I write.

You know, I worry about repetition.  How many times can I tell you about rimming an ass before I fuck it?  But I will stick with what I said I’d do early on—chronicle how one man has sex in the 21^st century, the good and the bad.  And sometimes finding a scrap of good in the bad.  All the leather, the fisting, the piss and that amazing celebration of semen…it is just what I do—and intend to keep on doing as long as anyone is interested.

Devil's Dick

My Playroom—March, 2015

The next Friday night I’m at the bookstore closest to my home.  I suck some cock—but either they just got there and don’t want to shoot yet or they can’t keep it up or they really would rather suck me.  So I let them have my dick.  To a man, not one of them can give good head.  I ask each of them to stop.

My friend arrives—a good looking guy who regularly gives me his ass here.  He’s eager to get fucked tonight as well.  I enter him—and I can tell I’m hurting him.  He pulls off me apologetically, telling me he thought his hemorrhoid had cleared up, but obviously not.

There is no one else. 

I watch porn, but go home and add my load to the growing devil’s dick in the freezer.  No sense in wasting it on the crusty linoleum of the bookstore.

Saturday afternoon, Kerry, the self-described bear in the don’t-ask-don’t-tell relationship, is coming over.  He rather shyly texts me that he has new fetish gear he’d like to wear for me—would I wear my leathers?  Of course, I type back.

At the hour when I should be getting his “I’m leaving now” message, I get a different kind.  “Clean out issues—about 15 minutes behind.”

“Don’t rush it,” I respond.

The fifteen minutes go by.

“I am almost there,” he texts.

“It’s ok.  We both want you clean.”

Another five minutes and he’s on the road to the playroom.

Kerry looks great.  He is standing next to the bed in his brand new Neoprene.  He has Neoprene chaps, highlighting a Neoprene cod piece.  A zippered vest of the same material covers his back and chest.  A hood with eye slits and a large mouth opening of the same slick fabric complete his new look.

“I love how it feels,” he tells me, as I take off my grey robe, revealing my chaps and harness underneath.  “I can’t wait for you to piss on me in it.”

Kerry gets right up on the fuck bench.  He’s eager. 

I take a moment to look at that ass.  Within moments, I’m on my knees and rimming.  I go deep with my tongue and Kerry moans, taking a big hit of his poppers.  When I can leave his hole good and wet, I stand up and push my slightly lubed cock into him.

He gasps.  “I always forget how big it is.”

I let him adjust, before I begin the push and pull in and out of his ass.

“Fuck.  Just fuck me.”

I don’t need any more encouragement after the disappointments of the night before.  I pump him as hard as I can.  Enough to make the fuckbench rock.  I stop and pull out.  Kerry loves ass to mouth.  I bring it to him.  He devours my cock.  I go back and taste his hole.  He is perfectly clean—it was worth the wait.

I do it all again.  This time as I enter him, he winces slightly.  He takes a hit and all is fine.

Sling time.  I give him his wish and coat his vest and crotch with a load of piss.  I save just enough to coat his ass crack for my rimming pleasure.  I wring out the hair of his ass crack with my tongue.

And fuck.

But he winces again. 

I stop. 

“I’m fine.  Fuck me.”

I do.

I stop.  Once again he cleans my dick, contorting himself in the sling to get at it.

“Just a minute,” I tell him and head downstairs to the freezer.

Back in the play room I pull out the condomed lined shot glass.

“This is about 13 loads.  All mine,” I tell him.

Kerry nods, appreciatively. 

“Do you want them up your ass?”

“I’ve never done that—stick them up me.”

I take a picture.

I place the condom against his hole and with my finger, turn it inside out—and the chunk of frozen cum is pushed into his ass. 

My cock is right there to push it all the way in.

I fuck in my melting, multiple loads.  So cold one moment.  And warming with every stroke of my dick.

I pull out.  Cum is pouring out of his ass.

I push it back into him, having mopped up the viscous mess with my cock head.

I fuck.

Kerry winces again.  “I think my clean out was too rigorous.  I’m really tender.”

I stop.  I bend and felch some of my cum escaping his hole.

I really want to fuck in all of it some more.  A lot more.  And feed it to him off my dick.

But I can tell he’s hurting.

“Ok,” I tell him, as he gets out of the sling.  “But’s there’s one thing you have to do for me…”

“What?”  Does he actually look a little scared?

“You have to let me take a hit of your poppers.  Then sit on the rim seat and let my tongue soothe your hole.”

“Oh, yeah….” He quickly hands me the poppers and goes to open the seat.

I get under, my head spinning, and he sits.  The seat and my tongue do the rest.

A cascade of cum pours out him. 

And right down my throat.

It’s almost enough to make me shoot.

But I don’t. 

I save that load for the beginning of the new Devil’s Dick.

Following Daddy's Lead

Chicago—March, 2015

We are back to business as usual here at From My Side of the Sling.  I’ll be picking up where I left off before I stopped to report daily from IML.  My summers, as they have been in the past, are very work intensive, but I think I will be able to keep up my posts of every three days or so.  I have enough encounters to write up—which is good, for the dick goes into moth balls for at least part of the summer.

In the grand scheme of the exploits I record, the night before this piss party I entertained the young man who came late—and came early, leaving me unsatisfied.  I took off for Chicago, sling in tow, the next day.  I knew I’d find a way to lighten my balls there.

I look around the dimly lit room.  And sigh.  It may be a piss party, but today it’s pretty dry.  Lots of playful men are here and not one of them has hydrated enough in advance.  It’s all about cocksucking and fucking, not piss play.  Of course I have fed some, but I think that at three hours into it, I have only been fed piss just once.  And guys have gotten into the sling to get fucked by me, but no one has used it without me around.

I move behind the screens.  There, kneeling on what should be a damp floor is the first man I got in the sling.  He’s also the first man I ever fucked at this gathering, years and years ago.  He’s still good looking.  Still as slutty.  Still very sub—with a BF who wants you to use him hard.  And he can still make most men cum in his mouth before they know it.  He takes another hit of poppers as I watch.  He stands and bends over for the man he has been sucking.  I watch the spit covered dick go into the hole I fucked relentlessly earlier in the night.

I look around for the second man I fucked, but I don’t see him.  Short, compact, trim, Hispanic—and a man whose eyes were bigger than his ass.

“Fuck me, Papi, with that big dick?” 

I eat his tiny, hairy ass, then enter him carefully.

He howls.  Which brings an audience to watch us fuck.

I wait for him to tell me to fuck before I move again.  I build it slowly.  He doesn’t ask me to stop, but he never looks like he enjoys it.

He’s nowhere around now.  I wonder if he’s gone home.

I look around for a new man to fuck, but none of my regulars are here.  I stand in the darkest corner and let some man lick my balls after he’s pissed on them.   This makes him shoot his load on my boots.

I piss on a sub in the pool.

I turn around and suddenly the party heats up. 

Newcomers.  From Palm Springs, I learn as we chat.  If they tell me their names, I don’t remember them now.  They both are muscled, tanned and tatted.  They could easily step into those early releases of Hot Desert Knights.  The top has a full head of silver hair—the bottom’s head is shaved.  The tattoos on both of them are works of art—no random, unrelated inkings  here—but beautiful tribal swirls that swoop around their bodies and highlight a pec or point to an ass.

“You got any piss for my boy?”

I gulp from my Gatorade bottle and tell the man I do.

“Get on your knees,” the top tells his partner.  “Give this man some service.”

He’s a great cock sucker.  I let him go to town.  I finally pull out and arc a stream of pale piss onto his extended tongue.  Still pissing, I stick it into his mouth so he can suckle it all out of my cock.

“You fuck with that thing?” asks the top.

I tell him I do and that the sling is available.

“Open me up first, Daddy, for this big cock.”

I look at the top’s cock.  It’s gotten hard with watching me piss his boy.  It’s short and fat---with a huge PA on the end.

We get the bottom in the sling.  I can’t resist eating his spread hole.  The top behind me leans in and sucks his partner’s cock.  I rim and spit.  And suddenly there is stream of piss from the top.  Strong and dark.  It sluices down his partner’s ass crack.  I gulp some and push some into the hole in front of me. 

The moment the piss stops I hear, “I need to fuck him.”

I move out of the way and watch that PA disappear up the wet ass.  He fucks.  I beat my cock on the bottom’s chest.  I move closer to his head and let him bend around in the sling to suck me.  He groans, being filled at both ends.

“Your turn.”

I move around to the business end of the sling.  I dip and taste his hole.  Daddy is a copious pre-cummer.  I eat some, but leave most of it to fuck in.

I slip in easily.  The top hugs me from behind and begins working my nipples.  I fuck—and feel the top’s dick resting against my ass crack.

“You like to get fucked?” he asks.

“Not really.”

He grunts, slightly disappointed.

We change around again.  I watch him fuck.  I follow his lead and move in close and play with his nipples.  My wet cock is sliding up and down in the cleft of his ass.  The top grunts, and bends so he is chest to chest with his partner.  It’s an open invitation.  I work my flared head into his damp hole.

“Argh!”   The top arches his back up, pulling me out of him.  And it suddenly becomes obvious that he’s shot in his partner’s hole.

“Fuck in my cum.” 

I do.

It feels wonderful.  I fuck hard.  And shoot.

Daddy lets me recover for a moment.

“Get on your knees.”  I do.  Willingly.  He joins me down there.  He’s the first to lean in and get a mouthful of cum from the wrecked hole in front of us.

We kiss.

We snowball.

My turn. 

Lick and kiss.

We repeat until the man in the sling is empty.

“That is so hot,” the bottom mutters.

I had almost forgotten him, I am so wrapped up in the mutual felch.

I stand.  I grab my cock—and a perfect arc of piss lands on his chest.  I push slightly—and it lands where it should—in his open mouth…