Author: admin

Stepping away from my series of stores that I’ve recently posted here, this is one that is based in reality. While I have created a character of Richie as a locked sub, in hypothetical scenarios with fictitious Doms, many of my stories are actually based on real experiences.

I am, in reality, a locked sub, and Richie is my real first name. I am nearing 50, and I do have Doms in my life that resemble Jace, Master James, and Sir William in some way, shape or form.

In my real life, I do consider myself a faggot and I’m proud of it.  I love to show off my cage and actively seek opportunities to do so. I do wear my cage to the gym and yes, I do walk around naked. I should be clear, I don’t do it to hook up, although that has happened, I wear it because I get a thrill when men notice me wearing it. I do, in real life, have a keyholder, and yes, his name is Jace, and yes, he is a built Black man, but he’s not, in real life, as mean as I depict him in my stories. Jace encourages me to be proud of my faggot identity and has said, many, many times that modesty is an attribute of men, not faggots. It is with this belief that I wear a towel around my neck in the locker room, and not around my waist.

Am I the whore I portray in my stories? I suppose that is a relative term. To some, I’d be described as such. To others, they would deem

me prudish. I’m probably somewhere in between. I get a lot of dick, and fists when I want them, but it is not as often as you’d think.

In real life, Jace is a partner in an international construction firm and does travel for business, sometimes for weeks at a time. Jace is my keyholder, someone who I submit to , and have for about ten years. We are in no way romantically involved, but we do enjoy an interesting dynamic. There are no ties. He hooks up with whomever he wants as do I, especially when he is away.

So it was one of those times when Jace was away and I was feeling frisky. As I wrote above, I have no problem showing off my cage in public spaces, such as the gym. The thing is, my gym is not very cruisy at all, so hooking up there is extremely rare. To scratch the itch, I decided to go to the local sauna.

I haven’t been there in quite a long time, but I was wanting to check it out.

I took a ride share over and paid the fee at the door for a locker and a small cabin for an 8 hour block.

The locker room is a communal, pretty open space and depending on the time of day and the day of the week, it could be busy or lonely.

At this particular time, there were three of us stripping at the same time.

I was not at all hesitant to take everything off and rolled the towel around my neck.  The two other dudes noticed my cage right away, which, if I had to be perfectly honest, is what I hoped. One was gent in his late 40’s probably, pretty good shape, still had a head of dark hair, hairy chested, and the other was a much older man.

“Locktober?”, the younger of the two asked.

“Well, yeah, but I’ve been locked since last November.”, I said.

“Impressive.”, he said.

“Thank you, Sir.”, I said.

I didn’t stick around and linger, I decided to check out my cabin and walk around a bit, and yes, I wanted to show off my locked dick.

One thing I’ve learned over the years is that some guys are turned off by chastity, and that’s fine. To each their own, right? But, then there are others who are intrigued, or fascinated, or really turned on. What I love about cruising is the instantaneous reaction. You can see revulsion/repulsion on faces, and you can also detect the opposite. In my experience it’s usually a 60/40 split, with the majority in the repulsed/revulsed camp. I’ve grown accustom to kinkster shaming and it doesn’t even bother me anymore. I make no apologies for being authentic self.

So I did a lap or two around the place  to check out the scene and to determine potential play partners. While doing so, three men took it upon themselves to slap my ass cheek with the fairly large pig tattoo on it. Does walking around locked, exposing my ass translate to consent for an ass slap?Probably not, but I’ve also learned along my journey to the deepest depths of submissive faggotry, consent is a privilege that us faggots don’t enjoy. We serve at the will of men, whether it be a momentary slap on the buttocks or something more intense. It is this with this mindset I arrived to the Club even before I arrived.

I wouldn’t call myself the best cruiser that ever lived, but I’m not the worst either. I’ve been around long enough to know how to get men’s attention. I strutted around slowly, nearly naked other than that towel around my neck to get some men excited to be with me.  Once I’d hooked one, I’d reel him back to my cabin for some sexy fun.

For me, looks are not as important as a man’s attitude and the vibe. The last of the three ass slappers was certainly my type. I didn’t exactly walk away when his hand made contact with my butt. He was tall, somewhat muscular, light trimmed hair on his chest, probably near 50, bald but thick beard, dark menacing eyes. His posture was erect and his snarl exuded confidence. Like he had the right to slap me simply because he wanted to and I was there for the taking.

I let him slap me a couple more times in an open space as a few men watched. Then I turned around and nodded my head for him to follow me. And he did.

I used the key I had wrapped around my wrist to open my cabin door. There was a small bed, a little table next to it, and hanging on the wall was a lube dispenser and a small tub of condoms.

“Boy, what’s your name?”, he asked when I closed and locked the door.

“It’s whatever you want it be, Sir.”

“You mean if I want to call you asshole, you’d be ok with that?”, he asked while laughing.

“My keyholder already calls me pig hole, so I’m used to being called whatever comes to your mind, Sir.”, I answered.

“Well then I’m gonna call you asshole because the first time you made a loop around here it was clear you were looking to get your asshole fucked.”

“Oh yeah?”, I said while placing my hand on his growing cock under the white towel.

“Fuck yeah”, he said. That snarl on his face was back, the one that drew me into him just moments before.

When I leaned in to kiss him, he waited until the moment before our lips touched before placing his hand behind my head and pushing me downward until my knees hit the ground.

“Take my dick out, asshole!”, he demanded.

I undid his towel and it dropped to the floor. Between a thick bush of dark dense wiry hair and two pretty big balls hung a sizable shaft. It was cut, and definitely a grower, not a shower. Just with a mere touch with my fingers, the shriveled flesh began to harden and grow instantly. I wasn’t expecting almost eight inches of dick meat to form from what I was working with, but magical things sometimes happen.

“Nice cock”, I complimented before licking the head like a lollipop. I teased it, licking gently, feeling its warmth in my hand, begging for my mouth to take it in.

“You gonna suck my dick or what, asshole?”

I didn’t respond verbally. I took my hand off his shaft and replaced it with my lips, sliding it over my open tongue until I let the head through to my throat passage. Every inch of that man’s dick was down my throat. I locked my lips and slowly pulled my head back before slamming it back down all the way.

Up and down my head went falling in lust with this cock before me. The man attached to it seemed to be enjoying my oral talents immensely, telling God how great it rent and how amazing my mouth was.

“Let me see your ass, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

I rise from the dirty floor and bent over the small mattress. The burly man squatted, spread my ass cheeks and buried his beard in my trench. His tongue was delightful, swirling around my ring and darting inside, preparing me for his fuck tool.

After a few minutes, he stood, squirted some lube into his open hand and covered his meat, not even bothering with a rubber or asking if I preferred using one. Men like this guy, they take, they don’t ask. They know what they want, and know that faggots like me will give it to them. This man had me pegged from the moment his hand smacked my ass.

My cunt hole was filled with Alpha dick, finally making me feel useful and fulfilled. With every hard thrust and smack on the ass I was serving my purpose.

“Fuck! Your ass is so good on my cock! Take it, bitch!”, he demanded.

My head fell into the hard mattress, my back arched, ass up, arms forward, hands gripping onto the edge as the man, who never identified himself because he didn’t have to or want to, used my fuck hole for his pleasure. Growling like a bear all throughout, he buried his throbbing dick as deep as he could go. The growling transitioning to deep guttural grunting and I felt his cock stiffen inside me. I knew he was close, he was gonna seed me.

“Ohhhhh fuuuccckk!”, he groaned and with one final and hard push his member exploded like a volcano, spewing hot cum deep up my ass.

When he pulled his dick out, I quickly spun around to finish the job, opening my mouth and using my tongue to savor the gift of his Alpha essence. Satisfied I’d completed the job, the tap simply patted the top of my hand head as a small gesture of appreciation. He wrapped the small white towel around his waist and disappeared, leaving me there on my knees with a dripping and loose hole.

It was euphoric to be used like that. Cock is like a drug when it’s used right and can induce this organic high. I needed more. I didn’t want to come down. No, not yet.

I stood and left the the towel in the room, on the mattress, closed and locked the door and went back on the hunt. I’d taken maybe a dozen or so steps when I felt a gush of semen flow out of my hole, drip my exposed sack and the back of my hairless thigh.

“Oh well”, I thought to myself: I had no shame about it. I wore it like a badge of honor.

Once again strutting around only in my black Cobra cage, or cheese grater, as real life Jace calls it because of its design.

On the second floor were a couple of open rooms with three slings and two fuck benches. Most were in use and some guys were standing around either waiting for their turn or watching the action.

I was furious to see whose legs were in the stirrups so I inched closer. Another locked fag, twink looking guy in his 20’s, stereotypical blonde, blue eyed, his hands thrown back, the look of absolute bliss on his face as a big hairy daddy stuffed his hole with his fat dick.

I wasn’t paying attention when a hand touched and squeezed my left cheek and a finger found my wet hole.

“Somebody’s been busy”, a voice whispered in my ear.

I hadn’t turned to see who it was just let.

The man took to his knees right there in front of the small group and ate my hole out. His rough whiskers burned my creamy smooth ass as I pushed more seed out and he gobbled it up, even used his tongue on my balls.

Then he stood behind me again and fingered my ass. I still hadn’t even looked at him.

“I love sloppy seconds. Can I fuck you?”

“Yes”, I hissed.

That’s when I turned around and it was the older man from the locker room. The one I barely paid attention to. He was 5”8, 175, thinking white hair, thick white mustache, a carpet of white chest hair. I never would have suspected him to carry a nine inch dick in his hands, but there it was.

“Was hoping to run into you”, he said in a sweet voice.

“Well, here I am, daddy”, I said.

“You locked boys are always so easy, you know that.”, he said slyly.

“That’s the point”, I said.

“Come on, there’s an open sling over there. I wanna fuck you in it.”

That’s what I love about bath houses. Men are more direct in person and unlike online apps, there’s an authenticity that is missing behind a screen. There’s connection or there’s no connection, and you know instantly.

At that moment, I was very connected to this older gent’s hard cock. I held it like a leash as we walked to the empty sling. Before mounting it, I bent over to taste it, to feel its heft as it grew even harder between my lips. Maybe daddy was using a dick pull, it was solidly brick hard for a man almost seventy. I didn’t care, I was going to benefit from it.

I placed my body into the sling and my fucker put my feet in each stirrup. I’d covered his cock with plenty of throat juice and my hole was wet. Daddy rubbed his stick up and down my crack, teasing me. Then he stepped back, spit right into my ass ring and gave me what I wanted, nearly taking my breath away. I was truly impaled with every inch right up to his balls which were already high and tight.

Some guy wearing nothing but a leather vest and a cock ring walked up to me and placed a bottle of amyl under my nose and that really had me spinning out, and I begged the older man to pound my pussy out. Not only did he oblige, he pushed his nuts into my gape and fucked me even more.

It had been a long time since a man stuffed his nuts into me at the same time as his dick, but I was loving it. My cage was leaking now, that dick was hitting me in all the right spots to churn up my balls.

There were now a few men gathered around the sling watching me get railed. I think the stimulation was too much for this old man, and once someone stood behind him and started to twist his nipples, he started to flood my fuck hole. Remarkably, he came twice in just a couple of minutes, and also remarkably, my hole felt like gallons of jizz was bloating my insides. The old man pulled his balls and his shaft out of me and my hole squelched. I was far too gone on a poppers induced high when it was all over and this guy vanished into the crowd. I wasn’t able to thank him for the gift he planted inside me.

The very same leather vested guy who filled my head with vapors took his turn, savoring the seed pouring out of my used pig hole with his talented tongue. Once he’d had his fill, he paid it forward, shoving his dick right up my ass and filling it up again for the next guy.

This went on for three more rounds, fuck, fill, rim, fuck, fill, rim, fuck and fill. I’d lost track of who was dicking me down and eating my ass as I became more delirious and less aware of my surroundings with every passing minute.

I needed to take a break. My legs were getting stiff and I also felt like I needed to hydrate. I dismounted the sling, grabbed my towel and headed to the shower room to rinse off. Afterwards, I made my way to the bar and was happily surprised when Gatorade was on offer.

I stood next to an empty bar stool, naked, and sipped on the refreshingly cold beverage while watching some twink getting nailed by an older stud on the screen.

The bartender, a very handsome, mid-twenties, hairless, built boy straight out of Sean Cody central casting, took notice of my dick cage.

“I see more guys wearing cages this year.”, he volunteered.

“Yeah, I know”, I said. “They say chastity is the kink of the year.”

“Most guys do it for Locktober”, he said

“It’ll be just about 11 months for me.  I do enjoy Locktober, but it’s more than that for me.”

“Damn! Seriously man. 11 months. That’s wicked. How do you do it?”

“Honestly, I don’t even think about anymore. It’s like wearing underwear or socks to me.”

“Don’t you miss your dick man?”

“Not really. I get more out of working other guys’ dicks. It makes me much more focused on them.”

“I’d go ape shit if I couldn’t touch my junk. I guess your tops must love it.”

“They do and so do I.”

“Hot. So you finding any fun today?”, he asked.

“Yeah. I have a cabin and had some fun there, but I just left the sling. I had some guys fucking Nd breeding me, it was pretty hot. I needed to take a break so here I am.”

“Sounds like a good time. I’m stuck behind the bar until closing tonight so I don’t have time to play.”

“Do they let you play with the customers?”

“I don’t do it all the time, but as long as it doesn’t get in the way of tending bar, nobody says anything.”

“That’s cool. I’d imagine a good looking young stud like you gets lots of action working in a place like this.”

“I get my fair share, but I just don’t overdo it.”

“Smart guy. Not me, once I get one dick, I can’t stop until I get more. this cage makes me crave dick 24/7. That’s why I’m here!”

“Damn, that’s hot. Wish I could fuck you right now, but I don’t think fucking at the bar is a good idea.”

“Probably not. If you get a break later and you’re in the mood to get off, I’m in room 8. No pressure though.”

“Cool.”

Just then another customer walked up to us. A red headed man in his 30’s, stocky, thick red beard, ginger hair all over his chest, green eyes. Probably 5’ 10” or 11”, 200#. He appeared like a former defensive end on a college football team.

“Am I interrupting something, fellas?”, he asked in a very straight presenting deep baritone voice.

“No Sir”, I blurted out without thinking.

He turned in my direction and gave me a once over full frontal body scan. When his eyes connect Ted with my cage he froze.

“Nice man. Does it hurt?”

“Only when it tries to get hard, otherwise no.”

“Fuck…wait…what? What happens when you’re sleeping? Don’t you get morning wood?”

“No. The cage prevents me from getting hard so I don’t get boners anymore.”

“Damn, that’s so faggy! No boners! Why the fuck would you even do that?”

This guy was hot, but I didn’t like him at all. Fucking cocky bastard!

“I don’t owe you an explanation of anything. I don’t even know you.”, I said calmly.

The bartender interrupted.

“Hey stud, what can I get you?”

“Rum & Coke”

Once the bartender turned his back the red headed stud turned back in my direction.

“Hey, weren’t you the faggot in the sling just before?”

“Yeah”

“Dude, that was hot. You left before I could fuck you.”

“Sorry bro, I needed to take a break.”

“I can see why man. Those guys fucking fucked you hard dude.”

“Yeah, they did.”

“You must have a fuck ton of spunk up in you.”

“I do”

“Did you rinse out?”

“Not my butt, no”, I offered.

“So you’re still full of jizz?”

“Probably”

Just then he started openly rubbing his dick.

“Can I fuck it?”

“Here?”

“Hey buddy!”, the red head shouted to the bartender.

“Yeah, you need another?”

“No, hey, is it ok if I fuck this guy in here?”

“I don’t care, just don’t jizz on the furniture.”

“No, I’m gonna breed this slut.”

“Have fun!”

“What makes you think I’m gonna let you fuck me, bro?”, I said.

He started striking his dick and it was definitely wearing me down. Thick, hard, sizable…I had to have it.

“Because you can’t keep your eyes off my dick.”, he said.

“I’m not sure I like you, but that doesn’t matter, I do like your dick.”

“Show me”

I took to my knees and placed his erection into my mouth while others at the bar watched.  It tasted even better than it looked. His musky odor was making me even more aroused.

I finally stood up from the floor and bent my ass over a barstool. I reached behind me and stretched my ass cheeks wide open.

“Fuck man, your hole is fucking gaping man”, he said before sliding his cock right inside.

“Ohhh fuck man. Your hole is so wet.”

He was right. I could hear and feel the slop sloshing around in my guts as this brute pounded my ass out in front of our small audience. Cum was gushing out of my hole while I was being taken. A few swift swats to the ass ensued before he grabbed a handful of ass flesh, his body tensed, he roared loudly and took himself to climax, flooding my hole, more than replenishing the seed that had escaped.

A final hard swat to my backside, his body shook, and then the pullout.

“Anyone else wanna get in this ass? He’s pretty sloppy.”

He just offered up my ass to these guys without asking me first! WTF!

“Yeah, I’ll jump in, some distant voice said.

My fucker held my head down with one hand while his other forearm rested on my back, holding me in place while the new fucker mounted me from behind. This was a thin and long pencil dick as I call them, my hole was too loose to grip this particular cock, and so slick that it was gliding in and out of me like a dip stick. His forehand joined the other one, increasing the pressure on my back. Other hand slapping my left butt cheek.

“Breed this fucker’s ass. Give him another load bro.”

I was in no position to object. I put myself in this predicament and wasn’t exactly protesting or complaining. I took it like a champ and let this complete stranger blow his nut into my booty.

“Anyone else?”

I recognized the bartender’s voice.

“I can go, but it has to be quick”, he said.

“I don’t think he minds”, the guy holding me down said on my behalf.

The bartender’s cock was big just like him. He must have been edging himself for quite some time because he lasted only two or three minutes at most and loaded me up.

“Fuck man. I couldn’t hold back. His ass is so sloppy, haven’t fucked an ass that wet in a long time”

“I really don’t think he cares. Do t even worry about it.”

The guy let me go and I immediately stood upright to get the blood flowing back as it’s supposed to. I put a couple of fingers in my hole and checked for myself. These men weren’t kidding, I was very full of cum.

I drank the rest of the Gatorade and headed back towards my cabin. I just wanted to lay down for a bit to recharge. I’d been there for several hours and had several more to go,

I must have nodded off for an hour or so and when I woke up I decided to rinse off again. When I stood, a fresh gush of cum poured out of my rectum. Damn, I was still full of seed!

After rinsing off, I decided to check out the steam room, as I hadn’t even been in there yet. The steam was on full blast and it was very hazy at first. I could barely make out bodies sitting along the perimeter of the cozy room. I felt my way to an open spot and sat down between two men. The one to my left was big and burly, a hairy bear. To my right, a leaner, taller man. I couldn’t make out faces distinctly, but he was bald and the bear had thick curly hair and a beard.

When I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to relax, I was startled when a hand groped my thigh. It was the bear’s, I discord when I looked downward. his hand rubbed my thigh and inched higher and higher. I didn’t stop him from feeling me up, but when his hand connected with my cage, he abruptly got up and left. I guess he thought I was a top that might fuck him. It happens.

Minutes later, the band guy did the same, rubbing my thigh, but then his hand started to move behind me, wanting to feel my ass. I lifted myself up and his finger slipped inside me.

“You’re so wet”, he whispered in my ear in a British accent.

“Yes”, I agreed.

“Have you been naughty?”

“Yes Sir.”

“How many loads did you take today?”

“I don’t know, more than 5, maybe 10.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes.”

Two more fingers joined the first, giving me nice stretch.

“You like that, do you?”

“I do, Sir.”

“I can tell. Your hole opened right up for me.”

“Mmmm hmmm”, I groaned, lifting myself slightly up and down on those three fingers.

“Ever take a whole hand?”

“Yessssir”, I hissed.”

“I might have guessed judging by how you’re taking my fingers. You want my hand inside you?”

“Yesssir”

“Not in here. Not enough lube, although your hole is very, very wet, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…I have a room.”

“Do you now?”

“I do”

“Was hoping to get my paw into some willing hole today. I’ve got some fisting grease in my locker. Which room are you in?”

“Eight”

“I’ll meet you there in a few.”

I decided to purchase a butter of fresh poppers before heading to my room, I stood by the open door waiting for this guy. I couldn’t wait to see him clearly.

He was very hot! A well-kept short light brown beard, dark brown eyes, hairy pecs and a treasure trail leading down to a trimmed bush. A towel just wrapped below the bush line, I wondered what he was packing under there. In his hand was a small tub of Elbow Grease.

He kissed me in the doorway and we slipped inside the cabin and he closed and locked the door behind him.

We continued swapping tongues as he fell on top of me, my back now flat on the mattress.

His fingers pulled and twisted my right nipple which was making me crazy.

Then he glanced downward and looked into my eyes.

“I love fisting locked boys. So hot.”

I didn’t say anything, I didn’t need to. I wanted him to fill me with his hand. I’d taken all that dick already, I wanted a wild finale.

I pulled my legs back and grabbed my ankles, exposing my hole.

“Ohhh you’re an eager one, aren’t you?”

He opened the grease and rubbed it all over his right hand. As he started to finger my hole I opened the poppers and took a good hit. Nothing beats that first hit of a new bottle, and immediately I felt myself grow warm and my hole was tingling.  I was ready pretty quickly.

“Put it in, please”, I begged.

“Fuck yeah. A hungry hole!”

A well greased hand closed into duckbill form and slid in slowly. As his hand sunk in deeper, my ass lips opened and stretched around his fingers. Just a the precipice of pushing his hand all the way through, I took a second round of deep hits and nodded my head that I was ready for it.

His hand was sucked into my rectum and it was glorious.

“Ohhhh yessss”, I hissed.

I wasn’t really planning on taking a fist that afternoon, but one thing led to another, and there I was, legs spread, taking this paw.

My fister left his closed hand inside me for a few moments before his fingers probed inside me, searching for the pathway to further depths.  I closed my eyes and held my hands behind my head, relaxing my entire body, allowing this man to dig his forearm deeper, just about halfway to his elbow.

That was probably far enough for me without true chemical assistance, but my pussy does enjoy a good punch out. After a third hit, I pulled my legs back further and begged for it.

“Punch me, Sir! Wreck it!”

This forearm pulled back and almost all the way out of my tunnel before it was punched right back inside. Like a slow moving locomotive, a closed fist busted into my innards, always stopping way beyond the wrist, faster, harder, faster, harder, making me nuts. It was a tease. I was craving a blow out.

“Come on man! Fuck it up!”

It is true when they say be careful what you wish for. I’m hard pressed to remember a time when a hand delivered such devastating and remarkable blows in rapid fire succession. My groans reached a fever pitch, octaves I hadn’t hit in years were reached, quicker, harder, and I was at the edge of a momentous assgasm.

“Don’t stop! Please!”, I was begging with all of my heart.

My fister growled, matching my groans knowing he was doing something special. I felt my hole spasm and my body shook as he brought me to this place of nirvana, and my cum was pouring down my Cobra cage, volleys spilling as my balls emptied.

After this wild experience of intense and epic heights of pleasure, my body fell slack. I had reached this place of utter serenity. My ears were ringing. A wide smile grew on my face. Every problem in the world didn’t matter in these precious moments of zen.

My fister pulled his hand from my hole and laid next to me.

“That was fucking awesome! You came so hard. I’ve never seen anyone cum like that! Fucking hot!”

I was too relaxed and stupid to respond. I let this man spoon me and I felt safe and secure in his embrace.

I felt his breath grow heavier on my neck and he fell asleep. I followed him in slumber there after.

Being fucked and taking loads was very fun, but taking this man’s fist, well, that was miraculous!

We slept for quite awhile and when we awoke, cell phone numbers were exchanged and we were anxious to meet again.

I’d learned his name was Mike. I really liked Mike.

I hope he calls me to play again sometime soon.

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It was late, and my eyes were getting heavy.  I had been driving for nine hours, and I only had five more hours until I reached my destination.   This thruway offered a small text stop area where you could rest.  It was small and mostly taken up by truckers.  They left room between their trucks for a small car to pull in crossways with the tail end sticking out a bit.  I pulled into one, turned my engine off, and slumped back into my seat.  I was glad it was dark enough so I could most likely just piss in front of my Jeep with no one noticing.  I got out, walked in the grassy area, stretching my legs.  I spied a porta-john nestled just on the edge of the tree line. What the hell. I may as well use it. My legs could use the walk anyway.  

As I walked up to it, I could just barely make out the shape of the man who was standing next to it.  As I approached, his form became clearer.  He was a grizzled, older bear of a man.  A shaggy full beard and a baseball cap pulled low on his head.  He had a white T-shirt stretched across his beer belly and baggy jeans hanging low on his hips.

“Somebody in there,” he grumbled as I got closer.  “If you just gotta piss, just step on the side here,” he added, moving so I had a path to the side that was actually facing the wooded area.

“Thanks,” I said, walking past him.  I stood on the side, slid the front of my workout shorts down, and let loose with a long, fast stream of pee.  It seemed like I was going to pee forever.  Finally, slowing down and shaking the last drops away, something caught my eye.  My eyes had become accustomed to the darkness now, and I could see something moving on the side of the john.  Looking closer, I could see that it was a hard dick sticking out of a hole someone had cut out.  I had stopped shaking my dick and just held it in my hand as I checked out the cock pointing straight at me.

“Go ahead and get you some,” I heard the guy standing at the front say to me.  “I’ll look out for you.”

“Uh, I think I’d better get going. It doesn’t seem safe here.”

“It’s plenty safe.  Lots of us meet up here all the time.  If one of us lights a cigarette, the others know the party’s on.”  He waited for a few moments, looking at me and stepping closer.  “I see you haven’t put your stuff away,” he said, reaching over and taking my cock in his rough hand.  “Go on,” he said, grabbing the cock in the hole and waving it at me.

“What the hell,”  I said, shrugging my shoulders.  “Why not?”  I bent over and slid my mouth over the bulbous head of the anonymous dick in front of me.  I heard a groan come from inside the john as I slid my mouth down the shaft. The man inside gruffly ordered me to suck him hard, as he bucked his hips forward.  I increased my vacuum pressure on his cock and began to bob my head up and down.  It wasn’t long before I had synced my sucking to his thrusting.  His hips banging the side of the john was causing quite a ruckus, and I started to worry it would attract the wrong kind of attention.

“You got him going good,” the grizzled trucker beside me said, bending over me and getting close to my ear.  “Keep it up and make that fucker cum,” he said a little louder and close enough that his whiskers touched my ear.

My legs were getting tired, but I wasn’t about to stop and kneel.  I reached my hands up and braced myself against the john.  It was then that I felt the trucker step behind me and grab my hips, pulling me back into his crotch.   That was the anchor I needed to keep up with the man on the other side of the wall, fucking my mouth relentlessly.  It was only a few moments before I felt a hand leave my hip and circle my now hard cock.

“SUCK IT.  I’M GONNA CUM,” the unseen man growled out as he sped up his thrusts even more.  A few more hard shoves, and he stopped.  I kept my tight seal on him as I felt his cock throb and begin to shoot a load.  He didn’t yell as I expected, but rather let out a series of low moans and whimpers.  We both held very still and quiet until the last drop of cum leaked from his softening cock into my mouth.  Slowly, he pulled back, taking his soft cock from my mouth.  I slowly stood up, getting my sea legs back.

“Don’t let him see you when he comes out,” the man behind me said, still holding on to my cock.  “He don’t like Black people.”

“Well, that’s his fucking problem,” I retorted.

“I ain’t never seen him cum either.  He usually just lets somebody suck him until they get tired and he zips up and leaves, never saying a word to anybody.”

I was about to say something when the john door opened and the man walked out.  I was about to turn and walk around the john to avoid any confrontation when I heard him speak.

“Hey.  You.”  I stopped and turned and locked eyes with him.  What I saw took me aback.  Not my type in any way, shape, or form.  Here was a young (maybe late 20s), very thin, slightly shaggy, average height, almost pretty, guy standing in front of me.  We both just looked at each other, a little stunned for a few seconds, before I spoke.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Thank you,” he said, extending his hand.  “You’re the second person that ever made me cum from getting sucked off.”

“Glad you liked it,” I said, shaking his hand.

“I could give you a hand job if you want me to.”

“Naw, I’m good,”  I politely declined his offer.

“Maybe next time,” he said, letting my hand go and turning to walk away.

“Yeah.  Maybe,” I responded, watching him leave.

“Holy fuck,” my grizzled friend said, putting his hand on my shoulder.  “You know how many guys chase after him?”

“Not my type,” I responded.

“What is your type?”

“Let’s see,” I said, turning to him.  “Someone around my age.  Somebody with a nice belly and some meat on their bones.  Oh, and hair all over is good too,” I ended my summation, reaching up and grabbing a handful of his bushy beard.

“I think I might know somebody who fits that description,” he said, stepping closer.  “Wanna meet him?”

“Yes, I do,” I said, running my hand from his chest, across his belly, and down to the front of his jeans.

“Follow me,” he said, patting me on the back and walking into the trees.  I trailed him for a bit until we came to a small clearing with a wooden table in the middle.  “Sit down,” he said. motioning me to the edge of the table.  I was between a sit and a lean as he came up to me.  

“Yes, you do fit the description,”  I said, just before he covered my mouth with his.  We kissed fervently, hands roaming all over each other.  We both relished the fact that we were both pretty hairy and both fairly thick.  He buried his face in my chest, going from one nipple to the other, loving the fact that he could lick, bite, and suck, all eliciting the same horny response from me.

“Not too many Black guys as hairy as you are,” he said.

“Mother’s side,” I gasped as he licked his way down my belly to my crotch.  It only took him seconds to yank my shorts off my hips and swallow my full seven inches.  “Fuck,” I gasped as he held himself down, milking me with his throat.  When he was short on air, he pulled off and stood, inhaling deeply.

“I got a few tricks up my sleeve too,” he said, smiling at me.

“Yes, you do.”  I pushed him back a little and slid off the table to my knees in front of him.  “I know what’s up your sleeve, so let me see what’s up your pant leg,” I said, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans.

“Hope you ain’t disappointed.  I don’t have as much as you but……..”  He stopped talking as I swallowed his five inches of fat, uncut cock with a very audible moan.  Reaching around, I grabbed his furry butt cheeks and pulled him into me until my face was buried deep in his crotch.  “Oh yesssssss,” he hissed as he held my head and slowly fucked my mouth.  Between his throaty sighs and my approving moans, neither of us heard the footsteps of approaching visitors.

“Mind if I get some of that too?” a deep voice came from behind.  Startled, I abruptly stood, trying to focus on where the voice came from.

“Don’t worry.  It’s just one of the boys.  We all know about this spot and come back here for fun,” my bearded friend said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder to reassure me further.

“Okay. I guess.  I’m game as long as me and fuzzy beard here, get to put on a little show first,” I said, realizing that six guys were standing around us.  There was some mumbling amongst the guys, and my shaggy friend took the lead.

“Sounds like we got an audience,” he said excitedly, as he stripped his clothes off and laid them in a neat pile under the table.  Just as quickly, he shucked off my shorts and t-shirt and laid them on top of his.  “Don’t wanna lose the clothes,” he chuckled.  He then hopped up on the table and lay on his back.  “Do what you will with me,” he said, inviting me up. 

I wasted no time climbing onto the table and straddling his legs.  My cock, which had gone soft, was starting to lengthen again as I rubbed it against Gruffy’s (the name I gave him in my head) still hard member. It didn’t take long before he was urging me up so my dick was right in his face.  As he opened his mouth to suck me in, I could see the guys gathering around the table closer.

My eyes were adjusted enough so I could see faces and shapes fairly clearly.  Much to my surprise, it seemed as if I had hit a jackpot.  All six of the men appeared to be over fifty, which was a definite positive for me.  I prefer men around my age (45) or older.

Gruffy was working his magic on my cock, and I reached back to stroke his.  I wanted more, though.  I swung my body around into a sixty-nine and gulped down his hardon.  I felt a hand rub over my ass, and another one massaging my balls.  I could see the men had closed ranks on the table, and my peripheral vision allowed me to see several cocks sticking out of pants.

A face came down next to mine and said, “Let me help you with that.”  It was the handsome, chubby Asian guy who caught my eye earlier, who was built like a linebacker.  We both worked on Gruffy’s cock and balls, switching places, licking and sucking.  Several times, our mouths met and we shared a quick spit-swapping kiss.

The next thing I felt was another mouth lapping greedily at my low-hanging nut sac.  This was turning out to be quite the adventure.  The guy licking my balls worked his way up until he was drilling into my asshole with his tongue.  After a few minutes of this heaven, I sat up and moved out of the sixty-nine with Gruffy.  He sat up, and I helped him off the table where he stood next to me.

“Okay, guys.  My buddy here and I are gonna give you another show if it’s okay with him.  We’re gonna take turns fucking each other.  You cool with that, man?” I said to him.  

“Fine with me,” he said, and bent over the table.  “I’m going first, though,” he proclaimed while he was bending over.  

I knelt behind him and spread his hairy cheeks and found his hole with my tongue.  I could tell he’d had more than one dick in his ass in his lifetime. That meant I could get him nice and wet and not have to spend a lot of time working my dick into him.   It only took a few minutes before he was writhing his ass around in anticipation.  

When I stood up, I could see that one of the men was lying on the table, and Gruffy was busy slurping on his cock.  I patted him on the ass and nuzzled my cock head right up to his hole.

“You ready?” I asked, tapping his ass again. His response was quick.  He shoved his hips back, taking in half of my cock.  “Good going, bud.  Here comes the rest of it.”  I spread his cheeks apart and slid the rest of my seven inches into him, balls deep.  I heard him groan as I hit that second ring we all know too well.

“Fuck him good,” my Asian linebacker, who was standing next to me, said.  “Don’t cum though.  Unless you have more than one load, you save it for me.”  He stepped behind me and held his crotch, hard dick and all, against my ass, matching my every thrust, as he reached around and began tweaking my nipples with his thick fingers.  The guy Gruffy was sucking got up and let another of the guys take his place.  This was the skinniest and smallest of the guys, but he had quite a sizable dick to make up for his height.  Gruffy made no bones about his willingness to try and get the entire length down his throat, as I fucked him even harder.

“I gotta stop,” I whispered to my linebacker behind me.  “I’m gonna cum if I don’t.

“Cool,” he said, stepping back and taking me with him.  My cock hit the cool night air, instantly missing the warm wetness of Gruffy’s asshole.  “Lay on your back with your head off the edge,” he said to me in a matter-of-fact tone.  As I was getting into position, I saw Gruffy climbing up on the table between my legs.

I watched him intently as he lifted my legs and put my feet on his chest.  He spat a copious amount of saliva onto his fingers and rubbed it on my tense hole.  He smiled down at me as he inserted one finger into my tightness.  He wiggled it around, causing my ring to spasm around his intruding digit.

“Oh, yeah.  Nice and tight.  And, I’m gonna be the first one in.  You ready?” he asked.  Just as I lifted my head to nod okay, my Asian linebacker came over and supported my neck on his arm, and rested my head on his belly.  It took me by surprise when Gruffy roughly jammed another finger in me alongside the first one.  I winced and gasped.  “Got you open now,” he said, removing his fingers.  He moved my feet from his chest and put my legs on his shoulders.  With no further foreplay, he slid his cock into me.  “Goddamn, he’s tight,” he announced to everyone as I clamped my muscles down on his cock.

“You okay?” Linebacker asked me, bending down.  

“I’m good,” I moaned.  I was thankful that Gruffy was letting his dick simmer in my hole, letting me get used to him.  At this point, Linebacker let my head down and bent over my body.  His hard dick and balls were covering my face as he stretched himself.  I felt his hands grab each of my ass cheeks and spread them, also pulling my body up.  Gruffy’s cock slid out of me most of the way, and Linebacker took that opportunity to start sucking me.

“Oh fuck,” I cried out as Gruffy began to ram his cock in and out of me, causing my dick to go further into Linebacker’s mouth.  I wanted his dick in my mouth instead of his balls running across my face, so I reached underneath him and grabbed his meat.  It was definitely a handful.  He lifted up for me so I could better pull his cock back, and what a cock it was.  Fat and uncut, it was more cock than I was going to swallow, but I was going to give it a good try.  I opened my mouth and let him do all the work.  He knew he had a big cock, and trying to ram it down my throat was not going to work.  Slowly, he rocked back and forth, inching a little further each time.  He slowed his pace, sucking my cock, but Gruffy was still fucking me full throttle.

“I’m gonna cum,” Gruffy said a little louder than he probably should’ve.  He slammed his cock in me one last time, and I could hear him huffing and chuffing as he shot his load into me. Linebacker was letting his cock simmer in my mouth as he did the same with my cock as Gruffy finished cumming and finally pulled out.  

Linebacker stood up and helped sit up on the table top.  Gruffy seated himself next to me.  “That was fucking great,” he leaned over and said quietly to me.  “I’m gonna stick around and get my shit back together and probably join back in.”

“That’s cool,” I said back to him.  “Maybe we’ll get some more play time.”

“Cmon, you ol’ coot.  Move over and let me up there.  My hole is achin’ ta get plowed,” the man said in a slow, low, southern drawl.

“Alright, Alabama,” Gruffy said to the man, making it clear that he knew this guy.  “You got a hot one here,” he leaned in and said to me.  “This good ol’ southern boy loves to get fucked.”

“Good enough,” I said.  “Get on up here,” I told him as I scooted off the table.  I took a look at him as he got on the table and lay back.  He was a small in stature, dude.  Maybe about 5’4”, very slender, but muscular.  The only body hair that appeared was a little patch on his chest, a copious amount of pubic hair, and a thick mustache.  He was a rugged-looking guy who gave the appearance of “don’t underestimate me. I may be small, but I’ll fuck you up.”  

“I’m wet.  I’m hard, and I’m hotter’n a firecracker,”  he drawled.

“Let’s see what you got,” I said, stepping between his legs and raising them to my shoulders.  He was wearing nothing but cowboy boots, a baseball cap, and a nice, hard six inches with a mushroom head.  I felt Linebacker behind me, rubbing his hard cock up and down my ass crack.

“Tease the little fucker,” he said quietly in my ear.  “Make that fucker beg for some big Black cock.”  I nodded in understanding and began to rub my cock head against Alabama’s wet hole.  Either he or someone else had lubed him up pretty good with a healthy portion of gel.  He was already open because it took almost no effort for me to slip my cock head just inside his hole.  I left it there and watched him squirm around, waiting for the rest of it.  I teased him for a while, with just the tip of my cock.  I would take it out all the way, just letting it rest against his hole as I watched him squirm more and beg me to give it all to him.  I also wouldn’t let him touch his cock, which was leaking precum like a faucet.

“You want this cock,” I said more as a statement than a question.  He just nodded and whimpered out a strangled, “Yes, please”.  I slid balls deep into him.  His mouth opened wide, not emitting any sound, and his eyes rolled up.  Not the tightest ass I’ve ever been in, but that can be a real good thing when you don’t want to cum right away.  He was a hot one, though, and he let you know that he loved a dick in his ass.  His body spasmed and shook as I fucked him nice and slow.  I gripped his cock, smearing his precum all over, and jerked him in unison with my fucking.  Three of the other daddies came over and began working on Alabama.  Two were sucking on his nipples, while the third one got on the table and began mashing his cock and balls against the prone man’s face.

Meanwhile, Linebacker was still behind me, teasing my asshole with his cock.  He never once tried to invade me, though.  He did, however, have the most prolific skills at nipple play.  He squeezed and tugged and flicked with such precision, I thought I was going to cum from it.  He stopped after a while and put his hands on my shoulder blades, urging me forward.  My upper body was lying across the man I was fucking while the two daddies working on his nipples held his legs up and back.

“Oh shit,” I groaned as I felt Linebacker nudging his thick cock into my wet hole.  I was glad that Gruffy had loosened me up and left a nice amount of cum in me.  “Take it easy, dude.  That’s a lot of dick you got there.”

“Don’t worry.  I’m not trying to hurt ya.  You got me so fucking hot, it’s not gonna take me long to cum.”  He slid his head into me and held it there.  I could feel Alabama’s ass clenching my cock as it jumped and wedged deeper in him.  It was only a matter of moments before my asshole and cock had taken a life of their own.  My cocks desire to thrust pushed me back onto Linebacker’s thick piece of meat.  With each backward movement, I raised my upper body until I was standing erect.  

“Motherfucker,” I gasped as Linebacker reached around, grabbed my pecs, and pulled me back, completely impaling me.  As he started to fuck me with long, methodical thrusts, he drove my cock deeper into Alabama.  I took hold of the little southern man’s rigid dick and began stroking him.  Linebacker had taken my ass cheeks/hips in his big hands and proceeded to move me back and forth. He was fucking me while he was using me to fuck Alabama.

The daddy at Alabama’s head had placed his cock in the man’s mouth and was not quite making him deep-throat him, but his hips were moving at a steady pace.  Linebacker began to move me back and forth faster, and he had me fucking the little man hard.  It was then only a matter of seconds before Alabama’s legs went straight up and his cock started to spurt.  The daddy on top quickly bent over and swallowed the spurting cock, catching the lion’s share of cum.  It must’ve sent him over the edge, getting a mouthful of semen, because I saw his body start to shake, and I could hear him grunting around the cock in his mouth.  

When he finished cumming, he didn’t waste a lot of time letting the cock slip out of his mouth and climbing down from the table.  Linebacker was holding me tightly without moving as Alabama scooted backward, extricating my hardon from his ass.  

“Thanks, man,” he said to me quietly in his slow southern drawl, as he also slid from the table.  Linebacker was still inside me with his arms wrapped around me, ever so slightly moving in and out and side to side.  Out of the dark, Gruffy appeared.

“I thought you left,” I said, breathily, as Linebacker held me tighter and pushed his fat cock as far as it would go.

“Told ya I just had to rest up,” he said, wedging himself in between me and the table.  He sat on the wooden top and reached around and grabbed my ass cheeks, pulling them apart as he pulled me towards him. My hard cock was pressed against his rising boner, and Linebacker was relishing the fact that he could plunge even deeper into me.  “Go ahead and git it,” he said to Linebacker, as he gripped my ass even harder and pulled them as far apart as he could.

I was just about to tell him to lighten up when he covered my mouth with his.  He forced his tongue inside my mouth, muffling the groans as Linebacker began to fuck me hard, fast, and deep.  

The two daddies left mounted the table and jockeyed for positions.  One pulled Gruffy onto his back and straddled his face, pushing his cock into the man’s mouth.  The other daddy stood in front of me, took my head in his hands, and fed me his schlong.

“Oh fuck,” he said as he fed me his entire cock.  “You got it all, babe,“ he said with surprise.  He didn’t have a huge cock, but it was by no means small.  Linebacker eased up on his hard thrusting as the daddy I was sucking fucked my mouth mercilessly.  The several times I gagged and choked didn’t stop him.  It seemed to turn him on, and he continued to pummel my face with his crotch.  I couldn’t go much longer, so I devised a plan.  I took balls that were covered in my saliva in my hand and rolled them around, getting my fingers coated.   I reached around and grabbed his ass, making him think I wanted it even harder.  On one of his back thrusts, I plunged one of my fingers into his tight hole.  He howled and tried to pull away, but I held him firmly, encased in my hot mouth. I pushed deeper, and he howled again and let loose with a flood of cum.  Before he could finish shooting the last of his cum, he let go of my head and swatted my hand from his ass.

“Fucker,” was the only thing he said, as he pulled his still dripping cock from my mouth, and leaped from the table.

“Get the fuck outta here,” I heard a baritone voice grumble to the angry daddy who didn’t like his asshole poked.

“That’s Mountain,” Linebacker whispered in my ear.  “Looks like a killer, but he’s the nicest guy around.”  I squinted into the darkness, and my eyes focused on a massive body coming towards me.  He stepped more into view, and my eyes rested on a giant, Black man.  He must’ve been around 6’5” and as wide as a truck.  He sat on the table next to me and laid his massive hand on Gruffy’s unattended crotch.  I watched him wrap his fist around the man’s cock and stroke it slowly.  

“Bout damn time,” the massive man said to me quietly and friendly.  I looked into his eyes as he groped with his other hand and found my rock-hard cock.  “Nice,” he sighed, as he stroked me.  His hand was big and rough, but he was very gentle.   I made a move to reach for his dick, which I had not yet seen.  “Not yet,”  he said, blocking my reach.

Linebacker began to drill into me again.  Not as hard and not as fast as before, but I could tell it was a buildup.  I could feel his heavy breathing on the back of my head, and we were both moaning.  It was good and I wanted to cum, but Mountain was not going to let me.  He ceased stroking and just held my cock and balls in his hand, massaging them.  

The daddy that was fucking Gruffy’s mouth started to snort and grunt.  I saw his body stiffen, and he shook as he emptied his load into Gruffy’s mouth.  

“Don’t swallow it,” Mountain said to Gruffy.  Linebacker began to pick up his pace, and my face was now pressed against the larger-than-life chest in front of me.  The daddy had finished cumming in Gruffy’s mouth and turned his body to return the favor.  “We got this,” Mountain said to him.  The daddy looked dejected, but who was going to argue with Mountain?  He left silently, grabbing his clothes and giving Gruffy a sincere thank you.

“FUCK!  I’m gonna cum,” Linebacker huffed as he rammed hard one last time and held his cock deep in me.  I used my muscle control and began milking his cock with my asshole.  “That’s it, baby,” he grunted, still embedded deep in me and not moving.  I soon felt his cock start to throb and jump as he began to shoot his load deep in me.  By this time, Grumpy was sitting upright and watching the action as Mountain still stroked his cock.

“That’s right, man. Breed that fucker,” Mountain said, a little excitement entering his voice.   A few more twitches and I could tell that Linebacker had finished shooting his load.

“Oh shit,” he hissed, burying his face in my neck.   “I left a week’s worth in there for ya, Mountain.” 

“Good deal, my brother.  Pull on out and let’s get you cleaned up,” Mountain suggested.  Gently, he extricated himself from my ass.  As he was pulling out, Grumpy was getting off the table and standing next to me.  Mountain took my right hand and had Grumpy empty the load in his mouth into it.

It was as if this scene had been choreographed as I eyed the men, deftly taking new positions.  Gruffy had moved to my right and bent over the table, ass exposed, ready to get fucked. Mountain had sidled over a bit, and Linebacker was standing atop the table to the right of the big man.

“Rub that cum all over his asshole,” Mountain said to me.  “Make sure he’s nice and wet for you, inside and out.”  I did as I was instructed.  I didn’t need to see what I was doing.  I was more intent on watching what Mountain was up to.   Gruffy squirmed as I lubed him up more than he already was, slipping two fingers inside him.

Eyeing intently, I was more than surprised to see this humongous Black man swivel his head and suck in Linebacker’s now limp cock.  I could hear the big Asian man moan as his cock was fully engulfed.  I had gotten so excited watching this that I didn’t realize I had jammed two more fingers into Gruffy’s willing hole, making him squirm more and moan louder.

“Holy fuck, Mountain,” Linebacker groaned as the big man let his cock slip from his hot mouth.  “I need to sit down before I fall down,” he added, hopping down off the table and sitting next to the big man.

“Guess it’s my turn to get some time in with this young, brother,” Mountain said, turning towards me.  It was my first time looking closely at him, and I could now see that this handsome Black man was maybe in his early sixties, or maybe older.

“Anything you want, big bro,” I lustily replied to him.

“Wanna see what you can do with the Mountain’s mole hill?” he asked with a smirk as he scooted back on the table.  For the first time, I got a glimpse of what he had swinging between his legs.  I slid my fingers from Gruffy’s ass and patted his cheeks, as I focused all my attention on the man in front of me.

What I saw was a beautiful, soft, dark brown, log of a cock, with enough foreskin to keep me happy for days on end.  “Can I touch it, big bro?” I asked tentatively, not knowing why I felt the need to ask.

“No hands for now.  Only lips, tongue, and teeth,” he said, resting his paws on my shoulders and urging me down to my knees.  As I sank, I could smell an aroma of pure sexiness emitting from this man.  I wasn’t going to waste time, but I wasn’t going to rush things either.

I gently took his lengthy foreskin between my lips and sucked it into my mouth.  I wanted to reach up instinctively and open his skin so I could run my tongue deep into it, but I knew better.  To the best of my ability, I let my tongue find the opening and run around it.  After a few moments of frustrating licking, Mountain took pity on me, and with his thick fingers, he pulled his skin wide open, allowing me to lick around to my heart’s content.  I was good for a few, but what I really wanted was to swallow Mountain’s fat log and feel it grow and swell until my mouth and throat were filled to maximum capacity.

I pulled my head back and looked up at him, and nodded okay.  He knew I was ready.  No turning back now, I thought to myself.  I opened wide and worked my way down his soft cock until my nose was buried in his rough pubic hair.

“Good boy,” he said, patting me on the head and stroking the back of his hand down my cheek.  I stayed down on him, but lifted just enough to let air flow into my nose.  I started with a light suction followed by gentle swirls of my tongue. 

“Yeah.  You fuckin’ know,” he sighed, still stroking my cheek.  I could feel his meat start to swell and lengthen.  Thank God he was a slow grower.  He grew to the point where it was getting to be too much for me to handle, but I didn’t back off.  A little bit more, and I started to gag as his fat cock head invaded my throat.  Even then, I stayed steadfast, forcing myself to relax my muscles and keep swallowing his cock.  His last spurt of growth was the final straw for me.  My eyes were flowing tears, snot was running down my nose, and my body was heaving and spasming, trying to get more oxygen in.  

“Ease up, little brother,” he said as a suggestion more than an order.  I pulled back just enough to clear my throat and get a healthy gulp of air.  As quickly as I backed off, I slid back down on him, once again burying my nose in his pubes.  I couldn’t keep that much cock in my throat for long, though.  I thought he was going to hold me down when I felt his hands wrap around my head.  Just the opposite happened.  He pulled my head back until his entire cock left my mouth.

“Come here,” he said, hoisting me up to my feet.  “We got a mess here,” he joked, pulling on my long goatee.  Gruffy jumped in with a t-shirt from somewhere and wiped my face off.

“I ain’t never seen nobody take Mountain like that,” Gruffy said to me, clapping me on the back, and still cleaning my face off.

“What’s next?” I asked Mountain.  He patted the table next to him, inviting me to sit next to him. The minute I sat, he lowered his head to my chest and began to lick, suck, and bite on my nipple.  This man seemed to know exactly what it took to turn me on.  I felt a mouth on my cock and saw Gruffy bent over.  Mountain went from one nipple to the other, causing me to groan loudly from pleasure.  I was surprised when he began to lick his way down my chest, to my stomach, until he met up with Gruffy.  I watched him politely move the bearded guy aside, giving him access to my hard cock.  I couldn’t see, but could only feel as he placed his mouth on my cock head and began to suck on me.  His massive body was making it awkward for him to twist and bend to adequately suck me, so he stood up and told me to stand up on the table top.

“I don’t think I’m gonna be as good at this as you are,” he said,  with a chuckle, wrapping his huge hand around my cock and stroking it. 

“As fine as you are, you don’t have to be good,” I threw the compliment out there to him.  I had gotten a better look, and he was one good-looking Black Daddy.  His well-trimmed grey hair and beard were a definite bonus for me.  I watched in awe as the big man slid his mouth onto my hard cock, once again.  “Fuck,” I hissed as his warm mouth enveloped me.  

He went halfway down me and gagged a bit.  I hadn’t expected him to take me all in.  We all know the difference between sucking a big cock, soft (which he’d done earlier), and a modest rock-hard seven inches.  And, I was definitely as hard as I was ever going to get watching this handsome man wrap his full lips around me and bobbing his head up and down.

“Just the head,” I lied to him, giving him an easy out.  “Just sucking the head is perfect for me.”  I was only partially lying.  If he had continued to suck me like he was, I was surely going to cum, and I didn’t want to do that just yet.  I could just barely make out Gruffy down below, trying to contend with Mountain’s big piece of meat, orally.

“Oh shit. Stop,” I said, after a few minutes of Mountain’s hot mouth.  “Don’t make me cum yet,” I begged him.  He did heed my warning and stopped.  And, as easily as if I were a ten-pound sack of potatoes, he wrapped his arms around my legs and lifted me from the table, and let my body slide down his until I was on the ground.    I truly wasn’t expecting the gentleness from this giant of a man, but he lowered his head and kissed me so seductively I could’ve ended everything right then and been completely satiated.  The kiss went on as he leaned me back until I was once again lying on the table.  I could feel his fat cock rubbing against my mine as we kissed and he blanketed me with his body.  My legs and arms instinctively wrapped around him as much as they could.

“Yes,” I beseeched him as he kept nudging my dripping wet hole with his fat cock head.  I didn’t know if I could withstand a hard fucking, but I was already into it, so hopefully he would play nice.  I could tell he liked teasing me.  He stopped kissing me and just watched my face with a knowing smile as he rubbed against my hole, every once in a while nudging as if he were going to push into me.

“You want my cock, lil’ bro?” he asked.

“Fuck.  You know I do, big bro,” I answered him back breathlessly, pushing my ass up, trying to get him to slip inside me.

“So fucking hot and wet, with all that cum up in you.  I want you so fucking bad,” he whispered as he covered my mouth with his again.  As he kissed me, his belly rubbing against my throbbing cock, he began to enter me.  I was glad I had already been fucked and filled with cum, so that I could enjoy every inch of his cock filling me without the pain.

“MMMMMMMMM,” I moaned into his mouth as he slowly pushed his cock into me, widening me more than I was even ready for.  Finally, he hit bottom.  I could feel his balls against me and his pubic hair scratching my taint.

“Oh, baby,” he sighed into my ear.  “Feels so damn good.”

“It’s so fuckin’ big.  I can feel all of it.”  I was waiting for him to start fucking me with long, brutal thrusts, but it didn’t happen.  He wrapped his arms around me, lifting my body so it felt like I was lying on a pillow, and pulled me in close to him.  Grinding his hips into me, back and forth, and side to side was his rhythm of choice.  I clamped my asshole down on him for added pleasure.

“Don’t do that,” he protested, mildly.  “I like it just the way you are. Already open and wet, and ready for me.”  I loosened up, but he sent my body into shivers as he stuck his tongue in my ear.

“Bet that big dick feels good in ya, don’t it?”  I had completely forgotten about Gruffy until he spoke into my other ear.  “I ain’t never felt it,” he admitted.  “Always wanted to, though,” he said, low enough so only I could hear it.  “I’m gonna go back there and eat your ass.  Okay, Mountain?”  He only got a muffled “ump” from the man who was busy sucking on my neck now.

I knew the moment Gruffy made contact with my giant’s asshole.  His whole body tensed, and he let out a long moan.  He continued to slowly grind into me as if he could possibly get any deeper than he already was.  After a few moments, he told Gruffy he had had enough.

“Felt good,” he said to me, “but all I wanna feel is my dick in your ass.”

“Me too, Mountain,” I groaned out as he hit a spot deeper in me.  I didn’t see his next move coming.  In one swift move, he stood upright, taking me with him.  He was holding on to my ass cheeks, and my hands were clenched together behind his bull neck.  “What the fuck,” I exclaimed, finally grasping the fact that he had lifted me like I weighed nothing and had begun to raise and lower me on his cock.

“You like this?” he asked, even though he knew the answer.  “Just enjoy the ride.”  I had never been in this position, and it was incredible.  I wanted to yell at the top of my lungs.  It somehow got even better.  My big bro began to walk away from the table with me still deeply impaled on his meat log.  Every step he took bounced me up and down on his hardness.  He stopped in the middle of the clearing.

“Look up,” he said to me quietly.  “Look at all those fucking stars,” he said as he leaned his head back and gazed up.  When I looked up, I saw millions and millions of stars in the clear blackness of the sky.  Slowly, he began to lift me up and down on his dick again.  This time, he added hip thrusts.

“Yeah, man.  That’s it.  Fuck meeeeeeeee!”  As he thrust up into me, I kept my eyes averted to the stars.  “Give me that dick, big bro,” I begged.

“I’m gettin’ close, lil bro.  You want my load?

“Fuck yeah.  Shoot that cum in my ass.  Give it to me.”  He began to fuck a little bit faster, but it wasn’t a furious pace.  I lowered my gaze and saw that he was staring at me and smiling as he fucked me.  

“C’mere,” he said when he saw me smile back at him.  We locked lips again, and I could feel his breath deepen and quicken.  One last thrust, and I could feel his cock begin to shoot deep in my hole.  He groaned loudly into my mouth.  I was sure anyone nearby would’ve heard him.  It seemed like his cock was jumping for a longer time than usual.  I wondered how much cum he was dumping in me.

“That was fucking incredible,” I said to him as he held me tight, and his breathing slowed.

“Yes, it was.  Time to take care of you now,” he said into my ear, followed by his tongue.

“If you stay in me and lay me on the table, I can jerk off,” I offered.

“Well, it looks like your little bearded buddy is entertaining,” he said with a chuckle.  I looked over, and Gruffy was taking on two guys atop the table.  One was fucking him, and the other one he was sucking.  “And, I don’t want you to jerk off.  I have to admit something.  I’ve had a dick or two in my mouth, but I’ve never given anybody a blowjob.  I want to give you a blowjob,” he said, staring me in the eyes.

“I guarantee you, it won’t take long.  You fucked me so good, my dick is about to explode right now.”  I wasn’t exaggerating either.  My hard cock was still pressed against his big belly, and had he moved too much more, I would have shot all over him.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he said, as he slowly lifted me off his cock, which still seemed to be semi-hard.  “Tell you what,” he said.  “Let’s go back to my rig, where we can work this a little easier.  don’t think my old knees are gonna handle being on the ground too much.”

“You definitely aren’t old,” I admonished him.

“Sixty-five,” he said quietly as he led me to the exact spot where our clothes were.  He had folded his and laid them on top of mine, which he had also folded.  We quickly got dressed, and my shorts did nothing to hide the fact that my cock was still rock hard, due to Mountain’s continuous fondling as we were dressing.  I stopped as we got to the infamous table.

“See ya later, my gruff friend,” I said quietly in his ear, as I patted his ass, which was still stuffed with cock.  

“I sure as hell hope so, you lucky bastard,” he said, letting the cock he was sucking drop from his mouth.  He smiled briefly and got back to sucking.

Mountain and I walked back to his rig and climbed in.  I immediately walked into the immense super sleeper cabin.  I wanted to take time to look around, but held back.  It only took me a second to rid myself of my t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers and plop down on the bed.

“I shoulda’ stopped at the john and dumped all this cum up my ass,” I said jokingly.

“Oh hell no,” he said, tossing an oversized towel at me.  “Lay on this. I know there’s gonna be some leaking.  I cum a lot.”

“Alright,” I said, kneeling on the bed and spreading the towel out.  It was almost as thick as a blanket and smelled like it had just come out of the dryer.  As I was kneeling, I felt his hand on my ass, followed by one of his fingers slipping into my hole.  I had earlier wiped my cum-drenched hole with some paper towels that Mountain gave me, but I was still plenty wet.

“I sure would like to get in that again,” he said, gently sawing his finger in and out of me.  “Don’t think the old man has it in him for another load, though.”

“Don’t know if I could take it,” I answered, wiggling my ass at him.  I slid off his finger and turned around.  The blackout shades had been lowered, and dim lights were on.  “Holy shit,” I exclaimed, finally seeing the mountain of a man clearly.

“What?” he asked.  “That bad?”

“Bad? You’re not a mountain.  You’re a fucking God,” I said, truly stunned by his good looks and perfect body.  “One to ten, you rate a perfect twenty.”

“Thanks, lil bro, but I don’t know about all that.  Coming from a good-looking brother like you, that’s quite a compliment for this fat, old man.”  He paused for a few seconds.  “By the way, the name’s Morris.  Very few people know that.  I think I’ve said enough, so you need to give me something to put in my mouth to shut me the fuck up,” he said jokingly.

I lay back on the bed and opened my arms to him.  With no hesitation, he got on the bed, covering my body with his.  I could tell he was nervous about putting too much of his weight on me until I pulled him down, and his body had me pinned to the mattress.  He chuckled and engaged me in a long, sensuous kiss.  

Slowly, he began to kiss and lick his way down my body.  He didn’t spend a lot of time on any one spot.  I knew he was a little anxious about sucking me off.

“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” I said, encouraging him and stroking his head.  “My hot fucking big bro,” I groaned as he was licking around the base of my cock.   Having reached his destination, he slowed his pace.  I was writhing in ecstasy as he tongued my ball sac sucking them in one at a time.  When he sucked them both in his mouth, which was no easy feat because I have some pretty big, low hangers. I gasped.  “Ohhhhh.  Fuuuuuck Meeeeee.” I groaned in pleasure and disbelief.  He then fisted my hard cock and pulled his head back, stretching my balls as far as they would go.  “AHHHHHHHHHHHH!  YESSSSSSS!” was all yelled out.

“Nice nuts,” he said after he let them drop from his mouth.  “Time for some nice dick, now,” he said.  The very second he wrapped his full lips around the head of my turgid cock, my body quivered with pleasure.  I watched as he slowly began to bob his head up and down.  His whole vibe had changed. He seemed more relaxed and more into having a dick in his mouth than he had earlier.  I could tell he was still new at it, but he was enjoying what he was doing, and that made it all worthwhile.  

It took everything in my power not to buck my hips up, forcing more of my cock in his mouth.  I didn’t have to.  He managed to engulf three-quarters of my meat before his gag reflex halted him from going further, and that was fine with me.  His hands began to roam underneath me and and he nudged my legs, prompting me to bend my knees and pull them back.  He continued slowly sucking up and down on me as he introduced a finger into my hole.  I could feel how wet I still was from the ease that he entered me.  Then he slipped a second finger in me.  I knew the cum deep inside my ass was ready to seep out.  He stretched his fingers apart, opening my hole, and I could almost feel the cum flowing.  He stopped sucking me and looked down to watch the cum running from my ass onto his fingers and open palm.

“Fuck, that looks good,” he said, pulling his two fingers out and showing me the amount of spooge that had collected in his hand.  “I wish you could see how fucking hot your ass looks right now,“ he said with a moan.  Before I could respond, he wrapped his hand around my hard cock, covering it with cum, and dove his head down.  With his broad tongue, he made one swipe across my hole, over my balls, and up to his fingers.  I watched him lick his fingers off just before he went down on my cock again.  

“Yesssss,” I said, loudly, clutching the bed sheets as if I were afraid of flying away.  “Yes.  Suck me.  Make me cum.  I’m so close.  Pleaseeeeee,”  And he kept me close.  Several times, he brought me right to the edge and stopped, teasing me relentlessly.  The third time, he ran his fingers in me again, letting more cum spill out onto his hand.  This time, he knelt on the edge of the bed by my head and rubbed the cum on his still semi-soft, large piece hanging down.

When he climbed over me in a sixty-nine, I had to scoot down some to accommodate his long legs.  I opened my mouth and licked his foreskin, letting him know I was ready.  I was expecting him to feed me the full length of his cock and let it grow like he had done earlier.  He pulled back his foreskin and gave me his dick head and a few inches to suck on.

“That’s it, baby bro.  Nurse on that fucker,” he said to me.  Another surprise came when he pulled my legs back, hooking them under his arms.  I felt him blowing across my exposed hole, making me wink at him.  “Push it out,” he said between breaths.

“Nice,” he said as I pushed, and yet more cum dribbled from my hole.  The next feeling was him clamping his lips over my tender hole, and sticking his tongue into me.  I was groaning loudly around the thick cock in my mouth, and grabbing his ass cheeks to pull him down to get more of his cock.  He didn’t comply with that, though. 

It didn’t take him long to get what he needed from my dripping hole and take him mouth away.  “MMMMMMMMMMM,” he moaned, as he swallowed as much of my cock as he dared.  I gasped around the meat in my mouth as he began to suck me off in earnest.  His hot mouth had become a suctioning machine as he bobbed his head up and down.

“Oh FUCK!  I’M GONNA CUM!” I yelled, letting his cock fall from my mouth.  “SHIT!” I yelled again as the first spurt of cum shot from my cock into his mouth.  “OH SHIT. OH SHIT OH SHIT,” was the only thing I could manage to shout as he held still and siphoned a load out of my have ball sac.  He kept his mouth locked on me until my body made a final lurch and went slack.  I was still breathing heavy when he dropped my legs down and jockeyed himself around on the bed.  I opened my eyes and looked up at the extremely handsome face of Morris, looking down at me.  I smiled, grabbed the sides of his head, and drew it down to mine to engage him in a long kiss, tasting the remnants of my cum.  After a few moments, he rolled off of me onto his side, his arm and leg draped over me.  I didn’t want to say anything for fear of ruining the mood.

“That was the most fun I’ve had in a long ass time,” he said, following it with a hearty chuckle.

“Me too,” I said, turning on my side and facing him.  “But,” I said with a long pause, “all good things must come to an end.  Unfortunately.”

“Why so soon?” 

“I have about five more hours of driving, and I need to get some rest.”

“What can’t you rest here?  I promise not to kill you in your sleep,” he said, lowering his already deep voice and octave, and snickering.  “You in a big hurry to get somewhere?”

“Not in a hurry.  Just going to Cazenovia to wait for the movers.”

“What are you moving to that little shit town for?” he asked, stunned.

“Got a job not too far and the price of the house was right.  Doesn’t seem like a bad town.  How do you know it?”

“Cuz where I live is about thirty or so miles away.”

“Great, and you’re married with sixteen kids.  Not  a scene I’m looking to get into.”

“You’re close,”  he said, and paused, staring me in the eyes.  “I’m single and always horny.  Now turn around, shut the fuck up, and go to sleep.  I’ll wake you up in about five hours.”  Before I could protest,  he flipped me around and pulled me close in a perfect spoon.

“I don’t know what……”

“Just shut up and get some sleep,” he ordered in a stern voice.

“By the way, I’m Teddy.  Good night, Morris.”

“Good night, Teddy.  Bathroom’s right there,” he said, pointing to a door, before turning out the light and pulling me in closer.

---

To get in touch with the author, send them an email.

---

 The square buzzed with life as dusk settled over the city, casting long shadows against the cobblestone streets. A small crowd had begun to gather near the makeshift stage, their murmurs growing louder with anticipation. In the center stood Martin Kase, a street circus performer who thrived in the dance between danger and wonder.

Martin was not a handsome man by conventional standards. His hoarse voice, permanently marred by years of fire-breathing, grated against the air like sandpaper. His body bore the evidence of his craft—scars on his arms and neck, patches of skin that had been seared one too many times. And then there was the smell. That ever-present tang of gasoline clung to him like a second skin, sharp and unignorable.

Girls rarely lingered near Martin for his looks. But they stayed—oh, they stayed—for the fire.

He began the night with a flourish, igniting a massive fireball that roared into the evening sky. Gasps rippled through the crowd as Martin leaped back, pretending to be a dragon, his cheeks puffed with the illusion of flames ready to burst forth again. The orange glow danced across his face, illuminating the intensity in his coal-black eyes.

His movements were deliberate, almost hypnotic, as he transitioned to his next act. Arching his body into impossible shapes, he became what he called the “Eternal Flame.” He spun and contorted, the flames licking dangerously close to his skin, giving the illusion that the fire had become a part of him. The crowd cheered as the flames dimmed and Martin stepped into the light of a solitary lantern, the shadows casting strange figures on a white screen behind him.

The shadows danced. A boy, his heart heavy with loneliness, journeyed through a world of flames to find the warmth of love and belonging. Martin’s shadow play was not just an interlude; it was a story that resonated deeply with his audience, particularly with the girls who watched with wide eyes and quiet sighs.

And then came his signature move. He scanned the audience, his gaze settling on a girl near the front—a young woman in a denim jacket, her curiosity betrayed by the way she leaned forward. Without hesitation, Martin stepped down from the stage and offered her his hand.

She hesitated for a moment but then accepted, her cheeks tinged pink as he led her to the center. “Don’t move,” he whispered, his voice gravelly but strangely gentle.

He inhaled deeply, the crowd holding its collective breath. A moment later, a fiery cloud burst into life just above her head, painting the air with a glowing orange-red halo. She gasped, half in fear, half in awe, as Martin expertly controlled the flames, keeping her safe while mesmerizing her.

To finish, he lit a series of firecrackers that exploded high above, raining sparks like tiny stars. As they descended, Martin exhaled a jet of gasoline into the air, crafting a fiery picture against the darkening sky—a blazing phoenix rising, triumphant and eternal. The audience erupted into applause, their faces aglow with the reflected firelight.

The girl returned to her place, breathless, her eyes never leaving Martin as he took his final bow.

After the performance, Martin packed away his props with practiced efficiency before setting up his table. The CDs displayed there featured highlights of his acts, along with a few sketches of fire art he had created over the years. A line formed, mostly young women, eager to exchange a word or two with the man who had so captivated them.

Martin greeted each person with a nod, taking the time to look them deeply in the eyes. His gaze was steady, unwavering, and disarming, as if he were searching for something hidden in their souls.

“Thank you,” he would say quietly, his voice low but sincere. “I appreciate your coming. Come again. The pleasure is mine.”

When it was their turn, many of the girls stumbled over their words, unsure how to respond to the intensity of his stare. Some giggled nervously; others blushed under his gaze. To them, it felt like Martin saw straight through their surface, into their most guarded thoughts and feelings.

One girl, emboldened, leaned forward as he signed her CD. “You’re amazing,” she whispered.

Martin paused, meeting her eyes again. “Thank you,” he said simply, his lips curving into a faint smile.

It wasn’t flirtation, not exactly. It was something deeper, an acknowledgment of the connection forged between a performer and his audience. For that fleeting moment, each girl felt like she was the only one in the world who mattered to him.

The crowd had long dispersed, leaving only faint trails of laughter and the lingering scent of smoke. The girl in the denim jacket lingered near the edge of the square, clutching her signed CD like something fragile. When Martin finally closed the latch on his case, she stepped closer.

“Could I—” she hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper, “see you to the station?”

He glanced up, eyes unreadable for a beat, then gave a small nod. “If you like.”

They fell into step, their shadows stretching long and thin under the dim streetlights. The hum of the city quieted as they walked, replaced by the soft clack of her boots on the cobblestones. She stole glances at him, studying the sharp lines of his face, the way his hair still smelled faintly of smoke and metal.

When they turned onto a narrow street, she dared to slip her hand under his arm. The gesture was instinctive, almost tender. He flinched back at once.

“Ouch, burns,” he muttered with a strained chuckle, rubbing his forearm through the fabric of his jacket.

She dropped her gaze, embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s alright,” he said quickly, voice low but kind. “Just still healing.”

 

They walked on without speaking. A tram rattled in the distance, its light cutting through the mist like a blade. When they reached the stop, Martin set his case down and turned to her.

“Where do you go next?” he asked.

She told him the name of her district, and he nodded, as though fixing it somewhere in his mind.

“Well,” he said after a pause, “take care of yourself.”

Then, almost as an afterthought, he leaned in, brushed his lips against her cheek—a fleeting, dry warmth—and stepped back. Before she could answer, he had already turned away, walking in the opposite direction, his silhouette swallowed by the orange glow of the streetlamps.

***

The apartment where he lived was small and spare, a one-bedroom above an old bakery where the smell of bread never quite left the walls. Martin slipped in quietly, hoping the sound of the door wouldn’t carry. It was late—later than usual—and the city’s noise had thinned to the occasional car on wet asphalt.

He went straight to the bathroom. The shower hissed to life, filling the narrow room with steam. He stood beneath it for what must have been half an hour, scrubbing until his skin tingled, the night’s smoke running in gray ribbons down the drain. Then came the mouthwash, cold and stinging, ten long minutes of mint and guilt.

He had lied earlier. There were no fresh burns tonight. He’d said it without thinking—an easy cover, the kind of lie that keeps small tendernesses of random girls at bay.

By the time he turned off the water, the mirror had gone opaque, and the air smelled of his spring rain shampoo. It didn’t matter. Under it all, he still caught that trace of gasoline—the scent that never left him, even on his cleanest days.

… He stepped out naked into the hallway, and tiptoed, toweling himself off with a huge fluffy towel he grabbed from the dresser, as he went.  Inside the bedroom it was dark, but there was a little body curled in bed, and he carefully slid under the covers next to it.

“Ugh, you stink.”

“I want you.”

“Not now.”

The small shape didn’t move away, though—there was just a sleepy shift as the sheet pulled up tight across a narrow back.

“I want you,” he breathed again, tasting the last bite of kerosene on his own tongue.

A quiet huff answered, half protest, half invitation, and he eased closer until the faint heat of the performance still clinging to his chest met warm skin under the quilt.

His hand slid beneath the quilt, his palm cupping the slight curve of his lover’s ass like it was molded for him; fingertips traced the warm divide, slow, deliberate, learning every soft ridge and hidden dimple while the room stayed hushed except for their quickening breath.

“I love you.”

“Mggh.”

He shifted, his chest pressing the smaller frame into the mattress for a few seconds while his left arm reached for the drawer—full weight over his lover’s body feeling like a warm, heavy blanket. With his fingers slick after a single pump he slid back down, hips fitting behind the small figure, and eased that wet thumb between the tight crease he’d just mapped, slow circles matching the quiet huff of breath against the back of their neck.

“Aaagh.”

“I love you.”

Kisses streamed down the small neck, the tiny face still turned away.

“Let me.”

The soft sigh was answer enough—knees parted just an inch, hips tilting to meet him. He guided himself in one hushed glide, arm curling round the slight torso, palm splayed over chest and belly, fingers barely spanning the width. He moaned slightly in a tiny ear, feeling the warm clench around him.  The small hand reached back to hook his thigh, and a quiet exhale trembled through them both as he started a slow, careful roll.

“Ah, baby.”

Each push came steady under the quilt—hips snapped in a hush, pubic bone kissed the soft skin, coarse pubic hair rasping with every entry. The low swing of his sac tapped a wet rhythm against the cleft, faint smacks muffled by sheets and skin. Heat pooled between them, breath fogging the small space, yet the small figure only pressed back, thighs trembling, welcoming that calibrated drive as pressure mounted like mercury in a sealed tube—slow, relentless, perfect…

Thin, high moans soaked into the pillowcase as the rhythm snapped harder—seven steady inches of his cock punching deep, cut crown flaring then dragging back, a blunt heartbeat hammering inside through both. The small figure felt every ridge of that wide rim catching, stretching, shoving through on the next thrust; balls swung faster, wet slaps echoing under the blanket. His hot breath ghosted the nape, tainted with leftover kerosene and sleep-sweat, the sour edge the lover craved—proof of the nightly grind they shared, silent struggle that ended only when the piston finally faltered and flooded them both.

“Ah, I’m gonna come.”

His hand shot down, fingers closing around a short, rigid shaft—fat for the small frame, foreskin hooding the tip, already slick. One stroke and the little guy bucked, whimpering into the pillow as the first jet spilled over the fire-breather’s palm, warm pulses milked in time with the final thrusts from behind.

“I. Love. You.”

He locked his fingers in the coarse curly hair, yanked the smaller guy’s head back, and drilled, slapping skin loudly under the blanket. The little man snarled through gritting teeth, his post-orgasm shaking him, until the firebreather’s crown swelled, stretching the ring impossibly wide. One last ram, a guttural roar, and he pulsed deep—then kept shoving, riding the aftershocks that juddered his thighs, hand still milking the spent dick beneath, pushing, pushing, until both of them collapsed in a sweaty, trembling heap, breath fogging the dark.

“Fuck.”

“I love you.”

“I hate your job. Ten years of fucking waiting for a hospital call.”

More kisses came down in a tender stream.

---

To get in touch with the author, send them an email.

---

I’m writing this on a small, bolted-down desk inside my cage—knees tucked beneath me, wrists resting on the cool steel surface, the soft weight of my collar a constant against my throat. Outside the bars, late afternoon light slants through the high basement window, catching dust motes in the air. The chain from my collar loops up to a ceiling swivel, giving me just enough room to stretch, kneel, or curl up on the mattress behind me. My chastity belt is locked tight, as always; a plug rests deep inside me, a quiet reminder of my purpose. Somewhere upstairs, I hear Alex moving through the house—making tea, maybe. Soon, Marcus will come down to empty my bucket and check my water. Later, Javier might visit. Or not. It doesn’t matter. I’m ready either way.

I haven’t stepped outside this cage in over three years. I never will again.

This story isn’t fantasy. It’s the truth of how I got here—how a man drowning in freedom found peace in permanence, how years of searching led me to a basement, a lock, and a life I never knew I was made for. I’m telling it not to shock, but to witness. Because if you’ve ever lain awake at night wondering, What if I just stopped choosing?—then you deserve to know: there is a place for you. There is a home in surrender.

This is how I found mine.
May it help you find yours.

---

Before there was Alex, before there was the cage, before there was even the word slave on my lips—I was drowning in freedom.

My name is Eric. For most of my adult life, I was what the world calls “successful.” A senior software engineer at a major tech firm. A man with a 401(k), a mortgage, and a closet full of wrinkle-free shirts. I made six figures. I led teams. I solved problems no one else could. People called me brilliant, reliable, a natural leader.

But inside, I was exhausted.

Not the kind of tired that sleep fixes—this was deeper, a bone-deep weariness from carrying the unbearable weight of choice. Every day, I decided: which design to build, which risks to take, which people to promote or fire. My calendar was a grid of obligations. My mind, a machine that never powered down.

At night, I’d lie in bed, heart racing, replaying meetings and code reviews. I’d stare at the ceiling and think: What if I just… stopped choosing?

It began as a whisper, a strange comfort in imagining that somewhere out there existed a life without decisions. A life governed by someone else’s certainty. At first, I mistook it for burnout. My therapist asked if I felt trapped. I laughed. “No,” I said. “I feel over-responsible.”

But the truth was already forming in the shadows of my thoughts.

---

Late one sleepless night, I opened a blank page on my computer and began to write—not code this time, but confession.

I’d been on every site that promised connection: FetLife, obscure forums, even Craigslist. The profiles were too small, the boxes too shallow. How do you explain that you don’t want a weekend thrill, but a permanent redefinition of self? That you’re not looking for a scene, but a life? That the fantasy ends not when the cuffs come off, but when they can never come off again?

So I built a website.

Not for attention—only for honesty. It was my extended self-portrait, a record of everything I couldn’t say aloud. I wrote about longing, not for play, but for permanence. About how temporary submission left me hollow because part of me was always waiting for it to end.

One page was titled Why Forever.

If you know the lock will open, you are still your own master. But if you know—bone-deep—that the click you hear is the last sound of your old life, then you are truly free. Because freedom isn’t the absence of chains. It’s the absence of choice.

Another was Limits, not as a list, but as a covenant of care:

I give myself completely, but only to someone who understands that ownership is stewardship. My surrender must be met with equal responsibility.

For years, the site sat quietly in the corner of the web—visited, read, and mostly forgotten by strangers. When I met someone who seemed to understand, I’d send them the link. “If this makes sense to you,” I’d say, “then we have something to talk about.”

Most turned away.
A few stayed long enough to ask questions.
None stayed long enough to say yes.

Until Alex.

---

Alex didn’t live alone. His home was a quiet order of devotion. There were three others—Marcus, Javier, and Darius. Each served in their own rhythm: Marcus, a nurse, came by in the mornings; Javier, a graduate student, arrived after classes; Darius, a retired firefighter, visited in the evenings, reading aloud or sharing long silences that filled the space like prayer.

Alex told me the first night: “You are my only full-time one. They come and go. You stay.”

The basement was not a dungeon of cruelty, but a world of intention. The walls were painted a pale gray, the floor sealed and clean. The cage sat at its center like an altar, built with precision: polished steel bars, spaced wide enough for air and touch, close enough for security. The mattress was firm and fitted, the water bowl stainless, the drain discreet. Everything necessary. Nothing more.

From the first day, I wore a belt of steel—a symbol and a promise. Alex alone kept the keys. The ritual was never about denial but about trust, a continual reminder of the exchange that defined us both.

---

Alex called our first year a trial, though it was never an escape clause. “It’s my responsibility,” he said. “If I see this life breaking you, I’ll end it. But from your side, there is no door. You must live as though forever has already begun.”

And so I did.

The days that followed were not monotony, but rhythm. Morning light filtered through the window, soft against the steel. Marcus arrived with quiet efficiency, tending to hygiene and small comforts. “All clear, brother,” he’d say, and I would nod, grateful for the order of it all.

Javier’s visits were bursts of energy and conversation; Darius brought stillness, his voice steady as he read from philosophy books. I listened to the cadence of their lives around me—the shuffle of feet, the clink of tools, the muted laughter that sometimes echoed through the house—and felt, in every sound, the gentle hum of belonging.

Alex’s presence grounded everything. He moved through the basement like gravity, not demanding but absolute. When he placed a hand on my shoulder, or looked through the bars to meet my eyes, the world seemed to fall into alignment.

---

A year passed quietly, until one afternoon Alex came downstairs holding a small bottle of red threadlocker. The air felt charged, like the moment before a storm.

“You’ve been home since the day you arrived,” he said. “Now it’s time to make it permanent.”

He loosened each bolt that held my cage and applied a single drop of liquid to the threads before turning them back into place. The scent of metal and oil filled the air.

“Ten minutes,” he murmured. “Then it’s done.”

I watched the liquid darken and harden, sealing what could no longer be undone.

When he was finished, Alex knelt, pressed his forehead to the bars, and whispered, “Forever.”

I bowed my head and let the tears fall—not of fear, but of completion.

---

Years have passed since that day. The world above continues: Alex tends his garden, walks the dog, greets neighbors who have no idea what peace lives beneath their feet. Marcus still visits each morning; Javier still brings the pulse of youth; Darius still reads on Sundays.

And I remain here—anchored, unchanging, whole.

Sometimes, when the light slants just right, I think of the man I once was: the one who built systems and solved problems and never stopped choosing. I want to tell him that he wasn’t wrong to seek freedom—he was only looking in the wrong direction.

On the wall opposite my desk hangs a framed line from the essays I once wrote:

When you know you’ll never be unlocked, the mind stops waiting for the door to open—and finally rests.

I no longer need to read it. I live it.

I am locked.
I am owned.
I am free.

And in this quiet hum of steel and devotion, I have found the peace I once chased through endless choices—
not in escape, but in surrender.
Not in freedom, but in belonging.

Forever.

For awhile Cody was able to keep himself distracted from his intense sexual urges by focusing on his physical training and academics. NCAA rules limited the type of training he could do during his 8 week session.

Weight training, running and other aerobics were his primary physical activities.

Since he was gifted, he managed to breeze through his summer term academics with ease.

Despite doing everything he could to distract himself, he increasingly desperate to satisfy his seemingly perverse sexual desires and needs.

Simple jacking off was just not doing it for him. Though he had discovered some possibilities for gay hook-ups on campus, he was reluctant to pursue any for fear of being outed. If that happened, he was certain his chances of becoming the starting quarterback as a freshman would be squashed and he would have trouble even remaining on the team.

And so, once again, he turned to the Internet with a determination to solve his problem. This was after all southern California, and though not San Francisco, there had to be some opportunities to find the type of action he was looking for.

In a desperate attempt to improve his chances of finding an acceptable hook-up, Cody took several more selfies. He was careful not to show his face but everything else was there, including a full frontal nude, and closeups of his cock and balls and butt. He included the photos with a write-up that said he was an 18 year old jock who was new to the scene and was seeking a experienced Dom to take control of him and subject him to humiliation, torture, bondage and other BDSM.

Needless to say, he did get quite a few responses. At first he was encouraged that he would be able to find a viable offer and focused on sorting them as fast as he could.

It was relatively easy to eliminate ones that were too far away, too local, too hokey and just plane weird. He began to lose hope once again as more were eliminated after some email, or message exchanges.

He had been hoping that he’d be able to find at least one that could work out before the mid-summer break, which was coming in just a few days.

Frustrated, he was about to log off his computer as a new email popped up. When he opened it, he was immediately intrigued. Unlike all the other responses, this one was rather brief, to the point and included a link.

“ARE YOU READY TO SUBMIT?” was the basic email subject and header.

What followed was a simple explanation of what would be expected of a guy who desired and was willing to submit to BDSM sexual slavery, on a short or long term basis. It noted that the location was in southern California.

The “Link” that was included took Cody to what amounted to an application page where he was asked to enter an email address, alias (or real first name), age, fitness level, sexual orientation, and location. It also noted that uploading a current naked photo (with or without face), would speed up a response.

Finally it spelled out the minimum requirements as being: Male, 18+ Years Old, Relatively Physically Fit (be able to run a mile), and in good health. It concluded by noting that participants would not receive any permanent marks or be required to do anything illegal or would endanger their health.

Beneath the final comments was the phrase: “Fortune Favors The Bold”.

As desperate as he was to make something happen, went ahead and filled out the form and submitted it along with one of his faceless naked selfies. The one he included showed him fully erect and clearly depicted his pair of low hanging balls.

With that accomplished, he decided that rather than wait around for a possible response, he decided to distract himself by going for a long run.

While he ran, Cody continued to formulate a plan of action for the rest of the summer and the future in general. To start with, he once more asked himself if he was gay. Based on his desires and repeating fantasies he was certain of that. As of yet, he did not have any practical experience with that, and was, for all practical purposes, a gay virgin.

But, hooking up with just any guy was really not gonna do it for him. He wanted and needed to be sexually humiliated, tortured and completely controlled by others. Okay, he accepted the fact that he was a masochist, but so what.

Knowing that his best friend and future roommate who be arriving in a few weeks he wanted ensure that he had the real experiences before then. In his mind, it was something that he needed to do before Trevor arrived since another part of his plan was going to be telling Trevor he was gay.

He didn’t know which part of his plan scared him the most. He couldn’t fathom losing his best friend and if he did freak out, it would definitely make the coming year very difficult for both.

He laughed as he remembered the quote from the website… “Fortune Favors The Bold.”

And what he was planning to do was definitely bold, or at least crazy. Neither of which seemed to phase him.

After returning from his run, Cody decided to take a long hot shower. His mind was now clear and he was getting very excited about what he hoped would be happening soon. Somehow, he managed to avoid relieving himself while showering. All the thinking had given him a painful hard-on, which he wanted to maintain while he checked his email.

He dried himself off quickly, but remained naked while he got himself a couple sodas from the fridge and sat down at his computer.

Before he opened his email program, he considered the possibility that there would be no response yet. If that was the case, he just might decide to edge himself until he received a response.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to make that decision. His cock throbbed as he saw that he had received a response and he immediately began stroking himself as he clicked on the email.

Once he saw the contents, he breathed a big sigh of relief.

He was thanked for his response and told he would be invited to visit their location. To get things started, Cody was invited to click on a link to a Webcam Site where he could talk directly with someone there. There were several times listed when he could connect and was also told that he could blank his camera if he wanted to.

According to the schedule, he still had time to connect today. So he clicked on the link and was connect to a welcome page that asked for him to enter his name (or an alias), location, and age. With that accomplished, he would be able to connect to the Webcam site. He was also told to blank his camera if he didn’t want to be seen.

Cody followed the instructions. For lack of a better alias, he entered “Rico”, blanked his camera and clicked “SUBMIT.”

His screen dissolved into what appeared to be western themed room. Sitting in a chair, smiling at the camera was a shirtless young guy. He had blond hair, blue eyes and rosy cheeks. Though he seemed quite young, Cody figured he was probably college age and judging by his defined chest and biceps, was probably a jock.

After a moment of apparently reading the screen, he looked up, broadened his smile and said, “Hello there Rico. Welcome to the Ranch. My name is Jared, and I’ll your host today. Since your camera is blanked, which is fine by the way, I’ll just ask is the photo you submitted a recent one?”

Cody stammered, “Uh… yea. Just took it this week.”

Jared smiled some more and continued, “That’s great. I had to ask since there are some guys who might try to use an old photo. It ends up being a waste of time.”

“Yea, I get that, uh… like guys on a bunch of those hook-up and dating sites,” Cody offered.

Jared then took a deep breath, got a serious look on his face and said, “So anyway Rico, I know you’re not here for some idle chatter, so I’ll start things off by explaining some things right off. And so you know, everything you and I say is confidential. While we’re recording this conversation, it’s only so the boss can confirm everything we talk about.”

“Obviously you are interested in and curious about what happens here. Also, you are definitely close enough to be able to visit. We call this place “The Ranch”, because that what it is. Those of us who live and work here are committed to a lifestyle or experience you have expressed an interest in.

“While operating and maintaining this place we engage in a variety of BDSM activities. It’s more than just an occasional thing, it’s ongoing.

“There are some guys who come to visit to experience what it’s like to submit totally and voluntarily to be used by other guys. Of course I’m talking about humiliation, bondage, sexual and physical torture and so on. While you don’t have to be gay to take part, it will most likely be more fulfilling if you are.

“In my case, I was like a lot of guys. I was a real jock and fancied myself as a real stud for girls. Long story short though, I dabbled with the chicks, but I sensed there was something more for me. I actually found that I was turned on like never before by submitting to guys to put me through the things I just mentioned.

“So now I’m a complete and total sub, or slave if you will and I am absolutely happy with it.”

At that point, the conversation got down to specifics. Cody (aka Rico) convinced Jared that he really wanted to do whatever it took to submit himself. He agreed to sign a contract that spelled out what both parties committed to. The usual stipulations included (among other things):

• No permanent marks or intentional scars
• Nothing that would clearly cause problems with law enforcement
• No “shit play”, ie. scat
• Nothing that would interfere with his college courses or athletic commitments
• No activities that would endanger his health

Aside from those things, he would have to agree to follow all orders given to him without question. It was also understood that these conditions were not just for his time at the ranch, but also for his life at college.

As their chat continued, Cody found himself becoming more aroused than he had ever been before. He still didn’t understand why he was so completely turned on by thoughts of being humiliated and tortured, but had concluded it just didn’t matter. He wanted it and needed it.

“Well, now that we have all that out of the way, I suppose you want to know what next?” Jared asked.

“Yea. Starting tomorrow, I have a full week with nothing scheduled. It’s our mid-summer break. So I’m available the whole time.” Cody offered.

At that point, it was determined that Cody would take the train to the ranch and follow whatever orders were given. Jared wasted no time setting things up. Cody was so excited that he committed to staying at the ranch for the entire week.

“Okay, since that is settled, the first thing you need to do is turn your WebCam on and say hello,” Jared smiled.

Cody thought, “Well, as the saying goes, in for a penny, in for a pound!”

Needless to say, his heart started beating a lot faster as he prepared to turn the camera on. Not to be outdone, since he was sitting there naked, his hardened cock started throbbing.

He clicked the camera on and smiled at the screen.

Jared, smiled back, and then his eyes grew wide, “Holy Shit! I’ll be damned if you look just like him. I mean really!”

Cody chuckled, “Guess you’ve seen “Starship Troopers” huh?”

“You look just like Rico!”

Another laugh from Cody, “Yea, I get that a lot. It started back in high school, and has stuck with me. Guess I might as well tell you my real first name since you’ll find out soon enough. It’s Cody.”

“Okay, well Cody, let me introduce you to someone else,” Jared said.

He gestured off screen and after a moment a young guy entered the frame.

“This is Chip. He lives here at the ranch. You will definitely meet him when you get here.”

Cody smiled and nodded at the new face on the screen. He seemed a little younger than Jared but had a certain intense commanding look. Like Jared he was obviously a jock.

The guy stared at him for a moment then his mouth dropped open as he glanced quickly at Jared, “Damn! You know you look just like the actor in “Starship Troopers”, Rico right?”

Cody rolled his eyes as Jared chuckled, “Yea! He gets that a lot! People call him that, but his real name is Cody.”

Chip continued staring for a few more moments then got serious.

“Well then, if your camera is on I guess you have decided to spend some time with us!”

Chip’s commanding demeanor triggered something in Cody who immediately responded with a definitive, “YES SIR!”

“Well that’s great. I’ll let Jared here finish up with you. See you soon!”

Jared watched Chip leave and offered his own, “Thank you sir.”

“Okay then Cody, you’ve got the train’s departure time, so go ahead and get your ticket. Once you have it, email me and I’ll send you your final detailed instructions. It’s absolutely important that you follow those instructions carefully and completely. We call it the ‘Leap of Faith’. Should you fail to follow any part of it exactly, we’ll consider the matter closed and you will never hear from us again. Understood?”

Cody nodded and said, “Don’t worry Sir I’ll do whatever they say.”

Jared returned the nod and added, “And one last thing. Once you arrive, you won’t need to call me Sir since we’re going to be on the same level. Good luck and hope to see you in two days.”

With that, the connection was broken.

Cody sat thinking for several minutes. He had to admit, the instructions had an ominous feel to them and he was certain there had to be something challenging about them, even scary. Regardless, he was committed and found the railroad’s reservation website quickly. Buy his ticket was easier than he thought it would be. He didn’t even have to go to the train station for it since it was an E-ticket and he would only need to present a photo Id once he got to the station.

Once he received his confirmation number, he sent an email off to Jared, informing him of that. Then he waited.

He was happy that he did have a couple of class assignments to keep him occupied for the next two days. He lived close enough to the train station that getting there wouldn’t be a problem or require setting up transportation.

And so he waited.

He surfed the web briefly before he decided to make him self some coffee. He had slipped on a pair of loose running shorts and was relieved as he realized, he would not be tenting them. As the last drops of coffee, fell into the cup, he heard the familiar chime that indicated he had just received an email.

Grabbing his cup, he rushed to his computer and clicked on his email app. As soon as he noticed the subject of the email, he quivered with excitement. The subject said simply Leap of Faith. He got more excited as he began reading his instructions (or more appropriately, his orders).

LEAP OF FAITH

After reading these instructions you will put on a T-shirt, a pair of shorts, shoes and socks and go to 1053 Lake Street. You may know the place since it is a bar that students know doesn’t check ID’s.

At the bar, ask for a man named Pete. He will probably be behind the bar since he is one of the bartenders. Give him your name and then follow his instructions.

As soon as he is finished with you, return to your place and continue doing what you do until Friday. Your train leaves at 8:00 am. DO NOT MISS IT.

Be absolutely sure to tell the conductor that you have to get off at Forest Station. It is designated as a whistle stop and the train will only stop when there is someone on board going there.

You will probably be the only person getting off there. If by chance, someone else does, wait until they leave and then proceed to the open air shelter. It is like the typical shelters found at bus stops.

There will be a small backpack under the bench. Inside you will find further instructions.

And that was it.

The instructions were simpler than he had expected. Still there was enough mystery there to get him excited.

He dressed as fast as he could and headed off to the bar.

IN THE BAR

The inside of the bar was pretty much Cody expected it to be. Dimly lit with a long bar with bar stools stretching the length of one side of the room. Small round tables with chairs scattered around, an old juke box playing some hokey old rock tune and towards the back a couple of covered pool tables neither of which was being used at the moment.

Since it was still fairly early in the afternoon there were only a few customers sitting at the bar. Middle aged guys dressed like construction workers. No seemed to pay him much attention as he walked up to the end of the bar and gestured to the bartender.

The guy was probably an older college student, perhaps a grad student. Judging by his build, Cody clocked him as a jock, possibly a gymnast or wrestler. His bored expression confirmed what kind of day he was having as he reached the end of the bar, looked Cody up and down and asked flatly, “So what will you have there sport? Beer?”

Cody shook his head and stammered, “Ummmm… I was looking for Pete, is that you?”

The guy replied smartly, “I could be. What do you want with him.”

His response wasn’t exactly what Cody expected, so he added, “Ummm, my name is Cody and he’s probably expecting me.”

With that the guy cracked a smile and said, “Yea okay, I’m Pete and you’re right I was expecting you.”

He set his hand towel on the bar, looked at the guys on the stools and said, “Hey guys, keep an eye on things for me. I’m gonna be taking care of some stuff in the back for awhile. You know the drill, just keep your mitts off the top shelf stuff.”

“Yea, yea! We know!” they grumbled.

Pete then looked at Cody and said, “Okay follow me.”

Cody trotted along behind Pete as he led him across the room and through a door to the back. He then led him down a set of stone stairs into what was obviously the bar’s main storage area. They walked past some stacks of liquor cases and came to a large wooden door. It reminded Cody of something you would see in a horror movie basement.

Pete opened the door and led Cody inside. To his surprise isn’t was fairly empty and rather non-descript. Old wooden and steel file cabinets lined one wall along with a large storage cabinet. In the back corner he could see a door that opened into a bathroom. There were a couple of desks with desktop computers that were relatively new. To his surprise, a large flat screen TV hung on a wall. About the only weird thing there was a rather large sturdy high back wooden chair bolted to the floor in the center of the room facing the TV.

Without saying a word, Pete went to one of the computers, typed something on the keyboard, and after a moment reached up and adjusted something on the top of the monitor. It was obviously a WebCam that was aimed at the chair in the center of the room.

Pete left Cody standing near the door as he continued working at the computer. Eventually he looked up and said, “Okay Sport, close the door and bolt it, then come over here.”

Cody hurried to obey. As he approached the desk, Pete gestured to a small chair beside it and told him to have a seat.

After he sat down Pete asked him, “Okay, so what were your instructions?”

“Just that I was to come here ask for you and then following your instructions exactly and without complaint.”

“Very good,” Pete declared. “So with that in mind we’ll get started. And you can start by taking off all your clothes and putting them in that storage cabinet. Then sit in that large chair in the center of the room.”

Cody tremble with excitement as he stripped naked and then sat in the chair. At last he was having a real life encounter. Needless to say, his cock got the message and continued it’s rise to a full bone.

As soon as Cody was seated, Pete approached and fastened a leather collar around his neck. It was pretty much a standard slave collar with four metal rings and a small padlock securing it. With the collar in place, Pete showed Cody the key.

“Okay Boy! There are two keys to this collar. This one and one at the ranch. Which of course means that those are the only two places where the collar can be removed.”

With the collar in place, Pete proceeded to secure Cody’s wrists, ankles and knees to the chair. He smiled as he watched Cody’s boned cock begin to leak a fair amount of pre-cum.

“Looks like you are enjoying this. You’re gonna remain here for awhile as I go back upstairs to check on things. But don’t worry, you won’t get bored. I’ve arranged some entertainment for you boy!”

Just before Pete left the room, he switched on the wide screen TV and laughed, “Okay, enjoy!”

Cody’s eyes widened as soon as he saw what was on the screen. It was a gay BDSM video which featured a guy about his age. What made it all the more intense was the fact that in the upper right hand corner, there was a picture within the picture that was focused on him sitting in the chair.

Cody had no doubt that the video had been chosen with him in mind. Typical of most porn, right from the start he could tell that the actors weren’t very good and the plot rather contrived, but that didn’t matter since they were all hot looking college aged jocks.

It only took a few minutes for he felt another surge in his bone. In the video, a meeting was taking place between the two opposing quarterbacks in a stadium tunnel, just before a game. There was a bunch of cheesy trash talk which ended when the two jocks made a simple bet. The losing quarterback would have be a sex slave for an hour to the members of the winning team in their locker room, immediately after the game.

Following a bunch of stock footage cuts that were supposed to depict a tough football game, not surprisingly, the quarterback who looked a lot like Cody lost the game.

The quarterback named Mark, dressed in a pair of shorts and t-shirt entered the other team’s locker room and was immediately ordered to strip. As soon as he was naked, his hands were tied behind his back and he was forced to his knees.

At that point, the other quarterback stepped in front of him. He had stripped down to just his jock and waited expectantly. Mark looked up at the guy standing in front of him. His near naked body glistened with sweat and his jock strap was soaked in it. With his hands tied behind his back, he could only stare at it. That is until the guy pulled his face into the pouch and demanded, “Okay slave boy, go ahead and duck on my pouch. Get a good taste, then use you teeth to pull it all the way down.”

Mark pulled some of the pungent smelly pouch into his mouth and began ducking on it. As expected it has a salty dank taste. After a couple minutes he started working at pulling the jock down. It wasn’t easy. He got slapped in the face and few times when he pinched the guy’s balls with his teeth.

Eventually he was able start working it down the guy’s hairy thighs inch by inch until it thankfully dropped to his ankles.

With that accomplished he began his main task.

Buried in a thick patch of sweaty black pubes was one of the thickest cocks he had ever seen. As he started to run his tongue along the placid beast, it began rising fast. In no time it was fully engorging. As long as the fat thing was, maybe 9 inches, it couldn’t stand on It’s own and ending up flopping inside Mark’s mouth.

As soon as it did, he began sucking away. As he did, the guy laughed and teased, “So what do you think of big John? Do you like his taste? I know chick’s just love it.”

With eyes as wide as saucers, Cody watched the nasty scene play out. It was so intense that he could almost taste the cock himself and smell the sweaty musk. The fact was, he actually could smell it, since he was generating a fair amount of sweat in his pits and groin, along with more and more pre-cum from his painfully engorged shaft.

In no time, the guy on the screen began moaning and pumping his groin back and forth. Cody desperately did his best to mimic his actions. However, secured as he was in the chair he only succeeded in increasing his frustration.

When the guy finally began shooting his giant load into Mark’s mouth and all over his face and chest, Cody cried out, “Oh God” as he felt an intense pain under his aching balls. As hard as he tried to will his man organs to handle things on their own, they just couldn’t do it without some form of direct stimulation.

Unfortunately for Cody, his trial was just beginning. The video continued playing for a full hour. Though he tried to alleviate the stimulation by closing his eyes, he couldn’t resist watching more and more of the hapless teen’s torture.

There were more jocks and cocks to suck and eventually sweaty pungent holes to suck. Worse was the fact that every time the victim became fully erect himself, they slapped and whipped his balls and penis until he softened.

As the end of the hour neared, they finished by whipping his butt with a leather belt until it was bright red. The number of whacks delivered equaled the total points scored in the game which was 57.

As soon as the scene ended, the corner picture of Cody in the chair filled the screen and Cody couldn’t stop staring at it.

His naked form was covered in sweat and his painfully hard cock continued sticking straight up. He could smell his own sweat and musk which seemed to add to his aroused condition. And, as he stretched to look down at his aching testicle he was certain they were actually blue and would explode at any moment.

AT THE RANCH

About an hour’s drive away, Chip, couple of ranch hands and Jared stared at the big screen in the bunkhouse lounge. All of them had pulled the front of their shorts down and were stroking their solid bones. That is with the exception of Jared who was sitting there naked with his own member locked firmly in it’s spiked cage.

“Well I’m thinking that working this guy is going to be a lot of fun,” Chip chuckled.

Jared smiled and added, “Yea, he really is a hot dude. Of course he’s still going to have to complete the most important part of the Leap of Faith. If he does, then he’ll definitely be committed.”

Chip nodded and laughed, “And once he is, then I’ll let him know that I know who he is. I recognized him from his picture in the university paper. Yep, he is our new freshman quarterback, and quite good from what I read. We’ll have to be careful that we don’t inadvertently ‘out’ him since that could be problematic for him.”

[AUTHOR’S NOTE: The ranch referred to is featured in my series “Straight Sub Hunters” which is currently running on the Nifty story site.] https://new.nifty.org/stories/straight-sub-hunters-89086

IN THE BAR

As Cody waited in the basement, Pete was busy upstairs talking with the three guys sitting at the bar. They were of course, regulars and always eager co-conspirators on occasions like this one.

They had seen Cody earlier and had a good idea of what lay ahead for the hot college freshman jock.

“Well Pete, I must say your guys have really picked a good one! I guess we can assume the kid will be more than ready when he comes back upstairs,” one of them chuckled.

“No doubt about it. He was already all boned up when I started the video so I’m sure he’ll be ready for some nasty fun. Just remember guys, don’t say anything to indicate who he is. Just do what I told you to do and then follow my lead,” Pete said.

Obviously the three guys enjoyed taking part. One could say that time had might been all that good to the three upper middle-aged men when it came to looks. Opportunities like this one to use a hot young guy were rare. At least without paying for it. Even better was the fact that Pete encouraged their participation by giving them drinks from his ‘top shelf’ bottles.”

At last, Cody was able to breath a sigh of relief as he heard footsteps on the stairs.

Bound as he was in the chair, he had not been able to touch himself where he desperately needed to. And try as he might, he could not trigger his balls to release no matter how intense his erotica thoughts became. In fact, all he managed to do was generate more pre-cum which pooled on the front of the chair.

When Pete saw Cody’s little pool, he immediately ran his finger tips through it then wiped them inside Cody’s nostrils. He swiped up some more and had the desperate teen lick it from his fingers.

“I’m guessing you’d like some relief boy. So how about it, do you want to cum?” Pete teased.

“Oh God, yes sir! Please I’ll do anything!” Cody gasped.

“Yea, I know you will boy… and you will do anything.”

To Cody’s chagrin, Pete didn’t reach for his throbbing cock. Instead, all he did was release him from his bonds and order him to follow him upstairs.

As Cody climbed the stairs, and in spite of the pain in his bouncing aching balls, he felt an incredible thrill about whatever would happen next.

Clearly a great deal of that thrill came from the extreme sense of humiliation he was experiencing which seemed to confirm he was on the right track.

In spite of his thoughts of confirmation, he still tingled with a feeling of embarrassment as Pete led him across the room to the bar. The three men sitting there nursing drinks all turned their heads and gave him a good look. The fact that he was the only one in the room who was naked was definitely embarrassing.

When they reached the bar, Pete told him to stand facing the three guys, with his hands behind his head and do what they said. With that said, he turned and hurried back across the room where three young guys were standing beside the pool tables waiting. Judging by the way Pete waved at them it seemed that they too were regulars, which was further confirmed by the fact that seeing a naked young man standing as he was by the bar wasn’t surprising.

After a brief conversation, Pete went back to the bar, filled a pitcher with beer and returned to the three guys who had just uncovered one of the pool tables.

Apparently one of the guys at the bar decided to add to Cody’s humiliation by saying, “Looks like your audience just doubled kid. Guess we’re gonna have to end up sharing you when we’re done.”

His words seemed a little ominous to Cody as he waited nervously. As he did, one of the guys retrieved three shot glasses from behind the bar and placed them beside their drinks. Meanwhile, one of the others stood up and began running his hands over Cody’s muscular chest and stomach.

“You sure have a nice body kid,” he chuckled as he massaged Cody’s biceps, pecs and abs.

Noting that Cody was starting to shake Pete quickly said, “Yo guys, you better get to it before he goes off too soon.”

With that the third guy nodded, picked up one of the empty shot glasses and stepped in front of Cody. “Okay boy, here’s the plan. We’ve got these three shot glasses here and we’re gonna help you fill them. Once you do, there will be some more fun and games for you. Understood?”

Cody didn’t quite understand, but figured he had the gist of it so he said, “Yes Sir.”

With that, the guy grinned, wrapped his hand around Cody’s dripping upright shaft and began stroking. As he did, he held the glass near the cockhead and said, “Okay, you get it! You feel it starting, you shout out so I don’t miss it.”

The strokes were firm and slow. Each time he reached Cody’s hard cockhead, he squeezed the tip really hard before moving back down the shaft. Cody’s face reddened quickly, along with his cockhead and he started breathing fast and hard.

After that full hour of stimulation bound in the chair, it didn’t stake long before the inevitable happened.

Fortunately, the guy felt the powerful throb at the base of Cody’s shaft, forced it down and aimed it into the shot glass just before Cody screamed, “OH GOD! I’M CUMMING!”

All eyes were on the gyrating naked teen as blast after blast of the pent up cream shot into the glass. There was so much of it, that the glass quickly overflowed and cascaded down the guys hand and onto the floor.

Cody continued pumping and thrusting for a long time as everyone cheered him on. When at last his balls were drained, he got hold of himself and just stood where he was, drenched in sweat and panting like crazy.

He was certain that he had never experienced an orgasm as intense as that one was, and never one that was brought on by a hand other than his own. As satisfied and relieved as he was, his anticipatory excitement returned quickly as he looked at the other two empty shot glasses.

After a few more moments, the guy placed the full glass on the bar beside the others then held his cum coated hand up to Cody’s lips and told him to clean it as well as the splashes on the floor.

Cody’s heart beat faster and faster as he followed his instructions and licked up all his thick seed. To add to his humiliation and challenge, the guy had insisted that as he licked it off the floor he was to keep his hands behind his back. The result was that as he ran his tongue across the sticky floor, his nose, forehead, eyebrows and chin dragged through the stuff.

When he finished, Cody was directed to head over to the pool tables with one of the empty shot glasses. Once there, he was told to stand once more with his hands behind his head. Once he was sure he could cum again, and fill another glass, he was to ask one of the guys there to do the deed.

And so there he stood, watching the pool game and waiting for his powerful hormones to start doing their thing. Fortunately, the guys got into the act almost immediately, by stopping play to fondle Cody’s balls, slap his cock or give his creamy white muscular butt a hard whack.

It didn’t take long for Cody’s impressive manhood to react. As it rose to it’s full erect length of 7 plus inches the guys took quick notice and started jabbering about it.

“Dudes, check it out! He’s got a minor monster there now that we can see it up close. And it’s sticking up like a teenager’s!”

One of the others retorted, “Well Dude, he is a teenager!” He glanced at Cody for confirmation, “Freshman? Right?”

Cody stammered, “Uhh…Yes Sir! 18.”

“Well then hey, if you haven’t decided on a fraternity yet, check us out. We’ve got the most jocks on campus. Think about it.”

Cody just nodded. He wasn’t sure joining a frat would be such a good idea, seeing as what he already had going.

The situation Cody found himself in was another new one for him. Though he had read about what was called the refractory period which was how long it would take for someone his age to be able to ejaculate again. Depending on health, fitness, and the hormones themselves it could be anywhere from a few to 15 or so minutes. In this case though, volume was going to be more of an issue since he had two more shot glasses to fill.

As the pool game continued, along with the periodic instances of fondling and other stimulations it wasn’t long before Cody began to feel some tension relief in his balls. The type of relief seemed to follow after they had been drained.

Before he knew it a good half hour had passed and he was beginning to think that he milk have produced enough new cream for another glass full. It occurred to him that the sheer embarrassment and humiliation of being naked and forced to stand on display with a major erection just might be spurring those hormones on.

His theory seemed to be confirmed a few minutes later when two new guys entered the bar and he felt a strong surge of energy in his body and in particular his now throbbing balls. He prayed that the newcomers would not be enlisted into the ‘shot glass’ challenge as he looked at one of the pool players and pleaded, “Uh… sir? I think I’m ready. Could you please do me?”

Playing the devil’s advocate the guy gave him a confused look and asked dumbly, “Do you what?”

Cody tried to get by quietly repeating the requested but was cut off when the guy said, “What did you say? I couldn’t really hear you. What do you want?” After a couple more useless attempts, Cody was forced to raise his voice and half shout, “Will you please jack me off sir!”

With that, the two new customers turned their heads, gave the naked teen a closer look and laughed.

It didn’t take all that long for the frat boy’s stroking and teasing to produce the desired result. Cody’s ‘second cumming’ was not as animated or as productive as the first, but he managed to shoot just enough of his white stuff to fill the second glass, which was a immediately placed on the bar next to the first.

Sadly for Cody, what followed was a half hour of feeling, fondling, teasing and some spanking before he was able to make his third attempt. And double sadly, he was only able to fill half the third glass. After that, the frat boys decided enough was enough and began tag teaming Cody for another 15 minutes.

They simultaneously fondled, stroked, pinched nipples and finger fucked him. Ultimately it was a quick rubbing of his prostrate that helped him fill the third glass.

Once the glasses were full, Cody was marched over to the bar and ordered to drink the three glasses. Everyone around him cheered him on as he poured each glass into his mouth. He had tasted a little of his own pre-cum and cum before but was now getting a full taste of the salty sweet slime.

His hopes that this portion of his ordeal was over were quickly dashed, when the frat boys, led by Pete, grabbed him and marched him across the bar and out into the alley behind the bar. As soon as they got there, the hapless naked jock was once again forced to his knees, and ordered to close his eyes and open his mouth.

THE ALLEY BEHIND THE BAR

Once his eyes were closed and his mouth open, he heard the rustling sound of clothing being adjusted, followed by the unmistakable sounds of furious masturbating. It didn’t take long for streams of sticky white cream to begin splattering on his face, in his mouth and all over his body.

As soon as they finished, they headed back inside, leaving the cum coated Cody kneeling beside Pete.

After a moment, Pete rubbed some of the cum into his hair and said, “Okay cum boy. I’m going to give you your final orders. Before I do, I’ll need you to stand up with your hands behind your head. Once he did, Cody felt Pete’s hands manipulating his cock and balls. In just a minute, he figured out what was going on as he heard a loud snap followed by a series of clicks.

He didn’t need to look down to confirm things, but he did anyway. Not surprisingly he saw that his cock and balls were secured inside a metal cage. The fit was snug and he knew immediately that there would be no way in hell that he would be able to get erection, let alone jack off.

With the device in place, Pete showed Cody the key to it’s lock. “Okay smart boy. Just like your collar, there are only two keys to this chastity cage. I’ve got one and the other is at the ranch. The next time it’s removed will be at the ranch.”

Cody cringed a little, but then thought, “Okay, two days until then. Not too bad.”

Pete then continued. “Now, do you remember the rest of your ‘Leap of Faith’ orders?”

Cody nodded and said, “Yes sir. The day after tomorrow I take the 8:00 train heading north and tell the conductor where I’m getting off. When I get there, I sit in station shelter and follow the instructions that will be in a bag under the bench.”

Pete nodded and said, “Very good. Now that’s all for today. You can go back to your dorm apartment now.”

To Cody’s surprise, Pete started to turn to leave.

“Uh.. Sir… uh what about my clothes and my key card for the doors?”

Pete laughed and added, “Oh don’t worry we’ll keep them safe for you. Oh yea, and one last thing. Don’t bother trying to wipe off any of that cum. In fact, don’t bother showering until Friday morning before you leave for the train station. You’re to be naked in your place until then as well. Ahh, yes, and the boss at the ranch says to wear a t-shirt, running shorts, shoes and socks for the trip, Take nothing else, period! Understood?”

Cody trembled as he stuttered, “Yes Sir.”

His trembling got worse as he watched Pete leave.

There he was, completely naked, covered in drying cum, with a cage around his cock and balls. His dorm was about a mile away and it was still light outside. It would be a minor miracle if got there without being spotted.

And then there was the matter of how to get inside without his key card. Somehow he’d have to find someone to let him in the outside door and then his apartment which meant someone with a master key.

He quickly concluded that his situation would not improve any by delaying, so he got to his feet, moved stealthily to the end of the alley and peeked around the corner.

TO BE CONTINUED

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Hot steam still hung in the bathroom as I dried my hair with a towel.

Drops of water ran down my chest and stomach to my hips, where the towel was wrapped tightly, barely staying in place.

Suddenly, there was a loud, violent knock on the door.

I froze.

I wasn’t expecting anyone at this hour.

My heart beat faster as I moved toward the door, still dripping wet, wearing only a towel.

I opened the door… and there stood Mike.

His hair was tousled, his cheeks flushed with emotion, his breathing heavy and rapid.

For a second, his gaze slid over my naked body, my chest, my stomach, the droplets of water running down, before he quickly looked away, as if caught red-handed.

“Mike?” I asked, feeling a knot of anxiety in my stomach. “What happened?”

He didn’t answer.

He strode inside, passing me as if he couldn’t stand still.

The door slammed behind us, and his tension filled the room, weighing me down with a heaviness I didn’t yet understand.

I stood there in my towel, wet, looking at him in silence.

I knew one thing: whatever had happened was bigger than a simple argument.

Mike sat down heavily on the couch, as if he had suddenly lost all his strength.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and ran his trembling hands through his hair.

He was silent for a moment, breathing heavily, and I stood there in my towel, unsure if I should say anything.

“Mike…” I whispered cautiously. “Say something.”

He looked up at me and finally the words burst out of him chaotically, as if he had been holding them in for too long.

“She made dinner,” he said, his voice a mixture of frustration and shame. “Wine, candles… everything was perfect.”

His breathing quickened with each sentence.

“She tried to kiss me, touch me… and I felt like I was somewhere else.” He shook his head, clenching his fingers even tighter in his hair. “Like… it wasn’t my life.”

I stood paralyzed, my heart pounding in my chest, not interrupting him.

“I told her I was tired,” he added bitterly. “She probably thinks I rejected her.”

Sparks of anger appeared in his eyes, but also fear.

He raised his head, his voice trembling as he spoke the next words:

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Matt…”

“But I couldn’t stay there.” He took a deep, ragged breath. “I had to… come here.”

Then he fell silent, avoiding my gaze, as if afraid of the truth he had just spoken, which I had sensed long ago.

I took a slow step toward him. My wet hair stuck to the back of my neck, and drops of water ran down my chest and stomach. Mike looked away, as if avoiding eye contact, but I could see his jaw tighten.

“Maybe…” I whispered, calmly, almost softly, “it’s because you can be yourself here.”

He blinked as if he didn’t understand.

“With her, you play a role,” I added, standing right in front of him, so close that I could feel his rapid breathing on my skin. “But with me… you don’t have to.”

His shoulders twitched, but he remained silent.

The silence was thick as smoke, saturated with emotions neither of us could name.

I slowly ran my hand over his chest, through the thin fabric of his shirt, down, lower and lower, until I stopped at his belt.

Mike gasped sharply, as if my touch were an electric shock to him.

“Matt…” he whispered hoarsely, sounding more like a plea than a warning. “I… I don’t know if this is right. I don’t want to… screw this up.”

I could feel his body reacting against his words under my fingertips.

His pants were tight where his hardening cock was clearly pressing against the fabric.

It was no accident.

I leaned in closer, so that our foreheads were almost touching.

“You don’t have to say anything,” I whispered provocatively. “Your cock is speaking for you right now.”

Mike closed his eyes, letting out a low, broken sound that could have been either despair or desire.

I could see him struggling with himself.

This was his limit.

I straightened up slowly, confidently, without taking my eyes off his face.

I reached into the drawer of the table next to us and took out a condom, then placed it in his hand.

“We won’t screw this up,” I said firmly, my voice confident. “It might even make us stronger.”

His fingers clenched around the wrapper as if it were an anchor in the chaos he was feeling.

He looked at me with something that was both fear and desperation.

“You don’t have to say anything,” I repeated quietly, almost like an order. “Just show me what you really want.”

That broke his resistance.

Mike stood up abruptly, grabbing me by the neck and kissing me as if he wanted to swallow me whole.

His shirt slipped off his shoulders in a rush, and I unbuttoned his pants, feeling him tremble with tension.

My towel fell to the floor as his hands cupped my ass, squeezing it tightly, as if he was finally allowing himself what he wanted.

Our kisses became passionate, desperate, hungry.

Mike pushed me onto the bed, I fell onto my stomach, giving myself completely to the moment, and he stood over me, naked, his eyes burning with a fire that left no room for doubt.

Mike knelt over me, naked, his body tense as a string.

I heard the rustle of the packaging as he opened the condom, and then a quiet sigh as he put it on.

His breathing was heavy and hurried, as if he was afraid that if he stopped, he would lose his courage.

I felt his hands on my hips, strong and decisive.

Slowly, carefully, he slid into me, and my body tensed violently.

I let out a low, broken moan, clenching my fingers on the sheet.

Mike leaned so close that I could feel his hot breath on my neck.

“I needed this…” he whispered hoarsely.

I smiled through my moans, unable to respond with words.

It wasn’t just his words, I could feel them in his every movement, in the desperation of his touch.

He began to move slowly, deeply, as if he wanted to remember every second of this moment.

With each thrust, his breathing became heavier and my body grew hotter.

Soon his movements were faster, filled with all the emotions he had been bottling up: frustration, jealousy, desire.

My moans grew louder as he held my hips and thrust deeper, harder.

I could feel his body pressing me down onto the bed, as if he wanted to possess me completely.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of a phone ringing.

Through my half-closed eyelids, I saw the screen on the nightstand, his girlfriend’s name clearly displayed.

Mike looked at the phone, then at me.

His hips stopped for a moment.

My heart stopped, this was the moment of truth.

After a second, he threw the phone aside, ignoring the call.

He looked me straight in the eyes, and there was a dark, trembling certainty in his voice:

“She can wait.”

He lay down on top of me with all his weight, whispering in my ear:

“Right now, it’s just us.”

That sentence blew my mind.

I screamed his name as an orgasm shook my body.

A moment later, I felt Mike stiffen, his hips making one last deep thrust before he came, completely lost in ecstasy.

He collapsed on top of me, sweaty, shaken, his heart pounding right next to my ear.

For a moment, it was just us, our rapid breathing and the warmth of our bodies.

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Me (Jordan) and Lucian live together in an uni accommodation, and he’s always walking around shirtless. And what a sight to behold. 

He’s easily the hottest guy I know with his blonde hair and hazel eyes, it’s genuinely very hard not to get lost in them. On top of that, he always catches me staring at his chest when he’s shirtless – Lucian’s chest is sculpted with muscle along his tan skin with a small dusting of light hair on his pecs.

For all the reasons I’ve just mentioned, when he asked me if I wanted to go to a party, I was slightly distracted (he was shirtless of course) and I said yes without even knowing what I said yes to. So, on the day of the party when he told me to get ready I stood there like an idiot, confused about when I had agreed to going to a party. But I couldn’t ditch Lucian so I kinda had to go. We went, and it was an ok party I guess, I don’t remember much. The important thing is what happened afterwards.

We got into the car and I started driving when he mumbles ‘it’s so fucking hot’ and starts to strip. First he takes his shirt off, then his jeans and sits in my car in his boxers.

‘Jordan I’m still hot open the windows man’ he starts to complain again, but the windows are wide open.

‘Lucian the windows are open’ I tell him. 

He looks over sluggishly and starts to pout. Now, I was already distracted by Lucian next to me, nearly naked. Was I waiting for him to take those boxers off? Maybe. Did I want to get home safely? Absolutely. Would that have happened if he took those boxers off? Most likely not. So for both of our safety ( and with some immense willpower) I told him to wait until we get home.

We get home and I walk with/drag Lucian to our room and put him into bed and take his shoes off. The whole time I stare at his boxers – his cock wasn’t even hard and it was easily 6 inches and thick. My hands start to move up from his feet to his inner thighs but I stop myself. This isn’t right. I tuck him into bed and stay to walk away.

As I leave, he grabs my arm.

‘Jordan, come here’ he says groggily.

He pulls me towards him, so close that I can smell the alcohol on his breath. I look him in his hooded eyes and I ask him, breathily ‘Yeah?’.

‘You think I wouldn’t realise you staring at my cock? I saw how badly you need it, you even tried to touch it didn’t you?’.

I stared at his face in shock. Shit. 

‘Don’t try and hide it Jordan’. He teases me. At this point I think, what more is there to lose?

I felt his right hand grab my hair and pull me down on top of him as he pressed his hot lips against mine. His tongue explored my mouth and I felt a deep moan leave me as I kept kissing him long and deep while is left hand started to squeeze my ass.

I start to notice his dick hardening against mine and my hands slowly go across his chest, caressing every muscle, feeling him squirm under my touch. My hand reaches his boxers and I feel his length up and down through his boxers – Lucian is easily 9, maybe 10 inches long with a fat, thick mushroom head. I free it from his boxers and start to slowly spread his precum around the head of his cock and I hear him moan against my lips.

‘I need to feel your throat around my cock Jordan’ he whispers in my ear. I say nothing but start to kiss and lick and touch my way down his chest unless I have his fat cock in front of my eyes.

‘Fuck Lucian your cock is massive’ I say as I lick up his leaking tip. I start to lick his shaft up and down, and I hear him asking for more, needing it so bad.

I opened my mouth and slowly took in his tip, then the next inch, until I got 6 inches deep. I started to slowly move my head up and down on his cock, licking my way along his dick. I feel his hands on my head, then he pushes my head down, my throat being forced open as my nose hits his pubes. I start to gag and my eyes water, needing air but he shoved me even harder down his cock and keeps me there.

‘Good boy, keep your throat pussy there for me, I want to hear you gag on my fat cock’ he says to me, his eyes sly as he looks at my red face. I keep gagging, and just when I think I can’t take anymore he lifts my head up and I gulp down the air. I pant like a dog as he stares at me with a slight smile. He then sits up and grabs me from my waist and throws me on the bed, face down and pull my ass up.

‘Fuck what a fat ass bud, I can’t wait to pound those cheeks’ he whispers in my ear as he has me bent over, his cock caressing my hole. I’m proud to say I’ve been bestowed with a giant hairy bubble butt, and clearly Lucian agreed when he spread my hairy ass cheeks wide and thrusted all of his fat meat into my hole without warning.

‘FUCK LUCIAN’ I screamed as felt his thick cock in my boy pussy, tearing through it. He kept his dick balls deep inside of me and leaned over to whispered in my ear ‘You want more don’t you bud. You want me to keep thrusting all the way into you hole don’t you.’

‘Please Lucian, I need you to fuck my ass so hard, I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk Lucian. Please, fuck me as hard as you can Lucian.’

He grabs my shoulders in reply and starts to thrust all the way inside of me as I whimper and moan and scream his name.

‘Fuck your so tight Jordan, it’s sucking my cock even deeper inside. I’m going to breed you, and shoot my seed all the way down you’ Lucian moans as he keeps shoving his dick in and out of my hole raw, and I keep begging him for more, I beg for his seed.

He moves his hand onto my ass and slaps my cheeks, ‘Who’s ass is this?’ he shouts at me.

‘Yours Lucian, it’s all yours to fuck’ I cry as I feel him fucking me faster, getting ready to shoot his load.

‘Please Lucian give me all your seed, breed me!!’ I scream and Lucian starts to groan and keeps pumping faster and faster inside of me.

‘FUCKKKK’ he screams, shooting his seed deep into my man pussy.

I feel the warmth of his load deep inside of me while Lucian falls over on my back and passes out, his cock still inside of me.

The pickup rattled north, chewing miles of rain-slicked asphalt beneath its worn tires. Eight hours, the map said. Eight hours of silence, broken only by the engine’s grumble and the rhythmic swipe of the wipers clearing the downpour. Grey towns blurred past, replaced by skeletal forests and the occasional flicker of a roadside diner sign swallowed by mist. David stared out his window, fingers tapping a restless rhythm on his thigh. John kept his eyes on the road, knuckles white on the wheel, every muscle coiled. Riggs felt like a phantom in the rearview mirror, his cruiser lights a constant threat just beyond sight.

Dawn bled into a damp, chilly noon as they finally turned onto a rutted logging track deep in the Adirondacks. Mud splattered the windshield. Towering pines closed in, their scent sharp and clean, smothering the truck’s exhaust. The camp appeared suddenly: a cluster of rough-hewn cabins huddled around a muddy clearing dominated by a massive, skeletal sawmill. Chainsaws snarled in the distance. Men moved like shadows among stacks of raw timber, faces grimed with sawdust and sweat, their movements heavy with exhaustion. A sign, crudely painted on plywood, read “Henderson Logging – Strong Backs Wanted. Pay Weekly. No Whiners.”

A man with forearms like knotted rope and eyes like flint emerged from the largest cabin. Henderson. He spat a stream of tobacco juice near John’s boot, his gaze sweeping over them, lingering on the faded ink on John’s forearm, the wary set of David’s shoulders.

“Murphy called,” Henderson grunted. “Said you could lift. Said you wouldn’t bitch.” He jerked a thumb towards the farthest cabin, its roof sagging. “Bunkhouse. Last two cots. Stove works. Outhouse out back. Chow line’s at five AM and six PM. Miss it, you starve. Work starts at first light. You quit before the week’s out, you get nothin’.” He turned away, already dismissing them. “Choppers need sharpening. Get to it.”

The bunkhouse smelled of mildew, sweat, and woodsmoke. Two narrow cots, stripped bare, sat against opposite walls. David dropped his duffel onto the lumpy mattress, the springs groaning. John set the food box on a rickety table scarred with knife marks. Outside, the whine of chainsaws was constant, like angry insects. David cracked the grimy window; the scent of pine sap and wet earth flooded in, a stark contrast to the scrap yard’s decay.

They found the sharpening station near the sawmill – a grinding wheel bolted to a stump, surrounded by piles of dull chainsaw teeth. A grizzled logger with a missing front tooth tossed them heavy gloves and files. “Don’t lose a finger,” he rasped, nodding at the spinning wheel.

David picked up a chain, the metal links cold and oily. He fed it onto the guide, sparks flying as the wheel bit into the steel. The rhythmic screech vibrated up his arms, familiar in its violence, yet alien here. It wasn’t crushing scrap; it was honing a tool for cutting life. John worked beside him, his movements precise, focused. The sparks reflected in his eyes – not prison-yard tension, but the grim concentration of a new survival.

The work was mindless, demanding. File, test the edge with a thumb (carefully), repeat. Their shoulders brushed occasionally, the only acknowledgment in the focused silence. The damp chill seeped through their jackets. Around them, loggers moved with the weary gait of men who’d been at it for weeks. No one spoke much. The forest loomed, vast and indifferent. David felt the weight of it, the sheer scale pressing down, different from the claustrophobia of the scrap yard or the town. Here, the cage was the wilderness itself. He glanced at John, saw the tight line of his jaw, the sweat beading at his temples despite the cold. Riggs felt a million miles away, but the vigilance remained, coiled tight in both of them.

At dusk, the camp bell clanged – a harsh, jarring sound. Men streamed towards a long, low cookhouse. The air thickened with the smell of boiled cabbage, burnt grease, and unwashed bodies. They joined the shuffling line, paper plates thrust at them, heaped with grey stew and lumpy mashed potatoes. They ate standing near the door, backs to the wall, watching. Conversations were low, grunts about timber yields, aching backs, the foreman’s temper. A few hard stares landed on them, the new meat, the outsiders. David met them levelly, his spoon scraping the plate clean. John kept his head down, eating fast. The food sat heavy, tasteless fuel.

Back in the bunkhouse, the single bulb cast long, swaying shadows. David lit the pot-bellied stove with crumpled newspaper and kindling. The thin metal pinged as it heated. They stripped to thermals, the damp cold biting until the stove’s heat began to radiate. David lay on his cot, the thin mattress offering little comfort.

The distant shriek of a chainsaw being tested cut through the night, then silence fell, thick and absolute. Only the crackle of the fire and the wind sighing in the pines. John lay still on his cot, staring at the water-stained ceiling planks. The ghosts felt quieter here, muffled by the vast, dark woods. But the silence between them hummed with the unspoken question: had they traded one trap for another? David closed his eyes, listening to John’s steady breathing, the only anchor in the immense, unknown dark.

Morning came brutally early. A fist hammered on the bunkhouse door before dawn. “Up! Chow line!” Henderson’s bark was swallowed by the forest. They pulled on stiff, damp work clothes and stumbled into the frigid gloom. The cookhouse line was longer, the stew greasier. Men ate quickly, eyes hollow. Henderson appeared, pointing a thick finger at John and David. “You two. With Pete. Blocking crew. West ridge.” A grizzled man with a perpetual squint nodded tersely. No welcome.

Pete led them deep into the woods, the path vanishing into mud and tangled undergrowth. The air smelled of crushed ferns and damp earth. They reached a clearing where massive, newly felled pines lay like fallen giants. Pete handed them heavy cant hooks – long wooden poles with curved metal hooks. “See them skids?” He pointed to greased logs laid parallel on the ground. “Roll the big bastards onto ’em. Don’t crush your damn feet.” His tone held no expectation of success.

The first log was immense, its bark rough and slick with dew. David jammed his hook into the wood, bracing his boots in the mud. John mirrored him on the opposite side. “Heave!” David grunted. They threw their weight against the poles. The log groaned, shifted an inch, then settled. Pete watched, impassive.

They repositioned, hooks biting deeper. Muscles screamed. “Now!” John yelled. A unified surge of strength. The log rolled, thudding onto the skids with a ground-shaking impact. Sawdust flew.

David met John’s eyes across the trunk. A flicker of grim satisfaction passed between them. Pete just spat. “Next one. Move.” The forest echoed with the thud of timber and the rasp of their breathing. Riggs felt like a bad dream fading. Here, the fight was elemental. Against the weight, the mud, the sheer indifference of the trees.

They worked until their hands blistered beneath gloves, sweat freezing on their brows in the mountain air. At midday, they huddled on a stump, passing a canteen of icy water. David tore into a hunk of hard bread. “Better than Finch’s peaches,” he grunted, nodding at the raw wilderness. John scanned the treeline. No sirens, no polished boots. Just the wind and the distant cry of a hawk. The silence was a balm.

A snapped branch cracked nearby. Both men tensed, hands tightening on cant hooks. A massive bull moose emerged from the pines, antlers like a crown of bone, steam puffing from its nostrils. It regarded them with dark, liquid eyes, unafraid. David slowly lowered his hook. John held his breath. For a long moment, man and beast measured each other in the hushed cathedral of the forest. Then, with a soft snort, the moose turned and melted back into the shadows.

David exhaled. “Not the only ones hiding out here.” He offered John the last of the bread. The work resumed, the rhythm grounding them. As dusk painted the sky bruised purple, they trudged back to camp, muscles leaden but strangely light. The bunkhouse stove glowed. David slumped onto his cot, pulling off mud-caked boots. John tossed him a cleanish rag. “Survived day one.”

David caught it, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. “Yeah.” Outside, the first stars pierced the vast, dark sky. The chainsaws were silent. The only ghosts here were the ones they’d brought with them – and for now, even they seemed smaller.

The days bled into a rhythm of brutal labor and exhausted silence. Up in the freezing dark, shovel greasy eggs, then march into the woods. Haul logs, wrestle them onto skids, clear slash until their muscles screamed and their hands were raw inside stiff leather gloves. The camp was a world of grunts, sweat, and the constant, biting scent of pine sap and diesel. Men moved with a weary, focused intensity, bodies honed by the work. Testosterone hung thick in the bunkhouse air, in the cookhouse line, a low thrum beneath the surface of every barked order and shared grunt.

John and David kept to themselves, mostly. They worked side-by-side, the unspoken understanding between them a solid thing forged in the town’s grime. But the isolation, the sheer physicality of the place, the raw proximity of so many hard men, created its own strange pressure. Whispers started, low and rough. In the steamy haze of the communal shower stall – little more than a tin shed with a pipe and lukewarm water – glances lingered a fraction too long on broad backs, corded shoulders. A logger named Mack, built like a grizzly, would clap another man on the ass with a meaty hand after a good haul, the smack echoing. Laughter would follow, sharp and edged. Sometimes, late at night, muffled sounds came from a nearby bunk – rhythmic creaking, a bitten-off groan. No one commented. It was just part of the landscape, like the mud and the cold.

David felt it too, the restless energy. The sheer exhaustion of the work didn’t kill the drive; it just channeled it into something primal. He’d catch John watching him across the bunkhouse as they stripped off sweat-stiff layers, John’s gaze lingering on the curve of his spine, the flex of his bicep as he pulled a clean shirt over his head. The look wasn’t new, but here, stripped of the town’s tension, it felt sharper, more immediate.

One evening, after a punishing day clearing a windfall, David stood under the weak shower stream. He heard the door creak open, felt the draft. He didn’t turn, just kept scrubbing the grime from his neck. He knew it was John by the weight of the silence, the familiar presence at his back. The water ran in rivulets down David’s skin.

John stepped closer, not under the spray, just into the steam. His hand, calloused and warm, settled on David’s wet shoulder. A simple touch, but in the damp, echoing shed, it felt like a spark hitting dry tinder. David went utterly still, head bowed, water sluicing over him. John’s thumb rubbed a slow circle on the tense muscle. The unspoken need hung thick in the steam.

David finally turned. Water plastered his dark hair to his forehead, droplets clinging to his lashes. He met John’s gaze, the raw exhaustion in his eyes mingling with something hotter, darker. The camp’s pervasive tension, the constant undercurrent of barely leashed male energy, narrowed down to this: the inches of space between them, the slick heat of skin, the shared history written in scars and ink. John’s other hand rose, tracing the water-slick line of David’s collarbone. David’s breath hitched, a sharp intake lost in the drip and hiss of the shower.

No words. None were needed. John pushed David gently back against the cold tin wall. David went willingly, his head thudding softly against the metal, eyes locked on John’s. John’s hand slid down David’s chest, over the flat plane of his stomach, rough fingertips tracing the trail of dark hair below his navel. David’s hips jerked forward instinctively, seeking friction.

John dropped to his knees on the wet concrete, the steam swirling around them like a shroud. He looked up, the question clear in his eyes. David’s hand tangled in John’s wet hair, not guiding, just holding on. A low groan tore from his throat as John took him in, the heat and wetness a shock after the camp’s pervasive chill. His head fell back against the tin with a dull thud, eyes squeezed shut, every muscle taut as wire. The relentless rhythm of the woods, the grind of survival, dissolved into this single, consuming point of contact.

Outside, the camp carried on – boots on gravel, a distant shout, the generator’s hum – but inside the shed, there was only the steam, the water, and the desperate, silent communion of two men clinging to the only anchor they had left.

John’s mouth was heat and pressure, a relentless rhythm that mirrored the brutal cadence of their days. David braced himself against the shuddering tin wall, knuckles white where he gripped the pipe above the showerhead. Water streamed over his bowed back, plastering John’s hair flat as he worked.

David’s breath came in ragged gasps, swallowed by the hiss of the spray. He forced his eyes open, looking down at the crown of John’s head, the powerful curve of his shoulders under the wet fabric of his work shirt, still half-on. The sight – John on his knees, utterly focused, utterly his – sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through David’s exhaustion.

He didn’t hear the shed door ease open another inch. Mack, drawn by the unusual silence and the steam billowing out, peered through the crack. His eyes, sharp beneath heavy brows, widened fractionally. He saw David’s head thrown back, throat working, muscles straining against the wall. He saw John kneeling, the deliberate motion of his head, the possessive grip of one hand high on David’s thigh. Mack’s own breath hitched. He’d seen plenty in the camps, but this was raw, unvarnished, a stark hunger that resonated deep in his own weary bones. A slow, thick flush crept up his neck. He shifted his weight, the gravel crunching softly under his boot.

David was beyond noticing. The coil in his gut tightened unbearably. He tangled his free hand tighter in John’s hair, not pushing, just holding on as the pressure built, relentless and consuming. A low, guttural sound vibrated in his chest, escaping as a choked groan. He felt John’s answering hum against him, a vibration that tipped him over the edge. His vision whited out as release tore through him, a violent shudder that racked his entire frame. He sagged against the wall, gasping, the cold tin a shock against his overheated skin.

John stayed with him, swallowing everything, his own breath ragged. He rested his forehead against David’s hip for a moment, the steam swirling around them. Then, slowly, he pushed himself up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes met David’s, dark and intense in the gloom, a silent understanding passing between them. He reached past David to turn off the water. The sudden silence was deafening.

Outside the shed, pressed against the rough wood siding, Mack hadn’t moved. The image was seared into his mind: the powerful arch of David’s back, the raw vulnerability in his clenched jaw, the absolute focus in John’s kneeling form. He’d seen the shudder, heard the bitten-off cry. Heat pooled low in Mack’s own belly, thick and unfamiliar. He shifted again, the bulge in his worn jeans pressing uncomfortably against the rough denim. His calloused hand drifted down, pressing hard against himself through the fabric, a rough mimicry of the rhythm he’d witnessed. He swallowed, throat dry, the camp sounds fading into a dull roar as he replayed the scene – the steam, the wet skin, the desperate, silent need. It was a hunger he recognized, but sharper, deeper, laid bare. He stayed frozen in the shadows, breathing heavily, long after the shed door creaked open and the two men slipped back into the night.

Inside the bunkhouse, the air crackled. John and David lay in their cots, the thin mattress springs groaning under their weight. The single bulb was off, only moonlight slicing through the grimy window, painting bars of silver across the floor. Neither slept. The shared release in the shed hadn’t brought peace; it had stripped away the last pretense of distance. The raw energy of the camp, the constant proximity, the sheer physical exhaustion that scraped nerves raw – it all simmered between them.

David stared at the water-stained ceiling. He could still feel the phantom pressure of John’s mouth, the scrape of his stubble. He shifted, the rough wool blanket scratching his bare chest. Across the narrow aisle, John’s breathing was too controlled, too quiet. David knew that stillness. It was the same coiled tension John carried before a fight, before prison, before Riggs. But here, now, it wasn’t violence humming in the dark. It was something else, thick and demanding.

A floorboard creaked. John was moving. Not towards the door, but across the cramped space. David didn’t turn his head, but his pulse hammered against his ribs. He felt the dip in the edge of his bunk as John sat, the frame protesting. The heat radiating from John’s body was a tangible force in the chilly room. David finally turned his head. Moonlight caught the hard line of John’s jaw, the intensity in his shadowed eyes. No words. None were needed. The question hung in the charged silence.

David lifted the edge of the thin blanket. An invitation, stark and simple. John slid in beside him, the bunk groaning dangerously under their combined weight. The space was impossibly small. They were pressed together from shoulder to hip, skin against skin, the heat almost shocking after the shed’s steam.

John’s arm slid around David’s waist, pulling him closer, anchoring him. David’s hand found the solid muscle of John’s back, fingers tracing the familiar ridges of old scars beneath the worn cotton of his undershirt. A shudder ran through John, not from cold.

Their foreheads touched. Breath mingled, hot and quick. The camp’s nocturnal sounds – the wind in the pines, the distant hoot of an owl – faded away. There was only the shared heat, the frantic beat of two hearts syncing, the rough scrape of calloused fingers against skin. John’s hand slid lower, tracing the waistband of David’s worn boxers. David arched into the touch, a low sound escaping his throat, swallowed by the night. The bunkhouse walls felt paper-thin, but the need was a roaring fire, consuming caution. They moved together in the narrow space, a silent, desperate dance of shared survival, finding solace not just in release, but in the fierce, unspoken claim of belonging.

Outside, pressed against the cold, rough wood, Mack burned. The image of John kneeling, David shuddering against the tin wall, replayed relentlessly behind his eyes. Disgust curdled in his gut – the ingrained reflex, the camp’s crude jokes echoing. “Fags.” “Queers.” Words spat like tobacco juice. Yet, beneath the revulsion, a hotter, more insistent current pulled him.

He’d seen the raw power in David’s surrender, the focused intensity in John’s service. It wasn’t weakness; it was a different kind of strength, a hunger that resonated deep in his own lonely, exhausted core. The disgust felt thin, brittle, like old paint cracking off weathered wood. What remained was a gnawing want, sharp and undeniable. He wanted to feel that heat, that fierce connection, not just witness it.

The thought shocked him. His hand, still pressed hard against the straining denim over his groin, tightened. How? How could he even approach it? He was Mack – big, gruff, the one who clapped backs and roared jokes. Not … this. He pictured walking into the bunkhouse, the words sticking in his throat. They’d laugh. Or worse. John’s eyes, dark and assessing, flashed in his mind. David’s coiled readiness.

Fear warred with the desperate longing. He couldn’t blurt it out. Maybe … an offer? Help with the heaviest logs? Share his hoarded whiskey? Anything to get close, to let them see the need he couldn’t voice. The cold night air did nothing to cool the flush on his neck or the frantic thudding in his chest. He needed a plan, a crack in their self-contained world he could wedge himself into.

Dawn was a grey smear when the fist hammered on the door. “Up! West ridge! Move it!” Henderson’s bark shattered the fragile peace.

John and David disentangled instantly, the intimacy replaced by the grim routine of survival. They dressed in silence, avoiding each other’s eyes, the shared heat of the night buried under layers of wool and flannel.

Mack watched them emerge from the bunkhouse, his gaze lingering, heavy and unreadable, before he turned and stomped towards the cookhouse line, his usual gruffness edged with a new, restless tension. The trap of the woods felt different now, charged with unspoken possibilities and Mack’s burning, conflicted hunger.

At the morning crew huddle, Henderson barked assignments. Mack cleared his throat, a rough sound. “West Ridge needs three for that widow-maker cluster,” he stated, jerking his head towards John and David. “They’re strong. Send ‘em with me.”

Henderson grunted, barely looking up from his clipboard. “Fine. Mack, you got ‘em. Don’t lose any limbs.”

The hike to West Ridge was steep and silent, the air thick with pine and Mack’s palpable anxiety. They reached a dense stand choked by a massive, leaning pine – the widow-maker – tangled in the canopy. Mack dropped his chainsaw, turning abruptly to face them. His face was flushed beneath the grime, eyes darting between them, unable to settle.

“Saw you,” he blurted, the words rough stones tumbling out. “Last night. In the shed.” He swallowed hard, knuckles white on his axe handle. “Looked … powerful. Real.” He shifted his weight, the admission hanging heavy in the damp air. “Been thinkin’ … maybe … I could join you sometime?” His gaze flickered between them, raw vulnerability warring with the ingrained camp bravado. “Just once. See what it’s like.”

John and David exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing in an instant. Suspicion hardened John’s eyes. This could be a setup, Mack gathering ammunition for ridicule or worse. David’s posture shifted subtly, ready for a fight, his jaw tight. The camp’s harsh judgments echoed in the sudden silence.

Mack saw the doubt. He raised his hands, palms out, a gesture of surrender. “No trap,” he insisted, his voice dropping low, earnest. “Swear on my mother’s grave. Ain’t told nobody. Won’t. Just … I need …” He trailed off, unable to articulate the gnawing emptiness the sight of their connection had carved in him. His sincerity was palpable, a desperate heat radiating off him that felt genuine amidst the forest chill.

David studied Mack’s flushed face, the tremor in his thick fingers. He saw the same lonely hunger he’d known behind bars, the yearning for contact that transcended words. He gave John a barely perceptible nod. John’s suspicion didn’t vanish, but it softened into wary assessment. He met Mack’s pleading eyes. “Tonight,” John said, his voice low and flat. “After chow. Our bunkhouse. Don’t be seen.”

Relief washed over Mack’s face, stark and profound. He nodded jerkily, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Tonight.” He turned back to the widow-maker, hefting his axe with renewed, almost frantic energy, the rhythmic thuds echoing the frantic beat of his heart. The work resumed, the air thick with unspoken anticipation.

The day unfolded with brutal familiarity – hauling logs, wrestling slash, the bite of the cold and the scream of chainsaws. But for Mack, the rhythm felt different. He worked alongside John and David, closer than before, his usual gruff commands replaced by nods and shared efforts. When David strained against a stubborn trunk, Mack was there, shoulder-to-shoulder, adding his bulk without needing to be asked. He passed John the sharpening file without a word, their calloused fingers brushing briefly. A flicker of something warm, unfamiliar, bloomed in Mack’s chest. It wasn’t just the prospect of tonight; it was this – the silent solidarity, the feeling of being part of something contained and potent. He caught John’s eye once, a quick glance, and saw not hostility, but a guarded acknowledgment. It felt like belonging, a sensation he hadn’t realized the camp’s crude camaraderie had never truly offered.

As dusk bled into the mountains, Mack lingered near the cookhouse, his usual spot with the loudest laughers abandoned. He washed with unusual care at the pump, scrubbing grime from his neck and hands, the icy water a shock. He avoided the usual bunkhouse banter, slipping away early towards the designated cabin. The path felt treacherous, every snapping twig a potential witness. He paused outside the door, his hand hovering, the enormity of what he’d asked crashing over him.

Taking a deep breath of the pine-scented night air, he pushed the door open. Inside, the pot-bellied stove glowed, casting flickering shadows. John leaned against the wall near the window, arms crossed, watching the door. David sat on the edge of his bunk, sharpening a hunting knife with slow, deliberate strokes, the scrape of steel the only sound. Both men looked up as Mack entered, their expressions unreadable in the dim light. The air crackled with tension, thick and expectant.

Mack closed the door softly behind him, the latch clicking like a gunshot in the silence. He stood just inside, dwarfing the small space, his breathing suddenly loud. He met David’s steady gaze, then John’s. “I’m here,” he rasped, the words hanging heavy in the charged stillness.

John pushed off the wall. David set the knife aside. They moved towards Mack as one, closing the distance without hesitation. The air crackled. John reached him first, placing a hand flat on Mack’s broad chest. David mirrored him on the other side. Mack flinched slightly at the contact, then exhaled, a shudder running through him. He lifted his arms, thick and trembling, draping them loosely over their shoulders. David’s arm slid around Mack’s waist, pulling him in. John did the same. The three men pressed close, forming a tight, breathing triangle in the center of the bunkhouse.

The first touch was tentative. Mack lowered his head, his rough lips brushing John’s temple. John tilted his face up, meeting Mack’s mouth with a soft, testing pressure. It was chaste, almost hesitant. Then David leaned in, his lips finding the hinge of Mack’s jaw. Mack gasped, turning his head, his mouth finding David’s. The kiss deepened instantly, fueled by a week of pent-up tension and raw need. Mack’s tongue swept forward, clumsy but demanding. David met it, their tongues sliding together, wet and searching.

John watched for a heartbeat, his own hunger flaring, then he pressed his mouth to Mack’s neck, tasting salt and pine, before claiming David’s lips in a fierce, open-mouthed kiss over Mack’s shoulder. The rhythm became a messy, shared dance – lips, teeth, tongues meeting and retreating, breaths mingling hotly. Mack groaned, a deep rumble in his chest, his hands fisting in the fabric of their shirts.

Fingers fumbled with buttons and belts. Shirts were yanked over heads, tossed aside. Boots kicked off. Jeans and work pants pooled around ankles. They stepped out of the fabric puddles, naked in the firelight. Three bodies, scarred and powerful from labor, stood revealed.

Mack’s thick cock jutted heavily from a thatch of dark hair, already fully hard, flushed and leaking. David’s erection was a rigid line against his stomach, pulsing visibly. John’s cock stood proud, glistening at the tip. The stove’s glow painted their sweat-slicked skin gold, highlighting the hard planes of muscle, the dusting of hair, the raw vulnerability beneath the camp’s grime. The air thickened with the scent of male sweat, woodsmoke, and the sharp tang of arousal. The tentative exploration was gone, replaced by a shared, breathless hunger.

David moved first, sinking fluidly to his knees before Mack. He wrapped one hand around the thick base of Mack’s cock, steadying it, then leaned forward, taking the swollen head fully into his mouth. His lips stretched wide, sealing tight. Mack gasped, a ragged sound, his hands instinctively tangling in David’s damp hair as David began to suck, his head bobbing slowly, deliberately. He hollowed his cheeks, applying firm, rhythmic pressure, his tongue swirling around the sensitive ridge beneath the crown. Mack’s hips jerked slightly, his eyes wide and fixed on the sight of David swallowing him down.

John watched, his own cock twitching, then stepped behind David. He ran his hands possessively down David’s sweat-slicked back, tracing the knobs of his spine, before gripping his hips. Spitting into his palm, John slicked his cock, then pressed the broad head against David’s tight, waiting hole. David groaned around Mack’s cock, the vibration making Mack shudder. John pushed forward steadily, relentlessly, until he was fully sheathed inside David’s heat. David arched his back, pushing his ass back against John’s thrusts, taking Mack deeper into his throat. The rhythm was established: John driving deep into David, David sucking Mack with increasing fervor.

Mack, overwhelmed by the dual sensations – the wet heat of David’s mouth and the sight of John fucking him – reached out blindly. His large hand found John’s hip, pulling him closer. John leaned into the touch, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, his balls slapping against David’s ass. David moaned continuously around Mack’s cock, the sound muffled, primal. Mack’s other hand slid down, his thick fingers finding David’s straining cock. He wrapped his calloused palm around it, stroking in time with John’s deep thrusts and David’s sucking rhythm. David’s body became a conduit, trembling between them.

John pulled out suddenly, leaving David gasping. He turned Mack roughly, pressing him against the cold cabin wall. Spitting into his hand again, John slicked himself and pressed against Mack’s tight entrance. Mack braced himself, eyes wide, breath catching as John pushed in slowly, relentlessly stretching him. A deep groan tore from Mack’s throat, a mix of pain and intense pleasure. David rose, his mouth glistening. He moved behind John, his own cock hard and eager. He gripped John’s hips, guiding himself into John’s ass with a low grunt, sinking deep. John arched back, his head falling onto David’s shoulder, his own thrusts into Mack momentarily stilled by the invasion.

The three men locked together, a chain of raw need. David began to move, fucking John with deep, powerful strokes. John, impaled and impaling, started thrusting into Mack again, driven by David’s rhythm. Mack, pinned against the wall, reached back with one massive hand, grabbing David’s hip, pulling him deeper into John, amplifying the force. David leaned forward, biting John’s shoulder, his hand snaking around John’s waist to fist Mack’s cock again, pumping it in time with his own thrusts. The bunkhouse echoed with the slap of skin, the guttural groans, the ragged breaths. Sweat ran in rivulets down their straining backs, the air thick with musk and exertion. They moved as one desperate, sweating beast, each man both giving and taking, consumed by the shared, brutal heat.

John kissed David hard, tasting Mack on his lips, then pushed him down onto his knees. David understood, shifting to take Mack’s thick cock back into his mouth, sucking with renewed hunger. John knelt behind Mack, gripping his hips. He spat onto Mack’s stretched entrance, slicking it again, then drove back into him with a single, deep thrust that punched a choked cry from Mack’s throat. Mack braced his hands against the wall, his head hanging, as John fucked him steadily, powerfully. David watched, his hand working his own cock as he sucked Mack, mesmerized by the sight of John claiming the big man, Mack’s powerful body yielding to John’s relentless pace. The firelight danced on their slick skin, shadows leaping on the walls.

Mack shuddered violently, his release sudden and explosive. He roared, hips jerking as he emptied his sperm deep into David’s throat. David swallowed convulsively, milking him with his mouth until Mack sagged against the wall, spent and trembling. John didn’t slow, his thrusts into Mack growing more urgent, ragged. He reached around Mack’s heaving torso, his calloused hand finding David’s cock. David’s eyes snapped open, locking with John’s as John’s fingers tightened, stroking him in time with his own relentless fucking. The dual sensation – Mack’s softening cock in his mouth, John’s hand on him, the visual of John claiming Mack – pushed David over the edge. He came with a muffled cry against Mack’s thigh, stripes of white sperm painting the scarred wood floor.

John pulled out of Mack, leaving the big man gasping. He pushed David onto his back on the rough bunk mattress. David spread his legs, still shuddering from his climax. John knelt between them, his own cock slick and straining. He entered David in one smooth, deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt. David arched, a raw gasp tearing from him as John set a brutal, possessive pace. Mack, recovering, watched for a moment, his eyes dark with renewed hunger. He moved behind John, kneeling. Spitting into his palm, he slicked his own cock, still thick and half-hard, then pressed the blunt head against John’s entrance. John tensed, then growled, “Do it.” Mack pushed in slowly, stretching John, filling him until their bodies were flush, John sandwiched between them.

The rhythm became a shared, driving force. Mack thrust into John, his powerful hips slamming forward. Each surge drove John deeper into David. David cried out, his hands scrabbling at John’s back, his legs hooked over John’s hips. John, impaled and impaling, braced himself, meeting Mack’s thrusts and driving harder into David. Sweat dripped from Mack’s brow onto John’s back, mingling with the sheen covering all three men. Mack reached around John’s heaving torso, his thick fingers finding David’s cock, slick with sweat and spend. He wrapped his fist around it, stroking in time with his deep, jarring thrusts into John. David’s head thrashed on the thin pillow, overwhelmed by the relentless pressure inside and out, the rough hand on his cock.

John felt his climax coiling, a white-hot wire pulled taut. Mack’s thrusts grew erratic, his breath ragged grunts in John’s ear. David’s choked cries hit a higher pitch. Mack’s hand worked furiously on David’s cock. With a final, guttural roar, Mack slammed deep into John and held, shuddering as he emptied himself. The intense clench of John’s body around him triggered John’s own release; he drove into David one last time, pulsing hard inside him as a low groan ripped from his chest. The sensation of John filling him while Mack pulsed within John pushed David over the edge again. He came with a silent scream, his body bowing off the bunk, stripes of white painting his stomach and Mack’s still-stroking fist.

They collapsed in a tangle of limbs and heaving breaths, the bunk groaning under their combined weight. The only sounds were the crackle of the dying fire and their labored breathing, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

Slowly, Mack withdrew, his movements heavy with exhaustion. He sank onto the edge of the bunk beside David, his massive frame trembling slightly. Without a word, John shifted, rolling off David but staying close, his body pressed against David’s side.

Mack looked down at them, his gaze lingering on the sweat-slicked curve of David’s shoulder, the possessive angle of John’s arm draped across David’s chest. A raw, unguarded hunger still flickered in his eyes, mixed with a profound, unfamiliar contentment. He leaned down, his movements tentative at first. His lips brushed John’s temple, a soft, lingering touch that held more reverence than lust. Then he turned, his rough mouth finding David’s, the kiss deep and slow, tasting of salt and shared exertion.

“Tomorrow?” Mack rasped against David’s lips, the single word thick with need. David met his gaze, then glanced at John. John gave a single, slow nod, his eyes heavy-lidded but clear.

“Yeah,” David murmured. “Tomorrow.”

Mack stood, the movement stiff. He gathered his discarded clothes with clumsy hands, not bothering to dress yet. He paused at the door, looking back at the two men tangled on the narrow bunk.

The raw scent of sex and sweat still hung thick in the air, but beneath it, Mack felt something else settle within him – a quiet hum of belonging. It wasn’t just the shared release, the physical obliteration of loneliness. It was the unspoken trust, the way John had nodded permission for David to answer, the way David had looked to John first. He’d been included, not just used. He’d been part of the anchor they clung to, not an intruder snapping at its edges.

The wary glances he’d endured since arriving faded, replaced by the memory of John’s powerful body yielding to his thrusts, David’s mouth swallowing him whole. He belonged here, in this raw, unspoken pact. The camp’s usual, superficial camaraderie felt hollow in comparison.

He slipped out into the biting night, the cold air a shock on his bare skin. Instead of heading straight to his own bunkhouse, he walked a few paces into the trees. Leaning against a massive pine, he looked up at the vast, star-strewn sky. A low chuckle escaped him, rough and genuine. For the first time in years, the immense silence of the wilderness didn’t feel isolating. It felt like a shared space, a place where his own hunger wasn’t a shameful secret but a thread woven into the fabric of this hidden world he’d stumbled into with John and David. He belonged to the rhythm of their survival now.

Back in the bunkhouse, John shifted, pulling David closer against the chill seeping through the thin walls. David’s head rested on John’s shoulder, their breathing slowly syncing. The raw energy had burned off, leaving a heavy, satisfied exhaustion in its wake. David traced the fresh scratches on John’s bicep – marks from Mack’s grip. “He’s strong,” David murmured, the words barely audible.

John grunted, a low rumble in his chest. “Holds like a vise.” There was no anger in it, just a blunt acknowledgment. The shared intensity had forged a wordless understanding between them and Mack, a new layer in their fragile sanctuary.

The next morning dawned grey and wet, a cold drizzle slicking the mud paths between the bunkhouses. Mack fell into step beside them as they trudged towards the cookhouse, his usual loud banter replaced by a focused silence. His eyes, however, held a new intensity when they flicked towards John or David – a look that was part appraisal, part unspoken claim. At the griddle, he wordlessly slid an extra strip of bacon onto each of their tin plates. The gesture drew a few raised eyebrows from the other loggers, but Mack just stared them down, his broad frame radiating a protective challenge. John met his gaze steadily and gave a single, curt nod. David kept his eyes on his plate, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

Pete assigned them to clear a new section of windfall – a chaotic tangle of snapped trunks and branches brought down by the previous night’s storm. Mack worked alongside them, his axe biting deep into the wet wood with powerful, efficient strokes. There was a new rhythm to their labor, a silent coordination that hadn’t been there before. When a massive, waterlogged trunk resisted David’s saw, Mack stepped in without a word, his shoulder pressing hard against David’s as they heaved together, the log groaning before finally rolling free. The brief, full-body contact lingered, charged and unspoken.

During the mid-morning break, huddled under a dripping tarp, Mack passed his canteen to John first. John took a long swig, wiped the mouthpiece with his thumb, and handed it to David. David drank, his eyes meeting Mack’s over the rim. Mack’s gaze was steady, a silent question in the grey light. David passed the canteen back, his knuckles brushing Mack’s. Mack’s hand closed over it, holding the contact for a second longer than necessary, a spark in the damp chill. John watched, expressionless, but his posture relaxed minutely against the rough bark of the pine they leaned on.

Back at work, Mack maneuvered close to John near a half-split stump. “That ridge trail,” Mack grunted, swinging his axe. “Saw bear sign yesterday.

John paused, wiping rain from his eyes. “Big?”

“Grizzly. Sow with cubs.” Mack’s gaze flicked to David wrestling a branch nearby. “Tracks head towards the west gully.”

John nodded. That gully was tomorrow’s work zone. Mack was warning them, not Henderson. The unspoken alliance tightened.

At dusk, the drizzle turned to icy needles. Mack followed them to their bunkhouse, shoulders hunched against the cold. Inside, he shook water from his hair like a bear. “Freezing out there,” he muttered, stripping off his soaked flannel. David tossed him a rough towel without a word.

John stoked the stove. The fire’s crackle filled the small space as they shed wet layers. Mack stood near the bunk, towel slung low on his hips. David approached him, drawn like iron to a magnet. He pressed his palm flat against Mack’s chest, feeling the thunder of his heart. Mack’s breath hitched.

John watched from the stove, heat radiating at his back. David leaned in, biting Mack’s shoulder, not gently. Mack growled, grabbing David’s hips, pulling him flush. Their kiss was a clash of teeth and tongues, wet and urgent.

John moved behind David, peeling off his undershirt. His calloused hands slid around David’s waist, up his ribs, claiming skin as David claimed Mack’s mouth. The bunkhouse air thickened, charged with the storm outside and the one building within. Mack’s hands slid lower, gripping David’s ass, pulling him harder against his own rising need. John’s mouth found the nape of David’s neck, biting down as David arched back into him with a groan. The rhythm began, raw and inevitable.

Mack broke the kiss, his eyes dark and fixed on John over David’s shoulder. “Your turn,” he rasped, voice thick. He pushed David back into John’s arms. John caught him, their mouths crashing together, tasting rain and Mack. David’s hands fumbled with John’s belt buckle, urgency making him clumsy. Mack watched, stripping off his own jeans with rough, impatient tugs. He moved behind John as David freed John’s cock, already hard and flushed.

Mack spat into his palm, slicking himself, then pressed against John’s entrance. John braced, a low groan vibrating against David’s lips as Mack pushed in, thick and relentless. David dropped to his knees, taking John into his mouth, swallowing him deep as Mack began to thrust, setting a hard, driving rhythm that rocked John forward into David’s throat.

The stove crackled, casting leaping shadows as they moved — Mack’s powerful hips pistoning, John braced and taking it, David servicing him with wet, hungry pulls. Mack reached around John’s heaving torso, his calloused hand finding David’s cock, already hard again. He fisted it roughly, stroking in time with his deep thrusts. David moaned around John, the vibrations making John jerk and curse.

John pulled David up roughly, breaking contact. “Turn,” he growled at David. David obeyed, bracing his hands against the cold tin of the stove. John spat onto his palm, slicked himself, and entered David in one smooth, deep push. David cried out, back arching. Mack didn’t pause, driving harder into John, each thrust slamming John deeper into David. The bunkhouse filled with the slap of skin, guttural groans, the stove’s metallic ping as David’s hip hit it.

Mack’s rhythm grew frantic, his breath ragged gasps against John’s neck. His thick fingers tightened on David’s cock, pumping furiously. David braced against the stove, the heat searing his palms as John hammered into him, driven by Mack’s relentless thrusts. The overlapping sensations – John filling him, Mack’s hand working him, the stove’s scorching metal – coiled David’s release tight and sudden. He came with a choked shout, stripes of white splattering the stove’s dented surface, his body shuddering violently.

The clench of David’s body around him tipped John over the edge. He slammed deep, holding David pinned as he pulsed inside him, a low groan tearing from his chest. Mack felt John’s muscles clamp down, triggering his own climax. He buried himself to the hilt in John, roaring as he emptied himself, hips jerking erratically. They collapsed forward in a sweating heap, David sandwiched between the stove and John, Mack slumped heavily over John’s back.

For long moments, only their ragged breathing filled the bunkhouse, mingling with the stove’s crackle. Mack withdrew slowly, wincing. He sank onto the edge of the bunk, running a trembling hand over his face. John pulled out of David, turning him gently. David leaned back against the cooling stove, his eyes glazed, chest heaving. John cupped his jaw, thumb brushing his cheekbone, a silent check-in. David nodded, a faint, exhausted smile touching his lips. Mack watched them, the raw intimacy a physical ache in his chest. He reached out, his thick fingers hesitantly brushing David’s hip, then John’s arm. The contact wasn’t sexual; it was grounding, a confirmation of shared existence in the aftermath.

The next week blurred into a rhythm of brutal labor and stolen nights. Mack became a fixture in their bunkhouse, his presence no longer tentative. The camp noticed. Whispers grew louder, glances turned into hard stares.

Henderson pulled Mack aside one drizzly morning, his voice low and dangerous. “Heard things, Mack. Unnatural things. About you bunkin’ with those two.”

Mack met his gaze, unflinching. “My business, boss.”

Henderson’s eyes narrowed. “Not when it stinks up my camp. Get your gear. You’re on the north slope. Solo.”

It was exile. Mack just nodded, jaw tight. He caught John and David’s eyes across the yard as he shouldered his pack. A silent message passed: *Tonight. Usual place.* They nodded back, a fraction of an inch. The fragile sanctuary was cracking.

That evening, Mack didn’t come to their bunkhouse.

An hour past curfew, John slipped out into the biting cold. He found Mack near the north slope boundary, huddled under a tarp strung between pines, a small fire struggling against the damp. Mack looked up, his face grim in the flickering light.

“Henderson knows,” he rasped. “Said he’s got eyes. Warned me off.” He poked the fire. “Told him to piss off.”

John crouched beside him. “He won’t let it lie.”

Mack nodded. “Scrap yard all over again. Just colder.” He looked at John, the firelight reflecting in his eyes.

“We gotta go. Before he makes it worse.” The decision hung in the frosty air. Running again. But this time, they wouldn’t be two. John placed a hand on Mack’s broad shoulder. “Pack light. We leave before first light. Meet at the truck.” Mack covered John’s hand with his own, a solid, wordless pact forged in the wilderness. The anchor they’d found was shifting, pulling them towards an uncertain horizon, but together.

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All through high school I was king of the world, literally I was the most popular Jock their was. Everyone loved me, everyone wanted to be me and I had my pick of girls, and sometimes boys. All they wanted was my hard dick in their mouth, pussy or ass. And I obliged. I had countless number of girls and boys and I didn’t care if I left than high and dry, as long as my dick was satisfied.

My university years were the same, lots of girls wanting me to settle down with them, but my dick was ready and waiting for action. So the little time I dated my dick was still pumping in and out of ass and pussy.

University finished and I was a young professional, still playing sports and going to the gym keeping my body in good condition. Still playing the field and having my pick of anyone. I had a perfect sex life, maybe one or two different partners easily a week. I had some I kept for regular fucking and some that I’d use for a while and then toss aside.

I reached my thirties and I was missing something. I wasn’t sure what it was, I still had a body of a god, women and men would almost do anything to get with me. But I wasn’t sure if I was missing something, which is how and why this story begins.

I’ll introduce to you Patrick. Patrick was an obese kid at my school, he would be constantly bullied, we’d laugh at him trying to run or play sports. I tormented him terribly. I used to whip his towel away from him whilst he was changing for sports and show everyone his micro dick.

I never really thought much of him and once I hit university I had totally forgotten about him. I didn’t realise how much of my life would change because of him.

One day I was looking for a willing ass to sink my dick in, sometimes guys are much easier to fuck than trying to persuade a hot bitch to take her panties down. I flicked open Grindr on my phone and searched through. Some 25 year old twink had messaged me. I replied “if you want a thick 8 inch dick, tell me where you want it and give me twenty minutes “. Being that abrupt usually worked on those types of guys.

He replied almost instantly, being coy. But I knew that I would be sinking my dick into him soon enough. He said something about not being ready. Gay guys and their hygiene. I don’t give a fuck if shit ends up on my dick, I’m fucking his ass. But if it does, the slut needs to clean it off. Ha! I told him to get his ass ready and I’ll be to his in 45 minutes. That should give him time.

50 minutes later, I like to keep them thinking I was just fucking with them. I turn up. My dick almost hard as I reach the door. He opens it up in some loose clothing and I pretty much push him in and pull his clothing off. Cute little butt in those jocks.

He falls straight to his knees and gets my almost 8 inch thick piece of meat out and slowly starts licking it. I’m an inpatient person, so I start thrusting and pushing his head down deep onto my dick. The boy keeps choking on it. Time to head straight for that ass. I turn him around and notice his jocks aren’t as full as I’m used too, perhaps his cock isn’t as hard as some other guys I fuck. I assume this twink has a tiny cock. No wonder he’s wanting mine. I whip him around and then slowly but surely I stick my thick cock deep into his ass. I don’t stop until I have bottomed out. Ahh that felt so good. The little twink is breathing deeply. I don’t think he’s used to my thickness.

I fuck him for a while doggy style and then whip him around, I want to see what this guy is like, nothing better than a bottom with his cock all hard bouncing up and down on mine. I don’t touch them. In fact touching another guys dick is horrid, but I do like to see it all hard whilst he’s giving me pleasure. As he turned around I looked him up and down, he had lots of marks all over his butt and back. Ignoring those, I turn him around and pull down his jocks. The boy tries to stop me, but is no good. He then turns a deep shade of red. I look down and I’m like “what the fuck is on your dick” I blurt out before even thinking it.

The guy, all coy and holding his hands over where his dick is supposed to be starts trying to say something but he’s too embarrassed. “You fucking bitch, haha is that a cock cage?” I laugh.

The boy nods reluctantly and I laugh it off. I then pull him down so he sits on my cock. He bounces away and rides me good. It’s little caged dick bouncing about looking like he’s properly hard underneath that.

He bounces away and I feel that orgasm coming and I don’t want to plant my seed inside of him. I know that’s what he wants, but I’m a total asshole and I know what’s more exciting for me. I pull my dick out, push him onto the bed. I then beat my meat with my hand till I plaster his face with my cum. He tries to catch it all in his mouth, but I deny him that luxury.

He looks at me with all that cum over his face, dripping down his chin. I tell him “thanks pal, your the first guy I have ever fucked that doesn’t have a dick”

“Sir told me to let you fuck me with it on, it’s totally embarrassing” he said

“Sir, who is this Sir?” I ask

“Sir owes me, he doesn’t normally share but when he saw your profile, he let me service you.”

“I must meet this Sir” I say

“I will tell him when I see him”

“Do you want a tissue” I ask

“I’m not allowed to clean it till Sir tells me” he said

“Wow, you really are into that sort of shit” I say

“Sir doesn’t approve of me disobeying his orders”

It all clicks into place, the marks on his butt and back are lash marks. He gets punished for his disobedience. The perfect slut. It made my dick hard, again. I went to pull his face down onto my dick, but he pulls away.

“Sir said, I can only let you fuck me once”

I look down at him, this little petite boy, hairless and his dick stuck in a cage, being obedient so it doesn’t get another lashing. My dick was a raging boner and this boy wasn’t wanting to help me out.

I pull him closer and push him down on my cock. The boy almost screams, but it doesn’t matter. Soon enough he’s gobbling my dick. Once he’s finished I flip him over and stick my dick back in his ass. It was so tight. I had my way and after about twenty minutes of hard fucking him, I came deep in his ass. I fell onto him and ended up in a deep sleep.

When I awoke, instead of a fit boy ready to suck my dick again, I awoke to not being able to move my hands or feet. I tried opening my eyes but it was blackness and I tried to shout but something was in my mouth. I tried to wiggle out of it, I tried to force it but I couldn’t. My naked body was tied up and I was gagged. I heard footsteps coming towards me. In a panic I tried to reason with it but my words were muffled.

A sharp pain flicked across my stomach, I winced. Another another and another. It was relentless, the burning stinging pain was unbearable. It was relentless, my stomach was sore and I was dripping in sweat, my heart rate was up and I was gasping for air through the gag.

I felt my hands being slowly untied and my feet, I was exhausted and didn’t put much of a fight up. I got flipped over so my bare butt was on display. Hands and feet tied up again. I felt someone’s hand stroking my naked body. The hands were stroking my buttocks and slowly poking my taint. I’ve never had anyone down there before and tried to pull my butt away. Then, an enormous smash came down onto my butt. The shock, pain and desire went through my body. My dick started to raise. Again another smack came to my butt, and another. The warm hand smacking my bottom was painful but at the same time exhilarating. My cock was at full mast, completed hidden as it poked into the bed.

I wasn’t sure how long my bottom was snacked, in fact I’m not sure what had happened. I was in another state completely. The pain stopped, well it didn’t stop, my brain stopped processing it. My mind saw a new type of clarity. I knew I was missing something in my life and this was it.

After a while the smacking had stopped. I was still breathing heavily and there was a lot of moisture down my dick. I thought I may have wet myself. That would have been totally humiliating.

My hands and feet were untied. It was so good to feel them again.

I was flipped over to the front and my now soft cock felt damp in the air.

“Eww, new boy enjoyed that too much” a deep voice said, an almost familiar voice.

I couldn’t speak, but I moved my hands to my eyes to remove the blindfold. I took it off and my sight slowly returned, blurred. I looked down at my dick and I saw cum all over it. Then I looked up and the boy was standing over me, still naked with his cock cage on. Then next to the boy stood a magnificent male. He was tall, built and had a wiry grin on his face. A face I could recognise, just not on that body.

Fuck… I took the gag out of mouth “you fuckhead I shouted” but as it came out my voice was so meek. I was exhausted.

I knew that voice and that face, it was Patrick. The fat kid from school.

“Dylan Goldfield” he sniggered “who’d have thought you’d cum just from my hand beating your ass”. He laughed. “How pathetic”.

I tired to get up to smack the shit out of him, but my legs were so weak. “You shouldn’t have fucked my toy more than you were allowed” he said taking a hand sweetly to the cheek of the boy. “He’s a precious thing” his hands moved to his nipple.

Grabbing me by the balls, he moved his head right into my eye line “today was a free session for you, next time you want me to get you in to subspace, you have to pay” he chuckled “I normally don’t do freebie’s” tugging on my balls.

“Today Dylan you have learned a valuable lesson, when you are given something, don’t take more than you were given” he paused “next time you do anything to my Toys, I will make sure you aren’t able to do anything to anyone again.” He finally let go of my balls.

“You have a choice, run away as fast as you can, or you can come back and be one of my playthings” he paused and looked the boy “I do take care of my Toys you know.”

Before I knew it my cock started to get a slight hard on, I tried to hide it, but Patrick clocked it. His grin turned in to a bigger smirk.

The boy gave me my clothes and without a word I dressed and got the hell out of there, swearing I’d never got back.

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I didn’t know it yet but tonight I would become a Jack of Spades.

I had been brought here by Jerome, a black buddy of mine from work. He told me that this club was a special membership only men’s club but with him I could go in so I went with him. He assured it would be a new and exciting night for me. You will have to go through an initiation though so you can come back anytime on your own if you’re interested.

Once inside the music was blaring and it was crowded. I looked around and saw only a few white men but didn’t think too much about it. I did notice that none of them were alone, they were all with small groups of black men. We found a table and someone brought some drinks to us. Several of the men greeted Jerome and told him they were glad he had brought some fresh meat with him.

After my third drink I asked Jerome where the bathroom was and he told me. As I walked into the bathroom the first thing I saw was one of the white guys kneeling in front of a big black man with his huge black cock in his mouth and the guy moving his head up and down on it. I quickly took a leak and hurried back to Jerome.

He asked me what was bothering me and I told him what I had witnessed. He just laughed. Yeah he said that was a Jack of Spades doing what is expected of him. He handed me a new drink and told me to drink up the night was young yet and I had a lot to learn about this special club.

I drank my drink and by now was feeling no pain. I could see several white guys now sucking black cocks right out in the open. It was beginning to turn me on as my cock was getting hard in my pants. You like what you see Gary he asked me. I don’t know what you mean I replied. Well it likes your cock likes what’s happening you keep adjusting it.

He stood in front of me and told me to touch his cock. I don’t know why I did it but I reached out and rubbed his big cock through his pants. It felt huge. Go ahead and take it out he told me and again I did what he told me to do. That feels nice he said and he grabbed my hand. Then he began moving it up and down his hard cock. When he let go I kept stroking it on my own.

Why don’t you kiss he said. I don’t know about that I said, I am not gay. It doesn’t make you gay if it is a black cock so go ahead, you know you want to. I slowly moved my head towards it and eventually felt it against my lips. After a minute he took my head in his hands and pushed it onto his cock. I started to protest but as soon as my mouth opened he pulled it onto that big cock of his. Now I had a cock in my mouth, the first ever. He began moving my head back and forth on it until I felt it hit the back of my throat. I started to gag and he pulled it back. You’ll learn to take it all into your throat before this night is over he told me and went back to slowly fucking my mouth.

With no warning he suddenly flooded my mouth with his cum. He held my head and told me to swallow it all which I had no choice but to do. When He finally released my head and I leaned back I saw several black cocks around us. Now take care of my friends he told me and another cock pushed its way back into my mouth.

I sucked three more cocks and swallowed all their loads. Now that wasn’t so bad was it cocksucker? I didn’t know what to say so remained silent. Someone announced that there was a new cocksucker here tonight and the Jack of Spades initiation was going to get under way soon. Someone brought a strange bench out to the middle of the stage. It was just the right height to bend over and it had straps at each end of it. I asked Jerome what it was and he told me it was a fuck bench.

The next thing I know I’m being led on stage and stripped. Then I am bent over that bench and strapped to it. The announcer then tells everybody that I am tonight’s initiate and to begin initiation.

The first cock went straight into my mouth. Then I felt something cold between my ass cheeks and a finger pushing it into me. I found out and was lube and would be very thankful for it. Once the cock in my mouth was hard it moved to my ass. Someone then put something under my nose and told me to breathe through my nose.

Once I did that I felt the cock at my ass push into it. As I opened my mouth to moan another cock filled it. Keep sucking this cocksucker so I can breed your ass next. I had no choice but the poppers were doing their job as I was quite horny and began enjoying all of this.

Soon I felt that cock in my ass breed me deeply. When it pulled out the one in my mouth moved right in and another cock pushed into my mouth. I was truly being spit roasted and it felt soooooooo good. I wanted more. I got more, much more as big black cocks kept fucking me at both ends for over an hour. Then it was over and I was taken off the bench.

Jerome took me back to our table and gave me another drink. Here he said, you probably need this. I took it and swallowed it all down. So he asked, how do you like things so far. I told him I was loving it and wanted more. Oh you will be getting more before this night ends, lots more.

I saw a big black man walking towards me and wondered what was happening. Is he ready for round two he asked Jerome. Oh yes he is ready for it. This guy then told me to follow him.

He led me back to the stage where they now had a sling set up. He put me into it and dropped his pants. I saw the biggest and blackest cock ever. He lined it up with my ass and pushed into me. Once I was fully impaled he just stood there and started to push the sling so I was slowly being moved on and off that beautiful cock. He fucked me like this for a long time before pulling the sling all the way towards him and unloaded a huge load of cum into me.

When he finally stopped breeding me he pulled his cock out and a flood of cum gushed out. Okay everyone, he is all yours. Then he left me there and cock after cock fucked and bred me over and over.

When it finally ended I heard someone say it’s time to mark him as ours and I was bent over a bench and a Jack of Spades tattoo was put on my ass. Then Jerome had me get dressed and took me home. You need to rest tomorrow and then be at the club the following night. Your are going to be quite popular there.

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