"What, No Piss?"

My Playroom—December, 2012

I had one last session in my playroom to finish up 2012.  Gary, the jock thief, contacted me that he’d like a session.  I had time and he was available to fit my odd schedule.  We’d met several years ago at a motel party.  That night he’d topped as much as he’d taken my cock.  But like many versatile guys, he loved playing with me, where he never had to think about turning the tables.

I should have looked at the three posts I’d made about Gary before he arrived and been reminded how far he’d come in his exploration of kink.  I always think of him as a simple fuck—since that’s how we first met. And it had been almost a year since I’d seen him. If I’d reviewed my last entry about him, I would have tanked up…

Gary is bent over, putting his clothes into the bureau in the playroom.  My cock jumps at the sight of his furry butt in the air.  He is approaching 40, furry in all the right places, and has continued to trim and tone his body since I last saw him eleven months ago. He comes over to where I stand naked in front of the sling, his cock jutting out in anticipation.  He kisses me lightly and sinks to his knees.  He pulls my distended dick out of my jock.  He deep throats me easily.  Then he attacks my balls.  I love a hot tongue on my nuts—so many guys forget about them when they see my cock.

We kiss lightly and reverse.  I have his dripping cock in my mouth.  Eventually I pull off it and attack his balls with my swirling tongue.  Then I pull them out of the way, hunker down and dig into his perineum. Without my saying a word, he moves to the bed, gets on all fours and offers his ass to my tongue and cock.

“Eat me good.”

I seem to be doing just that.  He’s moaning into the mattress, throwing in an occasional obscenity.  His ass is self-lubing like crazy.  I stick just my cock head into him. 

“That’s it.  Fuck me.” 

Gary’s hole flowers open.  I push forward slightly.  I can’t stop—I am all the way up him.  My groin slams into his upturned butt.  I hold for a moment.  Then begin the smallest of thrusts.  His hands are all over his nipples, tweaking and rubbing and pinching.  Soon I pull out so that just my cock head is left in him.  I plunge forward. He grunts.  I repeat it.  And again.  After two more, he asks for a breather.

I lie beside him.

“Let’s do the rimseat.”  I don’t think he’s ever asked for it.

I get under the seat.  His super wet hole is slowly lowered down to my face as he sits down.  My tongue connects.  Gary plays with my nipples for a moment, then abandons them for his own.  I work my tongue in deeply.  His hole is already puffy from my fucking, and tastes and feels totally different than my earlier rimming.  His natural lube mixes well with my precum, saliva and the smidgen of Swiss Army I used to enter him. I eat it out hungrily.

We go back to the bed.  He wants to ride my cock so he can control how deep I go.  He sits, facing me.  His hole is so slick we add no more lube for the entire session.  My cock enters him easily.  He rides me expertly, bouncing to some internal rhythm of his own.  I look at his face—his eyes are rolled back in his head.  His mouth twists into a look of sheer ecstasy.  

He reverses and rides me that way.

Then on his side—with me holding his left leg aloft.

“Damn, I want you to shoot,” he grunts, as I fuck with only three quarters of my length up him.

“Then it’s sling time,” I tell him.

He gets in. 

I eat and enter.

He works up a rhythm so I can stand still and he can control the fuck.

“What, no piss?”

“I didn’t have time to drink enough.  Sorry.”

“That’s ok.  Beat your cock on my balls.”

I pull out and do just that.  I slap my meaty cock head down on his sack.  By the second whack he’s shooting.  He hits his chin and the sling behind him.  Then he coats his furry chest.  I know I can’t enter him again.  I jerk fast.  My nuts contract and I coat his balls and softening dick.

We grin. 

And I promise him piss the next time.

The other entries of Gary’s times in my playroom can be found by hitting the “Gary” in the labels column or at the bottom of this entry.

Erosion

The Playroom--January, 2012

It was all planned. The cum I’d collected was in the freezer. The Cum Hound would be here. He was bringing another top. I had asked Stan to come fuck him, too. Then Gary, the jock thief wanted to play. I told him what was happening, and asked if he was feeling versatile. He told me yes, as long as he got fucked at some point. They were all due in the playroom at noon this Monday. By 9:00am it began falling apart. Stan had stomach trouble from bad fish the night before. By 10:00 the Cum Hound cancelled with a business appointment change. I sent a quick text to Gary--telling him he’d be the main course. That suited him just fine…　

Gary is looking trimmer than the last time he was here. I am not sure I’d describe him as a cub anymore--much more of an otter if I stick to those gay body types. He’s telling me, though, he feels bigger. He’s looking hot in his designer underwear. He’s kneeling on the tarp under the sling. I have a clean black jock on, along with my boots. He is ready to dig into the pouch.

I run a hand over his furry chest. He puts his mouth on the jock, inhales and pulls out my balls. He sucks them--working one then the other. Both finally fit in his mouth. My erecting cock is pushing the fabric into an obscene bulge. He uncovers it. My dick springs out, almost hitting him in the eye. He takes it into his mouth--and soon down to the root. The look of pleasure on his face makes my cock head swell in the back of his throat.

He comes up for air. His mouth finds mine. I’m surprised, but pleased. Kissing has not been high on his agenda in the past. My tongue pushes in. I hold the back of his neck and pull him to me. I slowly release and sink to my knees. I’m not there long, but long enough to get rid of the underwear, wet his balls, and take his decidedly shorter cock into my mouth. He’s buried to the hilt. I look to my left. There’s his camera.
“Do you care if I take some video of you sucking my dick?”

I grunt a negative and keep deep throating his cock. He holds the camera out a ways, even with his crotch. I pull off his dick, and slowly make it disappear for the camera. He’s beginning to precum quite a bit. Sticky and sweet. I lick more and swallow.

Soon we reverse. I hold the camera and let him show off for it. It turns him on. He deep throats me and gives a lot of attention to my cock head. When he stands up, we kiss once more. Deep and wet.

Rimseat. Poppers. And I’m under. His ass tastes incredible. It’s full enough, that with my head on the pillow, I am pressed right into his ass crack. I lick and eat until I have that moment of not quite being able to catch my breath. I hold onto that feeling as long as I dare, then I pull back just enough to get more air in my lungs. And begin again, with renewed vigor.

On the bed, he sits on my cock. I don’t remember if he’s ever done that before. I’m deeper in him, than usual. At least, deeper than at first. He’s set up the camera on the bureau. He records good footage of him riding my oversized dick.

He pulls off. And sucks me. I don’t think he’s ever done ass to mouth. And he likes it. I can hear it in the self satisfied grunt. And how he won’t pull off it. He sits back on me, rides it, pulls off, licks it and kisses me with the taste of his ass still on his tongue. Limits are eroding away. And I couldn’t be happier…

It’s sling time. We are there a long time. I just have to brush his nipples with my finger tips and his ass opens for me. I fuck. I piss on the hole. I lick it off. I insert and fuck him as hard and deep as I ever have. Soon I have to back off a little. But I play with his nipples again, coating them with lube, and he’s right back open.
I break for a moment. He asks for piss on his face. I don’t have any to give--and the moment passes, but I make a note for the next meet. I huff poppers and drill his ass with my tongue. The mix of sweet lube, his ass, my piss and precum is amazingly heady. My cock hurts it’s so hard. I guide it into his hole. He starts bucking back, fucking himself onto it.

He’s close. I can tell. He motions me around to the side of the sling.

“Stick your dick in my mouth.”

I know what he needs. “Yeah, straight from your ass. Clean it. Come on.”

He’s beating furiously. And shoots. Hitting his ear.

I move around, jerking hard. I dip to taste his hole. I bend and lick some of his cum off the messy treasure trail. I touch my tongue to his hole--rise and shoot my load over his ass, cock and balls.

I have to grab the uprights of the sling stand. I balance myself and, as my head clears, look down at him. His eyes are closed, his fingers idly mixing our cum on his stomach. I bend to kiss him. He lets me, but it’s more the old Gary, limits back in place. But now I know--I can keep washing them away, to help find his inner pig.
　
　
　

Return of the Jock Thief

I returned home from the piss party, slightly bloated, pissing every 45 minutes--and very happy.  I had played for 4 hours, but had never gotten off.  I thought I’d be writing it up today, but I found I needed some time to process it--to distill all those hours of sex and all those men.  As luck would have it, I got a note on BBRT from Gary (who I wrote about in “Bike” )  as soon as I signed on in the afternoon.  He wanted to meet--and I needed to shoot a load.  He arrived slightly early, went straight to the playroom and began stripping off.  He was down to some designer underwear as  I entered the room.  The young cub immediately dug into my jock with his hands and my mouth with his tongue.  This boy was hungry…

I return the kiss.  Deep, long, wet.  He’s on his knees.  No jock worship this time.  He wants meat.  My cock springs up as if it had not had a marathon the day before.  He sucks happily.  He can take it deep twice in a row--but always gags on the third.  I pull him up, kiss him and sink to my knees.  With one pull, his underwear is on the floor.  He sighs as I take him easily to the root. After a moment, I stand and we head for the rimseat.  I’m under, and ready.  The seat is lowered.  He pauses as he straddles the stand.  I look up the well worked out thighs to his shapely, hairy ass.  Almost as if he knows the show he is putting on, he carefully lowers himself onto my face.  My eager tongue plunges in.  He groans.  I get lost in licking ass.  I have no idea how long I lick and suck and chew.

“I want to sit on your cock.”  We move to the bed.  I lie dead center. And he slowly lowers himself, his back towards me, onto my rigid cock.  He groans deeper.

It’s my turn to sigh.  “That looks so hot.“  And it does.  My thickness disappearing into a nicely tight hole.  He rides for a bit, then rolls onto his side.  I hold his left leg and slowly re-enter.  It’s my least favorite position, but he loves it since I can’t go as deep--at least this early.  I fuck, working his nipples and kissing the back of his neck. The playroom is heating up with the last heat of the sun and our exertion.  We are both delightfully sticky.

Soon it’s the sling.  I am on my knees with my face buried in his butt.  My bearded chin is working his hole as I lick his taint.  His ass is making lube on over drive--defending itself from my onslaught.  I dip down and sample.  I rise and slowly insert.  Soon I’m making the chains rattle.  He needs me to slow.  I do.  I fuck--barely moving.  Then stop, three quarters buried.  He bucks toward me in the sling.  He is fucking himself.  He jerks his body forward--shoving it towards my unmoving dick.  It sets the sling in sling in motion.  My cock gets harder at the unexpected.  I can feel it drool.  He has found the rhythm that keeps the momentum going. I stand stock still and feel him impale himself on me.

When it finally stops rocking, I bend to see if I can taste my pre-cum.  It’s too deep, but his hole is sweet.  I spend long minutes swabbing out his hot ass.  I grab my water bottle.  I take a swig, swallow and stick my cold tongue as deep as I can into him.  His vocal lets me know he loves the feel of it.  I take another swig.  This time I hold some water in my mouth.  I open his hole with my tongue and push the water into him.  He gasps and jacks his cock harder.  I rise and stick my cock into the slightly cooled channel. The temperature difference is great.  I fuck it back to it’s natural temperature.

My hand is covered in lube and precum.  I smear it across both nipples.  He loves that.  Gary’s nipples are his chief pleasure points.  His hands never rest, gently massaging them or just running his fingers across them, teasing them, lightly rubbing them.

“Do you have any piss?”

I pull out.  I am still pissing easily from the day before.  It takes a second for the plumbing to switch and then my hard cock spits a short blast on his cock and balls.

“That’s so hot.”

But I’m barely listening, I’m deep throating his cock  and drying his balls with my tongue.  My piss is still clear and sweet.  I send another short burst on to his ass crack.   My tongue follows.  My cock swells and I re-enter him.  A short blast in his guts.  Just enough to feel as I fuck.

“On my chest.  Piss on my nipples.”  I love that on this visit he’s asking for it.  Converts are hot.  I slow the fuck, withdraw my sticky cock and shoot a stream that starts at his naval and then arcs up to his nipples.  His hands flutter across his hairy chest, smearing it across himself.  I come around to the side of the sling and slurp noisily.  I have pissed the lube away from his nips.   I take my right hand away from my cock and smear some of the stickiness across his  right nipple.  His hand goes to it.   Then his left.  I massage this one.  Gary’s cock is  being jerked hard and fast.  I move around and re-enter him.  I reach back down for his nipple.  I’m afraid he may be shooting too soon.  My other hand tries to stop his frantic motion on his cock. It’s too late.  He shoots.  The first strand hits his clavicle.  Then another and another.  I slowly withdraw my cock--I know he can’t take it after he cums.  I dip to lick his cum off his cock but he’s too sensitive.  After no release on Saturday--I have to get off.  I smear some of his load across his nipples, then with most of it on my fingers, I swipe it across his ass.  I bury my face in it’s wetness.  It takes no time once I tell myself to shoot.  I rise, stroke and explode onto him.

Bike

Playroom--August, 2011

After a very busy summer, so busy I could barely play, this was one of my first encounters once I was free.  We hadn’t talked much on the phone, but he’d let enough drop to let me know he was eager to try some new things.

I let him in the front door. I’m still dressed in jeans and a rumpled shirt. He is looking fairly Abercrombie and Fitch. I swig from my water bottle and lead him up the steps. In the playroom I point out drawers where he can put all those nice clothes. He is looking good. Almost muscular, 5’9-ish, cubbish, maybe 38. I think about the time I bred him in Lansing--during a motel fourway. And then how we’d met again at another group and he was sitting on my cock--or trying to-- all night. We’ve never played one on one. My cock stirs in the Bike jock--an old fashioned one with the wide elastic band--and one I’d been wearing all day at his request.

I strip in my downstairs bedroom, giving him time to undress. I clomp up the steps, dressed in boots, the jock and a leather wrist band, . I look at him for a long moment--sitting on the bed--his eyes glued to the porn on the screen. He rises as I move into the room. A furry cub of a man. We kiss. His hand goes to my jock and begins to knead. He breaks off the kiss and kneels in front of him. He inhales deeply--eyes tightly closed. Tentatively, his tongue darts out. He begins to lick the cloth pouch. For me, this is a very clean jock. Rinsed early in the morning and just worn all day. The feel of his lips and tongue are beginning to distend the pouch obscenely as my cock hardens. With his teeth, he pulls the material back so he can get at my balls. Slowly he makes them wet. Then it’s back to the pouch. He chews on a piece of it. The jock is incredibly damp. I am doing nothing but standing and looking at us in the mirror over the bureau--nothing but drinking my water, making encouraging sounds and absently patting his head as he is lost in the smell and taste of my jock, my cock and balls. Finally, I ease my cock out to the side of the sopping pouch. He audibly sighs. I’m mostly hard, but not all the way yet. He takes me in his mouth. He’s good. Very good. He takes me to the root repeatedly. Only once does he choke for a moment. I am now hard and dripping.

I pull him up. We kiss again, but he has no real interest in it. I consider sucking his cock, but instead turn him around and get him on all fours at the edge of the bed. It’s a beefy, full, hairy ass. I kneel. My tongue finds his hole. I reach for the small bottle of lube I keep in the band of the jock. Never stopping the rimming, I lube up my cock. I rise up, swipe my cock head down his furry crack--leaving a trail of sticky mess. I kneel back down, stroking myself and eating his hole--and shoving in some of my precum. I rise and slap my cock on his upturned ass. I’m so hard it makes a louder sound than I anticipate.

“Fuck me. Come on, Fu--”

He never finishes the sentence for my cock is driving forward. To the hilt in one swift thrust. I pull almost all the way out and slam it in again. This sparks him to be very verbal. He starts a babble about being bred. As if I am even close… I fuck. And fuck. I change up the stroke repeatedly. I never want him to know what’s coming.

After a time I pull out and pull him up. We embrace. I try for a kiss--but he will have none of it. Ah, one of those. No chance after I rim--though he couldn‘t be cleaner. What a shame…

I get him over to the sling. I just bend him into it. He’s standing, holding onto the chains as his chest is cradled by the leather. I drop down to taste and feel how different his ass is now, after all that fucking. Puffy, open, self lubing. I jerk as I eat. Little else makes my cock harder. I rise. He braces for the onslaught of my cock in his hole. But he gets piss.

I piss hard--never losing my erection. Not much. Enough to make him gasp. Then moan. The piss forms a little pool in the small of his back and snakes down his ass crack. I kneel and slurp it up.

“Fuck, that’s hot.”

I grunt and lick up more. I work his ass crack with my tongue until he starts to beg for my cock. I spit directly onto his hole, rise, and put just the head of my cock in him.

“Please.”

I lean forward and it begins inching into his gut. “Take it.”

He does--repeatedly--for endless minutes.

He’s flipped now. Lying in the sling, legs in stirrups and spread wide. I’m buried the deepest I‘ve been all night, leaning in and gnawing on his nipples. I pull out and slap my cock on his soft cock, his tightened balls. Without warning a stream of piss covers his cock. His eyes widen. Without missing a beat I shove it up his ass--still streaming piss.

“God--yes….that’s so hot.”

He’s right. It has taken the temperature of his butt through the roof. I begin to fuck the moment I stop pissing. I am pretty sure this will be the breeding moment. I try to keep it slow for a bit, but I just can’t. I pile drive into his ass. He can see it in my twisted face. He begins to vocally egg me on to cum.

“Breed me.”

My cockhead expands.

“C’mon.”

I can feel it surging out of my balls.

“Do it!”

His ass constricts. I shoot with a terrific grunt and collapse on to him.

When I can talk, I pull out carefully. A private Niagara of cum and piss falls to the tarp below the sling. As I reach for a towel on the dresser, I ask if he wants to get off . I hand it to him and see that he shot, never having gotten hard. I peel off the sopping jock and hang it on the sling stand. I towel him dry. I love that moment--the wipe down of all the areas I’ve just been abusing. I ask if he wants to shower.  No, he’d like to take it all home…

He is dressed and gone in no time. I go back upstairs. As I start to collect the towels, I notice the jock is no longer on the stand. I do a quick search--but I know where it is. I’m hoping that at some point tonight or tomorrow  it will be pressed to his face while stroking, as he relives each moment.