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.

Checking In

This may be the longest I’ve gone without posting.  I did not have a reliable internet connection for my last days in New York.  Then there was a two day drive home.  When I walked into my house, I had no internet either.  It seems my splitter is bad.  I am huddled in my work place now, posting this so you know I have not been taken to the big bathhouse in the sky…

An Avalanche of Piss

My Playroom—December, 2012

My next encounter was a piss newbie, too.  He lives fairly close.  By the end of the session, I was hoping he would become a regular.  He is as tall and lanky as I am.  I would guess that Leo is about 5 years younger than I.  He has closely cropped, sandy colored hair, a trimmed goatee, an engaging smile…and a relatively new interest in piss.  I think he told me he’d fed it to one guy before.  He wasn’t sure that he wanted to be fed himself, but really wanted to be covered with it.  He pulled up in front of my house a little early, but I was ready for him—lots of water was in the playroom and fresh towels out…

 “Hi, I’m Leo,” he greets me at the door.  “I really have to piss.”

“Upstairs.  Now.”  I point the way.  He bounds up the stairs.  “Last door.”

“Oh, wow.”  He’s looking at the set-up:  bed, sling, rimseat, the restraints hanging from the sling chains, the gas mask on the corner of the mirror frame.

“Clothes off.  Put them in a bureau drawer so they won’t get wet.”

I strip as well until I’m down to my jock.  I kneel to lace my boots back up.

“You want this?”  Leo is waving his rather shrunken looking cock, but I know he means his piss.

I nod.  He comes over to me.  I get it into my mouth just in time.  He instantly starts spurting a long stream of hot liquid.  It’s sweet and clear.  He’s listened to my advice about what to drink.  His stream is endless.  He must have been hydrating like crazy on his trip here.  My cock, semi hard before, is now like a rock.  He doesn’t try to stop and start for me to catch up on my swallowing. I work over time to not spill any of it.  And I don’t. 

I stand up.  He’s eager to kiss me—to taste his piss on my tongue.  He makes a small sound in the back of his throat as I push my tongue in deeply.  He sucks it hard.  I push his shoulders down, gently, to get him to kneel.  He takes my cock easily.  Well, the first half.  Then he has to work harder.  He gags.  But he seems to really like that.  He retreats a little up my thick shaft, than slides home. He holds—then in one swift move he pulls off me.  Strings of that thick, back-of-the-throat-saliva (mixed with my precum) hang suspended between my dick head and his mouth.  I kneel and we kiss again, savoring the strands.

“Get in the sling.”

He does.

I start working his ass with my tongue.  I lick.  Spit.  Push it in deep.   Work it out and back into my mouth.  Rise and spit it into Leo’s open mouth.  He swallows greedily. 

I need to piss.  I beat my hard cock on his balls.  I let myself erupt all over his nut sack, then down the valley created by his ass cheeks.  Leo is moaning, beating his cock.  I go back to licking his ass.  I hope he wants a taste of his pissed crack.  I stand up and lean across him.  He opens his mouth like a hungry baby bird.  I let the mix of ass lube, piss and my saliva dribble into his mouth.  For one second, I think he’s going to shoot.

I go back to licking.

Then fucking.  It’s a tight hole.  He doesn’t take cock often.

He likes my cock in his ass.  But it’s about the juices today.  He wants more.

I move around to his side.  “Grab the chains above your head.”  He does.  His right pit is exposed.  I’ve made him sweat.  My cock head scrubs it for him.  And then pokes into his mouth.  He’s groaning.  I do his pit again.  And again.  Then I piss, coating his underarm and his right nipple.  My mouth cleans up the mess, spending extra time wringing out the wet hair with my tongue.  I work his nipple until it stands up.  Then my mouth finds his.  He eagerly sucks my tongue into him.  He loves the slightly acrid, slightly sweet taste of my piss. 

“Damn, that’s hot.”

I go around and work his left pit and nipple with more piss and spit.  This time, Leo turns his head, mouth wide open as I’m pissing his pit.  I deliberately splash some into his mouth.  He swallows, all smiles.

When I’m done, I slip up his ass again.  I fuck.  He grimaces slightly.  I pull out and send a geyser of piss across his chest.  He gasps.  I make sure I splash some into his mouth this time, too.  He swallows.  I plunge back into his hole.  His tightness feels great on my cock.

Eventually, to give myself a break, I grab the egg-headed dildo I use to double fuck.  I don’t think I will get both up his tight hole, but I want to stretch him out slightly.  I kneel, coat the toy with lube and slowly twist it into place.  Leo grunts loudly as he tries to accommodate the big head, then exhales deeply as it pops into place.  I move slowly, twisting it forward.  His ass takes every inch.  I hunker down so I’m eye level with the base of the dildo.  I work my right index finger alongside the slimmer shaft.  He grunts and takes poppers.  I add a second finger. 

He grunts “Fuck.” 

I remove the fingers and pull the dildo out slightly, pressing it down.  I lean forward and work my tongue between the toy and the top of  his hole.

“Oh, fuck.”  He is watching me in the mirror.  “I…” 

He suddenly lets go with another huge piss load.  It splashes on his stomach, before he turns it down on me.  My tongue is coated--my entire face awash.  I try to work some of it up his ass with my tongue, but it’s too much.  I’m choking and coughing from his avalanche of piss.  As it slows, he starts jerking.  In no time at all he shoots a load all over his piss sloppy stomach. 

In moments, I stand up, my legs feeling like rubber, and do the same.

Passing the Pig Test

The Playroom—December, 2012

December was a mixed bag.  I had a few good scenes, but far more missed connections or plans that went wrong.  I had a couple of no shows, a gangbang set up by a reliable boy that had to be cancelled when his flight was grounded, a Christmas group session where the host totally miss-timed his drive in from Chicago, and on and on.

But I did have two brand new men (not only new to me, but new to piss sex), an old reliable fuck bud and the New Year’s Eve orgy.  So I can’t complain.

The first up was one of the new ones, a divorced dad coming to my area to visit his daughter.  “I have always wondered about piss play or any real pig play,” he wrote on one of the hook up sites.  “Will you help a newbie?”  He assured me he was an experienced bottom, so we set a date that would send him to his daughter’s with an ass full of cum.

He is kneeling in front of my hardening cock.  He’s a big guy.  The ex-footballer type.  He’s my age, with a generous covering of fur over his thick frame.  He’s good looking now.  He must have been stunning in his gridiron days.  And he now has my cock lodged in his throat.  Fuck, I love experienced men.  He is good.  So good I need to pull out.  I am super hard and it’s been a week of no play.

I ask him to stand.  He has a beer can dick—cut, hard and drooling.  I sink to my knees and slurp up the precum.  Pig play test one:  I rise to kiss him.  He eagerly opens his mouth and begins Hoovering my tongue.  Pass.

I get him on the bed.   “Get on all fours so I can eat that ass.”  He kneels near the edge.  I kneel.  I don’t dare touch myself.  His massive, hairy globes of flesh are right there before me.  I can feel the heat on my cheeks radiating from him.  I pull them apart.  My tongue hits home.  He jumps. 

“You are so deep.  So deep…” he murmurs.

I lick and suck and chew.  It’s a hairy hole.  I get one strand caught between my teeth.  I add a bit of lube to my cock.  I rise and enter him.  Just my cock head.  He grunts.  I get in easily, but instantly he begins milking my big helmet head.  After what seems like forever to both of us, I inch in.  At the halfway point I hold.  Then pull it out, move around to his mouth.  He eagerly licks me clean.  And eagerly kisses me after.  A pass on tests two and three.

“I want to fuck you in the sling.”

“I’ve never been in one.  How do I get in?”

I tell him to sit and lean.  He manages just fine.  I stand next to his ass, my cock ready for the assault.  He grins.  So do I, as I piss his ass crack.

“Jesus that’s hot.”

I don’t answer.  I fall to my knees and begin to lick him clean.

“Oh, my God.”  He loves test four.  “Eat my pissy ass.” 

I do.  I glance up.  His eyes are riveted to the mirror above him where he can see himself sprawled in the sling and me between his legs.  I go back to licking up my piss and working some of it up his hole.  Eventually, I rise and insert.  Slowly.  Letting him watch each inch disappear into him in the mirror.

“I have had only one guy as big as you—some Black guy at the bathhouse.  He….”

He leaves it unfinished as I begin fucking him.  Hard.  My lean hips are slapping against his beefy ass, making sexy slapping sounds that reverberate around the room.  His mouth goes slack.  His eyes roll into the back of his head.  I am grunting loudly myself.  I slow, again thinking I might shoot.  I pull out and bring it to his mouth.  There is barely a moment of pause before he cranes his head over and takes as much of my cock into his mouth as he can.  I get him up, when I’m good and clean.

“Rimseat.”

He looks at it.  “That’s new, too.”

“Lean into the sling for a second.”  He looks questioningly at me.  “Just do it.”  He does.  I unload another bladder full all over his ass crack. 

He is moaning “So hot, so hot” in a constant little litany.

Now I get under the seat.  He lowers his dripping ass to my face and open mouth.  The ass, freshly fucked and now pissed on is almost more than I can take.  This was supposed to slow me down, but again, I twist my balls to keep from shooting.  I concentrate on the flavor, the freshly fucked texture of his hole.  I eat him out forever as he plays with my nipples from above.

When I’ve had my fill, we take a mini break as I hydrate.  We look at the Dick Wadd video where Dean Cooper is being hosed down by every man in the film.  The only comment from my new pig is “Damn…”

He’s back in the sling.  I know we have to wrap it up so he can make dinner at his daughter’s.  I am fucking him hard.  His hole has flowered open.  I pull out.  I hold my cock right next to his hole.  I begin to piss.  It covers his ass crack.  Then I fuck in, still pissing.  He begins to be filled. I pull out. Then push in.  Pissing constantly.  A true piss fuck.  He is jerking himself like crazy.

“Jesus.  Fill me up.  Jizz in my hole.”

His request makes him shoot.  His white cum looks great on his dark fur.  I bury my piss spurting cock deep in him.  I scoop up his load and feed it to him.  He sucks my fingers.  With my left hand still in his mouth, I begin to spasm in his guts.  I’m shooting a weeks worth of cum into his hole.  I collapse on top of him.

We both shower. 

We’re at the door.  “So did you like it as much as you thought you would?”

He just looks at me for the longest time.  “Why did I wait so long?  It was the most freeing sex I’ve ever had.” 

Test passed, no, aced.

He goes off to his daughter’s with my piss and cum deep in his guts.

Black Friday

Near Home—November, 2012

I stopped in Louisville on the way home from Nashville.  The bookstore was fun, but there was absolutely nothing distinctive about the play there.  It was all mutual head this time—I got no ass at all. 

I arrived home from my stay in the South in time to do family things for Thanksgiving.  Some of my cousins were asking at the dinner table if I had made plans to shop the next day.  I said no.  I hate shopping.  I hate malls.  I am not a big fan of big box stores.  I had decided to spend Black Friday in the theatre of the adult bookstore closest to me.  It would either be busy or a bust…

 

I walk in just after 1:00pm.  The parking lot is crowded.  Do guys really drop the wife or partner at the mall and then head to the bookstore to get off?   The door buzzes me into the theatre.  I can’t see much—but can count three guys sitting, staring at the large flat screen.  The aisle seat in the back row is filled.  It’s an older man I recognize from previous trips there.  He hates me.  If I am in an oral mood, he gets no cock at all.

I lean against the wall, kneading the bulge in my 501’s.  The guy in the cock sucker chair glares at me.  I look away and up at the screen.  It’s straight anal porn.  A guy in his late 30’s, sitting in the front row, looks hot.  He has a muscular frame under his flannel shirt.  His hand is obviously stroking his cock, though I can’t see it.  Another man sits plastered against the wall.  He’s stroking, too.   I can’t make out much more about him.

There is a movement behind me.  I turn.  An older guy is standing in the back the corner, behind the door.  He’s a regular—a widower who loves to feed me.  He’s hard and stroking, he smiles at me, hoping I will step back and drop to my knees.  His need is palpable.  I move back, kneel and am greeted with a sizable cock that explodes almost instantly in my mouth.  I look up.  He grins at me sheepishly.  “Been here awhile,” he whispers as I stand up.

The man in the cock sucking chair gets up and leaves noisily, giving me one more glare on his way out.  I take his chair. 

Almost instantly the man against the wall gets up.  He shows a nice cock.  Without putting it away, he gets out of his row and brings it to my mouth.  He’s been stroking too.  I can taste his precum instantly.  I work on his cock—lots of suction, even more tongue.  I’m aware that the hot man in the front row is looking at us—and then gets up and leaves.  Just as my man is about to shoot, the door buzzes open and two more men come in.  One is a middle aged Asian business type, the other is a Black man who looks like he just left his semi-truck out back.

The disturbance appears not to faze my guy. He cums a sizeable load.  I can barely swallow before the Black guy is unzipped and demanding.  He sticks a short, fat cock in my mouth, then holds the back on my head in place and fucks my face.  He takes no time to give me my third load.

Then a break.  The Asian leans against the back wall and strokes.  I watch the movie—taking a swig of water, to cleanse the palate.

The door buzzes.  Three guys come in.  A middle aged married man in a heavy jacket sits in the row in front of me, also on the aisle.  I can hear him unzip.  A handsome older man allows himself to be stroked by the Asian in the back corner.  The third man asks to get by me.  He sits, leaving a seat between us.  He’s maybe late 30’s early 40’s, and rather cubbish.  He wastes no time in unzipping and hauling out a nice uncut piece of meat.  I stroke, looking at the screen, then looking at the guy one seat away.  Almost immediately, his hand is on my cock.  I let him stroke me, making no move to touch him.  Soon he’s in the seat next to me.  He leans over and takes me to the root.  I wince at the angle.  He moves to the floor.  I make him suck my balls.  He goes crazy over this, masturbating like crazy as he licks them.  I can sense he’s about to cum.  He stands up.  “Take me,” he hisses.  I lean forward just in time to get most of his load.  Some coats my beard, I find out later.

The Asian and the older gentleman have moved down to watch us.  The older gentleman now wants more than the hand job he was getting.  The Asian points to me.  The older gentleman moves forward, starts to put his long thin cock in my mouth but stops.  He looks at me long and hard—then shoves his cock in my mouth.  He fucks my face, stopping only as the cub pushes his way around me to exit.  He blasts his load at the back of my throat, but I still get a taste of his bitter load.  He pulls out a linen handkerchief to mop up.

We sit.  The man in the heavy jacket in front of me has a phone call.  He answers it.  Oblivious to the woman’s loud vocals on the screen I hear him converse with his wife.  “Either one,” he tells her.  “Either the 42 inch or the 48 inch.”  He listens for a long, long time.  “He’s your son.  You decide.”  He snaps his phone shut.  He sighs.  It rings almost instantly again.  He glances at the number, then jabs at the button to send it to voice mail.  He gets up.  “Here,” he grunts—assuming I want his cock.  He presents the tiniest cock I have ever had in my mouth.  It’s all head---no shaft to speak of.  But it works.  He grunts and spews.  And thanks me.

A lull.  The Asian and I are alone in the theatre.  When I decline a hand job (Is there anything more boring?) he offers me his dick to suck.  I have load seven soon swimming in my gut.

Now I’m truly alone.   For a long time.  I know I should go.  My erection, having been hard and spewing juice, is now bored with just me and the movie.  I decide to button up.  Then the door buzzes.  I look.  It’s the hot man from the front row who left when I first arrived. He stands against the back wall.  He opens his jeans.  A hard, cock with a fiery red head is pulled out.  He strokes, ignoring my looking at him. 

He makes no move to me. 

I decide to move to him.

I get up, somehow getting my now freshly hard cock into my jeans.

I stand in front of him.

He just looks at me.

His hands swing up to my shoulders, pushing me to the floor.  He grabs my ears.  I can feel the hair on the backs of his fingers against my shaved head.  I open my mouth. He shoves in a good sized cock.  Veiny.  He decides he needs to fuck my face, too.  I hold still—there is not much else I can do with those massive hands along the sides of my head. 

It’s not instant---but it’s not long until he shoots.  My eyes have watered.  I look up at him.  His face is contorted in sheer pleasure.  He lets me nurse on it.  I swallow each drop as I squeeze and tongue his softening cock.  I clean him so well he has no need of the fast food napkin he holds ready.

Eight loads.  Under two hours. 

"Take It Out"

Nashville—November, 2012

“This furry cub needs to be bred.”  His picture showed a perfect bubble butt of fur.  His face pic was engaging.  He said 39.  I guessed mid-forties, but that was fine.  He was all the way across town and it was approaching rush hour.  “Right now?”  I typed.  Yeah, right now.  A no frills fuck.  No sling.  No piss.  No toys.  Just a good breeding.  I got in the car.  The 20 minute drive became 30.  Texts flooded my phone.  When traffic ground to a standstill, I texted back, saying I was a mile away---but not moving. Then the traffic began a crawl that got me to his exit, to his road and to his house. It was small and had an ancient car on blocks in the side yard.  He answered the door in just a pair of jeans.  I upped my guess of his age to 48 to 50.  The pics were 25 pounds ago, but he wore them well.  I stepped in.  Inside it was immaculate. I was led to his rather western themed bedroom---Navajo blankets, watercolor landscapes of the desert and Monument Valley and cowboy boots sticking out from under the bed.  We stripped…

 We kiss for a long time.  He’s good.  Hungry.  Receptive.  First standing, then we roll around on the bed.  It’s been a long time since I have had that big a man on top of me.  My hand touches his furry ass—and I become rock hard.  I work out from under him. 

“Get on your hands and knees.”  He does.  I stay on the bed and taste his furry crack.  Fuck, yes.  A recent shower, so just a trace of soap, but a good manly smell, too.  I pull the ample cheeks apart and my tongue hits his hole.  He groans, deep in his throat.  I spend a long time eating him out—enough time to make my neck ache from the twisted angle.  I slip to the floor, so I can kneel and eat him easily.  He loves this.  He is thrusting back against my skewering tongue.  He grunts and all but purrs.

Eventually I stand and brush my cock head against the hole.  He winces, though I don’t even try to enter.  I just milk my dick head to get some precum to mix with my spit.  I drop back down and eat.  He is in no hurry it seems.  And neither am I.  His full ass is hot and sweet and making my dick drip.

After who knows how long, I rise up and press my cock, dripping with lube, into his hole.  He winces and clenches. I have just the head in him.  I hold it.  I flex it slightly.  He groans.  Not in a good way.  “Take it out.”  I do.  I return to eating his hole and he sighs. 

But soon enough, I stand up again.  I get the head of my cock in and maybe an inch of shaft.  “You are huge.  I can’t….”

I just look at him. 

“Well, not in doggy.”  He rolls over.  I clamber up on the bed, fold my long legs under me and get his legs up on my shoulders.  I wish for my sling---but smile.  This is actually worse—I start entering him and he rolls away.  “I can’t take you.”

“Really?  You saw my pictures.”

I go into the bathroom and piss—now wishing I was pissing on that expensive blanket we’d been trying to fuck on.  I come back out when I’m done.  I stroke myself to full hardness.  He just looks at me from his fetal position on the bed.

“Please go home.”

I toss my lube into my gym bag and kick into my jeans.  It takes agonizingly uncomfortable minutes to lace up my boots.  He stands, in an ancient terry cloth robe, just looking at the bulge in my jeans.  I’m angry.  And silent.

He lets me out the door without a word.

At least the traffic has cleared…

 And that was my last Nashville encounter.  Not the way to go out.  I headed home to Michigan the next day.