Fill Up

It’s Thanksgiving. I’m with my family. More about another exciting family weekend later.

Drove up to The Ranch. Grandparent’s owned the ranch for decades. It’s no longer the money machine it was in it’s day, but it’s self-supporting. The Ranch is also our “family compound.” Holidays are all held here. Miss out on a holiday and we will talk about you.

Almost there. I stop for gas in the middle of nowhere. It’s dusk. The sun has set. There’s still some light. The place has a lone attendant. He’s young and cute. He offers to put air in my tires. Why not? There is a pump in the front, but he motions me to the back.

He squats to put air in my front tire. He makes sure I can see his big package. Bending over for the rear tire, he shows off his ass. The kid is not subtle at all. His redish hair gets darker as the light dims. However, his beautiful smile radiates.

Standing up, he asks if I need anything else. He’s hard. His pants look as if they’re about to burst open. I bite: “Yeah, what’s in your pants?” I feel like I’m in a bad 70’s porno.

I move forward. He seems surprised that I’m unzipping his pants. When his warm dick flops into the cool evening air, he gasps. I play with it. Our faces are close together put he won’t look at me. I kiss his cheek. My lips scrape on his stubble. I move to his neck and nibble. He gasps again.

I think he’s dreamed about doing this, but it’s never happened. Baby, I’m gonna make your fantasy come true. I rub his muscled chest and arms through his old T-shirt.

I drop to my knees and pull his fat cock into my mouth. Hard before, he’s now like a rock. I can barely get it away from his stomach. I slurp for a few seconds and he unleashes his load. Thick and chunky. A lot of it. I milk him completely. Every drop is savored and swallowed.

Standing up, I move to kiss him. He turns away. There is no fucking way that he’s getting off without getting me off. I nibble on his neck as I tuck his junk back in his pants. I ask him if he wants to blow me. He mentions about going back to work.

Not. Gonna. Happen.

I unzip. Semi-hard, it’s out in a second. Moving forward, I slip it into his pants. I thrust forward. My cock slides through his flannel boxers and amongst his dick; his balls. It’s a tight area, so it feels warm and nice. I’m horny, so this won’t take long.

Thrusting forward, I grab the back of his neck and pull our faces together. We are breathing heavy on each other. So close to kissing. He won’t. Straigh-boy shit. My cock is rubbing against his bush and down to his balls. The soft underwear is rubbing against the other side. Feels nice. He’s getting hard again.

I hear a car pull up to the pumps and honk.

He tells me to stop. I just grunt and keep thrusting. My face is buried in his neck. He smells like grease and sweat. It makes me hornier.

The car honks again.

I thrust faster and harder. I tell him to grab my ass. He doesn’t. I say it louder. Out of fear, he grabs it and pulls me close.

“Anyone here?!” someone yells.

“Pluh… pluh… please.” He grunts.

I think I hear the guy approaching. I nut. It’s been a few days. Big load. Very wet. That makes me smile.

I push away. “Customer,” I nod to the front.

The kid runs off, zipping up his pants.

I drive around the corner. The kid is filling the tank of some SUV. I can clearly see the wet stains around his crotch. I dropped quite a load. I drive off rather proud of myself.

If tradition holds, that will be the first load of many this weekend. And if my luck holds, I’ll need to get some air in my tires on the trek home Sunday.

Friday Negotiations

Friday negotiations are the worst. The entire weekend gets put on hold in case a compromise isn’t met. I don’t know who scheduled it this way, but I want to find them and hurt them.

We’re negotiating the absorption of a smaller company. Actually, it’s closer to a hostile takeover. These guys are not happy—neither am I. I’m stuck in this room with a bunch of guys in suits. I’ve got a five day backup in my balls. Fantasies abound.



It’s Monday and I’m heading home from work. I catch a drink at a sleazy bar near work. The guys are hot, but they are avoiding the asshole in the suit: me. Frustrated, I leave.

I cut through a notoriously dangerous alley on my way back to my car. I’ve gotten more action in this alley than I’ve been mugged, so I’m willing to risk it. I pass by two couples who are going for it, big time. One couple is fucking: pants down to their ankles, leaning against the wall and groaning like animals. They are in clear view of the street.

The other couple, not too far from the first, also have their pants down, and jerking each other off. Right underneath the lamp to the delivery door. The older guy is chewing on a younger guy’s neck. The younger guy is looking at me. I’m sure he can only see that someone is walking by and this exhibitionist is getting off on it.

I continue on.

I see a guy standing just beyond the reach of one of the few working lamps. Jeans, t-shirt, leaning back, one leg against the wall. It’s a cliché for whore, but that’s what I’m looking for.

I walk over. He’s not too tall, nice body—but not too built—dark hair, and looks mostly harmless. I run my hand across his t-shirt. I check his pecs and his abs. Nothing to write home about, but okay.

He says hello. I put my hand over his mouth. I slide my hand under his shirt: silky smooth. Nice. I cup his buldge. It grows with my grasp. I look into his eyes.



I stop. “How old are you?” He tells me 21. Bullshit. I reach back and grab his wallet. I push him back and flip the wallet open in the light. 18. From Missouri. I hand him back his wallet. Fuck, now that I’ve got a better look at him, he looks like a little kid.

“Do you know where you are and what the fuck you’re doing?” I hiss. He’s traveling with his dad. Tells me he’s been doing it since he was 15. “Are we doing this or not?” he whispers.

I squat in front of him. His jeans are tight around his hard buldge. I lift his shirt, his cock is poking up, the head out above his waistband. I give it a lick.

I kiss his stomach as I undo his belt and jeans. No underwear. His ample dick doesn’t move. He’s fully hard against his stomach. I pull it down and begin sucking on it. I move down the shaft and bury my nose in his pubes. Pulling back, I feel his foreskin. Ah, farmboys and their thick uncut dicks.

I suck for a while on his dick, playing with the foreskin, gently licking and sucking on the head, playing with the shaft. He’s got a nice dick. It deserves to be treated right. His balls have tightened, so I stop. I don’t want him to blow and leave me hanging.

I stand. I don’t have to push on his shoulders, he drops automatically. He pulls out my rod and strokes it to bring it to full arousal. The kid respects the cock. He treats it well: gentle kisses, soft strokes, no teeth.

He quickly finds a nice rhythm. I place my hands on his shoulders and let him go. I’m pumping his face. He’s good. Too good. I feel my balls stir. I give him a warning. He keeps sucking. I tell him I’m close. He sucks harder.

My insides turn. I feel the build up. I’m so God-damned close—it feels so great. I grunt and nut in his mouth.

The boy does not stop. He keeps pumping until my shaft is drained. He stands. I lean in and kiss him. He seems surprised. I guess guys that fuck in alleys don’t kiss.

I see a red flash.

The cops have busted one of the couples at the end of the alley. I bend over and take the kid’s rod in my mouth. I’m not sure if I’m going to get him there, so I tell him to jack off in my mouth. He does. Big load.

We zip up and head out away from the cops. They will be driving down here in a minute.

The kid follows me for a while. At a stoplight, I look at him. Shit. He’s even younger looking than I thought. Cuter, too. I end up giving him a ride home. I think we say six words to each other total, including “thanks” and “good bye.”

My Monday nut feels very far away.

I’m not at the big table in our largest conference room. That’s for the big boys. I sit on the side with a member of my team, waiting to present. I have to stay all day in case questions come up that my team’s research and analysis can answer.

I end up making my presentation at 3:00pm. My team looks awesome. Every question has a ready response. I know a few guys at my company do not like it when one group shines. We fucking glimmer, so they throw some curve balls. Todd—a numbers machine—fires back at each question perfectly. We’re so good, I got a little wood.

We break at 6:30. Dinner wasn’t planned so we decide to break for two hours. The big guys head off somewhere together—their assistants frantically calling airlines, hotels, etc. to make changes.

I meet with my team for ten. We discuss any needed further research. Todd takes it on. I order the team pizza and decide to go for a run.

My run does not take me on my normal route. I find myself heading towards a bar I know. A bar with a notoriously filthy backroom. Usually, it’s not busy at this hour, but on Fridays, it does okay.

I walk in to the bar and start for the back. Standing at the counter are two guys we are taking over. We chat. They clearly know where they are and what they are doing. They ask if I’m going into the back. “That’s why I’m here.”

I leave them and go behind the heavy leather curtains.

The area is dark, save for a red lamp in the corner. One guy is jacking off. Nice dick, but I decide to move on.



The room angles back into an blue light. I head back there. Five guys are standing around jacking off watching two guys going at it. None of them are that interesting.



I go further back towards the dim amber light. Two suits are back there. Long, thick cocks hanging. It’s as if they are waiting for me. Both are older—late 40’s/early 50’s. Great shape. Handsome.

One of them is clearly the Alpha male. Just a bit better than the other guy: bigger, more handsome, better hung, uncut. I kneel onto the dirty floor before him and pull out my dong. If the other guy were there alone, I would have gladly jumped on his dick. He pales in comparison to this god-of-a-man. It’s good to be the King.

I don’t grab at his dick. He may not want me. I open my mouth and look up. He answers by sticking his meat in my mouth. King grabs my head and pulls my face forward and mumbles something. His hands block my ears.



King pumps my face. I open wide and let him fuck the hole. I run my hands over his muscled thighs. I would love to drop his pants and lick them, but I don’t think he wants his $600 slacks hitting the filthy floor: as I shift, I can feel the dried cum on the floor.

I reach over and grab onto his buddy’s dong. He’s rock hard. I push a little, and feel his big balls. It doesn’t take long for King to unload. He starts fucking a little faster and then dumps in my mouth. I drain King and start to turn to Buddy.



Buddy starts cumming before I can get to his dong. The first shot hits my neck, the second my lips. I catch the remaining shots. Buddy never makes a sound. I can’t even hear him breathing.

The two zip up and leave without a word.

I stand and turn around. Another guy is in the room. Not my type at all. He reaches for my dick. I push him away. He tries again. I smack his hand. He tries again. I raise my fist.

He smiles.



Bitch likes the abuse. I grab him by the throat and move him to the corner. I tell him to sit—he drops instantly. “Stay, bitch, stay.” I command. “You move when I tell you.” I tell him to pull it out—if he’s lucky, I’ll piss on him later. He moans “thank you, sir.”

Putz.

I spit on him. He laughs. Whatever.

I turn back and a barista my Starbucks is there. I have cruised this guy for months—he never gives me a second look. He’s looking today. I’m not sure if it’s King’s cum or the adrenaline from commanding Pussy to do as my bidding, but I’m ON.



I wave him over and point at my dick. He drops and is on it. I run my hands through his hair. I always thought it was too long, right now it feels good. His mouth is fantastic. He takes it all down. Barista treats my dick right. But he doesn’t forget my balls or taint. Good customer service.

The two guys I saw from the meeting walk back. Their dicks aren’t out, but they are hard. Pussy asks if he can suck them. I spit at Pussy and tell him to shut the fuck up. He thanks me. I notice that Pussy has his dick out. It’s fucking huge. I’m still not into him, but I gotta give respect to a giant schlong.

I wave the guys over. They do a double take on Pussy. The two guys have a similar build. 6’1”, 190, brown/brown. They are nice looking ,but one is clearly more handsome than the other. Handsome pulls out his dick. It’s decent. Definitely suckable. The Other One pulls out his dick. Very thick. Definitely fuckable.



I push Barsita off my rod and onto The Other One. I drop and take Handsome’s dick into my mouth. Pussy moans loudly. His dick stinks. Total musk. I lick his crotch clean and suck on his hairy balls. His cock is oozing precum. Like me, he’s a big dripper. I pull his shaft into my mouth and try and suck all the precum out of it.

The Other One nuts. His moan is high pitched and a little annoying. “Ee-ee-eeh! Ee-ee-eeh! Ee-ee-eeh!” I guess Handsome likes that because he blows too. His load is surprisingly plentiful.



I stand. Handsome starts to pull away. I grab his hand and pull down. He does not want to reciprocate and resists. I lean forward, “You want a job when we take over?” I have no power, but after shining at that meeting today, he thinks I might.

I move to the wall, so I can sit on the high bench. He won’t have to kneel and ruin his slacks. I pull my cock out through the leg whole, so I’m not sitting bare assed on years of DNA. He sucks well. His hands rub my thighs as he swallows my cock.

I look over at Barista and The Other One. Barista is begging for something. The Other One is resisting. I have no idea what the discussion is, but Barista is almost crying.

Pussy says something. The Other One and I shout “shut the fuck up” in unison. I hock a loogi. The Other One follows in kind. Pussy is happy again.

Handsome is really into my balls. Yeah, they’re big, and he fucking loves them. He pulls slightly on them which makes me quiver.

The Other One is obliging Barista’s request: he’s pissing in his mouth. Barista is leaning back and The Other One is letting a stream of warm piss flow into Barista’s waiting throat.



That’s it for me: I nut onto Handsome’s handsome face. No warning. Just jizz. He stuffs my cock into his mouth to get the remains of my load.

He moves up to look me in the eye. “Did I pass the interview?”

I tell him I probably won’t have any decision in the matter—but I will give him a stellar recommendation. He smiles.

We start to leave. Pussy is still in the corner. He let’s out a disappointed sigh. I look over and ask why he’s still sitting there.

“Get the fuck out here!”

I drag him back into the large red-lighted room. There’s a small crowd in there—nothing like it will be later tonight, but decent. I command him to drop his pants. “Show these real men your only worth!” I hold him by his collar and demand he show them his worthless load.

I ask him if he needs some lube. I don’t wait for an answer and spit on his dick. Handsome and The Other One shoot some slobber onto his schlong as well. I’m pulling so hard on his collar, I think he’s about to lift off the floor. I offer him as a spit bag for the other men standing around. Some cute kid spits in his face and Pussy unloads a huge amount of splooge onto my running shoes.



I immediately have him lick it off.

I run back to the office. I shower, change and make it back into the meeting about 10 minutes late. Handsome and The Other One saved a seat for me. I sit with my team—I can’t be distracted.

We make final agreements at 3:00am. The deal is solid.

I go to shake Handsome’s hand. He slips me his business card and his hotel key. The room number is on the business card. I’m tired.

But not that tired.

Details are a little more fuzzy on Handsome alone. Quick breakdown: we fuck. Fall asleep. Fuck. Sleep. Fuck. Sleep. Eat. Fuck. Fuck, again. Sleep. Fuck. Missing one hotel checkout and two flights back to Chicago.

I should find out who scheduled those meetings on Friday… and thank them.

You Are Now Entering The Seventh Level of Hell

I'm surprised. I thought I had the ninth level of Hell locked up. I gotta try harder.

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Seventh Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Very Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	Extreme
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Very High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Extreme
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Extreme
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Extreme
Level 7 (Violent)	Extreme
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Extreme
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Extreme

Take the Dante's" Divine Comedy Inferno Test

Ted Colunga: Magnificent Bastard

I love Ted Colunga. He went by the name Giovanni in a Brendon Marley BJ video. Brendon couldn’t take it all. I immediately fell in lust with the guy.

The name sucks. Totally unconvincing for a Hungarian to be named that. I don’t know who came up with that name, but they suck.

Apparently, he’s former military—he’s 5’11” with 10” of thick Hungarian meat between his legs. I want to fuck the living hell out of this guy.

I still haven’t finished typing up Vegas. Plus, two more really nice hookups. (And three shit ones.) Until then, enjoy some Ted:

Stories to Tell

I got back from Vegas on Monday. Still processing the weekend. Fucked more than I have in my life. Dick hurts. Serioiusly, hurts. Made some friends. Won some money. Lost a lot of jizz. Went to a Vegas version of a party. Makes the parties here seem like a little old lady tea party.

Stories will be told. Still resting.

Total Cock Worship Monday

Monday. Dry weekend. I’m horny as hell. I need cum. I need it bad. I call my assistant. I’m going to be late. Move meetings, etc. I start work earlier than most. By the time everyone else gets there, I’m way ahead. Today I need to feed.

I call a few fuck buddies. Either their phones are off or their asleep. I leave messages all over: “I want to suck you off.” I’m seriously bummed. I even think about heading into work.

Then I hear Mike’s motorcycle.

Mike is a hottie. I’ve known him since he was in college. Not sure how we met. He constantly asks me for advice. He’s somewhat straight and totally insecure. He has a small dick. Not quite five inches. Not too thick. We occasionally talk about it. His insecurity has cost him girlfriends. His small dick doesn’t bother them as much as it bothers him.

Mike sucks dick because it gets him close to big dicks. Dicks he wishes he had. He’s good at sucking. I can tell he enjoys it. I like guys like Mike. I know they’ll keep coming back. Guys that are just horn dogs will eventually decide to play it straight. One day, they just stop coming.


Pete was like that. Handsome. Great bod. Nice dick. Liked to fuck around. Loved having me blow him. I hadn’t seen him in a while when he walks up to me at Safeway. We chat for a second. Then he drops the bomb: he won’t be coming around anymore. Met a great girl, etc. She’s at the end of the aisle. I wave to her. She waves back.

I ask him if he’s in love. Pete says yes. I ask him if the sex is great. He nods. Then the big question: “Does she suck cock as well as I do?” He pauses before giving an unconvincing “Yeah… it’s different.”

I wish him well. He starts to turn away. I stop him. “You know what the difference is between her giving you head and me?” He shrugs. “She loves you… while I…” I step forward to make my point, “I worship your cock.” The truth stuns him: He will never get a mind-blowing blow job again. He stands there as I walk away. When I turn at the end of the aisle, his girlfriend is looking at him concerned, holding his face. She looks to me as if to say, “What the fuck did you say to him?”

The truth, baby. I told him the truth.

Mike is in HVAC. Starts in the late morning. He tells me he has plenty of time. I tell him I just want to blow him and send him on his way. He’ll go for that.

I do him in the entry. Against the door. I pull down his grungy work pants. I swallow his already hard dick.

Mike is compact. Maybe 5’7” and 165. Not much hair, Kinda cute. Full, pouty lips. Those lips are perfect for sucking cock. Today, he won’t need them. I run my hand up his chest as I lick his dick. I slobber all over it. I slurp. I gulp. His balls are small, too. I play with his fuzzy nuts. He moans softly.

I pump my face down onto his dick. He moans a little louder. I grab his hands. I put them on the back of my head. He doesn’t get my point. I pull off and look up. His eyes are closed. He’s got this beatific look on his face. I hate to pull him out of it. I go back to slurping on his cock.


After a few minutes I pull off again. I tell him to fuck my face. Mike gently pumps a few times. I pull off again. “Fuck. My. Face.” I start pumping down on his dick again. This time he gets it. He grips the hair on my head and begins to fuck my face. His movements are short. Quick. A longer dick would choke me, maybe even hurt me. I can easily breathe.

Mike starts whispering as he gets closer to nutting. He starts to talk a little louder… then louder. “Take it, take it, take it!” He gurgles when he cums. Not sure where that comes from. It can be disconcerting if you’re not used to it. Sometimes even when you are.

I swallow his spunk. There isn’t much there. Poor guy, small all over.

I remain on my knees as he catches his breath. I gently kiss the light fur his flat stomach. Small kisses thanking him for feeding me. He taps my shoulder. “Gotta go,” he says. Ah, straight-boy guilt. Fine. Go. You’ll be back.

He zips up. Says “thanks” for the hundredth time. I ask for a kiss. He gives me a quick peck. Ah, straight boys… I hug him and kiss his neck. He likes that. He gives me a longer kiss. Closed mouth. But decent.

He hops on his motorcycle and zooms away.

I go out to get the paper and I see Brian riding by on his bike. He looks good in bicycle shorts. Too good. He pulls over. Returning after a long early morning ride. He’s back for the weekend from football camp. “Good for the quads,” he smiles. His quads look amazing in red bicycle shorts. So does his giant package.

I ask him if he’s got time. He does. We go in.

The phone rings. It’s Rick. He’s driving by on his way to the gym. Will my offer still stand in an hour and a half? “Absolutely.” He asks about “the stud on the bike.” I tell him he won’t be there when he arrives. “Pity.”

I hang up. Brian is all over me. I tell him I just feel like blowing him today. He begs for more. I tell him I’m not in the mood. It’s a lie. I don’t feel like getting fucked by his massive dick today. Today I want to pray at the altar of cock.

Brian grabs me and hugs me tight. He smothers me with kisses. He stinks. The bike ride has left him smelling a bit ripe. I’m not sure when the last time he’s washed his riding kit, but it turns me on.


He takes off his shorts and jock. He heads to the living room. He drops in the big leather chair.

Brian is already hard. His dick is laying flat on his hairy belly. I kneel before him and pull it forward. Just before I put his giant schlong into my mouth, I look up at him. He looks so happy. My mission is to keep that expression on his face.

I take him into my mouth. From tiny Mike to huge Brian. Man, what an incredible difference. Sucking on his massive cock is instense. It fills every bit of my mouth. His giant, pulsating monster-cock is stretching my mouth and throat. There’s still a handful and a half left. My mouth is in serious salivation mode. I’m slurping all over this monster. My hands follow my mouth so his whole shaft is constantly surrounded.

My whole world is his huge cock. Nothing else matters. I am at home. I am at peace. I want only one thing: to worship that dick. To praise it to heaven above and to drink its essence. Finally, it gives forth.

Brian groans. “Bruiser” pumps out thick ropes of cum. I pull back to allow for my mouth to fill with his seed. It spills out from my lips. It runs down his shaft. It leaks onto his pubes and stomach. I wait until the flow stops before slurping up all the excess. Taking the last bit into my mouth, I gently kiss his muscled thigh. “Thank you,” I mutter.

“No,” Brian says, “Thank you.” I want to correct him and tell him I was thanking God for letting me suck on such a divine cock. Instead, I just smile. I don’t want it to end. I find myself giving his thick shaft small, loving kisses. I’m hoping he wants another go. An excited knock on the door breaks the spell.

I can’t help but think of the remarkable luck in timing I’m having: one guy cums, another one comes…

Shamus is a bartender at a local Irish Pub. He looks a lot older than his 28 years. But he’s got a body and a dick like few others. We hooked up a few months back in a clumsy, drunken episode. I’m ashamed I can’t remember much more than while we thought we were having a secret tryst in the supply closet, the door was open and people were taking pictures. I know this because every week I get email with a picture from some dude’s phone with the message: “Is that you”? I don’t remember fucking him. Pictures don’t lie. He thoroughly was enjoying it.


Brian is bookended by two small guys. Shamus is a wee bit smaller than Mike: 5’4” and maybe 140. He’s a thin bloke. He’s got ginger hair all over—lighter than Red. Owns an oddly curved member. Shamus also sports a dead sexy, thick Irish brogue.


Before I can even shut the door, Shamus is all over me. I remember him being a fantastic kisser. He’s keeping that memory alive. He says something. I can’t understand it. We work our way to the stairs. He sees Brian standing in the living room. Brian is fully dressed. Shamus is not. He’s dropped his pants. He is standing in my entry, naked and “pointing” at the dining room. Brian nods to Shamus. Gives me pat on the shoulder. A nod to Shamus’ member. He’s out the door.

Shamus asks if he’s interrupted. I think that’s what he says. The accent is thick. He talks fast. I shrug. I pull off his shirt. Sweet. I rub my hands all over his body. I feel every inch of his hairy torso. The fur makes him look thick and healthy, instead of just skinny. I set him on the stairs so I can work my way down to his cock when the doorbell rings.

I met Paul at a Party a few years back and we hook up every now and again. I didn’t remember calling him. In my attempt to get some action I called a lot of people. Paul sees the naked and very excited Shamus on my stairs.


“How many dudes did you call?” I lie and tell him three and Shamus was the first to show. He rolls his eyes. He asks where he should wait. I yank my leprechaun off the stairs and tell Paul to stay put. Paul and I have hooked up at enough at parties for him to know I’m worth the wait. So is he. He’s got a big unit.

“Should I take a number?” he asks while I drag Shamus into the living room. Shamus doesn’t say a word. This might be normal for him. Who knows? He’s reaching for my cock in my boxers but I tell him “no.” I tell him I just want to suck him off—he looks disappointed. Next time.

I sit him in the same chair that Brian was just in and almost laugh. Brian is 6’5” and filled the chair with his muscular frame. Poor Shamus looks lost in it. His cock, however, is a lot like Brian’s. I smile. I tell him we need to be quick, since Paul is waiting. “Who doesn’t love a quick gobbler?”

I assume that’s good.

I kneel before his shillelagh. I take it into my mouth. Probably as long as Brian’s. Not as thick. Much easier to take. Even with the bend. I rub my hands up his hairy torso. I drop my head deeper and deeper into Shamus’ lap, taking more of his cock into my mouth; my throat. With every inch into my mouth Shamus says something I can’t understand. I’m worried I’m going to laugh. Every time he speaks I try to figure out what he’s saying. It distracts me from the task at hand. All I can think of are clichés. I swear at one point he yelled “Top of the mornin’ to ya!” Not sure as it was garbled and his hands were on my ears.

Shamus worked the night before. He still smells of beer and cigarettes. He has a musk that is intoxicating. Not dirty. A bit of sweat that belongs to a hard working man. It’s all over his shaft. I’m determined to suck it off him.

I suck his balls for a while. I nibble on the two delicious, hairy globes. Then to his taint. More musky goodness. He lifts his legs. He offers up his hairy hole. My tongue dives in. I chew on his hole while stroking the long shaft.

He shouts “Mary, Mother of God!” Also, something that sounds like “may the road rise up to meet ya.” I feel his cock pulsate rhythmically in my hand. He cries out. I shove my tongue deeper into his hole. He clamps down on it. I can actually feel his cock get harder as he cums.

I pull my tongue from his ass. I take his shaft in my mouth. It is still throbbing. I catch the last shot of jizz from the glans. His furry chest and stomach are covered with cum. His cock bends naturally out of the way as I suck the spunk from the fur. Cleansed of his load, I give him a kiss.

He smiles. Says something rapid and unintelligible. I kiss him again. He nods to the entry way and my other guest.

I’d briefly forgotten about Paul. I give Shamus’ still pulsating shaft two or three more tender kisses before I get up and walk to the hall.

Paul is not alone.

Sitting on the stairs with him is Davis—another guy I’ve hooked up with at a Party. The look in Paul’s eyes is both damning and admiring. I smile and ask, “Who’s next?”

Davis stands up. He’s so excited for this he forgets Paul was there first. Ever the gentleman, Paul actually says that “the kid” should go first. Hot and generous. He deserves—and will get—a really great BJ…

Shamus is looking for his shorts—Paul points to them in the corner. Shamus nods, mumbles something and leaves. Then rushes back in and gives me a quick kiss, “Give us a call!” Just as quickly, he is back out the door.

I look at the two guys and smile. Paul points to his chin. I wipe Shamus’ seed from my chin. “Better get going, kid,” he deadpans, “before the next rush of immigrants.”

Davis is not so much young as he is immature—at least in the ways of gay sex. He’s Mormon, went to BYU, got married, became a lawyer and then realized he was gay. His family is BIG in the Church. He can’t come out. They did allow him to divorce and—as long as he’s discreet—he can pretty much do whatever he wants.

He is naïve on a lot of issues in regards to homosexuality. Innocence combined with a hot body makes him adorable. Thick blonde hair. Piercing blue-eyes. Davis is so clean-cut he practically squeaks. He stands before me in a full suit and tie. Paul, left his jacket in the car—why would he need it? Davis is always properly dressed.


Davis likes the idea that Paul is there watching. I remain in the hallway—Paul sitting up higher on the stairs, near the first landing. Davis is on the bottom step. Davis likes to be completely naked for any kind of sex. We once had sex in his truck. I’m there with my schlong hanging out of my pants and he’s buck naked.

I remove Davis’ jacket & tie and place them on the bench in the entry. He’ll be distracted the whole time if he thinks his clothes are getting wrinkled. We all have issues.

Paul snaps his fingers. He wants to move things along. He takes the remaining clothes and places them on the landing. Seconds later, Davis stands in his garments—the Mormon underwear. They are beyond unattractive. It only works on him because he’s so fucking cute. I pull the shirt portion off. Then come the underpants.

Davis stands before me naked. He looks so innocent—except for the perfect raging hard-on. His cock is beautiful—average by most counts. But big and thick enough to thoroughly enjoy. Not much hair to speak of, besides the untamed bush. He’s in great shape. I’m craving his perky nipples. He sits on the stairs. Leans back into Paul, who puts his hands on his shoulders and gives him a peck on the neck.

Davis likes to kiss. I give him a long slow kiss. His hands are all over me, exploring me, grabbing at my cock. I move down. I nibble on his neck. I push him back to Paul. Paul and I kiss. I know where this is going. So does Paul. I nibble on Davis’ chest, chewing and biting on his nipples. Moving from one to the other. They are hard and perky. He is definitely hard-wired into them. He makes the funny noises when I chew on them. I know there is enough deodorant in his pits to choke a horse. I move down.

I love his hairy bush. Very few men don’t trim even just a little. Davis does not trim at all. I really enjoy that about him. I take his cock deep so that my nose is buried in his pubes. Contrasting to Shamus, he smells clean—like Irish Spring!

I kneel before him. Rubbing his thighs. Playing with his balls and taint. Working up to his asshole takes a lot of time. I’ve fucked him twice. Both times it was wonderful, but exhausting on an emotional level. When he’s fucked me, he was wild, intense and non-stop. Davis can go and go and go—more aptly: cum and cum and cum.

His dick and balls are perfect. I get lost in the enjoyment of them. I treat them with such reverence, I forget myself. They are not enormous, but the shape, color, texture, and taste are amazing. If there is absolute perfection in this world, sucking on Davis’ dick is it.

I pull off to admire his cock. I hear some serious cock sucking. Davis is laying back on the stairs, while Paul is feeding his ample cock to Davis—by kneeling above him, and leaning forward while holding onto the handrail for support. Paul and I are practically face-to-face. We kiss.

I tell him I want his cum. “You’ll get it.” He closes his eyes. Davis is doing right by his cock.

I go back sucking on Davis’ balls for a short while. Perfect, hairy globes. I tease them with my tongue, I pull on them with my mouth. One, then the other… then both. With Davis, not only do I love his dick, but his balls as well. I’m furiously beating his thick rod.

Paul groans. He announces he’s going to blow. He tells Davis not to swallow. “Save it… share it…” and then he nuts. Still holding the handrails, he pumps into Davis’ mouth. It spills out. He pulls out and shoots a line of jizz straight down Davis’ torso. I lean in. I smell it. I lick it up.

Spent, Paul pushes himself back and rests near the first landing. Davis sits up and our mouths meet. We share Paul’s spunk. It’s delicious. As I’m snowballing Davis, I feel his cock tense and he throws his head back. I move down. I catch his heavy load. Davis shoots five or six thick shots right into my mouth. I swallow him hungrily. The little that drips down, I slurp up.

We sit on the stairs, panting. I’m exhausted. I haven’t nutted yet, but I’m spent. Paul zips up and zips out, almost without a word. Davis dresses and quietly leaves. Issues. Guilt. Whatever.

I decide I’d better shower. I head upstairs. The doorbell rings. Damn. I forgot about Rick. Usually, he’s at my backdoor. (No pun intended.) It’s not Rick. It’s Andrew.

Andrew is in love with me. Every time we fuck he tells me he loves me at least three times. I just say “I know.” It’s not that he’s not hot. I just don’t love him. Andrew is about my height with a nice bod. He’s cute, with a sweet dick and solid balls. He has a perfect, perfect ass. He loves to get fucked and takes it well.


Because he’s so available, there is no chase. No challenge. He offers himself fully. Completely. The sex is good. Everything else is boring. He’s incredibly jealous. We’ve never dated. Still he’s jealous of anyone else I fuck. Whatever.

He sees my hard-on right away. He assumes it’s for him. In a way, it is. We kiss. An excellent kisser. By far the best. Passionate and hard; soft and loving. It’s always great.

We continue to kiss. He’s naked almost instantly. We’re upstairs in a flash. He’s on the bed sucking my cock. I’ve held it all morning. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out. I know I’ll only have one nut today. I’m late for work. No going for seconds. I push him off. I dive for his dick. He tastes good. Not too clean. A little musky. I devour his dick like I haven’t sucked anything for days. He cums. I swallow. It’s delicious.

I start kissing my way up when I hear Rick downstairs. “Anybody home?” I look at Andrew. I tell him to wait. “I got a package arriving…” I think I’m clever with my double entendre…

Rick is in the kitchen. He’s sweaty from the gym. Damn. He’s gorgeous. Early 50’s, looks 30’s. Masculine. Sexy as fucking hell. We kiss. Not as good as Andrew, but he’s got my dick aching.


I yank off his shirt. I start licking those pits. They’re ripe. They’re delicious. I devour them. I work my way down his sparsely hairy chest to his shorts. I pull out his thick cock. I mention Andrew. I tell him we need to be quick. He wants to go up and join in. I tell him he needs to blow and go.

“Fine. Suck it.” I do as he commands.


I pull his foreskin back and suck on his thick rod. Cheesy. Delicious. I pull the foreskin forward and delve my tongue in. I roll it around the glans. He gasps. Rick likes. I play with the head until he is swaying. I take it all the way down and grab onto his muscled ass. He nuts in my throat.

Rick curses when he cums. It’s quiet. It’s nasty. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck you. Fucking asshole. Fucking douchebag. Fuck you. Fuck…” I swallow. I love it.

I stand and give his cock one last loving tug as I head upstairs. Any other day I’d wear that bastard out. He stops me and gives me a kiss. He thanks me. I nod and run upstairs.

Andrew is on the bed. Waiting. Arms behind his head. He’s hard again. He tries to kiss me. I realize I have Rick’s scent all over me. Hell, even I can smell it. I turn him over and start eating his ass. I tongue him hard and deep. He is groaning loud enough I worry about neighbors hearing. I don’t stop.

He begs me to fuck him.

I open the nightstand to get the lube and condoms. He tells me he wants to bareback. “I want your seed in me.” I continue putting on the condom. He tells me he wants me to truly be inside him. He tells me he loves me.

“I know, baby.” I roll on the condom.

I put him on his back. Pillow under his ass. That perfect, tight hole staring at me. I start to put it in. He pushes back. “Take off the condom.” I push forward. He cries out. I tell him to relax. Again, he tells me he loves me… and wants my seed.


I put my hand on his chest. I lean forward. I kiss him gently. He relaxes. I’m in. I kiss him again. “Please…” he begs. I shake my head. I’m getting mad. Let me fuck you, I think. He whispers, “I haven’t been with anyone else…”

“I have.” He tenses. I let it out. “Andy, baby… I’ve blown six guys… today. One of them downstairs while you waited. When I kissed you a minute ago—that wasn’t your ass, on my lips. That was his.”

He’s stunned. He’s hurt. I see a tear. Do I stop?

No.

“Baby, I’m a fucking whore for dick. I worship it. I love sucking it. I love swallowing cum. Give me a dick—any dick—and I’ll drink his seed. You don’t know where I’ve been. The condom stays.”

He’s crushed. A tear drips from his eye. I lean in close. I push further in him. “You still love me?” He closes his eyes. Tears quietly pour out.

Game.

Set.

Match.

He opens his eyes as I thrust hard into him. I start to fuck him hard. All the while I’m looking in his eyes. He tries looking away. I move my head so he’s looking at me. “Huh, baby? Still love me?”

I’m a fucking asshole.

I’m pounding his hole hard. He keeps looking away. I keep moving to make eye contact. We’re shifting. His head is hanging over the side of the bed. He is groaning. Maybe he’s sobbing. I can’t tell. It’s loud. He’s matching my thrusts. It’s angry. He hates me. That makes me harder.

I lean forward. My mouth to his ear: “Of all the guys today… you’re the only one I’ve wanted to fuck.” He groans loader. He pulls me close. “Still love me, baby.”

“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” It’s Rick. He’s at the door watching us. Andrew tells me to stop. I just fuck harder. Rick walks over. He runs his hand up my leg, ass, back… I stop fucking.

Rick introduces himself. His thick cock is hanging inches from our faces. He asks Andrew to suck on it. Andrew looks away. “I bet RL will do it…”

I do. I’m going to hell. Andrew is pinned beneath me, still impaled on my shaft. I suck on Rick’s dick. I stop. I ask Andrew to suck on it. I give him a kiss… “Please… If you really love me…” He does. If you need me, I’ll be in the farthest reaches of hell.

Andrew’s head hanging over the bed makes it easy for Rick to fuck his face. I continue pounding his ass, while Rick punishes his beautiful face. After a short while in Andrew’s talented mouth, Rick pulls out and nuts all over Andrew and me.

Andrew loves to be cum on. Just as Rick blows, Andrew spews. It’s a small pool in the cum gutters that are his abs.

My cock is in serious overload. I can’t hold anymore. This is going to be intense. I want to nut inside Andrew’s tight hole. But I want to see this load even more. I know it will be magnificent.

I pull out. I yank off the condom and fling it across the room. Three hard pumps and I begin to spray thick ropes of spunk all over Andrew’s beautiful body. The first, sprays a continuous thick rope from his belly button to his forehead. The second rope, shoots past him and smacks Rick’s abs. The rest of the ropes land squarely on Andrew’s torso. I don’t think I have ever cum as much in a night full of heavy sex as I did in this one orgasm. The boy is drenched.

I’m shaking. I’m spent. I can’t speak. I lay on top of Andrew. The loads mix together between our two bodies. I feel it. I revel in our spunk. I roll him on top of me. We kiss.

“I love you,” he says softly.

I reply as always, “I know.” I quickly add, “You’re the best.”

“I know.”

Owned

I hooked up with pilot Sunday. I think I need to adjust my attitude that I consider myself a top. I was his bitch all night.

Pilot is black. Tall and built. Early 40’s. Divorced three times. He can’t figure out why… He blames the exes. Yeah, it’s definitely their fault.

He fucks me hard. Screaming orgasms from both. He lays on the bed, spread-eagle. His big cock resting on his thigh. It pulses slightly.


I light him a cigarette. He likes that. I feel like some moll from a 40’s movie. The feeling lasts for only a second. My goddamned ass is twitching for more. I lick his neck. His pecks. His pits. He laughs. It amuses him. It does not turn him on.

Then I ask “The Question.”

He answers a resounding “No!” As always, he claims he doesn’t like it that much.

I plead. A few kisses… He doesn’t think it’s dignified. I know what the problem is: he feels it makes him gay. It’s odd. He can kiss me, suck me off (swallowing) and fuck my ass raw—but getting rimmed is “gay.” With most guys, I’d write it off. But his ass tastes so fine.

Eventually, he relents… after the cigarette.

He rolls over to extinguish the cigarette. That’s my opportunity. I move my mouth to his gorgeous ass. He’s got that black man’s ass that is so damn stunning: bubble, mostly muscle, but just enough fat to grab onto.

I get my tongue in there. I pull apart those two perfect deep, dark brown globes and tease that hole. I kiss it. I lick it. I French kiss it. All the while, pushing his cheeks into my face—creating more suction than he can stand.

He moans—loudly. I keep at it until his legs start twitching. That means he’s losing control. I made the mistake once of continuing on. He inadvertently kicked me off the bed. The man is a stallion.

I pull away. Pilot moves back. His asshole chasing my mouth. Seeming to offer up his ass. Wanting more. I reach forward for his ample cock. It is no longer hanging—it is flat against his six-pack abs. He turns over.


Pilot is hard as steel. The Beast is completely rigid and my mouth descends upon it. I lick. I suck. I drool all over the shaft. I also make sure that my fingers explore that asshole.

He calls out. He loves this. I love doing it to him.


I pull another condom out from the nightstand and slip it on him. Making sure he and I are both properly lubed, I move into position. Pilot lays flat, while I sit atop him and impale myself on his large endowment.

Christ, the thing is big.

I have to keep reminding myself to breathe.

“You okay, baby?” I nod—I can’t speak. I am at once in agony and euphoria. Pilot drops his hips. Instinctively, I move to follow by sitting fully upright and start to drop down onto the thick shaft. With a sudden, quick thrust, Pilot pushes his hips upward. Just as I am let go and drop down.


My mind explodes.

I black out. Pilot later says I’m speaking in tongues for ten minutes. I come to. Pilot has me on my stomach. A pillow gives my hips support. He’s holding my arms behind my back. He’s fucking me hard. Slamming with his full muscular force.


My shoulders ache. My legs are in pain. My asshole is being assaulted by a huge pounding cock. Pain engulfs my entire body. My cock aches it is so hard. The pillow is soaked with precum. He likes to pull all the way out and then ram The Beast back in. Do it. Do it now. Do it hard. The pain intensifies the pleasure.


Pilot releases my arms. He reaches around. Pulls me back to him. I think his cock goes in even deeper. He bites my neck hard. I will have horrible bruises later. I don’t care. Bit me, motherfucker.

He stops. Kisses my neck and pulls out. “Gotta pee,” he runs to the bathroom. I hear the condom snap off. “Hey,” Pilot calls from the john, “wanna hold it while I pee?”

It glistens off his body. He tells me to push down on it so he can pee. We stand there. Waiting. It pulses in my hand. It is not going down. I push down more. A tiny dribble comes out. “Damn,” he cries, “that’s worse. I gotta go more.”


I tell him that maybe I shouldn’t be holding it. He smiles. “Maybe you should be in front of it…” No. I don’t do piss. No interest. He knows this. I tell him no. Firmly. He grabs my arm. The circulation is cut off. “You want my dick in your pussy, boy?” He is not smiling. He’s serious.

I can’t look at him. I’m scared. My aching cock continues to drip precum from it’s engorged state.

He jerks my arm hard. “Well?” His voice is forceful and commanding. Looking down, I can only nod. With one quick motion, he yanks me onto the toilet. I look up. I’ve got tears in my eyes. I have to do this. I want that cock in me so bad.


I reach up and pull down. He softens slightly. I pull his head to my lips. Instinctively, I lick the head. The head enters my mouth… Pilot sighs…

The golden liquid passes onto my tongue. It’s hot. At first, it is easy to drink: a small trickle. Quickly, the stream goes stronger. It’s dribbling down my chin. Pilot laughs.

“Drink it, bitch.” My humiliation is complete. Or so I think.

Pilot pulls back. His piss splashes off my chest. I reach to take it back in my mouth. He steps back and aims for my face. “Don’t touch it,” he commands. I sit there as he bathes me in his warm urine.

I feel like it goes on forever. Pilot finishes. He stands back to look at his work. He laughs. Tears fall easily from my eyes.

“What a mess,” he says in disgust. He tells me to clean up the mess in the bathroom and to shower—“I’m not fucking that,” he says dismissively as he walks out.

Showered, I walk into the living room. Pilot sits in the recliner with a hard on. He’s watching porn. Actually, he’s watching a previous session of ours he filmed. I’m telling him how much I love his huge cock. I sit on the couch. I feel like an idiot to be so hung up on someone’s cock.

He asks me what’s wrong. I shrug. I look at the TV. He asks me if I liked it. Tears fill my eyes. Yes. I enjoyed it. That’s what bugs me. He took me to a place I didn’t want to go. A place I’ve mocked with friends. I’ve become what despise. What really pisses me off is that I’m all teary-eyed.


Fuck. I think I’m in love with this dude. That totally sucks.

Pilot gets up. I think he’s going to kick my ass. Instead, he kneels next to me. He tells me how proud he is of me that I did that for him. “You did that for me, baby. I know you hate it, but you did it for me.” He gives me a kiss.

Fuck. I am in love with him.

We make out for a while. Soft, gentle kisses. I know why he’s been married three times. He makes you fall hard for him.

Pilot picks me up, throws me over his shoulder and carries me to the bedroom. Gently, he puts me on the bed. He hands me a condom. I roll it down the long shaft. It doesn’t go all the way down. He’s too big.

He lifts my legs and enters me. I close my eyes. I want to feel every inch of him enter me. Unlike the earlier assault on my ass, this doesn’t hurt as much. It’s painful, but it feels good. He leans forward. We kiss as he starts fucking me.

I wrap my arms and legs around him and he slowly fucks me. “I love you, baby,” he whispers, looking into my eyes. He’s wrong. He loves fucking me. I realize that I love his cock, but not him. I arch my back. He goes deeper. Pilot starts to pump harder. My cock, rubbing against his hairy six-pack begins to spew. I grab onto his shoulders and meet his thrusts. Pilot dumps his load deep into my hole.

He will cum two more times in my hole this night. Pilot doesn’t own my heart, but he does own my ass. Which is fine by me.