Short, but Sweet--the NY pump and dump

Upstate New York—January, 2013

It was short and sweet.  And not how I usually play.  And it was probably the hottest sex I had in New York.

It was 10pm.  I had signed on to one of the more vanilla hook up sites, hoping there might actually be someone who could host.  I’d even told myself I’d break out the condoms, if that’s what it took to get some ass. The menu bar flashed.  It was a guy, claiming late 30’s, with no pictures at all.  Of course.  “Safe Sex ONLY” was his headline. He was in a motel in town for the night.  He was looking to get fucked.  Then, before I could answer, he sent another message, telling me it was really a pump and dump and he wanted to take loads.  I suddenly didn’t care what he looked like.  I even knew where his motel was located.  I was out the door and headed to room 336.

 He’s living the fantasy of so many bottoms.  The door is ajar.  I leave the stark light of the hallway into his dimly lit room. His full ass is in the air.  He’s not sure who is coming through the door.  His arm is thrown across his eyes. I can’t tell much about him, and I don’t care.  It’s been at least 10 days since I’ve fucked a hole.  All my sex since the dirty piss guy has been all oral in the bookstore and I need to breed.

He hears me undo my belt and pull down my pants.  I don’t even take off my boots.  I squirt some lube on my cock.  And kneel to taste his hole.

He gasps.  Not what he was expecting.  My tongue goes deep into his hole.    There is no evidence that anyone else has been here yet.  He flowers open with no work at all.  I spit deep into his ass.  His hole is hairy, which only gets me harder.  I jerk as I eat.  You can hear my fist on my cock in the stillness of the room.  I stand and insert. 

“Holy crap.”  He huffs poppers.  “Fuck me with that thing, stud.” 

I do.  I am pumping really fast and hard.  His ass feels great.  Incredibly silky.  Then I smell it.  Cum.  He’s been seeded.  The big flared head of my dick is pulling it out.  I pull out and taste his hole.  It’s right there now.  I swallow some of the load.

“You taste the fours loads I have up there?”

It’s my turn to groan.  I make his ass incredibly slick with the cum and my spit.  Then I am back up him.  My cock feels bigger and thicker than usual.

“Split me open, man.  Dump your seed in my hole.”

I am actually close.  “Do you want to taste some of their loads on my cock?”  I ask.

He grunts agreement.   

I pull out and bring it around to the side of the bed.  He uncovers.  He has a handsome face.  And a body he has stopped working on quite some time ago.  He grunts and eats the cum off my cock greedily. 

“Now fuck me.  Open me up for this Black guy who’s coming.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.  Claims to have 12 inches.”  This makes me fuck him harder.  I want to be there to see a true monster cock in this great ass.  But I can’t do it.  I can’t last.  Me.  The guy who fucks for hours…this hole has brought me off in ten minutes.  I shoot.  I shoot like I haven’t shot since I got to town two weeks ago.  It feels like I go on and on and on.  His ass is milking me and he is grunting obscenities as I spasm into his hole.  I collapse on his back.  I stay there for a long moment.  Then slide down, my cock pulling out of his hole, leaving a trail of now five mixed cum loads.  My tongue attacks his sloppy crack.

We both hit the poppers and I make a meal of his ass.  He calls me every name in the book.  “You are such a twisted fucker.”  I leave just enough cum to act as lube for the mega cock to come. 

But I am suddenly tired.  I might actually sleep tonight.  I pull up my pants and go home. 

Sated. 

Completely.

Bookstore Sub

Upstate New York—January, 2013

I walked into the closest bookstore to my temporary home and realized that I had no singles.  Nothing but fives in my wallet and there was no way I was going to use one of those in the arcade.  I walked to the other end of the store.  The incredibly hot (and incredibly straight) cashier was waiting on a customer.  He was ringing up condoms, lube, a gay movie rental and something I couldn’t see already in the plain bag—all for a good looking customer.  The customer was maybe eight inches shorter than me and a good eight years younger.  He had a shaved head and piercings in his ears.  His flannel shirt showed around the collar of his shiny blue winter coat.  He turned to me for a moment as I stepped up in line behind him. His smile was nice.  He glanced down for a second, scoping out my bulge.  I smiled.  Our eyes connected for a moment.  He paid for his purchases for what looked like date night with his boyfriend.  He headed to the back door as I got my change.

 I walk the circle of booths.  I push open a door.  Nothing.  Someone has gotten off with a lot of time left on his movie. I can see the puddle of semen on the floor.   I watch the screen for a moment as two leather guys are fucking.  Then I move down to the only other door which is ajar and showing an occupied light above the entrance.  It’s him.  The customer.  He didn’t go out the back door, but ducked in here.  To wait for me, it seems.  His pants are around his ankles.  His stubby, but thick, cock is in his fist.  He grins, nervously.  I smile.

“Lock the door,” he whispers.  “Show me that big bulge.”

I slide the lock shut and dump my coat on the floor.  I undo my belt and unzip. My cock is swelling at the thought of this man taking home my cum, either in his stomach or deep in his gut, to his boyfriend.  He kneels in front of me and takes it down his throat.  All the way.  No pause.  The perfect deepthroat.  The suction is perfect.  His throat muscles start to milk me.  And his hands go involuntarily behind his back, clasped in the position of submission.  It’s all the cue I need.

“Suck me, boy,” I whisper.  “Take it to the root again.”  I shove forward slightly.  His mouth ovals and he does as I ask.  He keeps it there for longer than I expect.  When he finally pulls back, long and glistening strips of spittle hang in an arc from my cockhead to his mouth.  I grab at them, and smear the slime on his face.  His breathing becomes rapid.  I think for a moment he might shoot.  I grab the base of my cock and slap his face with it.  His cheek.  The other.  His nose.  His open mouth as he sticks out his tongue.  He’s making noises in the back of his throat that only make me harder.

“Thank you, Sir.”

I push my cock back into his throat.  He ovals.  I grab his ears and begin a slow face fuck.  After a moment he signals a pause.  I do.  He grabs his bag of purchases and opens a new bottle of Rush.  Ah, the other purchase.  He huffs—and signals for me to really go at it.

I do.  And he’s great.  No teeth at all, even as I batter his mouth and throat.  Finally, I slow and pull out.  Another long string of throat snot connects us.  I gather it up.  He raises his face expectantly, but I reach down behind him.  I find his hole and insert the slippery mix up into his ass.

He’s whimpering.  For a moment I think he might cry.  “Sir, I want that.  Really.  But I can’t.”

I look into his eyes. 

A long moment.

I nod.

I bend low, right to his ear.  “But let me eat it.”

He scrambles around to lean against the bench.  His ass is furry.  The crack is a forest of wiry hair.  I pull his cheeks apart and begin exploring his pucker with my tongue.   He takes a hit of poppers and passes them back to me.  I huff some and then spend what seems like hours, chewing, spitting and tonguing his hole.  I only stop when my knees begin to hurt.

“I’d love your load, Sir.”  He swings around, crawling back on the floor in front of me.  I slowly jerk my cock.

“Lick my balls, boy.  Clean them with your tongue.” 

He does.  Slow and lovingly.  Working deep to include my perineum. 

Suddenly I’m there.  “Open,” I choke out.

I shoot a nice arc of cum.  It lands directly on his extended tongue.  The next shot hits his chin.  The next one is wasted on the floor.  He dives for my dick head so as not to miss another shot.  It’s all I can do to let him suckle the last few drops out of my overly sensitive cock.  But I do.  I can feel him swallowing every drop.

I pull out.  No need for the fast food napkin in my coat.  I’m not remotely sticky.  But he is.  I look down. 

The floor is covered with his cum. 

 ******************************************************************

There was talk about my sharing his hole with his Sir.  But nothing ever came of it….

 

 

Faking It

Just into Pennsylvania—January, 2013

He had a special request:  “Tie me down, stretch my asshole and fuck me as hard as you can.”  His pictures looked hot:  a good six feet tall with a broad chest and dark hair and those chiseled facial features of old Hollywood.  He works a small family farm.  He gave me no name, just an address.  I packed my wrist and ankle restraints with a couple of other toys and quickly crossed the state line into the hills of Pennsylvania. 

He is standing at the door waiting for me.  I walk up to the side entrance with my bag.  He is dressed in nothing but sweat pants.  He actually looks hotter than his pictures.  He holds the collar of a rather nasty looking Doberman who is growling at me through the storm door.  He pulls him back into his small kitchen and gestures me in.

“The bedroom is round the corner.  I’ll lock him in the den.”  I find the small, wood paneled bedroom.  The double bed takes up almost all the space.  I set my bag down on the low dresser.  He has tied rope to the four corners of the bed.  How thoughtful.  And nice to have a man who knows what he wants.  I am stripped to my jock, leather wristband and am putting my boots back on as he comes into the room.  I am sitting on the corner of the bed.  I spread my legs and point to the floor between my legs.  He kneels on the old shag carpet without a word.  He pulls back the pouch of my jock.  My cock springs out, hitting his chin.  “Shit.  You’re huge.”

“You saw my pics.” 

“I don’t know if I can take it.” 

“Shut up and suck it.”

He does.  But it’s not what he loves.  It’s all about his hole—I can tell from his half-hearted deepthroat technique.

I reach into my bag and pull out the wrist restraints.  I take his right hand off of my balls, and wrap the leather around his wrist.  The Velcro holds it in place as I tighten down the strap and buckle it shut.  His eyes shine as I reach for his left.   I repeat the process.

“Stand up.”  I slap the mattress next to me.  “Put your foot up here.” I add a restraint to each ankle.  “Now get your ass on the bed.”  He crawls up.  “Stay on all fours.”  He does and I kneel behind his full ass.  My tongue hits his hole.  He groans.  He tastes fresh from the shower.  I could eat his muscle butt all day. 

But he wants my cock.  “Just fuck me, Sir.” 

I stand.  My hard cock slaps his right butt cheek.  I push my drooling head down his entire ass crack, matting the hair there.  I bend over long enough to lick him clean and then begin working my head into his hole.

“Oh, fuck.”  He moans a continuous litany of profanity and pleadings to go slow.

I am in.  Far easier than his vocals suggest.  I hold my cock in place for a minute.  Then I pull it all the way out and fuck it all the way back in in one movement.  He grunts.  I continue to fuck, pulling my entire length out until just the head of my dick is left in him and then slam it home.  After a few minutes, he flattens out on the bed.  I pull out and yank his leg over to the rope.  I tie his left leg to the D ring on the restraint.  Then his right leg, then both his arms.  He’s is spread-eagled before me.  I fuck back into him.

“Fuck, you’re too big.”

“You wanted your hole stretched, right?”  No answer.  “Right??”

“Yes.”  I slam my cock into him.  “Yes, SIR.”

I continue grinding into him.  When I want to catch my breath, I pull out and reach into the bag.  I root around until I find the speculum.  The stainless steel is cold from the trip here.

“You want your hole stretched?”  I ask as I grease it up.  I let it rest for a moment on his butt cheek. 

“What is that?”  He can’t turn his head around enough to see it.

“You’ll be able to tell in a minute.”

I slip it into his fucked hole.  “Shit, that’s cold.”  I begin to slowly crank it open.  “That’s huge,” he groans.  A twist of the screw.  He moans again.  In a new way.  I think he really likes it.  Another slight twist to widen it another millimeter, and he is back to telling me it’s too big.  I don’t make it much wider; I run my finger over his exposed prostate.  He shudders.  “Please….”

I crank it shut slowly.  Remove it.  I lean over and spit into his stretched hole.  I get a knee on either side of his ass so I can fuck straight down into his hole.  I enter him.  And long dick him.

“Fuck, Sir.  I can’t take any more.”  It’s barely been 20 minutes. “Just cum and be done.”

No words turn me off faster.  Any steam I am building up evaporates.  He keeps up this new litany.  I make a quick decision. 

It’s my turn to grunt.  I thrust.  I groan.  I shudder.  I totally fake an orgasm.  I pull out. I am done with his attitude.  I hate playing with guys who tell me what they want, but when they get it, it’s all been in their head.   

I untie him. 

He sits on the bed as I dress.  “You’re the biggest cock I’ve ever taken.”

“Thanks,” I murmur and reach for my coat.  I get out the door while the Doberman howls in the next room. 

I head to the nearest bookstore.  I have a great orgasm down the throat of some man who I can’t picture now at all.

 

 

Pissing in the Cold

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Bookstores in New York

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Fucking In the New Year

Chicago, December/January, 2012/13

It started with a mistake and ended up being the perfect way to spend New Year’s Eve.  Last year I spent New Year’s Eve in Rod and Brice’s basement playroom.  Changes in house mates this year made using their space impossible.  I did not want this tradition to die, so I rented two motel rooms with an interconnecting door at a local northside Chicago motel.  They invitedthe best of last year’s guest list.  I invited guys from three distinct spheres of my sexual world.  I talked to Karl and Bob, the cute young couple I’d met at Cum-Union in Madison.  I asked Warren, the occasional porn actor, piss party-goer and a regular fuck bud to be there.  I sent an email to Brad who had been the “victim” of the pack attack in my playroom to go with me from Michigan.  (As soon as he knew Warren would be there---who’d fucked him so hard in my sling—he agreed.)  And I spoke with Carlos, the gorgeous, versatile Latin stud with the beautiful shoulder tattoo who has appeared in both the NYE and Cum-Union entries.  He’d made other plans—then at the last minute was able to come, warning me that he’d bulked up at the gym even more since I’d fucked him last.  All in all we had 15 guys show up.  Everyone who said they were coming, but two—and both of them declined correctly as their plans changed.

The mistake was apparent the moment I checked in.  They had given me a pair of adjoining rooms, not the inter-connected rooms I’d reserved on the phone.  That meant guys would have to step out on a frigid balcony to go from room to room.  Obviously impossible.  We decided to squeeze into one room.  I set up the sling and rimseat.  Brad and I prepped the bed.  It would be tight if all 15 showed, but we figured it was about guys being on top of each other anyway.

Rod and Brice arrived with bottled water 45 minutes before start time.  The four of us played idly on bed, licking and sucking and fucking hole.  Then there was a knock at the door.  The place filled fast.  No one cared that the other room wasn’t an option.  Before I knew it, I looked up and the room was crowded with naked, leathered, or jockstrapped men.  There was a moment of everyone sampling others orally…and suddenly Karl, the bottom from Wisconsin crawled on the bed, presenting his gorgeous ass to everyone in the room…

Every eye is on him.  I kneel by the bed and start rimming his hole.  Brad sticks his long dick into his mouth.  A series of men are right behind him:  Rod, Warren, a super thick Black man, then me.  I let others enter his ass first.  Everyone in the room (but the two dedicated bottoms) take a turn on him at some point.  Warren can’t stop eating and fucking his hole.  My eyes meet Warren’s.  He smirks and asks me why I haven’t gotten these guys to town before.  Karl’s partner, Bob, is busy fucking Carlos. 

Soon the bed is ringed with four bottoms:  Karl, Brad, Rod and Brice.  Ten of us take turns on their holes.  We fuck, eyeing the others, then shift around and sample the ass next to us.  No one is in a hurry.  We have all night to fuck. 

I see Warren get Brad into the sling.  They become lost in their own private fuck for a long time.  But then Rod’s at my shoulder.  “Get under the seat.”  A heavy set black man has deposited a load up him.  I lie down, Rod sits and slowly opens his hole to my probing tongue.  It’s a thick, creamy load.  Rod pushes slightly and I gasp as it drips into my mouth.  I swallow, sealing my lips around his hole.  More and more pours onto my tongue.  When he gets up, Carlos sits down.  It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him.  He has gotten bigger and more defined.  He tells me to eat out his well-fucked hole.  I need little encouragement to press the remains of the load on my tongue into Carlos’ tight butt.  My hand is removed from jerking my cock and someone sits on my hard dick.  He bounces on it, though I haven’t a clue who it is.  I can tell he’s leaning forward and licking Carlo’s big cock as I continue to eat Carlos’ spread hole.  When the guy on my cock tires, he gets up and lets someone else on.  I reach down and feel the cock ring—it’s Rod.  He rides me hard as I continue to eat Carlos out.

Hours pass. 

Carlos fuck Karl.  I slip up Carlos as he does so.  He loves having a dick up him as he fucks.  I hold still and let him pump forward into Karl and then back onto me.

I eat more hole.  With load and without.

I fuck at least 8 of the guys.

Suddenly Karl and I are alone on the bed.  We kiss.  And we can’t stop.  His leg’s go up and I slip into him.  We fuck like no one else is in the room—stopping only as his partner cums in someone I can’t see, bent over a chair by the front door.

“Yes!” crows Bob.

“How many loads is that?” Karl asks.

“Five.” pants Bob.  I stop fucking to eat this load out, like I have all his others.  There is as much cum up Brad’s ass as the first time Bob shot in it.

Warren has been keeping the sling busy, with a lot of guys.  I finally suggest he gets in it himself.  He agrees.  I work my cock into him.  “Fuck,” he grunts.  “Nothing like starting with the biggest.”  I ease into him, give him a second to adjust, then fuck him with a chain rattling intensity.  It seems to throw that switch in him that takes him from top to bottom.  Guys all want a piece of his ass. 

I pull out, taste his hole and let the thick Black top in him.  He drops a second load in Warren, the first having gone in Brice.  I felch a little, but let Carlos fuck in most of it.  I just wait—and suck Carlos’ cum covered cock when he pulls out of Warren’s hole.  Rod is up him next.  Then Brad. Then Bob.  He shoots again.

Guys are now shooting and taking off. 

I am back up Rod.  He is milking my cock, as we both watch Warren work his fist up Brice.

I am pretty sure this is going be the moment for me.  I pound his ass.  I shoot.  I hold on to him for a long time after that.  As I pull out, I sink down and taste my own leaking load.  Brice tells us it is midnight. 

We all kiss, with my cum now on everyone’s lips…

 PS:  There was one disagreement in the evening.  Karl thought his partner shot nine times.  Bob insisted it was ten.  We did a quick head count of the guys we knew he loaded….and Bob was right.

"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.