Thursday, November 7, 2013

His Dirty Piss Daddy

Chicago—September, 2013

Once again I was lucky enough to attend the piss party in Chicago.  I was one of the first in the back bar.  I stripped down, added my yellow jock and put my second best boots back on.  I checked my bag, and I needed to piss—NOW!

 No one is quite ready to play.  There are no pigs on their knees in the dark corners by the video screen.  Everyone is still changing.  I fill my water bottle back up from the huge cooler on the bar.  Wait a minute.  There is a man in the inflatable pool.  He is wearing a white cloth jock and flip-flops.  He lies down, disappearing from view.  By the time I get to him, he has his cock out of his jock and is pissing a long stream straight up into his own mouth.  I watch, until his stream is no longer powerful enough to reach his lips.  I move around so I’m right behind his head.  I piss directly into his open mouth.  In a flash he is gulping and stroking his cock furiously.  I direct some of my piss stream down to his hardening dick.  His erection grows into a nice fistful.  I bring my stream down across his chest and concentrate the rest back into his mouth.  As I finish, he thanks me.  Two others have arrived to hose him down.  I take a slug of my water and go find a cocksucker.
I move around behind the partitions.  I sit on the ledge and watch the video, stroking my dick into hardness.  In no time I have a man pissing on my cock then sucking it off.  Then another man pisses on the sucker as he continues sucking my cock.  The sucker switches to the new pisser, getting the last few drops in his mouth.  I now have a new sucker taking me to the root.  He kneels in front of me...

*****
I am in the back corner.  I am on my knees.  A Cub is feeding me piss.  I am gurgling and swallowing happily.  When he finishes, I start sucking his cock in earnest.  A bear of a man is watching us.  He starts pissing on the Cub’s cock as I suck it.  I re-double my efforts.  When the Bear finishes pissing, I stand up.  I kiss the Cub, feeding him the remainder of the Bear’s piss which I’ve kept in my mouth.  We kiss, clinging to each other, damp and hot.  We pull the Bear into a three way kiss—tongues jousting for dominance.  The Bear sinks to the floor.  He takes both our dicks in his mouth.  We push our cock heads together.  I start to piss.  It shoots out over the Cub’s flared cock head and is swallowed by the Bear.  When I run out, it’s the Bear’s turn to stand and bring some of my piss up to our two mouths.  We kiss and suck.  Spit and swab.  Tongues switching mouths.  Kissing and swapping fluids.

*****
It’s the last hour of the party.  I fill my water bottle again.  I realize, that not only have I not fucked anyone, I have not seen anyone fuck during this entire party.  It’s odd.  But I don’t really care since I am having so much fun.

*****
I have found a young man in a rubber jock.  He is hot and new to this group.  He has never been anywhere where you can piss so openly.  We are swapping piss, allowing others to splash us as we play.  We suck each other’s cocks.  I turn him around.  He grabs the ledge.  My face is in his furry ass crack.  I lick the wet, matted hair, digging into his tight pucker.  He groans.  I pull his full cheeks apart.  I spit right on his hole.  I force my tongue into him.  He groans louder.  From somewhere to my right, a stream of piss is aimed right at the top of his ass crack.  I keep tonguing his hole, and swallowing most of the waterfall of piss.  Some I push up his ass.  He’s whimpering.  Calling me a “His dirty piss Daddy.”  Another stream of piss starts from the other side.  I can’t swallow fast enough.  I gag a little, but won’t back off.  The first stream plays out.  I spit a huge mouthful of piss over the boy’s back.  I can feel him spasm under me.  He’s gotten himself off.  I turn him around gently and clean his cock.  I stand.  We kiss.  My hard cock pokes into his six-pack.  I want him to get me off.  But he’s done.  I go off on the prowl.

*****
A trio of men are at the back corner.  One is showering the other two.  I join them.  I can piss once more.  The third guy kneels next to the others as soon as he realizes I’m about to piss.  I do.  I let it play from man to man—feeding each pig some of the pale stream.  When it stops, I fist my tired cock.  I jerk.  I have a tongue on my balls and another trying to lick my shaft. 

I shoot.  It’s like feeding baby birds.  I have three mouths wide open and grunting for cum.  I try to give a little to each of them.  My hand is pulled away from my dick.  Tongues are everywhere. They clean me up.  There is not a drop of cum anywhere when they are done.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

A Thermos of Piss

My Playroom---September, 2013

 Kurt had been after me to get back to the playroom.  The last time we’d met, I’d worked his big toys up his hole, and a good portion of my forearm.  Now that the house was my own again, we set a date.
I got a text the first thing in the morning, while I was still lying in bed, wondering if I really wanted to get up.  When I saw it was from Kurt, I was sure he was cancelling.  But no—it read:  “Save all your piss for me in a bottle.”  I smiled and went to find an old 1/3 gallon Thermos… 

 
Kurt is on his knees.  He is tall and hairy with a shaved head.  I am finishing up spraying a load of piss straight into his mouth.  He has swallowed it all.  All, but the quick spurt I shot on his hard cock.

“So this is it.”
I nod.  He is getting up on the new fuckbench.  He settles in on the padded leg rests.  His hairy ass is sticking up, waiting for me.  He expects me to rim him.  Instead, I simply stick my dripping cock into his ass. 

“Fuck!”  He huffs poppers as I ride his ass, letting my balls slap loudly on his butt.  I slow down when I feel like I can piss again.  I pull out, give one short burst of piss on his freshly fucked hole and plow right back in.  His hole is gaping.  I stop and reach for the egg-headed dildo I like to use to double fuck.  I grease it lightly, and work it up him.  Then, pressing the base down, I slide my cock right along the top side of the toy.  “Fucker!” he grunts out, his nose still in the bottle.  Now he’s back to the tightness I like.  We fuck like this for a long time.
“I want to eat your ass.”

It’s my turn on the fuckbench.  I love how it supports my chest.  Kurt kneels on the padded floor and sticks his tongue into me as deeply as he can.  He spits and dives in again.
Break time.

I find the can of Crisco in the refrigerator with his name on it.
He gets back on the bench.  I spend the next hour working his monster toys up his ass. The smallest is as big as my foot.  The largest is over 18 inches.  It takes both of my hands to get that one in place.

It’s time for my hands up his ass. 
I work them in.  Two fingers, three fingers.  Alternating hands.  Now four.  Slipping ever deeper into his Crisco-ed hole. 

I’m in.  My right hand has popped in to the wrist.  I begin the slow crawl up his ass.  I move slowly deeper and deeper.  Kurt huffs more poppers.  I look down.  I am almost there.  Another inch.  Another.  I check again.  I’m there.  My elbow is right at the lips of his ass.  I tell him. 
“Damn,” is all he says. 

I pull ever so slowly out of his ass.
I add the stainless ball bearings, pushing them in with my Crisco covered fingers.  I get three balls up him.  I add my dick.  I love the feel of the cold steel—with my cock sliding over them.  I try to piss while I’m in his hole—but I can’t quite get there.  I fuck again, listening to the “click” of the balls deep in his gut.

I pull out.  Kurt works to shoot the balls out of his ass.  He gets two of them out.  Then stands up and lets gravity help with the third.
Kurt has to clean up and go to work.  He asks if he can get off.

“Wait until you’re in the tub,” I tell him.
He begins jerking the moment he kneels in the shower.  I disappear to the kitchen, bringing back the large thermos of piss. 

“Here,” I tell him.  “I have pissed in this all morning.”
“Oh, yeah…” he moans.  Kurt’s hand is moving rapidly over his cock.

I have almost filled the 1/3 of gallon Thermos over the morning.
“Open your mouth.”

“Yes, Sir!”  He does.  I tilt the Thermos.  The tepid piss spills out onto his tongue.  He swallows some.  But a lot of it coats the hairy on his chest and the cock he is jerking.  I tilt it again.  More splashes over him.  He swallows and strokes.  Finally I turn the remainder of it over his head. 
Kurt gasps.  And shoots. 

I leave the bathroom and let him wallow in the piss and his cum…

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Behind the Pit Toilets

Near Home—September, 2013

In a comment to my last post, fellow blogger, Upton King of Wonderland Burlesque wrote:  “Wow…Epic night.  But then, where you’re concerned, they’re all epic, huh?”
Well…No. 

But his comment made me think a little about the sex I record here.  I have skipped over very little that has happened to me sexually since I started writing this blog.  I have covered the Good, the Bad, the Spectacular and the Dirty.  Some entries are a combination of several of those.  The few sexual things I skipped over in the last year were two different trips to a bookstore where nothing happened but me jerking off to porn. I don’t think my readers care about me wanking to an empty and/or non-interested room—and, gasp, one time it was to condomed porn, since that’s what is often shown there.
I do have a tendency to choose something to pursue that I will likely find exciting.  If I have an offer for a regular fuck and the offer of a small group, I’ll take the group.  If it’s two asses on offer, I know I’ll choose the kinkier guy.  If it’s a blow job or fucking, most of my readers know where I will be going. 

I also know I have a true talent for getting things started in a public place.  I have always enjoyed being the first one out of my clothes at a motel party, or the first cock out at a bookstore.  I don’t walk around a bathhouse with a towel so tightly wound around me you can’t see if I have a dick—no, I wear a jock that accentuates my meat and frames my flat ass for all to see—and the towel is tossed over my shoulder.
I also play with a lot of guys I know—so I know I will have a good time.  I like to think my regulars are guys who like to keep pushing limits, just as I often do.

But there are days—as there are for all of us—where nothing works.  The online sites are silent.  Or I’m too far away from anyone.  Such was the case in early September.  I was sitting in the tiny rest area on a state road here in West Michigan.  I arrived at noon, usually a good time to find guys on their lunch hour.

 
One car is in the lot.  An elderly couple is hobbling toward the pair of pit toilets.  I park at the far end of the lot.  I have a clear field of vision for the door of the men’s room.  The door’s hinges have pulled out of the frame.  You have to lift the knob to get it to close properly.  

I pull out my book and read.
The couple leaves.

Silence, but for the wind in the hickory trees.
I go back to my book.

A car at the far end.  A lone man.  I watch as he scrambles out of his compact car and all but runs for the men’s room.  But he takes the time to slam the door of the toilet.  You can hear the lock slide shut.  He’s gone in minutes.
A tractor starts up in the neighboring field.  The sound of his engine mixes with the Handel I have on the radio.

A truck arrives, taking up four parking spaces.  The driver gets out, stretches and walks slowly toward the toilets.  He looks right at me.  I return his gaze.  He’s nothing special, but in today’s wilderness, I know I’d play with him.  When he gets to the door, he bangs it shut twice before he can get it to latch.
The sky darkens.  I think we might get some rain.

Another car.  A family of four comes and goes.
Rain spatters on my windshield.  Just a few random drops, all big and fat.  Not a downpour—just enough to make me put up the window for a moment. 

Back to my book.
I eat the sandwich I had packed.

A car parks quite close to me.
A thirty–something blond man looks over at me.  He gets out.  He’s a cub, in cut-offs and a tee.  He looks once more at me and goes in to piss, leaving the door ajar.

I wait a moment.
I get out and start towards the toilet.  He is out before I’m halfway there.  He stops, looks at me, and goes behind the building.  I follow, my cock hardening. 

He’s there.  Standing on the edge of the cement foundation.  His cock is out.  What there is of it.
“Suck me off.”

I hesitate.  I so needed it to go the other way today.  I kneel.
I swirl my tongue around his tiny cockhead twice and he erupts in my mouth.  He grunts and bucks into my face and then whips it out of my mouth and shoves it back into his shorts.

All told, maybe a minute and a half.
No other men.  No other cars.

Epic? 
Not quite…

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Monday, October 28, 2013

Four in the Farm Boy

Kalamazoo—September, 2013

 
I was double booked.  I had accepted an invite to a sex party in the afternoon that I was sure would be cancelled.  For the evening, I had posted an ad on BBRT for others to come to the Lansing bookstore/sex club to help send off a fuckbud of mine who was moving out of state.  He wanted to leave with a full ass.  I wanted to be a good friend and help him with that.  Well, amazingly enough both were a go.  I took off for Kalamazoo first.

I found the house easily—a small bungalow likely built in the 1940’s.  I was the last to arrive. It was hosted by Willie, the man who had posed as my boy for the photo series I called “On the Tracks.” 
(You can find all those pictures by hitting the button labeled just that in the “labels” cloud over to the right.)  Willie let me in.  He was naked except for a cloth jock and athletic socks. Willie is in his mid-forties and hairy.  He loves to invite guys over to have bareback sex.  He’ll suck some cock, but usually does not get fucked or top.
On the couch were three guys.  The first was a chunky Black man I’d had in my playroom to seed other boys.  Like all the men but me, he’s in his mid-forties.  He has a terrific smile and a sizable cock.  Sitting next to him was an otter in a leather harness.  His cock was buried in the bottom’s mouth.  The third man was a guy I’d played with a couple of times, always as a bottom though I knew he was the top in his relationship.  He had a leather harness on, too.  His red jock was pulled to the side, and he was stroking his cock as he chewed on the Otter’s closest nipple.  The bottom of the day was on all fours on the ottoman in front of them.  He pulled off the Otter and started sucking Red Jock as I started shedding clothes in the corner.

“How do you like our bottom?” whispered Willie.  “He’s married, but takes loads.  He wants you all to fuck him.”
I looked at the lanky farm boy on the ottoman.  He was long, lean with a perky butt framed by a white jock.  From what I could tell, since his face was still buried in Red Jock’s crotch, he had craggy good looks and nicely ripped arms.  It would be a pleasure to fuck and seed him…

 
Once stripped to my jock and boots, I fall to my knees behind the bottom.  My tongue goes right up his hairy ass.  His mouth is back on the Black guy.  Red Jock is sucking the Otter while Willie has squirmed around on the floor and is eating Red Jock’s butt.  I sink my tongue as deep as I can into Farm Boy.  He moans around the Black dick in his mouth.  I lick and spit as much spittle as I can get in his ass.

I get up and slap my cock on his butt.  Farm boy reaches back to feel the size of my cock.
Willie is up and jacking now.  “He’s the big one I told you about.” 

The Otter struggles up to look at my dick.  “Damn,” he hisses.
It makes him turn Farm Boy around and enter his butt.  Otter’s average sized cock slides right in with the trail of spit I’ve left in Farm Boy’s ass.  Red Jock has me sit next to him.  He grovels on the floor between my legs and gags on my cock.  He loves to gag.  The sound only makes my cock get bigger.  I watch the fuck happening in front of me.  Farm Boy is in some other space as he huffs poppers and takes Otter’s cock.   Willie is sucking the Black cock.

Red Jock pulls off my cock and climbs up next to me.  I finger his hole.  “Later,” he whispers in my ear. “After I’ve fucked him.”  He gestures to the ottoman.  I simply slide down, pull Red Jock’s legs in the air and begin eating his ass.  I push my tongue into his butt in tempo with the fucking happening behind me.
“Next.”  Otter has pulled out.  I let down Red Jock’s legs.  He scrambles around and enters the fucked hole.  Otter moves around to suck the Black cock.  Willie gobbles down mine.  Which is great—I get to watch Red Jock fuck the Farm Boy.   He’s kept him on all fours.  He pummels his ass at several speeds, occasionally pulling out and spitting on his cock before he drives it back in.

I’m up next.  “Take it, boy,” I grunt.  “Take your third dick.”  This makes him moan into his poppers.  I fuck hard.  But I’m afraid I go too deep.  I’ sure I’m through his second ring.  I pull out.  The Black guy is up him before I can say anything about the shit on my cock.  I go to wash in the kitchen.
When I get back, the Black guy is just pulling out.  He freaks at the amount of shit on his cock.  Willie gets the Farm Boy up to the shower.  The Black guy washes, but is totally out of the moment now.  He dresses and leaves without getting off.

While the bathroom is occupied, Otter says he has to piss.  He asks Willie if there is another bathroom.  Willie points to me.  I hunker down and take the Otter’s piss down my throat.  He’s been drinking something incredibly sweet.  He simply opens the tap and gushes at full speed into my mouth.  “Fuck,” he chuckles, “this is so hot.  Drink my piss, man.”  I swallow.  And swallow faster and faster.  Willie is right there, jerking his cock.  I think he’d like some of it, but with his living room carpet at stake, I can’t pull off and offer him some. Finally the Otter runs dry.  I do a last swallow.  As I do, his semi-soft cock erects.  I suck him down.  “Fuck,” he says again.
We all exchange blow jobs as we wait for Farm Boy.  He comes back, claiming he should be fine now.  The Otter goes back up him once Farm boy is back on all fours on the ottoman.  He fucks hard and fast.  “I’m gonna shoot.”

“On my face,” pleads the Farm Boy.  Otter pulls out but shoots all over his back.  Red Jock mops it up, putting it on his cock and fucks it into Farm Boy.  I clean Otter’s cock.  Willie has moved around so he is in Farm Boy’s mouth.  Suddenly, he pulls out and shoots his load all over Farm Boy’s face.
“I’m shooting,” announces the Red Jock.  He makes no move to pull out.  He seeds the Farm Boy and pumps it deep.

I’m right there to lick him clean…but I can’t.  Farm Boy’s ass has gone bad again.  I can’t fuck a shitty hole, and Farm Boy seems done, perhaps that a load actually ended up in his ass. 
I’m just fine with saving the load for tonight.

 
Next time—the farewell party that night.

Friday, October 25, 2013

Before the Boyfriend Comes Home

My Playroom—September, 2013

I returned from Canada and slowly got back to a my regular fuck schedule.  I was online at the top of the week.  The hot guy I called the Mystery Man when I wrote up our meet in the late spring, contacted me.  He was about to change jobs. Once he began working there, it would be harder for him to give the boyfriend the slip and get in the sling.  We both agreed he should get out here ASAP.  We set a date.  He told me he would text me as he was about to hit the road from Detroit.
I have decent cell phone coverage considering that I believe I live in a rural section of my state.  I was due to get his text about 1:00pm on the day of the meet.  It didn’t come in.  I waited.  I waited for a little longer.  I got online.  He was there.  “Did you get my text?” he asked.  I typed “No.”  And then my phone chirruped at me.  There it was—only 53 minutes after he sent it.  We chatted.  Still time?  We agreed we would now be a little rushed, but we both wanted it.  He did a quick clean out and hit the road.

He looked every bit as good as he did in May.  I still couldn’t come up with his name, but finally asked as I came up from eating his ass.  He grinned and told me.  However, I will always call him the Mystery Man on here to keep it consistent…


I go back to licking his hairy hole.  It is spread wide on the fuckbench. 

“Eat me out, man.  Tongue fuck me.”

I do.  I am going deep and lubing his gorgeous ass with as much spit as possible.  I don’t spend as long as I want eating him out.  We are on a schedule:  to get him home before the BF finishes up with work.  I stand up and insert.

“Fuck, I forgot how big you are.”
“Take my dick.”

“Oh, yeah.  Fuck me deep.”  I am.  I am balls deep already.  “Fuck me raw.”  He clamps down on my raw cock.  “Seed me like my man won’t.” 

Now he’s getting to it.
“He won’t seed this hot ass of yours?” I grunt out.

“He won’t even fuck me bareback.”
I shake my head.  His ass is everything any man could want:  beautiful to look at, but more importantly, talented.

“I’ll seed you every chance we get.”  And I mean it.  Every word.  But not yet.
My balls slap against him.  He grips the supports on the fuck bench until his knuckles are white.  I pull out and slap my cock against his upturned ass.  I bend over and spit on his slick hole.

Mystery Man groans.  I push right back in with my cock.  I marvel that I am fucking such a hot man.  He groans under me.  He reaches under the top part of the bench to feel his hard cock.  I look down—it’s rock hard and pointing at the floor.  I slow my thrusts, pull out and slap his balls with my rock hard penis.  It hits his balls with a loud thwack.  He grunts—and takes his hands away from his dick.
I pull out.  “Let’s do the sling.”

Once he’s situated, I am right back up him.  “Oh, yeah.”  He looks up at the mirror above him.  He has a great view of my hard cock hammering into his ass.  “Fuck me!”  He starts stroking himself again.  He has a great dick himself.  I spit on it.  He grunts and uses it for lube.  “Fucking rape that hole.”  The Mystery Man loves that word.  “Rape my fucking mancunt with that big dick.  Give me your seed.”  He’s stroking harder.
Shit.  I think he’s going to get off.  We’ve barely been fucking for thirty minutes.

“Fuck me,” he moans.  “I want your seed up my ass for the ride home.”
“Say it again,” I tell him.  “Tell me how much you want my load in your mancunt.”

“Yes.  Wet and slimy.”  He strokes himself.  “Dripping.”
“Fuck,” I grunt.  “I am going to shoot a four day load up that ass.”

“YES!”  His cock explodes across his ripped chest.  I reach down and smear his load across his pecs.  I bring the dripping hand up to my mouth.  It’s just enough to get me to shoot.  I fill his hole as promised...
He will have been in the car for just over 4 hours by the time he gets home—for just over thirty-six minutes of sex.  But he got his hole seeded by a big dick.  I got to fuck a hot man.  And I will do it whenever he wants…

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

The Cellar

Toronto—August, 2013

My trip to Canada was almost over.
Each morning that I was in the Niagara area, I would finish breakfast and go to the public library to take advantage of their internet connection.  There was never anyone online in that area, but guys from Toronto would often chat with me.  There was one man who struck up a conversation with me each morning.  He was fascinated by my screen name and wanted to meet, so I could put both the felching and the pissing into action.  In his hole. 

We had talked enough that I broke down and said I would go home (out of my way) back through Toronto.  He didn’t want to piss at his apartment, so I suggested we meet at the Cellar, the sleaziest of the bathhouses.  He agreed.  I finished up in Niagara by late afternoon, and arrived in TO right on time at 8:00pm.

 
It’s dark in the corridors—so dark I can barely see.  I wind through the dingy halls, turn a corner and finally find my room.  It’s small with the regulation bed, locker and a shuttered gloryhole in the door.  The grilled window in the top of the door, reminding me of a 1920’s speakeasy, is open.  I leave it.  I know I’ll want to show off tonight.

I change into my harness and combat boots.  I’ve told him he’ll find me by the yellow jock.  I arrange my swelling, cock ringed dick into the distended pouch.  I add the leather wrist band to my left wrist.  I get out my travel lube and stick it in the waistband of my jock.  I leave the poppers on the shelf by the bed.  I lock the locker and head out to find the eager Hole.
He’s not there.  I check the time.  He’s 30 minutes late.  I sigh.  And turn my attentions to who has come out on a Thursday night.  Not very many, it turns out.  On a quick cruise through the halls I count about eight men. 

I go to the back hallway.  There is not a trace of light.   I feel my way along the back wall until I bump into someone.  A totally anonymous hand squeezes the bulge in my jock.  I reach out and find a nipple, then it slips away as the mystery man kneels.  He pulls my jock to one side and takes me to the root.  Christ, he’s good.  It’s perfect suction, the perfect amount of tongue.   I find his ears, hold him in place and fuck into his mouth.  He grunts his satisfaction.
Other men reach for me.   I have hands on my chest.  Another on my ass.  I bat away the finger that is trying to squirm up my ass.  A mouth is on my right nipple.  He kisses his way down to kneel beside the cocksucker.  I pull out of one mouth and plunge it into the other.  This new guy is not as good, but I spend quite some time pulling it out of one mouth and feeding it to the other.  The best moment is feeding it to the great cock sucker and letting the other man work on my balls.

When I don’t shoot, the guys eventually move on.  I make a circuit of the facility and end up back in the hallway.  It’s still deserted.  I see a flicker of light in front of me.  A man has opened a gloryhole from his room.  I move forward.  I shove my cock through it.  I am instantly swallowed.  Oh, yeah.  It’s the great cocksucker.  Of course he’d ask for the only room that has a gloryhole opening to the dark area.
We play off and on for most of the night.

There are new arrivals. 
I jerk in wide open video area.  I have several mouths taste my cock out in the open.

I work a public gloryhole sucking two different cocks.
Then the right man walks in.  I don’t see him until he emerges from his room.  His boots clomp toward the video area where I am sitting.  He is mid-30’s, with strong, sharp features and closely cropped dark hair.  He is dressed in chaps and harness.  His biceps are the size that makes me feel weak.  Our eyes lock.  I get up and go to my room.  He follows me. 

We kiss, leaving the door open.  He begins chewing my pits, made fragrant from all the play.  Then it’s back to kissing me with that acrid taste on his tongue. 
“Get on the bed,” I say hoarsely.

He does.  On all fours.  His full ass perfectly framed by the chaps.  I kneel behind him and sink my face into that ass. It’s totally hairless.  I dig into his pucker.  He groans.  I grab the poppers off the shelf and toss them to him.  I can hear him huff and I drill my tongue as deep as possible into him.
I stand up and slap his ass with my cock.  “Wait,” he grunts out.  I stop.  “I want to eat your hole first.”  I pull him up.  We kiss.  He loves the taste of his ass on my tongue.  He pushes me down on the bed, on my back.  My feet rest flat against the wall.  He kneels and spits on my asshole.  He scoops it up and swallows it down.  It’s my turn to huff the poppers.  His tongue drills me.  I go very verbal, calling him names and telling him to eat me.  Faces appear at the door to stroke and watch.

My partner stands up.  He has a raging hard-on.  For a moment I think he wants to fuck me.  But he pulls me up and kisses me.  Then he whispers in my ear, so the guys watching can’t hear.  “Fuck me raw—but cum on my face.”
I nod.  He gets back on all fours.  I rim briefly, but I want into his ass.  It doesn’t disappoint.  He’s hot and wet.  And tight.  He squeezes down.  I wonder if I’m going to be able to keep my promise to not shoot up his hole.  I press into him slowly.

“Fuck him,” says someone in the door.
I start my accelerated fuck.  He is groaning, hitting the poppers.  His hard cock is being worked by his hand. 

I fuck him hard.  The guys in the door egg us on.
It’s by chance that I notice that he’s shot all over the floor of my room and on the toe of my boot.    He wiggles out from under me and flips onto his back.  He spins around, so his head is under my cock.  I push my cock, which was moments ago in his ass, into his mouth.  His drooling dick, spits more cum into his pubes.  I pull out of his mouth and jerk.  The first splatter hits his chest, but the next one I can direct into his wide open mouth.  I cover his nose, chin, and tongue.

I lean against the wall, my lungs gasping for air.  My partner sits up, looks at me and brings his cummy mouth to mine.  We kiss.
I look over by the door.  No one is there now.   But there are two distinct pools of cum on the black linoleum.