Andrés’ blow up doll

After a delayed 7am flight back to DC from O’Hare and a Noon matinee of “Milk” which left me emotionally drained and introspective (the documentary footage over the opening credits made me cry), retreating to my quiet townhouse and a warm bed felt like the perfect antidote for a cold rainy DC afternoon. No such luck. Drifting off an hour later, my cell phone startled me back into consciousness. Andrés was on the line, back from Lima after a week. Was I free to be fucked? He’d intended to hook up with an ex- in Lima, who ultimately flaked out on him at the last minute, intensifying his frustration. Not feeling especially horny or energetic today, I demurred, suggesting I wouldn’t be the most eager bottom for him. I knew that wouldn’t work, but it was worth a try.

“Well, you know by now that I have no problems pounding you when you’re asleep. C’mon! You can relax on your stomach. Really, I just need a hot bare hole to fuck and unload in. That’s all. Please?”

By 3:00, I stripped off my tank top and gym shorts and stretched out face down on the bed, as Andrés unbuttoned his dress shirt and unbuckled his pants, standing over me, watching my naked body. “I’ve been brewing cum in these balls for a week, hoping to spray it in that sweet cumhole”, he offered as foreplay. The weight of his loosened belt brought his pants down, and the buckle hit the hardwood floor with a loud thud. Andrés knelt on the bed, pushed my legs apart, and moved his body up towards mine. I felt his hot breath at my hole, slowly exhaling. Then his tongue darted lightly at my hole, then around the rim, then along my asscheeks, and finally back to my hole. Then he drove his tongue in deeper and spat a mouthful of saliva he’d gathered at the entrance to my hole, using his tongue to drive it inside me, lubing me to take his cock. I would have loved an extended rim job, but Andrés drove north with his tongue, into the small of my back, kissing it, moving slowly up my spine, in between my shoulder blades, and to my neck, exhaling on it and licking it and making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Andrés’ rested his body on mine and his cock pushed at the entrance to my hole. I opened my legs a bit and he slid all the way in.

Once inside me, Andrés put one arm under my chest, pulling my body against his and holding me in place. His other arm wrapped around under my neck, putting me into a chokehold, like a pinned wrestler. Andrés had me where he wanted me and now he was ready to fuck. And fuck he did. He pulled his cock up and then forced it straight back down inside me. In-and-out. Straight up and straight down; punch-fucking my hole with increased intensity. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. His trademark. Andrés didn’t vary his fucking much, except to push my legs together or force them wider apart, back and forth. As his fucking grew more intense, the chokehold of Andrés’ arm around my neck grew tighter and it got harder to breathe. I pulled myself away from it, but Andrés was lost in fucking and soon I was being choked again. Ten minutes in, Andrés moaned wordlessly, “mmm-mmmm-mmmm-mmm” while pumping a forceful stream of cum inside me, fucking deep to lodge his load directly into my intestines. His body slumped on mine as Andrés caught his breathe, but he was still rock hard, and I knew he wasn’t nearly finished. A minute later the hole banging resumed, and the chokehold around my neck tightened once again.

Andrés was right – he just needed a hole to fuck today. He’d long since stopped talking to me, preferring to concentrate on satiating his physiological need to unload his ballsac in a warm place (while constricting my esophagus). It could have been any hole, I guess, but he chose mine to drive his sperm inside. And so I laid there under Andrés, reflecting that sex is sometimes about deep connection with a whole person –and sometimes your role is just to be fucked and bred like a cheap blow-up doll. Was it sleazy or just being empathic to his needs? As I thought about it, Andrés worked a second load into my now sloppy hole, and finally a third. Just less than an hour after he first slid inside me, Andrés had drained 10 days worth of cum where it belonged. He collapsed for a short minute, then pulled himself off me, kissed my shoulder blades and back, and sat on the edge of the bed, coming back to Earth and regaining his balance. “Goddamn, thank you”, he smiled, slapping my ass.

After washing up in the bathroom, Andrés sat down again, pulling on his clothes, glancing up and down at the messy results of a victorious, needy breeding. “I’d love to see more of you while I’m still in DC. And I’d like to introduce you to some of my buddies. You open-minded enough for some real adventure?” Like what, I asked tentatively? Never give a clear answer to a vague question like that. “I have a Cuban friend in Alexandria who’d absolutely love to bang that fuckhole and fill it. He knows you and I fuck. The two of you would be beautiful together, fucking in all positions on your bed. I want to sit in that chair, watch it, and jack off to it – a live porno, right in front of me!”

So this is how it starts. I could spend a lifetime satiating the pent-up needs of men who only want to pound and fill hole. Not all I’d hoped for in my dating life at this moment, but my dating life wasn’t so hot, at present. “We’ll work something out”, I replied, smiling back at Andrés. He leaned down, kissed my forehead, and smacked my ass one last time. “So what you mean to say is, ‘I can’t wait’”. He pulled his jacket back on, and let himself out.

Milking Tattoo Man

Winding down a long, emotional conversation with my mother after taking in a matinee of “Slumdog Millionaire”, I switched my cell back on. My belated holiday greeting from Justin, my ex, was the first of two new messages:

Justin60606: Hey buddy, hope you had a great T-Day with the family. Sorry I’ll miss you and your hot ass this weekend, but we’re in SoCal. Hope you don’t mind, but I gave your email addy to 2 chitown tops who’ve been lookin for a good bottom. I casually mentioned your self-professed love of getting pumped full of spunk, and they’re hot for a turn at it. They’ll be in touch. Have fun ;-) J.

Oh, Justin, always thinking of me. Of course, he said nothing about who he was passing my email and photos to. Minor details, I guess. The second, sent two minutes later, was from one of my (anxious) newfound admirers:

TattooedTop: Dude, heard from Justin you might be willing to bottom for me. Name’s Troy. I’ve been laid up for a week with the nasty cold going round, and now I’m totally ready to pound a nice hole. Think I could drain my ballsac in that sweet hole tonight? Let’s fuck, dude! Hit me back.

The photos attached to the note revealed a heavily tattooed and pieced European type, maybe 30 years old. Troy was disarmingly inked and sexy, all at once. Waiting until Mom and I finished our discussion and made it back home, I replied back and we set up a meeting for early Friday evening. In the 15 minute taxi ride from Rogers Park to Troy’s condo in Boystown, I chuckled at the thought of being whored out by my ex.

Knocking loud enough to be heard over the Portishead CD drifting into the hall, Troy finally opened the door and stood there for 10 seconds. “Hey sexy” was followed by a 5 second pause as he slowly looked me up and down, then “Very nice”. He reached out, grabbed my hand, and pulled me into the dimly lit living room.

We sat on Troy’s futon, traversing our mutual discovery process, sizing each other up. His low voice betrayed a sensual Czech accent, which distracted me as I counted his piercings: eyebrows, ears, nose, and lower lip. Troy’s body was a complex series of Samoan Tribal tattoos, which I could see through his sheer red tank top and white pajama pants. They reminded me of Jessie O’Toole from T.I.M., though Troy had coal black buzzed hair, goatee, and the deepest, widest coal black eyes. He wouldn’t relent until I smoked a joint with him and agreed to a shot of Becherovka. (Nasty, vile stuff.) As I mellowed, he put his arm around me and I noticed Troy’s beautiful olive skin and appearance; they were at odds with the “alternative” dude he was trying to project: The tank top fit his thin, lightly muscled body perfectly, and his hands and feet were perfectly groomed. I’d never seen such beautiful size 12 feet on a man, which were hard to miss as he stretched out. Troy interrupted my appraisal as his mouth nuzzled against my ear: “Dude, suck my cock right now”.

Troy stretched his legs apart, untied the strings to his cotton pajama pants, and motioned for me to kneel on the floor in front of him. Emerging from the drawstrings like Godzilla off Japanese waters, Troy’s uncut cock presented a stiff 8 or 9 inch challenge, with a 2 gauge pa to boot. I realized I’d never had sex with a prince albert before, but Troy’s hands on the back of my head gave me a hurried introduction. I improvised a bit as the cockhead and pa parted my lips and pushed steadily to the back of my throat. Troy pushed my head further, and the metal of the pa hit my tonsils and pushed them aside. I picked up a good rhythm, and Troy moaned as his legs stretched wider as his bottom boy sucked him balls deep and his cock grew harder and wetter. The CD had stopped by now, leaving only the sound of hungry cocksucking and an occasional appreciative moan echoing in the room.

Not wanting to cum yet, Troy led me to his bed, stripped off his red tank and laid back on his bed, tossing me a bottle of Wet. “Ride this cock and prove to me just how cum hungry you really are”, he grinned. The soreness in the back of my throat suggested that I lube up very well, and I obediently lowered myself an inch at a time, mindful of the pa scraping along the soft lining of my bare hole. Lower. Lower. Lower still, until my hole stretched wider and I rested on his balls. Troy was pretty high by then, but completely hard as I began to slowly ride him, the velvet walls of my hot wet hole tightening on the way up and loosening on the way back down. I showed him how cum hungry I was, milking him nicely. “Fuck”, he murmured, with a glazed look in his eye.

Troy rolled me over until my legs rested on his shoulders, and he leaned forward to kiss and lick and then bite my neck. This can be an odd position to get fucked in, but Troy’s cock lined up perfectly with the angle of my hole, and he began to pump in steady, symmetric, deep strokes, a perfect fucking rhythm that distracted me from the pa gliding back and forth inside me. I closed my eyes and concentrated, tightening my hole as he pulled out, loosening as he pushed back in, tight, loose, tight, loose. Troy fucked me with a steady rhythm that made it easy to milk him. He began fucking harder and faster, and soon enough moaned loudly and blasted thick ropes of hot cum inside my hole. I can’t always feel a guy shooting inside me, but there was no mistaking the sensation of being completely filled by Troy’s week-long recuperation.

He slumped forward and collapsed on top of me, and I held him for a while, taking in the smell of sweat and insemination. After a while, Troy’s breathing deepened, and after another minute, fell asleep, on top of me and still inside me. I held him for 20 or 25 minutes, content that I’d used my hole to milk him to the point where he could pass out like that. Well, maybe the joint had something to do with it, too. Finally, I moved Troy gently to wake him, trying to slide him off me. Finally, he came to, smiled groggily at me, kissed me for the first time and pinned me in place. As his tongue found the back of my throat, his cock stiffened inside me again and he resumed fucking, his cock still coated from his first explosion inside me. The wetness of my cum-filled hole drove Troy crazy and he began to pound me this time, like one dog humps another, the pa now too coated in cum to do much damage. Troy's fucking forced some of his first cumload out of my hole and dripping down the crack of my ass. We kissed passionately for another minute and Troy suddenly pulled his mouth off mine, resting his head on the pillow next to me and cried, “Jesus”, as he blew his second load inside me. I held him again as his cock softened, but my hole was too sloppy now and his cock slipped out naturally. We embraced for another few minutes, and he sure enough, Troy passed out again, peaceful and drained.

The evening lent itself to a sleepover and hopefully another breeding or two. But my parents were waiting for my return home. So I pulled my clothes on, pulled the covers over a snoring Troy to keep him warm, kissed his forehead, locked his door behind me, and finally stepped out onto Halstead to flag a cab home, buzzed, bred, and content after a good night’s milking.

6:38

6:15
Proving once again that I can never make it to an airport on time, I zipped up my suitcase and looked for the number to call a taxi. Succumbing to family pressure to be home for Thanksgiving, I found a cheap flight home to Chicago, and was printing my electronic boarding pass when an IM window popped up on my screen. “You free right now to take a huge load in your ass?” I was being asked by an 18 year old student who claimed to attend my university. I was supposed to be in a cab for an 8:00pm flight. I pulled the taxi number and turned back to my laptop, asking for a rain check. “Where you located?” came the reply. He deduced that he lived two blocks from me, which upped the ante of his request. “I can be over there within 5 minutes and be cumming inside you within 10 minutes. It’ll take 15 minutes to get a cab, ya know. I haven’t cum in two weeks and I’ll be in southern Indiana this weekend, where I can’t even fuck a sheep. C’mon man, put out that sexy hole for a fellow student. Please?”

I shut the laptop down, pulled the boarding pass, and put them in my bag. I jumped into the bathroom and pulled some lube, lowering my jeans to lube up my hole before the kid arrived. Not enough time to be eaten out and lubed properly, with saliva.

6:25
Hanging up from calling the taxi company, I opened the door to let him in. Cute in a geeky way, grinning profusely, he looked even younger in person. Pulling his jacket off as he walked in, he introduced himself as Bryan – half-heartedly– so it probably wasn't his real name. He seemed vaguely familiar from campus, but not enough to make things uncomfortable. He looked rail thin – maybe 120 pounds on a 6’2” frame, with a scruffy red hair, a two day beard, and baggy jeans. I took him by the hand and led him down the hall. “Can you just kneel on the corner edge of the bed with your back to me?” Bryan asked. I shimmied out of my jeans and boxers and assumed the position. “No, I want you completely naked when I fuck you”, came the protest, as Bryan kicked off his flip-flops and pulled off his sweatshirt. Off came my shirt and socks, as I knelt on the edge of the bed, and Bryan yanked his sweatpants down to free an 8” boner, springing fully hard. He moved to the edge of the bed, between my legs, and got behind me. Grabbing the lube from the bed, he drizzled it along the top of his shaft until it glistened. Then, Bryan took a step forward, putting his arms around me and placed both cold, sticky hands on my chest, locking me in place. In one motion, he drove his cock all way inside me, catching me off guard to the point I almost lost my balance. I winced. “I’m sorry”, Bryan stammered, “Are you ok?” He was nervous. “Yeah, it’s ok. Go ahead. Keep fucking”, I exhaled through clenched teeth. His cock wasn’t particularly thick, but loooonng. Bryan drove his cock inside me in short, furtive thrusts, gasping at the pleasure of nailing a bare hole, but trying to cum quickly. Faced away from him, I closed my eyes for a second and just listened to his moaning.

6:35
The taxi company called; the driver was outside. “Are you ready?” the dispatched blared into my cell phone. “I’m coming”, I offered, trying to sound calm as an 8” cock was being jammed into my hole. Well, it wasn’t me who was cumming, technically. I gave it 30 seconds, turned around, and said nicely, “Hey stud, I gotta go”. Bryan tightened his grip around my chest as he drove himself inside me and whispered, “Just be still a minute and let me finish inside you. I'm so close.” A minute passed. Then another. He was still fucking. I could hear the taxi honking outside. “I’m gonna miss my flight”, I whined, politely. “Oh fuck, here it comes”, Bryan gasped, softly. I held still as he drove himself all the way inside my ass, again, and again, and then once more. His back wrapping against my back, I felt his entire body shudder for 40 seconds. The taxi honked again, but I stayed taut for another full minute, putting my hands on his arms to hold him, waiting patiently until he finished filling my hole and then finally relaxed. If I was going to miss a flight, this was a great reason for it. Bryan slumped for a few seconds and kissed my sweaty back. “Thank you”, he murmured, approvingly, and slowly pulled his cock from my hole.

6:40
I followed Bryan out the front door, locking it behind me. Pulling my bag along, I did the mental checklist: Wallet. Check. Keys. Check. Boarding pass. Check. Skinny dude’s cumload lodged 8” deep in my ass, where it belonged. Check. Money for cab. Check. I jumped in and waved at Bryan, now properly ready to begin the family trip home.

She takes loads, too

“So are you a top or a bottom?” I set my Sam Adams down and tried not to choke on the swig of beer lodged in my throat. In the middle of Rachel’s birthday party, we sat on her loveseat in her den and talked privately as the party blared on in the next room. I had just been lured into sex talk with a savvy straight classmate, who knew all the right questions to ask.

As this was my third Sam Adams, I lost my ability to edit. “Total bottom, here”, I replied, with a devilish smile. “So you like to get fucked?” “Uh-huh, big time”, I continued to fill out her oral questionnaire. “So tell me”, she pressed on relentlessly, in her Alabama accent, “what is the kinkiest part or hottest part of your sex life with guys?” My mind darted back and forth, searching for searching for a polite, quick answer. Mud-wrestling? Leather chaps? Lassie? No. She was probing for something genuine and real. So I dropped my guard. “I like to get barebacked”. Oh boy, I skated right into the danger zone – too late now. “You mean being fucked without a condom? Why?” Here comes the safe sex lecture. “Well, I guess I like it when a guy cums inside me. Insemination feels like a meaningful part of the connection you have with a guy”. I knew better – this wasn’t going to fend her off, but she wanted honesty, and I sure just served it up.

She smiled at me, put her hand on my knee and said, “Oh my gaaawd, I know how you feel. I used to think it was gross, but now I love it when my boyfriends cum inside me during intercourse”. Ok, so Alabama girl is kinkier than I thought. “You let your boyfriends cum inside you, without a condom?” I volleyed back to her, grateful to take the spotlight off me for a minute. Rachel explained that she’d been on the pill since she was 17, and inevitably, her boyfriends all get around to asking her if they can skip the condom, since she’s on the pill. Sometimes she relented, sometimes she didn’t. Her current boyfriend is some tightly-wound (but hot) ROTC dude that I’ve met a few times. Rachel confided that ROTC dude told her, on their third date, that he didn’t believe in condoms, and that a guy cumming inside a girl is a natural part of sex, and that natural intercourse was important to him. “And you let him do it? Did you enjoy it?” I asked, now genuinely curious about a straight woman’s perspective. “Well, I was a little squeamish at first, but I wanted to please him and soon enough, it just felt like the right way to have sex with him.” I feel that way too, I told her.

The conversation picked up a bit, in pace and emotion. She told me about weighing the risks of STDs and pregnancy, especially because ROTC man is very fertile, apparently. I shared my internal debates about being HIV negative and knowing the risks of taking loads in my ass. Rachel sighed, “Yeah, well I can know the risks, but I weigh it against the pleasure it brings him and the special connection I feel with him as I open myself to his sperm.” I was amazed, I couldn’t have said it any better. That is why I bareback or at least one big reason. I want a guy to share himself with me fully, to not hold back, and to mark me as his. Risk is part of life, and so is connection.

By the team we reached the bottom of our drink glasses, the banter had become pretty vivid. Rachel told me that she brings an extra pair of panties with her when ROTC dude spends the night, because she drips the next day. I let on that I used to sit in our Sociology class on September mornings, the sperm running down my jeans, having arrived in class not 20 minutes after a policeman neighbor of mine would come over and pump his morning load inside me on his way to work. Rachel was loving it. “So what about Tony?” (A teaching assistant from Buenos Aires that we’re both hot for.) “Would you let him cum in you?” she asked. “Hell yes”, I replied, faking an Alabaman twang. “As deep as he could shoot it inside me.” She cackled. “Get in line, honey, and I think he’s straight”.

I mulled over a catty comeback, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door. It was ROTC dude. “Rachel, honey, let’s wind the party down. I want to get some sleep.” I bet you do, Mr. ROTC sperm planter. Maybe it was the beer, but I drifted into reverie for a minute, fantasizing about a boyfriend of my own who didn’t fetishize barebacking and wasn’t hung up on it. He just accepted it as part of his otherwise normal life, and expected it from me. And wasn’t shy about enjoying it. Yeah.

I kissed Rachel goodnight, and happy birthday, and happy turkey day. And I went home fantasizing about Rachel’s insemination that Monday night, but mostly savoring the most unexpected connection of learning that a woman too shares my deepest desires.

50 into 19

“I’d like to watch my partner pound you full of cum”. Ian, a Brit in his late 30s, was asking if I’d bottom for Gareth, his 50 year old partner. They were in town ‘on holiday’ and Ian wanted to surprise Gareth with an extramarital bareback fuck on their last day in DC. Gareth wasn’t in on the plan yet, but Ian swore he’d be into me. The whole thing sounded more complicated than I was hoping for, but it was Sunday evening, and I’d been too busy studying all weekend to have sex, and I needed to feel cum swimming inside me again. We set the plan.

An hour later, they both showed up at my door, obviously relieved to find the address, and looking cold. Gareth seemed a little nervous, although Ian’s leer projected the big bad wolf at grandma’s doorstep. I brought them into the kitchen and offered them some of the mulled spice wine I’d just made. The three of us talked about the coming recession in London, the middling government of Gordon Brown, and their favorite moments from their DC. When they had thawed out, Ian looked at Gareth as he asked me, “So, Brandon, feel like getting fucked full of hot British cum?” I nodded, and Ian took me by the hand and asked to be led to the bedroom. Gareth followed.

Ian sat me on the edge of the bed, leaned over and kissed me. Roughly, and not particularly romantically. As we made out, Ian unbuttoned my shirt and then pulled off my undershirt, as Gareth settled into my bedroom chair and watched, growing obviously hard. Ian lowered me on the bed, unzipping my jeans and pulling them off of me, revealing my black jock. With one yanking motion, the jock was torn from my torso and legs, and Ian flipped me over onto my stomach. It had been only 3 minutes and Ian had me stripped to show Gareth the little cumbitch he'd be fucking. Ian crouched between my legs and slathered his tongue back and forth across my hole, his goatee giving me goosebumps every time he moved. “Strip down and get ready to fuck him, Gar. This boy’s got a fucking tasty hole.”

Gareth did what he was told and stood naked and hard behind Ian. Ian spun around to suck his partner’s cock and get it wet, as I watched. Gareth was plain looking, with rough looks that seemed at odds with his timid personality. Gareth was also horse hung – maybe 8” long by 8” wide (no joke). I realized I hadn’t seen Gareth’s photos prior to meeting up, and I wouldn’t have picked him up of my own volition. But hey, we were naked now.

Ian spun around again and barked, “Get on all fours!” I positioned myself and Gareth knelt on the bed and lined his billyclub to my wet hole. After an inch, I knew this would not work. I just couldn’t take it. Finally, I laid Gareth on his back, grabbed some real lube and impaled myself on his cock slowly, trying to mask my grimace as each successive cock-inch tore the lining of my hole a little wider. Fucking hell. Once I took him to the balls, I sat for a minute and began the climb back up Mount Everest. After a couple minutes, I took the pain as a given and began to ride Gareth, up and down. “Milk my boyfriend, you fucking little whore”. Good thing my back was turned to Ian as I milked his boyfriend on the bed; I’d had enough of the porno soundtrack. I looked down at Gareth. “You ok?” I asked. He seemed taken aback. Finally, I closed my eyes and tuned out the porno show we were putting on for Ian. I just needed to get fucked. I began to ride Gareth, reaching down and playing with his nipples. “Uuuuuhhhhh” he moaned, and his cock stiffened even more inside me. I worked my fingertips over his nipples, back and forth, round and back. “Bloody Jesus”, Gareth hissed, and all of a sudden, the timid man under me came to life. I teased his nipples even harder, when he sat up, learned forward, and flipped me on my back, his cock still shredding the lining of my hole.

My fingertips never left Gareth’s nipples, although he was on top of me now and my legs were straight up in the air. Gareth began to fuck me hard – too hard for a cock that big. I tried to position my legs to blunt the force of his thrusting at my hole, but Gareth simply spread me wider and jack hammered me, unchecked. “That’s it, babe. Breed his teen cunt”. Ian was jacking off, watching his partner bareback a 19 year old. A 19 year old who honestly needed to be ripped open at that moment.

Gareth flipped me over on my stomach again, laid down on top of me, and fucked straight down into my hole. His arms were underneath me, and I could tell he was fucking with the intent to unload. Ian picked a camera out of his bag and shot a couple souvenirs from the fuck action. Gareth picked up the pace, began to breathe harder, and whispered in my ear, “You ready?” I kept my face close to his and said, “Breed me as deep as you can.” With that, he couldn't back any longer, and the fucking of my hole felt more lubricated, the wetness of being fucked full of cum. I milked his cock for a solid minute as Gareth laid on top of me, letting my hole suck the last bits of sperm from his balls. And then he was dry.

We pulled our clothes back on and shifted back to casual conversation. Gareth winked at me, and I sensed a connection borne from our breeding on the bed. He was a nice guy. Ian was saying something about a return visit to DC in the spring. I gave them my number and played it cool, not making complete sense of the dynamics of their relationship, and not wanting to alter those dynamics. I'm not a home-wrecker. I handed them back their jackets to make their way back into the cold night, and hugged each of them as they headed out. “You’re one hot little cunt”, Ian said as he kissed my ear and stepped out. Then I hugged Gareth. “Your sperm is already making a mess in my jeans, stud”, I whispered to him. I kissed him, and sent him back to the hotel, trying to hold onto his British load like a sticky souvenir.

Anonymous?

I’m typically reticent to share my email exchanges with guys, but once in a while they’re striking enough to talk about. Over the last week, I’ve been exchanging emails with a tall 38yo guy from Capitol Hill, who found my profile on BN. On Sunday, he sent me a message titled “Anonymous?” I’ve condensed the exchange and modified the email handles, to protect the not-so-innocent. I’m still sorting out what to make of it.

AsianBoyBreeder: Dude, seriously hot fucking profile. I wish all young guys had your attitude about taking loads. You really a student? Ever let an anonymous guy blow inside your hole?
Brandon G: Thanks man. Well, I started letting guys cum inside me starting at age 15, so I personally love it now at 19. Yeah, I’m an Econ major and live in Foggy Bottom – so you do the math ;-) Do you have a profile?
AsianBoyBreeder: Profile? I tend to keep a low profile. But here’s a torso and cock shot for you. I’m 38 and live near the Capitol. It would have been fun to have known you 4 years ago ;-) Total top here. Love to plant massive loads deep inside hot young guys, like yourself. How late at night can you meet? Ever let a guy fuck you anonymously?
Brandon G: Massive loads? Stop teasing ;-) And nice pic – I like the smooth body and sweet endowment. I keep student hours, but typically in bed by 11:30, unless I have an exam. Anonymous – as in not asking for an ID at the door?
AsianBoyBreeder: Anonymous – as in you are blindfolded and laying face down on your bed when I come in to pump you full of Asian DNA, and stay that way until I’m long gone. What about 2am or 3am? You live alone?
Brandon G: Wow, that’s late. I’m long asleep by then. Blindfolded? No, or not yet. I don’t even own a blindfold. I can’t imagine what that would be like. Why so late? Yes, I’m the only student in DC with my own townhome, I think. Do you have a face pic?
AsianBoyBreeder: Sorry, no face pic. I have a night job that keeps me up late. Blindfolded sex is hot, Brandon. As a bottom, I’m guessing you’d enjoy giving up the ability to see, and letting a guy you don’t even know use your body and get off in your hole. Sounds hot, doesn’t it? They sell blindfolds at Pleasure Place (Georgetown) and Leather Works (Dupont).
Brandon G: It does sound hot, actually - a little wild. At least as an idea. But to be honest, I can’t normally stay up that late. I fell asleep on a guy at 10:00 last night, even. You’d come over at 2am and I’d be a dead fuck. That would be lame.
AsianBoyBreeder: Trust me, Brandon, coming over then to find you asleep and blindfolded would be anything but lame. It would be my fantasy. The thought of it makes my balls churn to build the huge load that would keep you wet for days. Go buy a blindfold. Think about it, seriously man.
Brandon G: LOL. I’ll check it out, ok. It sounds wild. But we’ve never met. And it sounds dangerous, to be frank.
AsianBoyBreeder: Oh. I’m not looking to hurt you. I just want to breed you. Filling a hot 19yo college stud in his bed, in the middle of the night, who can’t even see me. Fuck! Trust me, you’d love it. Consider it, at least. I’ll be in touch later, to see if you’re bold enough to try it.

I let the exchange stop there, for now. That type of encounter is way beyond what I’m used to. It sounds hot, but implausible. Do guys actually do this?

Fair Game

Turning the corner on 25th Street, a block from home, trying to sober up in the cold Thursday night air, after two beers at a Foggy Bottom pub I had to lie my way to get into, I was finally in the home stretch towards a long restful night in bed. My cell phone rang, which annoyed me, since I had to take my hand out of my warm pocket. Andrés was asking me to invite him over, because he was flying back home on Friday to Lima for a week. The prospect of a third consecutive night of bareback fucking with him sounded fun, but I was dragging. I’d recounted for him that I’d been up most of Wednesday night, fixing a marketing project that two of my teammates had botched, and then rehearsed, and then delivered it late on Thursday. It went well, which led to an impromptu team celebration at the pub. With 2 hours sleep the night before and the alcohol kicking in, I was ready to crash hard. As well, I spent those 2 precious hours of sleep in a funny position, and my neck and back were killing me.

“Poor kid. Well, I’d like to see you before I take off. How about a short visit so that I can give you a simple back and neck massage? Did I tell you I’m a trained Swedish masseur?” (No you didn’t tell me, Andrés.) I invited him over, warning him that I wasn’t going to be able to stay awake beyond an hour. I had just enough time to shower up and pop an Advil when Andrés walked in. He told me a little about his plans to see his family and conduct some business. Sensing my fatigue, he pulled me into the bedroom, had me strip down to my CK boxer briefs, and lay face down.

We had to improvise with massage oil, but I found a new bottle of baby oil that would suffice. I stretched out, Andrés crouched over me, and he warmed the oil in his hands before pressing into my lower back. He was more skilled in massage than I’d expected, and I enjoyed the luxury of just relaxing and being massaged at the same time. After a couple minutes of back and forth chatting, I felt myself drifting towards sleep, as Andrés moved up to knead my shoulders. I tried doing econometric equations in my head to stay awake, but to no avail. At some point, I was so relaxed that I just stopped fighting it, and fell out into deep slumber. My dreams were active, and violent: I was a bullfighter in an Almodovar film, and then I retraced my hard run from last October’s Marine Corps Marathon. Always moving, but not resting. And then, nothing.

My alarm sounded at 7:00am, and then 7:05, and so on until 7:30. Finally, I had to get up to a dismal Friday morning, for a macroeconomics class. I opened my eyes and looked for Andrés, but he wasn’t there. The townhouse was perfectly quiet. Which was good, because I had a pounding headache. I reached over to shut the alarm off, and noticed my CK boxers sitting on the chair nearby. I was naked and face down on the bed. Swinging around to grab some new underwear from the dresser, I winced. My hole was incredibly fucking sore. I stood up and had to limp a little towards the bathroom, I was so sore. As I moved, my stomach churned a little and my hole was getting a little too wet. Moving faster towards the bathroom, I was too slow, and a pure white stream of Andrés cum leaked from my hole, down onto my balls and into puddles on the hardwood floor. By the time I reached the shower, I’d left a sperm trail behind me. I’d have to clean the floors again this weekend, but at least I figured out why I was so sore. Andrés must have spent half the night taking advantage of my stupor to completely empty himself inside me.

I decided to send Andrés an email before heading to class, to apologize for passing out on him. Who likes it when a friend or sex partner falls asleep on you? Logging in, however, I already had an email from him: one line, with a photo capture from his iPhone. It said, “Hey stud, hope you enjoyed the massage last night. I enjoyed it intensely.”

Best Text Message Ever

My cell began to vibrate in Statistics class. A text message: “Let me have more cumhole, please?” It was Andrés, looking to hook up again already. Embarrassed to be in eyesight of prying classmates, I put the phone down. Then it vibrated again: “My hot seed. Your cumhole. Sticky, volcanic meeting?” I eventually replied and told him to come over at 9, getting hard in class at the thought of a repeat fuck.

As was last night, tonight’s encounter was to-the-point and fun. Andrés told me how well he slept last night after unloading inside me. It didn’t take long for him to push my legs in the air. Then he stopped. “Sometimes, I really get off on hard pounding. You wanna try? (Duh.) I nodded, and his cock disappeared inside me, an inch at a time. Andrés gasped, whispered something in Spanish, and pinned into place again. He spent a minute to find his fucking rhythm, and then he pushed my legs wide apart, as he leaned down to kiss me. Thus began the pounding. First, a vigorous pumping, in and out. Then he positioned his legs up to my stomach and held onto my shoulders, giving him the type of leverage he was seeking. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. It was the kind of noise that would make a roommate knock on the door to check if I was ok. Except that I don’t have roommates. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. The amazing thing is, he never took his mouth off mine as he rammed me. The combination of sensual kissing and nasty pounding was surreal. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. I finally had to hold onto Andrés, because he didn’t let up or vary the pace, and I was trying to avoid getting body slammed. It was my hole he was targeting. Soon enough, his breathing picked up and his eyes squinted and then widened – the international tell tale sign of “Dude, I’m about to blow inside you.” And blow he did. I nodded and smiled at Andrés, and opened myself completely to accept his sperm.

Lying beside each other on the bed, he stroked my arm and asked if I was single. “Yep. You?” In a split-second, I thought about what a fun boyfriend he’d make. Andrés smirked at me, whispering, “Yes. I’m glad, Brandon. I’m not the relationship type. But I’m in town until March, and I’d like to know that, for at least a couple days each week, you’re sitting in class with my load up your ass. You get the most amazing look in your eyes when you’re taking cum. That turns me on a lot.” Andrés asked how adventurous I got sexually. I didn’t know what he meant. “Let’s see how it goes, Brandon. You’re young, but I’d like to stretch your limits as a cumhole. A little at a time, though”.

Nice and Easy

Don’t you just love when a sexdate ends up relaxing and fun, instead of a freight train of drama? I wasn’t expecting to have sex tonight, given that I got home late from class. During my nightly ritual of cleaning spam from my email box (turning down all those generous offers to get rich in West Africa), I found a nice email from Andrés, a nice looking 29 year old Peruvian living in Georgetown, about 10 minutes away. His photos showed a short (5’5”), toned body, shoulder length black hair, big uncut cock – yummy! He found one of my profiles and asked if he could take his turn in my hole sometime. I was surprised to email back and then receive another response in 2 minutes. I’d asked Andrés what he was into, and he replied, simply, “I’m totally into barebacking hot white guys who take cum in their ass. Is that cool?” More than cool, Andrés.

Andrés knocked on my door, we talked for a few minutes, and then took turns undressing each other. I was a bit taller than him, but he pushed me onto the bed and positioned himself between my legs. He leaned down and took my cock in his mouth, after seeing how hard I was. His head bobbed lower and lower, his tongue running along the insides of my thighs, and then my balls, and then to my hole. My legs were over his shoulders as he lay flat on the bed, and Andrés really ate my hole, getting me still hotter to get pounded.

Suddenly, he leaned forward to kiss me, as his torso came up to meet mine and his cockhead rested on the entrance to my hole, jabbing it and teasing it. Andrés' movements were so graceful. His hands cupped my face as he kissed me; his legs began to move apart, forcing my legs apart and then up in the air. His arms came down onto my elbows, pinning me in place. And finally his body pressed into me and his bare cock forced its way into my hole. But Andrés never took his mouth off mine, and his eyes stayed locked onto mine as he began to fuck. It was a nice and easy fuck, deep but slow. And deliberate. We kissed and just enjoyed the rocking motion of his cock being slowly milked by my spermhole. Too soon, I heard his breath quicken as we kissed, and then the unmistakable tickling of his hot sperm spraying the walls of my hungry hole. He kept fucking and I kept milking him, and we kept kissing. And then, one giant exhale, and I knew Andrés was done. He smiled, kissed me once more, and said, “Dude, you have an awesome hole to cum in. Thank you.” He jumped off the bed, got dressed, asked I’d be up for a repeat fuck sometime, put my cell into his iPhone, and was out the door.

I thought about showering, but decided to crash tonight and let his Peruvian cum spill out onto my sheets as I drift off. I hope we meet up again.

Insemination Therapy

Fooling around on Manhunt on a dreary Monday afternoon when I should have been cramming for an Econometrics test, I sifted through a couple messages, including a K Street type who wanted to nail some hole. What started as yet another MH chat you could conduct in your sleep took an intriguing turn.

“Hot profile, cutie. Steve here. I gotta compliment you on that sweet, sweet hole”.

(Thanks Steve)

“Can you host this afternoon?”

(Running short on time here; I have a test at 7 pm)

“That gives us 2 hours. I have to be somewhere at 6:30. Could you be talked into getting a warm 6-day load jammed up your hole? Been a while since I’ve been able to fuck a bare hole as nice as yours. I’ve got a thick sea of salty swimmers here for you. Let’s introduce them to that hole, huh? Honestly, I’m so hard that I can’t focus at work anymore. I’d love a chance to mix it up with you...”

Now a 6-day load is enticement enough to drop what I’m doing. But it was Steve’s honesty and sense of fun that intrigued me. A real personality is rare on MH.

He wasted no time showing up at my doorstep within 15 minutes. Well dressed, maybe 29, maybe 6’1”, and far cuter than his photo – Steve reminded me of a Breckin Meyer (from Clueless) dressed up as a DC lobbyist or policy wonk. He shook my hand and flashed a smile as he walked in, so I played it cool. Gave him a drink and made a little small talk on the sofa. Steve asked me about my semester as he untied his tie and unbuttoned the top button on his shirt, never taking his eye off of me. A sly one. The conversation slowed and he asked, “So, can you help me out here, cutie?”

He had me kneel in front of him on the sofa and undo his belt and pants, showing a tan line, a lean body and the tiniest treasure trail leading straight into his bright blue CKs. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt as I pulled off his CKs and took his cock in my mouth, a slow inch at a time, rotating my mouth and tongue around his shaft and eliciting a loud gasp. When his mushroom head and thick shaft hit my throat, he locked his hands on the top of my head, as I surveyed the damage he was about to unleash on my hole. Steve had maybe 7”, but it was a fucking beer can.

Hard beyond belief now, he stood up, fully naked, rock hard, grabbed my hand, and slyly said, “Time to fuck, handsome.” I led him to the bedroom as he pulled off my t-shirt and gym shorts. Steve put me on all fours on the bed, tongued my smooth hole lightly a couple times, and then literally spit forcefully into it, 3 or 4 times, as his saliva blast ran down my ass cheeks and legs. He rimmed me for a quick minute and then I felt the beer can primed at my hole. Steve pushed his cock inside me gently, slowly, letting me get used to his thickness. I must have winced, so he asked if he should stop. I shook my head, and he said, “Good boy. You can take it.” Clenched my teeth until his balls were at my hole as his arms folded around my torso. Then the real fucking began, a steady, firm fuck that knocked my knees off balance as the beer can ripped me open. Steve fucked in a very vocal way, a steady, “Uh-uuh-uuuh” that betrayed how much he was into it. Not more than five minutes later, he blurted out, “Sweet fucking cumhole” as his balls slapped furiously at my hole, desperate to unleash their salty cargo, and right then his body tensed as shot his load inside me. It felt warm, but not especially spasmic. It did make him collapse on top of my back, and I lowered myself on the bed to rest for a minute. He stayed on top of me and let his cock finish draining itself in my sperm hole.

Finally, Steve pulled off and we lay together for a few minutes, making post-sex small talk. He asked me about life as a student in DC. After a minute, he let on that he was going to meet up with his partner at 6:30. (Surprise!) I opted for a stoic, poker face and asked how long they’d been together. (Four years.) As the conversation drifted, he grew hard again and finally cut me off, saying, “I’m gonna fuck you again, Brandon.” Steve climbed on top of me, hiking my legs on his shoulders and cupping his hands around my neck. His cock easily slid inside me again, lubed with his own spermload. Bending me forward, Steve began to fuck deeply, bottoming out inside me until he mastered a jack-hammer assault on my hole. The rocking rhythm slowly forced my body to slide further up on the bed, til he had me pinned at the headboard, my bare feet touching the bedroom window. For a minute, I was going to ask him to ease up, because by now he was knocking my head into the headboard as he fucked me, as I heard a EMT siren drive by the hospital two blocks away. But Steve’s moaning was too intense to interrupt it, and a minute later his planted his second load inside me, then going weak again. This time, I put my arms around him and just held him for a few minutes.

He motioned as if he was going to get up and get dressed, but then relaxed again on my bed. I ventured into dangerous territory then, asking him about the nature of the relationship with his partner. (Monogamous, of course.) Steve offered that they hit a rough patch and the 6:30 was actually their weekly couples counseling. Now, at a complete loss for words, I stammered something or another. He gestured that it was ok, and without even asking, crawled back into position and slid back inside me again. I hesitated for a minute – third fucks are usually desperate hour-long affairs. But Steve was hard again, and whispered in my ear, “I know I can blow one more load inside you.” His fucking now was gentler, and more tactile. I wrapped my arms and legs around his back, as he bit my neck. I had lost any moral high ground by now. Was I caressing him because I felt some odd connection with him? Or did the wet fucking noises emanating from my sloppy hole, as Steve rammed it again, just make me insatiable to be filled again? Amazingly, Steve pumped a third load inside me within a few more minutes, and we just held onto each other, enjoying the last moments of one man breeding another.

As he washed up and got dressed, I offered Steve my number, and he accepted it, like a gentleman. But we both understood the limitations of our fun afternoon, barebacking in bed. And then he left. Hopping in the shower to clear my mind before the test, I thought about how handsome Steve is, the type of boyfriend I’d like to have someday. His Hugo XY cologne had seeped onto my body and I still smelled it, like a souvenir. And then I wondered about the irony of a committed man who came over to breed a college boy 3 times, to take care of his sexual needs, right before a meeting where the point was to talk about the unspoken things in their relationship. But my train of thought hit pause, as I felt his load begin to leak from my hole in the shower, running down the insides of my legs in thick, warm gobs, a shocking amount of sperm sliding down my legs in two parallel trails, collecting in ringlets around my ankles and sticking there, even after the shower ended.

Four Years On (part two)

Now, I was sitting next to Justin on my sofa, a college boy living on my own, in a new city. We sat silently for a few minutes, before Justin finally slid off the sofa, crouching down in front of me, to pull off my shoes and socks, to unbuckle my jeans and tug them down, and then my shirt. I laid back and just let myself be stripped in front of him, remembering how good it felt for a man to act on his sexual desires, with no pretense or awkwardness.

“You’ve put some muscle to that lanky frame, Brandon. Very sexy indeed”, his sexy baritone stoking my need to be taken, as Obama took Virginia, and then the nation. Naked in front of Justin, as always – but clearer in who I am now. “Take me to bed and fuck me, Justin”, I teased back, startling him with my candor. He smiled, then carried me off the sofa and down the hall to my bed, the first time we would fuck on a real bed. Justin had me on my stomach, with my legs spread, and then slowly brought his tongue to my hole and lapping softly at the entrance, then deeper, making me insane as he unbuckled his jeans and got naked.

When he finally rested his warm, naked, furry body on top of mine, I realized how much I missed sex with Justin. At 5’8” and 145, I was no match for his build, and he easily pinned me to the bed. He slid down and kissed my neck, my ears, and then the small of my back as his cock easily found the entrance to my wet hole. Neither of us thought to mention a condom; our bareback fucking just seemed so natural and unspoken. Justin pushed in and I remembered anew how the 7" thickness of his cock was always harder to take than its length, but as he pumped my bare hole, it opened nicely, taking his shaft to the balls while his breath tickled my neck. “Oh fuck, I’m not going to last long tonight, Brandon. Fucking you again is too intense”, Justin whispered in my ear as I slowly flexed and milked him. “Blow your sperm inside me, Justin”, I moaned, a bitch in heat. Justin paused and chuckled good naturedly. “You never used to talk like that. What’s got into you?” he teased.

Four years on, that question seemed out of place. “Justin, you’ve been filling my hole with your sperm since I was a sophomore at Payton, hundreds of times. Feeling you shoot inside me was how I knew that I pleased you. Taking cum up my ass is part of how I define sex now.” I surprised myself as much as Justin with a statement that bold. But as he inched closer to the edge of his climax, I understood the truth. Justin was here for only one night, but whether he remained in my life or not, my deepest sexual need is to be bred, to be a sperm hole for men. Soon enough, I heard Justin’s breathing tense up as he drilled deep inside me. I closed my eyes and just focused on the warm blasts of Justin’s heavy load, filling me, fulfilling me, marking me, satisfying a deep craving I never knew I had, completing my transition from an inexperienced teenage kid to the college boy bareback sperm hole I have come to be.

Four Years On (part one)

On the most surreal of nights, I finally muted the sound on the television, as the election results slowly rolled in. I brought Justin back to my place after dinner, and we sat together on my sofa, dividing our attention between Ohio’s fall to Obama and re-connecting after 15 months of silence since our last night together in Chicago, as I prepared to become a college freshman in a new city. Justin emailed me the week prior, announcing his visit to DC for a conference, and offering to take me out to dinner to celebrate my 19th birthday.

Sitting across from him at dinner at El Chalan, Justin’s rugged Midwestern good looks and charm cast the same spell over me as they did four years ago, when my best friend Cathy brought him over to meet me after a Friday night track meet. “Great job tonight; I’m Justin”, he offered and shook my hand. Even then, Justin struck an overpowering presence: a 6’4” athletic director with Mediterranean good looks, physically imposing, with a baritone that commanded respect and seduced at the same time. As Cathy looked on, Justin congratulated me on winning the 800 meter run that night and then fixed his gaze on me as he offered advice on how to cut my time down. I was dumbstruck, nervous, and sexually attracted all at once. He knew it, too.

Within a week, Justin signed on as my new coach and one Friday after practice, he cornered me in his office. He put one hand on my leg and his arm around my shoulders. “I find you very handsome, Brandon. You’re a hot, sexy boy.” I was nervous, but instinctively knew what I wanted. I didn’t pull away from his advances. Justin pulled me up and sat me on his desk, pulling at my gym clothes. I remembered thinking I should warn Justin that I’d never had sex before, let alone with another man, but soon enough I was naked on his desk, looking up to see his approval and his arousal as he stepped out of his sweat pants. “Very, very sexy, Brandon”, he murmured. I lay back on the cold desk, closing my eyes as he ran his hands slowly and gently across my chest and around my knees and thighs, to calm me and let me know it was ok.

I closed my eyes for a minute to succumb to the excitement of Justin’s hands on my body. Sensing my comfort, Justin’s cock approached my hole, bobbing at the entrance. He lowered his head and let a long strand of saliva slowly drop from his mouth until it glistened around his giant mushroom head and shaft. His tapped the slippery head at my hole, soaking it and preparing it to take him. “Hot boys like you need to be fucked, Brandon. I want to show you how great it feels to take a man inside you.” Justin caressed my legs and stroked my cock, quelling any embarrassment or resistance I might offer. “Just let it happen. Are you ready to be fucked, Brandon?” he asked. I just looked up at him and silently nodded. That was all he needed to slide inside me and take my virginity.

Being fucked for the first time is a mix of pain, pleasure, shame, and curiosity, but I was guided by the lust in Justin’s eyes, the rocking rhythm of his body pushing in and out of me, and his sharp breath as he ejaculated inside me. The cum leaking from my ass made me feel dirty and used, but I saw how much I pleased him. I got used to being fucked after practice in Justin's office, while my teammates were down the hall, showering up and heading home. Justin would drop me back home, where I'd have to greet my parents with Justin’s sperm leaking into my underwear. Since sex education at our school was pretty lame, it never crossed my mind that being barebacked might be risky. It’s just what I did to please Justin.