Canada--Saturday and his Boy Friend is Away

Toronto—September, 2012

I was back in Toronto for the evening.  Arturo and I had met two summers ago at a BBRT organized orgy in that city.  He may be diminutive in height, but he has an oversized sex drive.  He’s originally from somewhere in Iberia.  His darker skin always looks hot and sexy on the white sheets where we play.  Last year he organized a sex party for my visit. This year,his boyfriend is away, so we are meeting one on one—and inviting others over after we have a little alone time.

He lets me into his apartment.  He’s just home and cleaned up—wearing nothing but pajama bottoms.  His bare chest is the color of cinnamon.  We kiss.  It’s been a year…

We catch up.  I shower.  We talk a little more.  I love his sense of humor.  And how we recognize and celebrate each other’s sex drive.   We move to his bedroom.  I sprawl out—it feels so good to be on a real bed after a week of air mattress and sleeping bag.  He takes my semi-hard cock down his throat.  He swallows.  I grow thicker.  He does it again.  I grow longer.  I roll him over and fuck his throat.  I pull up long gobs of spit.  He’s panting.  And has a huge smile on his face.  I suck his long, thin cock—it looks huge on his petite body.  He is drooling pre-cum.  I bend him up so his ass in in my face and spit it all on his hole—and use a finger to work it into his ass.

“Your pre-cum needs to lube your hole.”

He shivers at the words.  I continue to lick his ass.

“Get on all fours.”

He does—right at the edge of the bed.  I kneel on the floor and really bury my face in him.  I can pull his cock back to keep swabbing it with tongue.  I spit again.  I eat and chew on his pucker.  Another swipe of his cock with my tongue.  I spit again.  I rise and slap my cock head against his hole.

“It’s been so long,” he grates out.

I mutter agreement, but I’m too busy working my cock head into him.  He’s loose now. And I sink all the way in.  And hold.

“Fuck, you feel good,” I murmur.

I’m fucking slowly.  Long strokes.  I all but pull out.  Then just lean into him and sink it slowly to the hilt.  And again.

I finally build to an athletic fuck. 

I pause, pull out and roll him onto his back.  He holds his legs up by the knees, as I sink down and taste what I’ve done to his ass.  The mix of his ass lube, his pre-cum and mine is heady stuff.

I rise and sink into him again.

I fuck.  Hard.

We pause, both feeling a little winded.

We break, to see if either of the two men he’s talked to are online again.  The top cancels—I’m too kinky for him—never mind none of that is coming out tonight.

“Wait until you see the ass I got for you,” Arturo tells me.  “I’ll rim it and you fuck it.”

There is a lengthy back and forth with the owner of this truly beautiful ass.  We give him the address—and he never shows.

We go back to the bed.  He gives me a terrific massage, loosening the shoulders that have got so tight from the nights in the tent. 

I relax.  He leaves me alone for a bit.

When he comes back, I get him back onto the bed.  I want to drill him.  Drill him and seed him.

“You want my cum?”  I ask as I enter him roughly.

“Yes.  Fill me up.  Fill me with your cum.”  He continues to ask for it as I fuck.

I pull out for a second and lick his wet hole.  I slip right back in.  I fuck.  I lick once more.  I enter him roughly—just in time—I shoot my two day load into his clasping butt.

“Fuck!”  He moans.  “Yes…”

And I get to sleep in a bed tonight.  With my arm wrapped around him.  Tight.

 

 

Canada--Friday at the Sauna

Fort Erie—August, 2012

The last time I was at this sauna, built in the 1930’s, it was rundown and showing its age.  It had little in common with any of the slick and gleaming spas of Toronto or Chicago.  It was a true steam bath.  The weathered wood seats in the steam room could give you splinters.  Windows in some of the rooms could not open or the glass was cracked.  But there were fun men who went there.  I gave it another try.

It has been purchased by a spa chain.  Everything is new, clean and best of all, there are more play areas.  There is now a gloryholed slurp ramp, a dark video room with two beds, a sun deck with places to fuck, and best of all, a sling.  I arrived when it opened that day, at 10:00am.  I wanted to catch the lunch crowd and I had a great 6 hours.  Here are a few highlights…

The handsome attendant lets me in.  He tells me my room is upstairs, gives my crotch a squeeze and says he hopes I’ll save some for him--as I had last year.  I nod…

I strip and go back down to the steam room.  I want some unwinding time in the hot, damp room.  An older gentleman is already there.  As the steam billows around us, we fondle each other.  When I can no longer breathe, we go to the upstairs video room.  There are two triangular padded platforms where you can relax and watch the video.  Or fuck.  And that’s what the older gentleman needs.  I eat his hole for a while—getting him wet and slick.  I stand up and beat my cock on his hole.  “Fuck me with your raw cock.”  Well, that answers that question.  I do.  I love fucking guys who know how to use their hole.  He milks and squeezes my cock with the best of them.  We only stop because we both want to see who else has arrived.

We go downstairs.  The second smaller, drier steam room is packed.  A furry otter of about my age is the ring leader.  His mouth is everywhere:  on a shaved headed ex-military man in the top corner; on me when I sit beside him; on another beefy top who stands in the corner; on the older gentleman who follows me in.  Soon Bill, the otter, is going back and forth between me and Mr. Ex-Military.  The top has slid up the ass of older gentleman, fucking him noisily.  Mr. Ex-Military can’t take all the attention.  I am pinching his nipples as Bill sucks his big cock.  He warns Bill he’s about to blow.  Bill doesn’t move away.  He takes the load, groaning loudly.  Then, for whatever reason, Bill leans over and snow balls the load into my mouth.  I can’t believe it.  We kiss hungrily.  It cements us as a team for the rest of the day.    

The heat becomes oppressive.  Bill and I go up to the video room beds, followed by the older gentleman and the top from the corner.  It’s now about ass eating.  I eat Bill’s.  His hole seems as hungry as the rest of him.  Before I can slide in, he begs to eat my ass.  I get on all fours and let his tongue enter me.  I can hear the sounds of fucking from the other bed from the other two.

When Bill tires, I flip over on my back and get my head right to the edge of the padded platform.  “Sit on my face,” I tell him.  He stands on the floor and lowers his hairy ass onto my tongue.  I go deeper than before.  He’s so wet now.  I slurp and swallow, lick and open him up.  Finally I get up, and tell him I want to fuck him.  He jumps up on the platform.  He gets on all fours.  I stand on the floor.  I get my head in…he asks me to stop.  “Later.  Let me get opened up.”  The other top hears this, pulls out of the older gentleman and slips his decidedly smaller dick into Bill.  He seems to be taking him just fine.

I get up on the platform and feed Bill my cock, liking how it is shoved down his throat by the thrust from the fucking. 

“Try him now.”  The other top, a hairy man with a broad chest, pulls out of Bill.  His cock is small, but he has lots of wrinkly foreskin covering it.  I start to enter Bill again.  He panics and clamps down.  I stop and we all take a break.

Up on the sun deck, I get some head from a new arrival--handsome and the youngest of us there.  Bill works on the older gentleman’s cock.  A greased up sun worshiper watches us.  He gets on all fours and calls the guy who’s giving me head by name, demanding to be fucked.  Sucking me has given this guy a raging hard on.  He’s up the sun worshipper in no time.  I go over and work his nipples as he fucks.  Then go around to the sun worshipper’s mouth.  He’s all teeth—so I go back to the nipples.  Almost instantly, the handsome man grunts and shoots a load deep into the sun worshipper’s guts.   I bend to felch.  And stand up.  He’s not anywhere near clean enough for that.  “Fuck his load into me,” pleads the sun worshipper.  “Nice and deep.”  I pause, then do just that.  Then take a very hot shower….

Later in the day, I get Bill in the sling room.  I want to trade more rimming time.  While my face is buried up his ass, the other top, the older gentleman and the Attendant find us.  Soon the Attendant has slipped up Bill’s ass, giving him a major fuck.  I eat the Attendant’s ass on the back stroke.  The other top sits and watches, stroking.  The older gentleman moves over and sits on his cock, fucking himself.  When he rises, I crawl over and clean the other top’s cock, leaving him super wet and shiny.  He rises and replaces the Attendant up Bill.  He fucks him until the chains rattle.  I try one more time, but the same thing happens—his hole shuts down with my girth.

It’s the Attendant’s turn in the sling.  I rim, deeper now.  He groans and tells me to plow him.  I enter easily and hold.  Then do a slow build until I’m slamming him.  He grunts.  I pull out and the other top takes a turn.  He fucks until he’s on the edge of cumming then pulls out.   I slip back in.  I have found the Attendant’s prostate.  He is dripping cum on every stroke.  He squirts a huge load—one shot hitting his chin.  He goes off to clean up.  Bill has ambled away mid fuck.   Only the other top and I are left.  “Come here,” he tells me.  He’s sitting on the chair.  He catches my wrist and pulls me down.  My face is just above his crotch as he shoots his load into my beard.  “There—I thought you’d like that.”  He goes off to shower, leaving me licking at my goatee in the dim light of the sling room.

Still later—It’s just the Attendant and I left.  We are back in the sling room.  I lick and chew at his freshly showered hole.  I pull back and look at his inviting pucker.  “Can I breed you?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Yeah,” I say, “Keep it in you the rest of the day.”

I open him.  I fuck.  I rim.  I fuck.  I swallow his copious ass juices.  I fuck harder.  I take a hit of poppers.  I am going to blow.

“Do it,” he tells me. “I’m gonna shoot too.” 

We shoot at the same moment.  A rarity.  His spasming hole on my cock feels incredible.  I collapse on his chest. 

It’s 4 o’clock on the dot.  My six hours are up.

 

Canada--Thursday at the Urinal

Near Lake Ontario—August, 2012

I didn’t actually have sex on Thursday. 

I know. 

I’m stunned, too. 

I did find two seniors sucking cock in the woods, but they seemed to want to show off and were not really looking for company.  I simply smiled at them, nodded at the top who was enjoying getting his larger than average penis sucked, and continued on my way.

Later in the day I was very aware of a young man’s eyes on my cock at the row of urinals.  There were about eight of us pissing before a performance. 

The man at the end of the set of the ten urinals was there first.  As the rest of us came in and unzipped, he pushed his hips farther and farther forward, making sure no one could see his cock.  He must have been all but humping the dripping back wall of porcelain by the time he was done. 

The ninth man came in and went in one of the booths to piss.  He couldn’t bring himself to shoulder his way in between us all.

Some were able to pull it out with barely unzipping.  Some unbuckled and opened their entire trouser front—though none, to my practiced eye, looked like that was necessary. 

The man next to me, the one doing the looking—and with the largest wedding band-- was discreetly holding his cock so his hand covered most of it.  He made no signs to flash it at me. 

We all stood staring straight ahead of course.  Except for the young man.  And me.

I, of course, was standing a good distance away from the urinal—showing it all off once again.

And I was the only one with a smile on my face…..

Canada--Wednesday In the Woods

Lake Ontario—August, 2012

I had time the next day to head back to the dog walk/conservation area.  Two cars were in the lot.  I read for a bit, then decided to walk around and see if there was any “trouble” to get into…

 I walk away from the lake, across the expanse of sun parched field and into the new growth of trees.  As I round the first corner, there they are:  two men and a Boston terrier.  Just talking.  I smile and nod and continue on down the trail.  The man doing all the talking I recognize from previous years here.  He is older than I, short and balding, with quite a few extra pounds.   He loves to talk and tell stories—stories that ramble until he has lost track of why he is telling that particular tale.  I love the look of the other guy:   he’s taller than me, thin, with a promising bulge in his track shorts.  He’s in great shape for being in his late 60’s.  He tosses a stick for his dog to chase as I amble on down the brambled path. 

I give them a little time—then make a U-turn and head back.  I duck under a low branch—and there they are.  The short guy is on his knees, sucking the very large cock of the tall, grey haired gentleman.  The dog is scampering around, licking at the big guy’s crotch, as Daddy gets head.  They wave me over to join them.  I unzip.  I pull out my growing cock.  The large guy goes from one to the other.  It feels good, but I’m not fully hard.  My mouth is on Daddy’s nipple.  My hand is on Daddy’s hairless, totally smooth ass.

I know what I want.  I kneel behind those long, long legs.  I pull apart his ass cheeks and begin licking.  He looks at me over his shoulder.  Then he bends over, surrendering to my invading tongue. His cock pulls out of the Talker’s mouth—Daddy doesn’t care—he just leans on his former cock sucker’s shoulders.  I feel a hot tongue on my balls.  There is no way the fat guy could bend that far over…

Nope, it’s the dog.

Damn, he’s good, too.

I shoo him away, but he’s back instantly.  I ignore him and spread his cheeks apart with my hands.  His hole tastes great, salty and moist. 

Then the cock sucker starts talking.  He goes on and on about another cruise place, and it deflates both our cocks.  The dog starts barking—warning us of approaching dog walkers.  We clothe ourselves in plenty of time.  The terrier scoots away to welcome a standard poodle.

We try to wait out the intruders, but they are playing catch right by the entrance to the path .  No more sex for now.

“I remember you,” says the talker.  “We had a long talk last year.”   And then he proceeds to resurrect the entire conversation.

I nod.  And nod.

“I remember your tongue,” says the tall man.  “You rimmed and fucked me at the bathhouse in Fort Erie.”

I smile and nod, not remembering him at all. 

But now I write a blog. 

And I think I will.

 

I promise that I’ve never had the dog before…

Canada--Tuesday in the Park

Lake Ontario—August, 2012

 

I have been coming to this sleepy town in Canada for many years.  It took me the first 10 years to track down the cruising area.  I’d found a park in the downtown instantly.  I had eyed guys going into the men’s room and been cruised while sitting on a park bench, but I swore my old Damron Guide Book was wrong—this couldn’t be the real cruising ground.  It was just a too crowded and too family oriented an area.  About seven years ago, on an impulse, I took a side road before I got downtown.  I don’t know why.  It led to a conservation area.  Dog walkers and fags.  Many times they were one and the same.  I was in a cocksucker’s paradise. 

I park.  I read.  I look at the view.  Lake Ontario is choppy today.  But the sky is very blue.  It’s so clear that I can see Toronto across the water—90 miles away.  It’s a quiet morning.  A straight couple is my only company as they walk their three dogs.  They soon get in their black Land Rover and leave. 

I walk to the cliff edge.  There is major erosion here.  One of the huge trees has toppled onto the beach below since I was here last year.  I hear a car on the gravel.  A lone man.  He parks next to my car and gets out.  He’s sixty-ish, in shorts and a rather loud shirt.  He sees me.  His hand brushes his crotch, quite by accident of course, as he tucks his shirt into shorts.  I stick my hands in the pockets of my pants and amble towards the woods.

He follows.  I stop and look at the view.  He stops to tie his shoe.  I move towards a hidden path to get us out of the main park.  He stops and checks the parking lot for other cars.  I step over the remains of the rusty fence.  He stops to admire the view.  And touches himself.  He notes where I am going.  I head down the path, high weeds surrounding me.  I make it to a huge old maple tree.  And wait. 

He takes his time.  But he’s ready.  When he rounds the bend, he is holding a very hard cock under his shorts.  I grasp mine through the fabric of my pants—outlining the length and girth of it.  He takes his out.  Uncut with a fiery red head.  He peels it back.  He looks at me.  Almost pleading.  I’ve made him be bold.  I walk down the slight slope towards him, crunching through the brittle leaves.

“You want that sucked?”

He nods.  I sink down on my haunches.  I take his cock out of his hand, letting the head retract under all that skin.  My tongue snakes out.  I touch the wrinkled end.  A single drop of precum.  I lick it away.   I suck him into my mouth.  My tongue works under the foreskin.  My hand goes up to help peel it all pack.  He sighs as it’s exposed in my mouth and my tongue laps gently at it.

I suck harder. 

He goes as far as to fuck my face a little.

The squirrels are making noise in the brush around us.  It makes him nervous.

“Show me yours.”

I get up and undo my belt and zipper.

He touches me tentatively. 

The contact makes his cock jump.

He strokes me, but makes no move to suck me.

I sink to my knees.  I want his cum. 

I suck some more.

“I can’t get off here.”  He pats my head.  “I’m too nervous.”  He gets his cock back in his pants.  “There’s a car.”  I hear it coming down the gravel.  I look in that direction—it’s impossible to see it from where we are hidden.

When I turn back to him, he’s gone.  I watch him step over the rusty fence.  I wait a bit, rearrange the package, and amble back to my book.

 

 

 

Canada--Monday at The Cellar

Toronto—August, 2012

I woke up at Steamworks at about 3:30am.  Horny.  Still.  I scouted the halls.  Nothing.  I was due to leave in an hour anyway and decided not to renew as I needed some better sleep.  I walked the streets of Toronto back to my car, curled up in the front seat of my Ford Focus, long legs up on the passenger side of the dashboard and slept until breakfast called…

Later, I saw a fuck-bud/friend (who I’ll be meeting for sex later on in the week) for a quick coffee.  I told him I was off to go pitch my tent at my final destination, but I lied to him.  Oh, I did have the tent up by 6:00pm….but I stopped in for the Nooner at The Cellar before I left town.  From noon to 1pm it is a cheap, cheap price to get guys in on their lunch hour.  I remember lines out the door as we all queued up to get in right at the top of the hour.  It was 12:45 now, so I was hoping the men were all in and ready…

My cock jumps as I hug my friend goodbye.  I’d do him right now if he had time.  He goes off to his bank.  I go half a block in the other direction and through the black door with no sign.  I am buzzed in.  I have a choice of gloryholed rooms to rent.  Not a good sign.  This bathhouse is truly a cellar, with rooms laid out in a sort of figure eight pattern.  I walk past a huge projection TV showing porn.  Most of the doors to the rooms now have a gloryhole (with a locked cover) in them I notice.  They are all shut.  I pass a partitioned area also with sizable holes.  But here, the main action seems to happen in the back hallway where it is always pitch black.   I find room “N” easily.  I shed my clothes quickly and walk back out in my jock and boots.  No one is in a room.  Well, except for the guy who is never touched the entire time I’m there.  Everyone is in the back hallway.  I move through the hall easily.  Not good.  Maybe six or eight guys.  A couple of years ago, it would have been so crowded I could not have gotten more than a few steps into the mass of fondling flesh.

I’m disappointed.  But it’s not about numbers.  It’s about finding the right guys. 

I want to suck some cock.  I hadn’t sucked any dick at Steamworks.  Yeah, I’d cleaned some off after they had been in someone’s hole—but it’s not the same.  I had been totally focused on ass.  Now I wanted that explosion of  cum going down my throat. 

A hand snakes out.  He grabs my dick.  He pulls it towards the back wall where he in kneeling, but I can’t see him.  He sucks.  It is ok, but not great head.  More hands appear out of the gloom and tweak my nips.  A tongue goes in my ear.  A hard cock is against my ass crack.  My sucker rises when he gets me hard.  He tugs me towards the entrance.  “Come fuck me.”

I shake my head and move away into the darkness. 

I find a broad furry chest.  With those huge, eraser sized nipples.  My mouth goes right to them.  Eventually I kneel and find a slightly curved cock.  He’s cut, with a very small head, but it keeps widening into a thick base.  I take it all down my throat.  Eventually he pulls out of my mouth and tells me just to use my hands on the head.  I do.  I work far too long.  He moves away. 

A pair of massive thighs replaces him.  I start to rise and he pushes me down.  This guy is hung.  With a dripping foreskin.  I suck.  And suck.  I work my tongue under his helmeted dick head.  I pull it back, swab it and pull the skin back over it.  I nibble it.  I suck him to the root.  Soon he is beating his cock off into my mouth, brushing the loose skin on my lips and beard.  I desperately want him to cum.  He works it.  And then beats it some more. 

He turns away to make room for a new comer.  This guy sticks his cock in my mouth and blows a thick load in two strokes.  I know nothing about what he looks like.  But he tasted great.

The beater is back.  In my mouth.  Rubbing the foreskin on my beard.  On my nose.  On my cheek.  Back to my mouth.  He’s now really dripping.  But he can’t, or won’t, shoot.

I finally have to get off my knees.  I sit on a bench and watch the porn.  I get some head from a decidedly older man.  At least I can see him.  He’s good.  But I need cock in my mouth.  I head back to the dark hallway.  No one.

I wander, pausing at the gloryhole partitions.  There he is.  The beater.  I step towards him—he can’t beat through a hole.  I suck him hard—and for quite a bit longer before he returns to the beating routine. 

But this time I have him.  He starts to shoot.  He tries to pull it from my mouth, but I wrest it from him.  His semen is bitter.  But it’s a huge load. 

I jerk frantically as he coats my throat.  Fuck, yes!  I shoot on his bare feet, webbing his toes…

 

Canada--Sunday Night at Steamworks

Toronto—August, 2012

I have finished the exhausting and time consuming summer job.   I took my Dad to several medical appointments we’d put off over the summer, then I escaped for my annual trip to Canada.  I visit a major arts festival for a good portion of the week each year, but I always leave time before or after I arrive for a trip to Toronto.  This year, it’s before.   I know I have a large portion of my summer to chronicle, (not that I had time to play that often), but I’ve decided to write up this trip within days or maybe moments after it’s happened.   And with the bathhouse action of Sunday night, getting it down right now is wise.

I checked into my favorite bathhouse in Toronto at 8:30pm.  I knew it was early, but it was Sunday.   I had a hunch guys would be leaving early for Monday morning work.  And I was right.

 I wind my way through the maze of rooms.  The numbering system seems to have little rhyme or reason.  I finally find my room.  I struggle into my cockring, my cock is already beginning to swell, just thinking of ass.  I change into a clean jock.  Add a wrist band to my left wrist.  Combat boots back on, and I’m ready.

I turn left.  The sling room is right there—through a curtained entrance.  How convenient.  It’s empty, but there seems to be a hot butt on the fuck bench.  I can see little about him—young, smooth body, his face is buried in his towel and he seems to need a good fucking.  I put my water bottle under the bench and lean in.  My tongue connects with his hot, moist hole.  He jumps—I haven’t touched him to let him know I’m there.  I reach up and spread his cheeks.  I eat ass as if I haven’t had any for months—not quite true, but for a couple of weeks for sure.  He’s breathing hard--and moaning loud enough to attract four or five guys to the open doorway.   I’ve lubed my cock as I lick and spit into him. I rise up and let it rest on his ass cheeks.  I give him a chance to tell me to rubber up, but instead he grunts out “Fuck me.”

I am in him.  He instantly rears up, all but pulling me out of him.  I roughly push him down again.  I pull all the way out.  He hits his poppers and I re-enter.  “Oh, fuck that’s good,” he groans.  I pound him.  I take out all my frustration with the traffic in the long drive there.  My balls noisily slap his ass.  He groans into his towel.

I slow, pull out, taste his hole again and then re-enter.  He arches up again and asks for a break.  I slip out and he thanks me.

One of the onlookers has gotten into the sling.  I go over.  He smiles up at me.  In the red light over the sling, he could be anywhere from 28 to 42.  He appears to be some sort of Hispanic mix—slight of body with a pronounced nose and a rampant dick with a generous foreskin.  His cock is drooling, and he is beating it furiously.

“You want this cock up you--straight from his ass?”  I ask him.

He nods.

I kneel and begin eating his hole out.  He squirms and slaps the top of my head with his cock.  I move up to his balls, then slide my tongue all the way back down to his pucker.  I do it again, but this time include a quick swirl of his cock head, collecting some of his precum. 

I rise.  A crowd is watching us.  A built Black man is now behind the sling, twisting the sling guy’s nipples.  To my left a young white boy is stroking a sizable cock.  To my right, a short Asian is on his knees servicing a large bear, who occasionally runs a hand over the belly of the man in the sling.  I enter.  I sink home.  No need of poppers to open his hole, his ass just swallows me up in one long glide.  I rest for a fraction of a second, then pull almost all the way out and slide in again.  I watch his face contort in pleasure.  I am soon fucking him hard and fast.  His eyes never leave my face.

When I need to pause, I pull out and taste his hole.  It’s wet with my copious precumming.  I rise and look at the young white guy beating his meat.  “You want to try his hole?”

He nods, and to my surprise, slips his cock right in, raw and drooling.  He is long, but not thick.  It’s a welcome break for the fuckee.  I kneel by the side of the sling, gnawing on his nipple.  His arm holds me in place, locked around my head in wrestler’s grip.  The boy batters his ass.  I think he may cum, but he pulls out without shooting.  I dive for his cock and clean it.  He looks at me in admiration and moves off.  Tasting the ass on his cock makes me super hard.  I rise and am fucking him again.  The bear has cum down the Asian’s throat.  A hot otter in his 30’s is there with a great looking cock.  He watches me fuck intently.  I grin at him and gesture to the ass I’m fucking—an open invite.

He nods and replaces me.  He slips in and really pounds the man.  Chains rattle.  I stand to the side and work both his nipples with my fingers.  The otter slows and pulls out.  He’s seen me with the other boy—he presents his cock for me to clean.  I get on my knees and lick, making sure I get between his head and his foreskin.

I rise and enter.  The man in the sling looks up at me with what?—Wonder?--He is in his own Treasure Island video.  He is beating like crazy.  I know it can’t last.  He shoots as I drive myself home.  His arc of semen hits just below his left nipple.  I mop it up with my fingers and feed it to him, as I slowly pull out.  He cleans my finger.  I help out of the sling.  We hug and he staggers away to the showers.

I wander.

I have some adequate head in a dark room.

 As I leave it, a hot 50-something runs his hand over my semi-hard cock which is sticking half out of my jock.  He’s gym built, but not recently.  Silver at the temples and a round, firm ass.

“Come back to my room.”  He tugs on my cock.  I follow.

 He has a double bed room. 

 “Do you rim?” 

I don’t answer, I just push him down on all fours and dive in.  He moans and reaches back with one hand to help me part his firm ass.  I rise and spit on his hole.  I smear it around with my cock head.  I enter him.  He takes a hit of poppers and passes them to me.  I take a hit.  They are strong.  I am fucking him as hard as I can. 

And without warning, I cum.  I can’t believe it.  I usually go hours before I drop a load.  He’s thrilled that I creamed his ass and tells me to find him again.

I go to my room and sleep.

It’s an hour later.  I have woken up.  Hard and eager for more.  I open the door.  A cute enough cub is right there.  He sets down his towel, laden with stuff.  He sucks me with no real enthusiasm, but more out of a sense of duty.  I stop him and lick his ass.  He hands me a rubber from his towel.  I give it back to him and pull out my own Magnum.  I over lube and try to enter.  Eventually I get in.  He is gasping and telling me how good it is.  After all the raw sex, I am feeling nothing.  Literally nothing.  I tell him I need to stop.  I peel the rubber off and toss it away as he gathers his 8 different brands of condoms (none of them large) and all the free lube he’s collected.

The sling is empty.  The boy is back on the fuck bench.  It’s a total repeat of our first encounter.

I make the rounds of rooms.  I have a huge selection of ass to choose from.  I finally pick a hole that looks shiny with lube or cum.  It’s gaping just slightly.  The man is slightly younger than me, dark hair, likely Hispanic.  I linger at the door.  My cock clearly visible in my jock, my towel slung over my shoulder.  I’m invited in.  I clamber up on the bed.  His ass is elevated by the pillow.  I lean forward and taste.  I am pretty sure it’s cum.  I lap and swallow.  I rear up and slip my cock in him. 

“Fuck yeah.  Churn the two loads I have up there.”

I do.  I pull out, bringing some of the cum with me.  I lap it up.  Guys crowd into the room.  He gestures for me to shut the door.  I get up and do.  “It’s good seeing you again.”  I look down as he’s turning 90 degrees on the bed, so I can kneel on the floor to eat him out.  I hadn’t seen all of his face before.  It’s the guy I christened Cowboy Boots at my first Cum-Union party and who I later played with again in Detroit.  We chat.

Then it’s back to some serious fucking.  And eating all the cum my cock pulls out of his remarkable ass. 

Finally, we agree to open the door to see if we can find another guy to seed him.  I do.  And slip back in.  A young guy comes in to jerk.

And I shoot again.  

 I sleep another hour.

I check back with Cowboy Boots.   “No more loads, but a couple of guys pushed yours up deep.”

I accept the challenge to try to get them out.  I fuck and slurp my remains.

 A handsome young Black man steps into the room.  “You eating out my load?”  he asks. 

I nod—telling him it’s been mixed with mine.  He cock swells and I let him into Cowboy Boots’ ass.  He fucks.  I clean his slippery cock and spit it back on the hole.  It’s my turn to fuck.  The Black man strokes, eyes intent on my disappearing cock.

“I have to cum!” 

 I step aside.  He just makes it into the hole before he unloads.  I clean up his fresh load off his cock.  I lovingly clean up the ass.  I fuck.

 It’s my turn to shoot.  I am in shock.  I shoot my third load of night in about 4 hours.

 Cowboy Boots hugs me and tells me I better tell all my readers about it.

I think I just have…