Centerpiece of the Orgy

Grand Rapids—April, 2017

A couple of weeks before I left for CLAW, the fourth orgy with the group of like minded barebackers was announced.  My friend the Professor had expressed interest in attending one of their gatherings after reading the write-ups of the first three.  The timing worked for both of us—and he drove up from his southern city to Michigan--three quarters of the way through the month.  We had dinner and caught up on each other’s sex lives over a scotch that night.

The next day I packed the sling and the rimseat before we drove north and got a motel near the airport.  The Professor wanted to be prepared to be versatile. I left him to it and went out for coffee.  Soon enough, we took off for the party—arriving so I could set the sling up in the bedroom before most of the other men arrived.  The sling fit perfectly in the space the host had cleared for me and I tucked the rimseat into a corner near the bed.

“We might have a bigger crowd,” the host told us when I rejoined and the Professor downstairs.

“How many do you think?” I asked as I unbuckled my belt.

“Forty responded, so maybe eighteen to twenty,” he said with a grin.  “This may be the last one until fall.”

Twice as many men, I thought—and my cock jumped slightly in my 501’s.  I also noticed that the host had set up the downstairs, too.  Now there were three play areas—upstairs there was the communal bed, the sling and now two covered couches set up where the dining room table usually stood.

The door kept opening and men arrived.  Many regulars I knew from the three previous parties—and men who were brand new to me.  I got out of my clothes in a hurry….

I am pissing in the bathroom.  I have left the door open—after all, the men here are aware of my screen name.    I feel the presence of a man behind me.  I turn.  His naked frame fills the door way.  This handsome stranger walks in, mid-piss.  He is my age, tall, muscled and has the kind of hairy chest that makes me think of Robert Mitchum. His cock is growing.  It brushes against my hairy thigh as my piss runs out.  It’s every bit as big as mine.  He takes my shoulders in his hands and whispers in my ear:  “I’ve read your profile.  I want to watch you fuck my boy.”

“Sure.”

He squeezes my shoulders again.  I really want to drink his piss as a way of sealing the deal, but he’s out the door and up the stairs to the bedroom.  I try to stuff my dick in my jock and follow.

The room is awash with naked men:  On their knees sucking cock, getting sucked, on the bed in a sixty nine, on all fours getting rimmed.   The bathroom intruder has his big cock in the mouth of a young man on all fours.  The top nods at me as a man in his early 40’s kneels and starts to suck my dick.  This must be his boy.  I let him get me to full hardness.  He pulls off my dick and sighs in satisfaction.

“I want your ass.”

We take over a corner of the bed—with him on all fours.  I kneel and tongue his hole.  He tastes of the perfect mix of sweat and soap.  And he’s hairy enough to get my cock drooling.  I stand up and enter him.  It’s a slow glide all the way in—he’s used to big cock—and loves it. I make eye contact with his partner, who nods approvingly. 

I look in the other direction and see The Professor getting some head from the host.  The unmistakable sound of someone shooting happens from across the bed.  The young man has milked out the first load of the evening in the first 30 minutes of play.  The big dicked top is quick to push into the spunked out hole.  He announces to the room how much he loves to fuck in fresh cum.  He doesn’t for long.  The young man milks a load out of him, too, in record time—making the top sound both surprised and pleased as he grunts out his orgasm.

I continue fucking his boy as I watch the Professor move behind the young man.  He guides his wet cock into the wetter hole of the young man.  For a moment, I watch the Professor fuck him.  Then I get busy tasting the ass I just fucked.  When I stand up, I let another man go into him.  I move around the bed and let a man suck my cock—who comments on how good it tastes with ass juices on it.  We are right next to the Professor, who is still fucking the loaded young man.  Suddenly, it’s the Professor’s turn to be surprised.  “I’m cumming…” he announces, every bit as surprised as the man before him.

I kneel and taste this triple loaded ass.  I sigh---this is one of the main reasons why I love group sex.  I thrust my tongue into him.  The young man squirms and his hole pushes out a huge dollop of cum onto my tongue.  “That what you want, fucker?” he groans.

“I want to churn it,” I tell him the moment I have swallowed the triple mix of seed.  I stand and push in.  I fuck eagerly.  I can understand how the three men came faster than they expected.  The boy feels like velvet.  The lube of semen is amazing.  And his milking technique is what only a few bottoms seem to figure out.  I stop thinking about all that.  I pull out for a second, my cock coated.  The young pig swivels and expertly cleans my dick of all the men’s juices he’s had in his ass.

I fuck him again—before making way for his fifth cock—and likely his fourth load.

He becomes the centerpiece of the evening.  On all fours, he dominates the bed—and for the first 90 minutes of the gathering he is the hole into which every man wants to stick his cock.  And more often than not, he’s loaded.  (It seems like every one is a multi-cummer but me!)  It doesn’t hurt that he’s a good 10 to 20 years younger than the other men, or that he’s thin, toned, tatted and cute.  But it’s his talented ass that keeps him busy.

*****

I play with many others.  Always keeping a watch on the young man.

After his cumming, the Professor took a little break, but he is now in full bottom mode.  I watch him get fucked on the bed.  When the top pulls out of him, I ask if he wants to get into the sling.  He does.  I love the used, if not cummy taste of his hole.  He seems to love the feel of my dick thrusting into him after months of not seeing each other.

We break and he heads downstairs where there seems to be a ton of action.  I don’t make it there for the young bottom has come over to me.  “Sling?”  I ask.

He gets in.  I smile—he can get into the stirrups with no help. 

I kneel.  His ass is wetter than before.  “How many loads are in there?”

“I’ve lost count…”

I dive in and tongue him hungrily.

“…at least 10…”

I squirm into him harder.

“…likely more.”

I can’t reach them the way I want.  I stand up.  I’ll use that flared cock head of mine to pull some out.  I fuck him hard.   Chain rattling hard.  A man sticks his cock in the boy’s mouth.  I pull out, pulling a drool of cock scum out of  his puffy ass.  I kneel and clean it up.  When I stand, he pulls off the cock in his mouth and shoots me a look of pleading—for a taste of what I’ve just eaten.  I bend down and kiss him.  His tongue invades my mouth. 

I fuck.

I lick up the cream running from his hole.

We kiss.

“I need you on the rimseat.”

“Fuck, yeah.”

We leave the sling, I get under and he sits.  I feel a man straddle my chest to fuck the boy’s mouth.

My tongue prods him.  And he flowers open.  He has a rosebud and I didn’t know it.  His prolapse fills my mouth.  Dripping everyone’s cum onto my tongue…

*****

I remember the Professor fucking and creaming another man at the end of the evening.  But I don’t remember how I got off.  We’ll leave it open for now….and I bet I’ll get an email reminding me….

Happy Fourth

My work schedule is terrible in July.  

I will try to find time to continue posting, but it will be sporadic for a bit.

I would much rather be out in the woods.

Especially as drawn by Tom of Finland.

Maybe by the end of summer....

The Footballer Shows Off

Near Home—April, 2017

Late in the month I was beginning to get really horned as CLAW approached.  I had a free night but no one was taking the bait on any of the hook up sites.  I gave up and went to the bookstore.  But not before I sent the Footballer a text and told him what time I’d be there.  He agreed to meet me.

The Footballer played much more in public the last time we met, before insisting on taking the fucking to a private booth.  As I drove in, I decided I wanted to see just how far he might go…

I pay my admission to the two theaters.  I go into the straight one.  One lonely looking man is there.  He ignores me.  He only has eyes for the overly silicon-ed balloons passing as breasts up on the big screen television.  I leave him to it.

There is only one man on the gay side, too.  But much more to my liking.  He looks like he left his big rig in the parking lot, though I know that’s not so.  He’s mid 40’s with dark hair cropped quite close to the scalp.  He’s dressed in a white T-shirt and blue jeans with work boots that have seen a lot of service.   His blue jeans are splayed open.  A fat, beefy cock is in his equally beefy hand.  The T-shirt is pulled up, exposing an extremely hairy abdomen.  I sit down opposite him.  I can’t take my eyes off the hairy knuckles wrapped around his meat as he flogs it.

I open my fly.  My cock is sticking out of the pouch of my jock.  I am super hard.  I spit on my palm.  I wet my cock and start to stroke.  Our eyes are locked on each other—fuck the boys sucking dick on the screen.  It’s almost a game of chicken—who is going to cave in and suck the other first?

I do it.  I decide the moment his cock starts precumming.  I get up and sink to my knees in front of him.  He simply spreads his legs wider.  He grunts as my mouth envelops his cock.  My tongue constantly moves over the wet helmet head of his dick.  I work his foreskin with my tongue.  I stop stroking myself and concentrate on getting this thickness deeper into my throat.

“Suck my dick, you cock whore,” he almost whispers.

I re-double my efforts.

The door buzzes and swings open.  It’s the Footballer.  That ex-football player frame looms over us.  He’s a great contrast—short blond hair, ten years younger, much more muscled than the man in my mouth.  I look up, never taking the thick cock out of my mouth.  The Footballer grins at me. 

“Let me suck that thing.”  It sounds loud as the Footballer says it.  I move over and let him kneel down to suck the cock I have left really wet.  The Footballer takes out his own thick dick from his cargo pants and starts to stroke as he sucks.

I stand up to watch.  But the Trucker reaches out a hand and pulls me closer—so he can suck my dick.  He’s pretty good—though the angle is not the best.  I let him suck me for a bit—but I know what I really want to do.  I pull out of his mouth and pull the Footballer’s hips back slightly so he’s more on all fours—but still sucking.  I pull down his pants and reveal that full ass.  I kneel behind him and lean over to lick his butt.

The Trucker likes this.  He grunts his approval with a “Fuck, yeah.”  But it’s cramped back here.  I can lick his crack, but can’t zero in on his pucker with ease.  I stand up and pull a chair away from the wall.

“Get up on here.”

The Footballer reluctantly takes the Trucker’s cock out of his mouth.  But he does it.  He kneels on the seat of the chair.  I kneel behind him.  His ass is right where I want it.  The Trucker wastes no time in standing up and feeding the Footballer his cock again.  I zero in on this tight hole I love to fuck.  The Footballer groans around the dick in mouth.  I tongue him.  Hard.  I want that hole open and dripping with my spit.  I tongue him until I am so ready to fuck.  But I don’t.  Instead, I stand up and come around to this mouth.

The Footballer ovals his mouth and tries to take both our dicks into his mouth.  Two big heads make it all but impossible.  He gives up and goes back and forth on us.  It is so hot to see this handsome man servicing two daddy dicks.  First me.  Then the Trucker.  Deep throating me.  Deep throating the Trucker.

The Trucker pulls out.  I really think he is going to shoot.  The Footballer takes me to the root again.  The Trucker kneels and twists his head around until he can lick my balls while the Footballer sucks me deep.  It feels great.  I love having my balls tongued by this man you’d never think would have man sex.

I finally pull out of the Footballer’s mouth.  I go back to his ass.  I kneel and eat it for a moment, but then I stand and begin to insert.  The Footballer tenses, even stops sucking the Trucker, for a moment.  After all, no one has ever seen me fuck him before.

“Fuck this slut,” the Trucker grates out.

There is a moment where I think the Footballer is going to tell me to stop.  But he doesn’t.  You can actually see it on his face as he decides to go for it.  His ass flowers open and I sink inside.  He feels incredible.  And I love watching him suck the man in front of us.

“Nice ass?”

“Fuck, yeah,” I tell him.  “He’s great.”

My hips slap against the rounded cheeks of the Footballer.

“Fuck that asshole.  Breed him.”

I pick up the tempo of my fucking.

“You want to fuck him first?” I ask?

“Naw, I don’t do man ass.”

I am now long dicking on every thrust.  My balls slap against his hairy ass.  I have just gotten here, but I am going to blow my load if I’m not careful.

“You should try it,” I tell the Trucker.  “It’s a tight, hot hole.”

The Trucker grunts.  I can’t tell if it’s a yes or no.  Then I realize it’s his warning that he’s about to cum.  He is suddenly fucking the Footballer’s mouth.  He holds onto the Footballer’s ears so he can’t pull off.  I increase my stroke.  I’m going for it.  How is anything else going to be hotter than this tonight?

The Trucker cums.  Hard.  Nosily.  And he must be shooting a ton the way his body is jerking and how much he is swearing under his breath.

I cum the moment that registers.  Just as noisily.

“Fill his ass with your cum, fucker.  Breed him!”

I finally stop pumping.

I marinate in his ass while I watch the Trucker pull himself together.  He grunts at us one more time and leaves.

“That was intense,” huffs the Footballer.  I pull out.  I lick up the one drop of cum his ass is allowing out of his hole.  The Footballer gets up carefully.  I see that he’s cum all over the seat of the chair. 

“Damn,” sighs the Footballer.

“I didn’t know if you’d let me fuck you in front of someone.”

“I almost didn’t—but it was just too hot to get up and leave.”

“Yeah.”  I drop to my knees and start cleaning up his dripping dick.  “Yeah, it was…”

AC Gets Wet

  Chicago—April, 2017

AC has made frequent comments on this blog.   He wrote me privately in March.  He sent pictures.

By April, we had agreed on a meet.  For a number of reasons, AC didn’t think he should attend the piss party—but he liked the idea of a motel meet once I was done there.  So did I.   I would arrive randy and thoroughly hydrated.  AC booked a room at the motel nearest the party.

He sent me a text as he checked in.  I sent him one as I sat in my car, drinking a Gatorade, before the party.  He sent me one back telling me he’d be cleaned up and ready for me any time after 8:30 pm.  I went off and played as you’ve read—hydrating with water and a lot of piss as often as possible.  And saving my cum…

AC comes to the door.  He’s tall and younger than I.  I instantly remember his phrase from early on in our email exchange:  “I could be easily persuaded to meet up sometime, if a thick built blond guy with long curly hair that you can pull is to your taste.”  He’s described himself well.  And with a great smile, I might add. 

The sling gets set up just inside the door; the rimseat to the side of the bed.  We make conversation easily as we get the room ready and begin to strip down.

And I need to piss.

“Do you want it?”

A look crosses his face which says I must be kidding.  He kneels, all but naked, on the tarp under the sling stand.  My cock is neither soft nor hard.  It rests on his lower lip and tongue.  I begin to let it go.  I try to manage the flow, but I can’t.   It is soon a torrent—and he takes every drop of it, swallowing hungrily.  It makes his cock very, very hard.  No wonder he’s asked to top more than bottom.

But tonight he gets to be used.

“Up on the bed.  I want to taste that hole.”

He gets on all fours—right at the edge of the bed.  I bury my face in his generous ass.  I find his hole and dig in.  It gives way to my probing.  I work him open, leaving his ass good and wet with my spit.  I stand up and press my cock head into the relaxed pink pucker.  I slowly enter AC for the first time.  He groans into the pillow.  I hold.  I drool some spit down on the remaining inches of my cock.  I apply slight pressure.  He opens up and I am in to the hilt.

It’s my turn to grunt.  He’s squeezing my dick with his ass.  Milking my well used dick—which has already had three and a half hours of play.  It feels great.  I begin a slow fuck into him.  He grabs at a pillow to hang on. 

I fuck, grinding into him.  Slow and deliberate.

At some point, I pull out and taste his ass again. 

I don’t spend long—just enough to get the flavor of his ass lube all over my tongue and beard.  It makes a bead of precum appear on my dick.

I tell him I’m wiping it off my cock and smearing it on his hole.  I tell him I’m going to fuck it deep into him.

AC groans and tells me to do it.

So I do.

And the fuck picks up pace.  I am soon slamming my hips into his rounded cheeks.  The sound of my hips slapping his upturned butt fills the small room.

We break.

We move to the sling.

I taste his now thoroughly fucked hole once more.

I fuck him some more—letting the chains rattle.  I pull out of his ass.  I send a geyser of piss across his chest and hard cock.  I direct some up to his open mouth—but most pools on his chest.  I lean across him and noisily slurp up my own piss.  I spit some into his mouth and go back for more.

And then we fuck again.

******

“I want you to check out.”  I reach for the leather blindfold that hangs on the sling frame.  I fit it onto him.  “Now, just lie back on concentrate on sensation.”  I have him hold onto the D rings about his head.  I am giving my dick a break. From fucking, at least.  I start with that hard cock of his.  I piss on it—just a short spurt.  My mouth engulfs it.  I lick up every drop I can.

I move to his right nipple.  I suck it.  I piss on it.  I lick it dry.

I do the same for his fragrant armpit.  The taste of his natural sweat and my piss is heady.  I share it with AC in a deep kiss.

Now I work down the left side of his body, repeating it all.

Nips:  Chew.  Piss: Lick. 

Pits:  Tongue. Piss:  Clean. 

Kiss…

Only then do I piss on his ass crack and let it drip as I fuck him again.

*****

“We should use the rimseat.” 

AC starts to get out of the sling.

“Wait.”  I empty the rest of my bladder down his ass crack for my rimming pleasure.  I help him out of the sling and get under the rimseat.

I have no idea how long I am under him.  Poking him with my tongue.  Letting the piss clinging to the hairs of his ass shower my mouth and face.  I have to stop stroking myself as I rim.  My cock is starting to feel a little sore.

“Next time,” AC tells me as he finally gets up, “I need to get under there, too.”

“Yeah,” I agree, “but right now I need to breed you.”

“Where?”

“The sling.”

I help him get in.  I briefly lick his hole, but it’s all about getting it in him and getting off.

I fuck.  Hard.  But not for long.  I grunt out a noisy climax.  After all, it’s after hours and hours of play.  I hold on to the top frame of the sling and let my cock spasm into the willing man below me.

And I don’t move.  I stand stock still.  I concentrate .  And it starts.  One last piss.

“Oh, yeah…”  AC can feel it washing out his guts.

I can’t stop.  I just keep pissing and pissing.

AC grabs his cock. I stay in him, my cock slowly losing girth as he jerks on his swollen cock.

He shoots.  

Only then do I bend to lick it up…

AC kindly gave me permission to use his pictures.  Now that I see this piss picture, I’m sure he fed me piss---but I don’t know where that falls in the narrative!

Piss Party Trio

Chicago--April, 2017

Less than a week after we had hung Jacob from his ankles and repeatedly used him, I was off to the monthly piss party in Chicago.  According to my notes—I didn’t fuck as much and I drank a lot of piss.  I mean, A LOT.  I was tanking up for later that night…but that’s a story for the next entry. 

Here are three moments of an eventful (and very wet) gathering.

It’s dark in the back corner.  I stop feeding the piss I made on the road down the throat of an old reliable.  I go and am refilling my water bottle when I notice them come in.  It is the couple I met at my first piss party, years and years ago.  (The older top had sized me up, literally hefting my hard cock which was jutting out from my damp jock.  He pointed out his slightly younger boy who was bent over in the middle of the room, taking raw dick in both his holes, only stopping to pull off the cock and open his mouth wider, when a third man pissed all over his face.  “You can do anything you like with him,” he told me.) 

I smile.  And wait for them to check their bags with the cute clothes check otter.  I wave at the top who goes over to piss on a groveling pig in the wading pool.  He gives me a thumbs up from across the room.  The good looking boy grabs a beer and takes a healthy swig on his way to me.  We embrace.  It’s the only time this man will be dry during the next four hours.

“Suck my dick.”

“Yes, Sir!”  He gets down on his knees, leaving his beer on the back bench.

I always forget how good this man is with his mouth.  I love good head, but it’s rarely going to get me off.  I am now letting a man blow me who could certainly get me there if I let him.  The suction, the tongue action, the pressure—all are perfect.  Another man about our age comes over.  Without asking he just unloads a hot flow of piss all over my cock.

The boy groans and his dick, which never gets fully hard, flickers to life for a moment. He guzzles the piss noisily until it peters out, then he goes back to sucking me.  His mouth is now so much hotter.  Literally, after the cold beer. 

I pull out and pinch his cheeks until he ovals his mouth.  I spit.  It lands on his tongue and sends a shiver of appreciation through his entire body.  I shove my cock back in him.  I take charge now.  I hold his ears and fuck his face.  He whimpers quietly—making me even harder if that’s possible.

I finally have to stop, dammit.  We are only 40 minutes into the party.  I pause and cool down by ordering him to lick my balls.  A man approaches from behind the boy groveling in front of me, licking my hairy sack.  I nod at the  man giving me a questioning look.  Piss erupts from his cock.  It covers the boy’s head.  It runs down his back.  It forms a pale yellow trail down the crack of his ass.

The piss subsides.  “Stand up and bend over.”

He grabs the bench where his beer sits, untouched, thrusting his ass at me.  I kneel and lick the stranger’s piss out of his ass crack.  I spit on his slightly open pucker.  It’s early.  I rarely fuck in the first moments of the party, but I know I’m going to stick my dick in him.  I push in, slowly, until my damp pubic hair is grinding against his piss wet ass….

*****

“Have you met him?”

The grey haired pig standing in front of me, waves his beer in the direction of a very furry cub standing at the bar.

I tell him I haven’t.

“He comes from somewhere in Michigan.  He looks thirsty.  You should go say hello.”

I smirk, fill my water bottle and go to introduce myself. 

He is about half my age.  He is also shorter by about a head.  He is extremely furry, carrying a shade more weight than he likely wishes he did.  But he wears it well—and it just gives him more area for fur.  He has a beautifully shaped beard.  I learn he lives in a bigger city, about an hour from my home.  We exchange names—and the fact that we barely know anyone who does watersports in Michigan.  Well, our type of watersports…

We’ve talked enough.  I need to piss.  I aim it at the pouch of his jock.  He groans as I empty about half of my bladder on him.  His cock is hardening from the soaking.  I kneel and begin sucking the fabric dry.  Soon, I’m sucking his smallish dick.  He gets rock hard in my mouth.

“Let me try that monster.”

I stand.  He kneels.  I let him slobber over my dick.  He’s good.  I think about giving him the rest of my piss.  But I hold off.  I wait for his knees to tire and for him to get back up.  He turns his back to reach for his forgotten drink.  I let fly all over his ass.  He groans out the word “Fucker.”  He is so hairy it clings to him.  Every drop it seems.  Barely any hits the floor.  But my knees do.  I bury my face into the furry jungle of his ass.  Now he really groans and tells me to “Eat out my furry asscunt.”

I do.  Savoring every drop.

*****

“Hey, guy…”

I am standing in the middle of the room.  The party is beginning to dwindle down.  The Coat Check Otter has emerged from behind the counter.  Totally naked.  And hard.

We kiss.

I suck his dick for a moment.  But he pulls me off him and drops to his knees in return.  He takes me to the root and deliberately looks up at me, with that cute face crammed with my engorged dick.  My dick head swells deep inside him—and spits out a gob of precum.  His tongue works my slit until there is no trace of it. 

He pulls off my cock, looking right at me still.  “Fuck me.”

He all but pushes me backwards to one of the high benches.   I lean against it.  This puts my cock at the perfect angle to enter his ass.  He spits on my dick one last time and impales himself on me.  He barely stops to adjust to the size.  He’s on a mission:  to get off before we are interrupted with someone needing him back at the coat check.

He grunts.  So do I.  He feels damn good.  I tell myself not to get off—I have other plans for my load tonight.  CCOtter grinds down on me.  Again.  And again.  His hand is a blur as he pleasures his dick as my cock hits every nerve in his ass.

“Fuck me.  Fuck me!”

Guys come watch the fuck.  One stands right in front of the Otter.  I know what’s coming.  A geyser of piss hoses down the boy on my cock.  From his neck to his crotch.  He is dripping piss. 

The Otter’s hand moves faster.  His ass tightens.  My cock is encased in the tight sleeve of his butt as he shoots his load into the puddle of piss on the floor in front of him.  Spurt after spurt hits the wet concrete.  I hold him.  I let him shake.  My arms tighten.  I kiss the back of his neck and tell him he’s a good boy…

*****

Any other time, I would have given the Otter my load.  But I had other plans that night.  I was staying the night with a blog reader…

Tom of Finland....

...and the power of a good piss....

Equipment Close-up: Suspension Stirrups

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