Toilet Pig

I apologize for falling off the blogging bandwagon. Work and holidays got the better of me - not just with writing, but with the ability to do anything to write about (i.e. sex!).

I once told the Breeder that if I didn't blog for a week, he should just assume I'm dead. I guess I should amend that statement a little.

Anyways............let's do a brand new fresh story. One of today. Yes. Not exactly real time, but a few hours later.....................

Let's just start out that it was with the guy I had sex with last New Year's Day. He was my first load of 2015 and 2016. I believe we now have a tradition to keep up.

"PJ" had no qualms about saying he wasn't after head with me. Not again. He wanted something else. My ass.

Who the fuck am I to argue with that?

He comes to town over the holidays and that is great, though he isn't free as he is here to visit folks. And depending on my work / holiday schedule, I'm not always free to make it or to host - hence the giving head at a train station in a car during sub-zero weather.

We had texted a few times during 2015 - so it was no surprise he was coming to town, though we didn't talk particulars. Still, it was of little surprise when he texted me yesterday that he wanted time with me. All our mild weather had taken a turn for frigid weather, just like last year. Balls.

But he made it clear, it was not my mouth he was after. He was even specific with this text message:

I suppose, when reading this you could take it a few ways. I only took it one. 

To me, he wasn't just asking for me to provide the rubber. ...but I should backtrack. 

During our chats during the year, there has been implied, but not outright stated, fantasy on stealthing. He liked reading about it. He would never actually do it - allegedly. But going by this text, if that situation were taken out of his hands and made my responsibility he'd be ok with it? 

When I replied "I understand"....I did.......but in my own way, knowing it best not to ask any questions. Perhaps I made assumptions. Perhaps not. 

Since I made assumptions, I took the initiative.  The expiration date was pure coincidence. Honest. The little hole around Lot Exp - not so much. 

As neither of us could host, I thought of the train station again, as they are doing some work there and there is a port-a-john in a remote area of the parking lot. As long as neither of us pulled up next to it, I thought we could be good. It would be cold, but not in the biting wind. And outside, there was no place with cover to do "it" anyways. 

Since it was in an affluent neighborhood and the workers were minimum, the port-a-pot was clean and had not smells. It stopped the howling wind, but not the cold. And since it wasn't one of the handicap ones, there was not tons of room. Quite the opposite. 

I went in first to check the setting. Also so no one would notice two guys walking into a portable crapper. I texted him the coast was clear. He joined. 

First there was a great kiss, followed closely with a heavy handed slap across the face. Slightly unexpected on one hand, completely not on another. It had been in prior conversations how he think I might be all talk on how I like to be treated (yes, he reads this blog) and one of my statements that kissing is more intimate than fucking. It all made sense to me......and no doubt to him. 

I pulled down my sweat pants, and lubed my hole. I pulled out the condom and gave it to him. He had me bend down to lube up his cock with my spit. That didn't last long, as I knew my mouth was not his hole of choice. 

I turned around, took a hit of poppers. He lined his now covered cock up with my hole and pushed in. It felt good. It felt right. It had been a month since I had a cock up my ass - not a piece of information he cared about, as he let me know in no uncertain terms. 

He was good - really good - at fucking. Probably better if we weren't in such a confined space. But you have to make due, right?

As he bottoms out and starts to pump, he let me know "you're a fucking toilet pig".

It was hard to deny. Freezing temps. In a portable toilet. Pants around my ankles. And an almost stranger's cock up my ass.  It was kind of hard to deny. I answered somewhat in the affirmative, though now I'm not quite sure exactly how that came out.

We were making the toilet move, so I did worry that someone might notice that. The normal folks walking their dogs would never notice - a cop might. But I've been in that area hundreds of times and can't think of ever seeing police around....especially on a frigid New Year's Day.  I think that's how I got to blow this same guy a year before.

When he pulled out, I found that unexpected. I was hoping he wasn't done. He sat down, and readjusted the rubber - pulling it tight down his shaft and to make it snug against the head of his penis, almost - almost ! - like he knew I had fiddled with prophylactic beforehand. Can you imagine??  He thought I was distrustful???  The nerve!

Then he told me to sit down.....on it. And I did.

It would have been so much easier had I removed my pants, but that meant shoes and places to put all this clothing, and there were really no options. So with his hands firmly on my hips, I rode his cock, with his assistance. This position didn't stop the facility from moving any less, by the way  (the more you know folks................the more you know!  I am like a public service announcement for you all.)

This seemed to go on for a while until he pulled me fully down into his lap. His shaking and moans - but no words - let me know he was finishing in me.  Or in the rubber.  Yeah..............the rubber.

We stayed in that position as I used my muscles to milk the still rigid shaft planted in my ass. He made no moves to get me off him.

When I did, I very innocently mentioned I though the rubber failed. He took it off quickly and discarded it saying 'no - everything was fine'.

I stood turned fully around and he mentioned I was hard.

I was more than hard. The man. The set-up. The setting. Everything about it was wrong - but in a right way. Hot and sleazy, on such a Winter's day.

He wanted to see me jack off. I asked if he was sure. He was. I was close anyways and asked where. He pulled open his shirt and pulled up his white t-shirt.  "On the belly", he said. So I did. Or tried.

I'm a big shooter. And I had not cum for a week. And with the excitement and the enclosure, keeping the ejaculation controlled wasn't really easy. Sure, some went on his belly. Some in his bush and on or near his cock. Some covered his pure white t-shirt. Some maybe hit his shirt. My semen was fucking everywhere.  It took him quite a while to even slightly clean up.

I made my exit first.  Got in my car and texted him that the coast was clear.

Afterwards, he fled the state. Later I had to use the restroom....and nothing but cum escaped from my ass.

Sure, I might have played loose with the truth on the condom condition, but so did he.

Everything was beautifully executed.....at least in my mind. A good way to start the year.