A Quickie with Keshawn

 Indianapolis—August, 2023

 

Keshawn was hoping for another round in the sling.  He had come to me in July so it was only fair I should go to him this time.  I packed the sling—making sure to include the overhead mirror.  He loves to watch my dick fuck into him. 

I also packed the jock I am grunging up for my Canadian Friend.  I felt it was time, after my constant wearing it for almost a year—and it going to all the major sex events I went to in 2023—that it should have one last hurrah before being sent back to him.

I left extra time to get there—and I arrived at his door, at the appointed time…

 

The sling is set up in the space behind the sofa.  Keshawn is futzing around, finding appropriate porn (we both love group scenes.)  Once that is playing, I ask Keshawn to shoot a few pics of the jock.  The owner loves to see me in it—and I will be sending all of the shots to him.

Keshawn starts for the sling. 

“Bend over the back of the couch.”

It’s right there—and the perfect height.  He leans on the back, jutting his hot ass towards me.  My tongue finds his hole.  My cock, still in the dirty pouch, starts to grow, distorting the shape of it obscenely.  I work it out with my right hand as my tongue invades Keshawn’s inviting ass.

He groans.  His massive cock erects.

I work harder to get him really wet.  I lube my dick as I spit in his hole.  I can’t take anymore—I need to be inside him.  I stand up and slide in.  His ass always feels hotter than our normal body temperature.  I hold in place for a moment—and begin a gentle preliminary fuck.  He groans and thrusts back on me—making sure that he’s taking my entire length with every stroke.

We move to the sling, but he doesn’t get in it.  He bends over once again, chest to the leather.  I kneel and eat his freshly fucked hole.  He is as delicious as always and thoroughly wet from the first fuck.  I slurp on his ass juices for a long while before standing up and creating more with a hard pounding.  My cock is slick when I finally pull out.  Keshawn swings around and cleans me, hungrily, before he gets in the sling the standard way.

I kneel once more to taste his ass.  I gorge on his ass slime for a moment, jerking myself as I eat him out.  I stand up.  My cock gently beats his full balls.  I leave a sticky trail as I slide my cock from his balls, across his perineum before resting on his now slightly puckered asslips.  I push gently and my cockhead pops in.  He welcomes me with a squeeze.  I give him the rest of my inches—slowly, but steadily.

He takes a hit of poppers as I bottom out.  I watch his face and as they hit, I begin to fuck him again.  I grab the top cross piece of the sling frame.  I have built to a hard thrusting that is rocking the sling.  Keshawn beats his big meat in time to my thrusts.

I finally pull out.  I go around to the side of the sling so he can taste his ass on my cock again.  He cranes around and licks me clean.  Now it’s my turn to clean him.  I go back to his hole and lick up all the stray juices dribbling out of his ass.  I can taste my precum mixing with his natural lube.  My cock head drools at the thought.

I stand up and fuck him again.  Slow and easy.

“Fuck me hard,” he pants out.

I build my fuck stroke.  Faster and faster.  Harder and harder.  My hips are now slamming into his upturned ass.  The room is filled with the sound of moist flesh colliding. 

I slow down so he can take another hit.  As soon as the bottle is capped, I build back up to the hard fucking again.  Keshawn takes his hand away from his cock—he is leaking and could easily go over the edge.  I slow down the fuck, pull out and bend to lick up his precum.  I keep it on my tongue, going to my knees and sticking it into his wet hole.

“So hot…” Keshawn groans.

I add some more spit and stand back up, my dick instinctively slipping into his used hole.

“We don’t want your precum to go waste…”

My cock loves the extra wetness.  I fuck him slow and easy.

I pull out and with my left hand take the jock pouch and push some of it into Keshawn’s ass.  I know that the owner of the jock loves the idea of this—and so I do it repeatedly making the fabric wet with all our juices.

I kneel and lick his hole once more.  I hear him take a hit.  I rise up and slide in.  I intend to fuck him slow and easy, but my cock has a mind of its own.  I begin pummeling him.

Keshawn’s hand is a blur as he strokes himself.  In moments, he is shooting a copious amount of cum out of his big cock.  It coats his chest.  My left hand mops up some.  I coat the jock.  I mop up the rest and coat my cock with it.  I fuck it into his ass—the place where cum belongs…

**

 

Here is a link to the post of pictures of Keshawn that I created on the day this happened: 

Keshawn Wants More

Jerking for a Jock

 So to ease my way back into blogging, I thought I would start not with the group sex tales of March, but with how I have filled my last two weeks…

Over lockdown and as things eased, I stayed off the hook up sites.  I checked in occasionally for stray emails from buds—and checked up on a number of far flung men with sites like BBRT, but never stayed on one very long.  I didn’t want to keep saying “no” to the Covidiots who were still looking for cock in the middle of those worst months here in Michigan.  I did read some postings on BreedingZone, my one mild sexual indulgence during this time—as I look at the site as a forum of ideas, not a meat market.

A man using a picture of a thoroughly fucked hole wrote me on there.  He liked my stance on a number of topics on the site.  And liked the picture of my erect cock even more.  He asked for my email as he had a long distance proposition.  I gave it to him.

I got the email very fast.  He hoped I would be willing to jerk off in a jock.  He wanted just my cum.  This was different than the three men for whom I have been wearing jocks during lockdown to flavor them with me—sweat, cum, piss and the flavor that seeps out of my ball sack.  He wanted me to keep it exactly two weeks and mail it back to him with as many loads as I could add to it.  He was fine if I had other men around for them to jerk a load into it, too.  But no piss. (He had other jocks for that.) 

I told him I could do that.  It would be just me, as I wasn’t playing yet.  I had fellow employees in the house, but could manage a quick jerk each morning before work.

It arrived.  A dried cummy mess.

I slipped in Skynman’s Folsom Sex Party (a video the Professor gave me.  It is one I love for the sex is great—and it doesn’t hurt that I have had sex with a third of the men in the cast!)

 

I wanked out a load.  Took these photos and sent them to him

 

Day two:

 

I didn’t quite get to 14.  Life/work got in the way of feeling sexy enough to do even this….but I got 10 loads in it for him.

I also found a condom, with a massive load frozen in the tip, tucked in a plastic tub in the freezer.  It was likely an oral collection from a bookstore for the Fluid Pig that never got delivered…so I let that melt into the crusty jock for him, too.

I let it dry and mailed it off to him yesterday.  He promised to shove it all up his hole and take pictures for all of us.  He loved that I had a blog and readers who would like to see the end result.  I will post those when (or perhaps, if) they arrive.

My Old Jock

I apologize.

I have not felt remotely randy these last two weeks. 

Work.

The world.

The looming retirement.

Zane wrote that he was missing my scent.

I suggested I send him this jock.

I then added to its rankness with one of my few JO’s these weeks.

I sent him the pics.

He was glad—telling me he now knew where to chew it.

It hit the post today.

(I have two jocks ready to go internationally, but waiting just a little more on those, not know the state of international mail right now.)

The Fate of the Jock

Amish Country, Indiana—March, 2019

A blog reader sent me the jock which was being destroyed in the last post.  He wanted me to wear it to the piss party.  He hoped I would have it on whenever I fucked.  He got turned on by the idea of fellow pigs licking or chewing it.  He knew I would press it against any wet hole I was fucking.

And I did all that.  For just about two years.  Neither of us were in a hurry.  I wore it until it was too rank for anywhere but the piss party—or a pig like the man who owns the farmhouse.  I was wanting to get it back to the owner—and that’s when I got the idea of shoving it up the pig’s hole and pissing on it one last time for a grand finale.

I don’t think in terms of video when I’m having sex.  But I did this time.  So with the pig’s blessing here is the jock’s last hurrah, just before it was posted back to it’s owner.

Piss Party (with Sling)

Chicago—January, 2018

Alejandro and I went out for a drink after our play session (as if we needed more fluids running through our systems!!) at the bar where the piss party is held.  It was very early on a Friday night so it was the two of us, a chatty, mildly flirtatious bartender and one other customer.  Alejandro reminded me that with the dirt cheap deal he’d gotten on his flight, and with how far we were from the airport, that he would only be able to stay for some of the piss party.  We worked out he could leave his bag at my room and take the extra key so he could shower before he Uber-ed to O’Hare.
 

After one drink, and a lot of get to you each other chat, he went off to sleep—he’d had little due to other travel—and I needed food.

The next day, we got into the back bar 15 minutes before the party started.  I set up the sling.  Alejandro stripped to a jock and boots, and flirted with a new (to me) event bartender.  I got ready with my usual piss party attire of a piss yellowed jock (which I’m destroying for a reader), my old combat boots and my yellow trimmed Neoprene harness. 

And it was cold.  I could feel the heat trying to defrost the room, but it was still January inside and out in the back bar.  It warmed up about an hour into the play—the very time Alejandro beat a retreat for the airport.  I think he pissed on a guy in the inflatable wading pool… 

The party starts slowly.  The number of men for the first hour is sparse…nobody is rushing to get wet with the cold.  I catch up with a number of men I haven’t seen for months.  Some times that means chatting.  Sometimes that means an exchange of dick sucking.  I talk to the Coat Check Otter.  His beard has really grown since I saw him.  We spend quite a bit of time kissing.  And groping. 

The crowd arrives…an hour into it.  The room is warmer and the pissing begins.  I find the cub I met here who is also from Michigan.  I bend him over, so he holds on to the bar as I eat out his hairy ass crack.  It’s not even damp.  I stand up and remedy that with my first piss of the night—it goes on forever and leaves him squirming.  I kneel back down and clean him up.

“I want to get fucked his time.”

I ask if he’s up for the sling.

“Not yet,” he tells me, leading me into a darker area behind the screens.  He bends, supported by the bench that runs along the wall.  “I want that raw dick in my PrEP-ed hole.”  I kneel behind him and take another taste of his pissed out ass crack.  I hear the poppers open.  A huge hit.  “Eat me out.  Fuck, yeah.” 

I spit one last time onto his hole.  I stand up and prod his pucker with my dripping dick.  Once.  Twice.  I’m in.  I sink to half my length.  He groans and takes another hit.  I sink into him.  A man arrives to shower the Cub’s back with piss.  The hot liquid runs down the crack and is fucked into him.  The poppers open again.  His hole responds.  The Cub goes all guttural, making incoherent babble about cock and ass.  I slap one of his cheeks.  His chute tightens on my cock.  I fuck and fuck…

*****

A good looking, bookish-type is hiding out in the dark corner on the opposite side to the sling.  We chat.  He’s new to the party.  He hefts my dick and haltingly wonders if I have piss.  I do.  He gets down on his knees.  I rest my semi-hard cock on his lower lip.  We wait.  I swig from my water bottle and the piss flows.  A lot.  He manages to take it all.  The sheer volume leaves him breathless. He stands ups, rather unsteady.  “Damn…” he says, “Now I have to piss.”

I kneel.  I look up at him—I love the look of shock on his face.  He starts the stream before it’s anywhere near my mouth.  I bend and take him in—letting the head sit on my tongue.  There is as much volume as I gave him.  I suckle him down.  I save the last spurt in my mouth.  I stand up and kiss him—giving him his own piss back.  Our bodies hungrily grind together.  It’s only when I finally break the kiss I see that he has shot a load all over my bushy pubes.  I thank him and deliberately wipe them up with the grungy jock.

*****

I am near the sling.  A hot Ginger has asked if he can fuck his friend in it.  I assure him it’s there for all to use.  He plows his bud.  He gives him a load as I watch.

I feel a hand clap on my shoulder.  “Let the man eat it out.”  I look.  It’s the party organizer.  The Ginger eventually pulls out and I feast on his load.  He watches with pleasure as I savor his cum.  The bottom squirms and jacks his dick.

“Fuck, yeah,” says the Ginger.  “Now you can fuck me.”

I stand up.  The friend is helped out of the sling.  The Ginger jumps in.  I stirrup him up and lean across his hot otter body and kiss him.  He groans deep in his throat as he tastes his own sperm on my tongue.  I linger in his mouth a long time.  He’s a great kisser.  When I come up for air, I thank him by pissing on his ass crack.  I lick up another hairy ass.  I drill some into his hole.  Another man walks by and pisses on the Ginger’s cock.  It sluices down for me to lick that piss up, too.

The Ginger is panting.  I stand.  He may have just cum, but his cock has stood up again.  I push into his wet ass.  His ass is tight.  It clings to my cock on every move I make.  It’s a delicious feeling.  I am moving slowly, to let him get used to me. 

But he will have none of it.  “Just fuck me.  Fuck me hard.”

I pick up the pace.  I pummel his butt with loud wet smacks of flesh on flesh.

Another of his friends finds him in the sling.  “Fuck, man, I never see you take cock.”

“You want to sample his ass,” I ask this new arrival.

He nods.  I pull out.  He takes my place and fucks his friend.  “You are so tight…” the friend begins.  And suddenly he’s coming.  He’s fucking a load into the Ginger after maybe three strokes.

“Let me clean you up.”  I kneel.  The friend obediently pulls out and sticks his cummy cock in my mouth.  I tongue him clean.  I taste it in the Ginger’s hole.  I bring a wad of it up on my tongue to his waiting mouth.  We snowball his friend’s load as my cock finds its way back into the slick hole.  I let him swallow it as I stand back up and fuck.

We only stop when the Ginger asks for a breather.

*****

I play with Coat Checker Otter at his station.  It’s busy enough he can’t get away.

I feed more piss.  I watch the Ginger fuck someone else in my sling. 

I try for more piss down my throat with a regular, but he is dry.

As the evening nears the end, I find the Ginger.  “Would you like another load?

“Fuck yeah.  There’s a fresh one up there for you.”

He hops back into the sling.  I kneel and try for a taste.  He pushes and a large dollop of the mixed loads lands on my tongue.  I think about snowballing, but I’m suddenly greedy.  I swallow it.  He pushes again.  Another pearl of cum lands on my tongue.  This time I stand and share it in a passionate kiss.  I want to piss, but I’m empty.  With our mouths still attached, my cock finds the wet entrance to his ass.  I push and I’m in.  I let him squeeze me as we continue to kiss.

Now I need to fuck.  I straighten up, grab the sling frame above me and rail into him. 

The Ginger locks eyes with me.  “Shoot it, man.  I want to feel you cum.”

I look down.  He’s totally hard and stroking.  And then he’s pissing himself.  I am fucking the piss out of him.

I explode.  Spurt after spurt fires into his Ginger haired hole…

AussieBum

My Playroom—May, 2014

He was a business visitor to my side of the state.  In his first message to me on BBRT, he made it clear he loved sex, that he was not a sub and that he wanted to indulge as a versatile for piss play.  When I told him that sounded great, he replied:  “I just think you’ll fuck me harder if I give you some piss to drink.”  Damn.  He knew me in less than three email exchanges.

Alec was about 6’ tall.  In his pictures, his chest was lightly haired.  His dark blond hair was cropped close.  It was a handsome enough face, but my eye was drawn to a picture of his ass:  full, pale and all but hairless.  I couldn’t wait to get him on the fuckbench.

I open the door, a bathrobe covering my jock.  He’s right on time.  Maybe even early.  His first words are:  “I have to piss right now.”  I point upstairs.  He bounds up them, unbuttoning his shirt as he goes.  His pants are open and he’s digging his cock out of his AussieBum jockstrap as I ditch the bathrobe and kneel in front of him on the padded floor.  Alec just manages to get it in my mouth before he is gushing a clear stream of piss down my throat.  I gurgle appreciatively and swallow as fast as I can.

When I have the last drop, he grins.  “Oh, and hello.”  He pulls me up and kisses me.  Deep and long.  It’s going to be a good night. Alec finishes getting out of his clothes and gets them into the chest of drawers.  He climbs up on the fuck bench, taking a hit of poppers.  I kneel and taste his hole.  He’s cleaned and showered at the hotel and I can taste the rather floral soap around his hole.  I stand up and give him some of his piss back, letting it sluice down his ass crack.  I kneel.  Much better.  Now it tastes like a man’s hole should.

“Damn, that felt good.  Hose me down whenever you want.”  Then he grunts as I poke as deeply into him as I can.  “Fuck, yes.  Fuck me with your tongue.”  I do.  I work his hole wider. 

“You want this raw cock up you?”

“That’s what I’ve thought about all day.  Give it to me.”

I stand up and push in. He’s tight, but open.  I don’t stop until my untrimmed pubes are brushing his ass cheeks.  I pause.  I listen to his breathing change.  And then I start working out.  Slowly.  So slowly.  When all I really want to do is pull it out and slam into him.  But I don’t.  I fuck slowly and steadily.  I wait for him to tell me to “Fuck me harder!”

And I do.

*

We move to the bed.  He rides me like a champ.  His cock is hard and poking out of his AussieBum jock.  I like watching it as he impales himself on my cock.

Repeatedly.

Working for a cum that is still hours away.

We move to the sling.  I take a few pics. 

With his face still covered, I work his nips with my fingers.  My fingernails.  With my tongue. I coat them with some piss and slurp it off noisily.  As always, the piss makes me rock hard.  I fuck him, making the sling stand shake.

When I feel I might be close, I pull out.  “I want to taste your hole again.  But over there.”  I point to the rimseat.  I help Alec get out and over.  I get under the seat and take a hit of Jungle Juice Platinum.  Alec straddles the seat.  All I can see is this gorgeous ass slowly lowering towards me.  It blocks out the light as my tongue connects with his hole.

“Ohhh…”  Alec squirms in delight.  “That is so good.  So deep…”

I can’t talk.  My mouth is full of freshly fucked ass.  I lick and swallow his slick ass lube.

I work his hole for a long time.  Then I get to that moment of almost claustrophobic panic.  I need to get up.  I tap his under thighs.

“It’s no fair,” he says as he rises.  “You’re doing all the ass eating.  I want yours.”

“Where?”

“Start with the sling.  We’ll work up to the seat.”

I get in the sling.  It has been awhile since anyone has eaten my hole.  I look up.  It’s my playroom, but I always forget there is a mirror above the sling.  I watch Alec kneel, take a hit of his poppers and dive into my hairy ass crack. 

And, Jesus, he’s good.  I take a hit, too.  Having my ass eaten while on poppers always makes me talk dirty.  I blather on as he tongue fucks me, only stopping when he stops licking to take another hit of poppers.  My cock is raging and dripping precum.  I swab some off  with my fingers and smear it on my hole.  Alec likes this.  He dives back in, grunting his appreciation.

Alec finally stops and stands up.  “You’re cock is huge.  You need to fuck me right now.”

I swing out.  He swings in.  I’m up him in a heartbeat.   I fuck him to the point I’m sure I’m going to blow. 

Alec senses it.  “Wait.  I want you on the rimseat first.”  I slow down and pull out. 

When he gets positioned, I sit ever so slowly.  “Give me that hairy ass, man.  You taste so…” And my ass silences him.  He goes deep on the first lick.  His cock swells—and pokes out of his jock again.  He reaches down and jerks himself as he eats me out as hungrily and as I ate him.  

I try to shoot some piss across his torso—but my cock is in over drive.  It wants to dump a load.  As good as the ass eat is, I want to blow my load in his ass, not across his chest.

I stand up.  “On the bench.”  I open the rimseat and step aside.  He senses my urgency.  He’s up and in place.  I slide into his wet hole.  I pump a few times…

“Pull it out and cover me,” he pants.  It’s all I can do to not blow inside him, but I pull out.  Just.  I erupt all over his crack.  And those gorgeous globes of ass flesh.  Alec shakes.  I’m pretty sure his hard cock is spewing on the mat under the bench.

It’s only after he’s rinsed off and gone back to his hotel that I find his AussieBum jockstrap hanging on the shower rod.  I take it upstairs and use it to mop up his cum from under the bench.

Destruction of a Jock

My Playroom—March, 2013

 I can deal with my next hook up in just a few sentences.  He was handsome enough, I guess.   I was not happy that he did not want to check his clean out after his long trip to my playroom.  We fucked for a while and all seemed fine.  Then I got him in the sling.  I fucked hard and deep.  I pulled out and it happened.

He was not just dirty. 

He was spectacularly dirty. 

The suction of my withdrawal from his ass, caused a veritable explosion all over me and the jock I was wearing.  (Sorry—if you were just having your morning toast as you read this…)

Needless to say, play was over.  And while I’m sure he was mortified, he didn’t really know what he’d just done.  He’d destroyed 6 weeks of work.

Let me explain.

I was wearing a jock sent to me by a reader of this blog.  He wanted me to wear it while I had sex for a couple of months and then send it to him.  I had worn it fresh to the awful sex party in Detroit.  Here’s a quick photo of it clean before I left that night. 

 

I had worn it for all my play in St. Louis.  I had worn it to a piss party.  I had worn from the first of February for all the sex I’d had up to this point.  And it was destroyed.  I had to wash it.

 So I got out the Tide and started over.  The newly white jock started fresh the next night.  It’s gone through another piss party and all the CLAW Warehouse parties. 

 

I am guessing it’s been ground into 40 to 50 asses.  It’s been pissed on.  It’s cradled my cock directly from a hot, cummy hole.  It’s collected my cock drool as sex begins.  And the spit of the pervy boys who want to gnaw on it.  I figure it will go to IML and then be shipped to him.

 

 

And here it is after these next six weeks. 

 

 I will snap a few more before it wings it's way to Toronto.

 

Scent pigs--do you need to email me?

It's in the column to the right.

IML--"Does Daddy Like My Ass?"

Chicago--May, 2012

I went to my first IML this year.  It's crazy, that's it's the closest of the Leather conventions to my home, but I've never been.  In many ways I still feel like I have not done IML--I have only done IML Lite.  I stayed with f-buds, not at the hotel.  It radically changed how the weekend happened.  I still had fun--it was just very different than if I'd stayed in the vortex of the seething cesspool of hotel sex...

My first night there, I did not hook up at the host hotel.  My f-bud Steve, who'd just been to my playroom two weeks before, took me to visit one of his favorite bottoms in Chicago.  I'm glad he did.

Gabe lets us in, greeting us at the door in nothing but a towel.  He lives in a high priced condo fairly close to where I'm staying.  There are "good" pieces everywhere in his living room.  The bedroom not so much.  Except for him.  He's good, all right.  Excellent, actually.  Just less than 6 feet and gym built.  Big thighs and a well sculpted chest.  And an ass of granite.  I strip while he excuses himself for a last check in the bathroom.  I am out of my clothes, folding my leather into a neat pile.   (We'd just been to the hotel to see our f-bud Warren who is working backstage at IML.)  Steve tosses his shirt and jeans in a corner.  Gabe is back.  He's added a dark blue jock.  It accentuates his muscle butt superbly.

He wastes no time.  He's on all fours, looking over his shoulder at me.  "Do you like my ass, Daddy?"  He reaches his left arm back and pulls the firm cheek to one side.  "You like my hole?"

I don't answer.  I just kneel on the floor and start licking his pucker.

"Oh, fuck, Daddy.  Eat me.  Eat me out.  Steve said you eat your cum out, too?"

I grunt.

"I want you to."  Gabe is silenced by Steve's long, thin cock going into his mouth.  Gabe seems to have no gag reflex.  Steve is fucking his mouth--making him take him to the root with each thrust.  I am pre-cumming like crazy.  I haven't had sex in five days.  I need this hole.  Bad.  I stand up.  My cock is lined up perfectly.  I pull open his butt cheeks and slowly insert the head of my cock.

There is squeal from around Steve's dick.  He actually pulls off it for a moment.  "Give me that big fucker." 

I do.  I inch it in until I'm half way home.  When he starts to talk again, I slam it to the root.  Steve has pulled out of Gabe's mouth and crawled under him to watch me fuck him.  And I fuck him I do.  Hard.  He is moaning and writhing.  Continually telling this Daddy how good it feels.  Eventually I slow. Steve comes up for air.  I pull out.  Gabe whirls around and cleans my cock.  I realize he hadn't tasted it before.  I move up to the bed, lean back into the pile of pillows and let him service me orally.  And watch Steve kneel behind him and slip in.

I can feel when Steve hits bottom.   Gabe grunts around my cock.  Gabe is talented at both ends.  He loves to take the full length, and just as I am tiring of that, he knows to switch up and concentrate on the head.  Eventually, I tell him to get his tongue into my secret spot--to try to get his tongue between my metal cock ring and my balls.  He goes crazy with my direction.  He is snuffling around.  Noisy and hot.  Steve pulls out.  Gabe is busy with my sweet spot, so I clean Steve's cock off.  I pull Gabe's head off my dick and spit some of it into his mouth.

"Fuck you are hot," Gabe groans.

"Sit on my cock."    I lie back. 

He rides me expertly.  He's facing me. "Does Daddy like my ass?"   He keeps up a running string of commentary as he impales himself on my cock.  It feels great, so wet and hot.  And I like giving up control for a bit.  Steve lies back and watches.  Eventually we try to DP, but it's not in the cards.  Gabe is too damn tight.

It's Steve's turn.  He gets Gabe on his back, legs on his shoulders, as he stands on the floor.  You can see that they fuck a lot--they move in unison with ease--knowing right where to grab the ankle and how high to lift it.  I watch awhile from the bed, then slip down to the floor and watch the big cock piston into his hole from down there.  I can't resist.  I squirm under Steve's legs.  My tongue snakes out and I lick the underside of Steve's cock on the backstroke.  He grunts.  It sets Gabe off with more verbiage about my piggishness.  When my neck tires, I swing around and rim Steve as he fucks.

A mistake.  The extra stimulation makes Steve blow.  He grunts and falls forward onto Gabe.  I'm right there as his cock slips out.  I clean it until there is not a drop of cum left on it.  He moves off Gabe.

"Eat his load.  Eat his load out, Daddy."

I do.  It's sweet and copious.  When I run out of cum, I clamber up on the bed, lie down and make Gabe sit on my face.  He settles in place as soon as I've huffed some poppers.  I lick and poke with my tongue.  I am rewarded with an avalanche of cum.  It flows out of his ass where my tongue swirls it away.

 It makes me want to add some more.  Gabe gets off me and kneels at the edge of the bed. 

I stand.

Insert.

And fuck.

My cock is traveling over the dregs of the load.  It's slick and perfect.

I shoot in no time.

"Fill me up, Daddy.  Fill this boy's ass!"

I do. 

A meal--not dessert.

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.