Tag Archives: bedroom

Grindin’ Ass Raw: How Quickly ‘Safer’ Bottoms Go Raw

Grindin’ Ass Raw: How Quickly ‘Safer’ Bottoms Go Raw

Raw-or-wrapped-2How much I love asking the question, “Raw or wrapped?’

If I’m on Grindr or Scruff or Manhunt (I’ve got a free trial) or Craigslist, it’s a question that’s bound to come up. And ever-so-quickly, as soon as it does, the response about half the time is “wrapped” or “safe.”

Fuck, just look at the young man to the right — he wrote “Always safe.”

And I wrote, “Oh. Too bad. I’m not.”

Immediately — not even a minute passed — before he said he’d fuck raw.

Recently, a survey found about half of all gay men said they fucked bareback while the other half said they fucked safe. This is a flawed study because, I believe, when confronted with someone a bottom want to fuck him, he’ll go raw almost every time.

Believe me, I get more ass this way.

A lot of you may think I’m out there stealthing ass Opens new window of a page on this blog left and right. No. I’m not. I only do that at sex clubs, adult bookstores or bathhouses where anonymous hook-ups are rampant and, even then, it’s rare.

Most everywhere else, the horny man will go raw without hesitation.

The Tanned, Tattooed Lasian

I’m downtown running errands and, whenever that happens, I see that as an opportunity to get some. Honestly, Grindr and Scruff are hit and miss. Plus it’s a Wednesday in Atlanta Opens new window of a page on this blog and I know that’s a craptastic day.

But the common chime goes off on the ole iPhone and I begin chatting it up with what looks to be a light-skinned Latino.

If you’ve been reading my blog, you know I have a thing about exotics — any Asian or Latin flavor. Well, we all also know I’m an equal opportunity fucker Opens new window of a page on this blog, glad to breed most any ass.

The 27-year-old had shitty photos, but it didn’t much matter to me. He’d turned off his distance meter but seemed pretty damn close. And we were getting along. He liked my cock shots. He asked me to come over to fuck him.

Raw-or-wrapped“Raw or wrapped?” I asked.

“Wrapped.”

I turned him down, letting him know I just fucked raw.

Now I expect bottoms to come back with an invitation anyway, but his response shocked even me.

“Okay, well, you can fuck me raw as long as you cum in me,” he typed.

“I have no problem breeding your ass,” I wrote back.

Soon I had an address and was on my way.

Turned out I was only 3 minutes away from his apartment complex. He answered the door with just a towel.

A 6-feet tall, this beefy man’s wide, smooth chest looked just meaty and delicious. He was deeply tanned. And those horrible photos just couldn’t make up for the vision before me. Tattoos scattered his body. In fact, throughout our session, every move would cause me to discover a new tattoo — he had at least a dozen. Some as small as a dime while others were much larger.

His nipples pointed down toward his belly.

He escorted me to the bedroom and dropped his towel while I began taking off my clothes. His large flat nose gave him a Hawaiian look but the Asian truly stood out. That is, as he jacked his uncut cock and it stood up a rigid 8 inches and very wide.

Now that wasn’t Asian cock. It was truly Latin.

We went down to business, him snorting my poppers Opens new window of a page on this blog, sucking my cock, kissing me with his luscious thick lips and begging very soon for me to eat his ass and fuck him.

His legs and ass were covered with dark, wiry hair (again, symptoms of Latin descent). I worked his hole just a little before he wanted my rock hard cock inside him. His padded tanned skin next to my mighty white seemed like an odd dichotomy, but it worked as my cock slipped inside and he snorted more on those poppers.

With him on his back, my cock thrusting inside him, he soon began begging for my nut.

“You want it already?” I said, knowing we’d only been fucking a few minutes. But I was on errands and didn’t have long. But I didn’t mind making this a quick one. As fast as he was jerking his cock, I knew I wouldn’t have long anyway.

“Breed me man,” he said.

I snorted the poppers now and went plunging over the edge.

I bred his ass, pushing my cum inside him and letting him know he’d gotten my load. Then I pulled out and dressed.

“Damn,” he said. “Thanks. I’ve been looking all day for someone to come over and fuck me. You were the first one serious enough to do it.”

“Glad to help out,” I said.

And I left.

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Catfish Uncovered, Fake Profiles Online

When Anonymous Hook-Ups Don’t Work Out: Atlanta Tops Need to Beware of This Catfish

Let’s be honest that there’s plenty of flakes and fakes out there. The Manti Te’o case Opens new window of a page on this blog brought a lot more attention to the plight and scourge of catfish Open-New-Window-External and it’s been a theme on this website Opens new window of a page on this blog.

I tend to expose the assholes stupid enough to use photos of convicts Opens new window of a page on this blog, porn stars Opens new window of a page on this blog or others.

This one is different.

The Ass of a CatfishIn late September 2012, I began communicating with a person who wanted me to stop by his house and breed his ass. We began via e-mail. On the particular day, the person had a particular window of time, wanting to arrive home. As it turned out, it would be after I would drive past where his house happened to be on my journey home.

Through the course of our correspondence, in which we traded photos and eventually phone numbers to text, we would finally settle on one afternoon where the timing worked out. He gave me his address again (so I’ve received his address both via e-mail and text). I drive to the location.

It’s October 8, 2012.

The sun is dipping behind the fall leaves and there’s a coolness to the air. Pumpkins already sit out on the portico of this lovely brick home in an upscale neighborhood far outside the Perimeter (Atlanta’s interstate loop around the city). I’ve diverted my normal route home in order to hit a few extra red lights and visit this man’s home.

It doesn’t look like he’s gay. It appears he might be married with kids. This home is too large for a single man and this community just doesn’t have a signature of young couples. The house has to be five or six bedrooms at least.

I’m awaiting a text from him to say come inside, the front door is unlocked. He’s had me waiting in my car, in the driveway for way too long. I already know something is a little up.

I’m scanning the windows, which all have wooden blinds shut tight. Likely, he’d checked me here, but I never saw one move.

I walk to the door like I belong here and push the doorknob to open it.

It’s locked.

I text and knock.

He says he forgot to unlock the door. He’ll be down in a minute to unlock it.

Of course, that never happens.

Then, in the next few minutes, he gives me a brand new ZIP code. Says I got it all wrong.

Now remember that I’ve received his address twice. I check it both places and he’s clearly given the ZIP code to this place correctly.

As it turns out, there is another street with the same name but it’s several miles away in another suburb. For example, there’s Holly Bank Court in Norcross and Holly Bank Circle in Atlanta.

I’m not stupid. I’m not criss-crossing Atlanta.

That Brings Us to Today

These kinds of wild goose chases happen. I usually can weed out the fakes, but this guy was in for the long con. In a way, I’ve got to give him some respect for the play, keeping me on the hook and playing me for a few weeks until he was able to reel me in. I wonder how many men in Atlanta followed through on this process only to end up visiting two addresses and getting no response or meeting some folks who never expected these strange men to show up on their doorstep.

Not cool.

As is normal for me, I’m hanging on BarebackRT.com Open-New-Window-External this morning and I get a message from BtmCatcherATL Open-New-Window-External. In the course of going back and forth, he wants a load and, based on what I see, it doesn’t look bad.

Now I see a lot of ass. Visually, I don’t catalog every ass photo I see.

BtmCatcherATL Open-New-Window-External is only 13 miles from my house and, in the scheme of things for Atlanta and my normal travels to get some, that’s not bad. I ask for his location.

It’s the address of his house that I recognize. A nice cul de sac in an upscale neighborhood halfway between my home and my former place of employment.

I search my e-mail and there it is too. And then I check out the photos, which some are the same.

First, I do a screen capture of his profile (turns out to be a good thing). Then, I e-mail BtmCatcherATL Open-New-Window-External letting him know I’ve visited his home before.

At first, he denies we’d ever chatted and that people had sent people to his home.

Then I send him his e-mail address. FYI, if you ever have an e-mail conversation with clemsonscott1993@gmail.com, don’t trust it. He’s another catfish and the same as BtmCatcherATL Open-New-Window-External.

He blocks me.

Busted.

BtmCatcherATL or clemsonscott1993@gmail.com's profile on BBRT

PostScript

I do have his face photo (which you can sort of see but I purposely didn’t highlight in the profile above). I have a huge version from the e-mail exchange. However, I’m not convinced it’s the person who’s sending the e-mails. As for ass photos, I don’t know and they’re not identifiable.

I just want my top friends in Atlanta to beware of this man.

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Fucking a beefy bottom!

Recognition

If you’ve ever been through corporate testing for your personality, the results will show the kind of person one might be. Back in 1998, I went through some extensive testing and it determined I happened to be an extreme introvert Link Opens in a New Window.

That doesn’t necessarily mean I’m shy as much as it indicates my focus tends toward internal factors — I’m more reflective, inward looking. Add to that my own hate of smoky bars (and smokers Opens a new window from this blog) and social anxieties toward large crowds and, well, you’re talking about someone who’d much rather stay home than go to the latest concert or wander around a gay bar trying to pick up bottom.

Through the past decade and a half, I’ve taken up a project on myself to open myself up. This blog among the therapies, but I’d do things as subtle as wear brightly colored shirts to work rather than the bland, fade-into-the-background hues that allowed me to skulk through the office unnoticed.

Am I an extrovert Link Opens in a New Window yet? Actually, I’ve tipped to the other side in testing, more ambivert (in the middle) than anything else.

Imagine my surprise of late as more and more people on Scruff recognize me both by my geek glasses or by my cock shots.

During my current job, I leave Scruff, Grindr and Kik Opens a new window from this blog open (and I often check BarebackRT.com Link Opens in a New Window) since I have a horrible boss (he had me come in on my day off just so he could yell at me for a couple of hours last week).

A local beefy bottom on BBRT and I can never seem to synchronize. We’ve attempted to hit the local adult bookstore Opens a new window from this blog or swing by his place for an anonymous fuck. I’d never seen his face, just his beefy body with a little hair and some miscellaneous, non-distinct tattoos.

He seemed a little like one of those tomcats near a dumpster at midnight underneath the streetlight. He looked cute from a distance and might be tame but a sudden move and he’d dart away. In fact, he would disappear from my radar for a period of time but reappear, asking when were we ever going to fuck.

Usually this tomcat-and-dog game wouldn’t seem alluring to me. I’m a no-nonsense kind of guy. I want to fuck your ass and breed it. If you’re good at it, I might fuck you again. Otherwise, I’m done. Yet toying around with him had his allure.

We’d finally exchanged cell numbers because I had a tendency to pop downtown and he didn’t hit BBRT with enough frequency to notice my visits. I’d mentioned one such visit Monday night and he’d given me at deadline to be at his place by 8 p.m.

I couldn’t make his deadline.

On my day off, Thursday, I’d been in the office for a while and let my boss yell at me for a couple of hours straight. I’ve learned not to argue back because the idiot wouldn’t let a fact get in the way of his being pissed off. After he calmed down, he dismissed me, not wanting to pay for any more extra time with me this week, so I left, heading downtown to check on a friend in a hospital.

Scruff had been open at work and stayed open.

Imagine my surprise as I received a message that simply said, “I’m sorry that Monday didn’t work out.”

I finally see his face — round and handsome with a Van Dyke Link Opens in a New Window. I’d seen him mostly naked — in a jock — and found his beefy wide pecs with the fur down the middle to tree-trunk legs quite attractive. His ass provided a wide target and muscular mounds but no one would accuse him of being a “bubble butt.”

Bubble butts seem so inflated that sharp objects might cause them to “pop.” His ass provided a more substantial challenge.

We toyed with one another, as we always did online. But in the end, he relented and agreed to let me come over. It would be an anonymous encounter. Him naked on his knees to blow me hard then I’d breed him.

I arrived, parked and walked in the designed backdoor (how coincidental) into a hall just off his bedroom. In the darkness, he’d lit one candle that provided enough light to allow me to see the figure in the room.

Perfection is not accurate, but to me, perfection is not desired. I like a man with beefy pecs without distinct definition of a six pack. He’s got hair in all the right places without removing it, shaving it or waxing it. He’s a real man. He likes beer, dogs, football and chicken wings. He doesn’t spend his life at the gym but has his priorities balanced.

This is the kind of man I recognize.

He’s blindfolded. I unbuckle my belt, unbutton and unzip my jeans and flop out my cock, anxious to get it into his mouth. I step up and my cockhead brushes against his moustache as I place my hand on the back of his head where he’s got a full scalp of short-cropped hair.

“Suck that cock,” I said. “Get it hard.”

His mouth flew open with exuberance of a hungry man who hasn’t eaten for weeks and caressed my cock as it  swelled to hardness. He bobbed his head up and down,  interspersed the work with occasional licks of my balls, which thanks to the cool weather were tight up against my body but swollen. I’d shaved them a while back, so the light layer of stubble on my contracted testicles tickled a little.

I didn’t plan on this being a long session. And while he’d followed my instructions to a T, I don’t imagine he’d really wanted it to be more than a quick dump and go either.

But we all recognize chemistry when it happens and it began to blossom in the room. His oral skills were above par and he kept reaching up under my shirt. My tit tweaks were getting responses so I decided maybe I’d make this a little more fun.

I stood him up to discover he stood quite a bit shorter than me — probably about five-foot-seven. But his beefy wide stance still struck me as I pushed him back onto the bed and climbed up, kicking off my shoes and pants.

Positioning myself so my cock went right underneath his balls, his own prick stood out at attention

I growled. He responded in kind and soon my mouth covered his and we were kissing deeply. He slurped at my mouth and tongue.

He was thirsty.

“Spit in my mouth, please Sir,” he requested.

I obliged.

It had been a while since I’d had a fuck who wanted my spit and, let’s be honest, I didn’t exactly tank up for this little adventure. I’d just expected a fuck and go. But here I am kissing. My pants are off. I’ve got this naked body beneath me and, God’s honest truth, I wanted to completely feel it.

Off came my shirt too.

Now I nibbled on his perky nips, for which he jerked every time. Then I dropped to his cock and balls.

To be honest, I found his cock impressive for a bottom. Not huge but perfect for a man his size. Thick with a purple angry color to it. Yet I ignored it and went to his balls, tickled them a little with my tongue and then put my hands under the bend of his knees. I pushed him up and exposed his pucker on this wide, fuzzy hole.

It winked.

I dove into it without hesitation, tasting a mixture of soap and something else there. But I worked my tongue and a bit of spit into it. Licked his balls, nibbled a nip then kissed him deeply so he could taste his own ass.

Then I lined my cock up to his hole.

“You’re going to need more spit than that,” he said.

I spit on my hand and rubbed it into the head of my cock before pushing against his sphincter.

Pushing harder.

I pierced him, entering into his ass.

Raw, I ripped inside his ass and entered him the way a man should get fucked. Not a lot of lube. Just a little spit. So he could feel me at every millimeter as my invader worked into him farther and farther.

He began to beg.

And I began to fuck.

His thick, tree-trunk legs up around my shoulders as I moved my waist in almost an awkward fashion, working my way into his ass and out.

I would almost pull out and he’d tell me, “Wrong way. I want it all inside me.”

I did finally pull out to put him on top and let him ride. But he was a good little cum slut and sucked my cock some first before climbing on board.

He bounced. We kissed. I bit his nipples. He recognized how perfect my cock would be for double penetration Opens a new window from this blog. We fucked more. I made sure he had plenty of my spit to swallow.

“I think it’s breeding time,” I said.

“Would you fuck me on my stomach?” he said.

“You know that’s how I like it,” I said.

He hopped off and I moved out the way so he could crawl face down and let me invade. Despite his substantial beefiness, my taller frame allowed me to cover him almost completely.

I began to fuck and he began to beg. “Give me your fucking cum man! Breed my fucking ass, man! Let me have your load! Put it in my ass!”

I did. I shoved it in deep and my cock throbbed, flexed and began to shoot my load deep inside him. In his case, it felt particularly deep. Rocking my hips a few more times, I left my cock inside him like a butt plug as we kissed and chatted a bit more.

I pulled out. He felt his asshole.

“It’s wet,” he said.

“I wonder why,” I responded.

He licked and sucked my cock clean.

“Full service,” I said, thanking him.

He left his blindfold on as I put my clothes on and left. He played with his cock a little, which I wouldn’t deny him Opens a new window from this blog.

I spit into his mouth one last time before slipping out the door into the chilly night.

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Loading Zone: Handcuffs Add Confidence to San Diego Top’s First Stealth

Loading Zone: Handcuffs Add Confidence to San Diego Top’s First Stealth

[alert style=”green”]Welcome to iBLASTinside’s Bareback Loading Zone, the place where readers and fans of iBLASTinside.com send and post their own tales and adventures. These are all true and told to Mark who occasionally massages the writing a little if needed.

Today’s submission comes from a top named Peter from San Diego. He’s a beefy, hot blond in his twenties who prefers raw sex. He ran across a bottom he really wanted to fuck but the bottom insisted on a condom. Peter got what he wanted. The bottom got fucked.[/alert]

My Very First Stealth

I’ve been able to get my fair share of hookups even though I’ve turned down a few on occasions because they wouldn’t let me fuck them raw. Recently, I was very intrigued when I heard that there was still a way to bareback a guy even though he’s requesting a condom.

iBLASTinside's Bareback Loading ZoneI found out exactly what stealth Link Opens in a New Window is and what it entails through a friend who has done it many times. Once I learned some of the techniques, I decided to practice, practice, practice Link Opens in a New Window before doing the real deal on an unsuspecting dude.

One way to break down a condom is to leave it out in the hot sun, put it in the freezer, and then take it out into the hot sun again Link Opens in a New Window. I combined this technique with using a pin to poke a hole in the condom while it was still in its wrapper Link Opens in a New Window.

After a series of practices, I finally felt comfortable enough to do it for real. I made contact with a hot stud who insisted on a condom. This fit guy in his mid-twenties with brown hair stood about five-foot-ten and a tight 150 pounds. He was a little hairy and nicely tanned. I told that’s not a problem to use a condom and I will bring one for our time together.

I get to his place and we exchanged pleasantries. Soon we were both naked and kissing each other. I showed him what I brought: A condom and a pair of handcuffs. He smiled at me and just said, “That’s kinky.”

I turned the stud around and cuffed his hands behind his back. I pushed him down to his knees and came back around in front of him. I started to facefuck him with intensity to get my cock wet from his saliva.

After my cock was rock hard, I told him it was time so I pushed his head to the ground with his ass sticking up. I took the bottle of SpunkLube Link Opens in a New Window and generously used a lot on my cock and in his asshole so he would hopefully not feel my cum inside him later.

I made it a point to show him the condom in its unopened package. I then shifted right behind him where he couldn’t see me and tore the wrapper open. I quickly placed the special prepared condom on my stiff cock.

With the preparation of breaking down the condom, it was fairly simple to tear a hole so that the head of my cock was sticking out through the broken condom. I was able to do it fast enough not to raise any suspicion from the stud.

I teased the stud by tapping my cockhead onto his tight opening. Naturally, he thought there was a layer between my cock and his asshole. I asked him if he was ready for me to give it to him just like it is and he said, “Fuck yeah.”

I started to pound his hole slowly, but gained momentum and force with each thrust. I can tell he was enjoying it thoroughly, but I must admit it felt foreign having something around my cock like that.

We fucked for about 20 minutes in several positions with his hands continually being cuffed behind his back. I never took my cock out of his hole while shifting around as I wanted to make sure he didn’t see the altered condom.

When we were facing each other with his ankles over my shoulders and my cock deep in him, I leaned onto him so he was basically doubled up. I grabbed the back of his head and we started to deep tongue kiss for a few minutes.

After the romantic interlude, I shifted him back to the doggie position so that his head was back on the floor. I was getting close so I started to jack him off while I was pounding him. He wasn’t able to touch his own cock because of the cuffs.

With the stud in front of me and unable to see, I finally took my rock hard cock out of his ass just to check it out. It was a very unique sight to have the condom cover only the shaft of my cock and not the head. A few seconds later, I reinserted my cock into his ass.

I was trying to time it so that we would both cum at the exact same time in which he would be much less aware that I’m blasting inside his guts. It was working as I could feel him getting close and I was only moments away.

The stud tighten up his sphincter muscle and he started to release his load while I was jacking him off. In unison, I started to blast inside. It was such a fucking hot feeling of not pulling out that I continued to fuck him for awhile with my cum mixed in.

We were both spent. I left him handcuffed for a few minutes longer as I jumped up and went to the bathroom. I threw the condom into the toilet and flushed it down with my piss to remove any evidence.

I came back into the bedroom and planted a deep kiss on his lips while holding the back of his head with one hand and his cuffed wrist with my other hand. He reply that it was one of the hottest scenes he’s been in. I smiled and winked.

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Hot Guy, or he was... before Tina became his best friend.

Tweak, Tweak… The Mating Call of Tina’s Friend

Thursday I am horny and frustrated. This is a combination that, for me, is not good. I’m in one of those moods where I want to fuck anything that gets in my way. I’m on the look out for a sure thing.

When it finally arrives, it’s someone I recognize. He’s an extremely muscular massage therapist who provides not too bad bodywork. Where he’s located isn’t the most convenient. But he has a great body and this time he just wants to get fucked.

Allow me to be more specific. He had a great body.

The photos he sends are from a year back from when I last saw him. I’ll explain.

Our exchange Opens a new window from this blog on how to get to his place is brief and he says to come right in — not to even knock. I let him know I’m 20 minutes away. And right at 20 minutes, I’m at his door, pushing. It’s locked. I knock.

Shuffling begins inside.

“Wait up guy,” I hear. “Got to let the dogs out.”

In a few seconds, the door opens and it’s not dogs I see.

It’s three men. Just beyond the jocked muscle guy I’m expecting is a beefy bearish guy pulling up his pants, putting on a baseball cap and exiting out the door behind me. The second is a short, dorky, tattooed guy who sort of looks like Ian on Big Brother season 14. And he’s just in a pair of boxers.

I’m confused.

Then muscleman and I are alone as “Ian” is in the bedroom and the bear is gone out the door.

Muscleman has been on a diet. A radical one. He’s lost at least 50 pounds. I whip out my cock, not thinking too much, and slide it inside him. I’d been anticipating fucking him. His ass is slick already with cum. If bear had finished up, maybe muscleman was sucking him clean. Don’t know. Don’t care.

We’re fucking on his massage table and, let’s just say, it’s not working out. I can’t enter him deeply enough. He’s thinner but fuck if his asshole just isn’t positioned correctly.

And something is off about him. Something just isn’t right. This isn’t like the last time. Of course, the fuck occurred after a good rubdown, but I’m not getting something. He’s face down, of course. My suspicious rise.

I climb off about to leave when he’s up and on his knees, his mouth wrapped around my cock. It’s like he knows something is up. And I’ll admit, his sucking is primo. He even goes for my balls.

I finally decide I need to cum. If I go home in this condition, someone will get hurt until I can bust a load.

“Is anyone else coming over?” I ask.

“Nope,” he says between sucks.

I pull off my clothes.

He gets the signal.

“We need a bed,” he says.

And then we walk into the room where “Ian” is laying on half of the bed.

Now I hesitate, but he motions me in. “Ian” barely looks up as muscleman lays on the other half of the bed, ass up. This room is brightly lit, compared to the living room, which was dark.

I shrug. I’m naked, in an apartment, with a hardon and precum leaking out of my cock. I’m wondering if this is the beginning of a three-way.

Um… it turns out… no, it wasn’t.

Although “Ian” has removed his boxers and is laying on the bed naked with a softy, he spends the entire time texting. I crawl on muscleman. And through our fuck, I notice the signs. The fidgeting. And he’s at least a little smart about another thing. Since I’m flat on top of him, wherever my head is, he turns his head away to prevent noticing he’s chewing gum — an attempt not to grind his teeth.

His weight loss and all the symptoms point to Tina.

Fuck.

So my hard dick is up this tight, warm chute that’s preloaded and, despite the weight loss, he’s still got a good body. I wish “Ian” would get off his fucking phone and play with my balls but that’s not going to happen. And I’m frustrated and horny.

I fucking hate tweakers Opens a new window from this blog. Actually, I don’t hate them. I hate the kind of person who results from using too much Crystal Meth. But I still fuck them. I even had this severe crush on a guy a few years ago who had an addiction but he moved to Minneapolis. I fucked him plenty but actually wanted a real date and wanted to get to know him. He refused all my advances. But when he was high, he’d let me fuck him. And I’d let it happen.

I revised that policy with another man I met locally who wanted me to fuck him before going off to rehab. I didn’t. There are some bottoms I want to crave me when they’re wholly cognizant of what’s going on.

But at this moment, the dick is winning. There’s a little conflict in my head, but I know how to shut that up.

I snort some poppers.

The conflict ends and like a laser, my pleasure center kicks in to focus exclusively on my cock and how it feels inside that tight, cummy hole.

“You want my cum?”

“Yes please,” he says. “Please breed my ass.”

That’s all it takes. Soon I’m letting loose a torrent of DNA inside his ass.

After a moment of recover, I’m off and putting on my clothes.

“Ian” doesn’t seem to notice. Muscleman offers me water and invites me back anytime.

I’m being nice, but I won’t come back. This is one mating call I’ll ignore.